The White Mage
"W-what is the meaning of this?! All of a sudden... the three of you surrounding me at once!"
The Lone Wolf, the Hound, the Wandering Knight. Cedric Rowell was a black-armored knight known by countless epithets.
"Don't tell me you're planning to ambush me all at once...! I knew it...! Humans really can't be trusted...!"
He was currently putting on quite the fragile act, covering his armor with both hands.
"...He's already on guard, isn't he? Wouldn't it be faster and simpler to just threaten him and wring the information out?"
"No, Jane. Look closely. In times like this, you don't reach out with your palm facing down..."
Roan extended his hand toward Rowell, palm facing up.
"Rowell. We aren't trying to hurt you. Rather, we want to help."
"What absolute bullshit..."
Rowell raised a hand to slap the offered hand away, but hesitated.
"...Help me?"
"Yeah! There must be something that's too difficult for you to handle alone. Let's take care of it together."
He was instilling a sense of camaraderie, securing honor for the party, and on top of that, gaining whatever information Rowell had gathered. Talk about killing multiple birds with one stone. Roan dangled the bait, masking his wicked calculations behind a warm smile.
"...Fine. You lot certainly have the skill for it."
And Rowell bit the bait, hook, line, and sinker.
Phew. Mission accomplished.
Roan smiled and shook the hand he had clasped.
"So? What's the job? Seeing how easily you agreed, it doesn't seem like some ordinary task."
"...It's certainly not ordinary. We're going to raid a White Mage's experimental site."
"A White Mage...?"
Jane tilted her head, looking puzzled. It was a faction she had never heard of during her time at the Magic Tower.
"What's that? What kind of magic do they use? Fire? Water? Lightning?"
"No. It is not the kind of magic you are familiar with. If I had to describe it..." He looked at Belgarde. "...It is similar to holy power."
"Holy power...? The kind that saves lives and heals wounds?"
"...That is what they claim, at least."
"Since you put it that way, I take it the reality is quite different?"
Rowell nodded at Roan's remark.
"Under the guise of healing wounds, they inject mana into their subjects. Those who receive it suffer a complete collapse of both body and mind."
"Then that's not healing at all."
"Exactly. They aren't healing; they are conducting experiments. On human subjects."
Belgarde's brow furrowed.
"They target those who are too poor to afford the services of priests. In the end, these people are betrayed by the very hands that offered them salvation, transformed into monsters."
Belgarde's expression darkened further. Having spent her life walking through the slums to offer help to the needy, the sheer cruelty of exploiting such desperation hit her close to home.
"So, what's the source of this information?"
"The black market."
A single word, but it carried substantial weight. The black market was a place where merchants of bad information were swiftly and permanently put out of business.
Taking the silence of Roan's party as a sign of agreement, Rowell proceeded to share the target and location.
"The location is the Eye of the Plain. It is quite a distance from the kingdom. Pack lightly, we depart immediately—"
"Hold on, hold on."
"What is it, mage?"
"You left out the most important part. What's the reward?"
Indeed. While cooperating with Rowell was a valuable opportunity, they couldn't just gloss over the compensation.
Hearing Jane's question, Rowell let out a dry scoff.
"You will have earned a modicum of my respect."
What a magnificent reward. Surely even Roan wouldn't accept such nonsense. ...Right? Jane glanced at Roan, a trace of anxiety in her eyes.
"Rowell. I'm sorry, but that's not going to work."
Fortunately, Roan had no intention of letting things slide either. "We need a clear split of the rewards. And you need to tell us who commissioned this."
Roan's firm tone left absolutely no room for negotiation. But what choice did Rowell have? If this partnership fell through, he would be the one at a disadvantage. Reluctantly, Rowell nodded.
"An influential figure in the black market. Apparently, his son grew curious about white magic and joined them. Because it involves his own flesh and blood, the reward is massive. Roughly twenty gold coins."
"Twenty gold... That's decent, but..."
It was a good sum, yet somewhat lacking. The client was a big shot, so money wouldn't be an issue. However, because it was tied to the black market, it wouldn't do much to boost their public reputation.
And it's not even an event I remember. It likely wasn't a major incident that would make waves across the continent, considering he had never even heard of this group in his past life.
...So, was he going to turn it down?
"No need to overthink it. Let's wrap this up quickly."
Not a chance!
The other two immediately stood up to follow Roan. Seeing their synchronized movements, which he was slowly growing accustomed to, Rowell unconsciously stood up along with them.
"Sniff!"
Roan's mock tears of deep emotion at seeing Rowell act like a true comrade were a bonus.
The Eye of the Plain. It was a colossal tree standing at the very center of the vast plains. Its lush, sprawling branches, which seemed large enough to blot out the entire sky, had once served as a sanctuary for adventurers, and its massive trunk, visible from miles away, was a natural landmark.
The only drawback was that monsters also gravitated toward it. Consequently, it had long lost its function as a safe haven, reduced to a mere guidepost for travelers navigating from a safe distance.
"Um, this is actually my first time getting this close. I've always just used it as a landmark from afar..."
"Most adventurers are the same. And don't expect me to save you if you get distracted and end up dead. I won't be held responsible."
"Ugh... that's..."
"You don't need to worry."
Roan answered instantly, cutting through Rowell's attempt at intimidation. A single word of reassurance from him carried more weight than a thousand promises. The moment he spoke, Belgarde's anxiety vanished, and her trembling stopped.
"...Tsk."
Rowell clicked his tongue, annoyed that his attempt to unnerve her had fallen flat.
Right. He was always like this. Roan recalled the past. He remembered how Rowell had stubbornly kept his distance, only opening his heart at the absolute end of the road. As these fond memories resurfaced, Roan looked at him with a gaze that was practically maternal—as if watching a petulant child.
Enveloped in this tense yet strangely peaceful atmosphere, the party drew closer to the Eye of the Plain. Rowell was the first to notice an anomaly.
"...We should have been ambushed by monsters by now, yet there is nothing."
It was a desolate silence. A few beasts, drawn by the scent of decay, lingered at the edges, warily watching the area, but none dared to approach. In other words, the battlefield was already littered with corpses.
"...This is a bit strange, isn't it?"
"Yes. The energy here feels completely chaotic."
Jane and Belgarde spoke in turn, pointing ahead toward a monster's corpse lying in the distance.
"...Wasn't it just scavenged by other beasts?" asked Roan. Since this wasn't an event he remembered from his past life, he was in the dark.
"Words won't do it justice. Go see for yourself."
Roan shrugged at Rowell's remark and walked over to the carcass.
The creature's hide was covered in pale, swollen pustules. He took a few steps closer. The bumpy, uneven growths, which he had initially mistaken for some kind of plague, finally came into clear focus.
Twitch!
...Fleshy growths resembling human faces were blooming from the pustules like grotesque flowers.
"Ah. This is a bit different from what I expected."
The moment he saw it up close, he realized the true nature of the horror. "It looks like there are people trapped inside them."
"You're right. And there are limbs sprouting out of them at random angles..."
It looked as though human bodies were trying to burst out from within the beasts. As they drew closer to the giant tree, the number of these grotesque carcasses multiplied.
"This is sickening."
Jane voiced the exact sentiment they all shared.
Meanwhile, Belgarde walked right up to one of the corpses without hesitation and touched the growths.
"...They've hardened like this. It feels like dead leather, but..." She slowly pulled her hand back and looked at Rowell.
"This is the work of the White Mages, isn't it?"
"Most likely. There is no one else in this area capable of such atrocities."
"...In the area? I don't see anyone around."
Jane looked around. Roan did the same. There was nothing but the empty plain and the colossal tree.
"Not out here."
Surprisingly, the stronghold of the White Mages was not some building erected on the surface.
"It is underground. If you peel back the bark of the trunk, a path leading down will reveal itself."
It was a hidden facility nestled deep within the roots, far more secretive than they had anticipated.
"Of course, peeling back the bark won't be an easy task. The wood is incredibly massive and dense. We will need chisels, hammers, and a sharp, heavy blade to—"
—*RIIIP!*
"Huh? What the..."
It was torn wide open. Using sheer grip and physical strength, Roan had peeled back the bark—which possessed the density of iron armor—with his bare hands.
"..."
Rowell struck a section of the unpeeled bark with his fist. A dull, stinging pain vibrated through his gauntlet. Yet, the tree remained completely unmarked.
"Oh? There really is a path here. It goes straight down."
...What a lunatic. Rowell muttered to himself.
What was even more absurd was the reaction of the other two.
"All set? Let's head in, then."
"It's surprisingly spacious... and it seems to go quite deep."
Neither of them paid the slightest bit of attention to Roan's monstrous display of strength.
They're all insane... Rowell revised his assessment, labeling the entire trio as lunatics, before following them down.
Rumble...
The massive bark of the tree began to rapidly regenerate, sealing the entrance shut. Rowell, bringing up the rear, instinctively glanced back. Through the closing gap, the human faces embedded in the bark stared blankly down at them. A sudden, icy shiver ran down his spine beneath his heavy armor.
"...Let's get this over with quickly," Rowell muttered, quickening his pace to catch up with the other three.
Creak, creak.
At the bottom of the groaning wooden stairs, they were greeted by five separate doors. Two of them were locked, and one of those was secured with three heavy padlocks.
"...The layout is split."
"They're locked. This one looks important. Should I just rip it open?"
"No!" Rowell immediately objected, shaking his head. "If we make a scene and alert them, they might escape. It is wiser to clear the other rooms first."
"...I hate to admit it, but the hound has a point. We might find some useful information first."
Jane grimaced, clearly loathing the fact that she agreed with him. Belgarde nodded silently in agreement. Since Roan prioritized his companions' safety above all else, they decided to explore the unlocked rooms first.
"So, how are we doing this? Splitting up?"
"Are you seriously asking that?" Roan scoffed. "We stick together. All four of us. Even if it takes longer, safety comes first."
And by "safety," Roan meant keeping everyone securely positioned behind his own back.
"...Hmph. You certainly think highly of yourself."
Roan's protective attitude rubbed Rowell's pride the wrong way. A guy who isn't even wearing armor thinks he can protect me? Although he acknowledged Roan's absurd strength, his pride refused to let him take orders from anyone.
"Don't flatter yourself. You aren't the only one capable of holding a line—especially when you aren't even wearing armor."
Rowell turned and marched toward the nearest door.
"Wait! Cedric Rowell! What do you think you're doing?!"
"What does it look like? You three play nice. I'm working alone."
The moment Rowell threw the door open—
—*SCREECH!*
With an ear-splitting shriek, a grotesque figure lunged straight at him.
"Urgh?!"
Rowell reflexively thrust his sword forward, skewering the creature. Yet, its momentum didn't slow. It continued to thrash and crawl forward, dragging itself along the blade embedded in its chest.
"What... it's still moving?!"
As panic flared in Rowell's eyes, a shadow fell over him. It was Roan. Stepping in front of the knight, Roan casually swung his sword.
—*BOOM!*
Blood and flesh splattered across the walls. The creature hadn't been cleanly sliced in half; it had literally detonated under the sheer impact, crushed to pieces by overwhelming physical force.
Absolute safety. There was no better word to describe the man standing before him.
"...Dammit," Rowell muttered under his breath, quietly stepping back into the formation.
It was the brief, satisfying moment they had successfully tamed the stubborn Hound.