The Nerd Next Door Turned Out To Be The Magic Tower Master - Chapter 76

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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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Chapter 76
The room was sparse and austere.
Several long, narrow tables were arranged in neat rows, each bearing what appeared to be a Ceremonial Dagger, a small potted plant of uncertain vitality, a glass vial no larger than a palm, and a bundle of yellowed Parchment arranged with meticulous care.
Cecilia moved directly toward the table in the center, where the Parchment lay.
Her memory was hazy, but it resembled what she’d found in the Prayer Room that day.
After setting the Bouquet on the table beside the Ceremonial Dagger, Cecilia carefully extracted the Parchment from within the transparent case.
‘How could anyone ever think this was a Gift of God?’
Not only did it look shabby, but she’d assumed it was the journal of the Pope—someone with decidedly antique tastes.
It was strange enough that this precious Sacred Object had ended up discarded in the Prayer Room in the first place.
‘But that’s not really what matters now.’
What truly mattered was that the Record of God lay in her hands at this very moment.
Ignoring her racing heart, she turned back the cover.
Would the pages really contain what she’d been searching for—some hint, some path back home?
Brimming with anticipation, she turned one page, then another.
But there was nothing written inside at all.
‘What is this?’
She summoned her Divine Power to her fingertips and tried turning the pages again, but the result was the same.
‘How can this be…’
Her excitement drained away in an instant. Despair sapped the strength from her entire body.
‘…Did I really not see this coming at all?’
No. In truth, she’d sensed it dimly all along—the possibility that no answer would come.
“With the Wisdom of God dwelling within it, one can find answers to any doubt or difficulty,” the Archbishop had said.
But that explanation offered no guarantee that her particular answer lay within these pages.
Yet the thought of facing a situation with neither answer nor hope had terrified her so thoroughly that she simply needed to believe.
‘But blank pages? That’s asking too much.’
Perhaps the Temple never actually possessed any Gifts of God at all. Perhaps it merely maintained the pretense for the sake of its prestige.
And yet…
If that were true, would the Pope have granted her access to this place?
‘Is there perhaps a different way to use it?’
Cecilia examined the journal from every angle.
She placed her palm against the worn cover, then tried drawing her Divine Power not through her hands but through her eyes.
‘No change.’
“How am I supposed to use this thing?”
The moment she spoke those muttered words and turned the pages again, something extraordinary happened.
Black letters that had been invisible before rose up from the paper.
“Doubt. Think. Question. The answer lies at the end.”
The brief sentence was unmistakably a response to her murmured question.
‘So if it can help solve any problem or doubt, all I have to do is speak aloud?’
The method of use was almost embarrassingly simple.
Cecilia let out a bitter laugh, then drew a deep breath. And she spoke.
The wish she had never forgotten—the longing she had carried for so long.
“I want to go back to my original world.”
The answer she had searched so desperately for was written on the very next page.
Her hands trembling, she reached to turn the page—
“Saint?”
The unexpected summons startled her, and she spun around abruptly.
In doing so, she collided with the adjacent table, sending the Bouquet and the Ceremonial Dagger box clattering to the floor.
“Oh, forgive me. I’m sorry for startling you—I was simply eager to speak with you.”
The figure whose brow had creased in embarrassment was none other than the Pope himself.
‘Did he hear?’
Since when had he been there? Cold sweat trickled down her spine.
Unable to find any words to say, Cecilia fell silent. The Pope quickly continued.
“I hurried over hoping not to be late for the Inauguration Ceremony, and I was told you were here. I thought we might speak together, but I suppose I made very little sound entering, didn’t I?”
The Pope offered an awkward smile of apology.
‘He didn’t hear after all.’
Reassured, Cecilia studied him more carefully for the first time.
He had clearly arrived in haste—his usually immaculate robes were slightly disheveled, and his white hair, normally combed so meticulously, now stood somewhat awry.
“There’s no harm done. This is a place few are permitted to enter, so I was simply surprised.”
“Mm, I did ask in the letter, but was the Monastery well? The Holy Knights told me you endured many trials…”
His gaze was deeply concerned, wondering if her present alarm and caution stemmed from the ordeals she had suffered there.
It was true that she’d grown tense from the string of accidents, but that shouldn’t have warranted such concern from the Pope.
“There was an accident, but thanks to the Holy Knights you sent, I wasn’t hurt. Thank you.”
As she offered her thanks, Cecilia hurriedly gathered the ceremonial tools and their storage box scattered across the floor.
She’d only just realized the mess she’d caused.
‘What if something got damaged?’
Objects kept in a secret room had to be immensely important.
Though she fretted helplessly, the Pope seemed unconcerned and instead bent down to help her clean up.
“It’s fortunate. You don’t know how worried I’ve been.”
He retrieved a bouquet that had fallen farther away and spoke with the same gentle smile as always.
“I only want you to always be safe, Saint.”
And then a petal from the bouquet drifted down to the floor.
‘……What just happened?’
Cecilia fought to shake her sluggish mind awake.
The Pope had picked up her bouquet, said he wanted her to be safe, and as a result, the Flower of God had shed a petal.
Which meant…….
The Pope did not want the Saint to be safe.
In the eerie silence, Cecilia hid her trembling hands behind her back.
She couldn’t let it show. She had to act as though she’d noticed nothing.
“Saint? What’s wrong?”
“Oh, no—I just remembered something urgent. I’m sorry you came to see me, but I think I need to take care of it before the Inauguration Ceremony begins.”
“Then you should go at once.”
The Pope nodded and extended the bouquet toward her.
Cecilia gripped it with hands that had barely stopped shaking.
But she couldn’t take it. The Pope still held the bouquet and was staring down at it.
“Ah, this is the Flower of God, isn’t it?”
……
“I’ve never seen one in person before, so I almost didn’t recognize it.”
She nearly screamed—actually nearly screamed. She nearly stumbled backward.
But Cecilia forced herself to hold steady and cleared her throat.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
Even as she spoke, her left hand clenched the Ceremonial Dagger she’d been holding all this while.
“However you obtained the Flower of God, Saint, I’m afraid this is rather troublesome.”
Cecilia didn’t look away from the Pope’s cold face, the smile vanished like a lie.
Her deception wouldn’t work in the slightest. She was certain of it.
‘Is he going to attack right now?’
Tension made her breathing shallow. Yet the Pope surrendered the bouquet to her without hesitation and spoke casually, as though nothing had happened at all.
“Did you know that the Gifts of God aren’t actually four, but five?”
When God left the side of his creation, he left behind four gifts. The Flower of God, which discerns truth; the Record of God, which contains all the world’s wisdom; the Tears of God, which grants miracles; and the Breath of God, which holds great power.
Kiar had once explained the Gifts of God to her in just this way.
‘But five?’
“The fifth Sacred Object, known only to successive Popes, is the Fruit of God. A fruit nurtured on the blood of priests—whoever cultivated it can steal the will of whoever consumes it.”
……
“It’s so rare that fruit can only be harvested once every hundred years. Fortunately, we were able to harvest it this time.”
The Pope glanced sidelong at the table where a potted plant sat.
So he’d harvested the fruit there.
Then where exactly was the harvested fruit…….
‘Ah.’
Realization came faster than speech.
“You should have seen it yourself, Saint. That red fruit you ate during the Relief Festival.”
So that was why he was volunteering information she hadn’t even asked for.
Cecilia recalled the ruby-red fruit, like pomegranate seeds, that she’d consumed during the ceremony. She’d definitely swallowed it, tasteless as it was.
“You seem skeptical. Ah—hand me the dagger in your hand, please.”
The Pope’s voice, suffused with Divine Power, came out low.
In that instant, her hand moved beyond her will. Her left arm stretched out of its own accord and returned the Ceremonial Dagger to the Pope.
“Just like this.”
Cold sweat beaded across Cecilia’s round forehead. The horrible sensation of being a puppet on strings made her body shudder.
Yet the Pope merely smiled lightly and drew the dagger from its sheath with a soft whisper.
“I hadn’t maintained it for this purpose, but the blade is quite sharp.”

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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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