Noticing the brief pause in my demeanor, Luminas leaned slightly forward, a teasing glint in her eyes.
"But of course," she said, "I'll reward you. I shall grant you a Skill for your efforts."
I raised a brow, my voice calm but carrying a weight that drew attention. "A Skill?"
"Yes," Luminas replied, her lips curling into an enigmatic smile. "The 'Ultimate Secret of Faith and Grace.'"
Her words resonated through the room, almost tangible. It wasn't a mere trick or superficial ability—it radiated strength. I could sense the depth of the Skill even before knowing its details.
I leaned back slightly, my gaze steady, authoritative. "Luminas, I already possess all the power I require. My abilities, combined with the authority I command, suffice to protect Eterna and to shape its future. Moreover, I can wield Holy Magic far more efficiently than even you—or the entire Western Holy Church."
Luminas's eyes widened ever so slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her expression. A faint laugh escaped her, soft yet full of genuine amusement. "Ah, I see… so even a reward must pass through your judgment, Supreme Atem."
"Indeed," I said firmly, my voice calm yet carrying undeniable weight. "I do not dismiss your intentions lightly. But a Skill, no matter how grand, cannot exceed what I have mastered already. That said…" My gaze narrowed, intensity flowing through my words, "If you wish, I will learn its principles. But let it be known—I shall refine it and make it surpass the origin you intended."
Luminas chuckled, her aura of power unwavering. "Very well, then. I shall teach you the principle. Consider it an exchange of trust, Supreme Atem. And in return…" She gestured subtly. "Your nation may host scholars from mine to collaborate freely. Consider it my token of appreciation."
"Agreed," I said, voice firm, eyes locking with hers. "Let us proceed."
She nodded, and with deliberate grace, she began to explain the mechanics of the Skill. "The 'Ultimate Secret of Faith and Grace' is, in essence, the principle of Holy Magic. Through it, your followers may channel a fragment of your power. Those who bear your name may act as conduits, manifesting spells drawn from your strength."
I listened carefully, absorbing every nuance. Holy Magic—this was not merely a gift, but a mechanism to extend influence, a principle capable of empowering entire legions under my command. A tool to shape belief into tangible power.
"I see," I said finally, voice calm, yet charged with a weight that seemed to press upon the very air. "With this, those under my command can wield Holy Magic with greater efficiency than even Luminas herself. This is… an impressive design. But it is my power that guides it, and my authority that ensures its perfection."
Luminas's smile widened faintly. "You truly are remarkable, Atem. Few could wield this knowledge without faltering under its burden."
I inclined my head, letting the gravity of my presence fill the room. "Indeed. That is why I accepted your teaching. But remember this—principles can be learned, yet mastery requires both wisdom and command. I already possess both."
Her laughter was soft, yet resonant with respect. "Then I am glad I can offer something worthy of your attention. Use it well, Supreme Atem, and may it strengthen the bond between our nations."
I gave a slow nod, sealing the agreement. The deal was finalized: the orchestra of Eterna would perform at the Night Garden, while Luminas's Surmounters—her elite and highly evolved nobles—would conduct research in our nation under controlled guidance.
As she deactivated her Dimension Severance, the room returned to normal, as though nothing had transpired. Peace settled back over the gathering. I took a measured sip of the black tea served by her butler, Gunther, observing Luminas speak animatedly about the concert, her enjoyment clear. She favored the cultural exchange far more than the scientific—it amused her, and I noted that.
Near the end of our conversation, her gaze sharpened slightly, tone casual yet pointed.
"By the way, Atem," she said, her eyes scanning me carefully, "among the guests, there was one who gave off a rather unpleasant aura. Did you notice?"
I paused, allowing the weight of her observation to sink in. This was no idle comment—it was a warning.
"You mean… those two?" I asked quietly, meeting her gaze.
"Yes. I am pleased you have not let your guard down. Be vigilant." she said, the words carrying a subtle steel beneath the elegance.
I inclined my head in acknowledgment. "Of course, Luminas."
With that, our meeting concluded. I departed, leaving her surrounded by her Surmounters, the atmosphere calm once again.
Later, dinner commenced. At a round table, I found myself dining with Yuuki and Hinata. Their camaraderie was effortless, a lively exchange of conversation and laughter. I observed quietly, enjoying their banter while listening to their reflections on the day.
"The concert was incredible," Yuuki said. "Even if Hinata had been shopping, it would still have been unforgettable."
Hinata muttered something about her choices, yet I noted her eyes flicked elsewhere when the subject touched on someone using an alias—her curiosity piqued.
I listened, patient and composed, as they discussed their experiences. The set meal, divided into Japanese and Western cuisine, offered little distraction from the conversation, though the flavors were exquisite.
"I'm more curious about the research into magicule," Hinata said quietly, her tone serious. "Healing potions do nothing to me. Magic is nullified instantly, and yet…"
I nodded subtly, acknowledging the importance of her observation. The subtleties of magic interaction were indeed significant. My authority and understanding of Holy Magic made me more than capable of handling such anomalies, but it was valuable to note these perspectives from allies.
Yuuki praised me, half-jokingly, but with genuine respect. Hinata's demeanor, ever sharp, added an undercurrent of challenge, reminding me that even in informal settings, vigilance was necessary.
"Even though I encouraged independence," I remarked, my tone calm but carrying undeniable authority, "it would have been wise to review the research beforehand."
They exchanged glances, recognizing my subtle rebuke. Yet the mood remained light as dinner continued, with laughter and conversation gradually overshadowing the weight of the day's events.
As the night unfolded, the First Day of the Founding Festival concluded. Praise was abundant, confidence high. But I knew better than to rest easy. Naivety could be a dangerous companion, and tomorrow would test both judgment and resolve.