Chapter 23 – The Unexpected Variable

The news of a close associate of the Princess being killed by a magical beast caught everyone off guard, but I was undoubtedly the one most shaken by it.

This didn’t happen last time.

Who was that priestess? Was it Rachel Hulster? Was it the Princess herself in disguise? Or someone else entirely?

It was unlikely to be anyone else. It wouldn’t make sense for the Princess to head to the front lines with two different priestesses in tow.

My first instinct was that Claire might have decided to tie up loose ends, disposing of Rachel once she was no longer useful. But that didn’t add up; it was too risky. In my first isekai life, Claire had waited until the official coronation ceremony to reveal her true face. The current situation hadn’t changed enough to warrant such a drastic shift.

Or could my secret meeting with Rachel have triggered some kind of butterfly effect?

My palms broke out in a cold sweat. Without Rachel, my plans would hit a massive wall. Moreover, if she died because of my actions, the guilt would be unbearable.

Frantic over this sudden turn of events, I wanted to grab one of the candidates and demand the truth. But as for who I could actually talk to right now…

Before I could think further, I saw Lealia suddenly weaving through the crowd toward me. Her brows were knitted tight, as if she were carrying a heavy burden.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

Lealia nodded, her voice barely a whisper. “I’m fine. It’s just… can we talk in private for a moment?”

Knowing she had a secret to share, I replied instantly, “How about the garden between the two dormitories?”

Lealia gave a quick nod. The crowd was still preoccupied with Iris’s sobbing and the explanations of the other candidates, so no one noticed the two of us slipping away in silence.

The garden was deserted. Even so, Lealia remained visibly anxious. She spent a long time scanning our surroundings to ensure no one was passing by before finally murmuring:

“I… I want to renounce my position as a Hero candidate.”

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I asked calmly, “Why?”

The chestnut-haired girl interlaced her fingers, her thumbs twitching with restless agitation.

“This place is too complicated. Perhaps it’s just not for me.”

I found her reaction a bit puzzling. If Lealia were simply traumatized by seeing someone die in their first deployment, she should have used words like “terrifying” or “stressful.” Why “complicated”?

“Do you feel like you aren’t cut out for fighting?”

Lealia continued to evade the question.