As I gazed up at the knights soaring into the sky, growing smaller by the second, I heard a voice behind me snort derisively.
"That was a pointless blessing. What a stupid thing to do."
"
They were still wearing their helmets, so it was hard to tell them apart, but the one standing rigid with anger had to be Shikikoza, and the one trying to hold him back was probably Daumeir. From the sound of their voices, they both seemed quite young. They might have just reached adulthood—or maybe they hadn't yet.
"But it's true, isn't it? When we're already short on mana, wasting it on a blessing for the knights is nothing short of idiotic. Utterly foolish."
Daumeir brushed off Shikikoza's hand, but Shikikoza pointed at me.
"Of course the knights wouldn't lose to something like a Trombe without a blessing, but there's a world of difference between having and not having the favor of Angrif, god of valor. We're short on numbers this time too."
I listened to their argument breaking out in a cold sweat. All I'd done was choose words formal enough to say in front of nobles, wanting to pray for the high priests' success in battle against the giant Trombe. That's all it was—and yet somehow it turned into a blessing all on its own.
The ring had suddenly burst with light, and I was just as startled as anyone. It was a fluke—if I hadn't borrowed the ring from the High Priest, the blessing never would have happened.
...Though I'm pretty sure the High Priest was surprised too.
Shikikoza was grumbling about wasted mana, but I'd noticed the ring's stone draining my magic and stopped in a hurry, so not much was released at all. Just a tiny bit. So the ceremony that followed should be perfectly fine.
"If I caused you any displeasure, I sincerely apologize. I will be more careful going forward."
The knights were nobles. To keep quiet objections from turning into something troublesome, I apologized immediately. All I got back was a single "Hmph" of exhalation, but if that settled the matter, then fine.
"Don't mind what Shikikoza says. When we're outnumbered like this, a blessing that supplements our mana is actually appreciated. ...There, look. It's starting."
Daumeir said this to ease my concerns as he pointed up at the sky. Through the gaps between the trees, I could just make out the knights circling overhead.
I stretched up on my tiptoes, squinting at the knights, wondering how they planned to take down a monster like a Trombe.
"——!"
A shout like a command rang out from the sky. All I could tell was that someone was yelling something, but at that signal, every knight brandished a weapon that gleamed black as darkness.
"What is that?
"No, I'm afraid this is my first time seeing one up close as well, so I have no idea."
Originally, the ritual was supposed to be led by a priest carrying a divine instrument, accompanied by a second priest who could provide magical support—and both of them were to ride behind a knight to reach the site. Fran had said that attendants were never included in a knight escort for such requests.
The members dispatched for this request were: me, to perform the ritual; the High Priest, who would both subjugate the Trombe and provide magical support;
"Apprentice Shrine Maiden, those are weapons blessed by the
I hadn't expected a noble to bother explaining things to me, so I looked up at Daumeir, who was clad head to toe in metal armor, with some surprise. I could only see his mouth through the gap in his helmet, but there didn't seem to be any particular aversion toward me for being a commoner.
"Very few get to witness a knight's battle with their own eyes. You should watch closely."
"Thank you very much."
"They start by thinning its strength with arrows. See that one in the blue cape? That's Lord
Following Daumeir's pointing finger, I could see a knight mounted on a lion, drawing back a bowstring to its limit. The sight of firing a bow from horseback reminded me of Yabusame, the mounted archery demonstrations. The cape rippling in the wind of the upper air was blue.
...The High Priest! Amazing! Hang in there!
I couldn't shout out loud, so I cheered with all my might in my heart.
The bowstring was too far away to see, but from the motion of his arm and the dark arrow that shot forth, I could tell the High Priest had released his shot.
The arrow whistled as it left the bow, splitting into countless thin black shafts in midair, then rained down upon the giant Trombe like a deluge. Wherever the arrows struck, there was a small flash, followed by *boom! boom!* of minor explosions.
But the giant Trombe seemed unfazed by this level of attack, still swinging its branches around in a frenzy.
"It takes considerable mana to split an arrow into that many pieces. And Lord Ferdinand can do it over and over—impressive, isn't he?"
Daumeir seemed to hold the High Priest in very high regard. He said this proudly, then went on to explain in detail just what made the High Picker so remarkable.
As I listened in admiration at how much Daumeir knew, he let out a soft sigh.
"I wish he could return to the knights soon..."
Those words tumbled out almost involuntarily, and I blinked several times. Noticing me looking up at him, Daumeir murmured awkwardly after a strained silence.
"...This is strictly confidential."
"Understood. Strictly confidential."
I'd heard that the High Priest hadn't grown up in the temple, but it turned out he'd actually been a member of the knights. No wonder he and
...A noble gifted in both civil and military affairs—High Priest, you're seriously a jack-of-all-trades.
I wished he'd share a little of that ability with the rest of us. As I thought this, gazing up at him, the High Priest rained arrow after arrow upon the Trombe, his blue cape billowing behind him.
"The effect is showing. Can you see how the Trombe is turning black?"
Just as Daumeir said, I could see small dark spots forming on the Trombe wherever the High Priest's successive volleys struck. The spots, which looked like ink stains, multiplied with every rain of arrows.
"I can see it. ...Ah, the branch—"
As though rotting from those blackened spots, a branch that had been whipping back and forth with tremendous force suddenly snapped off with a crack. The broken piece plummeted to the ground with a heavy thud. Once it landed, the branch glittered and dissolved into nothing.
The giant Trombe desperately extended its remaining healthy branches, trying to swat the knights circling through the air out of the sky, but the knights dodged nimbly and evaded every strike. Conversely, the knights used their dark halberds—axes, spears, and glaives forged together—to slash, sweep, and thrust at the branches, and the blackened areas spread steadily from each wound.
By the time I noticed, the growth of the Trombe's crater had stopped. I'd lost count of how many branches had fallen.
As the number of flailing branches dwindled, the knights slipped past what remained and launched direct attacks on the Trombe's trunk. It was enormous, but black blotches multiplied across every surface. With each blow, the Trombe visibly lost vitality.
"It'll be over soon."
Daumeir murmured this with his eyes slightly narrowed.
I'd been terrified at the prospect of fighting such a monster, but the battle seemed to be wrapping up far faster than expected, and I let out a quiet sigh of relief.
"I was so worried about what would happen fighting a creature like that, but it looks like we've suffered almost no damage on our side. What a relief."
"It happens every year, so even though we're short on numbers, defeat is never a real possibility. Having Lord Ferdinand here this time made clearing the branches especially easy."
Having a priest who could fire off a continuous barrage of arrows made an enormous difference in efficiency. With fewer arrows, the Trombe barely weakened, and several knights got knocked out of the sky by its branches every time, apparently.
"Your apprentice blessing helped too."
"If I was of any use at all, I'm glad to hear it."
His expression was hidden behind his helmet, but Daumeir's voice was kind. When I smiled up at him, I heard a venomous tsk of irritation from behind me. Turning around, I found myself facing the other suit of armor.
"Daumeir, what are you doing getting cozy with a commoner? Don't you know? She's a commoner. A commoner who presumptuously dares to wear blue robes—garments reserved exclusively for nobles. The noble ranks may have thinned, but what in the world was Lord Ferdinand thinking, granting blue robes to a commoner of all people?"
"Shikikoza, what are you—"
Daumeir's flustered voice told me clearly that he hadn't known I was a commoner. The reason he'd so kindly explained things to me must have been because I was a Blue Apprentice Shrine Maiden.
Even though my status as a commoner was common knowledge within the temple, perhaps the nobles among themselves had never been informed.
I quietly put distance between myself and both Shikikoza, who was radiating malice, and Daumeir. I had no idea how nobles would react upon learning I was a commoner. If it turned into another
"Please don't say such ridiculous things."
"I'm speaking the truth. During the Star Binding Ceremony, the High Bishop who visited our household was quite distressed. He said the temple's order was being thrown into chaos by a single commoner."
...So you were the culprit, High Bishop!
I'd banished the High Bishop to a corner of my memory since we never crossed paths anymore and he hadn't directly done anything to me—but apparently he'd been going around badmouthing me to the nobles.
This was bad. Very bad.
As a commoner, I had no right to argue back no matter how much I wanted to, and the High Bishop had surely embellished the story to suit himself, bending and twisting the truth along the way.
When I had to operate alongside a knight order composed entirely of nobles, this kind of malicious rumor was an extremely dangerous enemy.
"Say something, commoner."
"..."
Even if told to say something, I had no idea what to say. Speaking carelessly to a noble could result in anything happening to me on the spot.
But simply remaining silent also seemed to agitate Shikikoza. Through the gap in his helmet, I could see his mouth twist into a sadistic sneer.
"What's the matter? Without Lord Ferdinand around, you can't even open that insolent mouth of yours?"
"Stop it, Shikikoza! She is a protection target!"
Daumeir stepped in front of me like a shield, placing himself between me and Shikikoza. Until her duty is fulfilled, rank doesn't matter—that was the principle.
But it seemed this only poured oil on Shikikoza's fury.
"Silence, Daumeir! Know your place! Don't you dare give me orders!"
Daumeir, teeth clenched hard, stepped one pace to the side. In the space that opened up, Shikikoza was advancing one step at a time. A huge metal-clad man approaching with pure malice, his armor clanking with every step—there was nothing terrifying in this world quite like it.
...I'm scared.
My legs trembled, and my teeth chattered softly. I wanted to run, but my legs were frozen in place.
Seeing my fear, Shikikoza let out a cackle, clenched the metal-reinforced fingers of his hand into a fist, and raised it.
"
"Out of the way! You're in my path!"
Fran, who had interposed himself to shield me, was shoved hard and sent stumbling back.
"Fran!"
As I instinctively started to rush toward Fran, Shikikoza grabbed my hair with a crushing grip. I heard several strands snap and rip free, and a sharp pain shot through the side of my head.
"Iyee!"
"Myne-sama!"
Arno's stern voice cut in as Fran was getting back on his feet with a quick motion.
"Fran, you mustn't move! It is because you moved that your mistress is being reprimanded. You must not escalate this any further."
Arno scolded Fran sharply.
Watching Fran bite his lip in frustration, Shikikoza's face split into a grin of pure delight. He wrenched my hair by the fistful.
"I'll teach you, commoner. When this happens, you're the one who apologizes for your attendant's rudeness."
While Fran was swallowing his anger, biting his lip to hold back, I couldn't afford to lose control. I'd been told not to argue with nobles, so I would simply have to apologize.
"...My attendant has been extremely rude and disrespectful."
But even the apology seemed to rub Shikikoza the wrong way. I was shoved hard and sent tumbling onto my rear. My backside ached, and my head throbbed, but being released from his grip was at least something.
"What's with that insolent look!? Shall I gouge those eyes out!?"
Shikikoza roared, placing his left hand on the stone set into his gauntlet and producing a faintly glowing baton. Spinning the baton around, he murmured "Messer," and the slender rod transformed into a small knife.
The tip of its razor-sharp blade glinted wickedly.
I swallowed hard at the weapon being brandished at me. Cold sweat ran down my back, and my heart pounded at an unnaturally rapid pace. Paralyzed by fear, unable to even stand, I could only stare at the gleaming blade.
"Shikikoza, you can't do this! She's a protection target—the shrine maiden apprentice performing the ritual!"
Seeing the drawn weapon, Daumeir reached out toward Shikikoza in a panic, but Shikikoza batted aside his warning and his arm alike, raising the knife high.
"Shut up! A little blindness won't hinder the ritual!"
Seeing the knife arcing toward me, still sitting on the ground where I'd fallen, I curled into a ball, clutching my head like a turtle retreating into its shell.
"This is how commoners should cower—small and curled up, fearing and respecting their betters!"
Within my squeezed-shut world of terror, beyond Shikikoza's fury, I heard the sound of feathers beating the air.
Looking up, beyond the armored figure with raised knife, I could see a blue cape high above.
"High Priest!"
Spotting my would-be guardian who could apparently do something about Shikikoza, I scrambled to my feet and cried out for help.
It happened at almost exactly the same moment—I stood up, and Shikikoza, startled by the words "High Priest," tried to hastily retract the knife. The back of my left hand, which I'd been using to shield my head, seared with a hot, sharp pain.
"Ouch!?"
"Don't you dare stand up suddenly, you idiot!"
Lowering my hands from my head, I could see at a glance that the cut was deep—he'd slashed cleanly and with force. It would take a while for the bleeding to stop.
Complaining to a noble would just get me ignored, so at the very least, I rolled up my sleeve to keep the ritual robes from being stained. I extended my left arm straight and used my right hand to hold back the left sleeve.
"Myne-sama, let me get the cloth—"
As if snapped out of his thoughts, Fran plunged his hand into the small waist pouch he wore at his hip. Apparently he was prepared for injuries. Our attendants really were exceptional.
"You're a lifesaver, Fran."
Blood poured freely from the gaping wound, running down toward my wrist and dripping off in heavy drops. The instant the red blood splattered on the ground, the earth churned and heaved.
"...Huh?"
While I stared downward, blood continued to fall, pattering onto the soil. The ground rippled as though something were bubbling up from beneath, and in the blink of an eye—*pop, pop-pop, pop-pop-pop*—Trombe shoots began sprouting everywhere.
"Wha—!?"
The Trombe shoots that sprouted from where my blood had fallen were growing at a rate far faster than any Trombe I'd seen before, rapidly extending toward my legs and wrapping around them.
"Hyah! Stop—!"
I shook my legs frantically, trying to tear free, but the Trombe wound around my limbs like morning glory vines growing at high speed. Before I could clear a single stem, several more had already coiled around my ankles, pinning me in place.
All the while, blood continued to drip from my hand, further activating the Trombe. They kept sprouting around me in an ever-widening circle.
"This—this isn't my fault! It's your fault for standing up so suddenly!"
Shikikoza blurted this out, then retreated from me, hacking at the Trombe with his knife as he went.
"No—!"
The Trombe crept up from my ankles to my knees, from my knees to my thighs. Green shoots extended while whitish stems coiled tighter. As they grew, the base of each stem gradually turned brown, beginning to show the color of wood.
Though it was only bit by bit, the coiling stems were thickening and tightening their grip, while new shoots reached out to ensnare me anew.
"Myne-sama!"
Fran, unarmed, tried to tear the Trombe apart with his bare hands, but the slightly grown branches were too strong to rip by hand alone.
"Apprentice Shrine Maiden!"
Daumeir produced a glowing baton from his left gauntlet. He fed it mana, murmured "Messer," and transformed it into a knife.
Even in those few moments, the Trombe's branches surged forward, wrapping around me ten, twenty layers deep.
"Please wait just a moment until I receive the blessing of the God of Darkness!"
Daumeir began reciting a prayer. It was very similar to the prayers I offered during rituals—words praising the gods and requesting their divine protection. In other words, so long they required practice just to memorize.
The mere thought of how much the Trombe would grow while he was praying made my blood run cold.
...I'm scared!
My teeth chattered uncontrollably.
The image flashed through my mind of a great tree toppled into the Trombe's crater, its lifeforce drained by the roots until it crumbled to nothing.
...Scary! Scary!
Tears welled up from the terror of being ensnared by the Trombe. I waved my hands, trying to drive them back, but every spot where my blood had splattered sprouted yet more shoots.
...Scary! Scary! Scary!
The stems coiled around my thighs crept in the blink of an eye from my waist up to my stomach.
Driven mad by the helplessness of being unable to move, I screamed at the top of my lungs.
"
The subjugation was not over.
On the contrary, new Trombe had emerged.
Next time: rescue and reprimand.