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Chapter 5

Chapter 5: The Saint Really Dislikes the Mage

Though it was technically a dispatch, for Franz, it was essentially his first outing in about a year.

He had finally escaped the desolate and stifling den of magic-crazed individuals, and could at last see up close the scenery he had only viewed through windows for the past year.

Due to his position as Tower Master, he couldn't show it outwardly, but he was naturally in high spirits.

Of course, when he returned to the tower, he would have to face Arian's wrath head-on.

He decided not to think about that for now. It was a problem for later.

For now, he would savor this freedom.

However, the cultists ended up ruining Franz's outing.

It had been a whole year. Though it might not compare to the one who had eaten only dumplings in prison, it was still enough time to drive a person mad.

So it was only natural that Franz was in a foul mood.

There was also too much accumulated stress to just let it slide.

After working without a single day off, he was finally about to get some rest, and they couldn't resist interfering?

'You're all dead today.'

Franz rose, a deep furrow forming between his brows.

He gently opened the carriage door and stepped out.

He wanted to smash the door as he exited, but he couldn't since the carriage belonged to the Goddess Church.

It wasn't the first time they had received complaints about dispatched magicians causing trouble.

As the saying goes, "clear water flows from the source," those in higher positions should set a good example for those below them to follow.

Or is that not the case?

Would they really behave well just because I do?

Franz momentarily questioned this but decided to let it go.

Let's just say it's for the best. At least he wouldn't have to listen to Arian's nagging.

Anyway, it was now time to deal with those damned cultists.

Franz quickly assessed the situation.

There were roughly twenty individuals wearing black cloaks, advertising themselves as cultists.

And the Goddess Church's Holy Knights were facing off against them in similar numbers.

'Fourteen.'

Surprisingly, when it came to sheer strength, the cult ranked quite high as an organization.

While it varied greatly depending on individual capabilities, this was generally the case.

Not all magicians who believed in the Goddess Church became clergy, but when a magician believed in the cult, they inevitably became a cultist.

In comparison, the Holy Knights were truly a noble group composed of only those with exceptionally deep faith.

So while their faith might be strong, they weren't particularly powerful.

If you excluded their sexual practices, wouldn't the cultists actually have deeper faith?

They were literally bordering on madness.

Losing in both faith and skill.

Is the Goddess Church's Holy Knight Order really okay like this?

As Franz continued these idle thoughts, he suddenly sensed the flow of mana.

Six from the Holy Knight side, eight from the cultist side.

A total of fourteen magicians were simultaneously attempting to use magic.

The flow of mana that started from their fingertips drew bizarre shapes, those shapes came together to form spell formulas, and multiple spell formulas combined to create magic circles.

Seven 2nd Circle spells and seven 3rd Circle spells...

Three fire attributes, four wind attributes, two earth attributes, five water attributes...

Just as the magic circles were nearing completion and the flow of mana was about to intensify.

Snap-.

Franz snapped his fingers.

Instantly, the fourteen nearly completed magic circles scattered into the air.

Anti-Magic.

A spell that converts the opponent's magic back into mana.

In just a few seconds, Franz had analyzed and grasped fourteen spells, sending out a mana flow to counter them.

It was a truly miraculous feat, impossible without memorizing countless magical shapes and spell formulas.

"Huh...?"

"W-What's going on?!"

"Why, why is this happening?!"

Murmurs began to spread among the magicians.

Some tried to use magic again, but Franz easily nullified it with Anti-Magic.

Amidst this, a shout came from the cultist side.

"I-It's Franz!! The Great Magician Franz is here!!"

Admirably, there was someone among the cultists who remembered Franz's face.

In fact, it was only natural that they remembered.

To cultists who served the Demon God, the hero party that had subjugated the Demon King was the very embodiment of treason.

The cultists' gazes instantly turned towards Franz.

The bloodlust they emitted as fanatics was quite fierce.

However, it lasted only for a brief moment.

As Franz made a light gesture in the air, the heads of nearly twenty cultists all fell to the ground.

The act of killing humans.

It was an action that naturally evoked revulsion in fellow humans, but for Franz, who had experienced countless battles of slaughter, it was all too ordinary.

As the headless bodies collapsed to the ground, the red blood that flowed out stained the earth.

The clergy uniformly turned their heads away from the horrific scene.

Occasionally, those with weak stomachs even dry-heaved.

Among them, there was only one person who silently observed the scene.

It was the Saint, who, like Franz, had experienced countless battlefields.

The Saint's sharp gaze slowly turned towards Franz.

She approached Franz with purposeful strides and spoke accusingly.

"You, did you really have to go this far?!"

At that moment, a familiar window appeared between Franz and the Saint.

<Warning!>

<Saint Yustia's emotions are running wild! If left unchecked, it could negatively impact the ending!>

It was a window visible to Franz's eyes, but invisible to the Saint's.

Franz felt anger rising within him.

Here he was, trying his best to prevent the world from heading towards destruction, while the Saint, who was actually involved, couldn't even see the guidance window and was acting on her own.

Moreover, the Saint's hypocritical attitude had long been a source of irritation for him.

Franz pushed the guidance window aside and voiced the emotions he had been bottling up for a long time.

"Then what should I have done? Cultists are burned at the stake when caught anyway. Didn't I actually give them an easier way out? And even if I hadn't done it, they would have died by the Holy Knights' hands. Instead of thanking me for dirtying my hands in place of your believers, why are you getting angry?"

"But they're lives! Did you feel even a shred of pity when you took all those lives?! You've always been like this! You've taken countless lives without a single moment of remorse!"

It was a clash between someone trying to put idealism into practice and someone numbed by the harsh reality.

The problem was that it happened to be between the Saint and the Tower Master, so no one dared to step in and mediate.

"You really need to face reality..."

Franz was about to say more but stopped when he realized all eyes were on them.

He couldn't inconvenience the group with his personal feelings.

Even at this moment, there were probably people waiting for aid, and he couldn't allow the schedule to be delayed.

As Franz averted his gaze, the Saint understood the meaning and likewise stopped speaking.

Just before boarding the carriage, she spoke in a low voice.

"I've always hated that about you."

Look who's talking.

Franz boarded the carriage, exhaling those words as a sigh instead.

Clatter-.

A faint vibration was felt, and soon the carriage departed.

<Saint Yustia 0.00%>

Franz stared blankly at the guidance window before letting out another long sigh.

A moment of anger had reset everything back to zero.

Still, there was some gain.

He discovered that the percentage could also drop below zero.

Not that he particularly wanted to know that.

Well, finding out with just 5% wasn't too bad of a deal, I suppose.

'I wonder if it would come back if I apologized...'

Franz found himself oddly regretting that 5%.

And since being at odds with the Saint would only disadvantage him, he needed to improve the situation.

Is this what they call a relationship between superior and subordinate...?

Franz felt wronged.

* * * * *

The caravan of carriages arrived at the village, and the full-scale relief efforts began.

The state of the village was no laughing matter, even as a joke.

As was typical for remote rural villages, this one had suffered a monster attack, making the situation even worse.

Not a single building was intact, and the farmland that should have been green was covered in monster footprints.

Given the circumstances, villagers swarmed the relief team as soon as they arrived.

The clergy also moved busily, and the relief supplies they brought quickly disappeared.

The number of patients injured by monsters was also considerable, so the Saint had to move quickly as well.

Amidst all this bustling activity, Franz's assigned task was repairing collapsed buildings.

Normally, he should have been guarding the Saint, but the clergy who had witnessed their earlier fight reassured him it was fine, offering a gesture of consideration.

However, seeing the terrible state of the village, Franz couldn't just sit idle, so he volunteered to take charge of building repairs.

As a result, Franz missed the opportunity to apologize and felt unnecessarily frustrated.

Channeling those feelings into a sigh, he waved his hand, causing the construction materials to fit together perfectly on their own.

"Oh... mister magician, your skills are incredible... You could be a Tower Master...?"

"Ahaha... Thank you."

Actually, I am the Tower Master, sir.

How much time has passed since then?

By the time Franz had finished repairing all the buildings, a small child approached him and said:

"Mister Magician, something's wrong with the Saint."

Hey now, calling me mister.

I'm only in my mid-twenties, you should call me big brother.

Anyway, that aside.

"Something's wrong with the Saint?"

"Yes..."

Franz found the child's gloomy expression strangely ominous.

So he immediately headed to where the Saint was.

"Saint... that person is already..."

"They were alive just a moment ago! Surely, surely there must be some way! Please, please...!"

The Saint's ideals had collided head-on with the enormous wall of reality.

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