Wise Assistant Life (5)
“Did you have a safe trip, Senior?”
“Yeah, I’m back…”
Senior had returned after nearly a full day—over 24 hours by the clock. She’d left Tianis Academy around lunchtime.
Senior’s appearance was a total mess. Without an umbrella, her clothes and hair were soaked from the rain, everything washed away in the downpour. But one thing hadn’t been rinsed off: the overwhelming stench of blood wafting from her entire body.
The acrid smell from Senior’s form assaulted my nose. I tried to ignore the bloody tang creeping in and spoke to her.
“Why didn’t you bring an umbrella? It’s pouring out there.”
“Just… came like this.”
With that curt reply, Senior stared at me blankly.
“Why didn’t you use one…?”
“Eh, just felt like getting wet. It’s been ages since it last rained.”
“Yeah, true.”
The first rain after winter gave way to spring. That’s what was falling now. For some reason, after Senior arrived, I didn’t feel like staying drenched anymore, so I threw up a mana barrier. Rain slid off the dome and down to the ground. Hating the wet feeling, I dried my clothes and hair with magic. Then I dried Senior’s too and said,
“Let me dry your hair. Turn around.”
“Okay.”
She turned at my words. I summoned a breeze from my fingertips and dried her thoroughly soaked hair. It took about 20 minutes. Among the people I knew, hers was the longest, so it was no quick task.
Seeing her hair fluff up nicely, I remarked,
“You’re still wearing that hairpin, huh?”
“You gave it to me.”
Ruina Senior said it like it was the most obvious thing. She hadn’t taken it off once since I gave it to her.
I fixed the hairpin, which had come loose while drying her hair.
“It’s secured tight now—no way it’ll fall out.”
“Thanks.”
“No big deal.”
I lowered my hands and watched the rain. Senior silently joined me, gazing up at the night sky. And just like that, we spent some time staring blankly together. It wasn’t awkward or anything.
But I couldn’t hold back and asked first,
“Senior, you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“I didn’t ask what was fine.”
“Just… fine. As long as you’re here…”
Ruina Senior grabbed my sleeve like before. Her hand clenched tight, trembling nonstop at first, but the shaking soon subsided. Seeing her so pitiful, I clicked my tongue inwardly and slowly spoke up.
“I told you before—if something tough comes up, I’d help.”
“Yeah.”
“Want me to?”
She shook her head.
“No need.”
“Really? You look pretty wrecked right now…”
“Watch your mouth, even as my disciple. Fine means fine.”
Ruina Senior blocked my mouth firmly, as if determined to keep me out of it.
“Got it. Anyway, wanna hit up a cafe in the capital with Rana next time?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool, we’ll go when she’s back.”
“Yeah. I’m heading out now.”
“Okay, take care.”
Ruina Senior hurried off. Looked like she didn’t want to chat more. Respecting her choice, I saw her off.
Watching her fade from view, I muttered under my breath,
“Fuck…”
Her composed expression, like nothing was wrong the whole time here, lingered in my mind. I tried to shake it, but it wouldn’t leave.
Of all things, she had to be the villain…
A villain’s fate was like an inescapable curse—it always came true. Especially for mid-bosses, who drove the story’s core. Not like some extra villain like Kyle Arden; it was fundamentally different.
No matter what I did, she couldn’t dodge death. That was Ruina Lindel’s ending.
Sure, it might sound like an excuse. It clashed with everything I’d done so far. Knowing her pain and not fixing it seemed off.
But even I couldn’t change this. Remove the cause? Unless I twisted fate itself, Ruina Senior’s conclusion stayed the same.
This wasn’t guesswork—it was certainty from experience. I’d seen too many fail to escape a villain’s doom, no matter their struggles.
But I could ease the suffering along the way.
Like what I always do for Senior.
“It’s me. Get ready.”
I slipped out of Tianis right after and headed for the capital.
“Here?”
“Yes. Activity’s been ramping up around this spot lately.”
The place Bellum and his men brought me to was somewhere in the capital’s sewers. I knew Ruina Senior was operating in the capital, but not the exact spot. So I borrowed a bit of his power.
His forces had weakened from Monster Season clashes with rivals, but they still dominated the capital’s underbelly. They knew most of what went down in the shadows.
I eyed the entrance ahead. Beyond the illusion cloaking it, a faint black magic reek drifted out. Potent stuff.
“Well hidden. Anyone approach recently?”
“Not that we’ve spotted. Probably other entrances—haven’t seen anyone near here lately.”
Made sense for a critical op; they’d be thorough. Traps everywhere if you bypassed this. Not that it mattered to me.
Boom!
I slammed the ground, unleashing magic. A magic circle bloomed underfoot, surging forward to shatter the black magic.
The path yawned open. Not much visible near the entrance yet, but black magic’s sinister aura poured through the tunnel.
Then Bellum asked,
“What’s the plan?”
I cast another spell, spreading it around us. Confirming it hit everyone, I said,
“Wipe ’em out.”
Wind whipped behind me as black shadows charged—Bellum’s men. Once they’d all entered, Bellum bowed and followed.
I sealed the entrance with magic, then stepped in.
“That way! They’re fleeing over there!”
“After ’em!”
Bellum’s men bellowed and pursued the black mages on sight.
The black mages couldn’t process it.
“Why now, of all times…!”
“No warning at all!”
Obvious. I’d smashed their wards, robbing prep time. No greater threat mid-op.
And their panic didn’t end there.
“Their black magic’s not working on these guys!”
“Summon anything—block ’em!”
I’d buffed Bellum’s crew immune to black magic. Unless they summoned undead for physical attacks, they were helpless.
“Looks like we’ll sweep ’em clean, smooth.”
Bellum murmured beside me. I glanced at him.
“Yeah, easy win. So what’re you doing?”
“…Pardon?”
“Help out. Gonna stand there while your men do all the work?”
“…Sorry.”
Only then did he dive into the fray. I watched.
Bellum fought well—massacring black mages. First, this space brimmed with black magic aura, supercharging undead. Plus, he’d leveled up from last year’s Expert Peak to Master.
With him joining, things wrapped faster.
“Gaaah…!”
“M-mercy…!”
Screams echoed everywhere. I strolled forward, unfazed. Death was nothing compared to Ruina Senior’s pain.
Deeper in, the sewers changed. Sticky air clung. Flesh tendrils snaked across the floor. Eye-watering stench.
Gruesome shit I didn’t wanna see. I grimaced but pressed on.
Then a familiar sight: an altar. What black mages used for summons.
But not just that. Around it floated massive globs of blood and flesh—human sacrifices, obviously. How many died for that?
And what was Ruina Senior feeling, making it herself?
Drawing my sword from my waist, I thought of it. The black blade gleamed faintly.
“Fucking villains always gotta be dramatic.”
That gloomy black mage vibe never changed. Sure, exceptions, but 99%.
Gripping my sword, I eyed the horror forming on the altar. The blood orb pulsed like a fetal heartbeat.
I didn’t know Akacheonma’s every detail—what’d hatch from it? But my gut screamed bad news.
I coated Karsa in sword aura. Body not there yet, but straddling the line let me manage a bit. Then slammed magic into the blade.
Experience said normal force wouldn’t cut it. Good thing Bellum’s crew kept the mages busy—plenty of time.
Even so, no dragging this out. Sword ready, I swung down in rage.
But then—
Whoosh!
Flesh chunks surged, blocking the blade. Someone emerged behind them.