A second-year from Efnel in a knockoff uniform. This promised to be amusing, so Lethe decided to play along. She stood and bowed respectfully. "I didn’t realize we had a senior in this cabin. Please forgive my rudeness."
Ellen, who had been standing confidently with her arms crossed, flinched. "A-A senior... you say?"
"Yes."
Lethe unbuttoned the robe she was wearing and slipped it off. It was an Efnel uniform, the same white top and skirt as Ellen’s, but the luster of the fabric alone set it worlds apart. With the two of them standing side by side, the difference was stark, and Ellen’s uniform suddenly looked incredibly shoddy. "I am a first-year at Efnel, Lethe Shardena," Lethe announced coolly. "Admitted as Selection Number One."
Ellen’s face turned deathly pale. The girls who had been giggling behind her fell silent. "Is something wrong?" Lethe asked, slowly lifting only her head from her polite bow. The corners of her mouth were turned up in a predatory smile. "You look unwell."
"Ah, n-n-nothing! Nothing at all! Hohoho!"
The real deal had appeared. Ellen never imagined an active Efnel student would be on this train, let alone the top-ranked first-year. Breaking into a cold sweat, she glanced back for help, but the other girls had already vanished. "Ellen Zile? Ellen Zile..." Lethe furrowed her brow, feigning contemplation. "I must apologize for my ignorance, but I’ve never heard that name before. Might I ask what your major is?"
"I-I’m majoring in Divinity Dynamics! Ah, no, I mean, that’s my major! Hoho!"
"Ah, I see." Lethe clapped her hands together, her eyes crinkling in a gentle smile. Ellen swallowed hard and forced a smile of her own. ‘Maybe she’ll let this slide? If I can just get through this, I’ll get off at the next station...’
"What a coincidence." Lethe pulled a communication crystal from her pocket. "I was just about to report to my supervising professor. Since you’re a Divinity Dynamics major, you must know Professor Rahl, right?"
"P-Professor Rahl...!"
"Would you like to say hello?"
Beads of sweat dripped from Ellen’s forehead to the floor. If Professor Rahl saw her in this knockoff uniform, it would truly be the end. As she stood there, stammering incoherently, Letha nodded as if she understood everything and put the communication crystal down. "Impersonating an Efnel student." Lethe’s voice turned to ice. "Do you have any idea what a serious crime that is?"
Meanwhile, Simon was on his way back from the bathroom. ‘Wow, it’s amazing. How can there be a bathroom inside a train? How do they dispose of the waste?’ Lost in thought, he belatedly sensed the strange atmosphere. The once-boisterous first-class cabin was now shrouded in a heavy silence. ‘They were so loud before. Are they all asleep?’
Puzzled, he returned to compartment A2.
"Huh?"
A bewildering scene unfolded before him. Lethe was sitting with her legs crossed, swirling a wine glass. Next to her, a girl in an identical Efnel uniform was kneeling on the floor, hands raised high in the air. "Arms straight! Press them against your ears!" Lethe snapped. The girl flinched and shot her arms straight up. "And get off your heels. Hips up. Knees bent," Lethe commanded. "There. Hold that position if you don’t want to die."
Watching the girl tremble under the punishment, Simon thought she looked incredibly familiar. "You’re back," Lethe said nonchalantly, spotting him. Ellen, who had been hanging her head in shame at the arrival of a third person, timidly shifted her eyes to look at Simon. "Oh?"
Her pupils began to tremble violently. "Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh?"
A person who should absolutely not be here was standing right in front of her. The shock was so great that her posture collapsed. Simon recognized her, too, and offered a wry smile and a wave. "Long time no see, Ellen."
--- Ellen Zile. The priestess from Efnel, who he had met during his first mission after entering Kizen. Her true identity was simply that of an expelled student. To earn money to feed her younger siblings, she had come all the way to the Dark Alliance through a broker, which was when she had crossed paths with Simon. "You’re still doing that?" Simon asked, gesturing to her fake uniform. Her face flushed crimson. "I-I’m sorry," she whispered. "I was going to stop after that day... but the difference in pay between working as an Efnel priestess and a regular one is just..."
"This is a complete mess," Lethe said coldly after hearing the whole story. She double-checked that the sound-blocking magic circle she had just drawn on the wall was working properly before returning to her seat. "Beyond impersonating an Efnel student, you used that fake identity to work in the Dark Alliance? Are you insane?"
As Ellen hung her head, Lethe continued, "I was going to treat you as a senior since you once attended Efnel, but you’re just a common criminal. I’m contacting the Sky Island right now and calling the inspectors."
"N-No, you can’t!" Ellen pleaded, grabbing onto Lethe’s leg. "Ugh! Let go of me!"
"If they catch me, I might actually die! And if I die, my siblings...!"
"If you were truly thinking of your siblings, you wouldn’t have done such a thing in the first place!" Lethe coldly shook off Ellen, who was clinging to her leg like a leech. "And don’t worry if you die or get thrown in prison. I’ll take responsibility for your siblings and make sure they’re sent to a proper monastery."
"N-No! Please!"
No matter how much Ellen begged through her tears, Lethe was an unmovable wall. Seeing no sign of forgiveness, Ellen’s desperate gaze shifted to Simon. "S-Simon! Please help me!"
"It’s no use clinging to him," Lethe scoffed. "This is the Holy Federation. What power does he have...?"
"Don’t worry, Ellen." Simon patted her shoulder. "Lethe won’t send you to prison."
"Simon...!" Ellen’s eyes welled up with grateful tears. Lethe burst out laughing. "How absurd. Who are you to say something like that?"
"Because Lethe has also committed a crime," Simon said calmly. "She’s the one who brought me here."
"Hey! You crazy bastard!" Lethe shrieked, grabbing Simon by the collar. "Do you want to die?! Why would you say that?!"
Simon just smiled. From his perspective, it would be a disaster if Ellen were caught. If his name were to come out during an interrogation, his identity would be exposed. Having quickly assessed the situation, Ellen’s face brightened, and she clapped her hands. "Oh! So we’re all in this together now!"
"Hmph...!" Lethe irritably released Simon’s collar and flopped onto the bed, glaring at him. "...I’ll remember this."
"My apologies," Simon said. "But it’s true that we’d be in trouble if Ellen, who knows my identity, gets caught. I don’t think we need to take that risk."
"That’s true, but I didn’t want to get tangled up with this... senior... in such a way."
"Don’t worry. Ellen is tight-lipped." He glanced at Ellen. "Right?"
She nodded her head repeatedly with a look of utmost loyalty. Lethe frowned, clearly displeased. "By the way," she drawled, "who told you to put your hands down?"
At her words, Ellen immediately became an obedient lamb and shot both arms back into the air. Afterward, the three of them talked in the same compartment. Ellen explained she was on her way to a new job, and since her destination was farther than theirs, it seemed she would be with them for the entire journey.
Her seven siblings, she added, were doing well. "But it’s strange," Lethe mused. "How did you get past the Heretic Inquisitors on the train while wearing that knockoff uniform?"
Ellen laughed sheepishly. "Well, I am a certified priestess! I just told them this outfit was a costume. Aside from looking at me with extreme pity, they let me go."
"Nothing to be proud of." The purpose of the Heretic Inquisitors was to find and judge heretics. A simple case of impersonation wasn’t their responsibility, so they had let it slide. Simon looked at Lethe. "Don’t you think it’s about time you let her put her arms down?"
Two hours had passed, but Lethe was still punishing her senior with a vengeance. It was pitiful to see Ellen’s arms trembling from the strain. "Stay out of it," Lethe snapped. "This is a matter between priests. Considering that an expelled student dared to impersonate someone from Efnel, this is hardly a punishment. It’s child’s play. Right, Senior?"
"Y-Yes! That’s right! Ahahaha!"
Just then, as if a silent alarm had been triggered, Lethe stiffened. "The inquisitors are coming. Ellen, get back to your seat."
At those words, Ellen’s face went white. She bowed to them and scurried back to her own seat. Lethe quickly erased the sound-blocking magic circle on the wall, sat down, and smoothed her hair. A sudden wave of tension washed over Simon, and he pretended to read the holy scripture he had borrowed from Lethe. "Hmm." Lethe tilted her head. "Don’t you think pretending to read that is a bit over the top?"
"I’m going for a fanatical believer concept."
"Ah, right," she deadpanned. "Just don’t get caught."
’Thud. Thud.’
The Heretic Inquisitors appeared. Carrying weapons and torture instruments, they strode down the hallway with a metallic clatter. A dead silence fell over the train. "We will now conduct a brief interrogation," the lead inquisitor announced. "We ask for your cooperation."
Perhaps because this was where priests and their families stayed, their attitude was more polite than that of the inquisitors Simon had seen in the market. He listened intently to the interrogations in the other compartments. They weren’t difficult—mostly common-sense questions. Simon felt confident he could handle this. ‘Thud. Thud.’
Finally, the Heretic Inquisitors stopped in front of their compartment. "We deeply apologize for interrupting your rest." The senior inquisitor, Baccarat, bowed more politely than ever, his gaze fixed on Lethe’s uniform. The other inquisitors behind him also flinched upon seeing her. "I see you boarded at the last station. We must now conduct a brief interrogation. Please forgive our sin in doubting the faith of our own, but it is a required procedure from our superiors. We would be grateful for your cooperation."
Lethe gave a curt nod. "Yeah, yeah. Do whatever you want."
Baccarat asked a few simple questions, and Lethe answered them bluntly, as if wondering why he would ask such trivial things. Even for trick questions, she answered without a moment’s hesitation, cutting to the core of the matter. The inquisitors looked impressed by her solid faith, befitting an Efnel student. "That should be enough for the questions," Baccarat concluded. "Lastly, we will conduct a physical examination."
"Ugh, seriously. What a pain."
"My apologies." Baccarat nodded to his side. A female Heretic Inquisitor stepped forward. "Priestess, please follow me to the changing room."
Lethe, anxious about leaving Simon alone, gritted her teeth. "Seriously, do we have to do this by the book?"
"I’m sorry," the woman said firmly. "Given the recent situation... Please cooperate."
Even an Efnel student couldn’t stop an official interrogation. As she walked away with the female inquisitor, Lethe looked back at Simon with an anxious gaze. He gave a slight nod, as if to say he would be fine. Lethe nodded back and headed to the changing room. "Now, it is your turn, Priest," Baccarat began. "First, you will..."
"Just a moment."
A young Heretic Inquisitor pushed past Baccarat. He strode into the compartment, lifted his leg, and stomped on the desk with a loud bang. "Long time no see."
Simon’s eyes widened. It was Metin, the Heretic Inquisitor from the night market. "You slipped away like a snake last time, didn’t you? Not a chance this time." Metin sniffed the air. "Heh. The stench of Jet-Black. You’re finished. I’m going to expose your true identity right here and now!"
"Metin!" Baccarat placed a hand on his shoulder. "Nothing has been proven yet. Do not be so disrespectful as to conclude he is a heretic without proof..."
Metin brushed Baccarat’s arm away and stared at Simon with a murderous expression. "You. Will die. In this spot."
Just then, as Metin savored the belief that he had his prey cornered, he noticed Simon was smiling. It was a gentle, composed smile without a hint of malice, and it made Metin flinch involuntarily. "It seems the Inquisitor is under some great misunderstanding," Simon said, clasping his hands together and summoning his Divinity. A pleasant, gentle light spread and filled the compartment, drawing small gasps of admiration from the other inquisitors. ‘It’s been a while since I’ve felt Divinity this pure.’
’I feel like my own heart is being cleansed.’
Metin’s expression twisted into a furious scowl. "Now," Simon said with a serene smile, "please ask me anything."
He didn’t know how the man had sensed it, whether by smell or something else. But this time, he had picked the wrong opponent.

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