Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume 5.10 - Chapter 12

The Race to Become Zent

“Hm...?”

The library had vanished, and the Goddess of Wisdom was nowhere to be seen. Instead, I was now face-to-face with Ferdinand, who appeared to be at his wit’s end. He was close enough that I could feel his breath, and there was nothing but worry in his eyes—the last thing I’d expected when he’d sounded so outraged.

I stared at Ferdinand in surprise, and my mouth flapped. Only then did his anger start to show. Something in my hand vanished at the same time.

“You are Rozemyne, correct?”

“Yesh,” I replied.

“Give me a proper response.”

“I’m sho showwy that I sheemingly shaddened or shurprised you in shome way.”

“What are you even saying?” Ferdinand snapped. But the slurring wasn’t my fault; he was pinching my cheek so hard that it was tough to speak.

He’s being so unreasonable today!

“Rozemyne—there is a limit to how long one can go without learning one’s lesson.”

“Bwuh?”

I swatted at the hand on my cheek; the least Ferdinand could do was release me before starting his rant. He gave me one last squeeze, then let go... but he didn’t move his face away. So much for my desire to get as far away from my lecturer as I could.

“Your feud with Bezewanst began after you charged into the temple’s book room,” Ferdinand snapped. “Then you caught the royal family’s attention by barging into the Royal Academy’s library with unstable mana. Has it ever occurred to you that your obsession with books always leads to trouble?”

In my defense, I’d caused plenty of problems without the allure of a nice library. Protesting would only make things worse for me, though, so I simply nodded and allowed the lecture to wash over me.

“It has?” Ferdinand replied. “Yet you still gave Mestionora your body in exchange for a chance to use her library. How could you be so foolish?”

“Let me tell you, it was some library. A paradise, even. The books there were seriously to die for, and they covered every wall. I’m sure there were plenty about research. You should come with me next time; then you’ll understand just how amazing it was.”

My attempt to calm Ferdinand instead made his cheek twitch. “Oh, how thrilling. An invitation to the distant heights. Was flirting with death once not enough for you?”

“The distant heights”?! So that wasn’t a paradise on earth?!

Ferdinand clicked his tongue. “Have you not fully returned yet?”

“What do you mean?”

“Rozemyne, list the names of those important to you. Who came to mind when I threatened you? Can you remember what the goddess did when she obtained your body? What were you doing before you made the exchange? And what must we do now?”

“Huh? Umm...”

I was too overwhelmed to even ask why he was interrogating me all of a sudden. I tried to answer his questions but immediately drew a blank; there was a thin fog of sorts clouding my memories. What had I been doing?

“I don’t know,” I eventually replied. “But I remember the book I was just reading. It was about the gods, and—”

“Enough,” Ferdinand interrupted with a grimace. “Do what you can to forget about it.”

“Now you’re just being cruel. I could never forget something I went out of my way to read.”

“The goddess must have meddled with your mind to make it easier for her to inhabit your body. And to no small degree—the impact appears to have been quite profound.”

I’d meant to lend the goddess my body only for a moment; I certainly hadn’t consented to her messing with my mind. It was kind of scary to wonder what was happening to me. I drank a potion Ferdinand gave me and then asked what he’d meant.

“She did not answer my questions, so I do not know. Even if she left your mind untouched, I suspect you showed all the restraint of a pet being handed its dinner. Take care not to comply with the requests of a god again—your mana is far too easily influenced.”

Though he didn’t actually say it, Ferdinand mouthed the words “Because of your Devouring.” There was pain in his eyes. I reached out and stroked the furrow in his brow, hoping to comfort him, but it only made his expression more stern.

“You seem to recognize me, but do you remember Ehrenfest’s archducal family?” he asked. “Do you remember the faces of your retainers? Try to name them.”

I did as instructed, listing off the names of everyone in the archducal family and each of my retainers. Ferdinand sighed in relief when I was done.

“Much better.”

“Sorry that I worried you. Fear not, though—I am so determined to recreate Mestionora’s library that I will not embrace the distant heights so easily.”

“You have only intensified my fears...” Ferdinand replied at length. Though his mouth was still twisted in displeasure, the anger was fading from his eyes. His emotions were always so hard to read, but at least he seemed to be feeling better.

“Are you two done yet?” came another, equally exasperated voice.

“Wait, what?” I muttered, my head cocked to one side. “There’s someone else here?” Ferdinand was still right in front of me, so my view was severely limited.

Ferdinand pulled away and stood up. “This is the Garden of Beginnings. Erwaermen and Gervasio are here with us.”

“Ah... Aaah! It’s all coming back to me! We were in the heat of battle! Ferdinand, how can you be so calm?!” I shot to my feet and moved to protect him. But as I took up arms against Erwaermen, a finger jabbed me in the back.

“Relax,” Ferdinand said. “The battle is over. Mestionora forbade the taking of any more lives.”

“Come again?” On closer examination, though both Erwaermen and Gervasio were looking at us, neither one of them seemed ready for combat. “To think she would settle the fight so easily... Goddesses sure are something. Praise be to—”

“Cease your prayer, fool!” Ferdinand yelled as I went to raise my hands. “Do you want the same thing to happen again?!”

Erwaermen gave a slight smile. “Myne—as one with the Devouring, you are more receptive to the power of others. If you were to pray here, in a place meant for communing with the gods, they would most likely descend upon the earth for their amusement. I would welcome such a thing—they are dear friends of mine, after all—but it would place a tremendous burden on you. I would advise you to be careful.”

In stark contrast to before, Erwaermen’s tone was exceptionally calm. I could probably thank Mestionora for that; she not only had such a massive and wondrous library but also possessed the power to soothe a former god and end the fighting in the blink of an eye.

Wow, what a powerhouse. I wouldn’t expect anything less. Praise be to Mestionora the Goddess of Wisdom!

“So what did you all discuss with Mestionora?” I asked.

“We shared our desires and understandings of the current situation,” Ferdinand explained. “Then we agreed to continue our battle for the throne through more peaceful means.”

Gervasio grimaced. “Even in these circumstances, that was a gross abbreviation.” He was right; I was still none the wiser about what I’d missed.

“I strongly disagree. Given what is happening in the auditorium, we do not have time for a lengthy discussion.”

I understood that time was of the essence and that prioritizing efficiency was a staple for Ferdinand, but I still wanted a bit more detail. “At the very least, explain what everyone wanted and what information was shared,” I said. “I am still on edge and ready to fight.”

“You say that, but did you not forget we were fighting in the first place?”

Ferdinand could make as many observations as he pleased; it didn’t change the fact that I was deeply unnerved. He and Gervasio had been at each other’s throats, telling one another to die or turn into a feystone, but now they were conversing as normal—well, with the exception of the awkward atmosphere between them. Then there was Erwaermen. Just moments ago, he had been all “dispatch Quinta” this and “don’t obstruct Terza” that, but now he was quietly listening to reason.

“It’s not my fault so much changed while I was reading. Everyone’s so relaxed now that I can’t help being uncomfortable.”

“We were told exactly how the gods view this matter. Yurgenschmidt was made to welcome those facing Ewigeliebe’s persecution. Thus, the gods consider it only natural to welcome the Lanzenavians seeking asylum.”

According to Ferdinand, Yurgenschmidt existed specifically to shelter the mana-wielders of the various outside worlds. If there were Lanzenavians with mana who wished to live here, the gods would accept them without a second thought.

“Did the gods think nothing of the Lanzenavians slaughtering dozens of Ahrensbach nobles?” I asked with a glare.

Erwaermen nodded, wearing a completely blank expression. “My words mean nothing to your human society. I have said not to kill, but men have killed each other by the thousands since time immemorial. Hundreds of nobles died recently—a few dozen more is a drop in the pond. And what does it matter when those from the outside will replace them?” From his perspective, the civil war had just taken place, and the deaths of a few more from Ahrensbach were barely even a blip on his radar.

“But it’s not a problem of numbers for us...” I said.

“Humans grow old and cut each other down. That is their nature. It is pointless to dwell on societal matters when circumstances change so drastically.”

Even just in Ehrenfest, there were vast gaps between us in the form of status and perspectives. Of course humans and gods wouldn’t see eye to eye.

“In any case,” Erwaermen continued, “so long has passed since anyone came to speak with me about human society.”

In the distant past, Zent candidates had regularly visited the Garden of Beginnings to obtain their Books of Mestionora. The abundance of mana had meant Erwaermen could take human form and interact with his guests whenever he pleased—but then the shortage had struck. Erwaermen had no longer been able to transform, and people had stopped obtaining the Book of Mestionora, likely because religious ceremonies had started dying out and the Sovereign temple had moved out of the holy land. To make matters even worse, the decision to pass a magic tool Grutrissheit from generation to generation had made praying largely redundant, so fewer people had visited the Garden of Beginnings at all. The history I’d absorbed made that clear to me.

“Conversation partners are irrelevant,” Erwaermen said. “In the absence of a Zent who can supply the foundation, the country gates have dried out, and Yurgenschmidt is on the verge of collapse. If nothing happens to remedy this, we can expect death on a scale that would make your mere dozens seem laughable. My wish is for a new Zent to be born posthaste. I desire nothing else in particular.”

Erwaermen wanted someone—anyone—to hurry up and dye Yurgenschmidt’s foundation. He didn’t consider King Trauerqual a Zent in the slightest because of the man’s inability to carry out that most important duty.

“Thus,” he continued, “to forestall the looming devastation, we decided you Zent candidates should compete to see who should receive permission to dye the foundation.”

“Wait, what?” I asked. “‘Zent candidates’? To whom are you referring?”

“Are there Zent candidates beyond the three of you? If so, bring them here at once.” The anticipation in his voice made one thing clear: we were all such great troublemakers that he was ready to welcome just about anyone who could take our place.

“Well, Lady Detlinde is a self-proclaimed candidate, and some of the royals were able to make it here.”

Ferdinand shook his head. “As far as Erwaermen is concerned, one must have the Book of Mestionora to be a Zent candidate. The magic tool Grutrissheit holds no meaning.”

Ouch. So his standards are the same as they were in the ancient past. Not a single member of the current royal family counts as a candidate, then.

“Erwaermen wants Yurgenschmidt to be fully supplied with mana,” Ferdinand continued. “To that end, we three candidates will engage in a competition of speed. We shall race to fill the three drained country gates before returning here, to the Garden of Beginnings.”

“Whoever wins gets taken to the foundation,” Gervasio added.

The two men both wore confident smiles. It didn’t make sense. As I understood it, Ferdinand didn’t even want to become the Zent.

“Ferdinand... are you truly resolved to take the throne?” I asked.

“As long as I dye the foundation, Erwaermen will not question my decisions. I could punish the Lanzenavians or abolish the current royal family without opposition.”

Erwaermen had even praised the idea that, by the next generation, Zent candidates would need to earn their own Books of Mestionora again. It was an extremely long-term solution—and there was no guarantee it would work—but Ferdinand only needed to dye the foundation. Then he could freely use the magic tool Grutrissheit to decree a new Zent and start trying to revive prayer.

“Quinta—I see you have once again omitted precious details,” Erwaermen said dryly. “Mestionora decreed that all life is valuable and not to be wasted. Keep that in mind.”

In other words, he would permit punishments but not lethal action. I’d never thought I would hear the phrase “all life is valuable” here in Yurgenschmidt, where mass executions of the innocent seemed so commonplace.

“You really should have recorded it...” I said.

“How would that have proved anything? Those who did not see Mestionora’s descent would only hear your voice.”

“True...”

I’d already earned a bit of a reputation for my compassion, so anyone who heard a recording of that nature would assume I was singing the same old song. Erwaermen was right—it wouldn’t have accomplished anything.

How unfortunate...

“And why do you want to be the Zent?” I asked, turning to Gervasio.

“It will grant me the power to destroy that villa. Girls will no longer be sent here to birth children doomed to live as I did, and those with mana will receive respect, not live in scorn.” He mentioned that he would also be able to rescue the Sovereign Order from Dunkelfelger’s reinforcements and assign new aubs to the presently empty duchies so that Lanzenavians could move to them.

“But why do you want to live here in Yurgenschmidt? The people of Lanzenave need your feystones and schtappes, don’t they?”

“That is not accurate.”

As it turned out, Lanzenave was making such great technological advancements in so many fields that mana-wielders were gradually being driven into a corner. The royals there were quickly losing their power and were being treated as no more than sources of mana.

“Lanzenave’s royal family is divided into two factions: one that wants us to return with a mass of schtappes and exercise our power over the populace once again, and another that wants to escape Lanzenave and stay here as Yurgenschmidt nobles.”

Leonzio was leading those who wished to return to Lanzenave with schtappes, whereas Gervasio had come here in search of somewhere peaceful they could spend the rest of their lives. They had separate aims, but they both agreed that Yurgenschmidt was ripe for the picking while it lacked a proper Zent.

“Leonzio’s faction was behind the deaths of those Ahrensbach nobles,” Gervasio explained. “That said, as I understand it, Lady Detlinde gave him permission to do as he pleased with anyone in the duchy who would oppose her. It came as startling news to me; I did not think Yurgenschmidt gave power to those so willing to commit atrocities. But then I met her, and it occurred to me just how foolish and self-centered she really was.”

There was a short pause before Gervasio continued, “I need a position of power to ensure that Yurgenschmidt remains safe, to ensure we Lanzenavians are not punished, and to reward those of the Sovereign Knight’s Order who supported me. I must become the Zent.”

“Well, now I understand everyone’s motivations... but why am I getting drawn into this?” I asked. “I’m an aub, right? Doesn’t that prevent me from dyeing the country’s foundation?”

“If you are an aub, then you need only take part as one,” Erwaermen replied. “Aubs are meant to replenish the country gates in the first place.”

“My apologies, but that was only the case when the country was first founded and the aubs of each duchy had their own Books of Mestionora. Though, well... I don’t mind participating if replenishing the gates is that important...”

Erwaermen was basing his perspective on the days of old, so I was obligated to participate as well. “It would not be impossible for you to become the Zent,” he noted, now looking straight at me. “Someone else could dye your foundation. They would not even find it challenging—as you have the Devouring, your mana can easily be overwritten.”

“Erwaermen, how are you suddenly able to tell me apart from Ferdinand...?” I asked. “I thought our mana looked the same to you.”

“Yes, but you are currently filled with Mestionora’s power.”

So the goddess dyed me...

I gazed down at my arm and saw... absolutely nothing of note. I couldn’t see mana, so it looked the same as usual.

“I sense the divinity of the goddess within you, but your words and actions detract from it,” Gervasio said. “I would rather you remain silent.” Though he looked at me with respect, I sensed that he was seeing someone else entirely.

“We have no more time to waste,” Erwaermen interjected. “The race will now begin. The gods shall decide your destinations for you.” He raised a finger and out shot three thin bands of mana—one red, one green, and one gold. We three Zent candidates received one each, at which point the former god said, “Dye the gate of your divine color.”

I’d received red, Ferdinand green, and Gervasio gold. That meant I would need to head to Klassenberg’s gate with the Goddess of Earth’s sigil, Ferdinand to Hauchletzte’s with the Goddess of Water’s, and Gervasio to Gilessenmeyer’s with the Goddess of Light’s.

“Now go,” Erwaermen said. “Forge your own teleportation circles and replenish the country gates.”

“Grutrissheit!”

At once, we three Zent candidates formed our Books of Mestionora. Ferdinand and Gervasio immediately began drawing in the air, but I still needed to search for what I wanted. I put “Klassenberg country gate teleportation circle” into my tablet while silently bemoaning its design.

Though I appeared to have fallen behind, that couldn’t have been further from the truth. I took out a sheet of fey paper, smirked, and then activated my spell.

“Copy and place!”

I finished my teleportation circle in the blink of an eye. Ferdinand noted that I was wasting my fey paper, not even pausing his work, while Erwaermen and Gervasio voiced their surprise.

Inspecting the room with a triumphant smile, I raised my Book of Mestionora and said, “Kehrschluessel. Klassenberg.” I was comfortably in first place.