The Protagonist’s Party is Too Diligent – 101
EP.101 Interlude
After sending Sylvia back to her room, Alice stood up and changed her clothes again. She still had the bunny girl outfit on beneath her uniform.
Once she removed her school uniform and found herself back in the rather embarrassing costume, Alice glanced at her reflection in the mirror and blushed. It was still an awkward outfit no matter how many times she saw it. She could hardly believe she had willingly decided to wear something like this.
But…
At the same time, she felt oddly relieved. It was as if she had finally vented something she’d been suppressing deep inside her for a long time. Perhaps this feeling came because she hadn’t gone to that place alone—Sylvia and some others who had unintentionally gotten involved were with her.
“…….”
It was almost as though Sylvia had known Alice would show up in this outfit. Sylvia had visited Alice’s room without batting an eye. Even though Alice had purposely avoided telling Sylvia about her plans. Yet somehow, Alice had expected Sylvia to appear. She had long believed Sylvia had some way of understanding the future.
That belief had only solidified when Sylvia returned victorious from the battlefield. How many soldiers could infiltrate enemy territory alone and return unscathed?
Just slipping through enemy lines was already a tremendous feat. The area between the frontlines—the so-called “no man’s land”—was named as such because anyone who ventured into it was killed. Even those lucky enough to survive were quickly discovered and shot dead. And yet, Sylvia had crossed that desolate, death-ridden wasteland alone and reduced the enemy’s camp to rubble. She hadn’t even sustained a scratch in the process.
To accomplish such a feat, she would have needed to grasp every detail: the enemy base’s layout, their troop placements, their weaponry, and even the trajectories of bullets. It was a level of precision beyond human comprehension. Not even Jennifer Winterfield could have achieved such a battle, and if she could have, she likely would have done so long ago.
It wasn’t hard to believe that someone like Sylvia could easily discern what Alice intended to do.
In fact, when Sylvia appeared, Alice had felt reassured.
As always, when Alice acted on impulse, Sylvia supported her. This time, Sylvia had gone a step further—she hadn’t interfered at all, as if silently giving Alice the green light to proceed. Sylvia had simply stayed by Alice’s side, creating an atmosphere where Alice could take control until the very end. Of course, if Verratti had posed any real threat, Sylvia would have stepped in immediately.
“This makes me an unqualified older sister.”
Alice muttered with a heavy sigh.
Anyone could see that Sylvia acted more like the older sibling between them.
“Still…”
A smile soon spread across Alice’s face.
She had seen Sylvia smile.
It had only been for a fleeting moment, and it had disappeared almost instantly, but Alice was certain of it—Sylvia had smiled ever so faintly.
As someone attuned to Sylvia’s subtle emotions, Alice had always known that Sylvia wasn’t some emotionless monster. But this was the first time Sylvia had smiled so openly. It was a completely natural smile, so much so that Alice had almost overlooked it entirely.
That smile made Alice think. Perhaps Sylvia’s belief in her as the next Emperor wasn’t rooted in practical reasoning. Perhaps it wasn’t because Sylvia had glimpsed some vision of the future. Maybe it was simply because Sylvia was her supporter—her fan. Or maybe, it was because Sylvia genuinely believed in her.
“‘Not precognition, nor calculation.'”
Alice murmured, recalling Sylvia’s words.
If that were the case, had Sylvia experienced the future herself?
But that seemed impossible.
Reversing time was scientifically unfeasible. Even devout followers of the Goddess Church or mystical theorists would scoff at such an idea.
If that were possible, one could erase their sins, which would mean that God’s proper judgment on human sins would be meaningless. Such a notion would be nothing short of heresy to the Goddess Church’s followers, who would undoubtedly rise in outrage at even a suggestion of it.
“No, wait.”
Alice thought, a sly smile spreading across her lips.
Perhaps, rather than accusing Sylvia of heresy, they might twist their logic to avoid deeming her a goddess—just to maintain their beliefs.
She wondered how Verratti might react to hearing such a claim. The thought amused her, and Alice couldn’t help but chuckle softly to herself as she continued changing.
*
“What do you think of my younger sisters?”
The dimly lit room could have been a safe house—or a prison. Verratti, blindfolded, had been brought to this windowless basement. While riding in the carriage, she had tried to memorize the route, but the path they took was anything but ordinary. Even if it had been a regular route, the winding and erratic movements seemed designed to throw off her sense of direction.
Still, if this place was within Northwood’s territory, Verratti believed she could find her way back.
The past several months hadn’t been wasted. She had subtly made her presence known, scoured the nearby woods, and even infiltrated the Northwood Duke’s residence multiple times without getting caught.
However, she hadn’t yet pinpointed the location of the relic she was searching for. The equipment she had brought from the Papal State had provided a general idea, but she hadn’t been able to search every potential location. The mere thought of that “equipment” sent a shiver down her spine.
The most effective way to locate the relic was by using another relic crafted in the same manner. Being fragments of the same whole, paired relics could react to each other, allowing their locations to be identified. Could her collaborators retrieve the matching relic in time?
“You seem to be deep in thought.”
A high-pitched, annoying voice asked. It sounded mocking, and Verratti glared at the speaker.
The figure’s face was entirely hidden behind a mask. Even the hair seemed to be a wig, with the ears obscured and the neck concealed by clothing. They were covered head to toe, an appearance that somehow seemed fitting for the region.
“…Yes, that’s right.”
She had already realized the operation was a failure as soon as she saw the imperial princess. If both princesses had been informed, it meant the Empire’s upper echelons were already aware.
What she hadn’t anticipated was that the seemingly insignificant princess would be the one coordinating all the others.
Even the Emperor couldn’t entirely ignore familial ties, it seemed.
“I’m not sure what delusion you’re entertaining.”
The strange woman, introduced as another imperial princess, cut into Verratti’s thoughts.
“But the Emperor’s successor hasn’t been decided yet. Sylvia could become Empress, or I could take the throne. Or, perhaps, one of the traditional imperial princes might claim it instead.”
“…….”
“Today, I only helped because I wanted to. A cute younger sister asked me for a favor. As her older sister, how could I refuse?”
“How noble of you, Your Highness.”
Verratti spat, grinding her teeth.
“Well, setting that aside, there’s only one person truly vying for the throne. But whether our father will choose to place them there? That, even we don’t know.”
“If someone unwilling to rule takes the throne, do you think the Empire would function properly?”
“The Empire has its council, doesn’t it?”
“Ridiculous.”
Verratti scoffed.
“The council is full of puppets who would never defy the Emperor’s will.”
“That’s only because the imperial authority is strong right now. If that power weakens in future generations, perhaps the council might finally find its backbone.”
“The Emperor? Well, you claim to be his daughter, so you might know the emperor’s thoughts better, but… I doubt it.”
Verratti shrugged nonchalantly, her tone dripping with mockery.
“At least from what we see in the Papal State, the Emperor is definitely not that kind of person.”
“Do you trust the Papal State’s information?”
“More than yours, certainly.”
“Impressive. I thought you became a Knights Templar just because you enjoyed killing people. Turns out you’re actually quite devout?”
“……”
Verratti fell silent, glaring at the fox mask in front of her.
“Well, you don’t have to answer. You’ll feel like talking soon enough.”
“Hah.”
For the first time since arriving here, Verratti relaxed her tense posture.
“Torture, is it?”
If it came to that, she wasn’t concerned. Pain was something she could endure, even find some twisted satisfaction in. As long as she wasn’t killed, the Papal State could always restore her body. They had the relic, after all.
So long as there was no evidence of her betrayal.
“No, no. We’re quite civilized. Or, should I say, I’m quite ‘ladylike.’”
The fox mask shrugged theatrically, adding an insipid joke.
“You seem to have a lot of theories about the Imperial Family. If you’re that curious, why not ask the person at the very top directly?”
“What—”
Before Verratti could respond, the basement door creaked open, flooding the room with blinding light.
She squinted, raising her gaze to see a figure standing in the doorway, silhouetted against the glow.
The face wasn’t clear, but Verratti recognized the imposing build immediately. She had seen that figure a few times before.
“I told you, you’d feel like talking.”
In the dim room, the fox mask seemed to hover eerily in the dark, its wearer’s black clothing blending seamlessly into the shadows.