Episode 98
All that stood before Elonia was a decorative cabinet.
“Where did she go?”
Just like the secret passages in the Imperial Princess’s Palace, there must be one here as well. In fact, it was highly likely, considering this was the first place the Calamity God cult had established their base in Ravanta.
Elonia placed her hand on the cabinet and cast a memory spell.
Dianne’s recent actions replayed in her mind.
She had opened the cabinet and closed a picture frame on the second shelf. The wall, along with the cabinet, had rotated, revealing a hidden passage, and Dianne had stepped inside.
Elonia deactivated the spell.
‘Good.’
She replicated Dianne’s actions, opening the cabinet and closing the picture frame.
The wall rotated, and Elonia was pulled into the hidden passage.
“Gasp…!”
She almost cried out in surprise, but she quickly covered her mouth.
The wall returned to its original position, leaving Elonia alone in the darkness.
‘I should have brought a light.’
Elonia, frustrated that she couldn’t use a light spell because of her excessive mana, groped her way forward, her hands tracing the cold stone walls.
The passage seemed to be a long, descending staircase, judging by the occasional gaps beneath her feet. The air grew damp and musty, indicating a connection to a basement.
‘This is strange. I don’t sense anything.’
She should be able to sense Holy Power, considering this was a storage room for prayer altars, but there was nothing.
Her eyes, adjusting to the darkness, finally made out a door at the bottom of the stairs.
Elonia cast the memory spell again.
Dianne had entered the room with a candle.
Elonia cast an invisibility spell on herself and cautiously opened the door.
A soft, orange glow enveloped her. The room was lit by candles.
But she couldn’t relax. The sight before her made her gasp.
‘Are these all prayer altars?’
The room was filled with identical prayer altars, stacked from floor to ceiling.
But her initial shock was quickly replaced by a different question.
Why hadn’t she sensed any Holy Power from so many holy tools?
Holy tools, like magic tools, were difficult to craft.
In fact, they were even rarer in Ravanta, where few people could use Holy Power.
When had they created so many, and how had they transported them to Ravanta?
‘Felix, that slimy bastard…’
So this was where they were coming from.
The sight of so many prayer altars, each emanating a faint, unsettling aura, made her stomach churn. She felt a creeping sense of dread, like insects crawling on her skin.
Elonia quickly rubbed her arms, trying to dispel the goosebumps, and looked for Dianne.
Dianne, oblivious to Elonia’s presence, was humming cheerfully, examining the identical altars under the candlelight, trying to choose one.
“Is this one better? No, it’s not pretty enough. Elonia is a princess, I have to give her the best one.”
She dragged a ladder over and started examining the altars on the highest shelves.
The ladder creaked ominously, swaying precariously.
Elonia, holding her breath, watched her, cautiously approaching her. She was planning to knock over Dianne’s candlestick.
Everyone in the estate knew Dianne was insane, so no one would suspect foul play if she accidentally started a fire in the basement.
But just as she was about to act, a voice interrupted her.
“Lady Anglores.”
A tall figure, dressed in black from head to toe, his face hidden by a hood, had entered the room.
Dianne climbed down from the ladder.
“Brother?”
“I told you not to come here.”
“But it’s for missionary work! And please call me Dianne Rossi.”
Dianne retorted petulantly.
Elonia, suppressing her presence, eavesdropped on their conversation.
“Just leave. And don’t bring candles down here. It’s dangerous.”
“Fine. But I’ll take just one. It’s for my friend at the academy!”
A friend? She had been expelled.
But the cleric, knowing Dianne was insane, sighed and reluctantly agreed.
“Haah… Fine.”
“Yay!”
“Now leave.”
Dianne, delighted by his permission, turned to leave.
If she left now, Elonia wouldn’t be able to frame her for arson.
Elonia, in a moment of panic, tried to trip Dianne with magic.
‘Wait, I can’t use small-scale magic…’
She quickly tried to retract her mana, worried that Dianne might get seriously injured, but it was too late.
But the spell didn’t work.
‘Why isn’t it working?’
Elonia stared at her hand, confused.
And the cleric, sensing her presence, shouted,
“Who’s there?!”
Dianne jumped at the cleric’s sudden shout.
“C-cleric?”
“Lady Anglores, leave now. There’s an intruder.”
“What?”
Elonia quickly hid behind a shelf, her mind racing.
She tried to teleport, but it didn’t work.
She had been unable to use certain spells due to her physical limitations, but she had never been completely unable to use magic. She had even used the invisibility spell just moments ago.
‘…Ah.’
Elonia looked up.
The basement was filled with holy tools.
But she hadn’t sensed anything while she was upstairs.
The door to the basement must have been enchanted to prevent Holy Power from leaking out.
The concentrated Holy Power must be interfering with her mana. She had cast the invisibility spell outside the basement.
‘I have to get out of here.’
But the cleric, as if reading her mind, blocked her escape route.
“I know you’re here. Come out!”
The invisibility spell only made her invisible, not intangible.
“Show yourself.”
‘As if I would.’
Elonia, her hand reaching for the dagger under her skirt, hesitated.
A dead person couldn’t talk, so she could eliminate the witness and destroy the evidence. But if the cleric died here, the prime suspects would be Artius and Elonia.
‘…Should I knock him unconscious and erase his memory with magic?’
Yes, that was a better option.
Elonia pulled out Alberich’s protective spray.
Just as she was about to approach the cleric and spray him in the eyes,
“B-brother, what’s wrong…? There’s no one here…!”
Dianne was still there.
The cleric shouted,
“I told you to leave, Lady Anglores!”
“No, I’m not Lady Anglores! I’m Dianne Rossi!”
“I know, just leave! You’re distracting me, Lady Anglores!”
The cleric seemed exasperated by Dianne’s clinginess.
He pushed her away and reached towards Elonia, and Elonia quickly raised the spray.
But just then, a thud echoed through the room.
“…?”
Blood trickled down from under the cleric’s hood.
Before Elonia could even react, he collapsed, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
‘What…?’
Elonia’s eyes widened in shock.
She hadn’t done it.
And Artius hadn’t appeared to help her either.
Behind the fallen cleric, Dianne was standing, clutching a broken prayer altar in her hands, her breathing ragged.
She looked at the body, her voice a mixture of pleading and frustration,
“I told you to call me by my proper name… You kept calling me by the wrong name, so you were punished by God…”
Artius, pacing anxiously with Count Rossi, noticed the count’s excessive sweating. He seemed genuinely worried about his daughter.
Artius thought about the real Dianne, who had disappeared.
Noah, a Delan citizen, had taken her place.
So where was the real Dianne?
A nagging suspicion made him ask,
“…You seem quite fond of Dianne.”
“Ah, y-yes… It’s only natural for a parent to care about their child.”
Count Rossi’s face paled at the unexpected question.
According to Artius’s investigation, Count Rossi, his wife, and the real Dianne had been involved in a carriage accident five years ago, on their way to their estate. Countess Rossi had died, and only Count Rossi and Dianne had survived.
But what if Dianne had already died back then?
Otherwise, it didn’t make sense for Noah to replace her so seamlessly.
Count Rossi was a simple and timid man. He wouldn’t have the courage to betray Ravanta, let alone kill his own daughter.
Artius, convinced that Dianne had already died, asked,
“What would you do if Dianne wasn’t your real daughter?”
“…What?”
Count Rossi’s trembling stopped at the unexpected question.
His eyes turned vacant, just like Dianne’s.
Artius repeated his question, his voice firm and steady,
“What if your real daughter is already dead, and a complete stranger is living as your daughter?”
Count Rossi’s kind face contorted in anger, his pale complexion turning red.
“How dare you ask such a cruel question, Your Majesty.”
“…”
“As a fellow father, how can you even say such a thing?”
Artius knew how cruel his question was. He knew how painful it would be to imagine Elonia dead, replaced by a stranger.
He lived for his daughter, just like Count Rossi.
But that was precisely why he had to be certain.
“Do you think your deceased daughter would be happy to see you like this?”
“My daughter is not dead!”
Count Rossi jumped up, his face red, his voice booming.
“She’s alive and well! I know she was rude to the princess, but that doesn’t give you the right to say such things!”
“Count Rossi, face reality.”
“This is reality! Dianne is my daughter! Stop treating her like a corpse!”
“Count Rossi, you need to understand the consequences of your selfishness.”
“…!”
Count Rossi’s anger vanished at Artius’s cold words. Artius stood up, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“I wasn’t a perfect father to my daughter, so I can’t lecture you, but I can say this with confidence. Clinging to a false image of your deceased loved one isn’t true love.”
“…”
Count Rossi slowly lowered his head, his hands covering his eyes.
“You can say that because you’ve never lost a daughter, Your Majesty…”
“…”
“Even though you almost lost Her Highness, she’s still alive and well.”
Count Rossi’s hands trembled as he murmured,
“I know… Noah can never be Dianne…”
Noah could never truly become Dianne. She could never replicate Dianne’s life, her experiences at the academy.
Because Noah was alive, and Dianne was dead.
A living person couldn’t replicate a dead person’s future.
Count Rossi had finally admitted the truth.
Artius removed his hand from his shoulder and asked, his eyes sharp,
“Are you trying to steal my daughter because you lost yours?”
“…”
“Are you planning to steal other people’s children as well?”
Of course not.
But he didn’t want to lose Dianne, or rather, Noah.
He had initially been angry at the girl who was impersonating his daughter, but she had been sold, abandoned by her parents.
She had needed a parent, and he had needed a daughter.
Their interests had aligned, and he had grown attached to her, more than he had expected.
Count Rossi slumped to the ground, sobbing.
He had betrayed Ravanta, even though he had been brainwashed.
Artius, though angered by his betrayal, understood.
If he were in the same situation, if a false image of his daughter and his loved ones were within reach, could he resist the temptation?
His contemplation was interrupted by a commotion.
“What’s going on…?”
Both Artius and Count Rossi’s faces were filled with alarm. The smell of smoke was wafting up from the basement.
The estate was on fire.