Project GB is an official initiative by Re:Library.

“Anyway, enough of this nonsense—stop this ruckus at once!”

Lady High Priestess Teressa commanded with a tone that brooked no refusal. Her face was smiling, but her eyes… her eyes were deadly serious—serious with a capital S.

And then, to drive the point home for all of us who were still hesitating:

“—Everyone here, sit on your knees!!”

Her thunderous shout shook the very air. Colin froze like a statue, eyes wide, while the exhausted Maria Lou, lying prone on the ground, only let her eyes fall closed once before exhaling a weary sigh and giving a small, reluctant order:

“…Stand down.”

At her word, the wastebeasts and golems immediately went quiet, halting in place or dropping to sit where they were.

On their side, at least, they managed to fall into line.

On ours, however—as expected… or rather, as was inevitable—

“Hmph. Why should I have to demean myself by sitting on the filthy ground like some miserable commoner?”
“Ohhh, this haughty tone of Lady Clara really brings back memories! Totally reminds me of when she used to visit our lab with Lord Simon. Well, technically that’s a little later in the future, but still, nostalgia!”

Eliza turned her head sharply away in open defiance, while Coppelia, for reasons unfathomable, was positively thrilled by the reaction.

Meanwhile, the rest of us—

“You people drop without a shred of hesitation, huh…”

Perhaps because, as a former priest (?), Cestlavie still couldn’t quite shake the ingrained instinct to obey orders from someone high-ranking in the Church, he reluctantly lowered himself.
Then, casting a somewhat chilled glance at the three of us beside him—myself, Regulus, and even His Holiness Pope Theodoros—all of whom had instantly collapsed into the posture of humble prostration—he muttered that in a voice utterly devoid of warmth

“Well, what do you expect? Lady Teressa is my direct superior. Besides, I was scolded so often under my master that now, whenever an older woman gives me a high-pressure order, dropping to my knees is practically second nature.”
“—Slaves are used to being ordered around and beaten daily. It’s hard to resist orders.”
“Teressa’s scary, okay…?”

Each of us offered our excuses with pouting lips. Cestlavie pressed a hand to his forehead as if warding off a migraine.

“You… I understand Regulus, but you and the baldy next to you are supposed to be the Shrine Maiden Princess and the Pope, respectively; you’re the twin pillars of the Saintess’ Church! Don’t spout such pitiful nonsense!”
“Who are you calling bald!? And for the record, the Pope’s just a figurehead anyway—the Council of Sages holds the real power. Plus, I’m about to be banished to the mountains for ten thousand days, so it’s not like I’ve got any standing left.”
“I was never really the Shrine Maiden Princess to begin with. And since Eliza seems happy to take over that role, I’m nothing more than a commoner now.”
“…You two…”

Cestlavie pressed his hand to his head again.

Meanwhile, across the way, Eliza was throwing a tantrum, Coppelia was having the time of her life egging her on—and then Lady Teressa stepped forward in silence, looming over them like an unyielding wall.

“—Ghhhaaa!?”
“Hogeeeeeehhhhh!?”

Without so much as a warning motion, she delivered swift punishment.

Eliza doubled over, gasping, after taking a clean punch to the solar plexus, writhing on the floor, unable to make a sound—even though when I had hit her, she’d shrugged it off without issue.

As for Coppelia, despite being at least twice the weight of a normal human, she was sent flying like an empty tin can by a single front kick, splashing into the pool. …Well, she’ll be fine.

A smiling bodhisattva on the outside, a wrathful yaksha on the inside.

“““““Scary…!””””

Watching Lady Teressa deliver merciless iron fists while smiling serenely, we all shuddered to the core.

And it wasn’t just us humans—the animal companions reacted the same way. Little Algernon and Sechs had already rolled over to show their bellies, striking a pose of absolute submission.

The only one unfazed was Cardinal Callisto. Either he was extraordinarily bold, or simply used to this sort of thing—he just gave a little shrug.

As Eliza crouched on the floor, unable to form words, Lady Teressa’s scolding continued.

“Sister Eliza. As a member of the Council of Sages, I command you: henceforth, you are to refrain from reckless behavior. Fulfill your duties as a Shrine maiden, and devote yourself wholeheartedly to your role.”
“…?”

Perhaps she couldn’t quite grasp the meaning. Still gagging, Eliza looked up at Lady Teressa with a confused, almost pleading gaze.

Eh?! What does that mean!?

I wanted to ask, but the sheer pressure radiating from her silenced me. Then, from behind, I felt the weight of an almost telepathic, wordless pressure from the others: Ask. Ask her!

You people—how can you, even for a moment, think nothing of pushing a frail maiden like me into the line of fire!?

“…Um, so in the end, what will happen to Eliza?”

At last, crumbling under the weight of that pressure, I gathered my courage and asked.

“The answer is clear. If she could be restored to the original Sister Eliza, then she would resume her training from the beginning. However—”

At that, Lady Teressa’s eyes shifted to Maria Lou. She, just as she had with me earlier, silently shook her head, wordlessly affirming that Eliza’s transformation was irreversible.

“…If that’s impossible, then the only choice is to push forward with her as she is now.”

“By that, you mean…?”

Would anyone even believe us if we explained everything exactly as it happened?

“It’s obvious. Now there are two Shrine Maiden Princesses. Which means—you can both work twice as hard at your duties.”
“““No, no, no, no!!”””

I, Cestlavie, and Colin—the only sensible ones here—immediately raised our voices in protest. But Lady Teressa paid us no heed and went right on.

Why is it that every woman around me is either ridiculously bold or absurdly careless? And just now, wasn’t there a rather disturbing glimpse of her true intentions slipping out…?

“Fortunately, with the Northern Nation Summit about to convene, the Holy Capital is in chaos. We can deal with this in the confusion. Let’s say, outwardly, that Eliza remains missing. Meanwhile, from now on, Lady Adelheid and Eliza will perform together as the two-in-one Shrine Maiden Princess Clara. There shouldn’t be any problem with that.”

““That’s nothing but problems!!””

My protest and Eliza’s aligned for once—but Lady Teressa simply cracked her knuckles with a serene smile and asked, “Is there a problem?” The pressure was so overwhelming that we both had no choice but to fall into silence.

“As expected of your superior. But seriously—why is it that every woman around me is a lunatic like this?”

Cestlavie muttered, casting me a sidelong look. Eh? Wait—does that mean he’s lumping me into that category too?!

“Fwahaha! Just as I foresaw!”

At that moment, Coppelia climbed out of the pool with a smug grin, returning with buoyant steps.

“I knew it! This development was inevitable! And the relationship between Eliza, who became Clara, and the real Lady Clara! Yes, the truth is—Eliza and Lady Clara are mother and—wait, what?”

Like a detective revealing deductions to a slow-witted assistant or client, Coppelia began to proclaim her theory—when suddenly, an immense surge of magical energy swept through the underground chamber.

“Kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!?!?”

A deafening rumble shook the ground beneath us, the tremors so violent we couldn’t even stand. Almost at once, fissures split open across the rock ceiling, and with a thunderous roar, the roof itself came crashing down.

♦♢♦♢

Seated in his chair, Georgios the Archbishop felt a faint tremor and lowered his steel-grey eyes to the floor.

The office itself was no larger than the other chambers of the Sant’Angelo Sanctorum, but with Georgios’ massive frame, and the desk and chair built to match it, the space felt suffocatingly cramped.

“…It’s done.”

The words rumbled from his throat in a deep, rusted voice, stripped of any emotion.

Barely two hours earlier, he had received a report: the nuisance thorns in his side—Shrine Maiden Princess Clara, Pope Theodoros, High Priestess Teressa, and Cardinal Calisto, all members of a rival faction—had slipped into one of the old, abandoned underground passages.

“A nest of monsters has been discovered beneath the Holy Castle. This is a grave matter. It strikes at the dignity of the Holy Land. We shall eradicate them in secret.”

Following the orders of his right-hand man, Friar Lawrence, Georgios had hastily gathered what forces he could—barely enough to carry out large-scale ritual magic art. Yet, against the odds, they had succeeded in invoking the Theocraft Earthshaker on their very first attempt. That, he mused, was fortune smiling upon him.

Lawrence, he decided coldly, must be granted promotion at the next Council of Sages. Perhaps even installed as Calisto’s replacement once that seat fell vacant.

“In the end, the troublesome ones have been swept away… Well, even had we failed, it would have been of no consequence. This was always a slapdash plan—profit if it succeeded, no loss if it didn’t.”

He murmured to himself, not to anyone in particular—when suddenly,

“Your Eminence, Archbishop Georgios! Disaster! That tremor has thrown the Holy Capital into chaos! And His Holiness Pope Theodoros has vanished!”

A frantic pounding shook the office door.

This was a region unaccustomed to earthquakes. The tremor itself had been mild, yet it was enough to spark panic throughout the city.

“…Hmph. Cleaning up will be troublesome.”

In a tone of utter disinterest, Georgios muttered aloud. Then, without effort, he rose from his chair, hefting his beloved giant hammer in one hand as if it weighed nothing at all.