Chapter 56
Chapter 56
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Mage and Priest (4)
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Title: Sorry, but my karma is 361?
Body feather cut is straight-up ridiculous
Trying to start the Saintess fate quest, but it says I need to pass the body feather cut first, so I've been grinding fate quests that give a ton of karma
Fuck, when the hell does this thing break through?
The purity feather was gradually fading.
Barrodos's black eyes wavered.
'This is... a body feather?'
The purity feather that Gerhen had insisted was a tail feather.
It was actually a body feather processed to look like a tail feather.
Having seen through the vile intent embedded in the item, Barrodos first looked toward Rishir.
Through her sacred eye that pierces the essence of the target.
It was no different from the first time she saw him.
He was still a mysterious man whose essence even her sacred eye could not discern.
The sacred eye conveyed only a single fragmentary piece of information to its owner.
That he was a being who could never be connected to evil.
Something inexpressible in words seemed to imprint his innate goodness onto Barrodos's very existence.
The sacred eye defining the opponent's existence itself. It was a first for her.
No matter how clear the information, it usually only provided grounds for judgment.
Thus, Barrodos had already recognized his extraordinary nature.
...But she hadn't expected it to be to this extent.
'The body feather hasn't faded in the slightest.'
Barrodos reflected on the days she had spent devoted to the church.
It was a long span that young people would find distant, a vast experience, countless good deeds.
Her virtuous accomplishments had reached a level that an ordinary priest would need several lifetimes to attain.
Yet this man named Rishir had already amassed virtuous deeds surpassing hers at such a young age.
How on earth?
Had he saved a city from destruction?
Had he slain some great evil threatening the world?
Whatever it was, it sounded like an absurd tale.
Amidst this, the members of Rishir's party caught the High Priestess's eye.
'My goodness.'
Taking in the girl in pure white, the High Priestess could not hold back her astonishment.
How should she accept the existence of her, and of Rishir who stood with her.
The High Priestess's questions about the young wandering mage only multiplied.
"High Priestess?"
Barrodos snapped out of it at the sound of Rishir's voice.
She had unwittingly been lost in thought, but now was not the time.
Barrodos returned the purity feather to Rishir and addressed the crowd.
"It's definitely a purity feather."
There was no need to highlight Rishir's uniqueness or expose Gerhen's vile scheme.
"The tail feather didn't react at all..."
"Isn't that something only church priests can do?"
"Precisely, only formal priests. It's one of the conditions for promotion to formal priest."
Rishir's purity feather, which had maintained its purity.
"The tail feather burned away...?"
"Unbelievable. What the hell has he been up to?"
"Even for a wing feather, but a tail feather for criminals just turns black at most?"
Gerhen's purity feather, which had lost its purity.
This stark contrast had completely deceived the onlookers.
It misled their perception of essence and forced them to defend one side and condemn the other.
Exactly as Gerhen's vile plan intended.
"No..."
Gerhen muttered in dismay.
Frustrated, he wanted to shout.
You idiots!
I'm not an idiot—why would I throw away my own dignity to highlight someone else's specialness!
Think about it!
This situation! Doesn't it look suspicious to anyone!
But the moment he opened his mouth, 'idiot' would refer to himself.
—Wasn't this your doing? Why are you bitching at us?
That reaction was inevitable.
"Master Gerhen."
Rishir spoke to such a Gerhen.
"Are you satisfied now?"
Rishir spoke with full decorum.
But that smug smile.
As if he could hear that voice.
Ugh.
What an infuriating bastard.
Just leave already.
Crunch.
Gerhen finally lost his reason to anger. He began spewing the words swirling in his head as they were.
"Respected scholars! Hear me! I know nothing of this! This purity feather was procured by my assistant, Koran!"
"...!"
A diminutive man standing in a corner of the noble faction widened his eyes.
Koran, the apprentice mage and Gerhen's assistant.
He was a commoner mage who had entered the mage tower thanks to Gerhen's strong recommendation.
—You must never forget, even for a moment, how much my will influences your continued stay in this mage tower. That grace.
—Do not forget your place.
Gerhen had reminded Koran of this frequently, successfully subjugating him mentally.
In fact, even now, when pointed out by Gerhen, Koran shrank like a frog facing a snake. His lowered head and hunched back trembled faintly.
"Koran! Explain this matter at once!"
To bear Master Gerhen's shame here.
To defy Master Gerhen's will here.
Weighing those two options desperately, Koran's heart surprisingly tilted toward the former.
For a powerless commoner mage, nothing was more terrifying than the displeasure of a master leading the noble faction.
All the more so, since in this mage tower and city, no one would take his side over Gerhen's.
Koran recalled all those unjust moments when others had turned their backs on him.
Just as Koran was about to accept his situation.
"There was no problem with the purity feather. Right?"
Rishir said, looking at Koran.
"Y-Yes!?"
Startled, Koran's body jerked back.
'Is he talking to me?'
He whipped his head around, gauging the reactions around him.
Then, things he hadn't noticed before came into view.
There were no more people turning their backs on him to avoid offending Gerhen.
The mage tower scholars were looking at him with sympathetic eyes.
Gerhen's shadow no longer loomed large enough to completely engulf his world.
Numerous scholars were siding not with Master Gerhen of the noble faction, but with the bastard wanderer mage Rishir.
Koran threw himself into that atmosphere willingly.
He looked up at Gerhen with difficulty and said.
"I... I know nothing of this..."
It was only natural.
Gerhen wouldn't entrust a plan tied to his reputation to a mere assistant.
"B-But there is one thing I do know..."
That day too, Koran had stayed up all night handling the mountain of errands Gerhen had dumped on him.
On his way to the courtyard for a walk to awaken his fatigue-numbed mind, he spotted Gerhen heading somewhere secretly.
"Master Gerhen... For you to head in that direction at that hour, there are only two reasons... The research storage or the underground labyrinth... If it were the research storage, you would have ordered me as usual, so why on that day alone did you go yourself... And at such a late hour when no eyes could reach you..."
Koran's words threw a topic to the scholars.
The sudden confession from the black mage informant accusing Rishir.
If anyone benefited from that, who would it be?
"Master Gerhen."
This time, the inquisitor's eyes gleamed.
Demanding perjury from a black mage to slander an innocent for personal preservation.
A clear target for correction.
"I'd like to hear the details."
"Y-You have no authority for that!"
Then Meltas immediately raised his hand as if waiting.
"I, Master Meltas, wish to poll your opinions before formally requesting cooperation from the church on matters related to black mages."
"I agree."
Didoa followed suit, and soon the mages present began raising their hands one by one.
"I agree."
"...Perrin, do you even know what this is about?"
"No idea. Didoa agrees, so whatever."
In the end, all mages except Gerhen raised their hands in agreement with Meltas.
Even the noble faction that followed Gerhen was no exception.
"How dare you..."
Gerhen glared at them briefly, seething with stinging betrayal.
"..."
Ultimately, all his hatred turned toward one person: Rishir.
The moment his grudge was about to take form and act.
"Don't do anything foolish, Gerhen."
At that chilling voice, Gerhen regained his senses and looked around.
"..."
For a moment, Gerhen forgot the situation entirely and felt pure bewilderment.
To him, the mage tower was a closed group symbolizing the uniqueness and authority of certain mages.
Yet now.
The mages of the tower were showing hostility toward Master Gerhen.
For the sake of one lowly-born outsider.
Gerhen bowed his head, feeling an inexplicable sense of defeat.
"Hoo."
This shit... it takes an insane amount of stamina and drive.
Gerhen, exhausted from all the shit, finally gave up everything and bowed his head.
A deep sigh escaped the moment I saw it.
I'd come to check my condition and got dragged into this hassle.
Sir Meltas chuckled wryly beside me.
"Sorry for dragging you into this mess, Rishir. Not sure if it's any consolation, but this should resolve all matters related to you swiftly."
"Ugh. Consolation. Yeah, sure. Suddenly feeling energy surging through my body—"
Is this what they mean by words becoming seed?
The moment I said it, energy really started surging through my body.
No.
Wait.
This isn't energy, it's—
"This guy's at it again."
"My goodness, Rishir. Moderate your mana growth a bit. You increase it at the most random times."
"No, you guys, don't blame me for—"
My mana surged out of nowhere again.
It had gone from familiar to downright annoying.
The three of us exchanged empty jokes casually.
"Cough!"
Until I remembered I was in overload right now.
"..."
"..."
The two stared at me wide-eyed.
"Damn it— cough! Hack!"
The back of my hand clamped over my mouth was instantly soaked in blood.
A few suspicious clumps stuck to it too—please let them be phlegm-like globs.
I couldn't hide my panic.
Wasn't mana increase supposed to follow normalization?
But I hadn't used normalization's power even once today?
"Hah— hah—"
My eyes ached like they might pop out; I clamped my eyelids shut tight.
Then I felt lukewarm liquid trickling from my closed eyes.
Please. Tears?
Call it tears.
"Kyaaah! Rishir!!!"
Damn, not tears.
My legs gave out, and I pitched forward.
Tap tap.
Something four-legged approached quickly, and a warm sensation touched my face.
Felt like Perrin was licking my face.
Surprisingly, vitality spread from the licked spots.
But it wasn't enough to improve my current state.
"H-High Priestess! Help—"
"Please help him!"
I felt my fur standing on end.
The feeling of my body entering a state beyond my control.
"Cough— cough—"
Breathing grew harder by the second.
It hurt.
Never imagined feeling pain like this in my life.
The more I forced breaths, the sharper the pain became.
"Hahh...! Hahh...!"
Yet I focused even more on breathing.
I didn't know why, but it felt like I had to.
Instinctual struggle.
Then, at some point, I realized.
The mana trying to squeeze out of my narrow body.
That it was reacting to my breathing.
An unfamiliar sensation.
Because magic was the art of handling mana through the mind.
Mana reacting to the body.
This was clearly beyond mana's domain.
Then what was it?
'Blue Breathing...'
What came to mind was a memory from my bastard days.
The foundation of martial arts, contrasting magical meditation.
The knights' art that the bastard desperately wanted but never obtained.
I was handling it instinctively.
The mana, overflowing and trying to shatter its shell, was gradually fusing with my body.
"High Priestess, hurry...!"
Fienne pleaded desperately with Barrodos, her face tear-streaked.
By then, Barrodos had already approached Rishir and prepared to unleash her divine power.
"W-Wait a moment—"
Then, Rishir himself stopped Barrodos.
Hah.
Hah.
He caught his ragged breath and continued with effort.
"Just a bit... just wait a little..."
"Rishir!? What are you saying!!!"
"Just a little... just..."
Muttering, Rishir seemed lost in thought somewhere.
Barrodos overlaid past patients' images onto him.
Perhaps he was delirious now.
She couldn't leave the decision to him.
Barrodos moved to force the healing.
"..."
But sudden bewilderment crossed her face.
Her gaze turned to Rishir's chest.
Ragged but rhythmic heaving.
Breathing matched to that heaving—
And his mana moved with that breathing.
Barrodos overlaid other past patients onto him.
Superhumans who controlled their bodies and wounds through breathing.
"Blue Breathing...?"
The High Priestess rarely lost her composure.
A mage was wielding the arts of warriors out of nowhere.
"Rishir?"
Next, Fienne, Meltas, Perrin—Rishir's companions noticed the anomaly.
They began observing his state as if entranced.
Then other mages gradually noticed the bizarre phenomenon(?) occurring in Rishir's body and approached.
Meanwhile, Rishir's breathing stabilized moment by moment.
Through breathing, not imagery.
Not just keeping mana in the body, but fusing it with the body.
This delayed the collapse of a body unable to handle the mana.
The vitality drain causing weakness was replenished by newly generated vitality.
One of the surrounding mages muttered.
"No way... is he acquiring mana breathing in real time...?"
No one reacted as if they heard, but inwardly everyone repeated the words.
In the eerie silence, only Rishir's rhythmic breathing flowed.
"Cough—"
Rishir ended the silence.
No more.
Judging that, he left one final ragged breath and lost consciousness.
"Now! Save him!"
The strangest plea for help they'd ever heard.
The High Priestess, flustered yet immediate, began healing.
Meanwhile.
Someone else muttered.
"But... wasn't he just entering 4th circle early? Tulran's report definitely said so..."
No one reacted as if they heard, but inwardly everyone repeated the words.
How much time had passed since the incident that turned the mage tower upside down?
Rishir awoke in an unfamiliar bed.
He nodded solemnly.
"Some angel... I suppose... Did I end up dying...?"
He said it looking at Fienne, who sat beside him watching.
Hah.
Fienne let out a sigh-mixed chuckle, as if she couldn't live anymore.
"Worth all of Roera and the High Priestess's efforts. Waking up and spouting nonsense right away."
"Roera and High Priestess...?"
"Yes. While you were out, those two 'priestesses' worked tirelessly. Make sure to thank them properly when you see them."
Now.
Fienne clapped to liven the mood.
"To celebrate your awakening, I have good news and bad news for you. Which first?"
"First, can I know how long I was out?"
"About half a month."
"...Worse than that?"
"Your mage tower supporter qualification is still on hold."
"Did I wake too soon? Should I lie down another century?"
"Go ahead."
"...Good news?"
"The reason it's on hold."
"What?"
"The mage tower wants you to become an honorary mage, not just a supporter."
"...Suddenly?"
Fienne looked into the distance and chuckled.
"Our sleeping princess. You have no idea what happened while you were snoozing."