Chapter 16:

CHAPTER 10: THE CONCLAVE OF CHERFLAMMEN

The Demon Saint is Missing, so I Ran to Another World Vol. 11


**Greg**

A day after that talk with Princess Noir, her ‘brother’ Prince Hurion sent a letter to me. Enclosed was another letter, complete with his seal as the demon lord, that was addressed to the Head Scholar of the Conclave.

Taking a deep breath, I muttered, “I guess this is it.”

“!!!”

Just as I was about to read the letter for me, I heard someone knock on the doors of the library. Since Shevaun wasn’t with me, I’m the one who met my visitor. Much to my surprise, it was Princess Noir.

“Have you received my brother’s recommendation?” she asked, still clueless that we already knew her secret.

“Yes, milady,” I smiled at her. “Thank you for your help.”

I saw her cheeks blush, and I guess Princess Noir sensed it. She quickly averted her face. “Well,” she said while her head was awkwardly turned away, “that would satisfy your urge to come to your student. I just hope the Head Scholar would agree to our request.”

“What did you—I mean, your brother—write in the letter?”

“I don’t know. But I did ask him to request the release of our hero’s ashes to you. If the Head Scholar don’t find it desirable, he can give you tasks to satisfy their conditions.”

“So basically, I can end up getting a job inside the Conclave?”

“Depends.”

“Well, I guess it’s a win-win scenario in both cases.”

“What do you mean?”

“If the Head Scholar agrees to our request, then I get to bring home my student’s remains without a fuss. However, if he doesn’t agree and gives me a condition to teach inside the Conclave, then we can implement the plans we have about ‘reforming’ your education system here.”

“What about if he doesn’t agree to anything?”

“Then I have no choice but to steal it.”

“You’re making a death wish.”

“I’ve brushed with Death a lot of times already. He’s not a stranger to me.”

“How brave…and foolish.

“Who dares wins, I guess?”

Haa…you’re really set to it, huh? Well, it’s Shevaun’s idea, not mine,” she reiterated. “The probability of your success in this undertaking is only 2% at most.”

“2% is already high,” I countered. “See, the road to success is one that is full of close calls, apparent and actual failures, and even discouragements. Yes, it’s difficult, but we won’t get anywhere if we always look at the numbers.”

“So, you’re saying that we risk it?”

“Yep. Who knows? The 2% might work. I know one time when a student of mine ran for the Student Council Presidency with 1% chance of winning against a hugely popular rival. I told her to take the gamble, and she won in the end.”

“You say that as if you’re sure of winning, Sir.”

“I’m not sure either; but in case I lose, I’d still make a way to get to my goals anyway,” I winked at her. “It’s the result that counts, milady!

Haa…no stopping for you then,” Princess Noir smiled, and grabbed her bag.

Err…what’s that thing behind you?”

“A bag,” was her curt answer.

“Yes, I can see that. But what for?”

“You’re going to the Conclave, right?”

“And you’re coming with me?”

She nodded, “And I’ll stay by your side, of course. I wanted to ensure your safety.”

“What? Didn’t you say you already graduated from that place?”

“I did. And it wouldn’t look strange if I say that I’m staying there for my research about Lady Cassandra David,” Princess Noir winked at me. “After all, everyone knows I’m writing a book about her life.”

So, Princess Noir was not only a researcher, she’s also a writer, huh?

“Sir, I may not look like it, but I’m one of the Conclave students who graduated with honors—the top among her class of topnotchers, too. Won’t you think that it’s easier to convince the scholars there to agree to you, when one of their top alumni is supporting your back?”

“Fair point. But what about your duties?”

“Hmm?”

Shit! I slipped! “I-I mean, your duties to your brother?”

“He can take care of himself,” she quickly avoided my eyes.

“Riiight.”

The princess also added, “Shevaun’s coming, too.”

Well, Princess Noir and Shevaun could go to Chersea and stay there for some time, with no major incident happening to Darkmoor and Helfan. I guess they could repeat that again? Hmm…whatever. I mean, they’re the ones who was better aware of the situation, so I think they knew what they’re getting into.

“Hey, Sir…”

“What?”

“Are you okay with this? We’re using you like a pawn against our enemies. I know a lot of humans who didn’t like the idea.”

“Why not? Aren’t you and your brother preventing the conflict against Chersea? I guess I won’t mind being one of the tools in ensuring that tragedy won’t happen. See, I know you guys are helping me; now, it’s my turn to help you.”

“You’re not scared or angry?”

“More than angry, I’d say I’m scared. No one wants to fight the unknown, and I have no idea of who will be my enemies. But, the safety of the people I love comes first. After all, those ‘Knights’ drew the first blood, it won’t be proper if I don’t reply in kind.”

“What’s your plan, then?”

“If possible, I want to enter the Conclave and spread my own ideologies to counter the ‘Knights’, just like what Shevaun told me. But as you are afraid for my safety, I have to think of another way to fight their disinformation.”

Princess Noir said nothing after that. And I continued on preparing the things I would bring to the Conclave, more particularly, the English letters Alexa wrote for me. Just as I was about to finish my preparations…

“!!!” I felt the Usarved princess’ arms wrap around me from behind.

She whispered, “Thank you for your help, Sir…”

“It’s fine, milady,” I touched her hands to reassure her, “After all, even though I can’t remember much, I’m still that human they call ‘Kuro’…hero of Chersea and king of Cherwind. I bet I didn’t earn those titles just by idling around and waiting for my enemies to come to me.”

----------

We immediately set out for the Conclave once we got our baggage ready. Escorted by the House Usarved’s guards, our carriage headed for a place called the ‘Saint’s Tower’, which was located at the edge of the Sea of Sand, right inside a valley surrounded by two of Cherflammen’s greatest mountain ranges and hills. The journey, compared from the time when we traveled from Chersea to Darkmoor, was uneventful. In fact, to pass time, we played games en route—including chess, finger wrestling and ‘Uno’ (the last two which came from Chersea).

Or we talked about almost everything…from exchanging trivia about Cherflammen and my own world, to the stories I shared with Alexa. Princess Noir was exceptionally attentive when I was telling those experiences; I think she was writing everything that I said about their revered hero.

However, just like everything we do all the time, the moment came when we finally had enough, and boredom finally struck. Luckily, we reached our destination by the time we exhausted our ideas on how to kill our idle hours.

“Sir, welcome to the city of the Saint’s Tower!” Princess Noir said the moment we reached the city borders.

Milord, here’s a great trivia about this place,” Shevaun narrated. “The Saint’s Tower is where the Saint of Darkness, Lady Natasha Bellingsen, lives. See that tall tower over there?”

“Hm?” I peeked at the window; there were two tower-like structures on the Saint’s Tower skyline, but I guess, the chamberlain was talking about the taller, thicker one.

“The borders of this place extend up to the places where one can see the top of that tower,” she shared.

Oh, so we’ve entered the ‘Saint’s Tower’ then?”

Shevaun nodded.

“Interesting…” I finally get to see the home of the Saint of Darkness, Lady Natasha. If I remember right, she did tell me to meet her at a place called ‘Lake Antares’.

Wait, why do I know about that? Lake Antares? Where did that come from? Did a part of my memory just returned?

“Sir, are you alright?” Princess Noir tapped my shoulders when she noticed I was strangely quiet.

Ah, yes…I just remembered something. Do you know a place called ‘Lake Antares’?”

“Lake Antares?” the demon princess shook her head. “My apologies, but I can’t recall any place in Cherflammen like that.”

Hmm…if I remember right, milord, the spot where the Saint’s Tower stood was once an oasis. I just don’t know if it’s named ‘Lake Antares’.”

Oh…thanks for sharing that to me, Lady Shevaun! You sure know a lot of information about Cherflammen.”

Ah, please,” the chamberlain fixed her glasses, “just Shevaun is enough, milord.

“Ahem,” it was Princess Noir. From the tone of her voice, it’s as if she’s irritated, “Sir, won’t you ask about the other tower?”

“If I’d take a guess, that’s the Conclave, right?”

“Well, yes…don’t you know that the tower of the Conclave predates the Saint’s Tower over there?”

Ooh…since Alexa founded the Conclave, don’t tell me she’s also the one who built that other tower?”

There was a smug smile on Princess Noir’s face, “Actually, Sir—”

“—Lady Cassandra only built the 'first phase', though she laid the plans for the expansion of that place,” Shevaun interrupted the demon princess, once again fixing her glasses. “It was her successor, the Saint of Darkness, Lady Natasha Bellingsen, who completed it.”

I don’t know if it’s deliberate or not, but Shevaun’s antics was annoying her mistress.

The bored atmosphere inside our carriage quickly descended into a tense, awkward one. For some reason, every time Princess Noir would share a trivia, her chamberlain would either interrupt and share her own information, or would correct her mistress…mostly on pronunciations. Soon enough, the demon princess’ face was red in anger and embarrassment, and she was pouting.

“You’re making her even mad!” I muttered to the chamberlain.

“Don’t worry, it’s normal between us. She’s getting jealous because of my closeness to you, and I love teasing her!” Shevaun—though her expression remained indifferent—then whispered to me, “Milady is so cute when she’s mad, see?”

“True…” I couldn’t help but agree. Nevertheless, I’m still worried about seeing the demon princess like that, “But don’t you think you’re stepping out of your bounds to piss her off?”

Heh, and what can she do, milord? Cast a spell on me? Banish me? Pft! That’s a good joke!”

Err…don’t you think it might really happen?”

“She can’t do it, or rather, she won’t do it,” Shevaun’s confidence was oozing out. “After all, I’m the Head Scholar of the Conclave when milady did her thesis. For short, I’m her senior, and the one who gave her research papers a passing grade.”

“Oh…” These guys got a lot of secrets, huh? But yeah, that aside, I didn’t know that Shevaun was more than a chamberlain…she’s also a top scholar herself!

----------

The city known as the ‘Saint’s Tower’ felt so different compared to Darkmoor. I’d say, if the latter was more like a metropolis, the former could be compared to a huge temple complex. Clean roads—and I mean not only garbage, but also from pedestrians and vehicles. Well-kept shrubs lining up the cobblestone streets. Pearly-white buildings. And demon monks dressed in acolyte-style clothing wandering around in pairs.

There were several shops that we happened to pass by, and Princess Noir said that those sell souvenirs and food to the visitors.

“Though, if I may ask, where are the visitors?”

“Well, Sir, the Head Scholar of the Conclave handles the permits for the people allowed inside this place. If you entered illegally, you’ll immediately be deported to the city borders, and you can’t enter for the rest of your life.”

“Sounds harsh.”

“I don’t know how it started, but it’s been the tradition ever since. The only ones who can freely enter and exit are the scholars of the Conclave themselves, and the retinue of the Saint of the Darkness.”

“So, you mean our presence here…”

“Shevaun and I were former scholars, ‘alumni’ is the correct term for us,” Princess Noir answered. “As for you, Sir, my brother’s recommendation is enough to convince the Head Scholar to grant you an audience.”

“Really, eh? Then what happened to the ‘Head Scholar handles the permits’?

“Sir,” the demon princess stared at me, “I think you should just focus on your purpose here instead of asking for everything. Don’t you remember a saying in your own world about a man who got killed by curiosity?”

Uh, if I remember, milady, it’s a cat who was killed,” Shevaun quickly corrected her.

“Yes, whatever,” she snapped at her chamberlain. “Bottom line, Sir, please don’t ask too much questions.”

“Alright, you got it.” I shut my mouth since then.

----------

Once we reached the gates of the Conclave, it’s as if we just entered a different world. I almost thought I returned to my old school on Earth. Just like in the books I read before, the students wore uniforms: white polo-style shirts and black pants for the males, white blouses and green checkered skirts and neckties for the females.

However, in contrast to the uniforms of my former school, the skirts of the girls were noticeably shorter, and they also allowed the wearing of baggy socks, similar to what the ‘stylish’ Japanese students—the so-called ‘JKs’—wore. I also saw several of them wearing their uniforms in a wrong way, like that one girl over there with the green skin…she had her blouse tied to show her muscular belly button.

“…”

Yes, it’s the type of dress code that will give the prudes in our education system a severe heart attack.

“Lady Cassandra designed those uniforms, milord,” Shevaun pointed out. “Isn’t it fashionable?”

Oh…she must’ve thought that Japanese uniforms are stylish, than what we have in our own country…” I muttered. Well, I agree with her.

Err…Japani—what?” Princess Noir asked.

“They are people from another country in my world,” I explained. “Well, in any case, I think we should proceed to the Head Scholar’s office. We’re getting unwanted attention over our appearances.” I meant our casual clothes. I was wearing the aristocrat dress I received from Shevaun, while Princess Noir had her gown and a school bag on her back. Shevaun wore her standard green chamberlain’s uniform.

“True…” the demon princess muttered under her breath. “…we should’ve changed into the Conclave’s uniforms before appearing at the Head Scholar’s office.”

“You forgot about it, milady?

“Don’t call the kettle black, Shevaun. You’re supposed to remind me of the rules.”

“I’m not a pot, milady. And I’m as equally excited as you to return to this place, that’s why I forgot the reminders.”

“Excited? More like, I’m irritated! I don’t want to return to this hell!”

Wow…a demon who’s averted to staying in hell. How ironic…

“Err…” I guess I need to stop their banter. “I think instead of throwing the blame, we should head out, change our clothes, and return? We’re attracting unwanted attention already!”

“Shevaun! You keep on embarrassing me!”

“Can’t help it, milady, you’re so cute when you’re angry.”

“Muh!” Princess Noir’s cheeks were inflated, “I hate you!”

The two ladies continued with their little wisecracks, while the students of the Conclave slowly gathered around us. Far from being curious, I think they were drawn in by the fact that my companions freely trade jests…something that one rarely sees in a ‘serious’ and ‘reputable’ academic institution like this one.

“What’s the meaning of this travesty?”

“!!!” The scene my friends created suddenly ceased, once that deep, baritone voice filled the air. Our attention went from Shevaun and Princess Noir, to a demon with three horns, wearing a white polo and dark pants, and flanked by two smart-looking assistants (with three prominent horns as well). Looking at his appearance, I surmised that this was the Head Scholar himself.

The Usarved princess and her chamberlain immediately switched to their formal behavior, and gave a bow. Since I’m new in this place, I followed them; lest I offend this dignified fellow.

“Lord Scholar Gracchio,” Shevaun was the first to speak. “My mistress, Lady Scholar Noir Usarved, is here for a visit.”

“Is this how you conduct yourselves, former Head Scholar Ilkes and Scholar Usarved, before your juniors? Such shameful behavior!”

The rebuke was magnified by the way the Lord Scholar Gracchio spoke and the place where we were at…well, at least from my perspective. I mean, there were times my principal got angry at me and gave me an earful. Nevertheless, it was a private affair. Here, everyone was watching.

“O-Our apologies, Lord Scholar…”

“And you even forgot to wear proper clothes inside this esteemed place! You’re disrespecting the Holy Conclave!”

Err…to be honest, this was the first time that I saw Princess Noir and Shevaun like that. It’s as if they froze; no one dared to speak as the demon scholar dressed them down. It reminded me of the days I would stay at the gates of our school before the actual class time, waiting for the late students to come in and give them an earful.

“And who’s this unsightly creature?”

Is this fellow referring to me?

“Lord Scholar, he is the Prince—”

“Did I allow you to speak, Scholar Usarved? Surely, this weakling that you brought here has a mouth, is it? Or it’s just a decoration?”

I don’t like this fellow. If I have the chance, I’ll kick his sorry ass right now…though that would have to wait until I get what I came here for.

“Speak, despicable human! What’s your accursed name?”

“With all due respect, Lord Scholar,” I tried my best to keep my raging emotions in check. One more insult, and my fists would fly straight to his face. “I’m neither despicable, nor accursed. And you can call me Greg.”

“Don’t you know the rules of the Conclave, Greg?”

“I am aware, Lord Scholar,” I replied, while fishing for the Prince’s letter that I tucked inside my clothes. “However, I have a recommendation from the Prince Hurion himself, to allow me to have an audience with you.”

The Lord Scholar snatched the sealed letter from my hand and opened it. Then, the moment his eyes fell on the contents, he said, “Greg, I would forgive your stupidity this time, but on the next, you should get to know the person you’re going to meet first, before giving confidential letters like this!”

“Err…”

“Silence!” the demon scholar bellowed. Then he turned his back on us and said, “Follow me.”

----------

As it turned out, the Lord Scholar Gracchio was actually the Discipline Prefect of the Conclave, and the demon we’re looking for was an old guy, the Lord Head Scholar Emile Biorno. Before we were led to the Head Scholar’s office, we had to change our clothes, courtesy of the Discipline Prefect, as the Conclave was ‘a place of learning, not of socializing’. Honestly, I had no idea how those things were different, but since I’m new to this place, I’d rather observe for a while.

“Lord Head Scholar,” the Discipline Prefect announced our presence the moment he opened the office doors, “you have visitors from House Usarved!”

The moment we came into his office, the Lord Head Scholar immediately gave off a ‘wizard’ vibe; long, white beard, smoke pipe, grey clothes…the only thing missing was the staff, and the hat.

Well, he does still have hair, which is divided by two prominent horns at both sides of his head.

“I bid you welcome to the Conclave, former Head Scholar Shevaun Ilkes, and Scholar Noir Usarved,” the Lord Head Scholar greeted. “And to the human you brought along, welcome, as well!”

“Thank you for having us, Head Scholar Biorno,” it was Shevaun who was speaking for us once again, given her ‘seniority’ over Princess Noir.

“So, Scholar Gracchio told me that the human has something to say?”

“Y-Yes,” Princess Noir answered.

“Scholar Usarved,” the Lord Head Scholar’s voice was gentle, though it carried a sharp rebuke. “I believe my question is for the human, and not for you.”

“M-My apologies!” the demon princess retreated beside me, and gestured for me to speak.

“Lord Head Scholar,” I began, “My name is Greg Santos, though you may have heard my other name, ‘Kuro of Arles’.”

Ah, yes…the famous living hero of Chersea who fought and won against that accursed Saint of the Flame and her witless undead. So that man is you!”

“Yes, Lord Head Scholar, though because of an incident, I can’t fully remember my exploits as ‘Kuro of Arles’.”

“Interesting. You mean you’re suffering from amnesia?”

“That is the case indeed, Lord Head Scholar.”

“Would you like to try our experimental treatment procedure? Though, I’d be honest; it’s 50-50. It can restore your memories, or it can kill you.”

I was surprised by the sudden offer, but of course, I brushed it aside. “Thank you for that, Lord Head Scholar, but I’d decline. I’m here for something else, see?”

Oh…what is it, then?”

“If I may be direct, I’d like to get the urn of Lady Cassandra David.”

The pleasant expression on the Lord Head Scholar’s face remained the same, though for some reason, a heavy feeling began oozing out from him. He didn’t like my request.

“What for?”

I took a glance at Princess Noir, and she gave a nod. Before we left for the Saint’s Tower, we spoke about this possibility, and she recommended that I tell the Head Scholar the truth…

“Lord Head Scholar, Lady Cassandra David…no, Alexa, is my student, from our old world,” I presented to him the three English letters their hero wrote. “Those are addressed to me, her ‘Dearest Sir’. She wanted her ashes to return home.”

“My apologies, Greg Santos, but I cannot grant that request of yours.”

“Is there any way I can convince you?”

The Lord Head Scholar was silent for a few minutes, obviously pondering on my words, and his options. On my side, I was silently uttering a prayer that Head Scholar Biorno would give conditions. Then…

“Greg Santos, how can you prove to me that you’re Lady Cassandra David’s teacher? Anyone can claim they are this, or that, and as the guardian of the late hero’s remains, I need to be sure of the identity of the person I’m talking to.”

“I can read those letters for you, if you want.”

“Do it.”

So, I read all the three English letters Alexa wrote, making sure that I read it as fast and as clear as I could. I’m afraid that if I stutter, he’d suspect me of trickery. In the end, I managed to finish all of it—along with an interpretation in Chersean and Filipino, to an impressed audience of the Lord Head Scholar, Shevaun, and Princess Noir.

“Amazing!” the demon princess noted. “Though I have already heard your interpretation before, I can’t help but still be in awe of your ability to read those.”

“It’s true, Scholar Usarved,” the Lord Head Scholar backed her statement. “For generations, our scholars tried their best to give meaning to those letters, but they can’t determine what language it is! And this human made a short work of it!”

“He truly is Lady Cassandra’s mentor!” Shevaun added.

“However!” the Lord Head Scholar suddenly said, “That won’t be enough to convince me of your words, Greg Santos!”

“Is there anything else you require of me?”

“Yes, I still have some more questions for you to answer. And if you’re telling the truth, you won’t be afraid to, correct?”

I nodded, though honestly, I’m getting nervous. I didn’t know what to expect from this demon.

“Just a few questions to see if you really know our hero…” the old scholar revealed, “And, if I may add, I’m a reputable scholar of Lady Cassandra’s life. Even the Scholar Usarved recognizes my authority on the subject.”

My eyes immediately fell on Princess Usarved, who gave me a sheepish nod. Yep, that confirms his words…

“Greg Santos, if you truly are Lady Cassandra’s teacher from her world, what is her full name?”

“Alexa Cassandra Galarde David, Lord Head Scholar.”

“True…but where did the name ‘Galarde’ come from? It’s the first time I heard of it.”

“Well, in our world, parents hail from two different families with different last names. If they have children, they can pass their last names to them, with the mother giving her child what we call as the ‘middle name’, and the father the ‘last name’. Galarde is Lady Cassandra’s middle name, and David is her last.”

“Ooh…” Princess Noir was quick to note that.

“O-Okay then, next! What is Lady Cassandra’s greatest dream?”

“She wants a family that would love her.”

Err…th-that’s…correct.”

“Next question please, Lord Head Scholar!”

“R-Right! So, uhm, what’s Lady Cassandra’s favorite subject?”

Well, honestly, Alexa never excelled in any of the eight subjects during her stint in my class. If anything, she passed her subjects, but that was because of her efforts, and not really with her mind. Nevertheless, I remembered that time when I talked to her during lunch break…

“Filipino. She loves that language subject.” It’s the one that I taught before.

Damn…you really are telling the truth!”

“Thank you for believing me, Lord Head Scholar,” I sighed with relief, while taking a bow to show my gratitude.

However, the Lord Head Scholar won’t accept his defeat, “Not yet! I still have one more question!”

Heh, bring it on then, old man—I mean, demon…man! “Please, I’m willing to answer all your concerns about Lady Cassandra.”

Ha! If you’re her teacher, then tell me: what color of panties does Lady Cassandra wants to wear—buoh!

At that point, I couldn’t stop myself. I kicked the wooden desk he’s using and snapped at him, “How the fuck do I get to know that? I’m her teacher, not her boyfriend!”