Chapter 4: When the Divine Looks Back
The Imperial Academy never truly slept.
Even at night, mana lamps burned along the walkways, their pale glow washing the stone paths in artificial daylight. From my dormitory window, I could see silhouettes moving between towers—students, instructors, guards.
And watchers.
I felt them before I saw them.
Not through sight.
Through pressure.
Something brushed against the edge of my perception, distant yet invasive, like fingers testing a locked door.
I frowned.
That's new.
I closed my eyes and let Sixfold Perception expand—not fully, just enough to trace the disturbance.
The sensation wasn't hostile.
It was… curious.
Cold.
Orderly.
Divine.
"…The Church," I muttered.
In the original story, the Church of Radiant Order only took interest in the academy after Leonhardt revealed his blessing.
But now?
I moved the timeline.
A knock echoed through the room.
Sharp. Formal.
I opened my eyes.
"Enter."
The door swung open to reveal a man dressed in white and gold robes, embroidered with holy sigils that faintly resisted ambient mana. His silver hair was tied neatly behind his head, and his expression was serene to the point of artificiality.
Behind him stood two paladins.
Their eyes locked onto me the instant they crossed the threshold.
High-grade.
Very high-grade.
"Good evening," the priest said gently. "I am Inquisitor Halvar. We request a moment of your time."
Request.
With guards.
I gestured to the chair opposite my desk.
"Sit."
The paladins stiffened.
The inquisitor smiled and complied.
Polite.
Calculated.
"Today's entrance examination was… enlightening," Halvar continued. "Several instructors reported spatial distortions inconsistent with known magic systems."
"I didn't realize the Church handled academy evaluations now."
A subtle test.
His smile didn't falter.
"We handle anomalies."
There it was.
I leaned back slightly, careful not to let my irritation surface.
"Is being talented a crime?"
"No," he replied smoothly. "But abilities without divine lineage are… dangerous."
Ah.
So that's how they framed it.
I felt the pressure again—this time closer.
Something ancient stirred within my chest.
Not violently.
Hungrily.
I suppressed it immediately.
"Are you accusing House Ravencourt of heresy?" I asked quietly.
The temperature in the room dropped.
Even the paladins noticed.
Halvar's eyes sharpened for a fraction of a second.
"Of course not," he said. "We merely wish to observe."
"Observe what?"
"You."
I smiled.
Not warmly.
"Observation goes both ways."
His fingers tightened around the armrest.
Interesting.
"Tomorrow," he said after a pause, "you will undergo a divine compatibility test."
A command.
Not a request.
In the original story, this test happened months later—and nearly killed Leonhardt.
I stood.
The space between us subtly stretched.
Not enough to be obvious.
Enough to be felt.
"I'll attend," I said. "But understand this—"
I stepped closer.
The paladins tensed.
"I am not a miracle."
The inquisitor swallowed.
"I am not a blessing."
The demonic core stirred again, pressing against my ribs like a reminder.
"I am a problem."
Silence.
Halvar rose slowly.
"…We look forward to tomorrow."
When they left, the room felt smaller.
Heavier.
I exhaled and pressed a hand to my chest.
The pressure surged—then settled.
A warning.
[Alert]
Demonic Sovereign Core: Synchronization +2%
External Suppression Recommended
I grimaced.
"Already?"
The Church wasn't hunting me yet.
But it had noticed.
And once divinity noticed something it couldn't explain—
It tried to erase it.
I turned back to the window, gazing at the academy towers.
Leonhardt would shine soon.
The Church would adore him.
And me?
I closed my hand slowly.
"I'll make sure they never mistake me for a god."