1

Yuliana carefully avoided looking in the windows’ direction. This particular room was located on top of the westernmost tower appendix at the Imperial Palace. It was so high up that from her position in the middle of the room, Yuliana could only see clouds drifting in the blue sky, and not a single other building. Why such a place? Only for more needless ceremonies? The princess had never been fond of high places, despite being a resident of a castle herself. Simply picturing the drop awaiting beyond those thin walls made the floor sway in her vision.

Directing her attention away from the heavens, Yuliana gazed sternly ahead instead. A step away from where she stood was a small, white stone table, perfectly circular, with a single document placed on a little wooden stand.

Detailed on that paper were the specifics of the oath she was to take.

From the moment of that contract’s signing, the princess would devote herself to converting her own parent as the ally of a foreign state—or else overthrow him and take his seat by force.

There was a third option as well.

Perish away in the failure of the attempt or the outright refusal of it.

The crown princess of Langoria had left her kingdom with the sole objective of saving it. And yet, everywhere she went, powers were compelling her to bring ruin to it instead. From the beginning, had she perhaps misunderstood what it meant to save nations?

What was a “kingdom”?

Was it her people?

Was Langoria where the Langorians were, even if they were to be chased out of their homes? Would the nation follow where they went, to be re-established wherever they chose to stay? Was the kingdom in their blood, to be inherited by their descendants?

Or was it the land?

Was anyone who settled within Langorian’s geographic constraints eligible to be called a “Langorian”? Even if they were foreigners, even if they were enemies, even if they weren’t humans at all, could they still, in so choosing, claim the nation as their home, and become its representatives in the world?

Or was the answer something more abstract?

An identity, a formless impression? Something that borrowed from both of the preceding ideas, held it together, ultimately without being restrained by either definition?

In the end, what had Yuliana been trying to save?

Her people? Her family? Her land?

Or just herself?

Isn’t the truth that I was only ever escaping my own shame?

But through her decision here, she could still save human lives. Langoria would at least be given more time before a war would scorch its green pastures. And the person she had idolized since youth would escape a horrendous death. Wasn’t her own freedom a small price to pay for that?

—“Your highness,” the Emperor of Tratovia spoke to her, standing by the table with the contract. “I trust that you have read the contents of this document by now. Once signed, it is binding until the end of the current cycle. Beyond death, but not further than that. For what comes after this age, not even the Lords may know. Though the effective time isn’t long, I expect that you take this contract with the level of seriousness it commands.”

“Of course,” Yuliana replied and took a step forward. “And I expect that you will do the same. Call off Colonel Marafel’s execution. Stall it, postpone it indefinitely, whatever you do, save my dear friend. And keep your word that the civilian population of Langoria will not be harmed. Otherwise this document is null and void, and your majesty a renegade without honor.”

“You have my word,” the man replied, as if the feat was indeed nothing to him. “As you can see, my signature is already there. All the geas requires is your mark to complete it and become instantly binding.”

He was telling the truth. Another name was written above the line beside the one Yuliana was to write hers. The oath was meticulously prepared, all in all, and surprisingly fair. As far as Yuliana could see, there were no obvious loopholes that could have allowed an immediate betrayal. If not for just one. It being highly stylized, the Emperor’s signature was illegible. There was a chance that she was being deceived...but did she have a choice?

Yuliana picked up a fountain pen left near the stand.

There was no need to sign in blood, the correctness of the spelling was unimportant as well; the gesture was all that mattered. So long as she would leave an identifying mark—any kind of mark—as a token of her voluntary agreement, the geas would be sealed. Her fate would be thereon governed by forces beyond any mortal, and her own unbribable heart would be her judge.

Yuliana briefly hesitated before bringing down her hand.

Even if she had rationally reached the conclusion that there was no other, better way, her heart couldn’t help but doubt.

What if she was making yet another irreversible mistake?

No, surely this was the best way...the only way.

“Hm?”

At that moment, an odd sound caught her attention, halting her pen hand. There was noise coming from the staircase just outside the room. The sturdy oak door was powerless to suppress it. As if someone clad in heavy armor was climbing up in a great hurry, tripping and struggling along the way. Before the princess could identify the cause, the door was already rashly thrown open, and a knight officer pushed his way in.

Drawing a quick breath, the knight started his message,

“Your majesty, a mutiny! There’s been a mutiny! Knights have rebelled at the execution grounds, and several prisoners have—huh?”

Seeing the people in the room, the knight fell silent. As if he had found himself in the wrong room altogether, he looked helplessly around, dumbstruck.

“Did I not say we aren’t to be disturbed!” The Emperor hollered at the soldier and his enraged countenance was terrible to look at.

“What—I...Ah...”

The knight wavered in the doorway, his gaze shifting between the Emperor and the princess, his mouth opening and closing like that of a fresh fish on a cutting board.

Too late. The damage was already done.

By what little he had spilled, the princess could already surmise more or less the whole course of events and all it implied.

So very nearly she had been tricked.

But at the last possible moment, the treachery of her opponent had turned against him. Slowly, Yuliana faced the Emperor, unable to hide the playful, spiteful smile appearing on her face. In one instant, their roles had been reversed, his hold over her broken. Raising the fountain pen up before his face, she let it slide through her fingers and fall onto the floor with a light click.

A winner this day, the princess marched out of the room, the confused knight scrambling to make her way.

2

The sun was about to sink beyond the mountains, under the deep red hue of the eastern sky, when Court Wizard Carmelia finally emerged from the chamber set up as an ex tempore operating room. Awaiting in the hallway where shadows cast by golden lamps danced on the wildly patterned walls, Izumi and young Benjamin Watts stood up from their chairs to meet her.

“The operation was successful,” the cirelo sorceress reported in her unemotional tone. “The colonel’s condition remains critical, but stable for now. The rest will depend on her will to live, I suppose.”

Carmelia had been unwilling to use up the last remaining vial of the priceless Red Serum, and the rare gift of healing magic she had traded away when taking the path of a cursed oathmaker. Instead of depending on the arcane arts, she had operated the badly wounded Colonel with more conventional methods, by herself. Considering for how long the cirelo had studied humans and their anatomy, however, she was doubtless more skilled in the craft than any local practitioner of medicine. Understanding this, Izumi could voice no complaints.

For once, her good faith had been rewarded too, it seemed.

“Thank goodness for that,” Benjamin sighed. “Who would’ve thought Marafel was compatible with my blood type? After making me donate such a shocking amount of it, she had better recover quickly. Now, if you excuse me, I shall celebrate her survival with a hearty meal and a good night’s sleep. Hyawn!”

“Don’t forget the herbal medicine I left for you,” Carmelia reminded him.

“Must I drink it? The smell is—I don’t feel that bad, I should be fine without...”

“Drink it, or you will regret it in the morning.”

“Doctor’s orders,” Izumi nodded.

“You two never miss a chance to make my life difficult, do you?” Benjamin grimaced and left.

Izumi then turned back to Carmelia.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“I’m sorry to bring you more work, but...thank you,” she said with a pained smile. “I’m sure Yule will give you a big thanks too, when you see her. She might even go for a hug, so watch out.”

“Save your gratitude,” Carmelia shook her head. “I had my reasons to help the Colonel, and she is not out of death’s shadow just yet. Even in the event that she lives, she will be bedridden for weeks, if not months. And need I to remind you that we are far from safe ourselves, playing this dangerous game behind the Emperor’s back. The tide could turn on us at any moment, and by then, all our noble efforts will have been in vain. You would do well to consider this the next time you choose to act on your own and assume responsibility for other people’s lives.”

“We’ll worry about that when the time comes,” Izumi dismissed the sorceress’s warnings. “And even if things do go south one day, it won’t undo the good deeds of the here and now. So I’ll make you take my thanks whether you want them or not. I’m grateful! Really, really grateful. If I weren’t too scared of being turned into a frog, I’d totally give you a kiss!”

Carmelia averted her face, unusually awkward before Izumi’s happy smile. However, her mood soon changed and she faced the woman again with a rather intense look in her vermilion eyes.

“Setting our dark future aside, there is another matter of grave importance we need to discuss.”

“We do?” Izumi tilted her head. “It’s not about me acting without orders, is it? Can’t you just let me off the hook this once? It’s not like I’m some rank-and-rules trooper, or at least I never agreed to be such. And all’s well that ends well, wouldn’t you say? I know I shouldn’t have, but I have no regrets.”

“While your behavior is indeed problematic and against better judgment, that isn’t what I mean,” Carmelia replied. “Rather than what you did today, it’s about how you did it. About the things that were revealed in the process, about yourself.”

“Me?” the woman pointed at herself, oblivious.

“Marafel’s wound—you burned it close with the rune of ignition,” the cirelo stepped closer, close enough to force Izumi to lean back. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice? You never told me you were able to use magic. Why did you withhold such crucial information from me?”

“Eh?” Izumi shifted uncomfortably at Carmelia’s accusing words, avoiding her stare. “I didn’t mention it before?”

“You did not.”

“M-must’ve slipped my mind! Well, strictly speaking, I can’t use magic. Just runes. And I’ve only learned one rune so far, so I didn’t think it was worth bragging about. I mean, you can’t call yourself a chef, if you barely know how to cook rice seasoned with soy sauce, right? I know how to make tamagokake rice, at least!”

“Don’t change the subject. I was under the impression that those summoned from the other world were entirely unable to cast spells of any kind. How come you are an exception? When and how did you find that you had such an ability?”

“Eeeh...that’s...” Izumi struggled to answer.

Was it okay to tell the truth?

The truth, that within Yuliana’s body lived the spirit of a Divine Lord, who had granted Izumi this arcane potential.

But it had also been mentioned that possession of humans was considered a taboo, a violation of the ever-important Covenant...True enough, the Lords of Bhastifal had broken this rule themselves, but referring to their poor example was perhaps not a good excuse.

Could this revelation bring more trouble for Yuliana in the long run? How would other people react if they learned that the equivalent of a goddess lived within the girl? Moreover, one that was a sociopath bent on subjugating the known world? How would the sorceress react? Even if they were allies now, trusting Carmelia unconditionally with every matter didn’t seem very smart.

And Aiwesh herself probably wouldn’t be too happy with Izumi’s loose tongue either. She hadn’t expressly prohibited Izumi from telling anyone about her presence, but neither was she all that reasonable with her expectations in general.

Of all the people and entities in this world, Izumi was most dependent on the Lord of Light. Not only did Aiwesh have the power to kill the woman on a whim, she could make Izumi’s daily life on Ortho extremely difficult simply by removing her blessings—literacy and runes.

It was better not to risk angering her.

“...I can’t tell you how I got this power—if I were to answer that way, would you accept it?”

Not answering, Carmelia continued to stare at Izumi.

Skilled magicians were able to peer into people’s minds...Izumi swallowed nervously and looked away, wondering if she would unwittingly betray the answer. Or how she was habitually trying to imagine how the sorceress looked naked. She was in big trouble either way.

However, to Izumi’s fortune, Carmelia wouldn’t probe her further.

“I already know you are not one to hide things out of malice,” the sorceress said, pulling back and turning away. “We shall return to this topic another time. For now, I am going to have a long night ahead of me—as this abrupt revelation changes everything for us.”

“Everything?”

“Yes. Return to your chamber and rest for the day. And rest well. For starting tomorrow morning, I am going to shape you into a blade that will cut off Heaven’s Hand.”

“Eh...what?”

With those portentous words, the sorceress departed.

3

The following day, at the age of thirty-eight, Itaka Izumi found herself returned to school. Seated in a spacious room resembling an earthly classroom to a disorienting degree, a genuine blackboard before her eyes, she was to receive lessons that would have made any average teenager from her home world leap in joy.

Lessons in the esoteric arts.

However, Izumi had left teenage years behind already a long while ago, and the poor associations with the classrooms of the past left her rather anxious, even under these dream-like conditions. The early timing took its toll as well. Somehow, it becoming real had an uncanny tendency to ruin even the sweetest fantasies.

Stepping in front of the blackboard was Izumi’s teacher today—the timeless, black-clad figure of Court Wizard Carmelia, who also had the mystical ability to suck all childish joy and excitement from her surroundings with her commanding, austere presence.

Despite carrying out such a tasking surgical operation last night, there was no trace of exhaustion visible on the gloomy cirelo’s beautiful features. Certainly, there were never dark circles under her eyes. After going on living for thousands of years, staying up for a few days was probably not an effort worth mentioning. Did her kind even need sleep to begin with?

Today, the sorceress was to teach Izumi about runes.

“We do not have the time to educate you from the ground up,” Carmelia told her. “The fundamentals of runes, their origins, classifications, degrees, sizes, ranks, tendencies, affinities, seasons, or correct stroke orders...Normally, mastering all this would take several decades of diligent study. There is a great significance to which rune is used at which time of the day, under which phase of the moons, in association with which element, and so on. Countless variables affect the magnitude of the resulting phenomenon, but delving into such matters right now is naturally not possible to us. So the lesson I will give you will be brief, limited, and cruelly undetailed.”

“Well, I’m not all that sorry about it, to be honest,” Izumi said.

Ignoring her, the Court Wizard continued.

“I have taken the liberty of designing for you a secula sonatea, or ‘an arc of alignment’, a runic tool used by our kind in the past. You will spend this day memorizing the runes I’ve selected for the arc and their possible combinations, after which we will go on to test them in practice. If there are any you cannot use, I will replace them, and we will try again.”

“Okay. Before we get started, a question, sensei!” Izumi raised her hand, like a schoolgirl.

“What is it?”

“I really have to go to the toilet, can I? I know I just went, but my bladder’s like this every morning, I can’t help it.”

“…….”

“I-I’ll bear with it for a little while longer. What is that arc thing then? Some kind of weapon? I have to say I didn’t understand a word about that just now.”

Keeping her face masterfully neutral, Carmelia explained,

“Secula Sonatea is, in essence, a personalized collection of runes. They are words of power that are of particular value to adepts in their daily lives, and are therefore attuned for heightened ease of access. In the past, it was a mark by which one would know a true professional.”

“Oh, I get it. So, it’s basically like making hotkeys for video game actions?”

“…….”

“Don’t look at me like that! Just talking to myself, forget about it!”

“Normally,” the sorceress went on, “runes are selected for the arc based on their affinity with the caster, how well they complement your talents, and assist with your labors. The classic form secula sonatea brings its holder to a state where they enhance the world around them with every breath they take. Such was the ideal of the emiri of old, in the days now forgotten. Runes of the arc would be implemented one by one, only after the apprentice has thoroughly mastered the uses of each, thus proving herself worthy of taking on a new divine mystery. Never was the arc to be used for war. Never was it to be taught to those uninitiated to the Mysterium Rites, let alone to the lesser races. But the times are trying, and in your case, we must forgo tradition. Hardly the worst of our rules that I have broken.”

Carmelia paused, with a look of momentary self-reproach, before resuming,

“I have selected runes for you exclusively based on their usefulness in combat. To create a balance of offense and defense, to maximize your innate talents based on what I have seen, and ultimately, to defeat Waramoti with his divine blessings. Whether you have any affinity with the chosen words or not, we will have to test them to find out.”

“Are there any setbacks for using runes that don’t suit you?” Izumi asked.

“In the case of individual runes, no. They simply will not work or the effect will be diminished. However, when chaining runes by activating multiple words simultaneously, the resulting effects may become...unpredictable. Occasionally, they may even be reversed. A spell to reinforce the flesh may wind up rending it instead. But I have analyzed the results of your medical examination, made you ingest numerous affinity-improving concoctions, and designed your arc with particular care. These runes are relatively basic and simple. So long as you learn them properly and only use them the way I tell you to, there should be no danger of lasting damage.”

“Right...So there is a danger of taking some damage?”

“We will begin by studying balancing runes,” Carmelia yet again ignored the remark, “then move onto grounding and modifying runes, and lastly, executive runes. We’re starting with the list I have here, their forms, meanings, readings, and correct intonation, after which I will test you to see how well you’ve retained them. Based on the results, we will review where necessary.”

“I get quizzed on the first day!?” Izumi gasped.

“Do your best to memorize them all by noon. I want to conduct the first practical tests as soon as possible, so that there is time left to make adjustments. This is the first time I have made the arc for a human, and one from another world at that, so there is no way to predict how well it will function.”

“You’re working me like a dog here!” Izumi wailed. “It’s been twenty years since I last went to class! I’m already old and daft even by human standards, so go easy on me!”

“As much as I’d like to, have you already forgotten about the time limit?” Carmelia replied without mercy. “The day after tomorrow is the last of the week, and we still do not have a concrete plan to reach his majesty. Dally now, and we will be out of time before you realize it.”

“Is the deadline really so tight?” Izumi wondered. “If your master class will make me stronger, strong enough to beat the blue guy, then can’t I slice and dice the rest of the bad guys the same way, regardless of how many there are? I mean, he’s supposed to be the strongest, isn’t he?”

“Try not to count your winnings, for you have not slain Waramoti yet,” the sorceress reminded her. “Yesterday, you faced two members of the Guild, two against two, and it was only with a stroke of pure luck that you escaped with your lives. Two champions remain at the capital, and more are on their way. Heaven’s Hand being the strongest of them doesn’t mean that the rest are weak, by any means. The powers that lifted those humans to fame above the rest of their kind will reach new heights when combined. Even if you are able to protect yourself, can you say that you have what it takes to protect all those dear to you at the same time?”

“I get it, I get it,” Izumi gave up. “I’m going to have to work hard today, huh?”

“I am glad you understand your position. I shall be looking forward to your progress.”

“Alright! Leave it to me, Lia-sensei! But before we get down to business...”

“What is it?” the sorceress asked.

“Ladies’ room. I really, really have to go now.”