* * *
Ranshel pointed to himself with a confused finger. Frey nodded.
“I actually tried already—when we got out of the carriage and held hands. It failed, though.”
“Well, that’s probably because I’m not the right kind of person for something like that.”
“No, that’s not it. It’s because the god you serve is different from the one in the Grand Cathedral.”
“…I don’t follow any god.”
“Then there must be someone watching over you even if you don’t believe. You already carry a divine blessing—one strong enough to bring the dead back to life.”
Ranshel’s eyes darted around in confusion… until a sudden realization struck him.
Wait a second—could this be referring to the extra life mechanic from the game?
[Mini Game Over]
[You have lost one extra life.]
[♥♥♥♥♡]
[Be aware: if all lives are lost, true death will occur.]
…Could that really be considered a divine blessing?
Ranshel tilted his head, unimpressed.
Sure, the idea of data being lost and returning to a past point did border on divine intervention.
But the system never felt like it was on his side—it was more like an aloof observer telling him to try harder.
“…But is it really okay to grant power so freely to anyone? I’m an assassin, trained to kill.”
He appreciated the gesture of offering an extra skill through a blessing, but someone like him—a villain—shouldn’t be the one receiving such power.
There were others far more worthy.
But Frey only smiled, unbothered.
“You don’t have to worry about that. I’m a servant of the divine. Blessings are only given to those who are permitted. Regardless of status or background, I follow the will of the one I serve.”
Frey brought his teacup to his lips, still smiling.
“These days, I hear their voice constantly in my head—telling me to bless those who can stand against the coming darkness. To make them vessels of the divine will.”
“Then… what about Danie? Did he also receive the role of a proxy?”
“That’s right. Danie has been blessed. And a few others as well… Whenever the chance presents itself, I grant it to those who can receive it.”
Ranshel leaned halfway over the table and asked earnestly,
“Then… that means the young master can receive it too, right?”
He’d been wondering for a while now.
The one who should be receiving Frey’s blessing was already obvious.
‘This is Zavad’s route, after all.’
But if even Danie and the others had gotten additional skills, it made no sense that Zavad hadn’t yet.
“Yes, if the opportunity arises.”
“…So it’s just not the right time yet?”
“Unfortunately.”
Ranshel crumpled the tablecloth with his fingers.
‘Why isn’t it time yet?’
It couldn’t be due to low affection levels.
Zavad had long since fallen completely for Frey.
Ranshel, feeling heavy inside, began shoveling spoonfuls of cake into his mouth.
At this point, he had a rough grasp of the situation.
Regardless of who it was, before forming a bond with Frey, they had to go through one final step: breaking the curse left by the demon that had frozen Frey’s legs.
In the story, this took the form of sending the divine proxies into a demon dungeon.
In the game, it was simplified into a mini-game.
You could form a party of characters designated as divine proxies, and the battle played out automatically, making the difficulty relatively low.
However, only characters who had received Frey’s blessing could be part of the party.
In this route, the number of strategy targets who received blessings directly influenced the success rate of clearing the dungeon.
Normally, someone like Danie—just an extra—wouldn’t be the target of the story.
It should’ve been one of the capture targets.
But ever since arriving in the capital, it had become clear that things weren’t playing out as they were supposed to.
So no, it wasn’t exactly surprising anymore.
Besides, all of this was meant to happen after his death anyway, so he’d never really cared that much.
But now, with Frey no longer behaving like the heroine he once knew, something deeply troubling had started to gnaw at him.
This is a romance game.
And the heroine—no, the protagonist—is supposed to end up with one of the capture targets.
So if Zavad clearly has enough affection for Frey, yet still hasn’t received the divine blessing…
‘Could it be… he doesn’t know Frey is a guy?’
He had no way of knowing how much this absurd twist in the setting might alter the story.
After swallowing the last bite of cake, Ranshel cautiously opened his mouth.
“By any chance… Young Master, do you also know the Saint’s secret?”
“Yes. We already talked about it on the day of the entrance exam.”
“…Ah.”
Then why hasn’t the blessing happened yet?
What on earth is going on with Zavad that he hasn’t received something that should’ve triggered long ago along that route?
Sipping his tea with a sullen expression, Ranshel suddenly froze at Frey’s next words.
“That’s why this engagement contract is moving forward.”
“…Excuse me?”
“Because the Young Lord has no interest in me. That makes it easier for me to get my way.”
Ranshel silently opened and closed his mouth.
Frey continued, gently cradling his teacup.
“I didn’t want to end up like the Empress. Forced into a marriage and pregnancy I didn’t want, living my life as nothing more than a pawn of the imperial family… That’s not the future I want.”
Frey had completely misunderstood.
And the moment Ranshel realized that, he became certain.
‘This is the problem!’
Because Frey wasn’t accepting Zavad’s affection at all, the divine blessing hadn’t been granted.
Since Frey couldn’t see the affection gauge like in the game, he had misunderstood—thinking Zavad had no feelings for him whatsoever.
This was something Ranshel had to fix.
He leaned over the table so far it was almost like he was about to lie on it, and burst out:
“You’re wrong, Saint! The Young Lord is absolutely in love with you!”
“…”
Frey hastily put down his teacup and covered his mouth with his hand, clearly flustered by something he hadn’t even considered.
Opportunities like this—to talk to Frey alone—were rare.
If the misunderstanding was going to be cleared up, now was the time. Ranshel quickly pressed on.
“You’ve misunderstood everything. The Young Lord would never use you. In fact, he’d do anything for you. If you wished it, he’d put his life on the line to fight the demons for your sake. That’s how much he loves you.”
“…”
Frey now had both hands covering his face.
‘Did that… move him?’
This was his chance! Ranshel decided to drop a truth bomb that would make it impossible for Frey to ignore Zavad’s feelings any longer.
“Actually, the Young Lord… he fell for you at first sight. The day he met you at Viscount Benders’ estate! He’s just been too shy to show it properly since then!”
“…Hhk.”
Now, Frey was almost collapsed over the table, seemingly overwhelmed by emotion.
Emboldened by the reaction, Ranshel exclaimed even more passionately:
“If you open your heart to him, I truly believe the two of you can become a deeply loving couple and live happily ever after! The Young Lord would only ever have eyes for you…!”
Regardless of Frey’s gender, the core of the game hadn’t changed.
Frey would bring happiness to Zavad.
The game was meant to end with their marriage—a happy ending, no matter what.
“So please, accept the Young Lord’s love—!”
He didn’t get to finish the sentence.
Someone suddenly pulled him back with an arm slung firmly around his shoulders from behind.
* * *
