Bathed in light stood two charming young ladies. Both had long hair, though of different shades, and equally beautiful eyes, though their expressions differed. But Audrey and Bevanna, at least, understood that their objective was one and the same.
A moment of silence passed before the diviner spoke again.
"Let's return to our previous topic," she began. "The situation is this: Jenkins, a descendant of the guardians of the World Tree and a priest of the great sovereign, the 'Lord of Blossoms,' now possesses abilities of the undead. What could this possibly mean?"
She also noticed the cat sulking on the sofa and made a mental note to send it back shortly.
"It means Jenkins is no pure-blooded elf. His human bloodline is equally strong."
Miss Bevanna replied sarcastically. Thɪs chapter is updatᴇd by NoveI-Fire.ɴet
"Do you still not trust me, Bevanna? We both know the blood of an elven priest destines that body to never touch death."
The diviner's voice remained calm.
"If you already know the answer, why ask me? If it isn't his body, then it must be his soul. Jenkins's soul is so powerful that it has overcome his not-yet-fully-awakened bloodline and has completely rewritten the rules of his physical form. This isn't particularly surprising. We've known his soul was powerful ever since his first encounter with a Mysterious Object."
The diviner offered a subtle smile. She was probing, testing just how much the Church of the Sage truly knew about Jenkins. It now seemed they were unaware of the true reason for his soul's strength: the support of multiple Savior's Emblems.
That was enough. Though dealing with Papa Oliver's questions would be more difficult later, she was quite satisfied with the current situation.
"Sorry, I left my cat here!"
A knock sounded, followed by Jenkins's muffled voice from the other side of the door. The women inside shared a look and instantly ceased their sensitive conversation. Miss Bevanna picked up a document from the table, while Miss Audrey sat down and pretended to play with the cat.
"Sorry, I left Chocolate here!"
Jenkins pushed the door open sheepishly, giving an apologetic nod to his two nominal teachers. He then scooped up the sulking cat from the sofa and made a swift exit.
"Papa Oliver will want to have a word with you soon."
Miss Bevanna threatened, her eyes fixed on the spot where Jenkins had disappeared.
"I know," Audrey replied. "But please, don't use that phrasing. It brings back memories of my childhood, of the three months I spent briefly studying under Papa Oliver."
Since he was "gravely injured," Bishop Parrold had arranged for Jenkins to spend the night at the church and leave in the morning. Jenkins, busy placating the angry Chocolate at the time, had accepted the offer.
He avoided any further trouble and returned to his room early to rest. As it was Tuesday, his consciousness was soon projected to Ruen.
"You're rarely late. What happened?"
He found himself once again in the princess's study in the royal palace. The room's warm, bright interior stood in stark contrast to the snowy night outside. Perhaps because the royal hunt was to begin the next day, Miss Stuart was, for a change, not hunched over her desk wrestling with vexing math problems.
"I ran into some strange undead, and... I made a huge mistake," he explained. "But don't worry, I'm fine."
He didn't want to worry his friends, so he omitted the part about being grievously wounded, glossing over the incident with a casual air.
Ruen had seen its share of major events recently, the most significant of which was the confirmation of rumors regarding the appearance of A-01-1-8322, the "Snowman Legion." Remote villages had already fallen victim, with one small settlement reportedly transformed entirely into snowmen.
The number of snowmen was estimated to be in the thousands—a disaster on a national scale.
The Orthodox Church had already begun to handle the situation, reporting the matter to King Salsi II. Miss Stuart was astonished when a palace servant relayed what they had overheard; she had never imagined such a disaster could strike so close to home.
"It's alright. The three demigods stationed in Ruen have already driven the Snowman Legion farther north, near the great ice cap frequented by the sea monster Kentaya. I doubt the city itself is in any danger."
"Pardon me, but how do you know this? The Church hasn't made any official announcements, as far as I'm aware."
Julia asked the question that was on Miss Stuart's mind.
"I saw it with my own eyes last night."
As she said this, Alexia tilted her head, raised her teacup, and winked at Jenkins. For a moment, he had the distinct sensation of Chocolate's little paws scrambling against his chest.
The royal hunt was to be held in the hunting grounds east of Ruen. Though called "grounds," the map Miss Stuart had provided showed an area so vast it could have been described as an entire plain.
The grounds were so immense that the hunt was always confined to a specific, designated area. That area changed every year, and not even Miss Stuart could learn its location in advance.
Game was scarce in the winter, so royal servants would release wild animals into the designated area before the event began. The participating royals and nobles were then free to roam within those bounds, gathering on the final day at a rendezvous point to show off their respective hauls.
There were no silly contests or scoring systems; everyone simply hunted to the best of their ability. However, the ladies were always praised regardless of what they caught, while the man with the smallest haul would be mocked for the entire year—and possibly for many years to come.
The requirements for the Stuart royal family were especially strict. While the underage princesses were exempt, any male member who participated, regardless of age, was required to bring in a minimum of 1200 pounds—about 544 kilograms—of game.
In the summer, a single bear or a larger wild boar might be enough, but in winter, one could only find small animals like snow hares and crows.
His Majesty the King never punished the sons who failed to meet the quota, as the failure itself was considered shame enough. It was a peculiar tradition of the Stuart royal family, and part of the process of grooming heirs.
Thus, Miss Stuart's task for the next few days was simple: find a safe spot and enjoy a pleasant three-day winter camping trip. As long as she returned safely, the hunt would be considered a complete success for her.
"But... would it really be that simple?"
A small voice in the back of Jenkins's mind muttered.