Aftermath Cleanup
Sacred arts, or holy magic as it was called—the power of the Goddess—was typically bestowed through blessings. Those who earned the qualifications of a priest through ascetic trials received baptism and awakened their holy power, at which point they could finally wield the anti-demonic forces that repelled impurities and healed the wounded.
However, there were rare cases where holy power was innate, without such trials or blessings. The quintessential examples were saints and heroes, said to be sent directly by the gods in times of chaos. Beyond them, a slim few were born with divinity even without being saints or heroes. Temples called these lay clerics—those who had not taken holy orders.
And Cloi von Valentia was the strongest cleric Tiny knew.
The Sword Emperor had kept it a strict secret, fearing his precious daughter might be pressured to join a temple. Her power, still unknown to the outside world, was truly astonishing.
'I thought she was still weak...'
Of course, she was far from her previous life's pinnacle, but she had exceeded Tiny's expectations by leaps and bounds.
Shwaaaaa.
A beam of sacred light erased the 5th-circle black mage's spell in an instant. No matter how amplified by self-sacrifice, magic had its limits. Already critically wounded before the battle even began, and pushed to the brink, the black mage's spell couldn't overcome the holy power of a young cleric whose abilities hadn't fully blossomed.
"The lady...?"
"...How?"
The scene was so sudden and holy that everyone stared in awe. The young spirit mage, recovering first, shouted at the top of his lungs.
"Vivian, finish it!"
Her tone was commanding, but now wasn't the time for etiquette. The red-haired knight reacted instantly, charging at Irina like lightning.
"N-No, impossible!!!"
The black mage's final gambit, unleashed at the cost of one arm, was rendered powerless in vain. Overwhelmed by shock, Irina trembled like a leaf, her eyes bloodshot. Having exhausted every trick, she belatedly noticed the knight bearing down on her—but the self-sacrifice had damaged even her soul.
She could no longer maintain even flight magic, the backlash was so severe.
Shooo.
As Irina began her slow descent, a blue mana blade shot toward her. At that moment—
"Vivian, don't kill her!"
The clear voice rang out late, and the blue sword aura veered slightly from her throat, piercing her abdomen instead.
Puuuuk.
She'd swerved to avoid killing, but a gut wound was still fatal.
"Guh... guk."
Thud.
The elf crashed limply, convulsing with eyes rolled back. Crimson blood pooled thickly beside her. Even without close inspection, it was a gruesome sight—she was beyond saving.
Tiny grimaced unconsciously. A sigh came from beside him.
"Ah, damn it! We needed to interrogate her!"
When had she approached? Looking up at the warm light soothing his body and mind, he saw Cloi stamping her feet in frustration.
His fairly serious injuries seemed to heal in an instant. A faint smile tugged at Tiny's lips.
"Thank you, my lady."
"That elf... I can't heal her with my holy power... Ah, no, probably not."
"...If you'd like to confirm the kill, I recommend it."
Dumping holy power on a black mage? She had a sadistic streak.
"With natural healing..."
"A wound like that would kill an orc. An elf? No chance."
Cloi shot Tiny a pouty glare. She knew elves' weaknesses too. Unlike orcs, with the strongest vitality among sub-races, elves had sluggish metabolisms and abysmal recovery.
"Ha, no helping it..."
"By the way, did you know?"
"...Pardon? Know what?"
"You were the only one who didn't freak out. Even when I used holy arts."
"Ah..."
Only then did Tiny realize his slip. Everyone else gawked at the lady wielding holy arts, but he'd acted nonchalant. No wonder it looked odd.
He racked his brain for an excuse in that brief moment. But facing Cloi's unwavering blue gaze, he just chuckled.
Those trusting eyes would believe anything he said.
'How long has it been since she trusted me like this...'
Such faith made any pretense vanish. How could he live boldly while deceiving someone who believed in him so purely?
In the end, Tiny nodded with a bitter smile.
"Yes, I knew."
"How? It was a family secret."
Her tone held no accusation—just pure curiosity. He couldn't lie to someone like her.
"...I can't explain right now. But someday, I'll tell you everything."
"Okay. Got it."
She accepted his vague answer so casually. Perhaps that's why.
"And... that black mage was after me. She's the one I suspected as the backer of Philes territory's lord."
Tiny blurted out more than necessary. Even so.
"Yeah?"
Cloi just nodded once more.
"...That's it?"
"What else?"
"Don't you think your group got endangered because of me...?"
"No one died, and we won."
"Uh... still..."
"Even if there had been sacrifices, slaying demon worshippers is a noble's duty. Even if I'd died here, it'd be my weakness—not your fault."
Her eyes, assuming her own sacrifice, were utterly steadfast. Maybe she could say it because she was young and naive. But maintaining that pure, resolute heart for twenty more years, proving it with actions—that was Cloi von Valentia's greatness.
He couldn't help but admire her anew, knowing it all.
'I figured as much.'
His benefactor, who always shone in his previous life, already held that light at such a young age. Gratitude and pride welled up, bringing a natural smile.
But.
"Were you worried about that? Finally acting your age! Aigoo, is that it, kiddo?"
"Eek!"
The rough head-ruffle, treating him like a child, sent chills down his spine.
* * *
The battlefield was a mess, but cleanup and reorganization went smoothly. Plenty injured, but only one dead—and she was the enemy who'd caused it all.
Still, Cloi's holy power during treatment stirred some buzz.
The duke's knights humbly accepted her touch. But.
"Then the duke already knew."
"Lady Vivian too..."
Was their lady's secret more shocking than a high black mage? Cloi sighed softly at the knights' sidelong glances.
"Black mage dead, my secret out. Feels like I lost big. What if the temple nags me to get ordained now?"
Vivian teasingly drew her sword halfway.
"If you hate it, should I off all the witnesses?"
"...Vivian, don't joke. It sounds serious and scary."
"Why always me...! Fine, got it."
"Hey, don't sulk."
As the lady and her guard bickered playfully, easing battle tension—
"A kid who looks about ten already has power beyond ours."
"Her aura felt like just 2nd stage... how'd she fight like that?"
"And she spotted the elf black mage first, right?"
"Really?"
The black-haired boy, drawing all knights' and attendants' stares, was lost in thought, ignoring them.
'A 5th-circle black mage moving inside the empire at this point is blatantly off.'
Philes' lord had surprised him, but a 5th-circle follow-up was shocking. If they were the same group, how long had they operated in the shadows?
'The demon worshippers' uprising happened when I got Nocturne from the Great Labyrinth. About 18 years from now.'
If a 5th-circle could hide their power, the organization's reach was unimaginable. And they only stirred in 18 years?
'What have they been up to all this time?'
Thoughts spiraled, but no answers came. He hadn't known even in his previous life—too little info for deduction.
"Sigh..."
As Tiny sighed over the dead end, the bickering duo approached, hands outstretched.
"...What?"
"Summon Wolrang again."
"Ah..."
- Grrr, whine!
His soul-linked friend protested from beyond, but Tiny couldn't ignore their expectant gazes.
Shling.
"Kyeng!?"
Wolrang reappeared, glaring at Tiny for the involuntary summon. Then a pale hand scooped him up like a bullet.
"Kiiing!"
"Wol, you did great earlier. Big sis praises you."
I'm... a male...
Watching Cloi nuzzle Wolrang's fur, Tiny sighed again.
"Wolrang's true form is a house-sized moonwolf. You saw it in battle..."
"It's fine. This form's cute."
So how's the real form cute if you know it?
Absurdity left him speechless. Glancing at Wolrang still glaring—
'He is kinda cute.'
The thought drew a hollow chuckle. The platinum blonde hugging Wolrang tightly asked abruptly.
"So, how'd you spot it?"
"...Pardon?"
"The elf's true nature. Even I, a cleric, sensed no demonic aura till you attacked. How'd you know right away?"
The question popped mid-Wolrang play. Tiny flinched involuntarily, then smirked.
Her knack for hitting the core casually started here.
"...Wolrang's ability. He can smell souls."
"Oh? This cutie has that power!?"
'...Ugh.'
Obviously about Wolrang, but her blue eyes flicking between them felt aimed at him.
...Am I paranoid?
Regression side effect, maybe. A thirty-something soul in a girl's body called "cute" raised goosebumps just imagining.
As Tiny rubbed his arms, Vivian—enviously eyeing Cloi and a blissed-out Wolrang—asked.
"Hate being called cute?"
"...Not thrilled."
"Figures. Kids are kids."
Grind.
"...What?"
His teeth ground, mangling the word.
"Heh, boys your age usually hate it. You've got normal sides, kid."
Vivian's sudden cheek-pull was too fast.
"I'm not that sort... guh."
Words piled up, but useless ones.
"Stob, strong...! H-Hand!"
Flailing free only made her giggle more. Resistance would just fuel her playfulness.
'Sigh.'
Embodying Wolrang's plight, he went limp, cheeks in her grasp.
The rest of the journey would tax his sanity.
'Fortunately, just two more days.'
Until meeting the Sword Emperor, Eschard von Valentia. His reaction could upend plans...
But right now, Tiny desperately wanted to see him.