Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume 5.10 - Chapter SS4

Ferdinand — A Battle That Must Be Won

This is not someone I can fight and defeat head-on.

I was in the Royal Academy’s auditorium, doing battle with an opponent whose mana surely exceeded that of anyone in Yurgenschmidt. The Adalgisa villa took great care to maximize the capacities of those born there, and even then, Gervasio was said to have been head and shoulders above the rest. He was also the king of Lanzenave, and it seemed painfully unlikely he had rested on his laurels; I expected the man to have been compressing his mana ever since taking the throne.

As the only member of his country with a schtappe, Gervasio was tasked with supplying Lanzenave alone. One needed only to consider how many archducal family members were required to sustain a single duchy to realize just how strong he must have been, carrying the weight of an entire nation on his shoulders with the support of perhaps his predecessor at most. He knew how to keep his mana expenditure to a minimum while still dealing truly devastating blows.

As I am now, his mana capacity and technique are far greater than my own.

I rained attacks on Gervasio simply to keep him from fighting back. Once he became accustomed to my various tools and retaliated, my defeat would come in a matter of moments. My opponent appeared to have no weapons of note besides his instant-death poison, but even then, I was barely able to keep up with him. I was struck with bitterness as he deftly and easily blocked my attacks.

However... this is a war, not a duel.

We had come here to stop Gervasio from becoming the Zent. It did not matter how many of us fell in the process; as long as we kept him from the throne, victory was ours. In that regard, subjugating the Adalgisa villa with a surprise attack in the dead of night and seizing his resources had proved crucial. It was less of a blow than I would have liked, but it did raise our chances of success.

Atop the altar, Gervasio continued to drink rejuvenation potions. I did not know how many he had with him, but I doubted there were many or that he was concealing any offensive magic tools; he had come to the Royal Academy not to fight but to visit the library and obtain the Book of Mestionora. There was also a chance he would not be able to use all the potions at his disposal, depending on their strength.

I shall gradually deplete his potions and mana. Does he have any other openings?

Gervasio had just obtained his Book of Mestionora, so he had yet to master using it. Furthermore, considering Lanzenave’s focus on maintaining tools and structures that already existed, he would not have much experience using mana to create something new. That was the only area in which I could surpass him. If something happened to give him the upper hand there as well, he would turn the tables on me in mere moments.

Or so I thought. In the events that followed, Mestionora revealed that Gervasio’s book was fragmented—a consequence of our earlier interference. It was complete enough that he could patch up most of the gaps in the underground archive, but for now, I was at a comfortable advantage. Rozemyne’s absurd actions had worked in my favor.

If winning through a direct battle is out of the question, I must work in the shadows, set traps, and prey on my opponent’s weaknesses.

I pretended to heed the Goddess of Wisdom’s advice, then proposed that we race to fill the country gates with mana. The entire time, I manipulated the conversation and ensured the rules would suit my intentions.

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

“Grutrissheit!”

At once, we three Zent candidates formed our Books of Mestionora to make teleportation circles. Rozemyne used the replication spell she had created to finish her circle in an instant, then teleported away.

Perhaps I should have learned it after all.

There had not been time for me to practice the spell, but seeing Rozemyne use it once again made its convenience all too apparent.

Erwaermen and Gervasio were stunned to have witnessed a brand-new spell. The latter scoured his Book of Mestionora in an attempt to find it, but he never would. It was Rozemyne’s invention and would not appear in the Book until she or I died.

I observed Gervasio while drawing my magic circle. His speed was of no particular note. Maintenance was the priority in Lanzenave, and its kings had few opportunities to brew, create magic tools, or draw magic circles.

Destroying my opponent’s circle would force him to draw it anew, but how much time would that buy me? Was he completely focused on the matter at hand, or was he watching me in turn? I could not miss even the slightest detail.

If my next move fails, my entire plan will crumble to dust.

I continued to eye Gervasio as I came close to finishing my circle, then carefully retrieved one of my magic tools. Hopefully, he had not noticed the slight movement of my cape.

Gervasio suddenly turned to look at me. He recoiled a little when our eyes met, but he was focused on my almost complete teleportation circle. His was not even halfway done. I could guess from the slight crease in his brow that he was bitter about not being able to match my speed.

Maybe he was still shaken by Rozemyne’s new spell, or maybe he was stressed about being so far behind me, but Gervasio simply returned to completing his teleportation circle. He was not paying attention to me in the slightest.

Now!

Upon completing my teleportation circle, I shot Gervasio in the hand to further distract him, then shot his circle, causing it to dissipate.

“What?! You coward...!” Gervasio barked. He had crumpled to the ground, but it was only a flesh wound; as per Mestionora’s wishes, my attack was meant to slow him down, not claim his life. As much as he thought it was spineless, it was his own fault for letting his guard down.

I threw a potion in his direction. “We were instructed not to kill one another. There were no rules against mere obstruction.”

“Hmm... Indeed,” Erwaermen agreed. “There were no rules against you interfering with one another.”

Gervasio’s eyes widened in unwarranted disbelief. The gods would not interfere as long as Mestionora’s decree was being followed. Their only concern was whether men upheld the agreements they made with the divine, which became blatantly obvious if one considered exactly when the gods had intervened throughout Yurgenschmidt’s long history.

The gods do not think as men do. Gervasio needs to realize that.

As long as I gave him a rejuvenation potion and made it clear I was not trying to dispatch him, not even the Goddess of Wisdom would complain. It was unlikely Gervasio would drink the potion for fear of poison, but I did not care; the gesture was meant only to reassure the gods. In the event that he did consume it, though, he would quickly discover its purpose—using the drinker’s mana to completely heal their wounds and restore their stamina.

For as long as he cannot use his hand, Gervasio will need to drink a potion of some kind.

Drinking my rejuvenation potion would drain his mana. Drinking his own would deplete his stock even further. His next move was guaranteed to benefit me.

Before my opponent could recover from his daze, I raised my Book of Mestionora before my completed teleportation circle. “Kehrschluessel. Klassenberg.”

Upon my arrival at the Earth gate, Rozemyne welcomed me with dubious eyes. “Based on prior experience, I suspect you’re here to sabotage the race that Mestionora and Erwaermen set up. You can’t hide anything from me!”

If she understood the situation as well as she claimed, we would not need to waste time with unnecessary explanations. But alas, her next words proved she had completely missed the mark. She sincerely asked me to “play fair,” which was so foolish it made my head ache. Had she forgotten that not just her life but the lives of everyone she knew depended on the outcome of this contest? I could not believe those words had come from a woman so emotionally fragile that a single battle had given her an incapacitating aversion to feystones.

Could this have resulted from Mestionora’s interference?

The goddess had claimed to have severed any memories that might interfere with Rozemyne’s love of reading. If that included negative memories, then perhaps Rozemyne no longer remembered the more brutal aspects of this war. It worried me what she might have forgotten, but those she cared about most were generally from the lower city.

Rozemyne seemed fine for now, so I elected not to say anything until the fighting was over. I did not have time to find out which people she still remembered, how many of her memories had vanished, and whether commoners without mana would even be able to restore them.

“Once you have finished supplying mana, return to the Royal Academy and summon your retainers. Listen to them well, then ensure you rest in the Ehrenfest Dormitory. Is that understood?”

My instructions were meant to limit Rozemyne’s movements. She was somewhat naive and rarely read between the lines, so Gervasio could easily manipulate her. The last thing we needed was for her to develop unnecessary sympathy for the Lanzenavians and start behaving in unexpected ways.

“Is there anything for me to do other than Mana Replenishment?” Rozemyne asked. That she was even inquiring meant she was likely to follow my instructions.

By sending Rozemyne to the Ehrenfest Dormitory, I would separate her from the bloodshed. I could not risk her following me to where I was going next; her bleeding heart would obstruct my plans and guarantee their failure.

Even with her goddess-dyed mana, Rozemyne is still, well... Rozemyne.

She was so full of divinity that she was faintly shining, but her actions and expression could not have been more distinct from when she was hosting Mestionora. I was relieved to see her acting as I remembered but also irritated that the goddess’s influence lingered. It was yet unclear how much damage the possession had done to Rozemyne’s memories, and it frustrated me that I could not investigate immediately. Still, I would exploit the situation as much as I could.

I gave Rozemyne a light push on the shoulder, causing her to stumble. “If even that was enough to disrupt your balance, then you will need more practice.”

Rozemyne was too unsteady on her feet to pass as the avatar of a goddess; her retainers would need to reteach her how to dedication whirl and move with grace. I formed my Book of Mestionora, planning what I was going to say.

The rest is a race against time. Am I going to make it?

“Kehrschluessel. Ersterde.”

Once back at the Royal Academy, I sprinted in the direction of the auditorium. I sent several ordonnanzes along the way.

“Aub Dunkelfelger, this is Ferdinand. At the order of the Goddess of Wisdom, do not kill any of the prisoners. I cannot predict what manner of punishment will befall those who violate her will. Inform all those in charge of prisoners in the palace and the Adalgisa villa.”

“Prince Anastasius, this is Ferdinand. Please wait in the auditorium and prepare for more combat. Ehrenfest will provide any rejuvenation potions or such that you require.”

“Eckhart, this is Ferdinand. Make sure Prince Anastasius gets what he needs, then have Rozemyne’s retainers gather in the auditorium.”

Dunkelfelger’s knights now had control of the central building; there were no black capes anywhere, only blue. Raublut had probably been defeated as well. I did not have any evidence, but the force with which Aub Dunkelfelger and Lady Magdalena had rushed into the auditorium gave me good reason to believe I was right.

“Lord Ferdinand, where in the world have you been?!” Justus exclaimed, briskly approaching me as I arrived outside the auditorium.

“Contact Professor Hirschur and the knights in Ehrenfest’s teleportation hall. Get them to open the dormitory at once. Tell the aub to prepare a room in which Rozemyne can rest when she returns and the tea party room in preparation for a meeting with the royal family.”

Justus repeated my instructions back to me, completely unfazed, then raised an eyebrow. “Ehrenfest is busy with its own cleanup. Are you sure they will accept?”

“Frame it as an opportunity for them to provide rear support during a decisive battle for the Sovereignty. They will not refuse us then. The sun rose some time ago; their attendants will already be at work, and an emergency message will easily reach the archduke.”

“Understood.”

Justus then took his leave, sending ordonnanzes as he made his way to the teleportation corridor.

I opened the door to the auditorium, gave Rozemyne’s guard knights their instructions, and then entrusted the prisoners being held in the Adalgisa villa to Strahl. Aub Dunkelfelger would oversee the palace’s captives and the safety of the Royal Academy. To keep Lady Magdalena from interfering, I tasked her with looking after King Trauerqual and Prince Hildebrand.

As I gave the last of my orders, Prince Anastasius and his retinue of guard knights approached me. I started toward the door to meet with them, accepting rejuvenation potions and offensive magic tools from Eckhart as I went.

“Raublut has been captured,” the prince said. “What more is there to be done?”

“The capture of a small fry like Raublut does not mark the end of this war,” I said. “Gervasio must be imprisoned as well.”

Anastasius took in a sharp breath, having most likely remembered the man’s Book of Mestionora. “He’s still alive? I thought you would have finished him.”

“A goddess has ordered that no more lives be taken. We must eliminate Gervasio without killing him, and to that end, we must go to the Sovereign temple.”

“The Sovereign temple...?” Anastasius repeated, bewildered.

I saw no reason to elaborate and instead started down the hallway connected to the dormitories. Heisshitze followed, acting on an order from his aub. I did not mind as long as he did not get in my way.

“Prince Anastasius,” I said, “what is the status of the royal palace? Can we expect to pass through unmolested on our way to the Sovereign temple? We are under serious time constraints and must get there without delay.”

“The palace isn’t sealed, and its doors are open wide enough that Dunkelfelger’s knights have been passing through with their prisoners. You’ll need royal authority to access the temple, but...” He paused, and a look of realization crossed his face. “Don’t tell me that’s why you asked me here. Is this any way to treat royalty?!”

I sneered at him. The very idea that the royal family deserved my respect was laughable. “It was not the only reason,” I said. “There is so much more I need you to do.”

“You’re acting out of line. You were before, and you definitely are now.”

“Where do you think we are? This is a battlefield. If we do not stop Gervasio soon, you will not even be a royal anymore. By the goddess’s decree, he will need to spare you, but the things he will do will make you wish you were dead.”

Raublut’s defeat had lulled Anastasius into a false sense of security. He had not even thought about Gervasio becoming the next Zent.

“If we are too late, we will not win,” I said. “Gervasio is stronger than I am.”

“What?! That can’t be right. You had him pinned down atop the altar!”

“I merely kept him from retaliating by showering him with as many kinds of attacks as I could manage. He blocked them all with ease.”

Anastasius and his guard knights looked at me with hard eyes. If nothing else, they finally seemed to grasp the danger we were facing. The prince grabbed a feystone and prepared to send an ordonnanz.

“Mother, this is Anastasius. I am going to the Sovereign temple. For lack of time, we must race through the palace on our highbeasts. Please open the balcony nearest to the door!”

As he continued to send messages, the prince’s brisk walk turned into a run. The rest of us kept his pace, and together we burst through the teleportation door to the palace.

“We can mount our highbeasts when we reach the wider halls,” Anastasius exclaimed. “But until then, we need to run!”

Up ahead, I saw several black-capes working with Dunkelfelger’s knights. Things here had calmed down somewhat since the rebellion was quelled. The scholars I glimpsed were likely at work rather than evacuating.

“Prince Anastasius,” I said, “Gilessenmeyer, Hauchletzte, and Klassenberg are going to inquire about their country gates. Order the scholars to send you an ordonnanz when they do.”

“Their country gates?” he replied, slightly winded. “Why?”

“You could tell them a goddess descended upon Yurgenschmidt, but I would consider it a waste of time. Neither the scholars nor the concerned duchies would understand. We need only know when they try to contact you.”

There was no reason to explain precisely what was happening at the gates. I simply wanted as much information as I could get about Rozemyne’s and Gervasio’s progress.

“I would doubt you if not for your disappearing act atop the altar,” Anastasius said. “But yes, understood. Mergitor, stay in the palace and serve as our go-between with the scholars.”

Though the prince looked dissatisfied, he did as I advised and instructed one of his knights to stay behind. Mergitor took his leave from us and sprinted in another direction, sending ordonnanzes all the while. His contact with the scholars would keep me abreast of the gate situation, I hoped.

“From here, we use our highbeasts.”

We followed the prince’s guard knights as they led us down the palace’s wider corridors. Ahead of us, attendants stood near a balcony with its doors wide open. We shot through, then landed on the balcony of another building and rushed inside.

The royal palace had originally been built by a Zent who wished to keep their family on the throne forever. They had designed it specifically in anticipation of an attack from the Royal Academy, so there were plenty of confusing twists and turns between the Academy’s teleportation door and the Sovereign temple. First-time visitors would be lucky to make it through at all. If not for Anastasius, I would most likely have run out of time before even reaching the temple.

“This is Mergitor,” said a newly arrived ordonnanz. “Klassenberg has just sent word. They want to know why their country gate is shining.”

I calculated roughly how long it would take for word to travel from Klassenberg to the royal palace. Gervasio had probably recovered from his wound and redrawn his teleportation circle. I wanted to reach the Sovereign temple before Gilessenmeyer sent word, else I feared the Lanzenavian king would finish supplying his country gate.

“Prince Anastasius,” I said, “you must forbid the duchies not involved in this battle from entering the Royal Academy. Let it be known that anyone who arrives without permission will promptly be deemed an enemy and cut down.”

“Ferdinand, that—”

“King Trauerqual is under the influence of trug. A single nudge from a bad actor could drop the royal family into an even more precarious situation.”

“I will contact Mother.”

Giving the prince a moment to send his ordonnanz, I turned to those behind me. “Heisshitze, convey the same message to your aub. Those who did not fight to save Yurgenschmidt have no business obstructing those of us who did.”

“Understood!”

Anastasius’s head guard led us downstairs, then indicated the teleportation door to the Sovereign temple. The prince opened it while the rest of us dismounted our highbeasts, and we passed through one by one—a veritable swarm of armored knights.

A blue priest and two grays I assumed to be his attendants were guarding the door on the other side. They stared at us in shock before the blue priest cried, “What is the meaning of this?!”

“We have business with the Sovereign High Bishop,” I said. “Where are his chambers?”

“Business of what kind?” the blue priest asked despite Anastasius being with us. “We were not told to expect anyone, and your arrival was far too militant for—”

I grabbed the man by his robes and yanked him toward me. “I asked for the location of the High Bishop’s chambers. Our business is urgent, so answer. Now.”

“Eep! How dare you lay hands on a priest serving the gods!”

The man’s lips were evidently sealed, so I struck him with a punch and callously let him drop. Then I rounded on the two gray priests. They were not used to violence and pointed the way without even the slightest pause.

“The High Bishop’s chambers are at the far end of that hallway!”

We sped in the indicated direction, and within moments, alarm bells started to ring. Ehrenfest’s temple had a similar warning system; the grays must have activated their magic tools to announce our invasion. I had let them be, assuming there would not be much they could do, but this was problematic. We could not risk Immanuel running away or hiding somewhere.

“I should have broken their arms and legs...” I mused.

“Those were priests!” Anastasius cried. “Were you not once a man of the temple?!”

The prince was surprisingly quick to preach for a man who had once looked down on temple ceremonies and studying ancient language. Or had this faith come about from his interactions with Rozemyne? No matter the case, I spared him only a glance; I did not want his troublesome ethics to get in the way.

“It matters not,” I said. “Nobles or priests, anyone who stands in our way must be eliminated.”

The same went for royals. I did not have the time to start being considerate of those who obstructed me or to scour the temple.

As we continued toward the High Bishop’s chambers, more priests rushed out of doors up ahead to stop us. “Halt, intruders!” they exclaimed. “You shall go no farther!”

In no time at all, the hallway was awash with blue and gray priests. Did they truly think they would be able to stop us? Their lack of exposure to violence had made them tragically naive.

“Knock aside those who obstruct us and secure Immanuel,” I said. “Be quick, but do not kill anyone. I would rather we finish this before word arrives from Gilessenmeyer.”

“Yes, my lord!” Eckhart replied. He sprang into action before anyone else, transforming his schtappe into a sword and cutting a path around the priests who stood in our way. “Move!”

Blood splattered against the walls and the other priests, who screamed when they saw the knight tearing through them. Many of them scattered without a second thought.

“Aaagh! Protect the High Bishop!”

“High Bishop! The intruders!”

Several priests rushed to the High Bishop’s chambers, crying to be let in. We closed in on them, kicking and swinging our weapons at anyone who tried to stop us.

“High Bishop! High Bishop! Please open the door!”

“Out of the way!”

Eckhart started slicing through the door, showing no restraint for the grays clinging to it. I stepped closer and kicked them aside.

“Eckhart, do not damage the inside of the room!”

My knight twitched, then swung his sword several more times. The attacks seemed considerably lighter than before but still made short work of the door, which clattered to the floor in pieces.

We passed through the now-empty doorway to find only blue- and gray-robed priests. Immanuel was nowhere to be seen. Most of them panicked when they saw us, but one blue priest stood calm and still.

“Where is Immanuel?” I asked.

“There,” the man answered, indicating a locked door within the chambers. He explained that the room beyond it contained many objects usable only by the Sovereign High Bishop.

“If that is where the medals are stored, I may need to open it by force...”

“The door is enchanted, and Sovereign High Bishops have used it for generations; I would rather you not destroy it. No one here has the know-how to repair it, and it would cause no end of problems if the valuables inside the room were destroyed. I can simply draw Brother Immanuel out, so please, stay your hand a moment.”

Perhaps the priest was right and the room really was magical. In such a case, destroying the door would make everything inside disappear. I could not say what that would mean for the medals we were seeking.

“How do you intend to draw him out?” Anastasius asked.

“If you remove all the other priests from these chambers, I can inform Brother Immanuel that the intruders have been detained.”

This priest intrigued me. He did not falter even when speaking to a prince and displayed a stronger will than I would expect from a temple attendant. Even more curiously than that, he did not seem loyal to Immanuel.

“And what is your name?” I asked.

“Curtiss. I am an attendant assigned to the High Bishop’s chambers. I previously served Brother Relichion.”

Immanuel must have eliminated Relichion and taken over as the High Bishop. Curtiss was here only during the handover period and did not recognize Immanuel as his new charge.

“See to it, then.”

Anastasius’s guard captured the other priests in the High Bishop’s chambers, silenced them, and then removed them from the room to prevent them from interfering. We moved out of sight of the locked door and waited as Curtiss lured out our target.

“Brother Immanuel, the intruders have been detained,” he said. “I would appreciate your input on how we should punish them.”

“Hmph. It is my duty to punish heretics...” came an arrogant-sounding voice. The door opened, and out strode Immanuel. He made it barely a few steps before I bound him with bands of light and took the key to the storeroom from his hand.

“Hartmut,” I said, “retrieve everything in this man’s possession, from his keys to his bible. Do not be deceived by any fakes.”

“I swear on my honor as the High Priest of Ehrenfest.”

“Aah, that reminds me. After interrogating Blasius, Justus reported that the Sovereign High Bishop cooperated with Raublut in exchange for Rozemyne being sent to the Sovereign temple. Find out what he intended to do with her. And remember to use a magic circle; we do not want him dying on us.”

“But of course.”

Leaving the Sovereign High Bishop to Hartmut, I turned to Curtiss. “Can anyone who holds the key access the storeroom? Is that where the medals are being stored, do you know?”

“Yes, the medals are in there. Blue priests are tasked with putting them in the storeroom after religious ceremonies, but those not registered to the temple cannot enter, and only the Sovereign High Bishop can use the key.”

I gazed down at the key. I needed only register my mana to it, so I overwrote its previous owner and did just that. Then I opened the storeroom.

“That is not a problem,” I said. “Guide me.”

Curtiss led me to where the medals were stored—a few sizable shelves stacked with various articles. Sitting atop them were large medal storage boxes just like the ones in Ehrenfest’s temple. Finding them on my own would not have been easy.

“These boxes are for commoners, and these are for people with unknown affiliations,” Curtiss said. “Brother Relichion once told me they were only to be moved at the royal family’s request, but Brother Immanuel took some out the other day. As you have a prince with you now, I would appreciate you returning them to their proper location.”

Curtiss indicated two flat boxes separate from the boxes for commoners, each containing a white medal. I snatched up a nearby tool and checked to whom they belonged. One was unmistakably Gervasio’s, while the other was Chiaffredo’s.

“I see...” the priest mused aloud. “Nobles can use that magic tool to view information about the medals. I was not aware. Aah, please put the medals in this if you intend to take them with you.”

Curtiss held out a small box, into which I placed both medals. I was about to hurry out of the storeroom when I spotted the High Bishop’s bible.

“So the bible is kept here as well,” I said. “Curtiss, where is the key?”

The priest went pale. “Um... That bible is passed down from one Sovereign High Bishop to the next, and...” He did not want me to take the book outside the storeroom, as expected of a man in his role.

“I am aware. Once everything is over, I intend to return the bible to the Sovereign High Bishop—not that you need to believe me. Now tell me where to find the key. I do not have time to waste, so speak quickly unless you wish to experience true pain.”

“I shall choose to believe you,” Curtiss replied at length. “The key is here.”

The priest claimed to have put his faith in me, but he could not have seemed more reluctant as he handed me the key. I registered my mana to it, opened the bible, and confirmed it was genuine. Then I exited the storeroom.

Back in the High Bishop’s chambers, I saw Hartmut grinning as a bloodied Immanuel screamed in agony. Anastasius and his guards were doing their best not to look. The prince rushed over the moment he spotted me.

“Ferdinand, stop him! He’s done far more than was necessary!”

I grimaced. This must have been the prince’s first time witnessing an interrogation. We did not have leeway to start bothering Hartmut, but alas...

“You will need a focused mind to perform your next task, so I suppose I must intervene. But in return for stopping Hartmut, I must ask that you keep assisting me.”

“Have I not done enough already?”

I said that only as a courtesy. You will not escape me in any case.

“Hartmut, leave the rest for later,” I said. “Discuss the coronation of the new Zent and the dedication whirling with Curtiss.”

“Lady Rozemyne’s whirling?” Hartmut asked.

“Indeed. The Divine Avatar of Mestionora is going to bestow the Grutrissheit upon a new Zent. You will need to communicate with the Sovereign temple if you are to oversee such a crucial ceremony.”

“How splendid! Praise be to the gods!”

Hartmut stood up and prayed, kicking Immanuel away in the process. Curtiss recoiled, so I gave him an encouraging nudge toward the overeager fanatic. I also instructed Heisshitze to give Immanuel a rejuvenation potion—the High Bishop’s groans were much too distracting—and told Eckhart to perform a waschen to clean away the blood.

Content that our sensitive prince had nothing more to complain about, I removed Gervasio’s medal from its box. “Now then, Prince Anastasius... If you would.”

“Oh, I almost forgot to mention—an ordonnanz from Mergitor arrived while you were in that room. Gilessenmeyer inquired about their country gate.”

In other words, Gervasio had already begun supplying his gate. He had plenty of mana, so who knew how quickly he would finish? I made a more deliberate attempt to give Anastasius the medal.

“Prince Anastasius—you must destroy this medal at once.”

“What?! You want me to do it?!”

“Of course. Medals belonging to the Sovereignty can be destroyed only by members of the royal family. That is why I brought you.”

Just as only Ehrenfest’s archducal family could use Ehrenfest medals, only royals could use medals belonging to the Sovereignty. Had that requirement not existed, I would have broken Gervasio’s immediately upon finding it.

“Still, the spell and magic circle for destroying medals...” Anastasius muttered, searching for an excuse. He could easily have requested my assistance, but he fell silent, not even attempting to take the medal from me.

Infuriated, I drew the spell and magic circle on some fey paper, which I then thrust into the prince’s hands with the white medal. “Gods above! Just fill the circle with mana and say the words to the spell already! The goddess has ordered that no lives be taken, so we must act while Gervasio is in Gilessenmeyer. Do not hesitate to eliminate those who would steal the throne from the royal family!”

Anastasius recoiled, then accepted the paper and medal. He moved far enough away from his guards that they would not hear the spell, then took out his schtappe.

“Prince Anastasius,” I said, “please make sure I can see the medal. Hide your mouth and speak quietly when reciting the spell.”

He glared at me, then swung his schtappe. Wavering black flames appeared above the magic circle. Anastasius gazed into them, raised a hand to cover his mouth, and chanted the spell as instructed. Then he tossed the white medal onto the circle.

I wonder, will it burn from the outside in? Or will it crack first and then burn?

One curious fact omitted from the Royal Academy’s curriculum was that medals burned differently when their owner was in the same duchy. I watched closely to see how Gervasio’s would change. It cracked into several pieces, then turned to gray ash and disappeared.

I win, Gervasio!

Without even thinking, I balled my hands into tight, victorious fists. I could feel the grin spreading across my face. No matter how vast his mana capacity was, Gervasio would not stand a chance against me now that he no longer had a schtappe and was trapped inside Gilessenmeyer’s country gate.

“Lord Ferdinand, can I assume we were quick enough?” Eckhart asked.

I slowly looked around the room. Anastasius had completed the spell and now waited impatiently for my next words, as did those with him. I nodded at Eckhart, then made my announcement: “Gervasio’s medal has been destroyed. He can no longer become the Zent. We are victorious.”

His plans would never come to pass. He could no longer demand that Ahrensbach’s foundation be returned, that Rozemyne be sent to the Sovereign temple, that his accomplices go unpunished, that Detlinde and Leonzio be set free, or that I be sent to Lanzenave as a feystone.

“This concludes our business in the Sovereign temple,” I said. “Immanuel must be detained as a criminal, but the other priests can be left to their own devices. Let us return to the auditorium and arrange a meeting with the royal family.”

My battle against Gervasio, my most dangerous foe, was over. But I would not secure the future I desired simply by standing around and enjoying my victory. Meeting with the royals, choosing the new Zent, having Erwaermen grant his approval... There was still much to be done, so I changed my focus from defeating my opposition to twisting the upcoming meeting in my favor.