Chapter 1: Rafina’s Concern

“Lady Rafina, here are the documents describing the security protocols. Would you mind going over them with the student council?”

“Not at all. As always, thank you, Santeri.”

Santeri Bandler respectfully lowered his head. A man nearing old age, he was a veteran guard-priest who oversaw Saint-Noel Island’s security. Since beginning his employment there at the age of twenty-five, he’d worked for thirty-five consecutive years, never stepping off the island even once. He exuded the air of a true artisan who took pride in his work, and for good reason, for it was the robust system of policing and security protocols he’d developed that had established the island’s reputation for being the safest region in the continent. The Duke of Belluga had on multiple occasions rewarded him with medals for his work.

Rafina quickly read through the documents he provided...and frowned ever so slightly.

It’s almost the exact same procedures as last year...

“May I ask if any part of the protocols seem inadequate?” Santeri politely inquired, having seen her reaction. “It is my belief that these protocols are optimal for ensuring your safety and preventing any incidents from marring the esteemed reputation of Belluga.”

He was right. The security measures laid out in the documents were impeccable. The island had always conducted strict inspections of those wishing to enter. It was almost impossible for anyone nefarious to gain access. Trying to bring in dangerous materials such as poisons or weapons was equally futile. One could of course try to swim across, but that would likely entail a taste of the aquatic snares encircling the island. Someone with skills and wits on par with Tearmoon’s strongest knight, the renowned Empire’s Finest, could perhaps sneak in, but that was far too tall an order for the average assassin. Saint-Noel was, for all intents and purposes, an insular haven. In Rafina’s eyes, the island was a paradise isolated from the outside world.

The food to be enjoyed by students during the Holy Eve Festival was tightly controlled as well. Ingredients were stored deep within the academy where access was restricted, and they would be prepared for the table under the strict supervision of the chef-priest. Food tasters would also be present, ready to test each dish before it was served.

With the island’s ordinarily strict security tightened even further on the day of the Holy Eve Festival, there was no way any incidents could occur. So believed Rafina. Or rather, so had she believed back when she’d been overwhelmed by the responsibilities of the student council president. But now, Mia was president. Free of the position’s duties, Rafina had time to think. And because she thought, something occurred to her.

Even if our security protocols are perfect...isn’t it risky to never change them?

Suppose the island’s security was indeed flawless and its implementation foiled the attempts of all infiltrators. Would all those infiltrators be forever deterred? No, many would try again. And if they did, would they not plan around the island’s existing defenses? Elaborate patrol routes... Carefully positioned guards... These were doubtlessly effective against uninformed foes. But what if the transgressors they caught had others with them? Their capture might give their associates information about those carefully positioned guards and their elaborate patrol routes, which they could then take into account when planning their next foray.

Our security might be breached through a blind spot. It’s...not impossible.

It was a tenuous concern revolving around a very nebulous threat. But for all its vagueness, it filled her with a sense of urgency. Somehow, she knew. Something bad was going to happen. Driven by this premonition, she questioned the guard-priest.

“Santeri, are you certain that these security measures will be sufficient?”

Nothing was more dangerous than ossified thinking. Habitual faith in a system hindered critical thinking, blinding people to reasonable doubt of the system’s efficacy. When it came to safety, overconfidence came before the fall. She was just about to suggest a more careful look at the protocols when Santeri replied.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” His tone bore the stiffness of dented pride. “As you are fully aware, Lady Rafina, we have always used these protocols, and they have never failed us before.”

“That’s true...but are you sure there are absolutely no oversights? No blind spots we can fix?”

“There are none. We priests tasked with this island’s security stake our honor and lives on our work,” he declared before indignantly adding, “Should your ladyship find my protocols to be inadequate, you are free to dismiss me from my post.”

Hmm... Now this is a bit of a pickle.

The situation was quickly proving to be a headache. Redesigning the security protocols without Santeri would be exceedingly difficult. Decades of experience in safeguarding the island had given him an indispensable wealth of knowledge. It was, of course, also contributing to his mental inflexibility, but the utility of that expertise was indisputable and she couldn’t afford to lose it.

The problem is that there are none. Nothing concrete, at least. His security protocols are very good. Even if I dismiss him and redesign them myself, there’s no guarantee they’ll be any better. They could in fact be a lot worse...

Fixing something only to break it more would be an exercise in futility. However, she couldn’t leave things the way they were. She wasn’t sure why, but she was sure.

If I order him to make me a new security plan, he probably will, but...

There was a problem with that too, and it was one of initiative. The difference in quality between work done willingly with passion and work done reluctantly under orders was incomparable.

If anything, that would just create an opportunity for the Serpents. They’re experts at exploiting those kinds of psychological vulnerabilities.

The Chaos Serpents could slither into people’s hearts in the most cunning ways. The slightest rift between Santeri and her would be an invitation for them to strike. Therefore, what she needed was for him to share her concern. Only by having him see the same danger she did could she ensure his experience was put to full use.

Oh, this is so hard. I can’t even pin down what exactly it is I’m worried about, never mind explain it to him...

Had there been an obvious flaw in his security protocols, she could just point it out and have him fix it. Unfortunately, the nature of her concern wasn’t quite so concrete. It was more about a mental readiness to look for flaws rather than any specific flaw itself. In his current frame of mind, Santeri was probably incapable of identifying any flaws in the system he’d developed. Even if he did, she doubted he’d admit it. Chances were, she’d have no choice but to reuse the same protocols this year.

But there’s no way the Serpents won’t take advantage of an opportunity like that.

After Santeri left the room, Rafina’s expression remained troubled as she kept mulling over the problem. With a frustrated sigh, she rubbed at the bridge of her nose. When she opened her eyes again, she noticed out of the corner of her eye a red strip of cloth. It was the symbol worn by Mia supporters during the student council election.

“Oh, I’m no good, am I?” she whispered before chuckling softly to herself. “I’m doing it again.”

Just then, Monica walked into the room.

“Hm? Doing what again, Miss Rafina?”

Rafina grimaced.

“Trying to shoulder all the responsibilities myself. This is an issue that should be discussed by the student council. I need to get better at asking for advice.”

She stood up and tilted her neck from side to side, then headed off to the student council office.