Every Morning, My Mirror Saves the World - Chapter 56

The Battle of Golden Rose Castle ultimately ended in victory for the human Allied Forces.

Most of the Orc Legion that Orc King Kandaru expended tremendous effort to transport was intercepted beyond space by the Sword of Shadow. The knight order led by the Holy Silver Knight Galahad and Prince Juvina’s mages effectively annihilated the remaining troops. Orc King Kandaru was severely wounded by Lars, then Deputy Commander of the Alliance Army, and forced to retreat to the underground world.

Though only a small-scale surprise attack, the Battle of Golden Rose Castle officially fired the opening shot in the full-scale war between humanity and the Orcs.

—Excerpt from *A General History of the Continent*, published one hundred years later.

At present, however, the peerless hero repeatedly mentioned in such immortal classics as *A History of War*, *Legends of Heroes*, and *Lars Through My Eyes (by Galahad and Vigia)* was not remotely infected by the joy of victory.

Deputy Commander Lars, fresh from triumph, stood frowning outside an unlocked door and paced back and forth. At regular intervals, he scratched pathetically at it and whimpered, “Ruiyin… will you let me in?”

“The door isn’t locked,” came an utterly indifferent voice from within.

“…But you’re angry. If I go inside, won’t that make you even angrier?” he murmured, touching his fingertips together.

“Oh? Am I angry? Aren’t I always like this?” The person inside spoke with serene detachment as paper gave a heartrending scream of abuse.

Silence fell outside for a moment. Then came another weak whine.

“I was wrong… Ruiyin, let me in. You taught me that an apology is more sincere face-to-face. You can’t go back on your word…”

Ruiyin stared at the document she had not turned a page of for ages. Her quill hovered in the air for a long moment. Finally, she scrawled a heavy *Denied* at the bottom, crumpled the page with unnecessary violence, and tossed it across the room onto the pile marked *Processed*.

Tio cautiously glanced at the obviously foul-tempered Ruiyin, gave a dry cough, and casually put down her pen.

“Oh, so I can simply deny everything? I understand. I can handle the rest by myself tomorrow. In that case, I’ll just—”

“Get back here.”

Ruiyin grabbed Her Majesty by the collar as she tried to escape, hauled her back, and planted her beside the pile of documents. Pointing viciously at the things on the table, she lectured, “The only proposals you’re allowed to deny automatically are the ones saying, ‘Your Majesty, I want to join your harem.’ These must be read and approved. These must be examined carefully, with constructive comments addressing every point. Get to work!”

Tio rolled her face miserably across the documents. “Can we pretend I never asked you to help? You’re human! Why are you harder to deal with than a demon?! He went off to show off without taking you along. Do you really have to sulk over something that minor?”

“Unfortunately, no.” Ruiyin folded her arms and sneered. “And how am I sulking? Am I not very. Seriously. Teaching you how to review your subordinates’ documents correctly, Your Majesty?”

“I quit!” Tio sprang up and bared her teeth at Ruiyin. “You’re only a human! One tiny spell and you would immediately—”

“Really?” Ruiyin pulled the mirror from her waist and made as if to knock.

Tio silently rolled back to the table, broad rivers of tears streaming down her face as she resumed chewing through the paperwork.

“Hey, what are you actually thinking?” Tio asked around the pen she was biting, her expression deeply miserable.

“About what?”

“You know.” Tio jerked her chin toward the door, where pathetic scratching continued. “You obviously care about him. Why not let him in and have a proper talk?”

“Oh? Do I care?” Ruiyin turned a page of her book without changing expression. “What he does is entirely his choice.”

The black-haired, black-eyed woman reclined against a divan. The old parchment volume in her hands carried the scent of sun-warmed paper. Her expression was mild; whenever her quill moved, she tilted her head slightly. The sight was so beautiful one could almost forget how much venom she spat whenever she opened her mouth.

“Um, your book…” Tio ruthlessly exposed reality. “I think you’re holding it upside down.”

Ruiyin lowered the book and looked at her without expression. “…I’ll summon Mordova and have him teach you how to process documents.”

“…Look, men are simple. Whether you want one depends entirely on whether you like him. If you want him, sleep with him. If you don’t, throw him away. Either is fine. But what are you doing? You obviously care, yet you’re making both of you suffer. That’s awful!” Summoning her courage, Tio defended the prime cut of meat she had her eye on.

“I do care about him,” Ruiyin said slowly, setting down the book. “But it has nothing whatsoever to do with the filthy ‘sleep with him’ inside your head.”

“Oh? What do you care about, then?” Tio asked with interest.

“His performance this time was adequate. He didn’t panic when war broke out unexpectedly. He arranged civilian evacuation and shelter, mobilized military supplies, established the gate’s defenses, and deployed the troops. Those parts were reasonably well done,” Ruiyin analyzed.

“But as deputy commander, he charged out first to play hero and handed the crucial responsibility of defending the city to that idiot Galahad. Absolutely terrible! Add and subtract everything, and he barely passes. Most importantly…”

Ruiyin raised her head. Her sharp gaze seemed capable of piercing the door.

“Even if Mordova really was the one who drove Kandaru away, as the team’s spiritual leader, Lars had to claim he did it! At such a critical moment, he didn’t understand the need to lie and handed all the credit to a completely useless man. Unbelievably stupid!”

Ruiyin looked at Tio, whose entire worldview had abruptly collapsed, and tapped the document solemnly.

“I expect you to address the same problem in your response to this report, which does nothing but sing praises. Warn those generals that such a mistake must never happen again!”

To think Tio had expected to hear a soft reason such as *I didn’t want him to leave me alone* or *Even in war, I want to stand beside him*.

For the first time, Tio felt she was far too innocent.

The scratching outside suddenly stopped. An unfamiliar male voice spoke respectfully.

“Lord Lars, every stage of the baptism has been prepared. His Highness asks that you proceed to the Temple of the God of War as soon as possible.”

Lars answered with steady authority, “I see. Tell him I will arrive shortly. You may go.”

“Yes.”

Respectful footsteps gradually receded.

The instant they vanished, the scratching resumed. The miserable whimper that followed sounded as though it came from a completely different person.

“Ruiyin… I was wrong. I promise I won’t tell them the truth again. I’ll study hard and learn how to lie. Juvina is sending me to solitary confinement at the Temple of the God of War. I’ll be so lonely and miserable all by myself. Ruiyin, will you come out and keep me company?”

Under Tio’s =o= stare, Ruiyin rubbed her forehead, walked over, and opened the door.

The deputy commander who had been shut out for so long instantly crowded close and presented the self-criticism he had just finished writing while crouched on the floor.

Ruiyin accepted it, stuffed it into her pocket without looking, and stared sternly at him. “What’s this about solitary confinement?”

“It’s the prayer before battle,” Lars answered obediently. “Before war, the commander of the knights must enter the Temple of the God of War and receive the baptism of War God Xisaluo and the cleansing radiance of holy light. They say this earns the God of War’s favor and brings victory to the army.”

“You can go by yourself. Something like this has absolutely no need for me—”

“It takes three days. I’ll fall apart if I can’t see you for three days QAQ…” Lars said.

“I’m not—”

“You’ve never seen what Lord Xisaluo looks like. Haven’t you always been curious?” His eyes glittered with expectation.

“Actually, I—”

“I’m about to go to war. What if I never return? Ruiyin, can’t you even grant my final wish?” He gazed at her reproachfully.

“…Fine. I’ll go.”

Everyone who aspired to become a knight arrived at the empire’s sacred Temple of the God of War after passing a grueling examination.

They knelt before the statue, reverently kissed the ground beneath the God of War’s throne, and swore the knight’s oath. Then their liege personally bestowed the title of knight upon them.

Lars, Galahad, and every knight in the official rolls had been born this way.

Though the greatest paladin, Xisaluo, had left this world two hundred years ago, his divine power continued to shelter it.

A god who could not rest even after death truly had it rough.

The Sunan Empire’s Temple of the God of War stood at the northernmost end of the capital. Guarded by temple knights, it was seldom open to visitors.

Only Lars and Ruiyin occupied the immense temple. Their footsteps echoed emptily beneath a dome more than thirty feet high, making the place feel as hollow as another world.

For the first time since arriving in this world, Ruiyin saw the legendary god Lars had mentioned again and again.

The statue, carved from white Notra Stone, depicted a young man. He stood magnificently in sacred armor bright with starlight, wielding the Sword of Shadow. Every muscle of his athletic body radiated masculine appeal.

Above that imposing physique, however, the face was blank.

Ruiyin turned to Lars with a deadpan look and accused him, “You lied to me. You said I could see what he looked like here.”

Lars smiled and shook his head. “I didn’t lie. This truly is what Lord Xisaluo looks like.”

“He doesn’t have a face?”

“No. In the minstrels’ legends, Xisaluo was once the most handsome man in the world. Even the proud Frost Queen loved him deeply and laid down her scepter of war for him. But to those of us under his protection, his appearance no longer matters.”

“Why?”

Lars raised his head and gazed at the statue’s blank face.

“Because… he brought us victory, glory, and light. To humanity, he is a god. He is hope. He is the most indestructible image we possess. Even though he has left this world, what he left behind still inspires us.”

As if something had occurred to her, Ruiyin looked up. “That sounds…”

“It sounds like the knights from your homeland that you told me about, doesn’t it?” Lars smiled at her. “I think I understand some of what you said to me. For a knight, the most important thing is not loyalty to another person, but loyalty to one’s own heart. Lord Xisaluo never had a liege his entire life, yet that did not prevent him from becoming the greatest paladin.”

“I will become like him.”

Kneeling before the statue, he straightened his back as he spoke.

Ruiyin was not a worshiper of the God of War, so she had no need to kneel as Lars did. She sat casually on the stone at the statue’s feet. Her elevated position gave her a clear view of everything below.

Sunlight poured through the openwork dome and dyed the young man’s handsome face brilliant gold. His reverent expression, his kneeling posture, the difference in height between them…

For one instant, Ruiyin almost thought he was prostrating himself in worship before her.

“Perhaps I am only an insignificant apprentice knight now, but one day I will become a hero like Xisaluo. Just as strong, brave, and indestructible. When that day comes, every sentence I write will become an oracle to this world.”

His clear green eyes met hers openly.

“When that day comes, listen to what I have to say again.”

Author’s Note:

The deputy commander changes genres in one second: When I become the strongest man in the world, you can reconsider whether you want me on top. (Stares hungrily, tail wagging.)