Chapter 209
Chapter 209
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 209
Chapter Title: Chapter 11. The Mage of Mages (29)
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Splash. Splash.
Whoosh—
The crisp morning air mingled with the sound of river water lapping against the hull.
And on top of that, a letter from the distant real world.
“Feels like I’m a navy guy shipped out overseas.”
It had been two days since he’d coaxed Beynix into hiding with the nearby thieves’ guild, returned the reclaimed holy blood to the temple, and become the priests’ idol.
Creak—
“Ottoman? You’re up early.”
“For folks like us, is there anything better than the morning river breeze? Anyway, you barely slept a wink running around, so why are you up so early?”
“Well, I’ve got some mess I caused, so I’ve gotta make up for it with my body.”
“Tsk tsk tsk. I keep telling you not to worry too much. That’s what comrades are for, right?”
Over the past two days—no, since the contract with Beynix had been at night, it was really just a bit over 24 hours of nonstop action.
First, back at the temple, amid priests practically speaking in tongues, he’d heard the news that the archbishop had reached out.
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“Hey, it’s been a while, Archbishop Norman?”
[I’ll get straight to the point. Did you meet Him?]
“Huh?”
[I’ve heard everything about what you did and the miracle at the imperial border castle! Really.... Did Lo Haram descend upon you? Did you hear His voice?]
“No.”
[That....! Ahem. Right, you’re new to the priesthood. The ‘voice’ I mean isn’t just literal—it includes revelations, inevitabilities, omens, and such. Maybe you felt drawn to some mysteriously glowing place, or had this strange urge that you had to be there....]
“No, really? I just met an elf guide in the mountains and came down, got tangled up in it somehow.”
[Eek! Then what was that? One of the priests reported seeing a soul mage force your near-corrupted soul to meet some entity! No matter how it happened, the church means you no harm, so please don’t hide it—just answer! Was it... Him you met there?]
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He could feel the urgency from the dignified, portly archbishop even through the divine communication—the man was desperate.
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“Uh.... I did meet something there.”
[You did!]
“But it wasn’t Lo Haram.... It was an old friend I hadn’t seen in ages. We traded some insults, wished each other well on the hard times. Then I came out.”
[To think.... I thought this time His will had finally reached the world.]
“Uh.... Should I apologize?”
[No, no. You’ve done more than I expected. It’s just.... Things turned out so coincidentally. The hero who set off on a pilgrimage in these chaotic times, the mutants pushing their influence all the way to the empire while ignoring such a clear battlefield, and you waiting right there to stop them.... Isn’t it all too perfect? Honestly, I never imagined sacrificing lives to provoke the undead in the mountains. Some of those undead have been there since the Dark Ages—even the border lord and his knights couldn’t hold them off alone. Too lucky to call it luck.... It’s fate.]
“If it really was, He’d have given me some holy power. A halo or something.”
[Maybe tiny creatures like us can’t fully grasp His will. The sun doesn’t announce, ‘I shall illuminate the world on this month, day, at this hour,’ before rising, does it?]
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He’d done all the suffering, but hearing it was all Lo Haram’s will felt off—until the archbishop’s next words melted away the complaint.
Radicals in the church had opposed support, claiming his group’s origins were too lowly for the ‘hero’ title. But this ‘miracle of blood’ had silenced them.
“The church’s standing in the empire isn’t as high as in the eastern three kingdoms.... But official support from most temples is plenty useful.”
They’d formally recognized his ‘Hero Professor’ status, not just outwardly but internally.
This was huge. He’d been a mercenary hero before; now he was a true church hero with real privileges.
Even here at the border castle temple, if he’d yelled, “Bring out all the holy warriors and priests! We’re storming the border lord!” the reaction would’ve been night and day.
Yesterday’s him? “Oh, Hero, sir. I admire your zeal, but as bishop maintaining the temple, I must consider worldly duties. Who keeps the faith if the temple falls?”—polite deflection.
But now, certified by Archbishop Norman and the other two scattered across the lands despite his lowly birth? His word was a ‘holy war.’
One command, and that kind priest gouges out a civilian’s eye with a bronze candlestick; that gentle nun swings a war chariot wheel.
Naturally, the priests’ behavior shifted.
In this mess, heading into winter from fall, they scattered flowers wherever he walked.
A simple “Good work” passing by, and they burst into tears, wrapped in holy light.
He had zero holy power, yet his glance alone made priests go “holy”—it gave him stomach cramps, but his status in the church was now untouchable, save the archbishop.
Then, emerging as a true saint, he met the lord here—the Swordmaster border lord.
Simple enough: amid his son’s funeral, the lord apologized for skimping on saintly honors and filled their boat with food and supplies as thanks.
‘He beat around the bush, but basically, “I’m glad you’re uncomfortable—get out.”’
Misunderstanding cleared, but half-monster him could snap anytime—better gone quick, wrapped in “supplies.”
So, leaving the border lord’s domain with the group, overnight on Lucilla’s rented boat—today’s morning.
Splash—!
Recalling yesterday as Ottoman dove into the river.
“Aaah. Feels like my mother’s embrace. Professor, if you’ve got worries, why not jump in?”
“Uh.... In a bit. Even so, diving into an early winter river’s a no.”
“Heh heh heh. As expected of an undertrained mage.”
Tempting as hell, but couldn’t check messages swimming.
Watching the old man lap the boat like an Olympian, he opened the incoming message.
Ding-!
Ah, that system sound. Long time no hear. In-game UI replaced by NPC senses—no alerts for ages. Nostalgic.
[You have 63 messages from allowed players.]
“63? Well.... Yeah, after that spectacle, bound to message.”
The holey system window listed outer world messages. Kinda scary.
‘Better rip the bandage off?’
Professor swallowed, hovering over biggest stack: [Speed Wagon].
[Speed Wagon: Never thought I’d be disappointed in you.]
Oof. Starts strong.
[Honestly.... I know we can’t fully grasp your reality-divorced situation. Waking up in a monster’s body, basically dead, your brain overwritten with game data.... Confusing, despairing, sure. But acting like dying’s fine? Unforgivable. I waited 4 months on that brief 38 District spark. Days ago, reconnect pod reunion—short, but I braced for years more. Barely 20 minutes, but one of my life’s treasures. You meet me, share feelings, then call that self fake? I’d look ridiculous.]
Uh.... Expected Dana chewing him out. Not curses—cold guilt trip. Terrifying. Felt like world’s worst scum deserving suicide.
[Please value yourself. Met Vex and Ian recently—Vex seems.... really dangerous. If you mess up again, it’s not just you. Wastelanders know: hopeless don’t survive. You’re unbreakable hope in countless hearts. Including mine.]
Sniff! Cough!
Splash!
“Hm? Cold? High priest robes have temp maintenance enchantments standard.”
“Y-yeah. Chilly. Cough!”
Aaaah. Heart melting. 38 District Dana trip—life’s best choice. Healing....
Her messages continued: rare river fish, aquatic plants, fall delicacy recipes, bandit spots—pre-bedtime river descent info.
Unlike before, packed with food spots, scenic views—worried he’d spiral depressive again. Such delicate care melts the heart.
Smiling through, last line caught his eye.
[Oh, and.... I started GG too.]
“....Huh?”
Why? He’d nearly lost his mind here multiple times. Game helped sure, but first Hyde infinite dismemberment show? Normal folk’d self-harm IRL. Delicate her in this mad game?
[Realized: data processing—better in GG’s 5x slower time than real world. Mental breaks too. Don’t worry. Levit sis teaching well. No clear intent—used sealing for safest start, quiet safe work spot. Not all-random reality start like someone, so no worries.]
[Also.... Broadcast started casually for info gathering, but connecting with so many’s fun. Thought to get serious.... GG fits. Knowledge-wise, I match you.... Might do well.]
[Enough fluff. Know you can’t sit still, but play like a patient resting easy. Can’t fix world alone. Till we meet again, stay well. - Dana -]
“Whoa.....”
Community check: [Dana the Frail Beauty’s~♥ GG Guide-Making Stream] nearing rank 17. Public info gathering suited her—or Levit roped her good.
Next.
[Levit Princess: Heyyy~? First direct chat? Kinda. Nurse who guided you post-Zeus scalp, fleeing researchers? Me maybe? Anyway! Guarding your lover Dana-chan teehee. Whew, snagged this lucky charm—thought goody-two-shoes, but reconsidered! Business: Dana Elisha Hyacinth launching as Levit Entertainment streamer. Figured tell ya—lest your monstrous Dome hero bf sees me as threat and kills~?]
Beep-!
Useless. Dana’s no kid—doesn’t need permission. No eternal side guarantee. Could die anytime.
Next—
[Jokasss: Dude, you were mega cringe today. HD recorded. Manic? Dosage vid.]
“Eek! This guy!”
Inner world Hyde/38 District memories? Brain-only, fine. Broadcast: existence rant, rampage, Aldrich’s soul spell KO.
Looked like tantrum, beatdown, snap back. Embarrassing.
Next.
[Heung An Mandu: Jealous. Make me game-brain to escape labor yoke! Dome’s insane! Chairman going Stalin! Mandatory labor! Wartime admin sans choice! Wanna game-brain too! Play official streams, stack sealing mountains like you! Wasteland gamers envy your spot—you ragequit suicide! Belly full, punk! Quiteeeeek!]
Grit!
....Next.
[Deer Drug Please: Retard]
Next, next, next!
Rest: greetings, curses, miscellany. Useless? Nah. Rage-reading evoked old Corduro screen chatroom days.
“....Yeah. Being alive ain’t much.”
Curvy path, but cathartic vent solved it. Post-half-NPC arrival, that nagging chest chill gone. Major homework done—super relieved.
Splash—
Body refreshed, morning air crisp. Dim fall dawn, late-rising sun mood-boosting.
Splash-!
Suddenly, crimson dawn river rippled huge concentric circles.
Fishing spot signal.
Professor shed priest robes, dove in.
Sploooosh!
Underwear-only into early winter ice water. Beyond cold—brain-zinging chill froze worries away, deep happiness bubbling.
Aaaah. Even as player, addictive. As water mage NPC? Next level. If mental stat, 0 to 100 instant!
“Wh-wh-whoaaa.... G-gonna.... die....”
“Hohoho. Yes, water mage way. Should’ve listened sooner.”
“Yeeees.... Master right. Uuugh....”
Cannonball wakes crew one by one; sailors’ jet-ski Ottoman chuckles turn to bafflement.
Dolphin-cutting professor hauls gleaming silver catfish, declares.
“Breakfast! Plenty good stuff here!”
Post-incident, resolved: game denizen now, live joyfully, diligently.
Outside or here, slack off = die. Might as well die trying. Fun, like before.
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