The Nerd Next Door Turned Out To Be The Magic Tower Master - Chapter 27
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 27
“What? That, that is…….”
“It hasn’t been long. Marie and I come from the same village!”
Sena answered on Marie’s behalf, explaining that Marie’s Holy Power had also manifested and she’d come to the Temple with her.
‘So they already knew each other.’
If that were the case, the possibility that Riri was the disguised Lien was virtually nonexistent.
‘Besides, I was reading too much into the eye color.’
Cecilia willingly cast aside her foolish suspicions and released Riri. The child quickly lowered her Veil and stood awkwardly in the middle distance.
Cecilia turned her gaze back to the bowl brimming with vegetables and stifled the sigh rising in her throat.
Her appetite, having fled the premises, showed no signs of returning. Cecilia stabbed her portion of fruit with a heavy silver fork and then thrust it abruptly toward the children’s mouths.
“Go on, say ‘ah.'”
“I, I’m really fine, though…….”
“That’s right! We’ve already eaten this morning! Holy Mother, please eat!”
“Sena. Did you see not long ago how the Holy Mother crushed those bad people? Breaking swords and axes snap-snap?”
“Yes! It was so amazing!”
“If you want to become that impressive, you need to eat better. When I was your age, I was constantly putting something in my mouth.”
“Ah! Yes!”
“Riri too!”
“……Yes.”
Sena, her small fist clenched with determination, and Riri, her head bowed low, eagerly accepted the fruit and chewed dutifully.
‘Once I escape from here, I should send them plenty of snacks.’
Her stomach was empty, but her heart felt strangely full that morning.
* * *
‘Should I just escape now.’
After breakfast, as she followed Miguel and the Archbishop as she did every day, Cecilia found herself cycling through the same worry for the forty-third time.
If the food they served was abysmal, she could overlook it—but having her study and pray all day long seemed excessive. What was more shocking was discovering that the infuriatingly thick book the Archbishop had given her before was truly only a ‘part’ of the collection.
She wondered what horrors awaited her today. Her chest trembled with something she couldn’t quite name—fear or stress, perhaps both.
But the place where Kiar stopped was not the Archive Room that reeked of old paper. He led her past several familiar corridors and soon stepped outdoors.
They passed through the Garden, thick with wild grasses and flowers, and as they moved eastward from the building, a small lake came into view.
The lake was precisely the shade of emerald one might see on a computer screen, and around it grew several massive willows that seemed as though they’d been standing for centuries.
“This is the place where the Ceremony will be held.”
Fingers pale from lack of light pointed toward the Altar beside the lake.
Beneath a long awning stood a great stone statue about five meters tall and an Altar fashioned from white marble. The Altar’s surface was simpler than expected—merely a crude Silver Candlestick, a white wax candle carved in the likeness of a god, and an empty cylindrical vase, nothing more.
“You’ve surely read about it many times in written form, but today I’ll teach you the order of the Ceremony directly.”
Cecilia listened with one ear and let the other one drift, softly closing her eyes. Warm sunlight and humid wind then became vividly tangible against her skin.
She’d resigned herself to either reading through dense pages endlessly or memorizing incomprehensible prayers while receiving Kiar’s disillusioned gaze. But if she only had to listen to an explanation in such a beautiful place, she could concentrate for hours.
Yet contrary to her confidence, Cecilia soon found herself captivated by ‘something’ she discovered near the lake.
It was a flower of distinctive appearance—its reverse-triangular white petals arranged in a circle with vivid red stamens—blooming abundantly around the lake’s edge.
‘Surely not.’
“Is that the Flower of God?”
Cecilia struggled to recall the existence that had once brought her such frustration. Why were flowers so rare they appeared as items for trade blooming here at the Temple in such profusion?
If they could be found scattered along roadsides like this, what had all her shame back then been for? She asked somewhat bitterly, and Kiar’s brow furrowed immediately.
“That couldn’t possibly be the Flower of God.”
“It isn’t? I heard it was a rare flower that grants eternal love.”
“Is that what they believe outside the Temple?”
How dreadful, Kiar muttered, before correcting the misunderstanding.
“This is merely a different variety that resembles the Flower of God. It blooms only near this lake, so it is rare, but it possesses none of those absurd powers.”
‘Of course that would be the case.’
She herself had never truly believed such ability existed. She’d simply regarded it as a flower of symbolic importance.
“And people seem to have altered the meaning into something romantic simply because it’s called a flower, but in truth the Flower of God is used to discern falsehood. According to the records, its petals fall when a lie is spoken.”
“So it’s not merely myth—such a plant actually exists?”
“That depends on what you choose to believe. It is, after all, one of the Gifts of God.”
“Gifts of God?”
“You’ll need to retake your lessons.”
Kiar clicked his tongue softly and continued his explanation with an expression of profound irritation.
“When God departed from the side of His creations, He left behind four gifts. The Flower of God, which discerns truth; the Record of God, containing all the wisdom of the world; the Tears of God, which grant miracles; and the Breath of God, which contains great power.”
“Then, where is the real Flower of God located?”
“Who knows. Most of God’s Sacred Objects were lost long ago.”
Just as she was dismissing it as an absurd myth beyond belief, Kiar calmly presented evidence.
“Currently, the Temple possesses only the Record of God. It is also known by another name: God’s Diary.”
‘God’s Diary?’
Cecilia’s eyes widened.
“It’s such a precious sacred object that even I, in my position as an archbishop, cannot access it. But according to His Holiness, it contains the wisdom of God himself, and one can find answers to any problem or concern. Though I suspect there are no answers to be found regarding my own life…….”
I let that final, melancholy remark pass unheeded.
What mattered was the part about finding answers to any problem. Which meant—could I not also find a way to return to my original world?
That is, assuming a being truly called God existed in this world, and that this object was indeed something he had written.
Considering that the place where I first opened my eyes was a Temple, it was certainly worth investigating.
“Then, um, would it be possible for me to access it in my capacity as a Saint?”
“Yes, both the Saint and His Holiness would be permitted to view it.”
“Then—”
“Assuming you are a properly recognized Saint, that is.”
Ah.
My buoyed spirits deflated as swiftly and completely as a lie exposed.
‘Of course. Things were never going to be this easy.’
When had life ever been easy for me? Without much disappointment, I simply nodded along absently. And in that same moment, I settled on Plan F.
A plan to access the Record of God.
To do so, I would need to journey to the Monastery—a place, I had no doubt, filled with trials and hardships.
As Cecilia steeled her resolve, Kiar explained the ceremony process in a tone brimming with indifference.
“His Holiness will recite the prayers, so all you need do as the Saint is participate in the closing portion of the ceremony. You’ll share the red wine and fruit, and then receive the torch imbued with Divine Power.”
I had thought I would need to summon the flame myself. This was far simpler than expected.
“Do you see the structure in the center of the lake? You’ll board this boat, travel there, and place the torch inside. That will be all.”
And Cecilia immediately reconsidered. Travel to the middle of the lake? In a boat?
“Wait—I have to board a boat?”
“Yes.”
The boat Kiar indicated with the tip of his finger was barely large enough for two people.
‘One wrong move and it’ll capsize.’
Cecilia glanced down at the water. Though it was as clear as distilled water, the bottom was nowhere to be seen.
“I can’t see the bottom. Is the water very deep here?”
“Outsiders call it the lake with no bottom.”
Kiar answered without particular concern, as though it were none of his affair. There followed an unnecessary explanation—that this had once been the Sacred Spring where God himself would perform ritual ablutions, and that even during the worst droughts, these waters never ran dry.
“So take care not to fall in.”
Suddenly, his expression hardened, and he warned me with grim authority. Cecilia, who was more than a little—in fact, rather considerably—frightened, froze. Then Miguel hurried to interject.
“Your Grace, please don’t frighten her needlessly. For someone brimming with Divine Power, the lake has a bottom. There’s no need to fear.”
“Is that so?”
“Ordinary people would simply drown.”
“…I’m sorry?”
At Kiar’s chilling addendum, the peace of mind I had just carefully gathered slipped away entirely.
‘Could it be… I’d actually sink because I’m not the real Cecilia?’
“If you’re truly anxious, you could test it yourself.”
Kiar, whose dark eyes blinked slowly with evident boredom, gestured toward the lake with his chin.
‘Test it? You can’t possibly mean right now?’
I was too flustered to speak, caught between bewilderment and indignation. It wasn’t even remotely funny…….
Yet truthfully, confirming it now would be less embarrassing and safer than having an accident during the actual ceremony.
Even as I reasoned this through, I still hesitated at the water’s edge—when suddenly, with a loud splash, someone fell into the lake.
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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