I Was Reincarnated as the Prince in a Villainess Story, so I’ll Use My Cheat Knowledge to Create a Noble Lady Harem and Make Them All Happy - 36

Chapter 36: Communication Magic and the Saint’s Temptation※

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The morning castle still held a chill of dampness upon its stone walls. The light filtering into the office of the west tower remained pale, illuminating only the stack of papers on the desk with a faint glow. Two soft knocks came at the door—followed by the entrance of a scribe from the Temple Archives and a young sorcerer from the Academy, each carrying a sealed packet bearing wax insignia.

“Before His Majesty grants his approval, a copy is to be presented to His Highness the Crown Prince. This is a joint report from the Temple Archives and the Academy concerning the investigation of Laurel’s Journal.”

“Well done. …Leave it there.”

The footsteps of the two receded as they exited the room. Valis broke the wax seal and turned over the first page. Smooth quill strokes, orderly headings, and precise diagrams of spirit-arts arrays—within the first two pages, the core findings were already made clear.

『The seal embedded in the journal was a sensory-type Spirit Art. When the bearer’s spiritual energy waveform exceeded the threshold, the seal would be released through a localized manifestation of the Fire Spirit—Salamander—and the contents of the page would be rewritten. The ignition and rearrangement occurred the moment Feril-sama touched it, and her waveform was noted to closely resemble that of the Elemental Spirit Amon’s core—or so the analysis team hypothesized.』

Valis drew a quiet breath against his lips. As he suspected, that fire had not been accidental. The “key” that met the conditions had touched it—triggering the flame and revealing the concealed text beneath. The seal was most likely Sylpharia’s doing, designed so that only when Amon’s lineage was inherited by her descendants could it be read.

Valis returned to the first page, tracing the array’s structure once more.

『 The spirit-reactive layers received faint resonances from the four primaries—fire, water, earth, and wind. When a specific combination—say, “fire × wind”—exceeded its threshold, the sealing sigil ignited. That ignition did not destroy; it served as a signal, using its heat as fuel to reorder the fibers of the page—reversing the micro-script woven into the parchment of the ancient tree. The surface burned, and the underside emerged. As a mechanism, it made perfect sense.』

But… Could it truly endure for a hundred years? Holding the paper’s edge with his fingertips, Valis sank deeper into thought. In Divine Arts, the caster’s mana was the source of power. Its duration varied widely—training and faith could extend it, but even the most enduring rarely lasted beyond hours. The magic Holy Kingdom Verdia had cast during the Holy War was said to sustain itself until the end of battle, but that magic was done at an exceptional scale.

Archive Arts—amplified mana through words and diagrams to manifest phenomena, allowing anyone to learn it as a pure academic discipline. Artifacts and grimoires born from it often endured for long years. Yet even so, to have something still function and respond to a specific stimulus a century later was nearly unthinkable.

By contrast—Spirit Arts. They borrowed mana not from oneself, but from the surrounding spirits. That was why they could last. Lighting lamps, carrying the wind, warming the water—such spells persisted precisely because their logic endured.

His thoughts naturally turned in that direction.

A quiet foresight born from an oath made a hundred years ago. But when he lowered his gaze to the next paragraph, Valis straightened unconsciously. The report stated this:

『The seal embedded in the journal not only disguised its contents, but upon release, directed the manifestation of the Fire Spirit with intentional orientation—suggesting it functioned as a form of communication magic.』

The fire had not merely burned. It had likely sent a signal to something—or someone. Valis looked away from the page, thinking. Most likely, it was meant to transmit a message to Silva Haruna. If so, it could be assumed that the inheritance of Feril had already become known on that side. If this mechanism, sustained over a century, had activated in response to the descendant’s spirit, then at that same moment, the “Forest City” must have received the signal as well.

The time had come. He would have to set forth—to that Forest City.

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Having finished the report, Valis was jotting a brief summary in the margin with his pen when a light knock sounded on the office door.

“Can I come in?”

A bright, familiar voice echoed. When the door opened, there stood Milia. She wasn’t in her usual habit. She wore a deep crimson combat outfit—perhaps just finished with her training as a Saint. The tightly fitted fabric clung to her skin, faintly damp with sweat.

It wasn’t particularly revealing, but it did nothing to conceal the curves of her body—a thoroughly practical design for battle. Her upper arms, thighs, and sharply defined waistline were all visible, her trained physique gleaming softly with perspiration.

“Hey, Valis-kun! Things are going smoothly on my end, but it looks like yours took a bit longer than expected, huh?”

Valis closed the report and nodded toward her.

“No, the update just arrived. …It seems there’s a high possibility that Feril’s inheritance has already been conveyed to the Silva Haruna side.”

“I see. So that means it’s about time you head over there, right?”

“Yeah. We’ll begin negotiations. It won’t be long now.”

Milia stepped further into the room, resting her hand casually on the desk as she leaned closer to him.

“Honestly, I’d love to go with you. But with that place being what it is, things would get complicated if a Saint candidate showed up.”

“True enough. …Still, without you, I can’t help feeling uneasy.”

“Oh? Are you saying you’ll miss me? How cute, Your Highness.”

Teasing him, Milia bent forward slightly, leaning toward him. A faint sheen of sweat traced her neck and collarbone, and as the crimson fabric stretched, the soft curve of her chest became subtly pronounced. That scent—Milia’s sweet, distinctive sweat—made Valis’s heartbeat jump once.

“Do you always train dressed like that? …Isn’t it a bit too provocative?”

The words slipped from his mouth before he could stop them. Milia blinked in surprise for an instant, then her lips curved into a mischievous smile.

“Oh my… Valis-kun, did you just react to a side of Milia-chan you haven’t seen before?”

She said that and pressed his arm close to her chest. The springy softness was conveyed through the thin fabric.

“This has slits on the sides so you can move your legs easily. It’s convenient but… It’s also kind of sexy, right?”

As she said that, she lifted one leg high. Her thigh was exposed, and beyond the slit in the fighting garment, the edge of her underwear peeked out.

“See? Right?”

While Valis was speechless and staring, Milia stretched out her finger and lifted the edge of her underwear herself. Deep inside the slowly damp fabric, the faintly reddened, lewd slit was exposed without any sense of shame. Then, licking her lower lip with her tongue—

“…It’s a little sweaty and damp, but do you want to use it?”

Her leg remained raised, and her fingers still held the underwear lifted. Without waiting for Valis’s reply, she continued.

“Hehe… Looking at a saint who seriously did her job with such naughty eyes, you’re a bad prince.”

Silence. The next moment, Valis stood up. Without a word, he walked over to her.

“…Huh? W-wait, no way… Eh? Did you take me seriously…?”

Milia’s tone showed a trace of panic for a moment. But even with her cheeks flushed red, her smile did not fade.

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