Chapter 1 Episode 2: Acquisition of Skills

  Even after entering the orphanage, the two of them spent their days wielding swords.

  Seneca remained as tomboyish as ever, while Lucius was still the shy and reserved one.

  However, they had learned to get along with others, even if just a little.

  Sister Cire and the head of the orphanage took great care of them.

  The orphanage was retively well-off, and they seldom cked for food or clothing.

  Kito's family had survived, though their vilge had been destroyed, and they had moved to Baetica.

  Seneca would occasionally sneak out of the orphanage to meet Kito.

  Though Kito's family seemed to be struggling, they were all pushing forward with a positive spirit, and Seneca always found courage in their determination.

  At times, she would go hunting with Lucius, contributing to the orphanage's food supply. Two years passed in this way.

  ...

  At the age of ten, children were granted their skills.

  Once a year, on the day of the Moon’s Blessing, they would go to the nearby temple.

  The moment of acquiring their skills had finally arrived.

  The thought of it made Seneca's heart race with excitement.

  It was said that eighty percent of children inherited skills simir to those of their parents.

  Thus, Seneca had assumed she would receive either a swordsmanship or magic skill.

  While she was nervous about the remaining twenty percent, who might receive different skills, she had already decided in her heart to become an adventurer.

  She had made a promise with Lucius, after all.

  Despite this, Seneca wasn’t overly worried.

  At just ten years old, she possessed magical power comparable to a first-css mage.

  If she were to receive a magical skill, she could perhaps combine it with her swordsmanship, making her even more formidable. She eagerly anticipated the possibilities.

  Lucius was equally nervous.

  His swordsmanship had reached such a level that Seneca could no longer keep up with him in combat.

  He had sparred with the town’s soldiers and had been praised for his bright future.

  Lucius would be happy with any skill, whether it was recovery magic or swordsmanship.

  What mattered most was that he wanted the power to protect and save others.

  He desired the ability to defend his strong but sometimes fragile and sensitive friend.

  Thus, every night, he prayed to the moon.

  "Please grant me the power to protect Seneca."

  "Even without extraordinary abilities, may I be able to help those I cherish."

  His sincere prayers seemed to reach beyond the heavens, touching the shimmering stars themselves.

  ...

  The children from the town gathered at the temple.

  One child, who had fallen ill, had come ter, at the age of eleven.

  Once a child turned ten, it no longer mattered when they received their skill, though most children would attend the first avaible ceremony.

  The time came.

  The bishop of the temple began to speak, but the content of his words was so difficult that neither Seneca nor Lucius, nor even Kito, could understand them.

  Soon, the bishop began to chant something that sounded almost like a song.

  It would be some time before Seneca realised that this was a special incantation for magic.

  As the bishop recited his blessings, the ground of the temple began to glow faintly.

  The light flickered slowly, interacting with the children’s bodies.

  Seneca could feel her heartbeat thumping strongly, and it grew louder and more powerful with each passing moment.

  But it did not feel unpleasant.

  The bishop's voice grew louder, becoming more melodious as if he were singing.

  At a certain point, Seneca felt a heavy, almost crushing sensation spread through her body.

  At the same moment, a soft, beautiful voice rang in her head.

  [You have been granted a skill.]

  When the bishop’s magic concluded, the majority of the children colpsed to the ground, exhausted.

  ...

  After the skill ceremony, the priests began to assess the skills one by one.

  Until this process was completed, no one was allowed to leave the temple.

  Seneca and Lucius were near the back of the line, silently waiting, with nothing much to talk about.

  Kito stood quietly behind them.

  From somewhere in the distance, they could hear the joyous cries of children. Occasionally, there was a sigh, but such sounds were rare.

  Seneca thought it was only natural—the noises varied in volume, after all.

  A skill was a great blessing.

  Everyone desired to receive a rare or unique ability. Yet, most people would acquire a more ordinary skill. That’s why the priests would encourage children to accept their skill with gratitude and strive to make the most of it.

  The talent for skills was apparent, but no matter what power one received, it was crucial to know how to use it effectively and to continue improving.

  Having a skill could certainly allow someone to progress quickly, but how far one could go remained uncertain. The difference between early development and true potential was a separate issue altogether.

  Still, it was also true that early success made it easier to obtain good training.

  The appraisal was to be done first by Seneca.

  Before the crystal, which was as rge as Seneca’s own head, stood an elderly priest.

  With a beckoning gesture, the priest called Seneca to step forward.

  Her heart raced in her chest, and her limbs tingled with a faint numbness.

  Upon standing before the crystal, she was instructed to pce her hand upon it, and Seneca did so.

  The crystal gleamed brightly.

  The priest observed the phenomenon and spoke.

  “Your skill is [Sewing]. A highly rare skill, indeed. I’ve been in this line of work for many years, but this is the first time I’ve seen it.”

  “[Sewing]? Do you mean the kind where you thread a needle and stitch things together?”

  “That’s the one. How fortunate. You’ll be able to live with this skill. You’ll need to practice diligently, though.”

  The priest chuckled heartily and, with a bright smile, immediately called for Lucius.

  Seneca’s mind went bnk, and her vision blurred slightly.

  Her heart pounded in her chest, and the ringing in her ears grew louder.

  [Sewing] was clearly not a combat-oriented skill.

  What about magic? What about swordsmanship?

  No, it didn’t have to be those.

  She had been prepared for defensive or reconnaissance skills, and she was ready to face battle if need be.

  But a skill for daily life...?

  She felt as though she might colpse, but she steadied herself, reminding herself that she had to witness Lucius’s skill next.

  As she turned her attention to him, Lucius was about to pce his hand upon the crystal.

  Just like Seneca, the crystal fshed brightly.

  The elderly priest widened his weary eyes as he read the information from the crystal.

  Then, he suddenly stood up.

  “Amazing! [Holy Magic]! After sixty years, a child with the ability to wield Holy Magic has appeared! A new saint is born!”

  His voice echoed loudly through the temple.

  The other children still present in the temple all turned to look.

  Lucius blinked in confusion.

  “H-Holy Magic? What’s that?”

  “It is a healing magic akin to the divine. Those who possess this skill are revered by the church as the most blessed humans, favoured by the gods themselves.”

  “Revered? By whom?”

  “By you.”

  Lucius, unable to comprehend the gravity of the situation, became flustered.

  His words tumbled out as he panicked.

  Seneca, unable to bear his distress, couldn’t help but interject.

  “What will happen to Lucius now that he’s obtained such a skill?”

  “Well, first, the bishop will be along shortly. After confirming the appraisal results, he’ll be taken to the church. You two are orphans from the church, are you not?”

  Seneca nodded.

  “In that case, there’s no room to refuse. By tomorrow or the day after, he’ll be taken to the grand cathedral in the capital.”

  “Taken to the church? What does that mean?”

  “It means you won’t be able to live together anymore.”

  Seneca, armed, asked quickly.

  “Why?”

  “It’s the fate of saints. To properly wield Holy Magic, one must undergo training with the church’s magi. This means he must leave this pce and go to the capital’s great cathedral. The current saintess also underwent the same process when she was a child.”

  Lucius fell silent, listening intently.

  Seneca, however, pressed the priest with a string of questions, each one more urgent than the st.

  Meanwhile, Kito, who had been waiting for her own appraisal, noticed something was amiss and came over to them.

  Recognising the tension in Seneca’s demeanour, Kito worked hard to calm her down.

  After a tense exchange, Lucius, who had been silent until then, slowly stepped forward and spoke.

  “Priest, how impressive is this Holy Magic?”

  “Theoretically, it is said that one who masters it can heal any wound and purify any evil. It is one of the most powerful skills known.”

  “If I had such a skill, would I be able to protect those I care about?”

  Lucius gnced briefly at Seneca.

  “I see. So, that’s what’s on your mind. In that case, there is no better skill. When it comes to protecting others, it is the highest-tier skill.”

  The old man suddenly grinned widely.

  Kito, who had been watching their exchange, jumped into the conversation.

  “But I’ve heard that once you become a saint, you lose your freedom. Are you really okay with that, Lucius?”

  “That used to be the case,” the priest replied, “but ever since the current saintess changed the old ways, there’s been far less interference. She was rather... forceful in her methods, you see.”

  “Is that so...?”

  “But I understand. It’s only natural that you’re concerned for Lucius. Don’t worry; I’ll take care of him. You can rest easy, as though you’re on a great ship.”

  The priest let out a hearty ugh as he spoke.

  ...

  The events unfolded just as the elderly priest had described.

  Before long, Lucius was set to leave the town by noon the next day.

  On the way back, Seneca, Lucius, and Kito discussed each other’s skills.

  Kito had obtained a rare skill as well—[Alchemy]. If she could master it, becoming wealthy would not be out of the question.

  Kito mentioned that she would likely spend some time training under an apothecary.

  Seneca and Lucius, both unaware of the details of [Holy Magic], were surprised when Kito expined. This skill was special in that it allowed for healing, exorcising evil, defending, and even attacking—covering all manner of possibilities.

  However, it was difficult to control, and if used recklessly, it could lead to catastrophic accidents, even death.

  To protect those with such powerful abilities, the church would immediately take them under its care, ensuring their safety.

  Those with this skill would soon be revered as saints, recognised for their extraordinary power.

  Although Seneca and Lucius were taken aback by Kito’s knowledge, it became clear that this was the sort of thing one would learn if they studied properly.

  Both of them, who were not fond of studying, awkwardly shifted the conversation to a different topic.

  ...

  Finally, Seneca confessed the name of her skill to the two of them.

  Having once been so eager to become an adventurer, it was hard for her to admit that her skill was one for daily life. She was certain her voice quivered when she spoke the words.

  But neither Lucius nor Kito seemed particurly bothered by it, and their reactions were far more muted than she had anticipated.

  “[Sewing]... that’s interesting,” Lucius remarked. “I’ve heard that specialised skills tend to be more powerful than general ones. Maybe there’s a unique way only you can use it. That might actually make it stronger than something like [Alchemy].”

  “Besides,” Kito added, “if anyone could get strong without a skill, it’d be you, Seneca. After all, you can already produce something like sparks from your hands. That’s magic, isn’t it? I’ve never heard of someone who can use magic without a skill.”

  Indeed, Seneca had managed, through sheer effort, to produce sparks like embers from her hands, though their practical use was still negligible.

  The words of her childhood friends gave Seneca hope for the future, but at the same time, they became a burden that continued to weigh heavily on her heart.

  ...

  When they returned to the orphanage, the atmosphere was bustling with excitement.

  The children, already in a frenzy after obtaining their skills, were further stirred by the news of Lucius’s newfound power.

  Some of the sisters even knelt before Lucius, offering prayers.

  Seneca noticed the cold sweat trickling down Lucius’s face.

  When it came time for Seneca to reveal her skill, some mocked her, but with the topic of Lucius dominating the conversation, it didn’t escate into anything serious.

  After dinner, Lucius came to Seneca.

  “Hey, Seneca. When everyone’s asleep, come to the attic. Sister Cire said she’d overlook it just for tonight.”

  “…Alright.”

  The two of them often sneaked up to the attic, where they would sometimes watch the sunset, or gaze at the moon and sunrise.

  On this particur night, however, Seneca wasn’t in the mood to gaze at the sky.