You've Changed, Takarion.
Monk Isilla met privately with Takarion in her room. Compared to before his trip to the north, Takarion was unrecognizable—both in body and spirit. After enduring so much hardship for so long, his belly fat had melted away, and his cheeks had hollowed out. Yet his eyes shone with vibrant inner strength, clear and fierce.
"A lot has happened."
Takarion paused, reminiscing about the past. Being kidnapped by northerners and dragged across the barbaric wilds. Giving up all hope in despair, only to meet Ian. Drawing courage from Ian's encouragement, only to crumble again in the face of his own pathetic skills. And yet, refusing to quit, pushing himself to try anything and everything...
"In this vast world, I've realized just how insignificant I am."
"You've grasped a very important truth."
Isilla nodded. In this boundless world, a single human was utterly insignificant. No matter how great you thought you were, someone even greater would appear somewhere. Even if you fancied yourself the best in the world, you couldn't defy the flow of nature. Always stay humble. Takarion had once been an arrogant young man who knew nothing of humility, but now he was undeniably different.
"...It's embarrassing to admit, but I wanted to become a noble."
It wasn't an entirely unrealistic dream. Nobles were those granted lands by the emperor. Even a lowly monk like Takarion could earn a title if he made a name for himself as an adult. He had wanted to compensate for the insecurities of his youth through success. If he became a noble and lived lavishly, no one could look down on him.
But his experiences in the north had given Takarion enlightenment.
"I'm not the kind of person who has that ability."
"Hmm... Are you serious?"
Takarion nodded. He knew one utterly incompetent person and one truly capable one: himself and Ian.
"I don't have what it takes to lead people. Wanting to be a noble, or someone worthy of respect... it was all just pathetic delusions."
Delusions. Takarion's greatest talent, the one thing he was truly confident in. If only the world resolved itself as neatly and refreshingly as one of his delusions—but sadly, reality wasn't so kind. Takarion had truly awakened to that fact. The ones who changed the world were people like Ian: those with exceptional talent who overcame adversity and seized what they wanted.
'He's been through a lot mentally.'
Isilla quietly observed Takarion. His words made him sound like someone who had lost all interest in the world, a pitiful soul broken by defeat. But Isilla knew better. Those eyes of his could never belong to a man whose spirit was crushed.
"So, what do you plan to do from now on?"
Takarion spoke slowly. "I don't have the talent to step out in front of crowds. No great abilities, no way to offer massive help."
"But..."
"I do have one talent: remembering someone's exploits and writing them down."
Takarion had realized it clearly. He could never be a hero. The path of a hero wasn't for him. Instead, he chose the path of a writer.
"...I'll write a biography."
"A biography?"
Biography writers were those paid to chronicle the lives of specific individuals. It was usually a job for court scholars commissioned by nobles... But Takarion was declaring he'd write one voluntarily, without any commission!
Isilla understood the implication immediately.
"Don't tell me... Mage Ian's?"
Takarion answered with a small smile. Having witnessed Ian's feats in the north, he had made one firm vow: to turn Ian's story into a book so more people could read it!
"But he's too young, isn't he? He's an incredible mage, sure, but it's not the time for a full biography."
Isilla said worriedly. A biography was, by definition, a complete record of one's life. Even someone shining brightly in their youth could fall into ruin with age. Writing a biography meant recording that downfall too.
"I believe in Ian."
Takarion said firmly. "He's not the type to crash and burn midway. He'll become someone truly great, his name echoing across the continent. I just want to lend my strength to that journey."
Takarion had already made up his mind. He would compile Ian's travel tales into a book and publish it. And its ending would be historic.
Isilla blessed such a Takarion. "Yes... You have a gift for writing. It's the talent heaven bestowed on you. You should pursue it to the fullest extent of your abilities."
"Thank you."
And so Takarion decided to write Ian's biography...
"Wait!!!"
...But someone crashed the plan. The monastery abbot, Lenaas.
"Takarion! If you write that mage's biography now, what about all the devotees waiting for your next installment?!"
Takarion snorted at Lenaas's words. "Those fake gospels aren't worth writing anymore."
"F-Fake?! Are you calling the Gospel of Saint Marcus fake?!"
"Yes. Fake. A lump of delusions and guesses."
Takarion spat out the facts bluntly.
Is the Gospel of Saint Marcus full of lies? — Yes.
Is it not worth reading? — Yes.
There wasn't just one version of the Gospel of Saint Marcus that Takarion had written. He had referenced previous ones. Otherwise, how could he know about a man from the Golden Empire era? Gospels were like wuxia novels anyway: the setting and backstory were preset, and you just slotted in what you wanted to say. Readers accepted sects like the Northern Peng Clan or Jeon Gal Family popping up everywhere without batting an eye—it worked the same way.
Lenaas knew it too. Takarion's gospels had some exaggerated parts. But... if he stopped writing them, what would fill the Blue Key Monastery's signature product slot?! Takarion had single-handedly raised the monastery's fame. Sure, he'd suffered in the north, but in other cities, he was a superstar worshipped as "Great Takarion."
"Without you, the monastery goes under!"
Lenaas was dead serious. Takarion was not.
"Then I guess I'll transfer to another monastery."
"No!!!"
There were plenty of monasteries. Surely one would take Takarion.
"Isilla! Say something!"
"It's wonderful to see him walking his own path."
"Isilla!!!"
Takarion bowed politely, Isilla chuckled heartily, and Lenaas tore at his thinning hair.
'Ian! I need Ian's help!'
Lenaas rushed off to find Ian.
Ian had gone looking for Gerard, but he'd vanished again. Ian had hoped to ask about the gods, but oh well—gone was gone.
Ian set his next destination as the territory of Baron Vincent. Honestly, he had no obligation to help Professor Ingrian. But Ian and Ingrian were both mages. There was camaraderie among mages. Put another way: if trouble hit Ian, other mages would come running. Building rapport through quests like this greased the wheels for calling in favors later.
Ian finished his travel prep at the monastery. Supplies were a bit short, but he could resupply from any noble along the way. Ian was already thinking of nobles as "sponsors." Proof he was developing a proper mage mindset.
"Everyone rested up?"
Belenca and Kira were ready too. Ian's group set off toward the empire's southwest...
"Wait!!!"
"What is it, Abbot?"
...Only for Lenaas to grab Ian.
"Takarion... meet with Takarion before you go!"
"Was planning to."
Ian nodded easily. He'd intended to say goodbyes before leaving, and Takarion was on the list.
"Persuade him to write the sequel!"
"Sequel?"
Lenaas explained through sniffles. The old man's whimpering was pathetic, but Ian shrugged it off and went to Takarion. Old dudes were delicate like high school girls anyway.
"Takarion!"
"Ahh! Shala! Ian! Brother of my soul!"
Takarion threw his arms wide at the sight of Ian. Well-rested in the monastery, his complexion had returned to normal.
"Heard from Lenaas. No more gospels?"
"Yeah. Gospels... I can't write them anymore."
Ian was shocked. Wait, what? Why quit that super-fun light novel?
"Because... I want to write your biography, Ian!"
"Wait, what..."
"Let me write your biography!"
Ian coldly shoved off the clinging Takarion. Not quite a bear hug, but a burly guy lunging was still creepy.
'...I wanted to read it. The gospel sequel.'
Ian was genuinely disappointed. What was Takarion's gospel? In this dopamine-starved, gritty medieval hell, the one book that fully immersed him!
Lenaas wanted it for crass commercial reasons, but Ian had slightly nobler motives.
"Even if I want to read it... you won't write it?"
Takarion's face changed at Ian's words.
"You want to read it? You, Ian? My gospel?"
"Yeah."
Ian said boldly, and Takarion was awestruck for a moment. He'd always sensed it, but Ian... what deep faith! No wonder the sky god answered his prayers so readily.
That realization made Takarion even more ashamed. What had he made such a devout follower read...?
"Write the gospel sequel, and I'll let you do my biography."
"...For real?"
Ian begging like that broke Takarion's stubbornness. Fine. The biography mattered, but Ian wanted the gospel!
"Deal. Gospel first."
Takarion decided to treat this gospel as practice for honing his skills—gospel for warmup, then Ian's bio!
"Wooo!!!"
Lenaas shrieked in joy beside them, face flushing. At least he knew it was embarrassing...
"Once the gospel's done, Ian, I wanna collect some of your stories."
"Gonna follow me around?"
Takarion shook his head. "Nah. I still vividly remember getting buried in that avalanche on the sacred mountain. A guy like me would just be dead weight."
Ian crossed his arms, pondering. Best to meet up again for chats, but he was a wanderer now—when would he return?
"Ah."
Then an idea hit.
"How about staying in Talian domain?"
"Talian domain?"
Takarion tilted his head.
"A friend's the lord there. You could hang out, and we'd chat leisurely later."
Not a bad plan. Clerics often wandered as honored guests anyway, and Lucy in Talian would treat him well.
"Hm!"
Takarion nodded. "Sounds good! Right after finishing, I'll head to Talian!"
"Yeah, Takarion. See you there."
With the sequel promised, Ian hit the road. Next stop: Baron Vincent's domain, where Ingrian was imprisoned.