The Contract Is Void

"What's going on?"

Spear Saint Asel was the one who asked. Most of the people gathered here had no idea what had just taken place. Stepping into someone's inner world to hold a conversation wasn't merely uncommon — it was virtually unheard of. Only a Transcendent could do it, and not a half-finished one like me. It required a fully completed spiritual framework.

...Even thinking it over again, I still couldn't figure out how the Bishop had formed an inner world. Had he already possessed that kind of talent?

"...The Black Tower Master is going to attack a city."

"Is that true?"

The news landed hard, as it was bound to. The most dramatic reaction came from the Hero. For someone whose mission was to protect humanity, word that a band of black mages was about to assault a city struck like lightning from a clear sky.

This wasn't something the people in this room could handle on their own.

Wanting to give them a precise location, I reviewed the city the Bishop had shown me. Tracing it against the map, a flicker of recognition stirred. No — not recognition. I knew this city.

...Do all black mages think exactly the same way? What kind of coincidence is this?

The city's name was Antoni.

It was the city I had offered up as a sacrifice before my regression — the price I paid to reach Transcendence. The timeline was different, so I hadn't recognized it through the Bishop's memories. But now that I was looking at the location properly, it came back with perfect clarity.

I never expected to come face to face with the greatest sin of my previous life like this. And I certainly never expected that the city I had wiped from the map would be the one I now had to protect.

Then again, it wasn't truly a coincidence. Geopolitically speaking, Antoni was an ideal target for any black mage hunting Transcendence. The city itself was royal territory — land under the direct rule of the royal family. It had no lord of its own, and its defense fell to the Capital's Golden Knights.

Did that mean its defenses were as airtight as the Capital's? Not even close. The royal family poured everything into protecting the city they actually lived in. However large Antoni might be, its only figure of any importance was the mayor. How thorough could its garrison possibly be?

That was why Antoni, for all its size, had always been vulnerable to a sudden assault. I had exploited that exact weakness — erased the city in a single morning and reached Transcendence on the back of it.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

The Black Tower Master's thinking wouldn't have been much different from mine. Burn the city down on a short timetable, and use it to reach Transcendence.

...Though a great deal of it still didn't add up. Why was the Black Tower Master so determined to become a Transcendent in the first place? Magi seized all at once, without the proper process, might grant power on par with a Transcendent for a short while — but only for a short while. The body couldn't endure it.

"There's something to it, no doubt."

Either the Black Tower Master had found a genuine clue to reaching Transcendence, or he had some purpose that required him to get there. It had to be one or the other.

While I was turning it over, the Hero stepped in front of me and pressed for answers. Of everyone here, she was the most visibly on edge.

"Where exactly is this city, Argal?"

"Antoni. The city near the Capital."

"He's attacking a city of over a hundred thousand people. The Black Tower Master? Has he lost his mind?"

Fran, somehow, even had Antoni's exact population ready to go. Raeli looked puzzled.

"I don't really know what the Black Magic Tower is, but do they actually have that kind of power? Enough to hit a whole city?"

"That's just how black mages work. The more people they kill, the stronger they get. Kill people, take the Magi from the dead, use it to kill more people — and eventually you can wipe a city off the map."

"Th-then isn't this actually really bad?"

"It's not that big a problem if we can respond in time. Argal, it hasn't started yet, right?"

"Not yet. They're on the verge of attacking, though."

Their preparations looked all but complete. Which meant that by the time we arrived, the Black Tower Master would already be in the middle of his assault. If we ran from the very start, we might just make it — barely.

The Sword Saint uncrossed his arms.

"Shall I go? Or will the Hero?"

"What do you mean?"

"This is beyond what we can handle on our own. A straight fight with the Black Tower Master would be one thing. Facing black mages who grow stronger with every citizen they sacrifice, with only the people in this room — that's suicide."

He was saying they needed outside help.

"The only people here who can mobilize the Golden Knights immediately are the Hero and myself."

The Hero, savior of humanity. The Sword Saint, young master of Lucelmani. Between everyone present, they were the only two with the authority to move the Golden Knights — the single most powerful force defending the Capital.

Simply telling the Knights that Antoni was under attack wouldn't mean much. Announce a sudden assault, try to persuade them through proper channels, and it would already be too late. What mattered was getting the order moving now.

The Hero considered it for a moment.

"I believe it would be best if I went. I am already acquainted with the Knight-Commander."

"As am I. Even so, this is a task better suited to the Hero. Take my seal with you."

The Sword Saint handed her a ring engraved with the crest of Lucelmani, and explained why.

"Give the Knight-Commander the seal and make the request. That alone will be enough. Besides, the Hero arriving with my seal will carry more weight than if I went to persuade him myself."

A family's seal was a gift given only to a benefactor. The mere possession of one commanded the utmost hospitality — and could extract a considerable price in return. Even the Sword Saint, heir to his house, would possess only a single one. That he was willing to hand it to the Knight-Commander said everything about how far he intended to go to move the Golden Knights.

The Hero inclined her head.

"You have my gratitude, Reinhardt. I shall not forget your contribution."

"...I said I would play along. I am merely keeping my word."

His gaze flicked toward me for a moment. So that's what he'd meant when he handed me the elixir. Wealth and status on a level few people could match were always going to be useful. I nodded, acknowledging the help.

Fran, who had been turning something over, suddenly lifted her head.

"Shouldn't we get the Church moving as well, not just the Golden Knights?"

"...There are a great many suspicious things about the Church."

The Hero didn't trust them. She was worried that, handled poorly, they would become an obstacle rather than an asset.

"That won't be a problem."

I wasn't particularly concerned. The Church had been fairly well-behaved even before my regression. They had cooperated with the Hero for a long time without any outward trouble — probably to earn her trust. Whatever else they might be hiding, it wouldn't surface now. We needed every hand we could get. Taking the Church's help was the right call.

"Then the Hero should request aid from the Church and go to the Golden Knights."

"And what do you intend to do, Reinhardt?"

"I suppose I ought to pay the mayor of Antoni a visit."

The Sword Saint's rank had plenty of other uses. However thin Antoni's defenses were, it wasn't as though the city had no guards or knights at all. Apprentices of the Golden Knights were stationed there to serve out their training, and a city watch did exist. If Fran or Raeli showed up with a warning, no one would give them the time of day. The young master of Lucelmani saying the same thing was a different matter entirely. He could move the mayor by rank alone if he had to.

So the Sword Saint facing the mayor and delivering the warning was the right play. If the attack started before he got there, there was nothing to be done about it — but they had to do everything they could.

And with that, every role was assigned.

"Have we more or less settled it, then?"

"Then let's move. I'll have the maid prepare a carriage."

"Should we follow Reinhardt, then?"

"If it's to save Argal and the Bishop, I wouldn't mind fighting a few black mages."

She bolted upright.

"No. Absolutely not."

Everyone else had been ready to agree — and then the one who had collapsed earlier came to. Besia stared at me with eyes gone raw and scarlet.

...She must have gone to see the Bishop. What did she see that left her looking like that?

"I only asked the Bishop one thing."

"And what was that...?"

"You. Again."

Besia clenched her teeth. Whatever she had seen in there had shaken her so badly that the feeling was written across her face in plain letters.

"..."

"I don't know how you die. I don't know what happens after. But one thing was certain."

I couldn't make sense of it. Bishop — why in the world would you show her that? This was only going to tangle everything.

She seized me by the collar.

"You're not seriously thinking of just sitting here, are you?"

"...This isn't something I can sit out, Besia. I don't know what the Bishop showed you, but that was a prediction, not a prophecy. He has remarkable insight — that is all. He is not a prophet. If I'm careful enough, I won't—"

"Don't give me that bullshit."

Her tears welled up, catching in those bloodshot eyes until they looked like they were running red.

"You think I can ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠just sit still after watching a prediction of you dying?"

The hand on my collar tightened. She looked fully prepared to choke me unconscious and leave me behind.

...This is a nightmare.

The Bishop predicting my death. Besia seeing it. It felt like a warning aimed squarely at me — that charging forward with my usual willingness to die over and over again did this to the people around me.

And even if I didn't die, they simply wouldn't believe it, so what then? I could die to prove the point and they would just revive me with an elixir or whatever else they had on hand, then explode at me all over again. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠There was no winning that.

A step back was the smarter play. Better to play along here and act freely than to let Besia put some kind of leash on me.

"All right, Besia."

"...What?"

"I'll do as you say."

She hadn't expected me to fold so easily. The surprise curdled straight into suspicion.

"You're lying, aren't you? The second we leave, you're going to come running after us."

...She figured that out fast.

But I didn't have a choice. Even if I wanted to sit this one out and just watch how it ended, the whole thing felt too wrong. I couldn't begin to guess what kind of catastrophe would unfold if I wasn't there. I had to move — even if it meant lying to her.

"...I'll stay put. Really, Besia."

"I don't believe you."

"If you can't believe me, you're welcome to use physical means."

Oh, I won't go. Really.

Putting on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that kind of bravado only left Besia looking more confused. Was he actually staying? Was he serious?

While she was still tangled in that, I looked quickly at Fran. She had gone grim the moment she heard I was going to die.

"Fran. You and I are mages, are we not?"

"...That's right."

"Then a Contract of Mana should be possible."

"...!"

Fran started. She had been plenty suspicious of me herself — but bringing up a Contract of Mana meant I was serious about following through. That, if anything, would get her arguing on my behalf. She knew what the contract meant. She would actually trust it.

"Besia, if he really makes the contract, you can believe him."

"Yeah?"

"A Contract of Mana can't be broken unless you die."

Fran must have genuinely wanted me not to die, because she produced the contract in an instant. A sheet of blue paper materialized in front of me, plastered with clause after clause designed to pin me down.

It was, in essence, a contract to imprison me here. Even Fran seemed to hesitate over that — but she must have decided it was the best they were going to get, because she signed. My signature followed hers onto the page.

"...This should be all right."

Fran nodded, looking more at ease than she had all evening. She placed enormous faith in the contract, and it showed. Besia managed something close to a smile.

"Thank you, Argal."

"...If I die because I went there, I suppose that would just be how it is."

The others, everyone except Fran and Besia, looked a little thrown by how this had gone — but the moment the possibility of my death entered the picture, they tacitly accepted the contract.

The Hero spoke.

"Asel appears to be unwell. It would be best if you remained here with her."

"I-I want to come too..."

"Sick people stay put! You think you can help anyone looking like that?"

Raeli shut the Spear Saint down, and Asel crumpled on the spot. What happened to that pigheaded stubbornness of hers...?

Fran. The Hero. Raeli. The Sword Saint. Besia. All of them moved without another word, setting out to stop the disaster bearing down on Antoni.

Fran and Besia both looked far steadier than they had before. The fear that I might die if I went with them had outweighed any concern about losing me as a fighting asset. With that possibility gone, they could finally breathe.

There was one thing Fran had overlooked, though.

I was a powerless man with not a single mote of mana in my body. Easy enough to forget, given how freely I wielded magic every time.

...I'm not a mage, Fran.

Which means the contract is void.