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It might be a bit late to mention, but the entrance ceremonies for educational institutions on the continent are typically held between the month of the Lion (July) and the month of the Spider (August). This is simply because travel is inconvenient during winter. Additionally, in spring and autumn, people are busy with farming activities, leaving them with little free time and many complaints. Thus, the relatively free summer months were chosen.

For some reason, the higher-ups at the Imperial Academy in Livitium once insisted, “The entrance ceremony should be in spring, obviously!” This nonsensical opinion was ultimately overridden (rumors circulated that it was due to the top authority in the Super Empire throwing a tantrum, although this was highly dubious). Due to the aforementioned reasons, the academy’s entrance ceremony was also held in the month of the Spider (August), right after the summer break.

Now, around the end of the month of the Beast (September), when Jill and her friends had gotten used to their school life in Cilento, a small happiness and a sudden calamity simultaneously occurred in a luxurious mansion near the center of the capital of the Graviol Empire, Conwallis.

The master of the mansion at the center of this turmoil was Eilmer Adelbert Matthew, Luke’s (Lucas’s) father. He rarely ever mentions his surname, as his lineage is that obvious. As a duke in name and a dragon knight in the imperial guard, he is in his prime at thirty-five. Unusually for the noble society, he married for love, to the daughter of a former count’s family. He has a brilliant wife and an heir, a son who inherited the best traits of both parents. Indeed, he had been living a picture-perfect, blissful life.

Eilmer’s wife had given birth to their much-anticipated second child, a daughter, just half a month ago, adding to their happiness—or so it seemed. But an unexpected twist of fate awaited them.

“—That’s some sour face you got there. You always look like a sloven idiot, but now you just look like a miserable fool. A face that hideous is bad for children’s emotional development. Maybe you should keep that face hidden for ten or fifteen years,” said Regina, who had arrived without warning. Despite her scathing words, she was dressed as an upper-class elderly lady, befitting the setting.

“That’s not true, Your Majesty the Grand Founder. Eilmer always looks dashing, no matter the occasion,” replied his wife, Karina, without hesitation, while soothing their newborn child in a crib. Though somewhat worn from childbirth, her tone and expression were that of a woman deeply in love.

Even though they had been married for fifteen years, the couple’s doting affection remained unchanged. Regina, faced with their unabashed display of love, fell silent, her expression akin to having swallowed vinegar.

The rare sight of the otherwise domineering Regina being somewhat subdued caused the blond knight beside her—clearly a person of some standing, given the pristine white cloak and the formidable sword at his side, even though he wasn’t in armor—to shake with silent laughter.

Regina, glaring at him with a sullen expression, silently downed the tea that had been served to her in one gulp.

Seeing this, the knight stifled his laughter and shrugged his shoulders with an expression that said, “Good grief…”

He appeared to be in his mid-twenties, a strikingly handsome man with a stern and refined demeanor. Eilmer, having never seen him at court before, surmised that the knight might be a personal guard to the Grand Founder herself, as such a prominent figure would not go unnoticed otherwise.

Regardless, Eilmer had to tread carefully with the unexpected visit of the Empress and her companion—though technically, this residence was one of the imperial villas, perhaps Regina saw it as just an extension of her home. Eilmar smiled wryly and responded:

“Well… ha ha ha. Of course, the birth of our daughter is a joyous occasion, and fortunately, Karina is recovering well from childbirth. We should be celebrating wholeheartedly—however…”

He tilted his head, regarding the two uninvited guests with a discerning gaze.

“I can’t help but worry about how the court and the state church will view this child. They might see her as a potential source of conflict…which keeps me from feeling entirely at ease.”

He glanced at his beloved daughter, wrapped in her swaddling clothes, her adorable sleeping face softening his expression. But when his eyes fell on her silvery hair, he wore a more complex look.

The color, heavily streaked with white, was the same as that of her great-great-grandmother sitting before him. This distinctive coloration, which had not appeared since the time of his grandfather, the previous emperor, had now manifested in his daughter.

Of course, Eilmer himself was a direct descendant of Graviol. It was not entirely impossible for this trait to reappear, but given that it hadn’t surfaced in his father, himself, or his eldest son for three generations, he hadn’t anticipated it. This was a lapse in his foresight.

Eilmer was caught between viewing recent events as a promising sign or as a prelude to fresh chaos. The absence of the color “white,” a legacy of the emperors, had led to a deadlock in selecting the next ruler. This dilemma, combined with the criticism from rival sects, particularly the Saintess’ Church, against the state church, the Deva Kureha Faith, for its diminished influence, filled Eilmer with concern about potential reactions to these developments.

Contrary to his fears, the response was unexpectedly positive:

“Hah. What kind of family wouldn’t rejoice at the birth of a child?”
“The birth of a new life, with both mother and child healthy, is certainly a cause for celebration.”

These heartfelt congratulations momentarily disarmed Eilmer, prompting him to scrutinize his two guests more closely.

One knight, in particular, displayed a brief yet profound reverence akin to that of a clergy member, leading Eilmer to ponder:

(Could this man be a Holy Flower Knight of the church?)

Recalling that Holy Knights were among the church’s elite, each with a status at least equal to a priest, Eilmer grew more circumspect, contemplating a more formal demeanor.

“Well, well. Lady Regina, it appears I’ve worried you unnecessarily. Might I trouble you for an introduction?”

With a wry smile, the knight turned back to Regina, who was eagerly indulging in more tea and pastries. His cape, lined with crimson, billowed as he moved.

“…What a hassle. This serious-looking fellow is an old friend of mine, a cleric by title but a swordsman by trade. His name is—”
“Lapoque Allbright. We may have met briefly at your baptism in the main temple when you were four years old, though you likely don’t remember.”

Eilmer automatically accepted the extended hand and, recognizing the name, gasped in surprise.

“…Allbright, the Pope… the Sage of the Sword and the Supreme Leader of the Deva Kureha Faith…?”
“—No, no, not quite that grand. I’m merely a delegate for the Princess—ah, the Heavenly Sovereign, managing everything from church affairs to minor administrative duties.”

His affable grin was nearly convincing enough to make Eilmer agree, yet the notion that the head of the continent’s largest religion—a figure on par or even superior to the emperor—could merely be an errand runner seemed either a significant understatement or a view from someone genuinely beyond such titles.

“Her Imperial Majesty the Grand Founder and His Holiness the Pope, both paramount leaders of the empire, have honored us with their visit. Is my child so pivotal to the empire’s future?”
“Hah, calm yourself. I’ve told you, I’m merely here to meet the new member of your family.”
“I too arrived on a whim, curious about the first ‘white’ born in the empire in some time—forgive me if that comes off as impolite.”
“Hmph. Even with this talk of ‘white,’ it’s just a unique hair color on a child. Fascinating, sure, but saddling her with responsibilities straightaway is objectionable.”
“Truly. Every life holds equal value. To judge otherwise is the pinnacle of folly.”

Together, they sighed, a shared gesture of their mutual frustration.

“By the way, I’ve yet to introduce her to the Great Emperor and the Pope,” whispered Karina, gazing lovingly at her child’s peaceful expression. “Her name is Ange. Angelina Eineas Serena. Her middle name is borrowed from the Great Founder.”

“Ah, magnificent. A beautiful name,” remarked Pope Allbright with a wide smile.

Meanwhile, Oliana Eineas Mirn Graviol, the Great Founder, seemed caught off guard by the revelation. “Hmm… How curious,” she noted sharply.

Oblivious to the adults’ bemusement, Angelina continued to sleep tranquilly.

Translator’s Note:

Something kind of important that I forgot to mention; the Deva Kureha Faith is written as such in Kanji: 天上紅華教

天上 (tenjou) means the heavens
紅 (kurenai) means crimson
華 (hana) means flower
紅華 (crimson flower) can be read as Kureha
教 (kyou) means religion

It is the Religion of the Crimson Flower in the Heavens, which I guess explains why it’s a Holy Flower Knight (聖華騎士) and not a Holy Knight (聖騎士). The Crimson Flower, of course, refers to Hiyuki, the supreme divine being, the Deva Kureha you might say.