258. Arrival from Western Continent
“This isn’t good... this is far too generic.”
Ravenna sat in her study, her brow furrowed as she flipped through a catalogue of gift ideas. The pages were filled with finely crafted dolls, music boxes, and miniature dresses, but nothing seemed right. She sighed, leaning back into her plush velvet chair, the catalogue slipping from her fingers onto the polished desk.
“I can’t decide on a single thing,” she muttered, rubbing her temples. “Mina’s first birthday deserves something special, something... memorable. Not just another trinket that will gather dust on a shelf.”
She stared at the ceiling for a moment, the weight of her indecision pressing down on her. It was ridiculous, really. She could plan a war, restructure an entire economy, and negotiate treaties with hostile nations, but choosing a gift for a one-year-old child? Impossible.
“I am too distracted. I was supposed to be working on something entirely different,” Ravenna chided herself, shaking her head. She straightened her posture, pushing the gift catalogue aside and pulling a thick stack of reports toward her. “I will think of it later. Prioritize, Ravenna.”
She opened a new file, the crisp parchment rustling in the quiet room. The title was written in bold, efficient script: New Waste Disposal Policy of Kim Dukedom.
“Hmm... a proposal to create a more efficient waste management system,” she murmured, her eyes scanning the text. “With the influx of immigrants from Otto City and soon from Flask County, our population will be booming. The current infrastructure won’t hold for long.”
She traced a line of data with her pen. “Sorting is currently ineffective due to manpower shortages, so burning has been the primary method of disposal. But that’s wasteful, and the smoke is becoming a nuisance.”
Her mind began to churn with possibilities: recycling centers, composting for the new agricultural zones, perhaps even using the waste as fuel for the steam engines if it could be processed correctly. She reached for the Reputation System interface, intending to search for modern waste management blueprints.
Just as her fingers brushed the air to summon the screen, the heavy oak door burst open.
“Master! Master!”
Marie rushed into the room, her face flushed with excitement and her breath coming in short gasps. She skidded to a halt just in front of the desk, her hands gripping the edge as if to steady herself.
Ravenna looked up, her hand pausing mid-air. She raised an eyebrow, her expression a mix of amusement and mild irritation. “What is it, Marie? Why are you in such a rush? Has the castle caught fire?”
Marie shook her head vigorously, her chestnut curls bouncing. “No! Nothing like that! Master, I figured it out! I figured out a way to identify my blessings!”
Ravenna’s eyes widened slightly. She set her pen down, her full attention now on her disciple. “Oh? That is good news indeed. Tell me.”
Marie took a deep breath, her eyes shining with determination. “Please pray to Goddess Herptian! If you pray to her in my presence, I can identify the specific blessing she has given me!”
Ravenna blinked, her brow furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean? Why would my prayer trigger your blessing?”
Marie quickly explained the conversation she had with God Umbra in the Secret Proscenium Stage. how the God of Secrets had revealed that the blessings could be identified if an Apostle of the specific deity prayed in the Saintess's presence, granting divine permission for the knowledge to be unveiled.
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“I see...” Ravenna murmured, leaning back in her chair as she processed the information. “So, you need to find an Apostle for each of the Twelve Gods and have them pray before you? That is... quite a task.”
“It is,” Marie admitted, “but it’s the only way. God Umbra said he couldn’t just tell me because of the political friction between the gods.”
Ravenna tapped her finger on the desk, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. “It makes sense. The gods are petty creatures, bound by their own rules. Still...” She looked at Marie, a small, proud smile touching her lips. “It’s not strictly necessary for us to know every blessing right this moment, but it is faster than waiting for you to discover them naturally through trial and error. And given that the Cult of Absolution is active and moving pieces across the board... it is better to be prepared now than sorry later.”
“Exactly!” Marie beamed.
“Very well,” Ravenna said, standing up and smoothing the skirts of her gown. “If a prayer is all it takes, then let us not waste time. Let’s do it on the balcony.”
She walked toward the large glass doors leading to the terrace, Marie following close behind like an eager puppy. The cool sea breeze greeted them as they stepped out, carrying the scent of salt and the distant, rhythmic clang of the shipyards.
Ravenna walked to the stone railing and looked out over her city. It was thriving, a testament to her will and vision. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and clasped her hands together.
At that moment of serenity, it was shattered by the heavy thud of the study doors flying open.
Ravenna’s eyes snapped open, her reverie broken as Dame Aisha stormed onto the balcony. The knight’s usually composed face was flushed, her chest heaving beneath her armor as if she had sprinted the entire way from the coast.
“Your Highness!” Aisha gasped, abandoning all protocol in her urgency. “We have a situation! The watchtowers at the Northern Coastline have signaled an approach!”
Ravenna turned slowly, her expression hardening into the mask of the Duchess. “An approach?”
“Yes, Your Highness,” Dame Aisha replied, her voice tight with tension. “It is a single, massive vessel. It bears no merchant flags, nor any crest of the Ancorna Empire. It is an unidentified ship, and it is moving with speed toward the harbor!”
Ravenna’s eyes narrowed. An unidentified ship, moving fast enough to panic Dame Aisha? Her mind instantly began to cycle through threats: assassins, the Cult of Absolution, a rogue element of the Imperial Navy.
“Prepare the defenses,” Ravenna ordered, stepping away from the railing. “If they think they can ambush us—”
“Wait! Your Highness, please wait!”
A breathless voice cut through the tension. High Priest James stumbled onto the balcony, his ceremonial robes disheveled and his usually serene face shining with sweat. He braced himself against the doorframe, wheezing as he tried to catch his breath.
“It is not… it is not an enemy ship, Your Highness!” High Priest James managed to choke out, straightening himself with a desperate effort.
Ravenna paused, arching a brow. “Your Holiness? Explain yourself. Dame Aisha says it is unidentified.”
“It carries no flag because it needs none, It has an engraved crest on its haul” James said, a fervent light entering his eyes as he looked at her. He bowed deeply, lower than he ever had before. “The ship… it is unmistakable. It is the Minto, the personal vessel of the High Council.”
He looked up, his voice trembling with awe. “It is the Archbishops, Your Highness. The envoys sent directly from the Herptian Main Headquarters in the Western Continent. They have finally arrived!”
Ravenna’s lips parted in surprise. The memory of her negotiations resurfaced: James’s promise that the Central Church would send their highest representatives after the Saintess was revealed. She had expected them, yes, but not this soon. The news of Marie’s revelation had only traveled to the mainland weeks ago. For a ship to cross the treacherous ocean from the Western Continent in such a short time meant they had burned an astronomical amount of mana to get here.
“They traveled fast,” Ravenna mused, a calculating glint returning to her eyes. “It seems the Church is very desperate to see the Saintess than I anticipated.”
She smoothed the front of her gown, the surprise fading into steely resolve. This was a pivotal moment. The arrival of the Archbishops shifted the political board once again.
“Very well,” Ravenna declared, sweeping past High Priest James and Dame Aisha toward the door. “If they have come all this way with such haste, it would be rude to keep them waiting. Let us go greet them immediately.”
Behind her, Marie let out a small, quiet sigh. Her shoulders slumped as she looked at the spot on the balcony where she had been about to pray. “We didn’t even get to find the blessing...” she muttered, a pout forming on her lips as she reluctantly turned to follow her master.