The Summoner of Rest
In the end, before we even toured the workshop, we all decided to stop by a nearby café first.
Shirogane Rui had mentioned that the Sirogane Union was full of people deeply versed in alchemy, and that one of them ran a shop as a hobby. That was how we ended up here.
She’d claimed that mixing drinks and mixing alchemical formulas differed only in the ingredients. Given how skilled the alchemists were, I supposed the drinks tasted decent enough. Let’s leave it at that.
What mattered wasn’t the café’s flavor, but the girl fidgeting right in front of me—Shin Na-rae.
Honestly, I wanted nothing more than to dissolve this gathering on the spot. But I didn’t. Even if I walked away now, I’d only buy temporary peace. Sooner or later Ban Taewung would engineer the exact same seating arrangement all over again.
Better to deal with it once than suffer the same hassle twice.
Clink.
I set my coffee cup down, finished my thoughts, and looked straight at the girl across from me.
“So. What is it you wanted to say?”
“...From the first time I saw you, I had a vague sense of it. But after witnessing that person’s form, I became certain.”
At my words, Shin Na-rae’s expression hardened into something deeply solemn, as though she had finally steeled herself. She stiffened, then glanced past me at Echidna, who sat beside me tapping the sugar powder and whipped cream atop her matcha frappé with a spoon, blinking her big eyes.
“That one... is a demon, isn’t she?”
“A demon?!”
The one who reacted wasn’t anyone else—it was Sera Bright. Her hand flew to her hip as if to draw a sword, only for her face to twist in realization that she hadn’t brought a weapon. Undeterred, she cloaked her entire body in holy power like a makeshift blade and squared off against me, shielding Shin Na-rae. I watched the woman thrashing about on her own with calm eyes and simply used my mana.
“If you don’t want to die, put away that pathetic killing intent.”
“...Ghk— uh, uugh...”
Even with my eyes wide open and watching, she dared to reach for what was mine. Anyone else would already be dead. No—before that, I would have slipped shadows into the depths of their brain and let them savor the slow blending of cerebrospinal fluid and brain matter, then killed them.
“...Kh.”
The shadow mana I now possessed expressed my mental image itself. That meant I could transmit my thoughts to a target exactly as I envisioned them. What I had just shown her was Presence laced with Charisma, poured into my mana.
A power that should have merely amplified one’s presence and drawn attention now forced the target to experience whatever I imagined—phantom pain, illusion, the whole package—exactly as I directed. Sera Bright’s face contorted grotesquely because she had half-lived through the scene I pictured.
Watching her stagger under nothing more than raw mana pressure, without a shred of true killing intent, felt like watching a newborn fawn try to stand. Even the way she desperately held on and glared at me was repulsive. I had done nothing, yet she bared her fangs first; now that she was losing, she played the victim.
Did she truly never consider she might die?
“A self-proclaimed knight who understands neither the meaning of drawing a blade nor the resolve that should come with it. Pathetic.”
Soft. Immature. And it soured my mood.
Yes—this was how humans were. Arrogant creatures who screamed that their values were absolute. Like mongrels barking at every passerby for fear someone might steal their food bowl.
“Get lost. Half-wit. You’re not even worth my time.”
“You bastard...!!”
People naturally rage when the shame they hide is exposed. Right now she was so swept up in her own emotions that she had erased even the thought of the person she had been trying to protect. Whatever past she carried, whatever had happened to her—none of it was my concern.
She had ignored my word to withdraw her killing intent. Worse, she had shown clear intent to attack. That was enough.
Fail.
I wouldn’t kill her. But I would make certain she could never again call herself a knight or lift a sword. My mana, steeped in that exact will, darkened and took shape. Like ink blooming across water, the shadows seeped outward and began to forge themselves into a razor-sharp blade—
“Sera Bright. As a Saint Candidate, I order you: withdraw your holy power at once.”
“Sinwoo.”
Flash.
Light flared as Ban Taewung and Shin Na-rae spoke at the same time. Ban Taewung took the full brunt of the mana aimed at Sera Bright, caught my hand just as it was about to twitch, and calmly shook his head.
Thud.
With her holy power sealed by Shin Na-rae’s authority, Sera Bright crumpled to the floor the moment the pressure vanished. The cold sweat she had poured out in those few seconds was no joke.
I never intended to kill her anyway. Why she looked so terrified was beyond me. That I could even think this way was a privilege born of strength. Had I been weak, I would have been stuck here arguing over Echidna, bleeding emotion for nothing.
I reeled my mana back in. From start to finish my face had been indifferent; now I layered it with deliberate disgust and irritation, as though looking at an insect.
“...There won’t be a second time.”
The warning was not for her alone. It was for everyone nearby.
I utterly loathed anyone reaching for what was mine. Make exception after exception, compromise with yourself again and again, and the one who ends up worn away to nothing is yourself. So from the beginning I draw the final line and spend only the bare minimum—only what is absolutely necessary.
I closed my eyes and exhaled through my nose, cooling the anger. Comet and Echidna immediately rushed over, as if to soothe me.
“Master, please try this! I asked the shopkeeper to add herbs that calm the mind and body. In a way, isn’t this exactly what Master needs right now?”
Too many words. Way too many. I accepted the bite-sized cookie she held to my lips. Bitter. Astringent. And with every chew the crumbs flooded my mouth until it turned dry and chalky in an instant.
...This was medicine, not dessert. Anyone could see that.
In that moment the desert rose in my mind—mouth parched, body craving moisture. That cursed quality lived inside the cookie. Just how thoroughly had she modified it to produce such a novel flavor? Maybe I had unleashed a poison on her that should never have been released.
Crunch.
Still, it wasn’t inedible, so I forced the rest down. The bitter aftertaste clung stubbornly.
“My Lord, please accept my offering.”
The moment my mouth was empty, a straw appeared. It was the matcha frappé I had bought for her. No—since it was with me, it was fine. I sent through the Link, You drink it, and took a sip of the coffee I had ordered for myself.
The coffee’s bitterness washed the cookie’s bitterness away, leaving everything clean. No—more than that, it made the coffee’s subtle aroma stand out even more. Using poison to suppress poison and produce a higher effect? Comet’s perfectionism showed even in something this small.
“Not bad.”
I would have preferred it actually tasted good, but at least the foul mood was gone. Maybe she had planned that all along.
“Heheh!”
“Hiiing...”
Comet beamed with pride while Echidna, looking dejected yet obedient, sipped the matcha frappé as ordered. The taut atmosphere finally loosened.
“You eat too.”
I handed the remaining cookie Comet had given me to Ban Taewung, who was still hovering in front of me. Feeding him by hand would have been disgusting, so I formed a shadow hand and half-forced it into his mouth. No way I was suffering alone.
“Hup?! Chew chew, gulp. Ueeegh, what is this... it’s so bitter!! And my throat—khehk!”
Coughing violently, face turning green as if he had swallowed something inedible, Ban Taewung immediately grabbed the drink on his table and gulped it down.
“Pwah— I-I’m alive.”
That should have cleared the air. I had no desire to drag this out seriously. The tension drained from everyone’s faces at once as they understood.
“...Haa. You really are far too selfish. Don’t you ever get tired of it?”
“Mm-hm, little brother Sinwoo is impossible to predict. That’s part of his charm, though.”
Shirogane Rui smoothly picked up Luicia’s words.
“...Excuse me?”
Luicia, who had been nodding along in agreement, suddenly stared at Shirogane Rui as if doubting her own ears.
“Hm? What?”
Their gazes crossed. Their thoughts clearly weren’t aligned. One looked shocked, the other puzzled. After a long frozen moment, Luicia let out a sigh.
“...Never mind. I think I just got a rough idea of what kind of person the Discipline Committee president is.”
“Really? I was relieved too—little brother’s friends turned out to be more fun than I expected!”
This woman wasn’t ordinary either. Luicia clutched her head alone at the realization.
Having rinsed my mouth with coffee, I looked at Shin Na-rae, who had helped Sera Bright into a seat, and spoke.
“Can we get to the point now?”
“...Yes. I’m truly sorry that my attendant caused you trouble.”
An apology delivered through someone else only cheapened its value. I neither accepted nor acknowledged it—I simply ignored it.
“First of all, Echidna’s race is indeed demon. But she is also my contracted summon. Nothing the Church imagines is going to happen, so don’t worry.”
Among the policies of the Church—more precisely the Gwangil Church—there were several items that had to be carried out with absolute priority no matter what. They weren’t doctrine itself, but rules the faithful imposed on themselves in order to uphold that doctrine.
Disposal of undead, rescue of civilians, and never ceasing the self-tempering that most closely approached the doctrine’s ideal of asceticism—those were examples. Demons, however, ranked at the very top of the elimination list. They possessed the power to stir human emotions and sow chaos, and thus were said to lead the faithful astray.
Asceticism was hard by nature. Humans were sturdy yet soft. The Gwangil Church believed training could overcome that softness. And since repeated training really did stack stats on the status window, in a way they weren’t wrong.
But demons could soften even the sturdiest person with ease. They stimulated fundamental human emotions and corrupted them. That was why the Church’s people feared, guarded against, and rejected demons so fiercely. Some even sought to prove the firmness of their faith by slaying demons. The Bright family, to which Sera Bright belonged, was the prime example.
The current head alone had felled over ten thousand demons, including high-ranking titled ones. The title of strongest holy knight was not empty.
In that sense, Sera Bright herself could be called a failure of the Bright family. Her combat power was fine. Her appearance was neat, and her skill with holy power was top-tier among her peers. Simply being enrolled in this academy was proof enough. The problem was that her insides were rotten.
Now that I had awakened the power of the soul, Sera Bright looked no different from those cheap balloon dolls. No matter how polished the exterior, once the air leaked out she would simply collapse. She broke far too easily. Her body had grown, but her core had never matured. A textbook case of a tiger father and dog son.
“More importantly, this one is a cleric.”
“...A cleric?”
“That’s impossible...”
Ban Taewung and Sera Bright—who had managed to pull herself together—both voiced doubt and denial. Her face was still deathly pale; she wasn’t truly standing so much as clinging on through sheer stubbornness. Without Shin Na-rae beside her she would have fainted long ago.
So a candidate is still a candidate, huh.
The title of Saint was not a mere rank or status handed out. It was something that naturally attached itself when an existence’s power, conduct, and everything else harmonized. In that regard, Shin Na-rae truly was a Saint Candidate. Whether she intended it or not, she was right now supporting the frail little lamb beside her in real time.
Which meant Sera Bright was leaning on someone else’s will rather than her own. Because she herself was weak, because the weight she carried terrified her, she sought that strength in others. Most people would fail at that. But luckily for her, a refuge named “Shin Na-rae” sat right beside her.
Perhaps the reason she remained at a Saint Candidate’s side even though she was not yet a full holy knight was a defense mechanism—protecting her own weakness by playing at knighthood. Her heart aside, her skill was excellent. But that only worked against low- or mid-tier threats at best.
Because I myself dealt with mental images, I felt it all the more keenly. In this world, mere physical strength was not enough to survive. Only when the heart was fully tempered could one even stand at the starting line.
That was why she grated on me. Everyone else fought desperately just to reach that starting line—now and forever. But she was different. What she did was self-consolation. By acting out the image of a knight who protected someone, she turned her back on reality and fled for all she was worth. If she had poured that effort into self-reflection she would already be stronger... Whether to call that truly foolish or truly human, I couldn’t decide.
All I knew was that watching someone who couldn’t even manage herself yet kept her mouth running filled me with pure disgust.
“Why? There are parasites who only play at being knights. Why are you so sure a demon cleric can’t exist?”
“...”
Grind.
Sera Bright clenched her teeth. She had instantly understood who the “parasite” referred to. At least her instincts were sharp. Explaining a hundred times would never make her understand. I turned my gaze to Echidna. Cream smeared thickly around her mouth, she looked up. At that sight the sour feeling in my chest melted away in an instant.
It felt like the tension of someone who had lived only on battlefields finally returning home—taut nerves loosening just a little. Lately that tendency had grown stronger toward my summons. I arbitrarily guessed it was because our souls were linked and I felt a sense of relief.
...But honestly, I still didn’t know for sure. Learning that little by little was probably one of the ways this power grew. There had to be a reason I felt this way.
To soothe the emotion welling up, I formed a napkin from shadow, gently wiped the cream from her lips myself, and lowered the veil she had lifted to drink.
“Blessing.”
“I receive my Lord’s command.”
At those words Echidna clasped her small hands before her chest and quietly closed her eyes.
"[Let there be Rest.]"
She needed no lengthy prayer. More precisely, she had no need of one. Within the Doctrine she had witnessed, endured, and perfected, ornate words were useless. What mattered more than a hundred phrases was a single true proof.
All that was required was an earnest heart and the persistence to make it real. With only those two things, her holy power moved. The wish she held became my strength. As long as I continued forward, she would never abandon her efforts. Through me, she longed to be proven.
Have I become your strength?
Not through the Link, but faintly through our souls, her mental image resonated and became pure holy power that gently enveloped the surroundings. A pure question. At the same time, an innocent wish.
I answered in kind through my own mental image.
Don’t ask the obvious. It’s a waste of time.
Echidna smiled faintly. At that sight I caught my breath.
Appearance, looks, even race—everything was different. Yet the smile wrapped in light looked so much like the one I had seen atop the clock tower. A bitter smile rose to my lips, but I erased it at once. I froze the aching in my chest as if locking it in ice.
A world where that smile could remain—that was the goal I sought.
As if comforting my resolve, vitality flowed through my entire body. My spirits lifted, and something hollow inside seemed to fill, settling warm in my chest. Healing only a demon who fed on emotion and ruled emotion could give.
A gentle rain of rest falling upon hearts worn by endless battle. A following wind that pushed forward those who never stopped advancing.
“...Is that proof enough?”
Sniff.
Instead of an answer, someone sniffled. Looking around, I saw everyone wearing solemn expressions. Well, gathering around a protagonist usually meant there was something broken about you. They were made so that the “protagonist” would fill those missing pieces and make them “complete.”
The faintest reaction came from Sera Bright. That was only natural. Of everyone here, her heart was the most diseased. A few drops of light rain on something twisted, tangled, and cracked open wouldn’t change much.
But even the smallest change was still a change. Whether it became poison or medicine was up to her from here on.
...Or more accurately, up to Ban Taewung?
“My Lord, did I do well?”
“...Yeah.”
As if cutting off my thoughts, the girl smiled like an innocent child and clung to me. I stroked her head the way I had before—carefully, yet with firm certainty.
Pat.
I left a trace that I was here, right now.