Saint Marygold (8): Heal Exists
15.
Heal exists.
No exalted priest, bishop, or archbishop he'd ever met had come close to mimicking even something like white magic. But from this moment on, heal was real.
Lancel racked his brain, trying to recall what white magic entailed.
Thankfully, it wasn't complicated. White magic fell into three broad categories.
First up was the most basic recovery spell: heal. He'd already confirmed it worked with his own eyes, so that was a pass.
The second was the "blessing line," spells that boosted the target's stats.
"Hah, hah... how long do I have to keep doing this?"
"Keep running."
"Ughhh!"
On one side, he had Hestie lapping the mansion garden in circles. On the other, Marygold praying fervently.
"May Hestie's stamina improve... may Hestie's stamina improve..."
Even Lancel had to admit it was a brutally straightforward experiment. But what choice did he have?
Hestie, in her gym clothes, kept pounding the pavement until she'd circled the garden more than twenty times. She was utterly spent. "Hngh, hiiik!" She looked ready to collapse any second.
"Huh?"
A change rippled across Hestie's face. Her trembling legs steadied. Her wobbly posture straightened. She charged into another lap with renewed vigor.
It wasn't just some runner's high. Far from it.
"Effect?"
Lancel spotted the sparkling lights trailing Hestie like a halo as her stamina surged back.
Blessing!
He glanced at Marygold, who sat beside him, hands clasped tight, murmuring the prayer he'd requested.
"I pray Hestie grows stronger... I pray Hestie runs a hundred laps... I pray Hestie bakes honey bread today... I pray for Hestie...!"
It was barely a prayer, but the results spoke for themselves. Hestie, who'd burned out at twenty laps, hit forty in a flash.
"Young master, a god has descended upon me! I'm glowing right now!"
"The amazing part is you're actually glowing."
Hestie, trailing sparkles, finally collapsed after eighty laps. She took a three-day vacation starting the next day.
Magic had "enhancement spells" too, so it wasn't entirely unique. But there was a distinction.
It's the effect, after all.
Recalling the holy glow around Hestie, Lancel figured that sacred visual was white magic's hallmark. Everything boiled down to looks in the end, didn't it?
Next, the third category: white magic's "offensive line."
Crackle!
"Ooh!"
"Something came out! Something flashed, young master!"
Baron Ivil Shen and Hestie clutched each other's hands in awe.
A light from Marygold's palm incinerated a leaf in an instant. Ash fluttered down like dust.
That'd sting if it hit.
Offensively? Pathetic. A single layer of cheap clothes would shrug off first-degree burns.
He recalled it worked well on undead, ghosts, demons—but Marygold wouldn't be hunting those this loop, at least.
The point was, it worked.
Marygold has begun white magic 'Initiation'!
Her skills are still abysmal!
Marygold had now mastered all three branches of white magic.
Heeeeeal exists!
Yeah. White magic was real. Astonishingly possible. And only Marygold could wield it in this world.
"What next, holy one? Just say the word! I'll do anything!"
Marygold huffed excitedly, her desire for approval sated by the reactions.
Considering she'd been stuck on the ricebug ending not long ago, this was a massive leap.
"If anyone's sick, bring them all to me. I'll heal them! Trust only in me from now on."
Lancel stroked his chin as Marygold strutted confidently around the mansion.
Marygold wielding white magic.
Saint Church branch 200? Piece of cake.
...
"The Saint Church's approval will be revoked soon."
Lancel couldn't ignore the white-hooded man's words.
Encounter event occurred.
'4th Prince Serild Olivia Phrigia' has visited Marygold's church.
"The empire still needs the Orthodox Church more."
The lips beneath the hood curved faintly. The frail 4th Prince Serild—Lancel had met him at the Saint Church.
16.
That day, attending Marygold's dawn prayer for the first time, Lancel felt a shockwave hit him.
"This many people?"
"Growing every day. We need to expand the building ASAP, or I won't even have a seat."
As Baron Ivil Shen said, there wasn't room to stand. Hundreds sat packed, eyes on the central altar.
Soon, blindfolded Marygold appeared.
"Let us pray today as well."
The crowd listened silently to her murmured prayer.
She's already the capital's star attraction.
In the dim space, bathed in light from above, Marygold looked undeniably pious. Enough to draw zealots slicing through the dawn chill.
Seeing devotees crowding outside, straining to hear, was almost intimidating. Marygold might be Rodnis's most famous priest now.
"So, Lancel Dante. Please evacuate Priest Mary from the capital."
And that's where Lancel met the 4th Prince.
"Revoking an approved order will spark massive backlash. The nobles flocking to see Priest Mary daily won't stand for it."
"If the imperial family deems it necessary, the empire can handle far worse."
The prince continued, hands neatly clasped, gazing at Marygold.
"The Orthodox Church is a tool to keep the empire from fracturing. That's its edge over other orders. But the Saint Church is different. Priest Mary owns it. Some might find that... uncomfortable."
Lancel felt how deeply the prince's words cut.
"...I don't follow."
"You don't need to understand it all."
Ordinary folk wouldn't grasp it. The empire splintering into pieces?
But Lancel knew exactly what it meant.
He'd once devoted decades to unifying the empire, believing it his sole mission.
"No need to let a church we can't control grow too big. Just keep that in mind—the palace thinks so."
Lancel fell silent.
Only Marygold's recited prayer echoed.
"If you need help, say the word. I'll assist."
The prince seemed sincere. Frail, but normal amid the wastrel royals.
He'd visited the Saint Church often; a rosary carved with the saint's image hung at his neck.
Lancel pondered.
I need branch 200 no matter what.
After that? Not his problem. Flee to some quiet spot, hit year ten, done.
And with Marygold's momentum, 200 was within reach.
Just accelerate a bit.
"I understand. If I need help, I'll ask then, Your Highness."
"..."
The prince gaped at Lancel's response.
"When did you figure it... never mind."
He shook his head, caught off-guard.
"Take good care of Priest Mary."
With that, the 4th Prince left.
* * *
Fame event: The 148th church has been established!
※ Marygold's karma decreases by 1 point.
The day Marygold's karma halved again, Rodnis buzzed with feverish excitement.
Just one more day until the Imperial Knights Tournament's finale—the long-awaited climax.
The matchup: Lancel Dante versus the Orthodox Church knight dubbed "Black Armor."
No one knew his identity. He'd appeared mid-tournament and rocketed to the finals.
[Final Match Odds: Lancel Dante 1.4x vs Black Armor 2.6x]
The knights tournament scorching Rodnis was reaching its peak.
17.
"Mary."
"Yes, holy one."
Mary brushed back Lancel's hair, her small hands combing gently. It left him oddly languid.
"Once the tournament's over, wanna take a trip? Somewhere far. Like a vacation."
"Y-Yes?!"
For some reason, Mary's body stiffened.
"R-Really?"
"...?"
Lancel eyed her inexplicable panic curiously.
What on earth was she reading into a simple trip suggestion?
"I-Is someone like me okay? You're a noble, holy Lancel... sir."
"...? What does being a noble have to do with it?"
"Haa, whoo, haa, whoooo!"
"What's wrong?"
"Deep breaths, deep breaths..."
Her expression flickered a dozen times before she clasped the comb like a prayer.
Her eyes glistened suspiciously.
"I... like that."
Whatever it was, she was clearly misunderstanding big-time. But Lancel let it slide.
He hadn't said anything ambiguous anyway. And she looked happy, so why correct her?
"Where to, though?"
"Dunno. Somewhere near the sea would be nice. Never got to see seafood living inland."
"Seafood? To eat?"
"Around the Archipelago..."
Lancel regaled her late into the evening with tales of his wanderings.
She soaked it all in, face alight with wonder.
"Mary. I'll make your eyes open."
"...Pardon?"
That casual promise was his last memory of the day—Mary tilting her head.
* * *
Fame event: The 150th church has been established!
※ Marygold's karma decreases by 1 point.
Karma down to a mere 50 points.
Lancel planned to end it in this final match. Whatever the royals did to the Saint Church? Irrelevant. Too late—they couldn't stop 200 branches now.
Opening Marygold's eyes? That was enough. Nothing more needed this loop.
He'd drive the wedge home in the finals, then grab Marygold and bolt. Perfect plan.
"Lancel Dante enters!"
The roar shook the earth. Lancel strode from the dim tunnel to the arena's center.
"Lancel Dante! Lancel Dante! Lancel Dante!"
"Don't lose!"
Emerging, the crowd's cheers battered his ears, deafening him.
"His opponent!"
Lancel eyed the figure emerging from the opposite tunnel.
A man in black armor clanked forward, metal grinding.
His gait, aura, condensed mana, eerie vibe—all felt strangely familiar.
"Black Armor...!"
The armored man slowly removed his helm. Lancel let out a hollow laugh. Too familiar.
"Ves Wayne!"
The arena erupted in shock at the name.
Ves Wayne. The empire's strongest knight. Vanished into seclusion, or so it was said.
"Sent my disciple packing in one hit, huh."
The sword guarding the 1st Princess.
"Let's see how impressive you really are."
Lancel Dante's master.
Can I... win this...?
This was gonna be rough.