Chapter 5

The saintess hated mages with a passion. Though it was framed as a dispatch mission, this was essentially my first outing in about a year. I was finally escaping the stifling den of magic-obsessed lunatics, able to see up close the landscapes I'd only glimpsed through windows for the past twelve months. As the Magic Tower Master, I couldn't show it outright, but naturally, I was buzzing with excitement. Of course, I'd have to face Arian's wrath head-on when I returned to the tower. But that was a problem for later—I decided not to dwell on it. For now, I'd savor this freedom.

But then the heretics went and ruined my outing. A whole year, mind you. It might not compare to whatever steamed buns that guy in prison was choking down, but it was more than enough time to drive a person mad. So yeah, I was in a foul mood, and understandably so. The built-up stress was too much to just brush off casually. I'd been working nonstop without a single day off, and now that I finally had a chance to relax, these idiots couldn't hold back and had to interfere?

'You're all dead today.'

A deep furrow formed between my brows as I stood up. I gently opened the carriage door and stepped out. Deep down, I wanted to smash it off its hinges, but I couldn't—the carriage belonged to the Goddess Church. How many complaints had come from dispatched mages causing incidents? As the saying goes, clear water above means clear water below. The superiors have to set the example first. Or... would they even behave if I did? A fleeting doubt crossed my mind, but I shoved it aside. Good was good, and at least Arian wouldn't nag me about it.

Anyway, now it was time to deal with these damn heretics. I quickly assessed the situation. About twenty cloaked figures openly advertising themselves as heretics. And a similar number of the church's holy knights facing them off.

'We're outnumbered.'

Surprisingly, when it came to raw strength, the heretics ranked pretty high as a group. It varied by individual skill, but generally speaking. Not every mage who believed in the Goddess Church became a priest, but any mage who turned to heresy became a full-fledged heretic. In contrast, holy knights were a noble bunch, existing only among those with extremely deep faith. So, they weren't particularly strong, faith aside. If you ignored the heresy part, didn't the heretics actually have deeper devotion? Those guys were straight-up maniacs.

We were losing in faith and skill. Was the Goddess Church's holy knight order really okay like this?

As these stray thoughts ran through my head, I suddenly sensed mana flows. Six from the holy knights' side, eight from the heretics. A total of fourteen mages preparing spells simultaneously. Mana streams from their fingertips traced bizarre shapes, those shapes forming incantations, and multiple incantations weaving into magic circles.

Seven 2nd-circle spells, seven 3rd-circle... Three fire attributes, four wind, two earth, five water... The magic circles were nearly complete, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mana surging intensely—

Snap.

I flicked my fingers. In an instant, all fourteen near-finished circles dissipated into the air.

Anti-Magic. A spell that breaks down enemy magic by reverting it to mana. In mere seconds, I'd analyzed and countered all fourteen spells, sending out precisely tuned mana flows. Impossible without memorizing countless magic diagrams and incantations—a near-miraculous feat.

"Wh-what...?"

"What's going on?!"

"Why is this happening?!"

Murmurs spread among the mages. Some tried casting again, but I casually dismantled them with more Anti-Magic. Then a shout came from the heretics' side.

"I-it's Franz!! The great mage Franz is here!!"

Impressively, one heretic actually recognized my face. It was only natural, though. To heretics worshiping the Demon God, the hero party that defeated the Demon King were traitors incarnate.

Their gazes snapped to me, fanatic killing intent pouring out fiercely. But it lasted only a moment.

I lightly gestured in the air, and the heads of nearly twenty heretics hit the ground.

Killing humans. An act that naturally repulsed any fellow human. But to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me, who'd been through countless slaughters, it was routine. Decapitated bodies crumpled, red blood soaking the earth. At the gruesome sight, the priests turned away en masse. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠A few weak-stomached ones dry-heaved.

Only one person silently watched it all. The saintess, who'd endured just as many battlefields as I had. Her sharp gaze slowly turned to me. She strode over and snapped,

"Did you have to go that far?!"

At that moment, a familiar window popped up between us.

I could see it, but the saintess couldn't. Fury boiled up in me instantly. I was busting my ass to prevent the world's doom, yet the very person involved couldn't even see the guide window and was acting on her whims. Plus, her hypocritical attitude had grated on me for ages.

I swatted the window aside and spat out the resentment I'd bottled up for so long.

"Then what should I have done? Heretics get burned at the stake anyway if caught. I just sent them off easy. And they'd have died by the holy knights' hands regardless. You're mad even though I dirtied my hands instead of your believers? No thanks expected, fine, but why the anger?"

"It's still lives we're talking about?! Did you feel even a shred of pity taking all those lives?! You've always been like this! Snuffing out countless souls without a hint of guilt every time!"

It was a clash between one chasing ideals into reality and one numbed by harsh truths. The problem was it was the saintess versus the Magic Tower Master—no one dared intervene.

"You really need to face reality..."

I started to say more but stopped, noticing the attention on us. I couldn't burden the group with personal drama. People were still waiting for aid, and we couldn't delay.

I averted my gaze, and she caught the meaning, falling silent too. Just before boarding the carriage, she murmured,

"I've always hated that about you."

Pot calling the kettle black. I let out a sigh instead of retorting and climbed in. The carriage jolted faintly and set off.

I stared blankly at the window and let out another long sigh. That burst of anger had reset everything to square one. Still, there was some progress—I learned the percentage could drop. Not that I particularly wanted to know. Well, figuring it out for just a 5% drop felt like a bargain, sort of.

'Maybe if I apologize, it'll go back up...'

I felt oddly stingy about that 5%. Feuding with the saintess only hurt me anyway, so I needed to fix this. Was this some A-and-B contract dynamic...? I felt wronged.

* * * * *

The carriage convoy arrived at the village, and full-scale relief efforts began. The village's state wasn't even jokingly good. Like any remote rural spot, but worsened by the monster attack. No building was intact; fields that should be green were stamped with monster footprints.

So when the relief team arrived, villagers swarmed us. Priests bustled about, supplies vanishing fast. Plenty of monster victims meant the saintess had to hustle too.

Amid the frenzy, my job was repairing collapsed buildings. I should've been guarding the saintess, but after seeing the fight, the priests insisted it was fine—a "considerate" gesture. But with the village in ruins, I volunteered for repairs myself.

Thanks to that, I missed my apology window and felt stuffy. Sighing with frustration, I waved my hand, and building materials slotted perfectly into place on their own.

"Whoa... that mage fella's got some skills. Could be Magic Tower Master material...?"

"Haha... thank you."

I am the Magic Tower Master, sir.

How much time passed after that? I'd just finished all the repairs when a kid approached me.

"Mr. Mage, the saintess is acting weird."

Huh, Mr.? I'm only mid-twenties—bro works better. Anyway.

"The saintess is acting weird?"

"Yeah..."

Something about the kid's sullen face felt ominously off. I headed straight to her.

"Saintess... that person's already..."

"They were alive just moments ago! There has to be some way, there must be! Please, please..."

The saintess's "weirdness" had slammed into the massive wall called reality.