Chapter 8
Chapter 8
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: Return-7
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"Why do I have to do this?"
Those who could wield magic were all chosen ones.
Being chosen didn't just mean having the ability to use magic.
Even a commoner with magical talent, if they didn't hone it from childhood, could only manage something like conjuring a small fireball in their hand.
Only nobles—or at least those in the upper echelons, like a noble's attendants, within reach of high society's gaze—could become mages by devoting themselves entirely to study and research without manual labor.
But those who mastered magic in that way enjoyed authority beyond the imagination of others.
The strategic value of those who could wield military magic was immense, and their political value even greater.
Poisonings by magic were undetectable without magic itself, and the value of curses or blessings was equally enormous.
Naturally, high-ranking mages of the Magic Tower enjoyed tremendous authority, wealth, and honor as a result.
Yet even such a one was now on his knees, begging before a mere child.
"Speak. What happened?"
The high-ranking mage trembled violently, carefully selecting what to say and what to withhold.
If even a hint of falsehood slipped into his words, she would reduce all his authority and position to trash on the spot.
It wasn't because she particularly despised lies.
In her view, lies wasted the time needed for genuine inquiry. They made his information unreliable, diminishing his value.
And she showed no mercy to useless people.
"You think handing off the Magic Tower's tedious tasks to me makes you somebody?"
"No, ma'am!"
Blue hair, petite frame. To anyone unfamiliar with her, she might pass for a new student at the magic academy.
But those who knew her true nature understood that calling her a 'person' was a crude and imprecise term at best.
She was a mage who had lived for centuries, the Tower Master herself. Pashier.
"Secret spells behind my back, hm? And on such a massive scale... Who did you conspire with? And did you think I'd just smile and take on your burden?"
"It was His Majesty's command! I had no choice!"
"How unfortunate... If it was the Emperor's order, then there's nothing to be done."
Even in her innocent, merciful tone, the high-ranking mage couldn't relax.
"But do I really need to keep someone more loyal to His Majesty than to me in the Magic Tower? Hm? There might be an opening in the Imperial mages..."
"Forgive me! I didn't mean to trouble you with something trivial... I thought it was manageable. If I'd had enough time, I could have handled it alone!"
Her words sounded like she might mercifully let him go, but the high-ranking mage knew exactly how she dealt with those deemed useless by her standards.
He would pay for his betrayal. A mage's assassination was undetectable unless countered by an even stronger mage.
With imperial-level influence, one might secure protections like contracts with goddesses or divine beasts, or high priests, to stand tall before her. But he was just a mage.
The moment he fled, Pashier would brand him a traitor and execute him.
Even if banished without her trust, he must avoid incurring her wrath.
"Looking at the reagents used... power, force, dimensions, anchors... Doesn't it scream danger? I never pegged you for someone who'd handle this."
"That is..."
"By my limited knowledge, the only reason to craft a spell with those materials is an otherworldly invasion. Odd, isn't it?"
It was only natural for Pashier to treat this gravely. It went beyond deceiving her eyes and colluding with the Emperor.
The magical reagents used were all exceedingly rare, but it wasn't just their cost that was the issue.
The danger they posed was far greater. Even she, with centuries of life, had rarely encountered them.
If an accident occurred, it wouldn't destroy just a village or a city.
"His Majesty wouldn't lead something like this. Who could it be? Who fooled the Emperor's eyes and ears... Hm?"
"It... it was necessary. With His Majesty's permission..."
"Then you should at least explain why it was necessary."
Her small, fragile voice, brimming with killing intent, pierced his ears.
"We're having a conversation, but if one side withholds information and just parrots 'I was wrong' like a mimic bird, can that be called sincerity? Hm?"
"Th-that..."
He couldn't keep hiding it forever. Breaking his promise to the Emperor was near-treason, but that mage would extract the information she wanted no matter what.
"A reverse summoning... ritual."
"Whose? This era's Hero was Elenor."
Heroes were mostly created through the Goddess's summoning, but there had been local-born Heroes too.
Pashier, who had adventured with her, was certain. Elenor was an unquestionable Hero.
"...No."
"Trying to lie to my face?"
"No! You know I'm not that foolish!"
"Unfortunately, I used to trust your loyalty too. Now I can't trust my own judgment. So, what are you trying to say?"
"There is... a Hero. With the Imperial mages... the Princess used a spell to proxy his power."
Pashier racked her memory for the spell. But the odds it was true were too low.
For now, it felt like another feeble lie piled onto the deception.
"That spell requires the Hero's consent. True consent from the heart, not coercion or force. How? When did you even see him? Right after summoning, he hands over his power?"
"...It's true."
"Fine, let's say it's true. Then where is this Hero? That spell isn't omnipotent. Without the real Hero, the Goddess's..."
Something clicked. Pashier tilted her small face.
No spell arises without reason. Simple ones like 'kill enemies' or 'heal the sick' might abound, but a Hero-related spell wouldn't be so trivial.
Hero summonings occurred roughly every 300 years—a spell used once every three centuries, if at all. The last use was likely the Demon King subjugation nearly 1,000 years ago.
Naturally, such 'custom' spells had immense restrictions. The power recipient had to stay near the Hero, and to grow stronger via the Goddess's blessing, they needed the real Hero's permission each time.
No such person could exist.
"Ah."
Come to think of it, there was one inexplicable person in the Hero party.
Porters supporting Hero parties weren't unprecedented, but this one differed from every historical 'porter' in countless ways.
He didn't seem driven by a sense of duty, nor did he display standout skills.
From what she knew, some noble had forced his way in for prestige.
She'd rarely spoken to him directly, but he hadn't denied it, so she'd assumed as much.
But if that fleeting thought proved true...
"Please, don't tell me I've already met him?"
"Y-you already know. He was the porter who went adventuring with the party..."
Pashier clutched her forehead. The gesture was adorably childlike, but she was gravely concerned for this empire—no, this world's future.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"H-His Majesty insisted! He said if the truth got out, it might shake the party's trust..."
"Right. It would. If I'd known the Hero party was run like that, I'd have torn it all apart ages ago!!!"
For a sorceress, resource allocation was akin to fate.
Every sorceress had ambitions, but money, power, people, experimental materials, and time were finite.
Pashier was free from time's constraints, but old habits died hard.
She had used someone who wanted to help the Hero party as a porter in her own 'useful' way.
But that wasn't how you used a Hero.
What would a precious gem think if used as a sturdy stepping stone or a sharp butcher's knife?
She gnashed her teeth and wailed.
"This is bad. So bad... What do I do? We're all doomed. My dream... How long have I endured this wretched life for this..."
The centuries of wisdom and danger behind her youthful face vanished, leaving only a agonized girl sobbing.
"Y-you. Let me ask one thing."
She had no leisure to ponder punishment for the traitor. Betrayal was betrayal, hiding it from her was that—but her own sin was far greater.
"Yes?"
"How do you kids these days... make up?"