The Black Mage's Sudden Acceleration (5)
Pelle threw open the door and strode inside. Idwild hesitated for a moment before following her into the room. In the dark space, Pelle was fumbling around for a match. Idwild snapped her fingers, igniting the candle.
"...Handy."
Idwild had never been in Pelle's room before. She curiously scanned the space lit by the candle's glow. There wasn't much to marvel at, really. The layout was identical to the one she shared with Della—a window opposite the door, beds and small desks lined up along the side walls, and a large shared wardrobe. One side was impeccably tidy, while the other was a mess of tangled blankets and junk strewn across the desk. That had to be Marim's territory.
"Marim doesn't seem like the type who bothers with tidying up..."
"She doesn't clean and she talks too damn much."
Pelle, seated in the chair, nodded toward the bed with her chin. As Idwild sat opposite her on the mattress, Pelle crossed her arms and legs. Her short skirt rode up, revealing long, sleek thighs. Idwild felt oddly intimidated by the sight and fidgeted with her own plump ones.
"So, what had the black mage out in the hall alone, moping around?"
"It's not a big deal or anything... Not serious enough for you to worry about... I just had some things to think over on my own, and somehow it ended up like that, you know..."
Pelle fixed Idwild with a thin, pitying stare as she rambled incoherently. Idwild's words trailed off into mumbles.
"It's because of that friend of the innkeeper's who showed up today, right?"
"Uh...?! H-how did you... No, it's not that...! Brione has nothing to do with it...!"
"You even know her name, so you're not strangers."
"Uh...?"
Pelle tilted her horned head, casting an odd shadow on the ceiling.
"Not?"
"Uh... Y-yeah... Um... You're right... Brione's a mage I knew before..."
"A mage, huh. So she must've been a comrade traveling with the innkeeper."
"You know what Bertrand used to do back then...?"
"Of course. I escaped the Demon King's castle while he was massacring everyone there."
Idwild blinked vacantly at Pelle. Feeling the weight of that gaze, Pelle turned her head away.
"Spare me the pity."
"Huh...? Pity...? Oh..."
Pelle had assumed Idwild would offer condolences for her past, and missing the mark left her embarrassed. She scowled and snapped sharply.
"So, what's it got to do with that mage showing up and you wandering around alone at night, black mage?"
"Well, see... Brione was actually my comrade too... No... Not exactly a comrade, but we traveled together for a bit anyway..."
"Not a comrade but tagging along briefly? Sounds like a porter or a temporary hire out of necessity. They wouldn't have used a black mage as baggage handler. Probably had you doing something black magic-related."
Idwild was impressed by Pelle's deductive skills. It wasn't anything complicated, but Pelle's cool, clipped tone lent even trivial details an air of gravity.
"And a black mage like you probably didn't fit in, got left on the sidelines. With your personality, you'd never mesh with some brash, cheeky type like that."
"Y-yeah... Spot on, Pelle... You've already got Brione all figured out..."
"Mages are all annoying pricks anyway."
Idwild nodded unconsciously before startling and denying it.
"N-no...! Brione's actually pretty nice..."
"A nice person rags on an old comrade they haven't seen in years about her messy hair, big tits, short stature, and clumsiness?"
"W-well... That's just her personality..."
"Get a grip, black mage."
Idwild flinched and looked up at Pelle's icy, dagger-like voice.
"If she saw you as an equal—or superior—she wouldn't talk to you like that."
"I guess..."
"Exactly. It's the natural attitude of someone who looks down on you. Anyone who belittles others isn't 'nice.' Got it?"
"Y-yeah... Got it..."
Idwild curled into a ball as Pelle's clear words stabbed like cold blades into her chest. Seeing this, Pelle softened her tone slightly.
"Keep talking. Chest out."
Idwild had no idea how to even begin explaining her feelings to Pelle. She'd rarely opened up to anyone, and the reasons were mortifyingly embarrassing. In the short time it took to resolve the Al-Jasha incident—less than a month—she'd fallen for Bertrand. Simple human courtesy and attention were treasures to her, and his casually kind demeanor had utterly shaken her heart. On top of that, he was tall, handsome, wielded a gleaming Holy Sword, and was a powerhouse of a hero. To Idwild, he was like a radiant god from myth.
But she'd never confessed. How could someone like me dare? That was the perfect word. Dare.
After parting ways and wandering the darkness for years, she'd reunited with him. Now she could finally live alongside him in the light—until Brione showed up out of nowhere. That haughty mage had always nagged and nitpicked Idwild. No malice, of course; it was just advice to help her act like a "normal person," which Idwild knew. Still, Brione made her uncomfortable, and seeing her waltz back into the inn after years, cozying up to Bertrand like that, filled her with dread.
They'd been close before; this was just a chance reunion. Brione would leave soon. Even so, Idwild's heart was in turmoil. Is he comparing me to that pretty, elegant mage...? Mages are way more useful than black mages—will he kick me out and let her stay...?）
Pelle's face twisted in disgust after hearing it all—not at Idwild.
"You... like the innkeeper...? Has black magic messed with your head or something?"
"Bertrand's an amazing guy... I get why you'd hold a grudge against him, Pelle..."
Pelle furrowed her brow, utterly baffled, then sighed.
"Fine, whatever. Point is, that mage's arrival has regressed you."
"Regressed...?"
"Yeah. You've been getting along fine with the innkeeper until now, but she butts in, and suddenly you're back to being that sidelined Idwild from back then."
"That's true..."
"And she's a mage—way more useful than a black mage—so your position feels shaky. Plus, some old female 'comrade' cozying up to the guy you like? That'd piss anyone off. Biggest reason, probably?"
"Y-yeah... How do you know all this...?"
Pelle paused, wondering what to say to this idiot of a black mage. But she decided not to rub it in while the girl was already upset.
"Obvious just looking at you. Anyway, that's why you couldn't sleep and were skulking around outside?"
"Y-yeah... Tried to sleep, but all these thoughts kept popping up..."
"Hmm. Doesn't seem like there's much you can do right now."
Idwild had no rebuttal and nodded glumly. Pelle was spot on. Bertrand and Brione's friendship was natural; she couldn't interfere. No courage, boldness, or justification. Hiring or firing was entirely Bertrand's call as innkeeper—including letting Idwild go. Black magic couldn't surpass general magic due to its side effects and limits, so she couldn't argue her usefulness over Brione's.
Pelle eliminated the least likely scenario first.
"But that mage probably won't work at the inn."
"Whyyy...?"
"A mage's salary for half a year would bankrupt the innkeeper."
"True, but... what if Brione says she'll work for the same pay as us...?"
"Why would a mage do that?"
"They're friends... And I don't know much, but she seems to like Bertrand too... Maybe she just wants to stay with him...?"
Pelle listened silently, arms still crossed, leg still over the other.
"After a month traveling together, I saw how nice Brione was to Bertrand... She's prickly with everyone else, but always sweet to him... She came to the inn to be with him, for sure... If a mage joins, black mages aren't needed, so he'll fire me... Statues like the parking lot ones? A mage could whip those up easy... And then..."
Idwild hesitated before continuing.
"And... back when we traveled... I accidentally saw them in a room at the inn... doing it with Bertrand... So he probably likes her too..."
"Stupid black mage. Sex doesn't require love."
Idwild reeled from the bluntness. She gawked at Pelle, who met her eyes coldly.
"Don't give me that sappy 'you need love to sleep together' crap."
"O-okay... So... anyway... where was I... Oh, right... If Brione pushes me out and joins the inn, then I'll..."
Pelle listened to Idwild's tearful ramble in silence. Tears plopped onto her chest.
"Will I have to go back to that abandoned castle basement...? Boiling heads for shrunken-head amulets to sell... Taking curse commissions for pocket change if I'm lucky... Blaming my cursed body while scraping by like a cockroach...?"
A handkerchief landed on Idwild's knee as she sobbed with her head bowed.
"Stop crying. I hate tears most."
Pelle tossed it curtly.
"Sorry..."
As Idwild wiped her eyes, Pelle waited, then spoke.
"If it bothers you that much, easiest is to curse her dead. But she's a mage—high failure risk."
"Mages have mana shields that block external attacks first..."
"Shut it. Don't care. Point is, you can't do jack right now. Even if they screw tonight."
That was Idwild's core anxiety: no way to act or intervene. If she'd fully captured Bertrand's heart or could chase Brione off, she wouldn't be suffering. What she needed wasn't some impossible scheme to oust Brione, but the reassurance of doing something preparatory.
Pelle latched onto that and pondered options. Wait... Why am I helping this big-titted dimwit whose head's smaller than her boobs? I just need to pay off my debt to the innkeeper with my salary and bail.
But looking at the pitiful, huddled black mage, Pelle sighed.
"You're overlooking one thing."
"What...?"
"That mage might leave soon, or not even like the innkeeper. You're assuming the worst without proof."
"Yeah..."
"But telling you 'no one knows what she'll do' won't help. So let's assume your nightmare scenario happens and think what you can do."
"Is there a way...?"
"You gonna just sit there? Gotta do something or you'll never relax."
Idwild wanted to, but Pelle's words scared her. A lifetime of passivity made taking charge feel alien and terrifying. Huddling in the dark, blaming herself—that was comfortable. But not for Pelle. Even if it flopped, she believed Idwild needed to try something, and decided to act now.
"Blondie's asleep now?"
"Della...? Dunno... She was studying earlier..."
Pelle stood, looking down at Idwild.
"Up. To your room, black mage."