The inside of the cave grew chaotic.
"The Saintess will be arriving soon!"
"Get ready!"
Agents were running around busily. Hearing the news, Simon stared at the teleportation circle, his expression dazed.
’Is she really... coming to Roc Island?’
"This is no time to be spaced out, Simon." Kajan approached and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Priests can’t be fully trusted. You never know what might happen, so stay sharp."
"Ah, right."
In truth, Kajan’s words weren’t registering. ’What should I say when we meet? What kind of expression should I make?’ The situation was so sudden that his mind went completely blank.
"The teleportation circle on the other side has been activated!"
"Permission to transfer!"
Alistair, the Crow Agent, nodded. "Permission granted."
The teleportation circle, constructed purely of mana, activated, emitting a blue radiance. Simon forced down his nervousness and looked ahead.
’Fwhoooosh!’
The radiance illuminated the cave. After the dazzling light, as bright as a rising sun, subsided, Simon lowered the arm that had been shielding his face and stared forward.
’Ah.’
He couldn’t believe the sight unfolding before his eyes.
Tens of thousands of streams of light shattered, scattering like brilliant fireflies and embroidering the air with a starlit night sky. And in the center of it all, a beautiful girl floated slightly in the air, her eyes closed and her hands clasped together.
Her hair was a shade of ash, darker than pure white, and an enchanting starlight wrapped around her as if to protect her. It was like witnessing mystery itself made manifest.
Her legs, which had been floating in the air, slowly touched the ground, and her arms, held together as if in prayer, gently lowered. Finally, she opened her eyes, revealing brilliant irises the color of molten gold.
The entire room was captivated. No one could move, and no one could utter a sound. Only the intermittent sound of people swallowing nervously echoed in the silence.
And then.
’She really... came.’
Simon thought it was all too surreal. He remembered joking with her once, wondering what it would be like if she went to Kizen, or if he went to Efnel.
And now, that joke had become reality.
Simon’s hand reached out instinctively. "Le—"
A fierce gust of wind tore through the air. In a blur, the girl from the teleportation circle was suddenly standing before him. Her ash-gray hair, which had been swept high, settled slowly onto her shoulders a moment later.
"A pleasure to make your acquaintance," she announced, her voice as quiet as it was frigid. "I am the guardian of the hallowed sanctuary."
Each phrase was delivered with deliberate, chilling precision.
"The closest of the great goddess’s seven daughters," she continued, her words resonating clearly in the cavern. "The Saintess of Stars."
She cut herself off with finality and extended a hand, her face a mask of indifference. "My name is Lethe Shardena."
Her expression was frozen, her eyes holding a profound lack of interest in anyone or anything around her. It was only after meeting that cold, detached gaze that Simon’s composure returned. He had almost treated her like an old friend.
They had to be strangers. Their first meeting had to be right here, right now.
"I-It’s a pleasure to meet you," Simon managed, extending his own hand. "I am Simon Polentia, the Student Council President of Kizen."
But just before their hands could touch, Lethe’s brow furrowed, and she snatched her hand back as if repulsed.
"Ugh," she scoffed. "Let’s just maintain the pretense of courtesy. There’s no need for any actual contact."
"...Ah, of course."
She turned her head away coldly, her gaze falling upon the necromancer agents.
"And I have no desire to speak with some student brat, Student Council President or not. I wish to speak with the person in charge."
A vein throbbed on Simon’s forehead, though he kept a smile fixed on his face. ’She’s a student herself!’ he fumed internally.
Alistair, the agent with the crow insignia, stepped forward. "I am in charge here. You may call me Alistair, Saintess."
As Lethe and Alistair began to converse, a series of teleports brought in the four paladins assigned as her guard.
"More importantly," Lethe interjected, cutting straight to the heart of the matter, "where is she?"
"This way," Alistair said, guiding her deeper into the cave.
After a short walk, they came upon the Saintess of Harvest. She was seated in a chair, a third of her face blown away, revealing a gruesome tableau of exposed gums and teeth.
"Truly... pathetic," Lethe remarked, clicking her tongue in disapproval. "For a senior to be found in such a state... You should be ashamed. Perhaps you should consider passing on your essence to another priest when you return."
Speaking as though the injured Saintess could hear every word, Lethe strode forward and lifted the severed head from the woman’s lap. Several necromancer agents tensed, their hands moving toward their weapons.
"What do you think you’re—!"
"Stand down," Alistair commanded, raising an arm to halt them.
Lethe carefully placed the head back onto the Saintess’s shoulders, aligning it with the jagged edges of her neck.
"Men of Kizen, have you even attempted to remedy this?" she questioned.
"We tried our own methods, of course," Alistair explained. "But she was struck by an Innate Ability that manipulates reality itself..."
"And that is precisely the problem with you people," Lethe retorted. She placed her hands before the Saintess’s face and closed her eyes.
A tidal wave of divinity erupted from her, a blinding explosion in the narrow cave. The surrounding necromancers scrambled back in horror.
"She’s insane!"
"Fall back!"
The entire cavern was bleached white with holy light. An agent grabbed Simon, who was standing frozen in shock, by the scruff of his neck and yanked him to safety.
The ground trembled violently as the divine energy surged. When it finally subsided, Lethe stood with her hands clasped, tilting her head in curiosity.
"Huh. It’s really not working."
"Is that woman mad?!" an agent roared.
"What is this trickery?!" another demanded.
The necromancer agents, nearly engulfed by the blast, reacted with raw hostility, their curse circles flaring to life. With a sharp clang, the paladins drew their swords, forming a protective barrier around Lethe. Divine runes shimmered on their blades as holy magic crackled in the air. The tension was thick enough to shatter.
Yet, Lethe simply lowered her arms, an air of utter nonchalance about her, and let out a cold, mocking sneer.
"How pathetic. A bunch of cowards."
Her unfiltered words made the necromancers’ faces twist in ugly contortions.
"From the start, I found the order to cooperate with necromancers utterly absurd," she declared. "My mission is to ’retrieve the Saintess of Harvest’ and ’annihilate Ever Kyre’."
She reached up and slightly loosened the seal on the choker around her neck, unleashing another surge of her power. Starlight bloomed around her like a deadly flower.
"It would be far quicker to just kill everyone here and find him myself."
The sheer force of her presence, projected by a single person in the heart of enemy territory, was suffocating. Even Simon, who knew her, felt his throat constrict. He was seeing a side of Lethe he never knew existed.
"That’s enough," Alistair finally intervened as the situation threatened to boil over. "This is no time for infighting. We are gathered here to prevent a war. To that end, we must cooperate, regardless of our personal grievances."
He turned to his subordinates. "Stand down."
Only then did the agents reluctantly dispel their magic. The paladins, too, began to sheathe their swords.
"You will keep your swords drawn," Lethe snapped at her guards, her voice like ice. "I wouldn’t trust these disgusting necromancer bastards as far as I could throw them."
With a final glare at her paladins, she strode toward Alistair.
"I will decide my course of action after I’ve heard your plan."
The plan hinged on the night.
Once darkness fell, Lethe could use her sacred authority, Starfall, to detect any trace of divinity across Roc Island. But night was still hours away, and they couldn’t discount the possibility of Ever Kyre making a move before then.
Therefore...
"Here is your identification," Alistair said.
By day, Lethe would disguise herself as a noblewoman and patrol crowded areas. While Starfall was their most potent tool, her innate power allowed her to sense divinity in her immediate vicinity. The necromancer agents would act as her bodyguards. The Dark Festival drew countless high-ranking nobles, so they reasoned a small, well-guarded entourage wouldn’t attract undue attention.
"Honestly," Lethe muttered, emerging from the changing area in a flowing dress, her expression one of profound displeasure. She pulled on a pair of white gloves, looped a gold-trimmed handbag over her arm, and settled a wide-brimmed hat on her head.
"Alright, let’s get this over with," she said, striding forward irritably.
The paladins bowed their heads. "Please be careful, Saintess!"
"Yes, don’t you worry."
Of course, the paladins, unable to conceal their own divinity, could not accompany her onto the island proper.
"Get ready, Simon," Kajan said, approaching in the guise of a coachman, complete with a straw hat and a leather vest.
"What’s my role?" Simon asked quickly.
"You don’t need to do anything specific. Just follow from a distance with the other agents."
The plan was set: Lethe as the noble lady, four agents as bodyguards, and Kajan as the coachman. The rest would tail them from afar.
"Kajan!" Simon called out urgently. "I have a favor to ask!"
"Um?"
The patrol began. The wheels of the carriage kicked up clouds of dust as they rolled down the dirt path.
"Ugh, don’t come any closer," Lethe’s voice drifted from inside. "You’ll get the stench of corpses all over me."
She made no effort to hide her disdain for the necromancers. She had her feet propped up insolently on the opposite seat, her elbow resting on the windowsill as she grumbled—the very picture of a disgruntled passenger.
And at the reins...
’...I can’t believe I ended up doing this,’ Simon thought.
He had taken on the role of the coachman, complete with a leather vest, a straw hat pulled down low, and a fake beard.
"Up front! Can’t you drive this thing properly?" Lethe’s irritated shout echoed from the carriage. "The ride is atrocious! It’s so damn bumpy!"
"S-Sorry!" Simon yelled back, beads of sweat dotting his forehead as he flicked the reins. ’Just you wait!’
He drove her around the island, focusing on the most populated areas: the beach, the ancient ruins, the bustling market stalls, the university campus, and the grand stadium.
Her divine senses were undeniably real. As a test, Alistair had sent one of Professor Parahan’s assistants near their route, and Lethe had detected the divinity instantly.
’Ugh,’ Simon groaned internally.
His mind was in turmoil. They occasionally left the carriage to walk, giving him plenty of opportunities to be alone with her. But whenever the agents were out of sight, no matter how many signals he sent with his eyes or hands, she gave no response.
Or worse.
"How irritating," she would mutter, glaring at him with pure contempt. "For a mere necromancer."
At this point, he was the one getting his feelings hurt. Whether they were surrounded by people or completely alone, her coldness was unwavering.
"It’s hot," she declared. "Go buy me something to drink."
Bound by his role, Simon scrambled to fetch her a beverage. She took a single sip, then scrunched her face in disgust and dropped the glass.
"What is this foul taste?"
The glass shattered on the carriage floor, spilling its contents everywhere. She gestured at the mess with her chin, her expression sullen.
"Well? Aren’t you going to clean that up?"
As he scrubbed the floor with a mop from the back of the carriage, Simon shot furtive glances at her. ’Why is she being like this?’
With her legs crossed, she spoke without even looking at him. "What? You have a problem?"
"No, ma’am!"
He couldn’t fathom why she seemed so determined to torment him. After he finished the demeaning task and returned to his post, Kajan approached him.
"Student Council President, the Saintess has requested a change of coachman."
Just like that, he was dismissed. Kajan took the reins, and Simon was relegated to watching her from a distance.
As they scurried about, day bled into evening. They had made no progress, and the group returned to their base camp in the cave. Their only remaining hope was Lethe’s midnight ritual: Starfall. The necromancer agents would form a perimeter while she performed it.
"Good work, Simon," Kajan said. "See you tomorrow, President. I’ll inform you of the results."
Alistair also bid him farewell. "Thank you. See you tomorrow."
Simon nodded to them both and headed for the cave’s exit. He saw Lethe sitting alone on a nearby rock, her frosty expression fixed on the scripture in her hands. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment as he passed.
She offered no reaction, her gaze as vacant as if she were looking at a stone. Feeling utterly invisible, Simon trudged away.
After stopping by the student council room to finish his duties, he finally returned to his dorm.
Toto was dead to the world after his evening training. Still in his uniform, Simon collapsed onto his bed with a heavy sigh.
A profound sense of unease settled over him. He stared up at the ceiling.
’Is that really her? Is that really Lethe?’
At first, he’d assumed her harshness was an act, a necessary precaution to keep their acquaintance a secret. But even when they were alone, she didn’t just ignore him; she treated him as if he were a complete stranger. She looked at all necromancers with disgust, and she looked at him with that exact same gaze. The memory of her cold eyes made him shake his head, trying to clear the clutter from his mind.
’...Just get some sleep.’
He rolled onto his side, trying to find a comfortable position. What had he even been hoping for? Seeing her face was enough. This was a mission. She had her role as a Saintess, and he had his as the Student Council President. If it led to them catching Ever Kyre, then that was all that mattered.
’Right. Ever Kyre.’ He had to be caught.
Just as his eyelids began to grow heavy...
The dorm room window flew open with a soft click, letting in a gentle breeze. Simon’s eyes snapped open in alarm.
"What are you doing, moping around like that?"
The unexpected voice made Simon’s head whip around.
Bathed in a cascade of moonlight, a girl with ash-gray hair sat perched on his windowsill, her legs stretched out before her like a figure in a painting.
"Le..." Simon’s eyes widened in disbelief. "Lethe? How did you get in here—!"
She graced him with a radiant smile, as warm and gentle as spring flowers in full bloom—a world away from the icy demeanor she’d worn all day.
"I came because I had a feeling you’d be like this."

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