This World is Full of Lunatics (2)
There are a lot of crazies in this world.
This was an old truth that Evangeline Lamer, who had weathered countless storms with her own body, held dear.
What a diverse bunch of humans.
"You're just gonna leave us out here on this battlefield? That's basically murder!"
Back during the Demon War, when she'd helped out a unit in peril, it started with a noble commander throwing a fit, claiming that not taking them along was as good as killing them.
"Ha! So the saintess is actually a whore! How could you do this to us?!"
When she flat-out refused to provide support, some lunatic spat curses at her. And shockingly, that was about average for nobles.
That was when Evangeline truly felt how fucked up this world was. We didn't form the hero party for this shit, did we?
But situations like that didn't last long. The hero party had one absolute madman who surpassed the average by leaps and bounds.
"Fuck your mom."
"…? You bastard, what did you just—."
"Fuck. Your. Mom."
One of the five heroes: the Hero, the Crimson Knight, the Sage, the Great Saintess. And that guy whose name never even made the list.
"If it's that fucking bad, rip off your rank insignia and join the fight yourself. What the hell—."
"Hey, calm down, calm down."
The Nameless Saint.
She only learned this bastard's real name after the Dragon of the Apocalypse bit the dust.
"Daniel Dia Tristan."
"…?"
"My name. You were curious last time."
"You're fucking insane…."
Evangeline had one unshakable truth.
There was no one crazier in this world than Daniel.
"Yeah…… possible!"
"What the hell does that mean?!"
A guy who blurts out something like that upon seeing a 100-year-old dark elf, rattling off dozens of aliases like some mental patient—Evangeline was certain no one could refute her.
"Haa."
That guy never let pain, sorrow, or despair show on the outside.
Probably didn't want to ruin the mood. Back during the Demon War, everyone was on edge; maybe he thought he had to be the one to smile.
That's why Evangeline hated him.
"Hi! I'm Latina, a 7th circle mage. Yep, no family name, as you can see!"
"Hmm… We'll probably be together for a while, so we should get along, right? Evangeline."
"Why not? She's cute. I'm fine with it. Because of her tits? …Yeah, that too."
"Guess I can't help my nature. If I'd been born human, could we have been good friends?"
Close her eyes, and she appears: skin like white jade, sky-blue eyes, platinum hair shining brilliantly. A refreshingly vibrant smile.
"Sorry."
After that day, Daniel changed.
More like he stopped caring about his own body.
The truly shitty part was how he got stronger every time he walked that tightrope with his life on the line.
As he could handle more, he threw himself in harder. If you had to name the condition, savior addict. The incarnation of that infuriating utilitarianism: sacrifice one to save the many.
He fought on as if his own injuries didn't matter, and the more wounds he accumulated, the stronger he grew—a vicious fucking cycle. No wonder he saw people around him like plants. To him, humans, monsters, pets—they were all the same.
That's why Evangeline knew she couldn't stop Daniel herself. She had one option left.
"Hello?"
"Can you hear me, Sylvia?"
"Yeah, sis."
If she couldn't stop him, help someone who could.
Looking at his recent actions, he was still human… right? Make that a scumbag with a shred of conscience left.
"Whoa… Didn't think you'd actually call."
"Huh?"
"Talking to myself. So, what's up all of a sudden?"
"Nothing much, just."
She'd decided to fix that scumbag. He wouldn't listen to worries, so time for another approach.
"Huh? Did something happen with Oppa?"
"Not a huge deal. But knowing that guy's personality, he's bound to cause trouble."
With nosiness as vast as the ocean, how could he not stir something up?
This was beyond suspicion—pure faith. Evangeline, who had seen the bottom of his soul during the Demon War, could say it with certainty.
That's why she needed Sylvia's help.
"You were eating or hanging out, right?"
"…Huh? Can I?"
"It's not 'can'—it's 'must.' How about a date?"
That guy would hold back until he inevitably charged the front lines again, so he needed a leash. And Sylvia was the perfect fit.
…Pisses me off.
Evangeline clicked her tongue inwardly. Why the hell do I have to help that scumbag's love life? What's so great about him?
She couldn't understand why Sylvia liked him. The world was full of other guys.
"Hey, cliff bitch!"
…Tsk.
Do I have to consider his circumstances?
Evangeline made up her mind.
If Sylvia's feelings were an unchangeable truth no matter what, better to help boldly.
That guy couldn't wander forever because of his old flame.
"Oh yeah. If you two get married later, let me know. I'll officiate."
"For real?"
"Of course."
Sylvia was pretty and a good kid; Daniel would surely be happy if he knew.
If his conscience hadn't rotted away.
I let out a big sigh. I'd run into another headache.
Black mages again.
Delivering terrible news to others isn't easy. No news is good news for a reason.
In that sense, Gregor Dia Ludwig, the Marquis of Ludwig, was in a tragic spot.
Continental public enemy number one, the black mages, had punched him—twice in a row, no less.
How does one even think to hit the same spot twice?
Hitting the same place again is a no-no in manly fights. But our black mages didn't give a damn about gender.
So they dumped all their eggs in the Ludwig basket. What was he thinking, cramming all his top facilities into one territory?
Never considering crises—that mindset was enviable. I want to live brainless like that too.
Anyway, this gruesome fact needed to reach the lord of the marquisate, Gregor Dia Ludwig.
It's someone else's house, but realizing there's a cockroach colony inside leaves no choice. Not telling them makes you less than human—even elves and dwarves would warn about this.
So I contacted the Ludwig Marquis house. Using the communication orb number from last time.
This was for 'let's grab a meal sometime.'
Top promise that'll never happen: let's eat sometime.
Honestly, me dining alone with a marquis old enough to be my dad? Even the neighbor's dog Poppi and our Alexander know it's bullshit.
Neither I nor the marquis expected this private number to be used like this. First contact: 'Found black mages!' Who does that?
With a heavy heart, I messaged via the orb, and a tense middle-aged man's voice replied.
"Good to hear from you, Deputy Chief. Too soon to call it 'long time no see,' but… earlier than expected."
Hmm. As expected from the top 1% in character. He knew why I was calling.
Or rather, not knowing would be weirder. Fresh off black mage PTSD, and the Execution Bureau's deputy chief calls direct? Ninety percent chance he'd think, 'What did those black mages do now?!'
Anyone with a head on their shoulders would assume that.
So I fed him info roundabout.
"Good to hear you too, Marquis Ludwig. I didn't expect to call so soon myself, but isn't this divine providence?"
Sounds odd alone, but in noble-speak: Urgent shit came up. It's Holy Empire level—cool with that?
"I think so too. Our Ludwig Marquisate's history is tied to Lord Demetrien's grace, so not strange at all. Care to share the reason?"
Noble translation: I'll accept the Empire's will—just tell me what happened! I'm freaking out!
Noble-speak was a bitch. How does one tongue hide so much?
No helping it. This stuff usually goes via document, not orb.
Better warn ahead.
Holy knights and priests storming in armed to the teeth, if he was clueless? He'd seriously consider abandoning the territory—no joke.
That much force means demons or black mages on that scale.
To reassure him, I gave the bare bones quick.
"Lots were pleased with last time, so the Council wants a personal meeting—big gift incoming."
Council already ordered knights and priests; like last time, cooperate. More notice than request.
The marquis replied bitterly.
"Is that so? Quite the honor. The Ludwig Marquisate welcomes you."
Good it didn't escalate to Foreign Affairs. Rejection would've been a pain.
Laugh or cry?
Pitiful situation.
Ludwig Marquis picked twice by those assholes, and our Execution Bureau stuck going to the same spot twice.
We get paid, fine—but they were 100% victims.
"Thanks, Marquis Ludwig. We'll bring the big gift soon; see you then."
"Heh. First big gift in ages… Thanks, Deputy Chief."
Connection cut, his face screaming anything but joy.
Won't sleep tonight.
One more insomniac in Ludwig Marquisate. Meanwhile, black mages sleep like babies—weird world.
Justice crumbles; tragic indeed.
Bi-won. The desire every mage in the world harbors.
This applied to Helix Belladon, 9th circle mage, too.
"The Holy Empire's hounds have caught the scent."
"Tch."
God's hounds always threaten black mages' Bi-won. Ten years ago, they wiped out a human-made god with raw power—and history repeated.
Helix muttered, tongue clicking. Fucking priest bastards.
Hurry. Even unstable is fine—as long as it births on time, even those lunatics can't stop it.
Two paths to Bi-won.
One: Reach godhood yourself.
Most mages choose this. Build circles, manifest your inner world. Become a world's sole master—that's Bi-won.
The other?
Create a god embodying your Bi-won.
Project desire onto soul, vessel—birth a new god.
Stuff in more weapons. Vessel's still lacking!
"Yes!"
Dwarven weapons fused into one vessel.
Dozens of spears wove a spine. Heavy greatswords and double axes formed limbs. Chainmail became tendons, plate armor bones, shields and helms flesh.
All armaments merged—a new god's vessel born.
The god never vanished since humanity tilled soil.
"■■■■■■■!!"
The shell of the God of War manifested.
Whew. This was mental illness too. Who else prepares for contingencies like this but me?
"Just in case. Better safe."
Even tap a stone bridge before crossing—can't rule out annoying gods appearing. Up at night over this crap. Hate black mages.
I pulled out a grimoire I'd made with Great Aunt. Worthless mana-less tome with the one spell I could cast.
Catalyst's pricey as hell—gods aside, doesn't pay off. Can't burn a building's worth to catch one black mage.
So only for times like this. Pat pat. Dust off carefully; one line catches my eye.
Unique Magic - Contradiction
Time to draw the blade that beheaded a god during the Demon War.