The Academy’s Weapon Replicator

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Elysia opened her eyes. It was a fierce awakening, as if she had taken a deep breath.

"Where is this...?"

Looking around, she found herself in a hospital room.

What happened? Wasn't I dead? Or is this what the afterlife looks like?

Just as she was pondering these questions, the door creaked open.

"You're awake."

The one who entered was her sister, Sale.

Elysia asked,

"How am I still alive?"

"Well, that's not something you should be asking me, is it?"

That made sense.

Elysia felt oddly that Sale was being cold to her.

Sale was changing the water in the vase next to Elysia's bed and asked,

"How do you feel?"

"...Fine. Unbelievably so."

"That's good. It should be."

After changing the water, Sale's hands paused momentarily with the vase in grasp.

"Today is your last day as a princess."

"..."

So that was it.

That's why Sale was being so cold.

"Why did you do it?"

"..."

A direct question. Elysia had nothing to say and closed her mouth.

Sale spoke with a deeper intensity in his eyes.

"Sister. Do you know who will inherit the throne now?"

"Who is it?"

"Me."

"..."

"Silly sister. Why go through all this? If you wanted to be the Empress, you just had to wait. Why bother with this?"

Like Elysia, Sale was an ordinary person. In terms of political capability, she was considered inferior to Elysia.

Giving up the throne to Sale meant that Elysia's position as heir was predetermined. Sale pointed this out to her.

"Even so, I would have done this."

"Why?"

"Because I can't trust father."

Emperor, Bartello Terst.

Elysia was convinced that Sale was the rightful successor to the throne. Because she had failed.

To instill regret in Elysia and dispel the people's suspicions, Sale, not Aten or Roderick, is placed on the throne.

Because Bartello was indeed the person to do so.

Bartello never intended to give the throne to Elysia. To Elysia, that was the truth.

“No.”

Sale said.

“You didn’t distrust father. You distrusted yourself.”

“Maybe.”

Maybe.

And maybe that’s why she had lived a life full of doubts.

-Elysia. Among my children, you are the most like me. Your mother worries about that.

Words once spoken by Philly. Now, they made sense.

Elysia inherited Philly's analytical skills, political acumen, and the trait of ‘doubt’. And though it’s somewhat self-deprecating to say, she also inherited some of the worse traits.

On the other hand, Aten inherited Philly’s magical talent, the power of her lineage, and her goodness.

Two daughters of the grey Philly. Black and white.

In that sense.

“...Maybe.”

“Maybe, Sale, it was right for you to become the Empress.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You can handle both.”

Confused by the incomprehensible words, Sale frowned.

"......Anyway, are you okay, sister? If things go on like this, you'll end up as a commoner after prison life. You might have to live under people's finger-pointing for the rest of your life."

"I'm not okay, but that's my fate. I was supposed to die anyway.”

Supposed to die.

...Come to think of it, how am I still alive?

The dagger given to Philly by Frondier was said to be poisoned.

After being slightly pricked, I lost all sensation and passed out.

“So, who is it in the end?”

“Who?”

"The one who messed up your plan. I saw the scene of the incident. There are only a few who could inflict such wounds on a Chimera."

"…Didn't mom tell you?"

At Elysia's question, Sale shook his head.

I see. So, hiding the existence of the Frondier was the plan.

That was Philly's strategy. Elysia was completely outplayed by that strategy. She also failed in this plan because she didn't know about the power of the Frondier.

The Frondier who slew the Chimera in a single stroke. Of course, the Chimera was already wounded from the previous fight, but he was winning the fight on his own from the beginning.

A Chimera is a conglomeration of all sorts of magical beasts, so while its physical abilities are superior, its intelligence is extremely low. It's a far cry from any noble lineage because it lacks any foundation of its own species.

However, its skin is definitely that of a dragon, so normal attacks wouldn’t even leave a scratch. Yet, almost the entire left side of the Chimera was sliced off.

‘…Such a person is a first-year at Constel…’

What kind of monster are they raising, does Constel know?

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