The Librarian's Miracle

Librarian Ronley. The lakeside village of Grindel. At the pinnacle of the watchtower that rose proudly in its center, a woman stood poised.

The strong wind unique to high altitudes swept through with a low roar, scattering her light green hair and revealing long, snow-white ears.

Thud. Grindel's village chief, Ronley, closed the magic tome she had been slowly savoring alongside mint tea and surveyed her surroundings with a serene expression. In her pupils, which caught the light and glowed a soft green, the sight of Grindel under siege by aberrations was captured like a painting.

"The situation does not look favorable, it is the case."

Grindel sat on a remote island encircled by colossal guardian beasts on all sides. Entering the village therefore required crossing one of the great bridges positioned at the four cardinal directions without exception.

"Ronley-nim! ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠The bridges are completely overrun by aberrations, it is the case!"

Every single one of those routes had fallen to the aberrations. It was a clear state of emergency, and the corners of Ronley's eyes tightened faintly as her plan to enjoy a leisurely read dissolved into nothing.

"...I see it as well, newcomer. Therefore, please refrain from raising your voice. Elves are sensitive to loud noises, it is the case."

"Ah, yes...!"

Haah, honestly... If I had known things would turn out like this, I never would have accepted the position of village chief.

As she gazed down at Grindel, regret from the past shimmered across her eyes like moonlight on water.

But what use was regret now? She had fallen for the demon's trick and become bound to the role of Grindel's village chief until death or a successor arrived. Thanks to that, she had spent the last hundred years living dreamlike days inside her private library.

"I have no choice but to fulfill the responsibility I have taken on."

As always. Just as she had always done.

The aberrations wriggling ever closer to Grindel, and the brave adventurers who willingly hurled themselves forward to stop them. Taking them all in with her eyes, Ronley calmly declared to those around her.

"Everyone. Move to your assigned positions."

And protect it.

"Our Grindel."

"""Yes!"""

The village chief of Grindel and clan master of Clan Grindel. An 8-Tier archmage. Ronley the Librarian of Death.

At her command, the more than fifty clan members charged toward the battlefield without the slightest hesitation.

"...."

Ronley lightly bowed her head, offering a silent prayer for their safety, then gently clenched her fist.

"Then I suppose I should begin my own preparations."

Clan [Grindel]. This unusual organization, created solely to protect and manage Grindel, was composed entirely of vanguard classes with one exception. And here stood the great archmage who formed that single exception.

Rip.

At the archmage's call, an ominous tome tore through space and manifested.

—Fwoooosh.

As the book unfurled luxuriantly like a trampled red flower in full bloom, a dark crimson, alien energy seeped into Ronley's soft green eyes that had always carried the beauty of nature.

"...."

From deep within her chest, murderous intent and malice toward all living things surged upward. Yet her outward demeanor remained as tranquil as a still lake.

An ordinary human would have been devoured by the unknown malice lurking beneath the world and lost their life long ago, but she was no ordinary human. An elf. A pure intellect born from the goddess's warm love of nature.

Among such elves, Ronley was an ancient being who had existed since the age when demons called them alves. A steward of the great wilderness. A high elf.

Though her station stood below that of the demons born alongside chaos, she was nonetheless a being worthy of the word myth.

Well, these days she was simply called the village chief or the librarian, but the fact remained!

The Necronomicon... it is unusually insistent today....

The sticky malice pressing against the far side of her ironclad mental barrier. Ignoring it with practiced ease, Ronley began her chant.

The ancient characters drifting around Ronley converged into a single point, condensed in midair like a droplet of water, transformed into a black orb, and plummeted.

And then.

Plop.

The miracle occurred without sound.

A tiny dewdrop, as though shaken from a young leaf bowed beneath the chill of dawn, generated a colossal ripple. Like a butterfly's wingbeat birthing a storm, a quiet yet majestic resonance spread across the entire Green Zone.

The myth written in letters manifested for every soul touched by that faint but mighty wave.

"Why am I still alive?"

"What is this...?"

"It's the librarian! It's the librarian's magic!"

"Uwooooh! Power is flooding through me!!!"

The records of death and agony etched into the adventurers' bodies were erased and rewritten in blood. Deep wounds vanished. Losses became as if they had never existed. Healing of both mind and body, along with an overall amplification of every ability.

Her miracle reached all two hundred seventy-four adventurers who had stood at the crossroads of life and death upon the land named Grindel, blooming in radiant splendor.

"Come on! You aberration bastards!"

"My back doesn't hurt anymore—I'm invincible!"

"Ah, this familiar, nostalgic sensation... I cannot hold back."

The stars that had been fading regained the full strength of their prime and charged furiously at the enemy.

Had Raven witnessed it, he would have shed tears of blood while crying out to the goddess, What? A spell that applies large-scale healing and buffs simultaneously? Damn it, so my magic really was trash after all!? It was that kind of magnificent magic. A true miracle.

Yet forcibly summoning a miracle could not come without cost.

The instant the spell concluded.

Crunch.

Along with the sound of something gnawing bone and flesh.

"Egu-gu... Necronomicon, if you could bite just a little more gently, it wouldn't hurt nearly as much, would it?"

The high elf's lifespan had been reduced by approximately seventeen thousand five hundred forty-four hours. Converted to years, roughly two years—both long and short—had been consumed for that single instant of miracle.

Yet even after confirming the loss of her lifespan, her expression remained perfectly at peace. To one nearly immortal, time was an endlessly gushing spring. For her, the Necronomicon, which elevated the rank of her magic in exchange for life force, was the finest artifact imaginable.

Of course it hurt a little each time she cast, but that much could be considered an endearing flaw.

"Then shall we move on to reducing the number of aberrations? Attribute magic is too dangerous—the children might get caught in it—so curse magic would be better... Hm?"

While considering a suitable large-scale spell that would spare her allies, something snagged the high elf's razor-sharp senses.

...What was that just now?

To designate targets, Ronley had diffused a thin veil of mana across the entire Green Zone. That was how she could sense it. Or rather, she had not sensed anything at all. But ironically, the very fact that it could not be sensed allowed her to perceive its presence in reverse.

"A space completely devoid of mana? That is impossible, it is the case...?"

Mana was the lingering trace of the miracle left after the goddess shaped the world. In this miracle-filled realm, neither space nor object without mana could exist, nor should it.

"...."

An incomprehensible dread, like turning a page in a familiar book only to find it utterly blank. That unfamiliar emotion crawled slowly up Ronley's spine.

What troubled her even more was the fact that the unknown 'blank' was moving. And moving rapidly.

Straight toward their Grindel.

It's getting closer.

Their numbers were considerable, yet the aberrations targeting Grindel were at most 4-Tier. Therefore Ronley had felt no real threat from the current crisis, only concern that the adventurers might be injured.

But.

Gulp.

Cold sweat trickled down her skin as her dry throat struggled to swallow.

"That one is somewhat... dangerous, it is the case?"

In ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠all her long years, had her heart ever pounded this fiercely? The closest memory was her clumsy adventurer days, trailing after the hero and recording his footsteps.

After the hero's disappearance, she had sealed herself in her room, living quietly among ink and paper. Now some unknown existence threatened to shatter that warm yet hollow peace. Drawn by that mysterious power, the librarian who had imprisoned herself within her library slowly turned her head.

And she saw it.

"A mon...ster?"

A monstrous figure with the head of a crow, enormous wings spread wide, gazing down upon a land already swallowed by chaos.

Sniper. Raven. At Sherpa Sion's command, I have come to lend a hand...!

Therefore....

"What the hell is that thing in the sky!?"

"It's a monster! A crow monster!"

"...No."

I would appreciate it if you could stop the hostility there.

"Filling."

If you don't want to get roasted alive alongside those bipedal frogmen, that is.