Published: September 6, 2025
“This requires Lady Dietlinde’s approval.”
In her office, Dietlinde wearily stared at the towering pile of documents brought by the civil officials while signing each one with a magic tool pen that transformed her mana into ink. She genuinely thought to herself how she should have already acquired Gultrishite and become the next Zent, so being bothered by such trivial affairs was beneath her.
Having managed to attend the lords’ council at the noble academy, which was difficult to reach the central area, she had expected to gain more from it. Yet, every investigation Dietlinde conducted was repeatedly obstructed by the royal family. It was frustrating.
...If only she could have examined that underground archive, she might have understood something.
Recalling the insulting words from the king’s third wife, who had sneered, “Perhaps you should start by studying ancient languages,” Dietlinde’s mood soured further. Then, thinking of Traocval's command to “first provide Ferdinand with a secret room,” she grew even more irritated.
...“When you visit at the funeral, make sure the royal decree is being carried out,” he said?
Traocval, who issued such an outrageous order to grant a secret room to Ferdinand—her fiancé staying there—seemed unhinged enough to be unfit for the throne. Dietlinde knew that unless she obtained Gultrishite soon and rightfully became Zent, Jurgenschmidt would surely fall due to an incompetent king who assumed the title of Zent without the mana stone.
...What a predicament. The future of Jurgenschmidt rests on my shoulders.
Recalling the words from the Central Temple officials, Dietlinde sighed softly and muttered, “What a problem.” Lost in thought, she paused her signing, unaware that the civil servant waiting beside her to finish signing was likely thinking, “We’re the ones troubled here.”
“...Huh?”
Suddenly, a shiver ran down Dietlinde’s arm, sending goosebumps across her skin and a chill down her spine. It felt similar to the chills from a fever, but she was not unwell, nor was it cold as summer approached.
Along with the chill, the word “boundary gate” flashed through her mind, and she immediately understood what was happening. Someone was trying to force their way into the boundary gate without Aub’s permission. This was a sensation only the lord family supplying mana to the foundation magic could detect.
Since Aub Arensbach’s death, the Arensbach side could no longer close the boundary gate. And there was only one such gate in Arensbach that could be breached without any notification from the knights guarding it: the boundary gate connected to the national border gate on the sea.
“I’m heading back to my chambers immediately. Martina, please prepare my riding uniform and veil. It seems I must check on the boundary gate. Gather my close aides.”
Setting the pen down with a soft click, Dietlinde stood up. She gave a sharp glare to the startled civil servant and said, “You’re just in the way.”
“Did you not hear me? I must investigate the boundary gate’s situation. It’s probably a messenger from Lanzenave.”
Upon hearing “Lanzenave messenger,” the civil servant quickly gathered the sorted documents—processed and unprocessed—and hurriedly left, likely to report to Ferdinand. The civil officials always consulted Ferdinand fully regarding official business, which was why no one dared to refuse even strange orders from the royal family.
Ignoring her own lack of expertise in administration, Dietlinde inwardly cursed the incompetence of the civil officials as she returned to her chambers. There, Martina and the other attendants quickly brought her riding uniform. She changed and had a veil placed over her face to shield against the sun, then immediately went out onto the balcony.
Her gaze stretched out over the shimmering blue sea. Spotting a small black object attempting to enter the boundary gate—barely visible to the naked eye—Dietlinde spurred her mount forward.