Outside the Castle Edelstein, a carriage bearing the obsidian sunburst crest of the Holy Church stood parked. Its polished frame gleamed with self-importance under the morning light. Inside the Count's study, the atmosphere was tenser than a swordstring.
Count Aurelius von Edelstein sat at his desk, blue eyes sharp behind reading glasses. His finger tapped the armrest in a slow, controlled rhythm. Across from him, dressed in pristine white-and-scarlet robes, sat a nun—young, with an eerie calm that clung to her like a funeral veil. Behind her stood a knight clad in silver armor, the Church's sunburst engraved across his chestplate.
"You found her during a heretic cultist ritual," the nun said politely, sipping her tea like this was a casual chat about flower arrangements. "The Church formally requests custody of the girl. She may appear docile, but she's clearly a summoned entity. Our resources are better suited to her purification and containment."
Count Aurelius said nothing. His jaw twitched.
"This is an act of goodwill," she added. "To protect your County and strengthen our relationship."
Then, just before leaving, the nun turned at the door as though remembering something trivial. "How's Regina? Still painting, I imagine."
His knuckles turned white on the armrest. But his face was a mask. "She's doing fine."
The nun smiled. "I see. Farewell, Count Aurelius von Edelstein."
When the door shut, Rose—his sister-in-law and Commander of the County Guard—let out a scoff that practically growled. "The nerve of those bastards."
Aurelius removed his glasses, massaging the bridge of his nose. "It seems the Church's patience is thinning. We may become their next target."
Rose sat down across from him. "Regina and her maid were attacked yesterday. A lunatic screaming holy nonsense. Likely Church-sent. Regina… handled it. In her way."
Aurelius let out a sigh—a long, familiar one. "Still pulling people's strings, I see. Maybe a change of scenery will do the girl some good."
---
Meanwhile, I was in my room. My tiny sanctuary.
I glanced at the blue screen still hovering in front of me, and then at her—the White Pawn. My mirror, my soldier, my other self.
[Pawn Code: H2
Position: King's side
Alignment: White
Status: Active]
"The Countess really had a lot of skeletons in her closet," I muttered, "and I don't mean her grave—"
Stomp.
"Ow!"
The pawn had stepped on my foot, her expression tight. "Have some respect."
The system chimed in, smug. I like her. Finally, someone with a spine.
I glanced at the pawn, tilting my head. "You'll need a change of outfit. Let's not scare Regina."
---
We knocked on Regina's door.
She was lounging on her bed, a leather-bound book in her hand and a half-bored, half-predatory look in her mismatched eyes. When she saw the pawn—dressed now in one of the spare maid outfits—she sat up, her face lighting up like she'd just unwrapped a present early.
"Oh?" she purred. "Interesting. Explain."
Before I could open my mouth, she hopped off the bed and closed the distance, eyes flicking between me and my twin like a cat inspecting two mice. I could feel the smug pressure of the system watching from the back of my mind.
"Tea first," she said, plopping down in a chair. "And cookies. I expect answers after sweets."
---
As I fetched the tea, something gnawed at the back of my mind.
The pawn. The attack. The nun. The hidden eyes of the Church peering into the County like a knife waiting for an excuse to twist. The military drills here too—so modern, so strangely familiar. Cadence, formations, even terminology I knew from Earth.
I thought I was the first. The only.
But the Countess—Regina's mother—had rewritten this world's military system, taught people mana wasn't divine but energetic, and made enemies of the Church.
She'd been one of us.
And now she was dead.
Checkmate, huh?
I looked at my Pawn. She sipped tea like she belonged in this world. Like she'd always been there.
The game's already started.
I'm just trying to figure out if I'm the player…
…or the piece.