“Debating this is pointless; even the Lord of Radiance wouldn’t perform miracles due to human despair,” Richter cut off their speculation. “We should focus on more practical matters, such as—how do we kill Augusta?”

  “Um… I was thinking of directly attacking, but that won’t work, will it?” Louise feigned innocent naiveté, her voice drawn out. “What does Selene think? You seem to know the most about the monster… Augusta. What’s your opinion?”

  “So sickening; I hope that seven-hundred-year-old hag has some self-awareness. This cute style really doesn’t suit you,” Selene said icily.

  “Oh, I’m only five hundred and sixty, a true young lady,” Louise winked, a guileless smile on her face.

  Jose nodded in agreement.

  For elves with an average lifespan of 2500 years, that age is indeed young.

  But for humans, it’s practically an ancestor’s age, Richter thought.

  “Ugh…”

  “Over the top?! And what can you even throw up? Trying to make me watch? Our friendship is over!”

  “Useless things should just be broken, you’re right. Your life experience is twenty times that of my old grandma—”

  “Aaah, I’ll kill you!”

  Somehow, the serious discussion devolved into playful banter between the two girls; Louise pretended to angrily brandish her sketchbook, while Selene feigned panic, trying to stop her, both with barely concealed smiles.

  “They have a good relationship,” Jose suddenly said, inexplicably lowering his voice and leaning towards Richter’s ear.

  “Yes,” Richter replied calmly. “They haven’t known each other long, but they’ve been through a lot; a close relationship isn’t unusual.”

  It was more surprising that Selene, with her personality, would have a bad relationship with someone she spent every day with… With a few jokes exchanged, she could unilaterally declare a friendship. It had only been a few days, yet she'd already gained significant trust from him.

  Jose didn’t respond immediately; observing their actions for a moment with an artist’s eye, he asked hesitantly:

  “By the way… you intentionally avoided mentioning your real-world identities earlier, and I didn’t ask. If it's something you don't want to answer, you don’t have to.”

  “That’s fine. But what do you want to ask?” Richter was somewhat surprised.

  “Is Miss Selene from a prominent family? It’s not obvious, but you might have noticed,” Jose tilted his head, speaking sincerely. “Even in this playful interaction, her movements have a certain restraint. Recalling her earlier actions, you can find traces of etiquette… subtle, but definitely present.”

  He paused, adding:

  “Years of training, almost ingrained into instinct, but she can deliberately modify her habitual movements, leaving only traces. That’s the feeling I get… That’s why I asked about Miss Selene’s real-world identity. I suspect she’s from a noble family of powerful mages, possibly a young lady from the Lanstier heartland in the Northern Continent. Only the Divine Glory Church uses this kind of refined yet unpretentious, grand, dignified, yet intimate etiquette—subtle yet distinctive. Only nobles around the Holy City would specifically learn this type of etiquette… It’s difficult to mimic without a tutor.”

  Richter silently glanced to the side, seeing no connection between Jose's observations and Selene.

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  What the hell? How did he notice so much? I grew up among the nobility; even though I didn't like it, I knew various customs and etiquette of different churches and noble houses… How did I miss that completely? Are you sure that’s Selene? And not some incorporeal spirit only you can see, hovering near Selene?

  “Didn’t you notice?” Jose, reacting belatedly, was somewhat surprised. “It might not be obvious, but spending time with her would reveal it. At least Miss Louise noticed, because she intentionally avoided places where she might run into Miss Selene… She wouldn’t do that without knowing.”

  “…I haven’t spent much time with her,” Richter inhaled sharply. “Besides, she’s not a noblewoman. While she was born in a large city, her parents were ordinary factory workers.”

  This was originally a goods wagon, with ample space. Jose and Richter intentionally avoided Selene and Louise, whispering… Louise could hear their conversation with her superior elven senses, but Selene couldn’t.

  “Then she entered a church academy, then served as a nun in the Divine Glory Church, or was adopted by some prominent figure who valued etiquette…” Jose persisted with his assessment. “But speaking of which, it's rare for you three, from such different backgrounds, to work together, and even become friends.”

  Richter pondered for a moment, then suddenly understood.

  He was showcasing his abilities.

  As the least familiar member of the group, and sensing a subtle sense of being targeted, to change this situation, he was simultaneously cultivating relationships and demonstrating his abilities. He was using topics that might interest them to build rapport, subtly revealing his sharp observational skills to avoid being labeled as a “hindrance” or “useless” member…

  He chose Jose partly because they were of the same gender, making it easier, and partly because of Jose's youthful appearance. Even though he knew Jose was an adult, he subconsciously relaxed…

  Richter quickly pieced it together, surprised by Jose’s perceptiveness.

  “How did you figure that out?”

  “Well… Miss Selene is definitely from Lanstier; that's undeniable. Miss Louise is clearly a pure-blooded elf from Zorrashien; you can tell from the length of her ears. Incidentally, Miss Selene’s ears have slightly pointed tips, suggesting a very faint elven bloodline. She likely had a direct elven ancestor in her great-grandparent’s generation, who may still be alive.”

  “That’s common in Lanstier. Due to religious reasons, most elves who leave their homeland prefer to settle in Lanstier, resulting in many mixed-race elves. According to statistics, at least thirty percent of the Holy City's population is of mixed elf and human descent, twenty percent are mixed human and dwarf, twenty percent are beastmen, and pure humans and other less common races account for the remaining forty percent,” Jose replied seriously. “As for Mr. Richter… clearly, you and I are both from Mittal. I don’t think I need further confirmation; your accent is enough.”

  Richter offered a calm smile:

  “Mr. Jose, you’re a remarkable artist, indeed. Your observation skills are exceptional… but I think that even someone with broad knowledge wouldn't necessarily notice these things immediately, but recognizing them shouldn’t be difficult.”

  Jose understood and, after a moment's hesitation, added in a lower voice:

  “The relationship between the three of you isn’t as harmonious as it appears… To be precise, although Miss Selene presented you and Miss Louise as equals, she's subconsciously wary of you, without realizing it herself… This doesn't necessarily mean distrust, but rather an unconscious reaction to your presence. For example, she sits slightly farther from you, and when you approached…”

  “Yes,” Richter’s expression became even calmer. “Let’s not go any further… Rest assured, I won’t use you as cannon fodder at a critical moment.”

  He sighed, rubbing his forehead.

  “You should have more confidence in yourself, or perhaps, even if you lack self-confidence, you should have confidence in your future superlative self. You are wary of us, and we are wary of you. This kind of relationship is actually quite stable.”

  “…I still can’t believe it,” Jose chuckled wryly. “Becoming a superlative being in just ten years, achieving fame and fortune… It’s truly… incredible. While there are examples of prodigies, I never thought this would happen to me.”

  Richter remained silent.

  Before seeing this person, he hadn’t found anything unbelievable about his competition experience ten years ago; a genius, talented but late-blooming—that was all.

  But seeing this person, he couldn’t understand how Jose had achieved superlative status in ten… no, seven years, progressing at a rate of one tier per year, while also achieving so much in the secular world.

  “What are you talking about?” Louise and Selene approached as their conversation seemed to be ending. “I think I heard my name.”

  “Discussing our next plan and strategy,” Richter answered smoothly, pausing slightly before adding, glancing outside the carriage.

  The caravan had stopped.

  Night had fallen; bonfires were lit; the aroma of meat and wine filled the air—as they became aware of all this, a voice rang out.

  “We’ll re-organize the information, then we may need to explore… the area outside the caravan,” Richter said slowly.