10.
“The Imperial Knights’ Tournament is finally here!”
The streets buzzed with festive excitement.
The Imperial Knights’ Tournament—Rodnis’s grandest spectacle, held for the first time in over a decade—had long been the talk of the town. With gambling and thrilling combat on offer, it was hard not to get caught up in the fervor.
What’s more, the participants were not just local thugs, but renowned knights! It was an event that captivated everyone, from children to housewives.
“This is our chance to finally see which of the Empire’s top knights is truly the best, instead of just hearing about it.”
Even knights who usually avoided such events found themselves with no escape after the Imperial Archbishop declared, “All members of the pilgrimage group must participate!”
“Who is the greatest knight of the Empire?”
The public’s attention gradually shifted to this question.
It was around this time that Marigold’s days began to grow increasingly hectic.
———
[Fallen Noblewoman Simulation]
Schedule for the fourth week of June:
Monday – Church etiquette lessons.
Tuesday – Prayer service at the Holy Maiden Church.
Wednesday – Modeling for artistic works.
Thursday – Modeling for artistic works.
Friday – Beginner horseback riding lessons (Location: the mansion).
Saturday – Beginner horseback riding lessons (Location: fallow fields).
Sunday – Accompanying the demonic beast hunt (Location: the forest).
※This week will be hectic! If the goddess is watching, she will surely bless our diligent Marigold, won’t she?
———
[Monday: Church etiquette lessons.]
Thud.
“Ugh.”
Marigold flinched as she felt something hard being placed on the crown of her head.
It was a thick book. On top of the book, a teacup was gently balanced.
“You must not drop it.”
Hesti adjusted Marigold’s posture with her hands.
“Keep your head up. Tuck your chin. Now, walk calmly. Watch your shoulders—do not let them rise.”
“Ugh, ah. Ah!”
Marigold stumbled and fell forward with a thud.
If not for the large hand that caught her, she would have landed face-first.
“Lan…”
Sir Lancel. Marigold stopped herself mid-sentence.
“Lancel, my disciple.”
“It’s a little embarrassing to be called that.”
“But you told me to call you that…!” Marigold, realizing she was about to raise her voice, startled and lowered her tone.
“…right.”
“Of course, Mary.”
“I feel like you’re teasing me.”
“It’s just your imagination, Mary.”
Marigold awkwardly adjusted her bangs. She seemed utterly unaccustomed to Lancel’s formal demeanor towards her. Every time he addressed her with such formality, she desperately turned her upper body away, trying to hide her expression.
“Then let’s try again. Please straighten your posture.”
“Yes, yes!”
Under Hesti’s guidance, Marigold’s posture correction continued for an entire day.
[Tuesday: Prayer service at the Holy Maiden Church]
By now, eleven Holy Maiden Churches had been established in the Imperial Capital of Rodnis and its surrounding areas.
Even though the space was just a room with a solitary statue of the Saintess, where anyone passing by could wander in and shout prayers like, “Let a sack of gold coins fall right before my eyes!” without anyone batting an eye, it was still a church.
Marigold frequented the Holy Maiden Church whenever she had the chance, sharing the prayers she had learned with the people.
“O god of the dawn, who splits the night, we thank you for the blessed encounters of this day. May blessings always be upon all our neighbors.”
“May blessings be upon you.”
To the uneducated, who thought churches were just places to babble whatever came to mind, Marigold was like a teacher.
One week.
Two weeks.
One month.
Two months.
Lancel watched as visitors of the churches gradually fell under Marigold’s spell.
It was no wonder. Dozens of letters arrived at the mansion daily, written on paper, clay tablets, wooden boards, and every other imaginable medium.
Without even bothering to read them, he knew they were all expressions of devotion to Marigold.
“You’ve become quite popular already, Mary.”
“……”
Marigold could only blush at Lancel’s teasing.
In every village they visited, young men and children lined up to greet Marigold, waiting for her arrival. It had all happened in just a few months.
“The gods are cruel. To blind someone like her…”
“What nonsense. It’s precisely her blindness that makes the priestess Mary so sublime.”
Lancel attributed their reactions to Marigold’s appearance, clad in pure white vestments—he believed it was the unique mystique emanating from her quiet demeanor and the way she moved with her eyes closed.
Even Lancel, whose senses regarding women had grown numb over centuries, occasionally found himself mesmerized. How much more so would others be affected?
Marigold’s every gesture, refined by Hesti’s etiquette training, seemed to radiate an almost divine aura.
“Disciple Lancel, where are you?”
“……”
Marigold wandered through the field, silhouetted against the setting sun.
For a moment, Lancel felt lost in nostalgia. Her figure reminded him of someone from a distant memory.
He quietly approached and took her hand.
“Mary, it’s time to return to the mansion.”
“I thought you’d disappeared.”
Lancel chuckled as he watched Mary, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She seemed genuinely sulky, her usual chatter subdued that day.
[Wednesday–Thursday: Modeling for artistic works]
Crash!
“No! My artwork! My lifelong masterpiece!”
The statue toppled under Lancel’s kick, shattering into countless pieces. The head, resembling Marigold, rolled across the workshop floor into a corner.
“Who told you to make whatever you felt like? I asked you for something simple and calm.”
“Y-you call yourself a knight, but your aesthetic sense is worse than a common vagrant! The statue you just destroyed was a masterpiece that would have been etched into the history of this Empire—no, this entire continent!”
“If you were so dissatisfied, you should have simply clothed it. Why strip a perfectly good statue naked?”
“Hic!”
Marigold flinched at Lancel’s menacing tone, finally grasping the gravity of the situation.
The sculptor’s eyes darted away from Lancel, focusing on some distant point.
“…Eros is art…”
“You, who pursues Eros in artwork meant for display in a church, are the true demon here.”
“Then what choice do I have? If the artistic spirit coiled within me is demonic, then that too is my fate!”
Lancel seized the sculptor by his beard and held it in a tight grip.
“Aaaah! My beard!”
“Put it back to normal and send it back while I’m still being reasonable. Otherwise, I’ll sell you off as a demon worshiper.”
“Hah, just do it, just…!”
That night…
“Disciple Lancel, um, did you happen to… see everything in detail?”
“Of course,” Lancel replied without hesitation. “How could I not see what was right in front of me?”
“……”
Marigold quietly backed away. Lancel simply didn’t want to lie.
[Friday: Beginner horseback riding lessons (Location: the mansion)]
“Don’t be afraid.”
“Haa… haa… hic!”
The presence of the snorting horse had turned Marigold pale as a ghost since morning. To someone who couldn’t see, a horse must feel like a fearsome beast.
“I-is this really an animal that someone like me can ride?”
“A noble steed recognizes its master.”
“Kyaa!”
He swiftly pulled her arm and seated her before him.
“Nothing special, is it? Don’t just sit there—stroke the horse’s mane.”
Marigold brushed the horse’s golden mane with trembling hands. The animal had white fur with golden highlights.
Asking a blind person to ride a horse might seem reckless, but with a horse as exceptional as this one, it was quite the opposite. This magnificent creature would become her eyes and feet.
“How about it? There’s nothing better in my stable.”
“Let me take a quick spin.”
“As much as you want.”
Seeing Baron Ibil Shen’s confident expression, Lancel took hold of the reins.
“Let’s go, slowly.”
As the horse ambled forward at a leisurely pace, Lancel could feel Marigold pressing close against his back.
The tips of her ears had turned bright red, betraying just how terrified she was.
“Should we speed things up a little?”
Marigold’s startled scream echoed far across the fields, trailing after the horse.
[Saturday: Beginner horseback riding lessons (Location: fallow fields)]
“It’s already been a year.”
In the wheat fields that stretched beyond the horizon, wild grasses grew lush.
Lancel and Marigold, mounted on horseback, rode through the deserted fallow field for some time.
Marigold, who seemed to have become accustomed to gripping the reins, followed his movements.
==========
—Beginner horseback riding has now been mastered. Marigold has learned a little about the emotions that horses feel. Together, even the vast open fields are not scary.
==========
‘As expected, the protagonist’s buff.’
In just two days, Marigold was able to learn how to ride a horse despite her visual impairment. It was a natural talent.
“You’re not going to ask, are you?”
Lancel’s sudden question carried a weight of unspoken meaning.
Marigold seemed to already know what Lancel meant.
“Because I was happy.”
“About what?”
“That I could be of help.”
Master.
“……”
How many times had Marigold lived this life?
Twenty-two?
No, twenty-three?
Having repeated this cycle dozens of times, she lived slightly different lives each time, appearing in various forms. Yet, something fundamental remained unchanged.
But Lancel was different.
He was a man who had lived his life confirming the ever-changing self that greeted him each time he opened his eyes. He had been worn down, chipped away at, until he had become something almost inorganic.
He had been granted time approaching infinity, yet he knew with bitter certainty that it was only a matter of time before he slowly lost his sense of self within it.
There had been countless moments when he felt he couldn’t endure any longer. This was true until he found the “answer” in Marigold.
‘Make Marigold open her eyes.’
This wasn’t for her sake. It was purely for Lancel’s interest.
‘If you don’t open your eyes, I won’t survive.’
What would she say if he told her that?
“……”
For some reason, Lancel felt he already knew the answer.
“Shall we head back? I’m getting hungry.”
“Yes.”
11.
The pilgrimage group’s misdeeds were welcomed news to Lancel.
His next task was to establish not just one or two, but a staggering two hundred Holy Maiden Churches—the churches of Marigold—across the land.
To achieve this, only one thing truly mattered: spreading awareness. Marketing, or, to put it more pleasantly, “missionary work.”
‘The Holy Maiden Church is all the rage these days! Why is that? I can’t stand yet another trend!’
Lancel knew that even if he poured all his energy into building churches himself, he’d struggle to reach even fifty.
But what if others built them on their own?
What if he no longer needed to invest his own money, time, and effort into building these churches?
At least, Lancel sensed the potential in that idea.
“The answer is rivalry.”
From now on, Lancel intended to manipulate the pilgrimage group’s emotions.
This would prove invaluable in the upcoming Imperial Knights’ Tournament.
After all, there was no better means of missionary work.
* * *
[Sunday: Accompanying the demonic beast hunt (Location: the forest)]
The pilgrimage group’s encampment buzzed with activity. Knights, local guides, and priestesses from various orders crowded the edge of the forest, preparing to hunt the demons rumored to lurk within.
Their attention was suddenly drawn to two newcomers, a man and a woman.
The woman had golden hair and wore an unusual snow-white blindfold that completely covered her eyes. Despite her apparent blindness, she rode her horse with unwavering confidence.
The group stared at her in astonishment, having never seen such an appearance before.
“What is this?” spoke Duke Meryll Dunn, the leader of the pilgrimage group. “What brings you here?”
The man beside the blindfolded woman answered. “Why else would we enter a demon-infested forest armed with swords, Your Grace?”
“It seems that my request for your names was not conveyed. You still seem like a mere child—…”
“Lancel Dante.” The man cut off Duke Dunn’s words.
Duke Dunn’s gaze turned even more menacing, but Lancel remained unfazed.
“I am a knight of the Holy Maiden Church. This is priestess Mary, our temple master and high priestess.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
“Is that the Lancel Dante, who entered the Imperial Knights’ Tournament?”
“I heard he was some country bumpkin from the provinces that made it through the preliminaries…”
“Holy Maiden Church? What is that? I’ve never even heard of it.”
The name Lancel Dante seemed to be well-known among the pilgrimage group, though mostly with the impression of “a hick from the frontier” or “a nobody from a minor order.”
Duke Dunn’s lips twisted in disdain. “We do not need the help of other orders to deal with demons. You may withdraw immediately.”
“Instead of turning us away, please allow us to assist. Our priestess Mary had a premonition last night and urged us to hurry. Do you truly intend to refuse us so coldly?”
Duke Dunn’s expression soured.
“An unlucky start…”
Duke Dunn wanted to roar at them to get lost.
But the fact that a self-proclaimed “priestess” had sensed ill omens made him uneasy about sending her away.
After all, despite belonging to different orders, they ultimately served the same god.
“If you become a hindrance, I’ll send you packing immediately. Understand?”
“We will never get in your way, Your Grace.”
“All talk and no substance. Viscount Dante must have had his hands full with you. Tsk, tsk.” Duke Dunn clicked his tongue and turned away.
He considered Lancel Dante utterly useless anyway.
The pilgrimage group would never be in danger, and someone like Lancel Dante could never steal their glory.
But something was wrong. From the moment they entered the forest, truly bizarre things began to happen to the pilgrimage group.
“Priestess Mary, bless me.”
“May the protection of the Saintess be upon you.”
Mary, with her eyes covered, reached out to Lancel Dante, who also had his eyes closed and gripped his sword tightly.
“Lancel Dante, you have grown stronger now.”
At that moment, a faint light began to emanate from Lancel’s body. An inexplicable magical power enveloped him, bright enough to illuminate the dim forest.
“Ah, this is the blessing of the Saintess…”
Lancel’s face filled with a rapturous expression.
The pilgrimage group could only watch this strange sequence of events unfold with bewildered eyes.
placebo effect