Academy Saintess of My Chūni Writing Days

Elves are weird.

Putting aside the whole “old geezer” talk, and even the intention of designing their settings to look strange in human eyes, it’s clear that there’s something off about the elves.

Especially the higher-ups controlling the elves are bizarre.

Typically, they flaunt their old-fashioned authority, yet they leave the most important parts so carelessly as if they don’t matter at all.

For example, take their festival, Rechmir. The most significant part of that festival, which lasts for several days, is the ritual known as ‘Rechmir.’ Indeed, the very purpose of this festival is that ritual.

It’s fine that only the ritual leader can see the process of the ritual. I mean, I can understand that.

Even if it’s the most crucial part of an important event, if it’s deemed a sacred procedure that must not be revealed to the public, it can be kept hidden. Like how the selection process of the Pope is not disclosed to the public, or how certain parts of the British Queen’s coronation are not broadcasted.

There will always be certain aspects that some people cannot compromise on, especially if it concerns religious procedures.

But seriously, shouldn’t there be some kind of procedure during the ritual?

Just putting the ritual leader on the altar and waiting? Honestly, I found that hard to understand.

Maybe it’s because this world has real magic, psychic powers, and holy power that stems from faith. In a place where none of that exists, to appear sacred, one must act and chant, “I’m doing something holy,” to seem even slightly sacred.

Or at least, there should be something about “things you shouldn’t do.”

Like, don’t touch Arlil, or don’t step off the ritual leader’s platform, something along those lines.

…Well, there’s no point in nitpicking at this point.

I woke up early and arrived at the ritual leader’s place. Just as Ramihi promised, there was a cushion placed on the platform. I thought they might have picked up some cheap cushion from a dollar store since they left me alone throughout the festival, but surprisingly, it was a plush, finely embroidered cushion—not some tacky piece.

Do you even consider what’s happening, elves?

Then again, they probably do. They are elves, after all.

Given the chance, should I complain to Arlil?

That was back when I still had my wits about me.

“……”

It was Ramihi who guided me here. Rene wasn’t qualified to enter the altar. Moreover, it’s a principle that anyone eligible to participate in the event, even ordinary elves, should join. It seems she got up earlier than me and left.

I’m not sure if the elves praying outside will have any effect.

Maybe that’s their version of hollow rituals.

They proudly flaunt their status in front of others and adorn themselves, yet completely disregard everything when no one is watching.

Well—sigh, what more can I grumble about?

I should just finish my tasks and go home.

*

“Looks like it’s begun.”

Elder Krah Kihmuhir muttered. His gaze was directed towards the branches of Arlil, which seemed to reach the sky. Even during the day, a gentle golden glow emanated from it, shining even brighter now.

Not just somewhat brighter, but its entire manifestation had changed.

It wasn’t a light shining from a lamp; it was the light of holy power traveling up the stem. If you saw a tree drawing water in real-time, it would look like this.

Majestic and sacred.

A sight not seen in just under fifty years. The saint who visited here fifty years ago had passed away just two years after performing her miracle. Since then, no one could be called a saint, and thus, they hadn’t been able to witness such a sight for that long.

They had just been maintaining Arlil with that thing they call holy water to prevent it from withering.

Even though Krah had reached an age where emotions wouldn’t sway him, if he saw that sight and felt nothing, he might as well be a lifeless stone.

“The title of saint might just be true,” he murmured.

“Yeah, although I didn’t believe it when I heard the rumors of miracles, it seems the church’s words were indeed factual.”

Krah had never actually seen a miracle, but he knew its effects on the human body. They said that if a person accepted the immense holy power—whether the goddess they believed in really existed, or if it was merely an illusion created by their collective consciousness—their body would collapse under the strain.

Normally, they harness the power of magic, unconsciously turning their mana into holy power.

“Tsk.”

As Krah pondered about utilizing magic, he clicked his tongue lightly.

Elves might be highly sensitive to holy power, but they were equally susceptible to mana. Back before they migrated to this world and established their own independent nation, the elves regarded mana as a undesirable thing.

Of course, they acknowledged that mana could be useful. They just couldn’t utilize it themselves.

Because of that, there were groups that worshipped demons back in the time of the elven kingdom.

Krah could no longer remember those days, which were far too long ago for anyone to recall.

Thus, the elves did not harbor good feelings toward humans.

Every physical capability surpassed that of humans. While humans excel in endurance, that’s only because elves can’t muster their full power in a single burst. If it came down to a fight, elves could end a human before they could even utilize that so-called strength.

But because of that, humans developed ways to obliterate their foes without having to rely on such physical abilities.

Elves are superior.

Indeed, each individual capability surpasses humans.

But humans are thriving. Not the elves hiding quietly in a corner, desperately trying to divert humans’ attention away.

And there’s a domain where humans undeniably exceed elves.

Humans can wield mana, practically.

Though they might not be as responsive to holy power, humans possess bodies that can endure mana. Meanwhile, elves summon and wield holy power through methods that no human has ever thought of.

Just as you can see right now.

I wonder how the saint is behaving inside there.

Is she kneeling, eyes closed, hands clasped in prayer? Has she set aside her reckless behavior since coming here and now displays a pious attitude as she prays to their “goddess?”

Someone who seeks the power of a “great being” distinct from themselves, in the sanctuary where their god is like none other. Not an elf, and certainly not of noble lineage, but a mere orphan of humble origins.

There’s a reason why the elder council keeps the sanctuary where the rituals are performed away from the public.

“Well, I suppose we can worry less.”

In response to the elder’s words, Krah nodded.

“Exactly. If the saint lives for a long time, she’ll be able to protect Arlil for a long time too.”

Simply maintaining it wouldn’t ultimately save Arlil. Arlil requires as much holy power as it produces. Sprinkling holy water will eventually reach its limits, and over a long time, Arlil will slowly wither away.

In the end, self-sufficiency without external aid is impossible.

Yet, it’s easy to fantasize along those lines.

What if the elves decided that Arlil wasn’t necessary?

If they were satisfied living under the church—

Then that would be the end for the “elves.” They’d become pitiful beings living parasitically in human society without ever intending to return.

Perhaps the human government is aware of the need for continuous assistance.

“Indeed, it’s best to act when opportunities arise, wouldn’t you say?”

“……”

Krah shot a frosty glare at Lehmir, who seemed reluctant to give up. Lehmir flinched slightly but kept talking.

“We can’t know if the saint will live long, can we? After all, the last saint reportedly perished after confronting a demon, bringing forth that phenomenon called a miracle.”

“I might have mentioned it before.”

Krah opened his mouth.

“There exists a line that should never be crossed, no matter what happens. Even if the opponent is not an elf.”

“If you’re worried about the politics, that’s no problem. According to tradition, when Arlil fully grows—”

“Didn’t you just say this was our homeland not long ago, and now you’re bringing up ancient knowledge? Let me ask you, do you really think that knowledge will be accurate without exaggeration? What proof do you have that it won’t be mistaken? How can you be sure the saint will have the ability to nurture Arlil to that extent?”

“That’s—”

“Enough.”

Krah cut Lehmir off.

“Moderation is key in everything. Isn’t that right?”

The elder said this with a smile, and Lehmir bit his lip in frustration.

Krah knew what Lehmir was trying to convey.

In the past, the reason elves could build and command vast empires despite being unable to generate holy power themselves was that they walked under the vast shadow of Arlil, the roots of which spread everywhere across the world.

Elves, constantly replenished with holy power, were strong.

Yes, perhaps they could somewhat withstand human attacks.

Yes, somewhat.

It’s not just about how powerful the weapon is or how well it can block it.

Krah remembered a time when he lived in the human capital as “Kihmuhir.”

On holidays, the streets were packed with humans, leaving no room to stand. Swarms of humans gathering for festivals. Humans filling the battlefield, humans, humans, humans.

There are humans in abundance. Meanwhile, the number of elves barely surpasses ten thousand.

Among those, some were exiled from Arlil’s shadow, while others knew the truth and left voluntarily.

Could all remaining elves unite and fend off humans?

No, if humans withdrew from the battlefields of elven territories, could the elves fend off the endlessly incoming demons and beasts?

If elves nurtured Arlil indefinitely, would humans just sit back and watch as Arlil’s roots started to invade the world? Would the church remain idle too?

No matter how many times he thought about it, even in his optimistic thoughts, Krah could only envision destruction.

“Opportunity will come someday. Whether we seize it now, it will eventually arrive.”

And anyway, the saint will never be able to fully utilize her powers.

For there’s a quite fatal flaw with Arlil, which has been transplanted.

*

First, I started by sitting and praying.

Well, while I called it praying, it was more like pretending to pray, really.

Since I had certainty in the goddess and even wielded a body created by her, I could freely use holy power.

But, how should I put this…

Perhaps it’s because of the essence of the concept I carry, I often adopted postures characteristic of clergy when engaging in faith-related actions. Such as praying or meditating with my eyes closed.

Did adopting such a posture lead to me producing more and better holy power? I’m honestly not sure.

Still, there’s a feeling associated, isn’t there? Since I obtained the title, I should live up to it. Many people align their image with their profession, don’t they?

…Truth be told, I really didn’t know how I should be sitting here other than doing just that.

Lack of procedure, and no intervention—that’s how it goes. After being drilled for years in a rigid educational environment, struggling to fit my body through the narrow doorway of a small company, I felt lost every time I heard “Do as you please.”

When someone says do as you please, it should be during breaks. Hearing that during work makes it tough to figure out what to do.

As I sulked internally, I felt a slight brightness before my eyes.

When I opened my eyes, I found radiant light gathering in my hands.

See? Even if I don’t think about Ariel, holy power flows out like this.

That’s why I’m here. Because I can do what others can’t.

Not that I want to take it back.

It’s better than being totally useless, yet the nuisances remain nuisances.

So, what now?

Is that all? Can I just keep sitting like this?

I looked up at Arlil, but there was nothing that looked different.

Hmm.

Should I really do something?

There’s no device on the stone slab I’m sitting on. If it’s not absorbing holy power on its own, then…

Am I supposed to figure all this out too?

Thinking about it again makes me want to scream.

…But then again, there wasn’t much explanation when I went to burst my magic point either. I just acted instinctively. Maybe that is the norm in this world. Or perhaps it’s instinctive, like a child taking their first steps.

It might be different for everyone.

After a moment of thought, I stretched my hands forward. Isn’t it enough to inject holy power into Arlil? Just doing like I did when I injected holy power into other places is enough.

“……”

I stretched both hands out, palms open towards Arlil, and then closed my eyes, concentrating my mind on my hands.

My eyelids began to glow bright behind closed eyes, and I felt the sensation in my fingertips expanding.

The hands were in their original place, but the sensation was extending forward—

Before long, I felt something touching the tips of my fingers.

It felt like I was touching a well-treated wooden panel. It felt different from touching raw wood.

So this is Arlil.

With my eyes still closed, I navigated my senses, feeling around the plane to find something ‘to hold.’

Eventually, I found something under my fingers.

I grasped what resembled a doorknob with both hands and opened it.

*

…Wow, I didn’t expect this.

As soon as I opened the ‘door’, everything before my eyes turned bright white.

I don’t remember having my eyes open.

No, I don’t remember standing like this either.

When I looked around, all I could see was a white, white space.

A space with no distinction between walls, floor, or ceiling; the kind you’d expect to fall into if the protagonist in a movie or animation died or lost consciousness.

…Am I dead?

No way.

I opened and clenched my fists. Everything felt perfectly fine. Though, well…

Oh, I see.

It’s more of a feeling extending from my fingertips rather than ‘the sense of my hands.’

So… I’m not dead, but this is a type of space within consciousness.

It wouldn’t be my consciousness. After all, I’m the one who ‘opened the door and entered.’

So, this must be Arlil’s inner realm.

“Hmmm.”

I crossed my arms and looked around. Even my body wasn’t visible. When I touched myself, I could feel it. Thank goodness, I was still wearing clothes.

…Well, fine. There’s nothing progressive about just standing here. I have to do something to resolve the situation, right?

So, shall I try walking?

Taking a step forward, I exclaimed, “Ugh!”

I fell flat on my face.

“Ow…”

Just because I can’t see the floor doesn’t mean there isn’t one, and not being able to see anything doesn’t mean there aren’t any obstacles.

Somehow, something snagged my feet.

“……”

So, it’s not bright here; it’s dark. It’s just not visible because it’s there.

I didn’t want to stand up and hurt myself, so I concentrated my holy power on my fingertips to create a light sphere. Thankfully, it seems my consciousness is properly connected, and there’s no issue using holy power.

“Okay.”

The light made of holy power illuminated the surroundings.

The very dark white space receded in response to the light. It wasn’t a black void without light; it was a bright, white darkness that covered the consciousness, retreating from the light emitting.

I adjusted the position of the light sphere to be a bit higher.

The light radiating from the sphere spread downwards, illuminating the ground.

“Eew.”

An exclamation escaped my lips.

This place looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in decades.

The image resembled elven homes. The ground, appearing to be crafted from wood, revealed its wooden frame.

However, dust piled high made it impossible to claim the space was clean.

Dust covered my body too, and I brushed it away with my hand.

With the dust accumulation, I could see where I had been standing and the path I walked. Though, as I stumbled forward on my first step, I clearly didn’t get very far.

That region was clean of dust.

So, I immediately understood what I had tripped over.

It was a shoe belonging to someone.

One that was still being worn by someone else.

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