The Value of Resurrection Magic
One week had passed since Shishiroka collapsed.
The cause was exactly what everyone expected—the Seed of Banna.
Shishiroka had always been frail because of that seed. Now it was devouring her body far faster than anyone anticipated, reaching a point her teenage frame could no longer endure.
She was confined to her bed. Her legs had stopped working properly and kept giving out beneath her.
Lapiel had cared for her for several days, but even her holy magic proved powerless against the seed’s advance. In the end, Shishiroka never rose from that sickbed again.
Sunlight poured into the quiet room.
Shishiroka stared endlessly out the window. On a branch outside, two sparrows perched, chirping away at each other as if sharing the world’s funniest secret.
“Senior Shishiroka.”
“Ah, Harua.”
At my call, she turned her head.
In just one week, she had grown even thinner. Her arms were nothing but skin and bone, her legs even worse. In such a short time, her condition had deteriorated at an alarming rate.
Perhaps she had already been at her limit long before. She had simply done her best to appear calm.
Her body had been broken and dying for a very long time.
A single book lay beside her—a treatise on holy magic. Even now, Shishiroka refused to give up on mastering it. Whether she made progress or not, she remained the same.
“You won’t believe what happened today. Master Lapiel tormented me again.”
I stood in front of her and recounted the day’s events with as much energy as I could muster. This had become part of my daily routine.
Shishiroka listened with quiet delight, occasionally letting out a soft laugh. Lately, when I ran out of stories, I told her about Earth. Her eyes would sparkle with wonder every time.
“Once you’re back on your feet, we’ll go together someday.”
I never forgot to give her that final push of encouragement.
“Yes… that sounds wonderful.”
Shishiroka never once said she would go with me.
Another month slipped by.
My holy magic was finally beginning to show real results. Lapiel hadn’t been lying when she called me talented.
Meanwhile, Shishiroka grew thinner by the day. Her limbs were nearly skeletal, her body hollowed out. Her chest had sunk so deeply that her ribs were visible, and her cheeks were gaunt and hollow.
Recently she had even lost consciousness, forcing Lapiel to rush to her side in the middle of the night. The holy magic book still rested beside her.
The periods when Shishiroka slept grew longer. When she woke, I would greet her and she would offer a faint smile in return.
These days I exaggerated my stories even more. Having loved reading as a child, I had plenty of material to draw from. Shishiroka often laughed at my over-the-top expressions.
She still laughed a lot.
Another month passed.
My seed was every bit as stubborn as Lapiel had warned. It refused to crack, showing no sign of sprouting. Becoming a truly great holy mage was clearly no easy feat.
Shishiroka now spent less than two hours awake each day. Most of her time was spent sleeping. When she woke, she could barely tell whether reality was a dream or not.
I continued telling her stories as usual. Her laughter had grown rarer, so I acted even more dramatically. That managed to draw out a few more smiles.
A week went by.
During that time, there were days when Shishiroka slept for two full days straight. Her body had reached its absolute limit—Lapiel had even stayed by her side for an entire day, watching over her.
“Harua.”
She called my name while I was speaking to her after one of her rare awakenings.
“If I had possessed talent like yours, Harua… could I have lived a little longer?”
Talent as a holy mage.
I hadn’t even begun to bloom yet. Still, Shishiroka envied me for it. If she had that kind of talent, perhaps she might have had a chance.
“You had so many things you wanted to do. You wanted to visit the Second World, go on adventures, get married someday, and have children.”
Things anyone might dream of. Shishiroka had dreamed of them too.
“But I suppose… those dreams were too greedy for someone like me.”
She smiled weakly.
At some point I had taken her hand in mine.
“Why would that be greedy?”
Her gaze met mine.
“Everyone dreams. How can something as ordinary as that be called greed? If a world points fingers at people just for daring to dream, then that world deserves to burn.”
Everyone has dreams. If simply having them makes you greedy, then the world is already broken.
“Shishiroka, you gave it everything you had. No one has the right to call that greed.”
I had stopped using formal speech with her. The wall between us had come down.
She looked up at me with dazed eyes, then slowly curved her lips into a smile.
“You’re right. I did try my best, didn’t I?”
“Yeah. You really did.”
I knew better than anyone how hard she had worked—studying holy magic late into the night even as exhaustion dragged her down. She no longer read the theoretical texts. Having memorized them all, she spent every waking moment practicing the spells instead. I had watched her do it.
Who could possibly say she hadn’t tried?
“Then… I’m glad.”
Shishiroka slowly closed her eyes.
“Because until the very end, I was someone who never gave up.”
“Shishiroka.”
I called her name. Instinct told me that once those eyelids closed today, they would never open again.
This was the end.
What do you say to someone in their final moments?
After a brief hesitation, the words left my lips.
“My ability… is resurrection magic.”
I squeezed her hand tightly.
If someone asked whether we had built a deep bond, I wouldn’t know how to answer. We had only known each other for a few months. Even then, after she fell ill, we hadn’t done much together. But she had fought so desperately to live. Instead of fear in the face of death, she had coughed up blood and kept struggling.
Of all the savage otherworlders I had met, she was the one who tried the hardest.
Standing before her, I couldn’t bring myself to hide my ability any longer.
“If it’s me, I can bring you back. I will save you, no matter what.”
Her eyelids fluttered open faintly.
“You said you wanted to see the ocean, right? I’ll go find a carriage or something. We’ll go together. I’ll become a great holy mage soon and take you to the Second World. And after that, we’ll even cross over to Earth. There’s so much left to do.”
I declared I would bring her back to life and take her with me.
She looked at me and at our joined hands, then gave a faint, powerless smile.
“Really? That sounds fun.”
And even today,
she never said she would go with me.
“It really… sounds wonderful.”
Her voice broke off.
The strength left her hand.
Her frail body collapsed back onto the bed.
There was still warmth in her fingers. But it was the kind of warmth that could vanish at any moment.
Light began to leak from my clenched fist.
It was the resurrection magic I hadn’t used since Bulldog—my first time in a long while.
The light spread through the window and sank into Shishiroka’s body.
The white glow gradually faded.
Soon, only silence remained in the room.
But Shishiroka did not wake.
She lay perfectly still, eyes gently closed.
“Shishiroka.”
In truth, I had known all along.
Resurrection magic could indeed bring someone back. But it only restored them to the state they were in right before death. If holy magic could extend lifespan, no one in this world would ever die of old age. Lapiel would have cured Shishiroka long ago if that were possible.
Once a person’s natural lifespan ended, even resurrection could not save them. A body that had reached its physical limit could not be fixed by holy magic.
This was the one case where resurrection magic might fail.
I had always kept that possibility in mind. That was why, until the very last moment, I had hesitated to tell her the truth.
And in the end, I had sent her off after planting nothing but false hope.
No. She must have known too.
She had studied the theory of holy magic more thoroughly than anyone. The moment she heard my words, she would have realized she could not be saved. That was why she had accepted death so quietly.
The warmth in her hand grew distant.
They were small hands, calloused from turning pages every single day.
“Shishiroka.”
No matter how many times I called her name, she would never rise again.
A person my resurrection magic could not save had left this world.
“Fuck.”
The curse slipped out before I could stop it.
I had known for a long time that resurrection magic wasn’t omnipotent. I knew it from using it on myself. Yet somewhere deep down, I had believed I could save her until the end.
“Fuck.”
I pressed my face into my hands and let out another curse.
Pathetic. I hated how utterly fucking pathetic I was.
It wasn’t as if I had deep feelings for Shishiroka. We had only known each other a few months. There hadn’t been enough time for anything profound. Still, I despised the version of myself that had declared he would hide his resurrection magic, then broke that declaration to try saving a girl—only to fail completely.
What was the point of resurrection magic? What was the point of being called talented in holy magic? If I couldn’t even save one dying girl, what good was any of it?
No. That wasn’t right.
It was precisely because I had resurrection magic that I had survived this long. One otherworlder had died. That was all. There was no problem.
Lapiel would take even better care of me from now on. There was no more time to waste. This was for the best.
Think positively. Good is good.
“Shishiroka.”
Yet there I was, still calling her name, hoping she would open her eyes.
I hated this fucking otherworld. I hated it so much I could go insane.
I hated this irrational reality. I hated that even after throwing away my resolve, I still couldn’t save a single girl.
I gritted my teeth.
That was why I refused to live weakly enough to accept such unfairness.
I reached out and gently took a strand of her blue hair.
At my current level, reviving someone with just a single hair would require far too much mana. It was impossible right now.
But I had made her a promise.
A promise to bring her back with resurrection magic.
It was the first promise I had made since falling into this world. In a world full of lies, I wanted to live truthfully, at least as myself.
So someday, I would find a way to overcome the Seed of Banna that was eating away at her. I would become a greater holy mage than even Lapiel and discover the solution.
On the day I solved the seed and extended her lifespan, I would keep the promise I made to her today.
“Just wait a little longer. Sleep for now.”
Perhaps because the world itself found me pathetic, raindrops traced lines down my cheeks.
The weather today was clear.
