The Witch Who Will Save the World (1)
The Witch Who Will Save the World (1)
Mages were, by nature, creatures who hungered for knowledge.
Devouring high-quality magic books and learning under an exceptional teacher were ultimately the same thing.
All for the sake of gaining more knowledge, for constructing more revolutionary magic.
In that sense, the current situation was nothing short of a dream for them.
The fact that they were so absorbed in the magic books that they forgot they had even been abducted said it all.
Thud.
Ro Fernandi closed the magic book with a sigh.
"Th-they're all genuine. This is absurd..."
"R-really?"
At Jeina's question, Ro nodded as if he himself couldn't believe it.
Magic books personally authored by Balta Krana, the Archmage who had led the renaissance of magic three hundred years ago. The 'Balta Krana' series.
'I heard the imperial palace only has three volumes...!'
And now five of those treasures sat before his very eyes.
That alone was enough to make his head spin, but on top of that, artifacts he had never seen in his life appeared, leaving him utterly unable to close his mouth.
Gulp.
'I want them.'
'Just a little, I want to read just a little longer!'
Even Aramis could not tear his eyes away from the magic books at this moment. If Fernandi, who was called the 'Ancient Text Decoder' at the White Tower, said they were genuine, then they were genuine.
Therefore, this mountain of magic books was all genuine.
'Just what on earth...'
Aramis subtly turned his gaze. Just who was this person, to show off such treasures so casually?
When hiding them away would still not be enough.
It was clear that her mindset was different from that of ordinary people.
Tak!
With the sound of a finger snap, the magic books were sucked into a subspace. The White Tower mages licked their lips as they watched the books vanish before their eyes.
"Ah..."
"Now, the appetizer ends here. If you want to see more...you know what to do, right?"
"W-would it be alright if I asked just a few more questions before we decide?"
"As many as you like. I'm a more generous person than I look."
Ah...
So she was generous.
And that was why she beat a person like a dog.
Jeina barely managed to collect herself and asked,
"If you truly are a mage, couldn't you have respectfully sought permission from the Tower Lord and brought us here? Why did you have to..."
Why did you have to abduct us so violently and cruelly, was what she meant.
Hm, there was a dagger hidden in those words.
The reason she hadn't done that was simple, actually.
'As if your Tower Lord would ever agree to that.'
She'd be lucky if he didn't just cut her head off.
A favorability of minus 80 held that kind of power.
In the first place, if she could have brought them here by asking 'respectfully,' she would have gone to the Imperial Academy. Why would she bother going to a remote, backwater White Tower?
...But she could not exactly say that.
She needed to phrase it more indirectly.
After a moment of deliberation, Olivia opened her mouth.
"My curse makes that impossible."
"...Pardon?"
"Exactly what I said. When an ordinary person sees me, they develop murderous intent toward me. The White Tower Lord trying to kill me was for the same reason."
Everyone shut their mouths without replying. They seemed fairly shocked.
She hadn't told a lie.
She had just embellished it a little.
Honestly, a curse was far better than having her favorability completely wrecked.
"...Then what about us?"
"Occasionally, there are people like you who aren't affected by the curse. Even I don't know the cause."
Hm, she knew it well, actually.
Knew it very well.
They had ended up that way because they hadn't been killed by her.
"What a remarkable coincidence that all three people with such a rare constitution happened to be in the White Tower."
Aramis spoke in a tone that was clearly picking a fight. Olivia suddenly thrust her face close to his.
"Looks like you haven't been beaten enough yet?"
"N-no. That's not it. My speech has always been like this."
Aramis flinched in surprise and waved his hands. Whether he did or not, Olivia had no intention of stopping.
No matter how nominal it was, a disciple was a disciple.
And since she was older than them anyway, it was only logical that she receive honorifics, at the very least.
This was absolutely not because she was a stickler for hierarchy.
Absolutely not.
"No, you haven't been beaten enough. Just look—that person over there had never used honorifics in her entire life, and now she uses them perfectly well."
Their gazes naturally turned to one side.
"..."
Glacia glared back at the stares focused on her.
'Lower your eyes, you bastards!'
The trio hesitated for a moment, then turned their heads away.
'I mean, did we do something so wrong?'
'We just looked at her. So touchy.'
Glacia sighed deeply in her heart.
Since when had the dignity of a dragon fallen to this miserable state?
After quietly observing that heartwarming scene, Olivia spoke.
"Aramis."
"...Why did you call me?"
"Why did you call me, what?"
Aramis clenched his jaw. But when the familiar crackling sound came from Olivia's grip, he had no choice but to back down.
"...Why did you call me, ma'am."
"Yes, yes. There you go."
"Cough!"
"Hehehe!"
Watching his peers stifle their laughter, Aramis gritted his teeth again.
"While you're at it, call me Master."
"T-Tea-Tea..."
The benevolent face of Lloyd surfaced in Aramis's mind. He was the benefactor who had accepted Aramis, a homeless orphan with nowhere to go, as a disciple of the White Tower.
As cold and calculating as Aramis's personality was, he still knew the bare minimum of loyalty.
'I have only one master. That will never change.'
But at the same time, he did not want his brain pickled by electricity again.
That was a kind of agony he never wished to experience a second time. Just thinking about suffering the humiliation of writhing on the floor like a worm again made him dizzy already.
Aramis slowly lifted his head. Olivia was fiddling with her staff, a faint smile on her lips.
'W-what kind of look is that...!'
Olivia's eyes were fixed on him without the slightest waver. A face utterly impossible to read.
That was genuine madness.
Aramis swallowed without realizing it. The image of Lloyd foaming at the mouth and collapsing flickered before him.
- Grrrrrle!
He made up his mind. He would build up his strength under Olivia, and then avenge Lloyd.
'I am absolutely not doing this because I'm scared.'
Right. Absolutely not.
The White Tower Lord would surely understand.
Since the next White Tower Lord had to survive first in order to become one.
"...Teach."
Having said that much, Aramis stealthily raised his head.
And then he saw it.
Olivia's face, right in front of his nose.
At that spine-chilling sight, Aramis finally let go of his last shred of pride.
"...er."
"Good."
Olivia smiled and stepped back.
Letting go of pride was only hard the first time. From the second time on, it was easy.
'That Aramis, he needs to learn to swallow his pride a little.'
When the opponent was strong, you had to know when to bend. If you couldn't do that, you should at least know your place. If you didn't, you died.
'That's why he broke, after all.'
In the previous Run, Aramis had died before Olivia even began the Genocide Route.
Along with his two friends.
Aramis broke the silence.
"May I ask one question?"
"You're missing something at the end there, my disciple."
"Master."
Every time he spoke, he felt like he could hear his teeth being ground down, but he paid it no mind.
Because Olivia was very generous.
"If I learn under you, Master, can I become the best?"
"No?"
"...Excuse me?"
Aramis let out a shrill voice. The same went for Jeina and Ro, who were watching from behind.
Olivia looked over each of their faces, then asked in return.
With an expression utterly serious, unlike anything before.
"What do you think 'the best' is?"
"That's..."
Stillness filled the surroundings.
The best, huh...
Had he ever thought about it this seriously?
Becoming a Tower Lord, rewriting the history of magic.
And reaching the truth.
That was the dream and goal of all mages.
But was that truly 'the best'?
At long intervals spanning thousands of years, or short ones spanning hundreds, people who reached the truth would appear.
Then did those who became 'the best' have nowhere left to go?
No.
'The best is a relative concept.'
The best pursued by an average mage and the best pursued by a Tower Lord couldn't even be dared to be compared.
Aramis slowly lifted his head. He thought he understood what Olivia had meant by asking this.
'The question was wrong.'
Not the best, but a goal.
"Master, no."
Aramis looked up at Olivia with eyes slightly different from moments before.
"How far can you take me?"
Olivia raised a finger and pointed at the sky.
"Higher than your goal."
At that arrogant confidence, Aramis laughed without realizing it.
"Ha, hahahaha!"
She was insane.
No matter how he thought about it, this woman was definitely crazy.
'As if she knows where my goal lies.'
But one thing was certain.
This woman.
Olivia.
She was a mage who, in a mere mortal body, had risen above the proud dragons.
Aramis recalled the first teaching he had received at the White Tower.
[A mage must not retreat a single step in the pursuit of truth!]
Suddenly, he wanted to see a mirror. He wondered what expression he was wearing.
But a moment later, the instant he saw his peers' faces, he realized there was no need.
They had decided not to retreat.
They were trying to seize this chance to get even a little closer to the truth.
He was the same.
Thud!
The mages of the White Tower bowed their heads simultaneously.
The witch who had destroyed the world—no.
It was the moment they became disciples of the witch who would save it.