The Nerd Next Door Turned Out To Be The Magic Tower Master - Chapter 90

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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 90
She was a woman haunted by regret—forever imagining the paths not taken, dwelling on hypotheticals until she manufactured reasons to lament her choices.
As habit, she spiraled through the what-ifs. What if she’d simply withdrawn when she learned that Lien had no memory? What if she’d never believed his recollections would return? What if she’d let him remain a stranger, never knowing her, never loving her?
Drowning in those regrets, she had found herself unable to offer him any answer to his confession.
He seemed neither to demand one nor wait for one, and so Cecilia chose to postpone the difficult question for now.
The day she had to enter the Temple had arrived.
When Cecilia reached the Grand Temple with her heavy luggage, she finally came face to face with the Pope.
Save for a brief greeting in the Prayer Room after she’d regained consciousness, and another quick one before she’d returned to Weberdine, this was their first real conversation.
She worked hard to contain the anger that threatened to spill over—biting her tongue, swallowing curses, hiding the revulsion that burned in her eyes.
“Your Holiness, it is an honor to see you.”
“How delightful to see you again. You must be exhausted from your journey back from Belatis—I’m sorry to impose further help upon you so soon.”
The Pope looked exactly as she remembered: his eyes warm, his tone gentle.
It made her skin crawl all the more. Cecilia forced her stiff lips into a smile.
“I consider it a privilege to be of service to Your Holiness.”
Her performance was convincing. The Pope smiled back with ease and stepped aside.
“Ah yes—I’ve brought a young girl to assist you.”
A child who had been standing behind the Pope now stepped into view.
‘Sena!’
Sena was more composed than she’d been at their first meeting in the previous life, yet less polished than Cecilia’s last memory of her. The girl bowed respectfully.
“I’m Sena, and I’ve been honored to serve the Saint. I look forward to working with you!”
The warmth that once sparkled in the girl’s eyes when she looked at Cecilia had faded—yet kindness still gleamed there.
“I look forward to it.”
Once the greetings concluded, the Pope began to wind down the conversation.
“I’ve left the details of your schedule with the Archbishop. You must be weary from travel—please rest today.”
“Thank you for your thoughtfulness.”
The words tasted like ash on her tongue.
In the distance, several priests came rushing toward them, their white Priest’s Robes billowing behind them.
“Your—Your Holiness!”
“What is the matter?”
“There’s been a terrible accident! The Second Prayer Room—!”
One of the ashen-faced priests stammered out an explanation.
The window of the Second Prayer Room had shattered and caused an uproar. The door inside was now locked and wouldn’t open. They didn’t know if anyone inside was injured, so what should they do?
With each word, the Pope’s expression hardened.
“That is indeed serious. Come, we must hurry.”
The Pope took the lead, the priests rushing after him.
Cecilia naturally fell back in the crowd.
The incident seemed grave enough, but she felt no real concern.
There would be no casualties, no injuries—of that she was certain.
Her certainty had a simple source: this accident was part of her plan.
Before arriving at the Grand Temple, Cecilia had sent ahead one of the Emperor’s agents—a gift freely given to her—to infiltrate the Temple first.
The Grand Temple stood on sacred ground saturated with Divine Power, surrounded by high-ranking priests sensitive to magical energy. One had to be careful not to leave obvious traces.
But breaking a window and locking a door required no sophisticated magic—it was well within reach of a competent mage.
And among her allies was the Master of the Magic Tower himself. Even if someone sensed magical residue, tracking down the culprit would be no simple task.
With attention diverted outward, Cecilia crossed the Corridor with ease.
Finding a place she’d visited twice before was hardly difficult.
When she found the room where Sacred Objects were kept, Cecilia spoke to the Holy Knight guarding it with complete confidence.
“The Pope asked me to fetch some implements for the Ceremony. I’ll be just a moment.”
“Oh, of course! Allow me to open it at once!”
The Holy Knight opened the door without suspicion and stepped aside.
She was, after all, a officially recognized Saint now, with the Pope’s blessing—there was no reason to stop her.
Shamelessly lying, Cecilia strode inside.
Her destination was the Secret Room—or more precisely, the Record of God kept there.
She pressed a hidden switch on an otherwise blank wall, and a concealed space opened before her.
Cecilia hurried through the space, unwilling to linger where she carried such dark memories. The indignities she had suffered here left her skin crawling.
Yet she froze in the center of the room.
To her dismay, the long table was completely empty.
* * *
Failure tasted bitter, but she did not give up. The Record of God was essential for her plan to succeed.
‘The Pope must have it.’
Perhaps, as in the last life, he had taken it from the Secret Room to test her.
She searched the Prayer Room floor just to be safe, but found no sacred objects.
Unless the Pope carried it with him at all times, there was only one place left where such an object would logically be kept.
The Pope’s Chamber.
Back in her room after meeting Kiar formally—the one she’d encountered when she first opened her eyes in the Prayer Room—and enduring the harassment she’d already experienced once before at his hands.
Cecilia sat on the sofa, lost in thought, and turned to Sena with a question.
“The Eucharistic Ceremony is today, isn’t it?”
“Yes! His Holiness said it begins at noon.”
The Eucharistic Ceremony was an extremely long prayer lasting at minimum six hours. Since the Pope was presiding, his attention would be bound there the entire time.
Cecilia, who normally would have been expected to attend, used a stomachache as her excuse to skip it.
Once even Sena left her post for the ceremony, Cecilia rose from the sofa as though she’d been waiting for exactly this moment.
She slipped on an apprentice priest’s robes that she’d secured in advance from the Laundry Room, pulled a veil over her head, and slipped quietly out of the room.
She moved toward the Pope’s Chamber, careful to keep her hair from showing beneath the veil.
She’d considered asking her ally to cast Teleportation Magic, but unsure how far the traces might linger, it seemed better not to risk drawing unnecessary attention.
Worrying as she had about whether she’d be caught and exposed—or suspected and detained—she reached her destination with surprising ease.
Being a private space, there were no Holy Knights standing guard.
Cecilia pushed the door open carefully. She’d been prepared to use force if it was locked, but it opened almost too easily.
The Pope’s Chamber was immaculate. Not a single object was out of place, to the point where it was almost unsettling.
She swept her eyes across the dust-free room with unease and began searching in earnest.
The bookcases held nothing. Neither did the desk. After anxiously rummaging through things for some time, she finally discovered something worn deep in a drawer.
The Record of God was wedged between other old documents and letters like camouflage.
Cecilia opened the sacred object at once and asked the question she’d been preparing.
“What’s the way to resist the Divine Fruit?”
<He who drinks the Tears of God shall be granted a Miracle.>
The Tears of God was one of the four Gifts of God—or rather, five.
At the same time, it was a sacred object whose location was unknown, if it even existed at all.
Cecilia, growing more anxious, pressed further with her question.
“What are the Tears of God? Where can I get them?”
That was when it happened.
Footsteps drew closer, and she heard the creaking sound of someone grasping the door handle.
It was too late to leave. Cecilia, caught off guard, looked around frantically for a place to hide.
‘Where can I hide?’
Under the desk, beneath the bed, inside the wardrobe.
As she concealed herself in the wardrobe, which was relatively the closest, the door swung open with a squeak.
Disaster.
She should have returned the Record of God to its original place, but there simply hadn’t been time—she’d brought it with her into the wardrobe.
‘Please, let them not have come looking for this.’
Holding the sacred object tightly, Cecilia held her breath and waited for the Pope to leave the room.
But contrary to her hopes, the footsteps grew steadily closer. Cold sweat trickled down her back and forehead. She pressed her hand over her mouth and even stilled her breathing.
How long did she remain like that?
She strained her ears from within the wardrobe. All was silent and still, with no sign of another presence.
‘…Did they leave?’
Cecilia, catching her breath, pushed the wardrobe door open just a crack.
In that instant, through the narrow gap, she met the gleam of a pair of watching eyes.

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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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