Private Tutor to the Duke’s Daughter: Volume 14 (eBook)

Riku Nanano (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2024
250 Seiten
J-Novel Club (Verlag)
978-1-7183-8624-2 (ISBN)

Infos

Stranded deep beneath the Sealed Archive, Allen faces down the 'angel' possessing his student Stella. Physically and magically exhausted, the young tutor's chances seem slim without help. Unfortunately, rescue won't be forthcoming-his friends on the surface have their own crisis to solve. A rampaging Great Tree threatens to engulf the royal capital in deadly foliage, and the kingdom's armies rally to the city's defense. The dukes have sworn to avert disaster at any cost-including Stella's life.

To save their tutor and their friend, Allen's remaining students must brave an ancient and secret route beneath the palace and uncover the secrets of a princess erased from history-and they have competition. Church agents race to claim the angel for their own sinister ends, and one wears a familiar face. Can Allen bring himself to face an old friend from beyond the grave?

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Stranded deep beneath the Sealed Archive, Allen faces down the "e;angel"e; possessing his student Stella. Physically and magically exhausted, the young tutor's chances seem slim without help. Unfortunately, rescue won't be forthcoming-his friends on the surface have their own crisis to solve. A rampaging Great Tree threatens to engulf the royal capital in deadly foliage, and the kingdom's armies rally to the city's defense. The dukes have sworn to avert disaster at any cost-including Stella's life.To save their tutor and their friend, Allen s remaining students must brave an ancient and secret route beneath the palace and uncover the secrets of a princess erased from history and they have competition. Church agents race to claim the angel for their own sinister ends, and one wears a familiar face. Can Allen bring himself to face an old friend from beyond the grave?

Textauszug

The battle-hardened knight’s shoulders shook as his sobs echoed through the old church. At last, he dried his eyes and stood, murmuring, “My thanks. Your words touch me deeply.”

“For the Saint and the Holy Spirit!” the lesser knights chorused, striking their breastplates and scabbards before filing out of the church.

For Her Holiness the Saint!

I was still praying to the one I served, who had lowered herself into the chair, when I heard a snort.

“Another transparent ploy. I see you haven’t changed,” said a young man’s voice. I felt a surge of annoyance, although I didn’t let it show. The newcomer hadn’t let me detect so much as a hint of his presence.

I won’t deny his skill, but how dare he insult Her Holiness?!

Suppressing my darker impulses, I forced myself to calmly cast wards of silence and perception-blocking. “Apostle Io,” I said over my shoulder, “should you not be keeping watch around this holy citadel?”

Atop a stack of crates, legs swaying, sat a diminutive demisprite sorcerer. His long white hair framed golden eyes. A pristine white robe covered limbs as dainty as a girl’s, and a witch hat of the same hue adorned with a black, eight-petaled flower perched on his head. His metal staff hovered in midair.

Io “Black Blossom” Lockfield, second of the apostles, had crushed the heart of the impregnable Fortress of Seven Towers single-handed and assassinated its daring commander Robson Atlas, who had caused Her Holiness concern. In the city of water, he had handily stalled some of the kingdom’s mightiest warriors. But for all his magical prowess, I found him insufferable, not to mention haughty. I’d lost count of how many times I’d thought of killing him.

“Fool,” Io scoffed, as usual. “I’ve already surrounded it with more wards than you can count. Only the Hero, the Dark Lord, or one of those pesky dragons could break these defenses in a frontal assault. The Saint doesn’t need any other protection—not that loathsome vampiress, not the Kokonoe swordswoman off in Lalannoy with that Atlasian spearwoman who lost her country to the humans, and not the other four apostles scattered all over the map. Was that clear enough for you, Least of Us?”

It took me a moment to force out an “I beg your pardon.”

The “loathsome vampiress,” the legendary Alicia “Crescent Moon” Coalfield, was recuperating in the pontiff’s domain. Her Holiness’s servant Viola Kokonoe; the third-ranked apostle, Levi Atlas; and the other members of our order had each undertaken missions requiring the utmost secrecy. And following the defeat at Rostlay, I had been judged “insufficient protection” if Her Holiness were to come under attack during her travels.

I hope Stella Howard rots in hell.

While I ground my teeth, Io hopped off his crate. “Don’t you agree?” he offhandedly asked a dark corner. “Give us your thoughts, mighty Prime Apostle and master of Falling Star.”

A patch of shadow dissolved to reveal two men. One looked young, wore a white robe trimmed with azure, and held a timeworn wooden staff—the head of our order, known as the “Sage.” I’d barely exchanged two words with him, and I didn’t know what he looked like under his hood, but he had Her Holiness’s trust. The other, a tall man, wore an apostle’s robe trimmed with dark green.

Who’s this?

“I concur, problem child of the Glenbysidhes,” the Sage replied before I could reach a conclusion. His remark struck a nerve, judging by Io’s disgruntled sniff.

The demisprite sorcerer couldn’t stand any mention of his origins. He lowered the brim of his white witch hat and changed the subject. “I assume that’s your replacement for our pitiful, doddering number four who let Lalannoy’s pet freak get the best of him? I don’t care about the least of us, but he’d better not get in my way.”

“Idris has fallen?!” I blurted out.

Her Holiness had personally chosen us seven apostles, and our duties might well include dying for her grand vision. Still, while Idris, the fourth of our number, had been even more arrogant and less likable than Io, his ability went without question. The ancient vampire from an eastern land had lost his dominant right arm, leaving him far from the height of his power, but I’d still never expected to hear of his defeat.

The prime apostle nodded without acknowledging my shudder. His lips curled slightly. “I’ll vouch for him. After all...” Shadows swelled in the church. A cloud must have covered the sun. “This man killed a four-winged devil with his own hands.”

I gasped, struck speechless. Even Io seemed impressed.

“Well now,” he murmured, “a devil slayer in this day and age.”

Devils, implacable enemies of mortalkind, numbered among the mightiest beings in our godless world. And this man had killed one?

“If what you say is true, I can understand giving him our vacant fourth seat,” Io continued. “If. He must have led quite an unusual life to— Hm? What’s this mana?” The second-ranked apostle fell silent squinting at the mystery man. What had he noticed? I couldn’t deny his knowledge or skill in such matters.

Before I could make up my mind, soft early-winter sunlight streamed into the church once more. Little birds slipped through gaps in the broken stained glass and alighted on Her Holiness. I could have been looking at a painting.

“Well, no matter,” Io said, rubbing his forehead. “I’ll take you at your word for the present. So, where will you send our new number four? Lalannoy again, I suppose?”

“That decision isn’t mine to make.”

The words had barely left the prime apostle’s mouth when my silencing and perception-blocking spells vanished—along with him and his companion, leaving Io and me the only apostles in the church. I couldn’t begin to guess how he’d done it.

I was still reeling from the gulf between our powers when Her Holiness turned to me. “Edith, to my side.”

“A-At once,” I replied. Her gentle voice made me feel like a powerless little girl again. Under his breath, Io muttered a disgusted “Fool,” but I ignored him, nervously approaching the altar and bending one knee.

“Your hand,” said the Saint.

“O-Of course.”

Hesitantly, I extended one hand, and tender fingers closed around it.

“Y-Your Holiness?! Your sacred hands are, er, that is...” I faltered, too shocked for words.

Oh, what an honor.

“You needn’t fear,” Her Holiness continued, love in the eyes like precious jewels I glimpsed beneath her hood. “No one here would ever dream of harming me.”

“Y-Your Holiness.”

She touched my cheek next, and my whole body burned. I couldn’t contain the sudden flare of heat. In my eyes, Her Holiness seemed more divine than any god.

“You’ll scare away the sufferers if you keep up that fierce scowl,” she said. “Try to smile for me. Please?”

“Y-Yes, p-please forgive me,” I replied, aware of my blushing cheeks and pounding heart. The awkward grin I somehow managed garnered a “Thank you” from Her Holiness. Body and soul awash in ecstasy, I couldn’t muster a word in response. I thought I caught Io mumbling something behind me, but what did I care?

(“Unbelievable.”)

Footfalls alerted me to the knights’ return. I looked up to find the one I served radiant with pure-white mana, left hand on her heart.

“Come,” she said, “as always, let us save as many wounded souls as we possibly can. You’ll help me, won’t you, Edith?”

✽

“Now, Your Holiness, if you’ll excuse me. Please have no fear that anyone will interrupt you at your prayers—Io and I will keep a close guard,” the girl said, bowing to me with the same puppylike expression she’d worn when we first met. What an amusing contrast she made to Io’s grimace.

“Thank you, Edith,” I replied in the mild tones of the church’s living Saint. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. Or you, of course, Io.”

“Y-You do me too much honor!” the girl exclaimed, while Io only snorted.

The sturdy church doors thudded shut behind them. A barrier so potent I could see it with my naked eyes went up around me. Once I removed my hood and dispelled my perception-blocking, the mana lamps and moonlight cast my silhouette on the wall—complete with gray-haired ears and tail.

The church despised beastfolk, yet it revered me as its Saint. No matter how many years passed, the absurdity never lost its humor. The knights I’d saved that very day might take their own lives if they ever found out. I giggled, my old pendant bouncing as I twirled in place, toying with the fantasy.

If they’re all going to die anyway, I’d better find them even nicer battlefields to do it on!

“So, has anything happened I should know about?” I asked my accomplice once I’d had my fill of mocking laughter.

Shadows wavered, and the self-styled “Sage” revealed himself, staff in hand. Never a man to waste words, he cut to the chase without so much as pushing back his hood.

“The summoning circle I left in the Sealed Archive eleven years ago activated. Someone in the kingdom must...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 23.12.2024
• Reihe/Serie: Private Tutor to the Duke’s Daughter
• Illustrationen: Cura
• Übersetzer: William Varteresian
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Romane / Erzählungen
• Schlagworte: Academy • action • aristocrats • Comedy • Harem • Light Novel • Magic
• ISBN-10: 1-7183-8624-9 / 1718386249
• ISBN-13: 978-1-7183-8624-2 / 9781718386242