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On that day, Christiane Rita Brandmüller, the ruling governor of the old Domiciano Fief (now known as the Tenebrae Nemus region directly under the jurisdiction of the empire), was exerting every ounce of her authority and leveraging all her personal connections. She reached beyond her own private knight order and the town’s modest regular army, reaching out to experienced militiamen and adventurers through the guild, all in an effort to assemble a response unit for the crisis unfolding in the Northern Frontier Village. However, in an unforeseen turn of events, the most pivotal figure in the entire empire, someone she could not afford to ignore for any reason, effectively barged into her residence.

“M-, Mentor—?! Why are you here?!” Christy leaped lightly onto the sofa.

Upon their reunion after several months—though their previous encounter was during the Emperor’s funeral, where Regina attended as the acting Emperor while Christy attended as a low-ranking court mage, so there wasn’t an opportunity or position to exchange words—Regina maintained her usual cantankerous expression, acting as if she were the mistress of the house. She arrogantly nitpicked at the servants, lounged on the sofa in the reception room, and indulged herself in tea and Jill’s homemade cream puffs without any reservations. A young girl sitting beside her, Regina’s company, it would seem, could only smile wryly.

By the way, Regina was not dressed in extravagant imperial attire or a dress but rather in a worn-out black robe, a black one-piece, and a crooked wooden magician’s rod (while in reality, it was a top-tier rod crafted from a branch of the World Tree Yggdrasil near its peak) that she casually leaned against the sofa. Seeing she had the mythical Caru, her familiar Maya, by her side as well, it was clear that Regina had fashioned herself not as the reigning monarch and the founder of the empire, but as a witch of Tenebrae Nemus.

“Your master’s here to see the stupid face of her own disciple. Is that how you treat me?”

The very person who was supposed to be seated on the throne of the Imperial Palace in the heart of Cornwallis Imperial Capital, barged into a baroness’ residence with a plus one, acting like a mother-in-law trying to fault her daughter-in-law…or, more accurately, like a normal person, really. Not being taken aback by her sudden intrusion would indeed be weirder.

“…no, well, I figured that you’d be busy, and Jill is away right now.”
“I know she is. That’s why I’m here, you dolt. As brilliant as it is, your brain is still half-measured as always.”

Sipping her tea loudly and unabashedly, Regina delivered her biting remark with an air of annoyance.

“Well, would you be so kind as to teach your stupid, inadequate disciple of your purpose here, you heartless, pupil-abandoning mentor?”
“Good lord. Now you’re jabbing at me? That’s why old virgins past their expiration date are detestable…”

Regina heckled Christy back. Even Royce, the steward, and Beatrice, the head housekeeper, could only avert their eyes and wish the storm would pass.

“Now, now, I know you’re enjoying your heartwarming reunion and all, but I think it’s time to get to the point, no? This place sure is hectic, almost like a warzone.” The other girl naturally took her seat next to Regina as if she belonged there, partaking in the tea and the cream puffs—giving the confectionery a dry evaluation of “70 points”.

While it was good to know that she liked the sweets, it was suspicious how friendly and casual her attitude was with the Founding Emperor, earning her a squint from Christy. Perhaps sensing that, the girl placed her cup back on its saucer, then looked up to Christy with an endearing “hm?” and a tilted head.

“—!” Now that she had a good look at the girl’s face, Christy was struck overawed by her beauty.

With her jet-black hair and eyes that emitted a mysterious scarlet gleam, she possessed a divine symmetry that resembled a masterpiece crafted by the hands of gods.

After living with Jill for some time, Christy thought she had developed a certain immunity to the charm of beautiful individuals. Yet, this girl’s allure transcended human boundaries. She embodied the essence of the Goddess of Beauty, a Siren capable of captivating an entire nation with her sheer allure. Her beauty was otherworldly, surpassing both divine and diabolical realms.

(…that’s no human being.)

Even among the renowned beauties of the Elves, it was doubtful they could compare to her. Needless to say, this applies to humans as well.

Following that, when Christy saw the attire she was adorned in, which prominently featured white and gold threads—resembling the garments worn by female priests of the Deva Kureha Faith or the Saintess’ Church, she inwardly sighed.

(A priestess, and quite a high-ranking one…? Why would she bring a high-ranking priestess when she’s all alone—could it be, is her health declining?!)

Christy felt like an idiot for worrying when Regina was demolishing the platter full of cream puffs before her, but… All things considered, Regina must be over 130 years old already. She could have kicked the bucket any moment now.

“…the hell are you giving me that look for? Are you thinking about something disreputable again?”

For a brief moment, Christy cast a concerned glance at Regina. The witch, perceptive enough (or perhaps just distrustful), seemed to guess what her disciple was pondering. A deeper frown creased her face.

“Your disciple seems to be curious about my identity. Now that I think about it, you haven’t introduced us yet. Shall I take the initiative to introduce myself?”

When Christy acknowledged the young girl, Regina interjected rather dismissively.

“Bah. If you try to introduce yourself, you’ll just complicate things. I’ll do it. Christy, the remarkable beauty before you is my old friend, Snow. People across the world refer to her as Rozen Heilige or Wandering Beauty, among other titles, but she’s nothing but a busybody with an abundance of free time. And this,” she motioned towards Christy with a derisive snort, “is my apprentice, the aforementioned stinking old virgin.”

While she stated this nonchalantly, it stopped Christy in her tracks for several long moments. Even Royce and Beatrice gasped, their spines chilling.

Rozen Heilige — the Messiah revered by the Saintess’ Church, one of the three principal religions on the continent, and the Living God renowned for healing people of illnesses, injuries, and even death.

She was a legendary figure, said to have roamed the continent for centuries, bestowing her miraculous gifts on humans, demi-humans, and monsters alike. Yet, most theologians and religious scholars on the continent insisted that such a person couldn’t possibly exist, claiming she was merely a fictional character, a concoction of the populace’s desires.

As far as Christy was concerned, Rozen Heilige was a mere myth, a convenient fabrication by the Saintess’ Church, weaving together tales of various healers from the past.

But it was Regina — Oliana Eineas Mirn Graviol, the founder of the Graviol Empire and the alleged oldest and most formidable ruler on the continent — who was introducing this fabled being to her.

Despite the distasteful nature of Regina’s words and actions, she wasn’t one to jest about such matters. It was only because Christy understood her mentor’s character that she immediately believed her. Still, she couldn’t help but express her astonishment.

“I never imagined she would actually exist…”

The words slipped from her lips unintentionally.