Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume 5.11 - Chapter SS1

Vows and the Garden of Beginnings

“Eglantine, I implore you to reconsider!” Anastasius exclaimed. “Are you truly comfortable with your choice? The nobles of other duchies have yet to be informed; if you’ve changed your mind, now is your only chance to say so.”

We had just concluded a meeting in the Ehrenfest Dormitory and were now back in our villa. Anastasius held my hand and spoke in a low, almost threatening voice, but his eyes betrayed nothing but concern for me. Even if my resolve to become the next Zent crumbled, he would go to any length to protect me.

“You don’t wish to take the throne, do you?” my husband continued. “You were openly against the idea both when we were engaged and when we ordered Rozemyne to circle the shrines.” He must have thought I had suddenly changed my tune—or that I had been lying to him from the start.

I took his hand in both of mine. “Before now, avoiding the throne was the best way to prevent another war.”

Striving to rule Yurgenschmidt would have violated the promise we made to cede the throne to Prince Sigiswald. Tensions between Klassenberg and Drewanchel would have risen, as the former would have wanted me to become the Zent, and the latter had agreed to marry Lady Adolphine to the first prince because he was in place to take the throne.

“We had other options back then,” I stressed. “Of course I opted for them.”

In terms of obtaining the Grutrissheit, Lady Rozemyne was already far ahead of me. I wanted nothing more than to preserve the peace, and in that regard, it had made the most sense to adopt her into the royal family and secure the holy book through her. If we had arranged a marriage between her and the next Zent—at the time, Prince Sigiswald—then the entire situation would have been neatly resolved.

“That side of you is why Rozemyne accused the royal family of taking someone dear to her hostage,” Anastasius said.

“Oh my. But any noble would behave in such a way, not just a royal. Is it really so uncommon to exploit another’s weakness to guarantee their cooperation? Lady Rozemyne took the same approach with us.”

“Eglantine...” my husband said, a bitter expression forming on his face.

Anastasius’s reaction intrigued me. There were plenty of examples one could turn to, and my very own love life was among them. Aub Klassenberg and my grandfather had forced me to choose between Prince Sigiswald and my current husband, refusing me the opportunity to even consider other men. Their actions had denied me any chance of escape.

And yet Lady Rozemyne fought tooth and nail to escape her predicament. Most admirable.

Before her adoption, she had obtained the Book of Mestionora and claimed another duchy to save Lord Ferdinand, thereby ensuring she would not become the Zent. She had even acquired more status than our family by becoming the avatar of a goddess before she was due to give me the Grutrissheit.

I regret only that nobody else in the royal family was resolved and capable enough to accept it.

King Trauerqual had refused the Grutrissheit on the grounds of his performance during the recent war. Anastasius had lacked the elements to wield it. And as for Prince Sigiswald, he had refused to swear loyalty to Lady Rozemyne.

“Despite having the power to eliminate us, Lady Rozemyne and Lord Ferdinand resisted their impulses, saved our lives, and went on to forge the most peaceful path for Yurgenschmidt’s future. We had no choice in the matter—not when our daughter was on the line—but I take no issue with preventing another war.”

Anastasius’s eyes widened. I cocked my head in response. Were my words really so shocking to him?

“My views have not changed,” I said, “merely my situation. My thoughts, feelings, and the things I aspire to—everything about me is the same. I have simply decided that becoming the Zent will resolve this situation more peacefully than anything else.”

“I see...” Anastasius muttered, calmer than before. He sensed that he would not be able to stop me and gave a defeated smile.

“They might have paved this path for me, but I tread it of my own volition,” I continued. “Though... it still makes me anxious, I must admit.”

I released Anastasius’s hand. No matter how much he decried it, I would take the throne—both to protect our daughter and to prevent another war from tearing through Yurgenschmidt. I could not think of a better solution.

“And what are your thoughts on the matter?” I asked. “Am I, um... not as you remember me?”

Before I could even emphasize that this was his only chance to divorce me, he took my hand and squeezed it tight. “I, too, remain the same. I will do whatever it takes—give up whatever I must—to remain your husband. I shall dance to their tune just to be beside you.” He raised a teasing eyebrow. “No matter how much it might frustrate me.”

I could not help but laugh. His wry remark reminded me how much he had complained about Lord Ferdinand making him complete all manner of tasks despite his status as a royal.

“You will soon be married to the Zent,” I said. “Your struggles will continue for some time.”

We gazed into each other’s eyes and then laughed together. It put me at ease to know I would not be marching down this path alone.

“Anastasius, I wish to become a Zent who does everything in her power to prevent war—who stands in opposition to the pain and death it causes.”

I approached the transference ceremony with that resolve, but what on earth is going on here?

The situation was beyond any of our expectations. Lady Rozemyne had disappeared upon completing her dedication whirl. She had not beat a hasty retreat—she had quite literally vanished into thin air.

Lord Ferdinand, while hidden from view, had instructed me to perform a dedication whirl of my own. My heart pounded at the thought of the shrine not opening for me, but the statues eventually moved aside to create a path. I ascended toward it, acting as though this were all part of our plan, and soon arrived at the Garden of Beginnings.

Inside this vast expanse of white—the same place where I had obtained my schtappe—I found Lady Rozemyne writhing on the ground, resisting some unseen force while Lord Ferdinand attempted to restrain her. She twisted and kicked her legs, letting her skirt slide up to her knees.

“It hurts... Gaaah!”

“I understand, but you must stay still.”

We were lucky to have found Lady Rozemyne, but I was too stunned to feel relieved. It looked entirely like Lord Ferdinand was enacting some crude violence upon her. The unexpected scene made my head spin.

There... There must be an explanation for this.

“Um, Lord Ferdinand, Lady Rozemyne... Was this really worth interrupting the transference ceremony?” I asked timidly.

Lord Ferdinand, seemingly at his wits’ end, asked me to assist him in removing Lady Rozemyne’s charms. She was on the brink of death, he explained, and the only way to save her was to allow Mestionora back into her body.

Excuse me?! This is all too sudden!

I was glad to know Lord Ferdinand had not given in to desire, but the truth was even more harrowing. I had just given Lady Rozemyne my name; if she ascended to the distant heights, I would be going with her.

“Aah! Hurts...!”

“Lady Rozemyne,” I said, “you must not move your arms around.”

It was hard to remove Lady Rozemyne’s elaborate ornaments when she would not stop squirming and screaming. Each time I pulled up her sleeves, searching for the clasps I would need to undo, she swung her arms and obscured my vision with billowing cloth.

“Could you keep her arm in place?” I asked. “I cannot find the clasp. Take her wrist like this, and...”

“Like this?”

I instructed Lord Ferdinand on how to keep Lady Rozemyne still and eventually managed to remove her ornaments. They were beautiful and covered with tiny rainbow feystones.

No sooner had the ornaments come away—they landed on the ground with a light clatter—than light rained down from above and enveloped Lady Rozemyne like a cocoon. It was nothing like the divine power radiating from her. More than anything else, I was stunned to see that I had not been deceived; a goddess genuinely had descended.

The light surrounding Lady Rozemyne then leisurely ascended into the air. I sighed, taken with the divine sight, while Lord Ferdinand rose to his feet.

“Lady Eglantine, take your distance and kneel,” he said. “The goddess smites those who are insolent.”

Are you speaking from experience?

Now that Gervasio was absent, Lord Ferdinand was the only one who had experienced Mestionora’s previous descent. I took his advice, stepped back, and went down on one knee as he did.

“The original purpose of the Zent was to mediate between mankind and the gods,” Ferdinand informed me. “Take care not to be overly obedient. Do not make undue promises that will distort society as we know it.”

I swallowed dryly. In my mind, the Zent was simply the person who ruled Yurgenschmidt; their purpose was to balance the needs and wishes of each duchy while providing the entire country with mana. The desires of the gods had never factored into it.

That must be even more lost knowledge.

Only a Zent with the Grutrissheit could carry out their purpose—that was something I would need to remember. By receiving the holy book from Mestionora’s divine avatar, I would accept the burdens of the throne until the day came for me to pass the torch on to a new generation of Zent candidates, who would obtain their Books of Mestionora through their own power.

The ways of the gods and the ways of men... Two cultures, worlds apart.

There was so little that I understood. I was studying the ancient language, but my knowledge of the deities was mediocre at best; some things had to be seen to be believed. Considering that I would soon become the Zent, it was perhaps a blessing that I was here to witness the descent of the goddess.

“Quinta, what have you done to Erwaermen?” Mestionora asked immediately upon taking Lady Rozemyne’s form.

Erwaermen? From what I remember, he was a subordinate of Ewigeliebe who earned the God of Life’s ire for protecting Mestionora and Geduldh’s subordinates. Was he the former god who became Yurgenschmidt’s core? And who is Quinta...?

I searched my memories as best I could, unable to hide my shock that a name I had encountered only in lectures and old books had come up so naturally in conversation. Judging by the anger in Mestionora’s voice, Lord Ferdinand must have done something to Erwaermen. I continued to kneel, holding my breath and staring intently at the white ground while I awaited his response.

“First, tell me what the gods have done to Rozemyne,” Lord Ferdinand said. “How convenient that only the descent of a goddess could keep her from the distant heights.”

That is not how you answer a goddess!

I stared quizzically at the pair. Lord Ferdinand was still on one knee, but he raised his head and glared into Mestionora’s eyes.

“Goodness,” she replied. “As insolent as ever, I see. It is such a terrible shame that Terza never returned. He was far better suited to becoming a Zent than you or Myne.” She was not even attempting to hide the regret in her voice.

I furrowed my brow. The goddess had mentioned even more names that were unknown to me, but one did not need expert powers of deduction to realize she meant Lord Ferdinand, Lady Rozemyne, and Lord Gervasio.

I wonder why they have secondary names. Is one given a special title upon receiving the Book of Mestionora?

Unsure what to think, I could only stay silent as the debate between man and goddess continued.

“The moment I arrived,” Lord Ferdinand said, “I was informed that Rozemyne was on the verge of succumbing to the gods’ power and that I would need to remove her charms to save her. I do not consider it ‘insolent’ to ask how she ended up in such peril to begin with.”

He spoke politely and continued to kneel, but that did not change the fact he was arguing with the Goddess of Wisdom. I grew dizzy as I pondered whether this counted as sacrilege.

“You would take that tone despite knowing how easily I could dispatch you?”

“Would it really be so easy? Rozemyne wished for my survival and lent you her body at the cost of her most precious memories. Taking my life while using her form would violate a promise made between gods and men.”

There were many stories about the breaking of such promises. In each one, the culprit was punished, be they man or god.

I raised my head just enough to see how the goddess would respond. Though she had taken Lady Rozemyne’s form, one could tell at a glance that she was not the same person. She levitated in place, for a start, and exuded the most spectacular light. Her eyes were a brighter gold than those of her host, and simply witnessing their ferocity compelled me to submit. I could not risk meeting her gaze, so I returned to facing the ground.

“How irritating... And if we put Myne’s life on the scales instead? She is important to you, is she not?”

“Rozemyne is too important for the gods to lose. The lives of everyone in Yurgenschmidt capable of reaching the foundation are bound to her.” Lord Ferdinand wore a smile even in the face of a threat from a goddess. He had given his name to Lady Rozemyne—and urged me to do the same—for leverage against the gods. “Moreover, while the gods seem to think Gervasio was suited to becoming the Zent, no one poses a greater threat to Erwaermen and Yurgenschmidt.”

“Oh? I refuse to believe there is anyone more dangerous than you.”

I wanted to concur; Anastasius had told me about the recent battle, and we had both been present for Lady Rozemyne’s meeting with the royal family.

Lord Ferdinand did not even wince at the claim. “It was Gervasio who supplied Yurgenschmidt with this silver weaponry and the poison paralyzing Erwaermen—tools that have already claimed dozens of nobles’ lives. I dread to imagine what he might have done to this country had he not been taken out of the picture.”

“I forbade men from taking each other’s lives.”

“The tools themselves hold no malice. One could devise a way for them to activate simply by being touched, harming or killing someone by accident or through the actions of others.” He had gotten Anastasius to destroy Gervasio’s medal, denying the latter his schtappe and the future he desired, so I could imagine him stooping to such dupery as well.

“Furthermore,” Lord Ferdinand continued, “you did not forbid attacks on Erwaermen.”

“It is beyond mere mortals to harm him.”

“Not with the weaponry Gervasio provided.” Lord Ferdinand swept a hand through the air and threw a silver knife.

I took a sharp breath and instinctively looked up to follow the blade with my eyes. Only then did I notice the large ivory man standing completely immobile. Since coming to the Garden of Beginnings, I had been too focused on Lady Rozemyne’s anguish and then the descent of a genuine goddess.

“Erwaermen!” Mestionora cried. Thick yellow light shot from her fingertips, but it was no use—the blade passed straight through the goddess’s defenses, tore through some of Erwaermen’s white tresses, and then continued its arc before stabbing into the ground. No sooner had the hairs been severed than they turned into branches, which landed with a clatter.

He really is a tree in human form...

I stared at the fallen branches, feeling entirely out of place. It was far, far beyond me to mediate this dispute. I shrank down and held my breath, desperate not to be drawn into the fray.

“QUINTA!”

“Tell me what the gods did to Rozemyne, how to fully remove the sway of her divine power, and what means other than channeling mana into her will restore her lost memories,” Lord Ferdinand demanded. “In return, I will give Erwaermen the antidote for the poison keeping him frozen.”

Mestionora was forced to nod. “I would rather you not approach Erwaermen ever again, Quinta. Give me the antidote.”

“Not before you provide the information I seek.”

After yet another glaring contest with her rival, Mestionora pointed at me. “Then have Eglantine administer the antidote while I explain.” My attempt to remain hidden had been in vain, but I was more surprised that she knew my name.

Lord Ferdinand approached and placed a small sweet in my hand. “Here. Put this in your mouth before you do anything else. It will protect you from the instant-death poison on Erwaermen.”

From what?!

By this point, I was forced to agree with Mestionora: there was no one more dangerous than Lord Ferdinand. He had used instant-death poison on Erwaermen, the very core of Yurgenschmidt. There was no being more divine or more important to our country’s future.

I was still dazed when Lord Ferdinand gave me a second antidote, this time in the form of a small potion. He explained how to use it and the small sweet.

“First, spray the liquid potion on Erwaermen’s hands. Once he is able to move them, have him drink the rest. I do not know how touching the divine power of the gods would impact you.”

Feeling tense, I accepted the antidote and stood.

Lord Ferdinand and the goddess continued their back-and-forth while I moved closer to Erwaermen. As it turned out, the gods had mistakenly believed that Lady Rozemyne’s charms made to prevent Mestionora’s descent also obstructed the gods’ blessings. They had gone all out in an attempt to break through them, overwhelming Lady Rozemyne with more divine power than a mortal body could contain.

Because she was still dyed with Mestionora’s mana from the goddess’s previous descent, Lady Rozemyne soon found the gods’ blessings violently rebounding within her. To remove the sway of that divine power, she would need to be almost entirely drained of divine mana and then redyed with human mana.

Does the goddess truly want Lord Ferdinand to drain Lady Rozemyne’s mana and then dye her with his own? Is she demanding them to put winter before autumn?

It was a troublesome predicament for an underage, unmarried woman to be thrown into, though I supposed the circumstances would not allow for anything untoward. Not to mention, it was clear to everyone who beheld them that Lord Ferdinand and Lady Rozemyne’s union was founded in love, not political necessity. If we kept it to ourselves, I suspected no one would mind winter arriving a tad earlier than expected.

Still, to think a goddess’s descent would have such severe repercussions.

Many nobles had come to envy Lady Rozemyne for her holy appearance and the divine favor that she and she alone received. Only now was the price of those blessings clear to me.

“If you would excuse me,” I said, looking up at Erwaermen. “I must spray this potion on your hands.”

The last time I visited this garden, a tall ivory tree had stood where this man remained motionless. He somewhat resembled my grandfather on my father’s side—the previous Zent—so I felt strangely close to him.

I sprayed the antidote on Erwaermen’s hands, which slowly started to move again. “It would do you well to drink the rest,” I said, depositing the potion in his hand.

Erwaermen did as instructed, and the rest of his paralysis faded. “Hmm... Indeed, I can move again. I am shocked that Quinta came here with such dangerous weapons.”

“It was Gervasio who brought them into Yurgenschmidt,” I reported. “He used the poison on Ahrensbach and Sovereign nobles. But rather than paralyze them, it turned them into feystones in an instant.”

We had encountered the same poison in the palace and the Royal Academy’s auditorium. It had not taken us by surprise—we had prepared ourselves, even—but some of our own had perished to it nonetheless. Lord Ferdinand obtained the weapons during our battle for the Academy but had not even attempted to use them before now. It was only natural that we Yurgenschmidt nobles felt wary of the Lanzenavians, who had resorted to such lethal means without hesitation.

“I agree that it was dangerous—psychotic, even—for Lord Ferdinand to use instant-death poison against you, but he is right that we could not allow Gervasio to become the Zent. Yurgenschmidt would have seen chaos and war on an unprecedented scale.”

“So those are the circumstances of the world of men...” Erwaermen said. He sighed, then seemed to realize something and quietly asked, “Eglantine, for what purpose have you come here?”

“I received the Grutrissheit from Lady Rozemyne and will soon be crowned the new Zent. My apologies for not mentioning it sooner. I shall restore the bridge that once connected mankind to the gods.”

“How can you claim to be the Zent when you lack the Book of Mestionora? You have neither the mana nor the prayer to be worthy of the role.”

Come again? I am unworthy?

Lord Ferdinand had led me to believe that anyone who received the Grutrissheit from Lady Rozemyne would be recognized as the new Zent. The gods appeared to disagree. I turned to him at once, hoping for an explanation; he had since finished speaking with Mestionora and approached me. The goddess floated leisurely through the air before sitting above Erwaermen’s shoulder.

“Lady Eglantine is a necessary intermediary for us,” Lord Ferdinand declared. “As we discussed before, Zents from the next generation onward will once again be chosen from among those who obtain the Book of Mestionora themselves. She will rule Yurgenschmidt with a Grutrissheit—or a magic tool of one, at least.”

“Goodness, an artificial Grutrissheit?” Mestionora asked, her tone chastising. “You would repeat the errors of Albsenti?”

I shrank back on instinct. In the presence of a goddess, with my understanding of how the Grutrissheit had come to be inherited, I was intolerably ashamed to be a member of the royal family.

Lord Ferdinand shook his head. “This magic tool was made in such a way that it cannot be passed down. The next Zent will obtain the Book of Mestionora through their own power; we need only buy enough time for the next generation to be raised.”

“The world of men is always so troublesome,” Mestionora said.

Lord Ferdinand picked up something wrapped in silver cloth, then removed the magic rope and sealing feystones that were keeping the cover in place. He took out a sizable bracelet decorated with a large feystone.

“Lady Eglantine,” he said, “please put your hand through this and register your mana with it.”

Registering my mana with the bracelet and casting the appropriate spell would make the Grutrissheit appear in my hands. I could not believe the technological savvy of Zent Albsenti, the inventor of the tool, or Lord Ferdinand, who had made it anew. Their talents were almost inhuman.

“How curious...” I said. “If you were this capable, Lord Ferdinand, then why did you not strive to take the throne?”

“For the same reason you avoided it, despite being the only member of the royal family who could enter the shrines.”

He did not wish to become a seed of war.

“That is agreeable,” I said. “We each have our own circumstances. No matter how extraordinary someone might be, I understand that some things are simply beyond the control of a single person.”

“Eglantine. Do you really agree with Quinta?” Mestionora asked, almost unable to believe her ears. “Is the world of men truly as he says?”

I stood up straight. Lord Ferdinand had warned me of the vast chasm that separated the worlds of men and the gods. He likely stood against Erwaermen and Mestionora because neither one of them understood our perspective as humans.

“My life so far has taught me the value of peace,” I said. “For the sake of avoiding another war, I consider the path Lord Ferdinand proposes more reliable than any other. His methods for obtaining what he desires might stand out for their intensity, but the future he seeks is one of stability.”

“In your opinion as a human, is his path more reasonable than Myne’s?”

I thought about Lady Rozemyne for a moment. Though we had not spent much time together, many aspects of her mindset stood out to me.

“Lady Rozemyne does not enjoy war, but she is intensely self-centered,” I eventually replied. “Lord Ferdinand and I believe that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. We do what we must to preserve the greater peace. Lady Rozemyne, on the other hand, would go to dangerous lengths to protect those closest to her.”

A normal archduke candidate would not have invaded Ahrensbach and stolen its foundation for the sake of a single man. Considering the balance of power between duchies, the lives of the knights who had fought with her, and the social impact of the invasion, Lady Rozemyne would have minimized the death toll and secured a greater advantage by allowing Lord Ferdinand to perish, accepting reparations from Ahrensbach, and putting the royal family in her debt.

“Even while attending her Royal Academy lessons, Lady Rozemyne spoke of the library city she hoped to build, blind to the fact that her people would not share her obsession with books. She prioritizes her own desires more than the needs of society—mortal or divine—and would, as a result, make a far worse Zent than Lord Ferdinand. If she ever entered politics, those who refused to satisfy her lust would end up being swallowed and destroyed.”

I shot a glance at Lord Ferdinand. By taking advantage of a royal decree, he had secured his place as Lady Rozemyne’s fiancé. I hoped he would remain fully devoted to correcting her mad quest to obtain all that she desired.

Though, as one of her name-sworn, I will always be at the mercy of her whims.

“Eglantine, do you mean you can mediate between mankind and the gods?” Erwaermen asked.

I slowly shook my head, unable to say otherwise. “Because of my education, the ways of the gods have never once crossed my mind. But if preventing war between our worlds is my duty as a Zent, then that is what I shall strive to do.”

“Lady Eglantine, did you forget my warning?” Lord Ferdinand asked with a glare.

I gave him a slight smile. “I appreciate your advice, but I must perform the duties expected of me. No longer am I the wife of a second prince who gave up his claim to the throne. I wish to become not someone who rules for lack of choice and relies on a magic tool but a true Zent recognized by the gods.”

“Though your spirit is admirable,” Erwaermen said, “the words of men cannot be trusted. You lie as easily as you breathe.” He pointed to the sky above, and a beam of golden light came down. “Eglantine, will you repeat your declaration as a vow to the heavens?”

Erwaermen was prompting me to swear an oath to the Goddess of Light and her subordinates. I gave Lord Ferdinand a tired smile—he was openly bitter about the gods’ interference—entered the golden light of my own volition, and then knelt before Erwaermen and the goddess hovering above his shoulder. I refused to let his harsh stare faze me.

“May all the gods be our witnesses.”

I gazed up into the world of the gods, and the golden light seemed to sparkle more intensely. “As it stands, I am reliant on a magic tool, and my mana and prayer are both lacking. I shall do everything I can to remedy these shortcomings and become a true Zent. I hereby swear to circle every shrine, pray to the gods, and obtain my own Book of Mestionora.”

The golden light enveloped me. It seemed to rush into my body and then disappeared.

“I, Mestionora, bear witness to this vow,” the goddess said, her voice more soothing than before. I gazed up and saw she was wearing a gentle smile.

Erwaermen, too, looked more considerate. “The promise is made,” he said. “I wish you luck in fulfilling it.”

I bowed my head lower in response, still kneeling.