The Protagonist's Party is Too Diligent

"...Then, I will gladly accompany you in this battle," Lena said, bowing her head slightly.

Her demeanor seemed as if she were trying to hide her expression. There was no need for me to force her to reveal it.

"Thank you," I replied courteously to Lena, then turned my attention to Sophia.

The moment our eyes met, Sophia's pupils trembled.

"Sophia, I need you—"

"Your Highness," Lena interrupted before I could finish.

"May I state my opinion first?"

"...Go ahead."

I nodded, somewhat anticipating what she might say. If both Lena and Sophia were to accompany me, it was crucial to address any misunderstandings—or more accurately, the tension—between them. Resolving potential conflicts early would be essential. Trust among allies was non-negotiable, especially when my life might depend on them in critical moments.

What I sought was not a tragic tale of a party unraveling due to mistrust but a path where we all survived and saw the story's conclusion together.

If anyone thought, Wouldn't it be better to go alone than risk party discord? they might not understand the situation. In the original game, heroines who were separated from the protagonist sometimes met untimely deaths. The game allowed a maximum of four party members, with two additional support characters rotating in combat.

Characters outside the party were relegated to "offscreen triggers." A heroine might be absent during critical moments, only to return as a bloodied corpse later. The protagonist could only witness their final breaths, unable to prevent their deaths.

While the deaths were partially determined by fixed triggers, conditions could change based on who was excluded. For instance, leaving Lottie and Jake out of the final party would result in Jake's death as he tried to protect Lottie. Similarly, mentors like Jennifer or Carolyn would sacrifice themselves for their students under certain circumstances.

If this world mirrored the game in any way, the safest option would be to gather all major characters near the protagonist, "Leo."

In the game, such tactics were impossible due to system limitations, but here, those restrictions didn't exist.

"Sophia Bianchi may very well be connected to the church we faced last night," Lena declared.

A reasonable conclusion. Anyone who remembered the cardinal's words to Sophia would think the same.

"Which means, if we are to face the Theocracy, she cannot be fully trusted," Lena said firmly.

It was essentially a declaration of distrust. Lena and Sophia's earlier squabble seemed to stem from this very suspicion, as Sophia had been tailing me.

If Lena wasn't also following me, what was she doing? Searching for me, perhaps? On the other hand, Sophia's actions might have been more overtly suspicious.

"..."

Sophia had no rebuttal to Lena's claim; even she must have found her behavior questionable.

So, I decided to speak up in Sophia's favor.

"I'm already aware of that."

Lena turned her gaze toward me, her expression a mixture of surprise and expectation.

Before I could elaborate, Sophia spoke first.

"Yes, that's correct. Her Highness has been aware of my true nature for some time. In fact, my orders to monitor her became meaningless as soon as she realized."

Whether Sophia had been observing me or not, I'd carried on as usual. Even if she reported my actions, how could anyone make sense of them? My movements, my uncanny foresight of the underground facility, and my preemptive countermeasures to the Theocracy's schemes would have left any observer at a loss.

"In that case—"

"But," Sophia cut Lena off before she could continue, her tone sharpening.

"I do have my own thoughts, you know?" 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

Whether out of irritation or a desire to assert herself, Sophia's voice took on a defiant edge. It was reminiscent of the Sophia from the original game, though hearing it now felt oddly refreshing.

In the original game, her voice might have been grating, but here, it was endearing to see Sophia finally stand her ground.

"From where I stand, it's clear that the emperor must be stopped—whether it's the Theocracy, the Empire, or anything else at stake. Her Highness has declared her intent to confront him. Even if I were aligned with the Theocracy, siding with Her Highness is the most rational choice right now."

She wasn't wrong. At this point, I was indeed the only one openly opposing the emperor.

"Even so—"

"Fine, then."

Before Lena could voice another objection, Sophia reached for her pendant with a sharp tug.

The teardrop-shaped silver ornament bore the profile of a woman. Though stylized and uncolored like a stained glass design, the etched lines suggested flowing hair and a serene beauty.

It was the symbol of the Goddess—a sacred emblem of the faith.

"I swear by the Goddess," Sophia declared. "Until this mission is complete, I will not act against Her Highness or those who follow her. I will not betray anyone. You understand the gravity of a vow sworn before the Goddess, don't you?"

"But what happens right after the mission ends—"

"Ugh, seriously!" Sophia groaned, exasperated.

She clutched the pendant tightly, raising it for all to see.

"I'll extend my vow! Even for several days after the mission, I swear not to act against Her Highness or her allies, whether for personal, religious, or any other reason. And!" she added, glaring at Lena, "I'll extend that to anyone deemed equal to Her Highness. I will not betray those I fight alongside. I swear this before the Goddess!"

As Sophia finished her outburst, a faint blue glow emanated from her clenched fist. For a moment, an intricate, translucent pattern appeared on the back of her hand.

It was the mark of the cathedral knights' vow.

False oaths were not uncommon, even among devout followers. But for the Theocracy's cathedral knights, sacred vows were binding, enforced by divine magic. Sophia's glowing mark was a testament to the authenticity of her promise.

"...Understood," Lena finally conceded.

Sophia smirked slightly, then sat back and grabbed her now-cold cup of tea, downing it in one go.

I had intended to bring her along regardless, but her solemn vow settled the matter.

Just as I was about to speak—

Knock, knock.

A knock echoed from the door.

"Come in," I called out.

The door opened hesitantly, revealing a maid I didn't recognize. Judging by her attire, she was part of the Lutetia Palace staff.

"Your Highness, His Majesty the King requests an audience with you."

The words were light, but their implications were heavy.

Had news finally come regarding the Theocracy's movements?