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“Unfortunately, it seems that Lady Clara’s daughter, Lady Syltianna, has no aptitude for the Healing Art.”

Upon hearing the words of the high-ranking official from the Saintess’ Church’s Department of Divinity, words filled with stark dejection…if not a deep regret, the lord of the Aulanthia Frontier County, Count Corrad Simon Aulanthia, dropped his shoulders. His amicable face was painted with despondency.

“…I see. There’s nothing we can do, then. An eagle sometimes begets a kite. Nevertheless, Syltianna is still Clara’s child, she can’t be anyone but my own flesh and blood. As her father, I want to give her a fair life.”

The high priest, although reluctantly, nodded to Corrad’s words.

Incidentally, while both the name of the Saintess’ Church and the fact that its supreme leader, the Shrine Maiden Princess, was a female gave the impression that it was a religious organization made up entirely of the fairer sex, most of its members were actually male.

However, for some reason, the majority of those who could use the Healing Art were women (there were men who could also use the art, but their abilities were comparatively weak), hence why women were on the leading edge within the organization, reinforcing the stereotype that equates the Saintess’ Church with high-ranking women.

This time, they came with several shrine maidens in tow under the guise of visitation of Lady Syltianna upon her accident, whilst their original purpose was to confirm whether or not Syltianna was qualified to fill the position of the Shrine Maiden Princess, which had long been vacant since the retirement of her mother for the lack of the appropriate person.

They had always been relentless in their efforts to secure Syltianna’s custody after the death of Clara, but each time they were denied, with the reason that Syltianna was too young to part with her family and that the talent of the mother wouldn’t necessarily pass onto the daughter. …in fact, their requests were rejected on the grounds that she was so foolish that she was known as the Ragweed Princess of the Livitium Imperial Kingdom. However, when the subject of healing Syltianna, who had been seriously injured and was still suffering from the aftereffects of her accident, was pushed to the fore, the Count couldn’t refuse —if anything, Count Aulanthia regarded that the timing couldn’t be any better— so he left them to heal his daughter and waited in a separate room.

And then, the words mentioned earlier. The fact that the very first thing they addressed was her background as Clara’s daughter instead of her injuries suggested to Corrad that, to them, Syltianna was nothing more than a substitute for Clara. However, their hopes were dashed.

(Hmph. The lot of you abused Clara when you found her inconvenient, and yet you cling to her name when you need her. …I won’t let you desecrate Clara even after her death.)

For that motivation, Count Corrad of Aulanthia —aware of the evil he was exercising yet marched on with the will of steel, wore the mask of a timid, little man, keeping his thoughts from the world, whilst showing the face of a nervous rabbit in front of a prey— asked.

“So, about my daughter…her lame leg, can it be healed…?”

“You see, there are complications about that.” In the presence of the lord, within the lord’s mansion, the high official responded in a somewhat condescending manner.

While it’s true that the Aulanthia Frontier County was technically part of the Livitium Imperial Kingdom, the kingdom differed from an empire in that it was a conglomerate of various local monarchs under the umbrella of Livitium. These local rulers were granted noble titles by the Cilento central kingdom, effectively incorporating them into the imperial kingdom. Consequently, each lord held a significant degree of autonomy, and central authority was mostly ineffective.

The claim that the Aulanthia Frontier County, with the largest territory and population within the imperial kingdom, was a paramount kingdom on par with, if not superior to, the Cilento central kingdom, wasn’t an overstatement.

The high official’s haughty demeanor, rooted in the misperception of being part of the “state religion” and a misunderstanding of the Frontier Count’s status, drew disdainful glances from the count’s vassals. The middle-aged official, however, seemed pleased with his superficiality, nodding contentedly with a smug expression, like a criminal admiring his stolen goods.

(If only we had successfully established the Imperial King of Livitium with Clara as our ally nine years ago, you pompous fool who fancies himself a clergyman would have been deposed in an instant…)

While inwardly mocking the official’s buffoonery, the Frontier Count nostalgically recalled the ambitious plan he and Clara had once set in motion and how close they were to realizing it.

Interestingly, the Livitium Imperial Kingdom had no ruling king. The Central Kingdom of Cilento, entrusted by the Superempire to manage the Imperial Kingdom, had a king who was nominally referred to as an Imperial King or a member of the Imperial Family. (It remains unclear why the Superempire didn’t officially appoint a ruling king. However, one theory suggests that it was because, in the words of the God-Emperor herself, “Hmm, no one seems up to the job.”)¹

“The wounds on her body will heal with time. However, since some of the nerves in her legs have been damaged, a complete recovery…would be difficult. However, with our excellent healing work, it will be possible to restore her to the point where she can walk normally.”

“Ooh! What a silver lining.”
“However, it is difficult to send high priests and shrine maidens all the way here every time, so it would be more feasible if the lady is cared for at our head temple for extensive treatment, or at least brought to the imperial capital of the Cilento central kingdom.”
“Hm…”

Corrad feigned consideration over the Divinity official’s words. The answer, however, was clear. Surrendering Syltianna would amount to a desecration of his late, beloved wife’s memory. Corrad suspected the Church’s involvement in her death, and revealing Syltianna’s true identity would compound this sacrilege.

Today, the continent is home to a multitude of religions. Only two, however, have been declared the state religion, excluding indigenous beliefs: the Deva Kureha Faith and the Saintess’ Church.

Of these, the Deva Kureha Faith was the state religion of the Graviol Empire, and it was widely influencing the entire continent, practically becoming the world religion. Its head temple was said to be located in the home country of the Superempire, and although it was somewhat shrouded in mystery, its doctrine was widely accepted regardless of rank and status, as it was based on the virtues of honorable poverty and selfless service, and did not accept donations beyond what was necessary.

It was, of course, the pope of the Deva Kureha Faith who presided over the recent state funeral of Emperor Gianluca in the empire.

Translator’s Note:

Politics? World building? Where’s my daily slow life???

1. Mab: Confused? I won’t blame you.

   So, in short, the imperial kingdom is a collection of kingdoms under one umbrella. The title Count and such are just that, titles, while in effect every lord is equal to a king. Meaning Corrad is a king in his own right.

   Cilento is also a kingdom, it just happens to be in the center of the region, which is why Hiyuki made it as the “central admission.” Cilento has a king, and that king is nominally (or on paper) called the imperial king.

   However, Cilento’s king is not the king of Livitium Imperial Kingdom. He’s just the king of the central kingdom. Just one king amongst many kings.