The Hero Became a Succubus, and the Only Way to Level is to… What?!
Chapter 415 – High Stakes

Bellowing church bells reverberated through the halls of Aidenhall, signalling the noon of day. Patrice Starborne sighed with relief. It meant the end of her lesson as well. The new archbishop tidied up her notes, looked up at the class she had been lecturing for two hours now, and studied their bored and exhausted demeanors. Some of them had fallen asleep. Others, who were glad for the end of lecture, hurried to their field combat lessons.

Some of the classmates were about to wake their slumbering students until Patrice picked up her staff.

"Penance, Penance, Penance, Penance!" Patrice fired four spells in quick success, shackling the slackers to their desks with golden restraints.

That shocked them awake in an instant, and their faces turned to panic.

"I expect a five-page report on today's lecture about the three stages of religious fanaticism due next session. The four who I've oh-so unfortunately bound to the desk will stay after class to write an extra five more pages. Dismissed!" Patrice exclaimed.

"See you tomorrow, Archbishop!"

"Bye-bye, Professor Starborne~"

Patrice saw each and every student off at the door with a hardened face. But beneath that cold and craggy exterior, her chest welled pride. The future was looking bright already. As of late, students have been taking more interest in learning. Patriotism and unity had grown stronger than ever, thanks in large part to two violent Ortesian incidents.

What a shame that not everyone took part in Radevic's second wind…

"Aargghh! There's gotta be something you can do, Revah! Mikki, too. Help break me free. Quick! While Prof ain't looking," Pan implored to her sisters.

"Don't you dare, Revah. I'll have you trapped alongside Pan. The restraints will disappear in an hour. Spend this time reflecting rather than napping," Patrice chided.

"Sorry, Pan. Peace." Revah waved goodbye.

"I'll brew you some stamina draughts later!" Mikki promised.

"Don't leave me here! Noooooo—"

Patrice slammed the door on the ones in detention after Revah and Mikki left. Finally. Now that classes were over, she could finally get to the best part of the day. She cradled three thick manuscripts in her arms. A Theory on Theocracy, False Prophets: Ruedegard Ducant, and How Zealotry Erodes Republics and Empowers Tyranny— all written by none other than the person holding them.

Of course, nothing stimulated Patrice more than her own writings. Such intelligence, elegance, and passion mixed into a single vial like the perfect potion. High elves of Ortesian descent were born with a predisposition towards affluent pompousness, and Patrice was a little different. The blood of high elves coursed with arrogance and pride, and that was no different for her. But while Ortesians desired wealth and status, she desired knowledge and history. The kind worth writing about, worth teaching, and worth remembering.

At 36 years old, Patrice somehow didn't look a day older than 20. She had a rather tight face. Small green eyes and a button of a nose rested atop her seemingly ever-pursed lips. Her pointed ears were a tad shorter than those of her kind, but her skin was just as porcelain. Standing at a mere five feet and three inches, every single one of her peers dwarfed her. Yet she towered over all of them in power except for two. Now to—

"Archbishop! Archbishop!" A young human cleric boy rushed down the hall to catch up. "I'm so glad I found you. Grand Eye Analise wanted me to remind you that there are still 30 crownings to complete before the end of the day. The aspirants are gathered and waiting for you in the Basilica of Saint Rue. Unless… Are you busy?"

"Ugh… No, I am not. Lead the way." Patrice composed herself and followed him.

For the next three hours, Patrice performed the crowning ritual on initiates, knights, and servants alike. She noticed a frumpy hobgoblin girl among the group. Mikki. In the end, only nineteen were successfully crowned. The rest sulked over not being blessed with by the gods or Supreme One. Such was life.

Mikki was the last to undergo the crowning ritual. The young spawn of the Demon Queen entered the circle of clerics to stand in front of Patrice.

"Here again, Mikki?" Patrice nodded in acknowledgement.

"Hello, Professor Starborne! I haven't given up yet." Mikki pumped her fists.

Sadly, the gods cared little for determination. When Patrice called down the column of light beseeching their blessing, no one answered. The incandescence subsided with Mikki not any different than before. But the girl wasn't too glum. She shrugged, as if the bakery merely ran out of stock for the day. If Patrice remembered right, this was Mikki's tenth attempt at being crowned.

Well, not that it mattered. Mikki was plenty gifted. She was well-read, smart, and often made use of the alchemical laboratories to refine her alchemy. Patrice smiled fondly recalling every single time Mikki shot a hand up to answer questions correctly.

But work was done. Finally, Patrice could get back to going over her manuscripts and—

"Professor, wait!" someone called out.

"What is it now?" Patrice whirled around and groaned, only to realize her mistake facing Mikki. "Oh, Please forgive me. My frustrated outburst just now wasn't intended for you. What is it? If this is about the crowning, worry not. I'm sure the gods will find it in their hearts to crown you one day. They just do not yet know you're worthy."

"Hehe. Thank you, Professor. Hearing it from you means a lot. But I'm not that hung up about not being crowned. I was hoping to ask you about the essay report that's due tomorrow. I understand if you're busy though." Mikki twiddled her thumbs sheepishly.

"I will always make time for my students! It's noisy on the basilica floor though. Let's speak in my office," she insisted.

The Archbishop's Quarters had finally gotten the much-needed facelift it deserved. All the silly gaudy and lavish furniture, paintings, and the pointless vanity desk, gone. When Gretchen Redbaron was Archbishop, this place became her personal oasis. A picture of Ortesian noble living arrangements.

Grand Eye Analise didn't have the heart or time to remove anything following Gretchen's removal. Patrice did. She rid herself of everything, starting from the ground up. Now, this room was filled with bookshelves stuffed full of texts pulled from the Illuminant Repository, ancient religious artifacts, and a nice coffee set from Savir.

A breeze blew in. It was getting cooler with fall approaching. Mikki shuddered a little, so Patrice rose to close the open windows. Open? Did she open them before leaving for classes today? She pulled the glass panels closed and returned to her guest.

"Sit, and ask your questions." Patrice gestured to a crescent couch around a knee-high table.

"I'm thinking about basing the essay topic of the three stages of religious fanaticism on how it can do good. I… I know you're critical on subjects of extremism, but I think that good can come from tempered fanaticism," Mikki explained, piquing the archbishop's thrill for debate.

"The Cult of Lust and Depravity prove otherwise, as well as the Empire of Ortesia's obsession of being chosen by the Supreme One. To the point of meddling with devils. Are these not proof that zealotry in any form and stage is malevolent?" she challenged in return.

The girl pinched the sleeve of her robe. Quivering lips were evidence of a reluctant urge to speak up.

"Mikki, if you cannot defend your position, what hope do you have of writing a compelling argument in an essay? I wish to learn. You will be the teacher, and I the student," Patrice urged her gently.

"The Eminence of Sin and my Mom! The Sisters of Sin demonstrate every hallmark of fanaticism. They're so polarizing even amongst themselves that it splintered into two groups: Sisters in Black led by First Sister Lilith, and Sisters in White led by Zadris. Yet their founders are benign. Mom, Aunt Arenade, and Aunt Edina tempered fanaticism in the devoted and built schools, orphanages, a prospering kingdom, and more. They did it all faster than any other newborn country in history because of it!"

Patrice shedded a tear of happiness. She wiped it away and smiled. Her daily toil as an educator certainly wasn't a waste.

"Very good, Mikki. You may write on the subject as you see fit. I'm eager to read your report," Patrice said.

"Thank you!" Mikki beamed.

"If only your sister Pan can show the same enthusiasm in class…" she murmured.

"Aww, Pan's doing her best. I'll help her with the report, I promise!" the girl exclaimed.

Something across the room shifted. When Patrice looked up, there was no one there except for books. But she definitely sensed a third person in the room. Could it be Revah? No. Too sloppy.

"While you're here, Mikki, why don't you brainstorm a few topics for Pan to write about? Use these." Patrice pushed an inkwell and paper across the table.

"Oh, sure!" Mikki leaned forward just as a shiv flew over her head.

Patrice flicked a wrist, causing the shiv to veer off and hit the wall behind.

Thwack!

"What was that?" Mikki lifted her gaze.

"Must be rats. Actually, I'd like you to write the opening first page to your topic. I need to know you're serious about it. Keep your head down and stay focused," Patrice instructed.

"Eh? Y-Yes, Professor!" She did as asked and grabbed another piece of paper to write.

Patrice got up and grabbed her staff, subtly casting a barrier around Mikki. The unknown assassin was still in the room, somewhere by the small maze of bookshelves. She could feel it. Glancing down, an imprint of a pair of boots pressed down on the soft rug.

"Pardon me. I think I see a book out of place." Patrice left Mikki's side and drew closer to the bookshelves.

The assassin thrusted a blade forward. Anticipating this, Patrice pulled a book out to block it. She jabbed her staff into their gut and casted Holy Shock. Whoever they were collapsed to the ground. 

"Uhm, Professor? Are you okay over there?" Mikki asked.

"I'm fine! A couple of books fell from the shelves is all. You need not concern yourself with anything other than writing that first page," Patrice said, then grimaced at the knife sticking out of a tome. "The High Elven: Before Ortesia, by Theodora Chance. Ah, well. Not much of a loss."

Still invisible, the figure crawled for the window to escape. Their equipment scraping against the floor made that plainly obvious. Patrice quietly casted Penance, binding them with holy restraints.

Then the front door burst open. Patrice thought more assassins had breached Aidenhall until Grand Eye Analise and two Saint Priests, Vestrid and Delayn, stormed in.

"Patrice! Are you—" Analise looked Patrice in the eyes, noted a spooked Mikki at the table, and the assassin wriggling on the ground by the window.

"W-What's going on?!" Mikki panicked.

"It seems I'll have to wait until tomorrow to read your report. Make sure Pan stays on top of it, too, alright?" Patrice reminded her, and dispelled the barrier before Mikki noticed.

"Vestrid, kindly escort Mikki to where she needs to go," the Grand Eye ordered.

"As you wish. Come on, kiddo. Tell me how your drakeling half-sister is doing." Vestrid helped Mikki pick up her book bag on the way out.

Meanwhile, Grand Eye Analise and Delayn joined Patrice in looming over a high elf assassin, whose invisibility finally wore off.

"Your Grace's suspicions are spot on as always. I can't believe they're still so brazen." Delayn pressed a foot over the man's chest.

"An attempt was made on mine and King Turren's life, too. He's also safe. What timing that Kanae's daughter was in here. Things could have gone seriously bad if anything had happened to her," Analise warned.

"As if I could let anything happen to my favorite student. Her safety was my top priority." Patrice puffed out her chest.

Analise kneeled down to inspect the man and said, "He's been charmed. Succubus magic. Same as the other two assassins. Delayn, personally deliver this man to the dungeons and see to it that the warden ensures extra guards at his cell. We will question them when their charm wears off."

"What? But you've already sent Vestrid away. Security protocols state that at least two Saint Priests must be guarding you at all times. Especially after an assassination attempt… are you sure?" she asked.

When Analise eyed Delayn, the Saint Priest acquiesced, taking their prisoner with her. Left alone in the Archbishop's Quarters, the two colleagues heaved a simultaneous sigh.

"I should have turned you down when you came to me that fateful night. Archbishop! I'm pestered to perform almost 50 crownings a day. Today, an assassin tried to kill me! I barely have enough time to work on my manuscripts and research papers!" Patrice complained.

Analise laughed and sat down where Mikki was earlier. "But you love the unfettered access to our most closely-guarded archives! I needed you, Patty. I still do. You proved exactly why I made the right choice a few moments ago. That eccentric brain of yours is exactly what Radevic desperately needs. Who else could have come up with sending Kanae Toyomi to Savir?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"The Knight of Amethyst performed a good enough service to put past knights to shame. She deserved a long rest. To be close to her family here. Yet you convinced her to go to Savir to search for Sivvy. What did you tell her?" the Grand Eye was asking now, not Analise.

"I told her a lie. That one of the sultans is on the path to Deification," she confessed.

"Why? For what purpose?" her old colleague continued to press her.

Patrice lifted the stabbed textbook, The High Elven: Before Ortesia. Analise arched a brow and cocked her head.

"Ever since Ortesia's invasion of the Commonwealth, I've been wondering why the empire so desperately sought to resurrect Ruedegard Ducante. Why? Why? Why? There's nothing worse than not having an answer. High elves have historically tried to raise their own living deity, yet none have ever ascended. That was my ah-ha moment. So, I thought of recent history. Tell me, Ana. It was an open secret that Gretchen Redbaron was on the path of Deification. Why did they not allow you to defeat her to hasten the process? Or vice versa? They simply asked you to leave her be. If they didn't want her to ascend, then were they waiting for someone else to come in and defeat her?"

"The Empire of Ortesia has a person other than Saint Rue in mind to ascend!" Analise gasped. "Who?"

"I'm hoping Amethyst may tell us that upon her return. After all, I sent her there, away from the safety of Aidenhall to a remote desert country, in order to lure them out. Imagine if you had sent Ivory. What would we have gained?" she explained.

"Patrice. You gambled on the life of one of our Knights of Colors… What if she fell to the other candidate of Deification?"

The Archbishop flashed a grin and said, "What was that about needing my eccentric brain? The stakes are higher than ever now, and we've been playing on a lack of information for years. Whichever side the scales tip, we will at least know. And there is no greater power than knowledge."