Dressed in her pure white Efnel uniform, Lethe stepped forward. Her ash-gray hair had transford, now a cascade of snow-white locks that flowed like waves in the wind.
"I’m counting on you to protect ," she said softly.
Simon, who had been watching, srized, snapped back to reality and nodded. "Ah, yeah! You can count on ."
While she perford Starfall, she would be completely vulnerable. His job was to ensure nothing disturbed her.
A mischievous smile touched her lips. "You look so flustered. I’m not sure I can trust you."
Simon cleared his throat. "Don’t worry."
"Okay," she said with a nod. She took one last look at the glittering island below, then drew in a slow breath. "I’ll trust you."
Exhaling softly, she clasped her hands and closed her eyes.
She looked like a figure from a painting, Simon thought. Despite her usual cold, snappy deanor, when she prayed, her entire aura shifted, becoming sothing serene and sacred.
The grass rustled around them.
"O, great Mother of all creation," she began.
With each line of her prayer, a white magic circle blood at her feet. The circles layered upon one another, filling the air with glowing white script. She unclasped her hands, raised her arms to the night sky, and began to conduct the heavens with a single, graceful finger.
’The stars...!’
They began to move at her command. The fixed points of light streaked across the sky, leaving long, shimring tails in their wake. It was a procession of stars, a sight so magnificent that Simon could only stand and gape, his mouth hanging open. The celestial trails wove together into a breathtaking tapestry.
The magic circles at her feet pulsed in resonance. As she drew a map across the sky, its stellar patterns were perfectly mirrored on the ground. The authority of the stars, wielded through the power of a Saintess, ford equations that looked like constellations.
’Incredible,’ Simon thought. His knowledge of white magic was limited, but even he could recognize the profound magical significance in those celestial arrangents.
With her eyes closed and a serene smile on her lips, Lethe guided the stars with her fingertips. Her snow-white hair fluttered, and her shoulders swayed gently, keeping ti with so unheard cosmic rhythm.
It was an exquisitely beautiful sight. The stars themselves seed to sing under her command.
"I can feel their hearts," she murmured, her voice filled with joy. "It seems the people of the Dark Alliance also make wishes upon the stars."
"Ah, yeah. They do."
"No matter where people live, they’re all quite similar, aren’t they?"
Waving her hands cheerfully, she brought her arms together and stretched them toward the sky.
The constellations, the circuits of starlight she had drawn, began to converge into a single, massive circle centered on her position. The mont they connected...
’Ah.’
The night sky seed to part. A beam of starlight, too brilliant to look at directly, descended from the heavens, illuminating only her. Bathed in this divine spotlight, Lethe knelt gracefully on the grass and continued her prayer.
The magic circle erupted in a final, dazzling flash of light. Simon, not daring to interfere, took a step back.
At last.
The magic she had woven with the night sky began to unravel, returning to its natural state. The stars, the Milky Way, the teor showers—all settled back into their familiar places. Lethe’s hair, which had been floating around her, drifted gently back to her shoulders. She unclasped her hands and rested them on her knees.
Finally, she opened her eyes, revealing pupils of brilliant gold. A soft puff of mist escaped her lips.
Simon rushed to her side. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, I’m fine," she said, though her expression was distant, her mind clearly elsewhere.
"Good work," Simon said, offering her a gentle smile and his hand.
She started to swat it away out of habit, but then hesitated. Slowly, she placed just her index and middle fingers on his palm and used his support to rise to her feet.
"Did you find anything?" he asked, his heart pounding with anticipation.
She ran a hand through her long hair, a troubled look on her face, before finally speaking.
"My observation shows nine individuals on this island, besides myself, who possess divinity."
The faint outlines of the magic circles still hung in the air. She walked gracefully toward one and pointed.
"There are six people to the west. They are..."
"Right. Professor Parahan and his teaching assistants," Simon finished for her. They were the defectors who taught Divine Defense Studies at Kizen.
Lethe shifted her finger. "And one person in the southern cave."
"South... that’s Professor Grelion’s cave. The Saintess of Harvest is there."
"Correct. And one person in the northern base, surrounded by necromancers."
Simon knew imdiately. "The northern base? That must be the priest we captured."
"Yes," Lethe said, her voice clear as a bell as she raised her hand. "So, the last one is—"
Simon swallowed hard, waiting.
She tapped his forehead with her index finger and smiled brightly.
"Y-o-u."
Simon’s face flushed a deep crimson. She lowered her finger, a playful grin on her face as she crossed her arms.
"It seems that’s everyone."
"Wait, then...!"
"Yes, yes," she said, her voice softening into a quiet finality. "Ever Kyre is not on this island."
---
After she finished Starfall, Simon escorted Lethe down the mountain. They managed to reach the safe zone without encountering any monsters or watchn. He took her all the way to the entrance of Grelion’s cave, their base camp.
’I can drop you off here, right?’
’Yes, thank you for bringing .’
It wouldn’t do for them to be seen together, so Simon headed straight back to his dorm while Lethe walked into the cave alone.
"Saintess!" an agent called out.
The necromancers had seen the celestial disturbance and knew she had perford the ritual. She went inside and imdiately reported her findings to the Nephthys agents.
The result: nine individuals detected. Of course, in her official report, she omitted Simon and included herself. The sources of divinity were Professor Parahan and his team, the captured priest, and the Saintess of Harvest. There were no others.
The conclusion was unavoidable: Ever Kyre was not on the island.
"So he really was injured and forced to retreat."
"A stroke of luck in this misfortune."
As a Saintess, she was the continent’s foremost authority on divinity. Unless they were to doubt her integrity, her word was law. Kizen, too, began to operate under the assumption that the imdiate threat had passed.
"If you are still unconvinced," Lethe offered, "I can perform the ritual again tomorrow evening."
She had to remain on Roc Island until the Saintess of Harvest was stable anyway; it was far too risky to transport the injured woman via spatial magic.
And so, the next morning dawned.
A new order ca down from Nephthys. With the Saintess’s confirmation of Ever Kyre’s absence, all ship traffic to and from Roc Island was to be halted, effective imdiately. The seas around the island once again beca a maelstrom of high waves and treacherous currents.
"What is the aning of this?!"
"You’re saying we can’t go back?"
Visitors and rchants who had briefly left the island were stunned by Kizen’s decision. The academy cited security concerns, offered appropriate compensation, and turned them all away. All teleportation circles on the island were also temporarily suspended. The plan was to maintain this ironclad lockdown until the Dark Festival concluded.
When Simon arrived at Grelion’s cave that morning, Kajan briefed him on the new developnts.
"Looks like we can finally breathe a little easier," Kajan muttered, scratching the scar beneath his eye.
"Yes, sealing off the island was a good call," Simon agreed. If Ever Kyre had truly been wounded and forced to flee, getting back in would be nearly impossible. The distance from the mainland was vast, and he would have to contend with the currents, the waves, the magical barriers, and the comprehensive surveillance network. He would have to maintain his reality-warping ability the entire way, a feat that would likely leave him completely drained, assuming he even made it.
"But," Simon said, crossing his arms with a grunt, "the problem is what if he never left the island in the first place."
"What?" Lethe, who had been sitting nearby with a disgruntled expression, shot him a sharp look. "Are you questioning the authority of a Saintess? Huh?"
"N-No! That’s not what I ant, Saintess," Simon stamred.
She was back to playing the part of the prickly, arrogant Saintess, complaining about the stench of corpses and warning necromancers to keep their distance. Her performance was so convincing, Simon found himself sweating.
’At this point, is she even acting?’
"While the situation has improved, we cannot afford to be complacent until the festival is over," Alistair announced, striding into the cave. The necromancer agents bowed their heads in unison. Lethe rely snorted, not even bothering to look at him.
"As the Student Council President noted," Alistair continued, "we cannot rule out the possibility that Ever Kyre has found a way to completely conceal his divinity. I must ask that you continue to assist us in our search today and tomorrow, Saintess."
"Honestly," Lethe grumbled, making a show of cleaning her ear. "You people really know how to work a guest to the bone. Fine. If you’re that paranoid, I’ll help. But I have conditions."
"State them."
"I’m done with that noblewoman charade. It’s annoying and tedious." She contemptuously tossed the dress that had been laid out for her. "And I’m tired of being trailed by a crowd of ’bodyguards.’ It just attracts more attention. Since Ever Kyre isn’t even here, it’s completely unnecessary."
"Then what do you propose?"
"I’ll wander around on my own, pretending to be a tourist," she said, rising from her seat. "I’ll sweep through the crowded areas, like the stadium. That should be sufficient."
"...Hmm. If you are willing to help us in that capacity, we would be grateful," Alistair conceded. They were in no position to make demands of soone who was helping them out of goodwill. Besides, with Kizen now believing the threat was gone, their state of alert had relaxed considerably.
Lethe nodded and started for the exit.
"Ah," she said, pausing to look back. "Co to think of it, I don’t know my way around. A guide would be helpful."
"I will assign an agent to you."
"No, thank you. Being escorted by so bearded old man would look strange." Her eyes scanned the room before landing on Simon with a theatrical sigh of resignation. "You there. Student."
Simon pointed at himself, his face a mask of bewildernt. "...?"
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