Chapter 7: I Became a Swordsman in the Middle Ages

A Wager for the Future

"Rude, what's the situation?"

The young boy stood silently in front of the Sacred Flame, eyes closed.

Rude, the Windsor Knights' resident mage, slowly opened his eyes and spoke.

"Commander. This is strange."

"Strange how, exactly?"

Rude pointed at the flame with one finger.

"There’s absolutely nothing wrong."

"I came to the same conclusion."

Marquis Viaton approached from behind, hands clasped behind his back.

"There’s been no change in the flame’s performance. It’s neither stronger nor weaker than before."

"Cecilia’s just too sensitive. Even as a mage, it’s barely noticeable for me," Rude added, brushing off his clothes and rising to his feet.

"It’s a very faint fluctuation. I can confidently say there are only a handful of people in our entire knight order who could detect it."

Kairon stared into the flame, expression unreadable.

Even he had to concentrate to the extreme just to sense a flicker.

Only by already knowing it was wavering could he barely detect it at all.

"Still, that doesn’t mean Cecilia was wrong. It is shaking—however slightly. How did she even notice this? She deserves a head pat, honestly."

‘So Rude came to the same conclusion.’

The best mage in the order.

The greatest mage in the kingdom.

Both had said the same thing.

The chances of them being wrong were vanishingly small.

And yet—

"I spoke with her yesterday," Kairon said quietly.

Something was bothering him.

It was the same feeling he’d had the first time he met Cecilia.

An intuition that defied logic had stirred once again.

"She believes the power of the Goddess is weakening."

"...!"

Both Viaton and Rude showed signs of surprise.

Viaton looked thoughtful, while Rude furrowed his brow and scratched his head.

"Hmm. I’d like to support Cecilia, but that’s a bit much, Commander."

"Why is that?"

"The principle behind the Sacred Flame is fairly simple. It’s a barrier spell with a restricted range, targeting demons only. The only difference is that it’s powered by divinity, not mana."

And with such a structure, analyzing it wasn’t difficult—especially for someone like Rude.

"The flame is perfectly stable. It’s in the same flawless state it’s always been—not a single gap allowed."

"What about you, Marquis Viaton?"

"I largely agree, though... I wouldn’t say there’s zero possibility. Just not a likely one."

Viaton was a mage to his core.

A seeker of truth. He never claimed certainty.

Unlike most battle mages, who fought by trusting in the highest probability and discarding the lowest, Viaton never ruled anything out entirely.

"Any visible flicker is almost imperceptible. If the divine power had weakened, it would have weakened only by that tiny degree."

"I don’t know, old man. It might be subtle, but it’s still within the realm of detection. If the flame had truly weakened, I’d know."

"What could be more foolish than judging the divine by human standards?"

"Hmph. I’m a mage. It’s my calling to stop the gods’ dice rolls."

The debate grew heated.

Neither of the two men was willing to back down.

But the core of their debate was no longer whether the Goddess’s power had weakened, but rather whether it was right to seek proof at all.

“...It would be wise to consider the possibility. For now, we’ll maintain the current situation.”

“Commander, that’s a waste of manpower. It’s a serious burden on the kingdom.”

Rude frowned slightly, annoyed that Kairon wasn’t siding with him.

“If this disturbance—however slight—were to weaken the barrier, the outskirts of the capital could be exposed to a demon invasion.”

“That won’t happen,” came a voice from not far off.

Kairon’s brow twitched ever so slightly.

Edward was walking toward them.

“We thoroughly searched the area surrounding the capital, but found no meaningful traces of demonic activity.”

He stopped in front of Kairon.

“The proper course of action is to lift the state of emergency. There’s no longer any justification for it.”

Kairon didn’t even look at him.

“...My decision to continue monitoring the situation remains unchanged.”

A slight crack formed in Edward’s otherwise serene expression.

Still, he kept his smile as he asked, gently:

“Is this because of Cecilia?”

“…”

Kairon said nothing.

“I know how sharp Cecilia is. But this time... she may have overreached.”

Irritating words.

That’s when Kairon finally turned to face him.

“Shall we make a wager?”

“A wager?”

“If Cecilia is right, I win. If she’s wrong, you win.”

“If it’s a wager, then there must be stakes.”

“If I win, you are not to interfere with Cecilia’s promotion to Vice-Commander.”

A faint crack ran through Edward’s perfect smile.

“…So you believe I intend to block her advancement?”

“Will you take the bet?”

“Very well. But in that case, if I win... do not give her the position.”

Kairon responded without hesitation.

“Fine.”

Edward said with a strangely mocking look.

“Commander, you do seem to forget sometimes—she’s only 16. A child. Still more prone to pouting than to noble duty—”

***

The child in question, Cecilia, stood in front of a mirror.

It wasn’t just any mirror.

It was a dark one—its surface reflected nothing.

A mirror known as the ‘Mirror of Truth.’

It sounded like something out of a fairy tale, but it was real. A sacred artifact.

“Let’s hope I’m worthy.”

The Mirror of Truth had a rather simple function for a holy artifact:

Wear a certain accessory made of black sapphire, stand before the mirror, ask a question—and it would reveal an absolute truth.

“...Thanks, Leoric. Next time you go on a date with the noble lady, I’ll style you myself.”

Cecilia whispered her gratitude, pulling a pendant—worth a staggering 1,000 gold—from inside her coat and fastening it around her neck.

She stared directly into the black glass. Slowly, an image began to form.

Reflected in the surface was a girl with breathtaking beauty.

It was Cecilia herself.

"Mirror, mirror..."

The words slipped absentmindedly from Cecilia’s lips—childlike, almost innocent.

The mirror shimmered with a faint blue glow, as if resonating in acknowledgment. The light softly illuminated the small hut she’d grown fond of.

"From now on, I ask that you answer my questions."

In response, the image of Cecilia’s exorbitantly expensive pendant rose gently into view within the mirror’s reflection.

It was a sign that the sacred artifact had accepted the Elathia Pendant as an offering.

‘Finally... I’m asking it.’

Cecilia felt her heart flutter.

The Mirror of Truth answered everything—

...everything except the ‘future’.

It wasn’t that kind of relic.

It revealed only the present—but always with absolute certainty.

And that’s why she had never dared ask this question.

Not until now.

“The Goddess…”

Saint Michael—the Goddess who governed their world.

“In the year 499 of Saint Michael, in the current dimension where Cecilia Windsor exists—”

The reason Cecilia suspected that the “official launch” would occur in one year…

Was based on the lore of Another World.

In that setting, the Goddess Michael had bestowed a blessing upon humankind to combat demons.

But her power would wane every 500 years—and once it did, she could no longer grant new blessings.

That’s when humanity would seek a new breakthrough:

To summon beings from another world.

Michael, now weakened, could no longer empower humans of this realm—

But she could grant blessings to those from another world.

And so, Another World began.

Which meant, there was only one question Cecilia needed to ask.

“Has her dominion over this world clearly weakened compared to before?”

“…”

She stood still—so still her heart felt silent.

As the mirror’s glow wavered slightly, she held her breath, waiting for the answer.

Then—

“Yes.”

The girl reflected in the mirror answered casually, as if stating an obvious fact.

“Without a doubt.”

“…!”

Cecilia’s eyes widened as she glanced down.

The pendant around her neck had vanished.

The mirror, too, had returned to its original, empty black state.

The Mirror of Truth had spoken.

Which meant—

"Hah. Haah. Haahaaa!"

In a year, newbies are coming!

***

“Something’s weird.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s like… I’m suddenly overwhelmed with happiness.”

“Wait—seriously? Me too, actually.”

Cecilia returned home, radiating a quiet happiness virus.

Her face remained as stoic as always, of course.

When she arrived at the mansion, her maid Marie—clad in her usual maid uniform—bowed gracefully.

“Welcome back, Miss.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll prepare your bathwater.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“…?”

Marie, a seasoned professional with 28 years of experience, practically had a question mark floating over her head.

Normally, this conversation would have gone:

— I’ll take it later.

— That won’t do.

But today?

She said yeah. Twice.

‘Why does she seem so cheerful today…?’

…Whenever Lady Cecilia was in a good mood like this, something big usually followed.

Marie couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in her chest.

“First of all, the Lord is calling for you.”

“Yeah.”

Tap, tap, tap.

Cecilia walked along, practically glowing.

Her mood couldn’t have been better.

If someone had stolen the last strawberry she’d been saving for dessert, she would have forgiven them with a smile—today only.

“I… apologize.”

“Pardon?”

“I bet your future.”

As soon as the door opened, Kairon’s grave voice hit her ears, and Cecilia tilted her head.

‘My future…?

Don’t tell me…’

Did he go out and arrange an engagement behind her back?

If that were the case, Kairon would soon get to experience what her running away from home looked like.

“I have absolutely no intention of getting married yet.”

“Marriage? What kind of horrifying nonsense is that? Even if I’m buried face-down in dirt, that’s never happening.”

Kairon instantly snapped back, completely serious.

Cecilia sighed in relief, then asked curiously after a moment of thought:

“So… you made a bet involving me?”

“Yes.”

“With yourself...?”

Kairon looked mildly offended.

“No. With Vice-Commander Edward.”

“I see.”

He hesitated slightly.

It’s kind of embarrassing… a knight commander making a personal wager over something like this.

“It was about what you said yesterday.”

“You mean the part about the Goddess’s power weakening?”

She didn’t particularly mind if they didn’t believe her.

The truth would come out soon enough.

All she had to do was wait.

“Yes. That’s what the bet was about.”

“And the stakes?”

“Your appointment as Vice-Commander. I bet it on your behalf.”

“I see.”

Cecilia wore an expression that clearly said, “And… so what?”

“You don’t seem very surprised.”

“Well—because I’ll win anyway.”

Snort.

Kairon chuckled softly.

“That’s just like you.”

“But… you didn’t call me here just to say that, did you?”

‘Actually… I did call you here just to say that.’

Kairon paused, choosing his words carefully.

Cecilia had a tendency to stay sulky for a long time when upset.

“I’ll give you a reward. Name what you want.”

“Allowance.”

“...Alright. If I win the bet, I’ll double your allowance.”

‘D-Double...?’

Cecilia swallowed hard.

That was practically a massive pay raise.

But she knew better than to stop there—

A big person doesn’t settle for just that.

“…Also, please lift the current spending ban.”

“Hmm...”

“I promise I’ll be frugal from now on.”

Kairon let out a long sigh.

‘Was that pushing it too far?’

Cecilia began to worry she might’ve gone overboard.

But then, Kairon gave a slow, heavy nod.

“Fine. But only if you spend it on something meaningful—”

Kairon swallowed his words.

Looking at the now Cecilia's empty spot, where she had already disappeared, he sighed again.

“She’s probably out shopping for clothes.”

Well, she was at that age, after all.

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