The Pope told me to wait, then vanished into the cathedral’s depths.

I found a stone bench and sat down, my mind snagging on the image of the girl.

Stark white hair. A face I’d never seen, yet it flashed through my thoughts like a memory.

Familiar. Haunting. A ghost from a life I couldn’t place.

A trick of the mind, I told myself, shaking my head to clear it.

I’d never been anywhere I might have met a girl her age. Even if I had, it would have been a fleeting encounter. Perhaps from before my regression?

Still, it’s strange that we could communicate.

I was certain she had said something. A sliver of a name.

El…—and nothing more. The gap in my memory was a raw, unsettling thing. 

With a soft click of my tongue, I drummed my fingers against my knee.

Just then, the Pope returned.

“My apologies for the delay,” he said, his voice hushed. “The path to this is protected by a great many barriers.”

He approached carrying a bundle wrapped in white linen, holding it with the reverence one would reserve for a priceless holy instrument.

“The Holy Relic?” I asked.

“Indeed.”

The Pope set the bundle down. As I reached for it, the cloth rustled.

I peeled back the layers, and a soft golden light spilled out, revealing the object of rumor and legend.

The Holy Grail.

It was the national treasure of the Holy Kingdom, a relic said to grant an immense measure of divine power, with only a single use remaining. And now, it sat before me.

“…It’s magnificent,” I breathed. Its golden form, adorned with simple, elegant engravings, seemed to hum with a power that was not of this world.

“A gift from the Goddess herself,” the Pope said, his voice soft with awe. “Its beauty is only natural.”

“This is clearly not of human make.”

“It is a vessel of Her grace, of course,” he replied, his reverence deepening with my every observation.

After another moment of pious reflection, he collected himself and offered the Grail to me. “Please, take it.”

“…Are you certain?”

“A promise is a promise,” the Pope said, his smile warm. “And if the Goddess saw fit to grant you the Stigmata, who am I to withhold Her grace?”

It seemed he had spent his time away meditating on the divine will. Quite the reversal from the man whose face had been a mask of raw dismay only moments ago.

I let out a dry, internal laugh at his complete turnaround. “Then I will accept it gratefully.”

I carefully took the Grail from his hands. As I did, he added, “Using it is simple. You must merely hold it and pray with all your heart.”

“Pray for what?”

“Love for the Goddess. For us, the clergy, it is the very source of our divine power.”

I paused.

Love for the Goddess. That was a sentiment I could never truly offer.

It wasn’t that I denied Her existence. The miracle of my regression was proof enough of that.

But anyone asked if I could die for Her… I couldn’t say.

To die for Lea, though? Without a moment’s hesitation.

…This will have to do.

I clutched the Grail and closed my eyes. I held no true faith, but my gratitude was real enough. She had, after all, given me a second chance.

A chance for revenge.

For that thrilling, all-consuming purpose, my gratitude was more than sufficient.

Thank you.

I focused my thanks on the Goddess, praying that this feeling would be enough to fill the Grail.

“You can finally be healed,” my master said from the side, his voice full of relief that my body would be returned to normal.

But that was never the goal. My health was not failing.

My body, however, could be made stronger. The Grail was a relic with that much power.

And just as I’d hoped…

A warm current of air brushed my cheek before swirling into the Grail. Even with my eyes closed, I could feel a potent energy gathering within the vessel.

A moment later, I slowly opened them.

“…It’s full.”

The Grail was now brimming with a shimmering, golden liquid. I glanced once at the Pope, then carefully raised the chalice to my lips.

The liquid slid down my throat, and a searing heat ignited deep within my body.

A strangled cry tore from my throat as I doubled over, clutching my abdomen. A sickening, churning sensation consumed me, as if my very organs were being twisted and rearranged, scoured clean from the inside out.

Dammit…!

I forced myself to breathe through the agony, to observe the chaos erupting inside me. My organs felt like they were expelling every dead and dying cell.

The Aura Heart etched upon my own heart began to pound with a thunderous rhythm, and the demonic energy that had seeped into it swelled, fighting back against the Grail’s power.

But a lingering trace of demonic energy was no match for a relic of the Goddess.

With a final, violent heave, the energy erupted from my throat in a spray of black-tinged blood. A splitting agony pierced through my skull.

I grimaced, my hands flying to my temples.

As a groan escaped my lips, a voice echoed in my mind, accompanied by a single, impossibly vivid scene.

“My name is Ella **. Mister, will you be my friend?”

“Aaaaargh!” I screamed, digging my fingers into my scalp, a desperate attempt to claw out the writhing something that had taken root in my mind.

It felt like I had forgotten something essential. Something I must never, ever forget.

But the memory remained just beyond my grasp.

“Baron!”

“What’s wrong?”

The Pope and my master rushed to my side. The pain in my head raged, showing no sign of stopping, and only after several long minutes did it finally begin to fade.

Breathing raggedly, I collapsed to the floor.

The Grail’s divine energy now filled every space where the demonic taint had taken root. My body surged with a vitality I had never known, my Aura capacity easily doubled.

On top of that, the demonic energy Pepia had implanted in me was gone, utterly erased.

Everything had gone perfectly. Ironically, I had no strength left to feel pleased.

I finally steadied my breathing and pushed myself up. The Pope caught my arm, helping me stay upright.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“…Yes. I’m fine.”

I pushed my sweat-soaked hair back from my face. “For a moment there… I really thought I was going to die.”

I leaned against the cool stone of a cathedral pillar.

The Pope studied me, his expression cautious. “Are you truly well?”

“Yes,” I answered, a faint, weary smile touching my lips. “It seems I’m still alive.”

In truth, it was far more than that.

The power coursing through me was on a scale I had never experienced. My sensitivity to Aura was so sharp I felt I could sense Lancelot dozing in his quarters across the city.

The only problem was the voice, now branded even more clearly into my mind.

…Who in the world is she?

The girl from the Trial of Patience. A moment ago, her voice had been as clear as if she were standing beside me. 

This was no hallucination. I had to find her. I made a quiet resolve to begin a search, using her face and the first two syllables of her name as a starting point.

Just then, my master approached.

“…You’ve reached the pinnacle.”

The pinnacle.

He knew. My master, with his centuries of experience, recognized it instantly. 

Grand Master.

“I was lucky,” I said.

It was luck preceded by excruciating pain, but becoming a Grand Master was fortunate nonetheless.

For a few minutes of agony, I had become the fourth Grand Master on the continent.

“…You madman,” my master muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. Even so, his eyes still showed worry.

I offered him a faint, reassuring smile.

The Pope looked between us and cleared his throat. “I am glad it was resolved so well. In that case, I would hope you can now resolve our matter…”

Ah, yes. The corruption. He had told me that in exchange for the Duke’s cure, I was to expose the dark dealings of Cardinal Key and Honorary Cardinal Pain.

This was, of course, a separate matter from the Grail.

But it’s something I have to do anyway. Better to get it over with.

Curing the Duke was for Lea’s sake, and I had no love for those men.

Still… using an agent of the Empire to purge the Holy Kingdom of its own corruption? The irony was thick enough to choke on.

“You need not worry,” I said, suppressing the thought. “The work has already begun.”

In fact, the seeds I had sown were already beginning to sprout. I could feel the weight of the sealed note in my pocket.

The rumors should start circulating soon. A colossal rumor, spread by the infamous Al Fortia, the intelligence arm of House Artezia.

I look forward to seeing the look on Key Dupron's face.

The thought brought a small, satisfied smile to my lips.

* * *

And so, time passed. A week flew by in a flash.

And just as I had planned, the whispers began.

“Have you heard the rumor?”

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