Orthard. The small, humble village located at the foot of the mountain where the Order of Galahad resided.

Most of its citizens were as humble as their village, living off the land by their farms and fishing boats. Only some sought greatness, taking up the sword and joining the Order. And only a handful ever succeeded in joining, thanks to their harsh entrance test.

Inside one of the houses in said village now slept a certain young man.

His name was Ars. And he was a humble woodcutter.

Or so he believed.

"Ars. Ars. Ars."

He stirred in his sleep. Someone was calling his name.

"Thy have been chosen. Chosen to wield the sword by His Name."

His eyes fluttered. Is that… is that a woman standing beside his bed?

"My name is Catherine. And I am here for you. My Hero."

—-------

Fiora

"Haaa!"

A slash of thunder flew through the air, bouncing through a number of Diamond Trees. If you were to see it in slow-motion, however, you would see that there was a girl beside the thunder, somehow moving twenty to fifty feet every time she took a step.

When she stopped, Fiora sheathed her sword. And all the trees were sliced into hundreds of little pieces.

Not enough. I'm still not fast enough.

She sighed, wiping the sweat off her forehead with her sleeves.

Her training was going well, though not as fast as she wanted it to be. Steadily, her techniques grew stronger—sharper. And her sword grew more obedient to her as well.

She still remembered when she had trouble with these Diamond Trees. How time flew.

Guess I'll take a break.

Looking at the sun, she noticed that it was already time for breakfast. So, time to clean herself up and have something to eat. Maybe one of those dire bunnies again.

While she had her training, she didn’t bother returning back to the temple. Thanks to Frida teaching her how to survive on her own in the wilds, there was no need to.

Oh yes, Frida taught her that. They used to have their trips here, deep into the wild, untouched part of the mountain where she would command her to lift boulders and meditate under icy cold waterfalls. And at night, she would force her to cook and start a bonfire without her lifting a finger. At first, she didn’t like how a princess like her was forced to do such labor. She had Helen to take care of it for her after all. But, she quickly changed her mind. It was important for a future empress to learn as much as she could how the life of the average citizen was. Even those that lived up in the mountains like this.

She made her way back to the camp she had set up. She stripped off her dirty clothes, keeping them to be washed later. She then rummaged through her bag for clean ones, as well as her towel, before making her way to the nearby stream where she would take her morning bath. Stripping off her already sweaty clothing, she entered the chilly water without flinching. All thanks to Frida’s mountain training as well.

As she was beginning to enjoy herself, however, she heard the sound of leaves rustling and branches being stepped upon, followed by the sound of footsteps.

A human was fast approaching her location. Should she hurry up and dress herself?

Nah. It was their own fault for barging in like this after all.

Though of course, she grabbed her sword still. Better be safe than sorry after all. Even though she could kinda guess who it was just by the way they walked.

“There you are! I finally found you!”

It was Sara. The redheaded, twin tailed girl she was all too familiar with.

"Get dressed! We're leaving!"

"Leaving? What do you mean we're leaving?"

"Ars is missing! You gotta help me find him!"

"...Go away. You're disturbing my bath."

Fiora's reply was… dispassionate, to say the least. It wasn't the first time Ars had "disappeared", only for him to appear the next day. Sara had just missed him all day.

"I'm not lying! Some of the drunks in the village saw him heading to the west right after midnight, riding his horse! When they called out to him, he ignored them entirely!”

"So?"

"And there was a weird light coming from his house! On top of that, his mother swore she heard a female voice coming from his room!”

Now, the case started to pique her interest.

She climbed out of the small river, baring her full naked body in front of her rival. Still dripping with wetness, she continued her conversation with her.

“Oho? A weird light, you say? What kind of light is it exactly?”

“Apparently it’s a warm, yellow-ish light. It came down from the sky, falling right into his house. And could you please wear some clothes?! I don’t want to stare at those disgusting things of yours!”

Those disgusting things were her breasts, who were now in full view of the flat-chested girl.

Unfortunately for her, throughout these years, her own chest never really grew. Unlike Fiora’s, which grew quite significantly, making her quite the buxom young woman.

“Sheesh, what’s the fuss about?” She smirked. “We’re both girls, remember? And don’t tell me you don’t like these bouncy and firm hills?” She squeezed her left breast.

“Just wear your damn clothes already!”

“Alright, alright, don’t wet your knickers, little lady. I’m just going to.”

Fiora walked over to the nearby rock she had put her clothes on. A pair of teal skimpy panties, an ankle-length skirt with a left slit that reached all the way to her mid-thighs, a top with sleeves that went down only to her elbows, and her elbow length socks and mid-calf boots.

“You—you don’t wear a bra?”

“What for? This shirt is comfortable enough.”

“...You really are one perverted girl.”

—-------

After Fiora packed her things, the two made their way back down the mountain. She would need permission from Frida first before she would be allowed to descend to the village, seeing how she was supposed to be training and all. And since she actually had respect for her teacher, she wouldn’t just ghost her and go to the village straight away.

Back at the temple, they made their way to her room. Since she wasn’t on the field teaching, they figured she ought to be there instead.

Fiora knocked on the door. “Master Frida. Can I come in? I have something I want to ask.”

“Oh? Is that Fiora? I thought you’re still training. Are you finished already?” She heard her voice speaking from the inside.

“No! But Sara here told me that Ars disappeared. And she wanted me to help her. I guess I’m her only friend…” She added a snide comment, which Sara reacted by paying her a glare. It was kinda true though. Sara didn’t really have anyone she was close with other than Fiora and Ars. Even she wasn’t that close with her own teacher.

“...Oh, I see. Come in then!”

Fiora pushed the door open.

The room was just as she remembered it the last time she was here—a small, cramped wooden room with only a futon to sleep and a table/chair combo to work on. And her teacher was sitting on the latter, looking over a parchment with a couple more on said table.

“Excuse me…” Sara spoke meekly. She, on the other hand, had never entered her master’s room.

Fiora and Sara stood in front of Frida, who was still sitting down. There were no other chairs in the room so they had no other choice.

Frida put down her parchment before resting her chin above her hands.

“It’s time, I think, for you to return back to the outside world.” She glanced at Fiora.

“...I’m sorry?”

“Lady Esther came to me this morning. She told me that the light who stole Ars away—was the work of Saint Catherine.”

“Saint… Catherine?” Fiora was rendered speechless for a moment. “You mean the current head of the Milicis Church?”

“Yes.” Frida nodded. “I assume you’ve known about how the human states on the Demon Continent were recently conquered by the Wisdom Demon King?”

“Of course. I have my own eyes out there, you know.”

“Then, you should know that Lady Esther believes it’s a prelude—for the birth of a new Demon God.”

“And Ars.” She looked down, a wry smile adorning her face. “I believe he has been chosen as the next Legendary Hero.”

…

…

…

“W-what?!” Sara’s high-pitched voice filled the room. “What do you mean by Ars being chosen as the next Legendary Hero?”

“It’s exactly as you think it is.” She gave a grave look towards the redhead. “He will be the one to slay the new Demon God. And to do that, the Saint has called him to begin his journey.”

“B-but… they can’t just do that! Why would they choose him? He’s just a woodcutter! It doesn’t make sense! And what do you mean there’s going to be a new Demon God? Arthur already killed him a millenia ago!”

Fiora no longer listened to Sara and Frida’s conversation.

This revelation… she couldn’t make sense of it either.

She was the one with the blood of the Legendary Hero. But why was Ars chosen? If someone really was going to be a new Hero, that someone should be her. No one else qualified better than her.

Unless… there’s no such thing as the Hero’s Bloodline. It was all a lie perpetrated by her forefathers to justify their rule.

She left the room without a word. Once she was outside, she made her way back up to the mountain. But this time, not to the north where she had her training. She would go east instead, through the Caelesti Bridge, up to where Esther Solis lived.

She would meet her face to face and ask for her truth.

—-------

Tok.

The sound of water flowing through the small spring filled the air, only interrupted by the sound of a bamboo shoot hitting the rock. The shrine remained the very image of tranquility, just like the last time she saw it, which was a few years ago, when she first came here.

Fiora made her way to the front porch where Esther was sitting on the floor, enjoying her tea. After taking off her boots, she sat down cross-legged in front of her, not even waiting to be invited.

“You came here for your friend, correct?”

“Of course. What else would I come here for? I haven’t become a Virtuoso yet, if that’s what you’re asking me.”

The blind woman smiled, taking a sip of her cup. “Want some? It’s jasmine tea. It’s quite delicious, I assure you.”

“No thanks. I prefer coffee. And if I want tea, I’d take it with milk.” Fiora smiled back.

Esther giggled. “Ah, a royal taste. Quite different from a hermit like me, I’m afraid.”

Her smile vanished, replaced by her serious look.

“The world is turning. No longer it remained in its quagmire. It finally gained the push it needed to move on to its inevitable end.”

Fiora’s brows furrowed. “You’re saying the world is going to end? Because of the new Demon God? How do you even know a new one is coming? Just because some Demon King defeated a bunch of weak human countries it doesn’t mean he’s powerful enough to conquer the entire world like the Demon God did.”

“I will not fret if you do not believe me. But, the fate of your friend is intertwined with that truth.”

She stood up and walked off the porch, not even bothering to put on footwear, letting her bare feet touch the moist dirt.

“I’ve spoken to Gregory. He agrees with my assessment. That the light descending from the heavens was indeed the work of the Saint. And the only reason she will do something like this is if a Demon God is involved."

Fiora paused for a second, trying to remember who Gregory was.

Ah, that's right. He's the Grand Priest living in the village—the old coot Nicole stayed with before she left.

"I'll visit him then. That's fine with you, right?"

"Of course. You are free to leave the Order, Fiora Guinivere Pendragon. Chase after Ars if you so choose."

"And Sara?"

"She's free to go as well. Take care of her."

Fiora sighed. "I'm not her babysitter, you know."

Well, let's just hope she isn't a handful.

—----

Afterwards, Fiora descended back down over the bridge, where she met Sara, who seemed to have known she would be here. The twintail was standing with her arms folded, leaning on a tree.

"You're finished talking to her?" She looked up towards the swordswoman.

"Yes. Pack up your things. We've been given permission to chase after Ars. Though, judging by that bag near your feet, you already did." Fiora smiled.

"Hmph, I'm not an idiot. I know how your brain works."

"Good. Then, you should know where we're going next."

—-----

The pair descended the mountain, arriving at the village as the sun was sinking from the sky. They first made their way to Ars' house, where they spoke to his mother, who was understandably grieving for the disappearance of his son.

"Don't worry, ma'am." Sara patted her chest. "I promise you. I will bring back your son."

"Oh, thank you very much, Lady Sara! He really is lucky to have you as his friend!"

Fiora smirked. Friend? So much for you marrying him.

Afterwards, they made their way to Gregory's dwelling, which was the small, rundown church at the edge of the town. On the way, Sara told Fiora all about him—how he was this grumpy priest with a hunched back who loved to scare away kids with his appearance. And how most of the villagers tend to avoid him, due to his eccentricities.

“Right…” Well, that doesn't sound like a Grand Priest at all.

Arriving at the church, Fiora took the lead. She walked into the small building—the door was wide open—and was greeted by the sight of a man kneeling in front of a large statue—that being the statue of Milicis.

“Sorry to interrupt your prayers.” She spoke. “But we have some questions we would like for you to answer.”

“...Go away. The world is ending. And I will not suffer in your presence as I wait for the end, arrogant princess of the Empire.”

His voice was rough and gravely, fitting for a man of his age.

“So you know about me.” Fiora smirked, taking a seat on the nearby aisle chair beside him. “Did Nicole tell you?”

“Hmph. That naive girl actually believed your lies. King and queens and emperors—they are all the same. They only care about themselves. And their thrones.”

The man stood up, Thanks to his hunchback, his height was less than both Sara and Fiora. His face was awfully wrinkled and he had a large hooked nose that only added to his ugliness.

“Is it true?” Fiora continued, her arms folded under her chest. “That the light was the work of Saint Catherine?”

“It’s true.” He answered, still looking towards the statue. “I can feel it. It is a divine spell only she is capable of casting.”

“A Saint-level spell?”

“Yes. That is what the world calls it.”

He turned to face her at last.

“Do you wish to chase after him?”

“Well, she does.” Fiora pointed at Sara with her thumb. “But I suppose I can take a trip to the outside world, if what’s happening is true.”

“A futile effort.” He glared towards the redhead. “He’s now fulfilling his duty as the Hero. He won't return to you. You should just wait and pray for his safe return.”

“What?! I’m a swordsman too, you know! I can be of help to him!” Sara fired back, stamping one foot forward.

“No. You’re too weak. You can’t even win against a Demon Lord, at your current state. And a Demon God will be much, much more powerful than that.”

“Then I’ll train! I’ll grow even stronger than I am now!”

“Useless. Arthur and his companions didn’t become strong because they trained. They were strong because they were chosen. And you are not. So you are weak. And even if you were stronger, have you not read your history books? How the Demon God has a miasma surrounding him that would poison and kill everyone not chosen by the Heavenly Dragon?”

“Enough of this talk.” Fiora stood up, giving the priest an annoyed look. “Currently, all we wish is to have a chat with Ars. If he wishes to go anyway, then so be it. So tell me. Where is Saint Catherine calling him to? The Holy Land so he could be trained first by her? Or the Demon Continent, so he can defeat that Wisdom Demon Lord. Or perhaps, even the Magocracy? They just summoned an earthquake that shook their entire continent. There’s no way they’re not preparing for something big, whether it’s a war or something else.”

“...How should I know?” The old man looked away.

“You’re her Grand Priest. You should know her thoughts better than we do. I know that ritual you did in order for you to become a Grand Priest.”

The priest froze. “What did you just say?” He turned to face her, his crooked robe fluttering. “You… you know?”

“A whisper from the wind.” She smirked. “You drank her blood, didn’t you?”

Sara gasped. She looked at her friend as if she was mad.

“You—”

The old man looked like he was about to say something in retort but withdrew his tongue at the last time.

“...How did you know?”

“Well, I have my ways. I am a princess of the Holy Milicis Empire after all.” She smiled victoriously.

The truth was, she only accepted this rumor as truth after she asked Lunarya Silvermoon about it. All those years ago, when they had their spar, she managed to coax it out of her. Just from her surprised—and frightened—expression, she already knew she hit the mark.

As for how she learned of the rumor in the first place, it was thanks to Miriam Blanchimont, Nicole’s adoptive mother. She too was a Grand Priestess and she happened to make a visit to her house before she had to run away. And there, Helen did her work excellently, stealthing through her books and documents unnoticed.

And what she found was a secret book only to be read by Grand Priests and Priestesses.

She learned pretty much everything there was to learn about them, from their role in the Church, their duties, their names, and how they were supposed to act to their communities.

And there, she learned about the ritual they called Communion.

After a High Priest or Priestess fulfilled the requirements needed to be a Grand Priest or Priestess, they would have to present themselves to the current Saint of the Church. And there, a ritual would take place, where the Saint would shed her blood from her wrist and mix it with a glass of holy wine. And then, she would tell them to drink that wine, sealing their divine bond forever.

Drinking blood was, of course, a heretical thing to do. Not to mention it also counted as cannibalism, being human blood at all. So it was no surprise this practice was hidden from the world. If it ever leaked out, the masses would lose trust in the Church. Well, even more than they already were these days.

She planned to use this knowledge as a bargaining chip, in case a Grand Priest or Priestess she visited refused to take her side in the throne war. But only as a last, final resort. It could easily backfire on her, with her being branded as a heretic and hunted down by their inquisitors.

The old man sighed, taking a seat on the aisle like her. “I cannot tell you exactly where he is right now. That spell she used—it can project her being into every corner of the world. Meaning, she must have known of his existence beforehand. I believe the Heavenly Dragon Himself told her where to find him.”

“So?”

“So, if you wish to chase after him, I suggest you seek out another Grand Priest that is capable of communicating with Him. Ever since we partook in her blood, we should be able to do that. However, if you don’t devote your every waking existence to Him, your link weakens. And eventually, it snaps entirely.”

“Like you?”

The priest fell silent, averting his gaze from her. “...I hate Him. Or, to be more precise, I never can really love Him. To control Fate yet to allow so much suffering in the world… I could never really reconcile it.” He chuckled. “Unlike her, that naive fool.”

Fiora knew exactly who he was referring to.

“Well, we’ll be on our way. Thank you for the information.”

“Wait wait wait, where are we going then?”

“Lunarya Silvermoon. That all-too-confident woman shouldn’t have a crisis of faith like this old coot.”

As Fiora made her way to the church’s entrance, however, she suddenly stopped in her tracks, glancing backwards to the old priest, who was still sitting on his chair.

“The world will end. Did the Saint tell you that?”

“She told me everything through a dream,” he answered, looking back at the statue. “The Demon God is waking up soon and the world will be swallowed by darkness. And there’s nothing we can do other than praying for the Hero to succeed in his journey.”

“But the Demon God is nowhere to be seen. Yet she already named someone to be the next Hero. It doesn’t fit. I’m pretty sure a millenia ago, the world was already swallowed by darkness before the Hero came. So cheer up. The Hero might be able to defeat the Demon God this time around before letting him conquer half of the world.”

The priest did not respond.

—--------

“Sara, go buy us three horses. You got some money, right? If you don’t, just tell them that the Order will pay for it.” Fiora ordered once they left the church.

The moon was now high up in the sky. But it was no reason for them to delay their chase. She was certainly fit enough to ride a horse all night. And she imagined Sara was the same. She would be plagued with worry regarding her precious Ars after all.

“Three? But there’s only two of us.”

“My maid is coming along too. I’m going to fetch her right now.”

“What? Your maid? You brought a maid with you?! H-hey, don’t leave yet!”

While Fiora trained with the Order, Helen did her own training—on the unofficial “offshoot” of the Order. While the Order trained their students mostly with swords, her school, on the other hand, taught its students the way of the dagger, bow, and other non-sword weapons. The teacher even wielded a harp into combat.

The name of the place was The Martial Arts School of The Cassowary. And it was located at the southern edge of the village.

Well, this place is deserted. They don’t do night time training? How disappointing.

There was nary a soul  in the tiny courtyard she was now in.

And that paint… How disgustingly gaudy.

Unlike the other houses in the village, which mostly went with white, the school was painted in pretty much every color of the rainbow.

She knocked on the door, expecting no reply.

Only to be met face-to-face by her maid.

“Y-Your Highness?”

“Hello, Helen.” She smirked. “It’s time for us to depart.”

“W-what do you mean?”

“I’ll explain later. Now, pack up your things and get ready. It’s urgent and I’d rather have us depart as fast as we could.”

“My dear Helen, who is that on the door?”

A melodic male voice could be heard coming from behind the maid. To Fiora’s raised eyebrows, a pair of arms wrapped around Helen’s waist as a man hugged her from behind.

“T-this is…”

“Ah, you’re that Fiora she’s always talking about, aren’t you? Happy to meet you! My name is Clem. And I am the proprietor of this establishment.”

He released her and walked forward, kneeling in front of Fiora before taking her hand, giving it a kiss.

The man was wearing a white button-up shirt and black trousers. And the shirt was unbuttoned in a way that exposed a generous amount of his abs. He certainly had nice muscles, Fiora thought. She expected that crybaby pervert to have similar muscles once they met again. And his blonde hair did remind her of him a little.

Fiora’s eyes looked back at her maid. Helen could only avert her gaze, blushing with embarrassment.

“Well well well.” The swordsman’s eyes glinted mischiveously. “It seems my maid has been having a romance during my absence. And without telling me, her mistress.”

“I-it’s not what you think, Mi—”

“It’s exactly what you think, Mademoiselle!” He stood up, his face practically sparkling under the moonlight. “She’s my best student! And a great lover as well! Why, we were about to perform a little lovemaking before you knocked!”

Helen’s face was burning with shame while Fiora’s firm mask nearly broke as she tried holding back her laughter.

“So, how about it? Want to join us? It must be destiny that you—”

The sound of steel flew through the air.

A knife now rested right at his throat.

“Don’t you dare say anything more with that filthy tongue of yours.”

It was Helen. The moment she heard him making his lewd comment to Fiora, her maid instinct sprung up.

“I-it was a joke! It was a joke, my dear Helen!”

“Save your jokes for yourself! I’m leaving!”

She punched him in the stomach without mercy. Then, with a huff, she left him kneeling on the ground in pain.

“Heh.” Fiora chuckled at him. “You might be able to seduce your way to her bed but that doesn’t mean you can break our bond.”

“Still, for her to be seduced by someone like you… I have to speak to her on how to choose her men.”

She knelt down and whispered, “I just hope you haven’t made her pregnant. Or else I might just have to kill you.”

“I-I haven’t! I haven’t!” He looked up and waved his hands. “She always takes her herbs!”

“Good.” Fiora smiled, standing back up. “I know she’s the prudent sort.”

“Still, I wonder.” Her eyes narrowed as she folded her arms under her chest. “Have you really been teaching her properly? You kinda look weak. No wonder the Order kicked you out.”

“They didn’t kick me out! I left on my own! They don’t think a harp is a proper weapon!”

“How do you use a harp as a weapon anyway?”

“Through aura, duh! I can transfer my aura to the sound of the harp, attacking my enemies from a distance! You can’t do that with a sword!”

“Actually, we can. With aura too.”

“Oh shut up! You know that’s not what I meant!” He huffed.

Their conversation was cut short as Helen returned with two suitcases on each of her arms.

“Let’s go, Miss. And goodbye, Master Richard.” She gave a pity glance towards him.

—------

As they made their way to the stables where Sara should be waiting, Fiora couldn’t help herself. She just had to ask what her maid saw in him.

“Well…” Her cheeks turned red once more. “He’s… He sang to me. Made a song about me too.”

“Ahhh.” Fiora clacked her tongue. “No wonder you’re taken by him. So many noblewomen get weak on the knees by those bards singing songs about their beauty. And you are no exception.”

“...Was it good though?”

“Excuse me, Miss?”

“The lovemaking. Was it good?”

“Y-you can’t ask me that, Miss!”

“Oh please. We are both adults here. I think it’s time for me to learn about that kind of stuff, no?” She smirked. “And since you’re now experienced in the matter…”

“Hey! Over here! What took you so long?”

Their conversation was interrupted by Sara, who was waving her hands from a distance.

“I’ll ask you later.” Fiora whispered. “I expect a full, detailed report, alright?”

The maid could not protest.

—---

And thus, Fiora and co. began their travels.

Even though she had yet to be as strong as she wanted, Fiora decided it was more worthwhile to go back to the world and see what had changed during her absence.

And besides, she already got her magic sword. And she only needed to train a bit more until she could equal a Virtuoso-rank swordsman. That—she could do on the road.

Under the cover of the night, three women, all cloaked in brown, departed from Orthard on their horses.

The return of the princess, nay, Empress, was nigh at hand.