“What's wrong, Nanny?”

Ezekiel glanced in the direction of her gaze—then looked at me.

“Do you know Professor Dante?”

The old woman squinted her eyes, then shook her head.

“No, no. I must’ve been mistaken. My eyes aren’t what they used to be... age has clouded them, I suppose.”

“Golden Rat. Mind waiting by the carriage for a moment? I’d like to chat with Nanny a bit.”

I bowed my head and stepped aside. Even as I walked away, I could feel the old woman’s eyes still following me.

Regardless, the die had been cast.

Rebecca would be summoned out of the Church today.

And because of that, her promotion to bishop would almost certainly be rejected.

The king would summon her to a royal luncheon, speak of marriage.

That would be the turning point.

What’s the core of all this?

Let me clarify it once more.

Trying to convince Rebecca is meaningless.

Force and coercion—also impossible.

The question is: will Princess Rebecca awaken to magic on her own—or not?

That’s the core.

Potential already knows the answer.

Glory was [3.0].

So was Eve.

Because they’re heroes.

Agion was [2.7]. Gray as well.

Even Elize and Balmung—widely considered the greatest prodigies in history—only reached [2.8] at most.

But Rebecca? She was [2.9].

I once checked her status screen when Glory was defeated and Adele Mouin drove her back with both hands.

She, too, was [2.9].

Because she’s in the Hero Party.

If Rebecca fails to become a mage here...

Then in the battle against the Demon King, humanity’s chances of losing will rise exponentially.

***

Rebecca did not originally join the Church with unwavering devotion.

—What kind of priest has no divine power at all?

—You were treated like a princess in the royal palace, and now you expect us to do the same here?

She was ignored by her fellow clergy for lacking divine power, and looked down upon for her weak faith.

So then, was priesthood not her path either?

Just as she was preparing to leave in despair once again—it was Archbishop Ophelia who stopped her.

—It’s all right, Sister. Divine power isn’t everything a priest is.

Divine power isn't everything.

Healing wounded sheep isn’t all there is to being a shepherd.

—Sister Rebecca. You have your own path.

In a world shrouded in darkness—when not even a glimmer of light could be seen—Ophelia pointed to a single direction. Let us dedicate ourselves. Let us pray. Let us go to the Holy Mother. Become a bishop. Eventually become a cardinal and help many people.

Then—at the end of that dark and dim world—a tiny light seemed to flicker.

If only I could reach that place, then I...

It was in a cathedral bathed in a gentle holy glow that Rebecca knelt in prayer.

“Princess!”

Layme rushed in and pulled her up in alarm.

“What is it? I’m praying right now.”

“Your Highness, there’s no time! Royal knights are here to arrest you!”

Rebecca frowned, tilting her head.

“...What? Why?”

“I don’t know either! I just saw them barging in outside—!”

The Church is a sanctuary.

But if knights had been dispatched by the royal family—that changed everything.

No matter how sacred the Church may be, if it’s on kingdom territory, they can’t be stopped.

“This doesn’t feel right. You must hide, quickly!”

“...What about you, Dame Layme?”

“I’ll go distract the knights!”

Startled, Rebecca ran. She burst out of the cathedral building—but wasn’t sure where to go.

The Church had almost no enclosed spaces.

And even if there were, she didn’t know them. She had deliberately forced herself to forget anything related to assassins.

So she wandered. In and out of sheds. Back into the open.

And then—

Fweeeee!!

From the other side, a piercing whistle made Rebecca’s heart jump. It was the whistle call she knew well—the royal knights’ signal.

Where was she supposed to go?

“Priestess Rebecca!”

And then—like a rope dropped from heaven—it came.

Archbishop Ophelia.

“Your Excellency. I—”

“No time to talk, Sister. This way!”

Ophelia grabbed her hand and ran.

“Hide in here. No one knows this space exists.”

It was a hidden area beneath the pulpit of a small chapel. Behind a curtain, just big enough for one person to crawl inside.

“Thank you, Your Excellency...”

“Do not come out, no matter what.”

Rebecca activated the [Stealth] technique she had learned—though clumsily—and slipped inside.

Into a pit of dust, surrounded by dozens of centipede-like bugs and the dried-up corpses of rats.

And there, she held her breath. Praying that time would pass.

She had left behind her [Crystal Orb], so she couldn’t track time.

An hour. Two... Time dragged by in complete chaos.

—She’s not here!

—Search that building too!

The knights’ voices drew closer.

Rebecca pressed her hands over her mouth in the dark.

She prayed for it to all go away...

Swish.

But then—the curtain was pulled back.

And dozens of eyes looked down at her.

Knights. Church staff. Fellow priests.

Staring at her, hiding under the pulpit floor—like she was some kind of amusing spectacle.

Even the Cardinal of Hiaka’s Church could be seen in the distance.

And for some reason—

Archbishop Ophelia was there too.

“An engagement, Priestess Rebecca?”

The words burst from Ophelia’s mouth like a bolt of lightning.

“...What?”

Rebecca, her cheeks and chin streaked with dust, looked up in confusion. Ophelia shouted again.

“To forsake your priestly duties for an engagement—was that truly your intention?”

“...Engage... ment? What engagement? I—absolutely—”

“How disappointing, Priestess Rebecca! To demand a bishop’s promotion while shamelessly deceiving us about your indulgences with men in the capital and the secular world?”

“...?”

Dozens of clergy heard it. Even the Cardinal in the distance.

Cracks formed across every expression.

“You have no fear of the Holy Mother?!”

Ophelia’s scream burst like a thunderclap.

Rebecca froze in place. Then came Ophelia’s bitter voice, steeped in scorn.

“This is why we shouldn’t have accepted a priestess without divine power.”

Thud.

Her heart dropped like a lead weight.

Her mind went completely blank.

“...Archbishop... Ophelia...?”

And just like that, Rebecca was seized by the royal knights.

Her once-white priest’s robe now dirtied by dust, she was escorted into the carriage with a vacant look, like a puppet with its strings cut.

“Wow. Can you believe her?”

“She always acted so innocent and sweet...”

“She deceived the Holy Mother inside her own sanctuary? What kind of filth—”

As the carriage rolled out, whispers and pointing fingers followed.

“...Hey. Knight.”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“...What’s going on?”

Rebecca muttered blankly.

“The royal family has arranged your engagement, Princess. The Elder Council has selected a worthy suitor.”

“...Without asking me?”

“It is the will of the royal house, Your Highness.”

The knight furrowed his brow.

He was one of the royal guard, and one of the few who knew Rebecca’s true nature.

And he quietly despised her for her cruelty.

“By this age, Your Highness ought to show some maturity. You’ve grown up in an age of peace, and all you’ve learned is how to throw tantrums.”

“......”

“To think—a priestess? Preposterous. I heard you can’t even wield divine power. Have you ever heard of a swordsman who can’t hold a sword? A mage who can’t use magic? You should carry yourself in a way that doesn’t disgrace the royal palace.”

“......”

When she came to, she was already at the royal palace.

“I’ll assist you with your bath.”

“......”

Rebecca stood motionless as handmaids washed her body.

She looked down at the scars scattered across her skin. In her youth, she had insisted on sparring with a much younger prince—her little brother—and was stabbed during a match. The wounds repeated. She had applied her own ointments. They accumulated.

She had been dragged back here after being caught using [Stealth], learned from the Department of Assassination.

Everything about her reeked of failure as a swordswoman.

“......”

She sat quietly as they applied makeup.

They offered her a dress with bare shoulders. But due to the long scar below her collarbone, they chose another dress.

As always, she wore a choker to cover the scar on her neck.

“......”

Her legs felt like they weren’t her own.

She was walking—but it didn’t feel like her doing it.

Then, as she stepped into the sun-drenched garden filled with summer flowers—

She looked up and saw the elders and knights gathered.

Expensive wine, worth tens of thousands of Hika per bottle. Lavish food. Musicians playing soft, graceful melodies.

“Welcome, Princess.”

She wandered in and sat blankly.

From afar, her supposed fiancé was walking toward her.

She didn’t want to know who he was. In truth, she didn’t care.

Everything had happened too quickly. Her thoughts still hadn’t caught up.

A servant lifted a parasol to shield her face. A tall man with long strides walked slowly into the center of the garden. His movements were unhurried, relaxed—yet not sloppy.

Rebecca’s vacant eyes rose.

And when the parasol was fully raised—

She saw someone far too familiar.

Hair slicked back meticulously. Pink eyes. A sharp, clean-cut presence, though a subtle rebellious air couldn’t be hidden.

An assassin stood before her.

A familiar one. But he looked different from his usual unkempt curls—so it took a moment to recognize him.

Focus returned to Rebecca’s dull eyes.

“You...?”

She still couldn’t comprehend the situation.

Why was she here again?

They said this was an engagement. So then—who was the partner?

A noble’s son, maybe. Or a foreign prince. At worst, she might’ve been sold to some old man pretending to be young—a Challenger-level relic of the past. That would’ve been typical.

But why had her professor shown up here?

As she pondered, even in her daze, Rebecca found herself thinking—

Dante looked handsome.

She had known he was good-looking—his reputation was well-established.

But now, even the sloppy, drifting man she had known seemed to exude nobility.

Something was off. So ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ she looked closer.

His hair was styled. He wore piercings. Trimmed eyebrows. Even his suit was of noticeably higher quality than usual.

There was no mistaking it—he had been groomed for this.

“...?”

Rebecca’s eyes widened.

“Before His Majesty arrives, let the betrothed greet each other first.”

An elder’s words struck like a lightning rod into her stunned mind.

And Dante spoke.

“I am Dante Hiakapo, senior professor at Hiaka Academy. It is an honor to be engaged in marriage talks with such a beautiful princess.”

With one hand over his chest, he bowed. The gesture matched the royal customs perfectly.

Graceful. Poised.

At that, the elders applauded. A servant girl scattered flower petals. The musicians softened their tune.

All things must proceed in order.

Now that the prospective fiancé had introduced himself, it was her turn.

Rebecca rose from her seat with vacant eyes.

She had no idea what was going on. But she had long since mastered the art of pretending everything was normal.

“You are handsome and gallant, Professor. I’m honored and excited to be discussing this engagement with you.”

Rebecca smiled brightly.

“...Rebecca Hiakium von Hiaka.”