The Mage's Confession
After returning to the village, the hero scoured the place high and low to fix his left arm. But for all his desperate efforts, he came up empty-handed.
The church declared it impossible. There was no severed arm to reattach, and the wound's stump had healed over completely—no recovery spell could touch it. Heaven truly was merciless.
"They might be able to heal it in the Wandering Village. Though I can't say for sure."
The high priestess spoke cautiously, her tone restrained as if holding back.
False hope was poison to a patient. In her eyes, even with all the skilled clerics in the Wandering Village, healing the hero's arm would be a tall order. Short of a miracle.
"I understand."
The hero nodded weakly. His empty left sleeve fluttered limply.
Every glance at his missing arm brought phantom pains—like sharp needles pricking his forearm over and over. It felt like his body no longer belonged to him.
I have to go to the Wandering Village. The priestess mentioned she had business there too. His body was healed enough now; time to pack up and leave at once.
Back at the inn, the hero sought out the mage. There was no time to waste.
"Hero. What did the church say?"
The mage fired the question as soon as she saw him.
"They said I might find a healer in the Wandering Village."
The hero twisted the high priestess's words in his reply. It was a form of self-hypnosis.
"Really? That's... good news...."
The mage forced a feeble smile.
"Mage, pack our gear. Check us out of the inn too. We need to head to the Wandering Village right away. I'll tell the priestess myself."
"Huh...? You mean right now?"
"Of course. I want to fix this arm as soon as possible. Otherwise, we can't keep adventuring."
The hero gave a bitter smile. The mage, who'd been scratching her cheek incessantly like someone with an itch in front of him, finally set her jaw with resolve. Her voice carried determination.
"Hero. Why don't we... just stay here?"
The hero's expression shifted at her words. It was like he'd heard a declaration of war.
"What did you say?"
"Let's end the journey and settle here. Adventuring is too dangerous, no matter how you look at it. This time it was just an arm, but next time... who knows."
"Mage! I'm the hero! I won't bend to some setback like this! What do you take me for!?"
The hero snapped irritably.
His sharply cracked voice made the mage flinch in surprise. She'd expected a poor reaction, but this was harsher than anticipated.
Ever since they'd limped out of the dungeon in tatters—no, ever since he'd killed in there—the hero's personality had started twisting bit by bit. A madness she'd never seen before flickered in his eyes now and then. This version of the hero felt utterly alien to her.
He was headstrong and immature, sure, but at his core, the hero was a good man. Separate from his legendary stubbornness, he had a way of drawing people in.
But now? He was like a wild beast—baring sharp fangs the moment you reached out.
"Mage! Don't tell me you don't want me to recover?"
"Of course not. I'm just worried about you...."
"If you're worried, then pack! Actually, never mind. I'll ask the priestess. You just stay put."
At the mention of the priestess, the mage bristled with defiance. Did the hero still have feelings for her?
While he'd been suffering through hell, the priestess had spent mere days with some guy and ended up in bed with him. The hero must have felt utterly betrayed—yet here he was, still hung up on her?
The mage found it infuriating.
"No, hero. I'll pack...."
In a normal spat, she'd have raised her voice too. But now? It felt like he'd whisk the priestess away and leave forever. She couldn't bear that thought.
The hero brushed past without a word. He was still fuming. He slammed the door to his room with a thud.
"What was that about?"
Johann stepped into the hall, sensing the commotion, and addressed the mage. She shot him an irritated glare.
Ever since this man showed up, the party had gone off the rails. He hadn't done anything wrong, per se. But his arrival had sown division—and that unsettled her.
"None of your business, porter."
The words slipped out cold and biting, pure provocation. Her emotions were getting the better of her.
"I heard the hero raising his voice. Were you fighting?"
Johann didn't bat an eye at her prickliness.
"It's personal."
"If it's a party dispute, I can't just call it personal. What happened? I might be able to help."
Johann spoke with a sweet smile. The mage hated the sight of it. He'd probably flashed that same grin to seduce the priestess.
She turned away wordlessly. But Johann persisted, falling in step beside her. His tenacity reminded her of the hero.
"Bottling it up won't solve anything. Talking it out might reveal a path forward."
"......"
"Well, if you don't want to say now, tell me later. My ears are always open."
His humility made her feel awkward. The mage let out a cute sigh and opened up.
"Sigh.... Where do I even start? Maybe the problem began the moment you showed up...."
"Huh? Did I make some blunder?"
"A huge one. Messing around with the priestess. Not that I want to meddle in your love life, but it's clearly bothering the hero."
Once she started, the rest poured out. Unloading worries was always hardest at the first knot.
"This'll take a while. Want to hit the tavern nearby?"
"You've got a girlfriend—sure you should be cozying up like this?"
"This isn't a date. It's strictly business."
Johann's logic was airtight. The mage nodded.
"Fair enough. Fine. But you're buying, porter."
"Naturally."
They headed to a tavern near the inn—lively enough for private talk without eavesdroppers. The mage ordered the cheapest drink and sighed deeply as she sat.
"Just now, the hero said we should leave for the Wandering Village immediately."
"Perfect timing. The priestess needs to go there to lift her curse too."
"Not so perfect. If he gets his arm fixed there.... he'll want to adventure again."
"Obviously. He's the hero."
"I... don't want that."
Johann tilted his head at her confession.
"Why not?"
"It's dangerous."
"True enough. But worrying about the hero—who's braved countless dungeons risking that danger—feels a bit off to me."
"He's strong, sure. But personal strength doesn't guarantee safety. Look at this incident. Nothing says it won't happen again."
The drinks arrived—cheap coffee, more suited to a cafe than a tavern.
The mage downed it in one go. Laden with sugar, it was sickeningly sweet.
"When I first joined the party, I figured I'd score big off the hero's talents—they shone so brightly in my eyes. Clearing dungeons with him, sweeping up treasure... it was thrilling. But now...."
"Now?"
"Now I just want him safe. Headstrong, stubborn, grinning like an idiot—fine by me. Even if we make no money. Just... safe."
The mage bared her honest heart. She'd never been this frank even with the hero.
"I see. You like the hero."
Johann summed it up neatly. She didn't deny it.
"Yeah. Stupid, right? He's nothing like me—not a single trait in common—yet I like him. How absurd is that?"
"Not absurd at all. People are drawn to opposites. Like puzzle pieces—we crave what the other has."
"True. You and the priestess have zero in common too."
"Exactly. Anyway, I get how you feel. But have you confessed to the hero?"
"Way too personal. No."
It'd be pointless anyway. The hero's eyes were on the priestess, not her.
"So his heart belongs to someone else."
Johann pointed it out. The mage nodded coolly.
"Seems he's into your pretty girlfriend. After all I've done for him, here I am on the sidelines."
The mage watched the hero; the hero watched the priestess. And Johann had won the priestess's heart.
Johann propped his chin, covering his mouth. Any longer, and she'd spot his vile grin.
"The key is getting him to let go of the priestess, right?"
"Yeah...."
"Good. I think I can help."
The mage's eyes lit up.
"For real!?"
"Of course. Though I'll need your help too."