Chapter 7
The grape-flavored elixir was a huge hit among the villagers.
Just one sip not only healed wounds but even miraculously cured that nagging back pain.
With its delicious taste on top of that, folks figured they could easily live another 50 years with this stuff.
Considering that people in these rural frontier villages typically died around 50, it was like getting a whole second life.
"Mister Magician, that's some amazing stuff you've got there. How much does a bottle cost? Is it worth scraping together every last coin I've got?"
"Well, I'm not sure of the exact price, but I'd say it's worth at least a three-story mansion, wouldn't you?"
"Whew, that's mighty expensive. But are you sure it's alright to give something like that to us?"
The villagers gasped in awe at the outrageous price.
However, Franz had simply made up this price on the spot.
Putting a price tag on an elixir was nonsensical to begin with. He just wanted to instill the notion that it was an extremely valuable item.
The reason elixirs were so expensive was because they were no longer in production.
Dragon's blood was a key ingredient, but the dragons themselves had vanished over 200 years ago.
So even Franz, who knew the recipe, had no way of making more.
All he could do was carefully hoard the 20 bottles he'd stolen from the Demon King's castle.
Was it really okay to drink a 200-year-old elixir?
Well, wine is grape-flavored and so is the elixir, so it should be fine, right?
As he was in the middle of handing out cups of this questionably expired elixir, Franz suddenly felt goosebumps all over his body.
A slimy, unpleasant sensation was transmitted through the mana in the air.
It was a feeling he hadn't experienced once in the past year.
At the same time, it was a sensation he could never forget.
Monsters. Monsters had appeared.
Franz's gaze quickly turned towards the source.
A small hill near the village.
It was where the ominous mana felt strongest.
In truth, Franz had somewhat anticipated this situation.
There was no guarantee that the monsters who had attacked the village before wouldn't show up again.
However, he hadn't expected them to appear right when he was separated from the person he was supposed to be guarding.
He certainly hadn't expected them to encounter each other first.
He'd told her to take a breather, but did she have to go climb up to a high place...!
Well, high places are good for catching your breath, but still...
Anyway, he couldn't just stand by and do nothing.
"Could you please hand these out for me?"
Franz passed the elixir he was holding to a nearby cleric.
Then he immediately began casting a spell.
Magical symbols began to arrange themselves beneath Franz's feet.
The symbols, lined up in a single row, connected at the beginning and end to form a circle.
Multiple distinct circles intersected in complex patterns.
Thus, an intricate magic circle was completed.
As Franz took a step, the moment his foot touched the ground, his figure vanished.
In that split second of taking a step, he had completed a 6th Circle spell.
Those who witnessed this astonishing sight all wore dumbfounded expressions.
The clerics, knowing he was an Archmage, quickly accepted it and moved on.
But the villagers who didn't know this fact murmured amongst themselves for quite a while.
Mages these days sure are amazing, they said.
Then suddenly, a man with a completely bald head spoke up.
"Um, Father, could I possibly have just one more cup...?"
The man was dreaming of escaping baldness through the power of the elixir.
Of course, it was just a dream and nothing more.
Even in this world, baldness was an incurable disease.
* * *
The place where the vanished Franz reappeared was, of course, atop the hill.
A gentle breeze blew softly, and the rustling of grass and trees created a pleasant atmosphere.
The warm sunlight made it the perfect spot for a nap.
Franz could understand why the Saint had bothered to climb all the way up here.
The only problem was the unwelcome guest in this otherwise lovely place.
Franz glanced sideways at the Saint.
She was staring blankly into space with unfocused eyes.
Like someone who had lost the will to live.
He'd sent her to clear her head, but he hadn't expected her emotions to grow so cold.
Still, at least she seemed physically unharmed, so he hadn't arrived too late.
If that was the case, there was only one thing left to do now.
Kill the creature before him.
Franz's gaze turned once again to the monster in front of him.
The monster had taken the form of a wolf.
However, its size was considerable.
In modern terms, it was about the size of four buses put together.
Grrrr-.
It let out an eerie growl, baring its teeth.
Drool dripped from its gaping maw.
Far from being frightened, Franz furrowed his brow in disgust.
The puddle of saliva forming on the ground looked utterly filthy.
After a brief standoff, the monster made the first move.
It moved with incredible speed, belying its massive bulk.
Thud-, thud-.
The ground shook with each step of its paws.
But who was Franz?
A genius among geniuses who had completed 10th Circle magic, something no one since the founder of magic had achieved.
The mage of the Hero's party who had defeated the Demon King and brought peace.
Franz spread his palms facing each other.
Instantly, eight magic circles appeared around the monster.
Transparent walls formed with each magic circle as a vertex, quickly creating a cube.
This transparent cube imprisoned the monster.
As Franz's palms slowly moved closer together, the size of the cube began to shrink.
Sensing danger, the monster desperately tried to escape, but the transparent walls didn't break even under its massive kicks.
And then, clap-.
As Franz's hands came together completely, the monster vanished from the world.
It was a perfect method, without even a drop of blood spilled.
Having resolved the situation, Franz glanced sideways at the Saint.
He wondered if the bleeding-heart would start spouting nonsense again about him being too heavy-handed.
Of course, he had no intention of listening to such idiotic remarks.
Still, hitting the same spot twice seemed a bit much, so maybe he'd go for the left side this time.
Or not? Perhaps she needed at least one molar to eat comfortably?
Fortunately, contrary to Franz's thoughts, no bloodshed occurred.
The Saint showed no reaction at all.
She simply stared at Franz with unfocused eyes.
Given the situation, Franz couldn't help feeling a bit uncomfortable.
Even if the violence was justified, the one who struck usually felt some guilt.
Moreover, thinking about it now, he realized he might have overreacted a bit due to pent-up emotions.
In a world where even cancer cells were considered life, perhaps religious fanatics weren't so bad in comparison.
People tended to become more generous when they cooled down.
Having vented all his anger with that slap, Franz was no different from a saint now.
In the end, Franz decided to apologize to the Saint first.
As he took a step forward, however, he first had to face the Holy Knights who had come to express their gratitude.
"Thank you for saving us."
"There's no need to thank me, as it was my job to begin with. More importantly, I'd like to have a word with the Saint, if I may."
Tension filled the faces of the Holy Knights.
It was because of the recent incident where he had slapped her.
"...I'm not here to fight, so there's no need to worry."
Only after Franz gave this assurance did the Holy Knights step back.
Even then, they kept watch from a distance.
After this bit of trouble, Franz finally faced the Saint.
"Let's talk for a moment."
Franz said this and sat down in a suitable spot.
The Saint then sat down a little distance away.
A gentle breeze blew, and the sound of rustling grass and trees could be heard.
In that tranquility, the Saint gazed blankly at the village landscape.
As the scene resembled the village in her memories, past recollections became increasingly vivid.
The emotion of despair dyed the Saint's heart an even darker shade.
Soon, the silence was broken by the Saint's voice.
"...Why did you save me?"
"Hey, even when you speak, you always... Hah, never mind. I'm sorry for hitting you."
Franz was about to scold the Saint for her tone but decided against it, fearing the conversation might drag on.
Moreover, her unfocused gaze was giving him an uneasy feeling, so he didn't want to provoke her unnecessarily.
If she really turned into a villain, the world would be doomed.
"Why didn't you just let me die? You hate me anyway, don't you? It would have been the perfect opportunity."
The Saint spoke of death as if it were nothing.
She had no purpose in life, and even if she found one, she couldn't live freely due to the shackles of being a Saint.
Her heart, already stained with despair, seemed incapable of ever finding happiness again.
So she was merely living because she couldn't die, with no real desire to live.
Franz sighed at this.
If she had gotten angry, he could have just apologized, but this was far more troublesome.
Well, he might as well answer her question at least.
"It's true that I don't like you. But that doesn't mean I'd let you die."
"You don't like me, but you don't want me to die. That's contradictory."
Just like me, a Saint who hates God.
The Saint swallowed the latter part of her thought.
It was an unnecessary comment.
Instead, she spoke different words.
"Will you help me destroy the world?"
To bring ruin to the world that God loves.