The Descending Goddess
Marquis Edan was one of the Empire’s foremost lightning mages. These days people only knew him as the Director of the Imperial Academy and tutor to the princess, but in his youth he had ridden beside the Emperor across countless battlefields, earning the title “Sword of the Thunder Emperor.”
“Hooo…” He recalled the spell he had cast back at the demonstration hall. He had poured out a significant portion of his own mana along with months of power stockpiled inside the Lightning Stone artifact—an all-out strike. Its strength should have been more than enough to melt an entire section of a castle wall. Serian’s lightning magic had been formidable too, yet he had clearly seen that not a single spark of it harmed the young man.
That was why. It was the first time in years he had shown his magic in front of others, and right in front of the daughter of Arken Elhardt, the hero he had once idolized. Wanting to show off just a little, he had fiddled with the Lightning Stone and—oops—accidentally triggered an aging issue with the artifact. Yet that young man had taken the blow head-on and walked away without a scratch.
“How is that possible… without the slightest damage…?”
A man who had devoted his entire life to the advancement of lightning magic, he felt as if his life’s work had been completely denied. In truth, this could be the worst possible outcome for a lightning mage. After all, a potion that perfectly neutralized even the full power of his lightning magic had been developed! Which meant lightning magic itself would soon become a relic of the past.
The notoriously difficult art of lightning magic, with its limited places to learn and scarce number of teachers, had always ranked high in the Academy freshmen’s “Top 5 Magic I Want to Learn” poll. That prestige was on the verge of collapsing overnight. Before long people might sneer, “Huh? Lightning magic?” “Ahh~ that dogshit spell?” “Isn’t that the one even my grandma in rubber gloves could block?”
He could almost hear the sound of every lightning mage’s livelihood being severed. And yet, even in the face of such catastrophe, Marquis Edan felt strangely calm. Instead of jealousy or crisis, he simply gazed at the dazzling genius standing before him.
“You there!”
Marquis Edan strode forward and seized Serian by the shoulders.
“Have you any interest in learning lightning magic properly?”
“Pardon? I already know how to use lightning magic…”
“Ah! Of course I know your lightning magic is already quite advanced! But! If you were to study under me and absorb everything I know, you could become… the first 10-star lightning mage in the entire history of the Empire!”
Lightning magic remained one of the least researched and most mysterious fields in the Empire. Though Marquis Edan had devoted his life to nurturing the next generation, true talent capable of succeeding him had never appeared. He had vaguely dreamed that if he continued passing on his knowledge, someday—perhaps in his children’s or grandchildren’s time—a 10-star mage would finally be born in this Empire.
Could the heavens have been moved by his devoted efforts? Like fate itself, they had sent him this brilliant genius. A destined intuition struck Marquis Edan. If that genius girl, the Empire’s own flash of light, inherited all the magic he had cultivated throughout his life and devoted herself to further research, then a 10-star lightning mage would be born not after his death, but right before his very eyes!
At his outrageous proposal, Hersene and the rest of the alchemy team swallowed hard.
That old geezer is trying to steal our Chief!
No, you can’t! Our dream of alchemy’s revival!!
A living legend of the Empire’s lightning magic community, a man who had devoted his life to the art, was personally offering to teach her all his secret techniques? This was the opportunity of a lifetime. Mages spent their entire lives researching and training to create more powerful and efficient spell circuits. The know-how to handle stronger magic circuits and greater mana was their life’s greatest asset. Inheriting an entire generation’s worth of knowledge was no different from inheriting the fortune of a major corporation’s owner.
They all knew it. Whether she was imprinting magic runes or casting lightning magic with her bare hands, Serian’s talent was not limited to alchemy alone. The worst possible scenario flashed through the alchemy team’s minds: their hero, the one who would lead alchemy’s revival—Great Rian—being NTR’d by that lightning mage in a nightmare scenario.
After all, they had walked the path of alchemy their whole lives only to be subtly looked down upon as “a discipline for untalented commoners without backing,” forever branded with the label of “the nerdiest of nerd studies.” Unlike alchemy, which earned comments like “You’re going into the alchemy department? You must have partied hard at the Academy,” lightning magic carried an aura of “Whoa—that insanely difficult, ultra-high-level spell!” and “That spell is so freaking cool!”
Surely… she wouldn’t abandon us and go over to them, right?
They were anxious, but they could say nothing. It was like watching a popular senior steal away their best friend without being able to do a thing. They could only watch Serian’s reaction in helpless silence, like mute people who had swallowed honey.
“.....”
Gulp— Inside Marquis Edan’s head, rosy dreams of working with Serian at the Imperial Academy were already blooming. Tears welled in the corners of his wrinkled eyes.
I really am acting like a fool at my age.
He quickly wiped them away before anyone could notice.
Heh heh heh, I should place Serian’s laboratory right across from the director’s office!
He was even prepared to give up the room he had reserved for his favorite disciple.
“…I must decline.”
“Excellent! I knew you would—… What did you say?”
Edan, who had been floating on clouds of expectation, received a cold answer completely unlike what he had anticipated. He was utterly shocked. Really? When so many people were desperate to learn from him?
Marquis Edan could not believe it. Every day, wagonloads of people came seeking his instruction. Yet Serian’s calm voice continued.
“I have already found my own path. I have no intention of walking another.”
At that moment, a thunderous cheer erupted among the alchemy team members. Their hero had not abandoned them! Long live our alchemy goddess! Long live Serian Elhardt!
Marquis Edan fell into despair. He had imagined becoming the teacher of his youthful hero’s daughter and watching her write a new legend of lightning magic for the Empire. But her icy expression made it impossible for him to beg her to reconsider. All he could do was stare at her with eyes dripping with lingering attachment.
However, the truth was that Serian had not even heard his proposal.
This can’t be happening…
My perfect resignation plan… She was simply sinking deep into despair over yet another project that had gone completely, perfectly wrong.
In the Second Prince Kaion’s office.
“What?! It’s already finished?”
Kaion had been reading a letter from Schmidt Territory with a grave expression. At Leon’s report, his eyes widened in surprise.
“Yes, Your Highness. According to Marquis Edan, she endured his full-powered strike—cast with the aid of his personal artifact—without suffering any damage whatsoever.”
Hooo…
Kaion was impressed. The results had come far faster than even he had predicted. The situation in Schmidt Territory had been deteriorating at such an alarming rate that he had nearly given up, but now—!
Kyah…! As expected of the Empire’s hero! My secret friend! The ever-reliable Seri-a-mong!
Once again, Kaion congratulated himself on the divine move of bringing Serian into his camp. Well done, me!
At this rate… we might just make it in time.
“And there is one more thing. Marquis Edan added that…”
“Yes? What did he say?”
“That someday he will definitely make Lady Serian his own person…”
???
“…What does that mean?”
“I am not certain either, Your Highness.”
For a brief moment, an irreverent suspicion crossed Kaion’s mind that the old man might have developed a late-life crush, but he quickly shook it off. Well, it didn’t matter! That wasn’t important right now. If they could prepare the potion quickly and send it, dealing with that high-ranking lightning mage in Schmidt Territory would no longer be difficult…!
“Order them to begin preparations immediately! And… summon the Black Hammer Knights!”
“Just what do you intend to do now!”
In the conference room of Schmidt Territory, an elderly vassal could no longer hold back and shouted at Franz.
“How rude! What kind of tone is that to use with our lord!”
“Punish me if you must! But I must speak for the sake of our family! We cannot endure any longer! If that enemy mage charges in tomorrow, we will have no choice but to surrender both the castle and the entire territory!”
“…..My lord, have you received any word from His Highness the Second Prince?”
Franz had no answer. Everything they said was true. The defensive line had already been pushed to its limit. The enemy mage did not appear in every battle, but whenever he did, lightning rained from the sky and turned the battlefield into ash. Had he appeared every time, the castle would have fallen long ago.
“It may not be too late. Send a messenger to Marquis Hans at once!”
“Would Marquis Hans even come? It is already too late. Given how far we have been pushed, there is nothing more he can do.”
That was correct. Even if the marquis had been willing to help in order to claim their land and territory, the tide of battle had already turned too far. The moment he sent troops from his own domain, he would lose the war and soon lose the power to defend his own lands as well.
“Brother! I will go.”
The conference room door burst open as Franz’s younger sister Matilda rushed in.
“Matilda! What are you doing here!”
“With the castle on the brink of destruction, how can I sit still? If I go right now and promise Marquis Hans marriage, he may send his knight order to us!”
Franz’s eyes trembled. It might already be too late. Yet he could not help thinking that this might be the only path left. No matter how humiliating, they had to survive first, didn’t they? If things continued like this, not only his own life but the lives of his beloved sister and everyone in the territory would be lost. Astra did not leave behind seeds of rebellion that could cause future trouble. That was their way.
Just as Franz swallowed his shame and prepared to make the decision, a bloodied knight burst through the doors.
“The enemy has begun their all-out assault! That mage! He is leading the army himself!”
“Damn it… it’s already too late!”
Franz drew his sword.
“Prepare the Ironclad Knight Order! I will follow shortly!”
Franz stared at the hopeless sight before him. Beyond that hill, at least several thousand Astra soldiers had formed ranks like a swarm of ants. More soldiers than ever had gathered, as if determined to end everything on this land today. Yellow Astra banners fluttered among them. And at their center, a hooded mage sitting atop a horse.
The man who had struck down his older brother Albert Schmidt—a 5-star knight—with a single bolt of lightning, reducing him to ash in an instant. A calamity that had brought victory in every battle he entered. There he was. As always when he appeared, thick dark clouds hung heavily in the sky.
Franz Schmidt stood before his knight order. Deep despair was etched on every face he saw. Their morale had hit rock bottom. Most of them were veteran warriors who had shed blood together with him since childhood. Yet even they felt powerless before a calamity that could not be defied.
Franz drew his sword. His youthful voice rang out.
“Hear me, sons of Schmidt! Behind you stand your families, and beneath your feet lies the land your ancestors defended with their blood! Even if we die here today and become ghosts of the Empire, do not yield even a single inch of ground! Ironclad knights, charge! Sons of Schmidt, resist!”
Bwoooong—!
With the solemn sound of the war horn, Schmidt’s final pride—the Ironclad Knight Order—began their charge. As always, the mage watched them from the hilltop without moving a muscle, surrounded by Astra’s elite knights standing guard like an iron wall.
Franz watched from the rear with a heart full of desperate hope. The reason they had not locked the castle gates and chosen a siege was simple. Relying on the walls would only result in everything being destroyed by a single strike of the mage’s lightning. And they still had one final plan left.
Their plan was this: while the Ironclad Knight Order took every attack with their bodies and carved a path forward, the following archer unit would unleash a concentrated volley at the mage. It was Schmidt’s final gamble, staking everything on a single throw of the dice. The Ironclad Knight Order had resolved that this would be their last mission. Having already cast aside any thought of returning alive, they charged the enemy lines with frenzied momentum.
Spears and swords clashed. Blood sprayed through the air. The martial prowess of those who had guarded the western border for decades was not in vain. The gap between veteran knights and ordinary soldiers was like the difference between heaven and earth. While the knights had trained their entire lives and survived countless battlefields, the enemy soldiers were conscripted youths summoned by mobilization orders. Until they reached the elite knight order protecting the mage, the regular soldiers blocking their path were no match for them.
The Ironclad Knight Order’s desperate, life-risking charge turned into what could only be described as a one-sided massacre against the Astra troops. Finally, just as the knights had nearly reached the base of the hill where the mage stood after breaking through countless enemies—
Rumble—!
The sky roared. A chilling light flashed and spread like lightning between the dark clouds. Everyone on the battlefield trembled with instinctive terror. Craaaack—!
With a horrifying thunderclap, the heavens tore open. Dozens of lightning bolts crashed down into the very center of the archer formation that the knights had been desperately shielding. BOOM—!
White light swallowed everything. When it faded, only scorched black earth and the charred corpses of the archers remained.
It’s over now…
The land that his ancestors had protected with their blood across generations was about to end by his hand. As Franz stood frozen in despair, a soldier’s trembling finger pointed at the sky.
“Look! Look up there!”
Between the dark storm clouds, a single point of light appeared. It grew larger and larger, transforming into the shape of a massive divine beast with silver wings. A Frost Griffin. And standing atop it was a goddess with silver hair streaming in the wind.
Shiiiiiiiii—!
She leapt from the sky. A steel wire shot out from her waist, and she descended at ferocious speed.
“…Goddess…?”
Franz muttered, completely entranced. To the eyes of everyone in Schmidt, she truly looked like a goddess descending from heaven. Wherever the blue meteor passed, screams erupted from the Astra soldiers. As everyone stood awestruck by the miraculous sight, a sound that shook the battlefield thundered across the ground. It was not thunder. It was the sound of hundreds of horse hooves pounding the earth.
“R-reinforcements!”
At the soldier’s shout, hundreds of knights poured over the hill. The black hammer emblem shone clearly upon their black armor.