Another Side
When a sage plots in the Magician Continent, a new movement arises elsewhere.
In Isal, the day of departure is about to come.
“…”
Two men and one woman.
Gathered in the Cathedral of the Theocratic Nation Tris, they were now witnessing a miracle.
These were chosen elites, selected from both the Kingdom and the Theocratic Nation.
Normally proud and conspicuous, they were now kneeling, their faces upturned in silence before an Apostle of God.
Their silence was not due to nervousness, but to being overwhelmed by the being standing before them. They had encountered a presence that rendered them unable to even consider opening their mouths.
“I see, so you are the ones chosen this time, is that correct?”
A beautiful woman, with three pairs of pure white wings descending from the heavens on schedule as per the oracle, stood clad in white robes and holding a golden staff.
She looked at the three kneeling figures and recognized them as the ones who would be guided this time.
“I am Nisia, an angel sent to this land by the Master.”
Elegantly, yet without bowing her head.
Her golden hair, reaching her waist, shone with a kind smile, gently swaying in the wind.
Her voluptuous figure seemed to gently embrace all beings.
“Seraph Nisia.”
The sole woman among the kneeling figures spoke her name, but Nisia did not react.
Neither negation nor affirmation held any meaning.
Though her height was slightly above that of an ordinary woman, her perfectly proportional form made her a work of divine art.
Seraph, Second in Command
Second in command in the order closest to God.
Do not think that the difference between the first and second Seraph is measurable by humans.
An apostle sent by God is a being whose truth none can deny.
There is no one who could shamelessly complain before such a being.
“…”
Indeed, they could not answer Nisia’s question.
Ordinarily, the oldest Knight Commander selected from the Kingdom should have answered, but he remained speechless.
Though he held the position of Knight Commander, he was still young, in his twenties.
Beside him, the kneeling Court Mage could be considered a boy.
And further to his side, the Saintess dispatched from the Theocratic Nation was also in her teens.
Youngsters had gathered where veteran warriors, mages, and Saintesses, whom one would normally call seasoned professionals, should have been.
While their capabilities were undeniable, their lack of experience was evident.
However, there were reasons for this.
Currently, it was wartime, and personnel who could be spared from the front lines were limited.
The honest thinking of the nations was to retain capable and trusted individuals.
But the oracle was also important.
So, what to do?
This trio was the best compromise they could come up with.
And she was the one who had gone through the most trouble.
The Kingdom was notorious for the poor relations between its Knights and Mages.
Despite their abilities, their pride often made them belittle cooperation.
The Knights were called brainless meatheads who prioritized strength, while the Mages were labeled as insidious, gloomy, and dark.
They constantly nitpicked at each other, almost as if a mother-in-law were trying to torment her daughter-in-law.
During their first meeting, it had nearly escalated into a physical altercation within five seconds if not for the presence of the King.
And after the King departed, leaving the three to fend for themselves, it was this Saintess, Eshlee, who mediated.
“Eh?! At this timing?!”
Despite her internal shock, she displayed the pride of a national representative, even when bestowed with troublesome tasks.
They possessed talent, were young, and were rising stars.
Consequently, their inflated pride reached the heavens.
They quarreled frequently, souring the atmosphere, and each time Eshlee had to use her spirit, grit, and sheer desperation to smooth things over.
Outwardly, she maintained her demeanor as a Saintess, but inwardly, she wielded a club.
She had recently begun to believe that her healing magic had improved so rapidly not from practice, but from the constant need to treat her own aching stomach.
“Y-Yes! We are the ones guided by you.”
It was precisely for this reason that she, a troubleshooter at heart rather than a wavering prodigy, was able to answer Nisia’s question.
In that instant, she had asserted a position of authority over the Knight Commander Arben and the Court Mage Majes, whom she should have respected.
“I see. You are permitted to state your names. What is your name?”
“Yes, I am Eshlee Lia Mikardo, a Saintess from the Theocratic Nation Tris.”
To Nisia, human status was irrelevant.
All that mattered was whether they were useful or not.
If not useful, then how much faith they possessed was the only metric.
Without any particular pretense of concern, Nisia memorized Eshlee’s name as if it were a mere symbol.
However, Eshlee found herself caught in a peculiar coincidence.
Surprisingly, the traveling Miko she had met last year had made an unprecedented rise and was now facing a divine messenger.
If Jiro hadn’t saved her that day, she likely wouldn’t have been here.
And she wouldn’t have been enduring the constant stomach pains, unable to treat them.
Her presence here was due to the fact that Tris’s upper echelons were reluctant to send any other valuable Saintesses.
Saintesses were typically of noble bloodlines.
Cases where noble-born ladies became Saintesses were common.
While they possessed a natural talent for healing magic, the weight of history from their ancestors also played a role.
Consequently, there were often many entanglements.
Yes, due to the asinine noble backstabbing, dispatching someone so difficult to handle and capable of influencing future power dynamics, despite the importance of the matter, was deemed questionable.
“Eshlee. I have remembered that name.”
“It is my greatest honor.”
One might say she should be focusing on the task at hand, but for the higher-ups, the most important thing was the stability of their own positions.
So, they thought and they researched.
Within the limited time of just three days,
They found her.
A commoner, talented, and possessing strong faith.
A decision bordering on depravity: if she proved useful, they could bring her into their fold.
This proved she was a convenient asset.
However, understanding these circumstances, she resolved to live up to the expectations of her peers, who had tearfully seen her off. She would endure the impending stomach pains.
Conversely, she was grateful for the unparalleled opportunity to meet a divine messenger.
“Eshlee, please tell me the names of these individuals.”
“Yes, to my left is Arben MacQuade von Selbel, Commander of the Second Knights’ Order of the Eclair Kingdom.”
And she rejoiced in this unique honor of being granted words.
Honor, to some, might be something they would throw to the pigs.
But for her, in her position, receiving such an experience-flavored honor meant potentially having her name remembered by God.
This was an undeniable brand for the Theocratic Nation.
For her, who wished to reform the current situation where nobles held the upper echelons, this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
She pulled herself together, enduring the stomach pains, and introduced Arben, who communicated his displeasure through his gaze.
“It is an honor to meet you. I am Arben MacQuade von Selbel, Commander of the Second Knights’ Order of the Eclair Kingdom. As for Nisia—”
Arben, clad in silver armor and a blue mantle, with a sword at his hip forged by dwarves, his hard red hair slicked back and his muscular facial muscles fixed in a stoic expression, greeted Seraph Nisia with the demeanor of a stern warrior.
“There is no need to repeat yourself. Nor is a lengthy speech necessary. Eshlee, your turn.”
“Y-Yes!”
However, to Seraph Nisia, it was merely a process of confirming names, and she cut off the overly formal greeting, which was typical of nobles.
Arben apologized and bowed his head, clenching his fists.
“Oh, my stomach hurts,” Eshlee lamented inwardly and introduced the man kneeling to her right.
“This gentleman is Majes Graf von Elus, Third Seat of the Court Mages of the Eclair Kingdom, like Arben.”
“Oh, noble names are so long, I might stumble,” she sighed as she introduced the man to her right.
He was a slender man with short, blue hair that matched his ice-blue eyes, wearing an elf-woven embroidered robe and carrying a staff made from a thousand-year-old tree.
To avoid repeating Arben’s faux pas, he simply bowed in response.
“I have remembered them.”
Eshlee could not judge whether his response was correct or not. As Seraph Nisia continued the proceeding impersonally, the tension mounted.
On her left, a hostile knight and mage.
In front of her, the fearsome divine messenger, Seraph Nisia.
She had resolved to endure any trial, but she was already letting out a small cry.
She worried if she would truly be alright.
“Now, we will commence the teleportation.”
Seraph Nisia, seemingly focused on efficiency, intended to proceed to the next stage without further ado.
This caused Eshlee, who had already taken on the role of mediator for this group, to panic.
“W-Wait, Nisia-sama!”
“What is it, Eshlee?”
She was a diligent person.
She had gathered as much information as possible about the world they were about to visit.
As a result, she understood that their current attire was highly problematic.
Armor, robes, and ceremonial garments.
In this world, these might inspire admiration, but in the context of the summoned heroes’ stories, they were glaringly conspicuous.
“I humbly request your indulgence, Nisia-sama. To ensure every preparation for this oracle, I have made some arrangements.”
“Preparations? Very well. Speak.”
“Th-Thank you.”
She had also heard of organizations like the “police” and military branches.
To be safe, it was best to avoid attracting attention.
Not wanting to waste the oracle’s decree, she had worked tirelessly, repeatedly pulling all-nighters and using healing magic to maintain her physical condition while gathering information and making preparations.
“Humbly, the land we are about to visit is an uncharted territory, beyond even our God’s sight. I have heard that their culture and civilization are vastly different. I have prepared attire for everyone present, including yourself, Nisia-sama.”
When the heroes were taken away, some items were left behind.
These included sundries and textbooks stored in bags.
Items of everyday use.
Within these, she sought a possibility.
While it might be possible to make their current outfits appear normal with magic, it would require considerable effort.
They had also heard that the world lacked mana.
Seraph Nisia was said to be a being to compensate for this lack of mana.
Therefore, Eshlee recognized it as her duty to reduce the burden.
And from a Magic Bag provided by the nation, she took out items of clothing unfamiliar to them.
“What is this?”
“Yes, I gathered information on attire from other worlds from a publication called a ‘fashion magazine’ and reproduced them. The fabric used is the highest grade material we have stored in our country. While it is no match for your divine garments, I prepared it in hopes of reducing any burden on you.”
Created from the possibilities left behind by the heroes were garments worn by female models.
Eshlee presented the most well-made item among the prepared clothes, one in which the artisans had displayed their skills.
Nisia gently picked it up, felt the texture, unfolded it, and after gazing at it for a moment.
“I see. I have heard that there will be subordinates of evil gods in the place we are going. We should avoid conspicuous actions. This is efficient.”
She deemed Eshlee’s actions to be sound.
Nisia, now wearing the clothes with magic that automatically adjusted their size, looked like a foreign model.
“The comfort is also not bad. This should not interfere with our activities. Eshlee, is there anything else?”
“Yes, I have prepared various other things.”
Convinced it would be useful, Nisia postponed the immediate teleportation, deciding to extend their time within reasonable limits for preparations based on Eshlee’s explanation.
Upon hearing that they would have a preparation period, Eshlee inwardly cheered.
And when the upper echelon learned that the divine messenger would be staying for a few days, expecting an immediate departure, they scrambled to prepare feasts and accommodations.
Another Side End
A word for today:
There are movements beyond your field of vision.
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*The first volume of the novel has been published by Hayakawa Bunko JA and was released on October 18, 2018.
The e-book version was released on October 31 of the same year.
The second volume was released on December 19, and the third volume on February 20, 2019.
The content has been revised and expanded from the version posted on “Shosetsuka ni Narou,” with additional unpublished intermissions included.
Please also consider purchasing the new volumes!
A comic adaptation is being serialized in Kodansha’s “Young Magazine The Third.”
We hope you enjoy that as well.
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