Mage Milia (3)
A lunatic and a fool, each convinced that their own acting was flawless, finally arrived at the Glacies Magic Tower.
"It's not as cold as I expected?"
Esmeralda said with a dissatisfied frown. Merely approaching the Tower had already brought weather like the depths of winter.
And yet, upon actually reaching the Glacies Magic Tower—dedicated to the study of water, ice, and stasis—it wasn't nearly what she'd imagined.
"If I didn't keep raising the temperature, all the underlings would freeze to death whenever I do my research."
Glisha replied with a shrug, as if it were nothing.
In other words, the moment she seriously used her magic, even the mages who specialized in the same school of ice magic could all freeze solid.
"Aha."
So they really are all madmen!
Esmeralda nodded, as if a long-standing question had finally been answered.
Seeing human-shaped statues frozen stiff here and there certainly lent the claim some credibility.
As she continued glancing around, Esmeralda noticed a single person approaching them.
The place was crowded, but everyone was keeping their distance, too busy watching the Tower Master Glisha's mood—which made that one person's presence stand out all the more.
No, that couldn't be the only reason her presence was so striking.
"Hello, Esmeralda. And hello to you too, Irina and Jim. Good to see you."
A woman with a brown bob.
In place of the baggy robe she usually wore, she was dressed in something utterly out of character: an evening gown with generous exposure.
Yes, it was impossible not to be overwhelmed.
Because of those two mana pouches that would draw any gaze—even from another woman.
"It suits you very well, Milia."
"Mm, thanks."
Then what about Jim, whose lust had been running rampant lately?
Even as he praised Milia with practiced ease, his two eyes refused to leave her chest.
By this point it was an outright, frankly unpleasant stare.
But then, the person in question was Milia. She showed no particular objection to Jim's blatant act of sexual harassment.
No—on the contrary...
"If it bothers you, do you want to touch them?"
"Yes!"
"You may not!"
Jim shot out his hand along with his instant reply, but Irina intercepted it midway.
For some reason, her fingers were laced together in prayer.
When Jim, undeterred, tried to reach out with his other hand, Irina simply smiled sweetly and slammed her holy power straight into his palm.
"Kyaaaeeeeegh!"
"That should have washed away at least a little of the filth. For the best, really."
Irina said with a gentle smile.
Esmeralda felt as if she'd been given a preview of exactly what would happen if she handed Jim over to Irina.
'Maybe handing him over to Milia would actually be the better option.'
Her own version of the best solution.
As for what would become of Jim once the whole affair was over, she honestly couldn't say for certain. It wasn't as if she could risk her life to protect him forever, after all.
Once she toppled the Demon King, she was going to retire and go back to the countryside.
Living there, tilling a field, felt far more comfortable than chasing after honor or glory or whatever else.
In that sense, all she could do when the journey ended was entrust Jim to someone dependable.
After all, since she'd decided to bring him along to fight the Demon King, the Demon King's Army was unlikely to take him back.
'Or would it be better to prop this bastard up on the Demon King's throne and bolt?'
Esmeralda had no intention of slaughtering every last demon.
Her target was the Demon King. That was all.
The Hero was born because of the Demon King in the first place, so there was no helping it.
If she could topple the Demon King and him alone, she'd gladly do it.
After that? What became of the demon nation was beyond her.
Her capabilities were simply too narrow to plan all the way through to postwar cleanup.
So yes—forcing Jim onto the Demon King's seat didn't sound half bad. Well, any assassinations or threats would be his problem to sort out...
"Milia, please be careful. Jim is currently suffering from an illness that makes it dangerous for him to have careless contact with other women."
"Is that so? What kind of illness?"
"Well, it's..."
"There's no such illness, is there?"
"Fufu."
At the very least, he'd be happier than he would be placed between those two.
Of that, Esmeralda was certain.
Lilith had only just returned to her office, having stepped away to assess the latest developments on the front lines and formulate an appropriate operation in response.
"Haah... So then, what in the world is this mess?"
But the moment she arrived at her office, what greeted her was a mountain of scattered paperwork.
Judging by the ashen, drained look on her adjutant's face, this was clearly no ordinary matter.
Exposing her displeasure quite openly, Lilith pressed the adjutant for answers.
"W-well, you see..."
"I won't scold you, so speak freely. What happened?"
Lilith radiated an oppressive presence, all while concealing her decision to have the man reassigned the moment the story was over.
"...Legion Commander Five came by and went rummaging through your desk without permission, Lieutenant General."
"Legion Commander Five did? Was she here to lodge a complaint about the incident the other day?"
"I don't know. She only said that anyone who tried to stop her would burn to nothing..."
"I see. Understood. Then would you mind preparing a cup of coffee for a moment? I believe I need to verify separately just what the Legion Commander was searching for in here."
Lilith shelved, for the time being, her plan to reassign the adjutant.
A Legion Commander held the same rank as she did, but in practical terms was her superior.
Besides, Lilith had parachuted into her three stars, so it put her mind at ease to assume that everyone of equal rank stood above her.
"Hm. So she was digging through the files related to Jim, as I thought..."
Legion Commander Five had said she neither devised nor authorized any infiltration operation into the Hero Party.
Admittedly, the Hero Party's threat level back then was on the low side—not that it was her concern. The problem was that such an operation had been carried out without so much as Five's review. Which meant someone had forged their superior's seal.
"We've been rather busy on our end as well, you know..."
Lilith turned over what Five's objective might be.
It was probably one of two things.
Finding Jim, who was carrying out this operation.
Or finding traces of the person who had actually executed it.
'Lieutenant Colonel Extra...'
The field-grade officer who had forced this operation through. And who had volunteered for the mission to recover Jim—only to die at the Hero's hands.
'Are you truly dead?'
Like a bit player in a play.
Gone just like that, far too easily—and in the here and now, not a single soul gave his death a second thought.
Lilith felt a prickle of unease.
"Lieutenant General, your coffee..."
"I'm stepping out for a while. Kindly organize any documents that come in and sort them on the desk in my absence."
"Ah, yes, ma'am!"
Lilith left the room without so much as touching the coffee her adjutant had brought.
The more deeply she involved herself in matters concerning Jim, the more some strange, alien something lingered inside her.
Which meant there was only one thing to do: verify it herself.
'First, I'll go to the place where Lieutenant Colonel Extra is said to have been murdered.'
Legion Commander Five was likely to be there.
He came to with a jolt of tingling sensation.
"Uuaaaaagh!"
He remembered his hand moving, as if possessed, toward Milia's chest—but everything after that was a blur.
Had he come down with dementia?
Why did his memory feel riddled with holes these days?
"Oh my, Jim. Are you all right?"
"Ah, yes, I'm fine."
Still feeling the numbness in his palm, he accepted a glass of water someone handed him and drank it down.
It wasn't water, as it turned out. But it was pleasantly refreshing, so he kept drinking.
Only after quenching his thirst did he notice the Saintess, Irina, standing there.
"This is tasty. Is it sparkling water?"
"You seemed unwell, so I mixed in a little holy water."
"Aha?"
No wonder it had that fizzy, biting taste.
So that was the taste of my esophagus being scorched.
Still, she'd only added a little, so it wasn't too offensive.
Maybe that was just how it went—intense, unhealthy things were the ones that tasted good.
"How do you feel? Do you sense some of the filth within being washed away?"
"Ah, yes. I believe I do."
"I'll keep mixing it in from now on. Until every last drop of the filth inside you is gone."
"..."
Irina smiled sweetly.
It was the same pure, lovely smile as always, and yet it still gave him the creeps.
"Jim, are you feeling all right?"
"Ah, Milia, you were here too. No—my apologies, Lady Hero, you're here as well. For everyone to worry over me like this, I hardly know where to put myself. Though if that worry grew just a little more excessive and led to the conclusion that I couldn't accompany you on the rest of the journey, nothing could make me happier."
"Without you, there's no one to read books with me. So no."
"That's right, Jim. Comrades are precious things. Let's stay together from now on, all the way—until the Demon King is dead."
"Haha..."
What a pack of barbarians.
Why won't they solve anything through conversation?
I'd like to meet the Demon King face to face myself, but why do humans all insist on treating demons as the enemy, without exception?
Honestly, from where I stood—belonging to neither side—the two of them didn't seem all that different to me.
"Jim."
"Ah, yes. Milia. I wasn't thinking anything at all."
Really.
I wasn't badmouthing any of you.
He protested like a thief crying "stop, thief!"—but judging by Milia's expression, it seemed his distress had genuinely worried her.
She spoke with a blank face.
"If it's too much, tell me."
"I'm fine."
"I'll let you touch my chest."
"I'm far too exhausted."
Far, far too much had happened to him.