The relief corps from the Theocracy of Bretus entered Rederbelk.
After the initial vanguard of 300, the number of paladins, priests, and relief personnel under their command had swelled to 2,000.
A total of 2,300 people spread throughout Rederbelk to begin relief efforts.
Originally, Priestess Remria had agreed not to interfere with the Empire’s authority, but Princess Aileen had accepted the proposal that they could at least provide aid.
Considering the city’s population exceeded several hundred thousand, 2,300 seemed a small number.
But in a city where violence had been rampant everywhere, Rederbelk began regaining stability with astonishing speed.
One priest calmed more fear than ten guards ever could.
“Religion’s power really is terrifying.”
A guard spat on the ground, watching streets that had been in constant turmoil fall silent as if doused with cold water.
“Some of us break our backs running around trying to keep order with no effect, but one priest shows up, says a few kind words, and everyone settles down? How does that make sense?”
“What choice do we have? We’re not the type to soothe people with words, and we don’t wield holy power like they do.”
“We’ve been putting in no small effort to protect this city too.”
As the guard grumbled, a priest who had just finished relief work passed by, bowed politely, and stepped aside without incident.
The guards exchanged surprised looks.
“He really just walked off without trying anything? Aren’t they supposed to preach here?”
“Reports from higher up say the Lumenis Church is only here for relief right now. Nothing else.”
“I heard that too, but I thought it was a lie. As if a sparrow would pass a grain mill without pecking.”
“But if they’re letting it go like this, maybe it’s true. Maybe they’re not as bad as we thought.”
The wariness toward the Lumenis Church melted away like salt in water, replaced by cautious respect for their sincerity.
Naturally, every detail of this was reported back to Princess Aileen.
“The city is regaining stability quickly.”
“The Church has kept their word—just relief, then they step back.”
“In fact, the number of citizens wanting to become followers of the Lumenis Church is increasing.”
At these reports, Aileen furrowed her brow.
“So. In the end, religion truly is powerful.”
When crime rose, order could be restored with more patrols, harsher punishments, dismantling criminal groups.
But when it came to disasters beyond comprehension, it was different.
If neither the state, nor the guards, nor the knights could protect them, what good were they?
Religion was the opium of the people.
That the Lumenis Church gained such response was natural.
This calamity had been caused by the demon of dreams; of course people would flock to the god who stood as its antithesis.
The influence of religion on society had not rusted one bit, even after twenty years of silence.
“They’re parasites, creeping into hearts anytime, anywhere, devouring from within.”
It was only natural Aileen disliked their presence.
Part of it was her rational temperament, her preference for control over all things. But more than that, the Church itself worried her.
‘In the past, the Church was linked to the very roots of our Empire. Father warned me repeatedly not to touch them carelessly.’
There was something hidden within the Lumenis Church.
That unease made it impossible for Aileen to view them favorably.
Yet she couldn’t deny the effectiveness of their power in times like this.
Even while suppressing her misgivings, she scrutinized their every move.
Looking for the slightest trace of suspicious activity.
‘More than that... where are Commander Lutus Wardot and Archmage Clinton Rothschild, and what are they doing?’
* * *
“Well, this is unexpected.”
Lutus Wardot looked around with disbelief at the place he had arrived.
The massive cathedral that formed the Grand Chapel of Rederbelk.
The diocese of the Lumenis Church in this city.
“I didn’t think you were such a devout believer.”
Naturally, Lutus hadn’t come here of his own accord.
He had been brought here by Clinton Rothschild.
The Empire’s strongest mage—no, the man who had reached the highest peak of all humanity.
“Ha ha. Do I look like someone who believes in gods?”
“Don’t you?”
“I’ve never denied their existence. But gods are gods, and I am myself. The only thing I seek is the pursuit of magic. Have you forgotten that?”
“And what does the pursuit of magic have to do with this place?”
“Ah, that, I can explain.”
A third voice cut into their exchange.
Both Lutus and Clinton turned toward the approaching man.
A handsome middle-aged man with a sly smile.
Lutus scowled.
“Cardinal. What brings you here?”
“Haha. So you know me?”
“You brought an army into this city. How could I not?”
“To be remembered by the Empire’s foremost knight—it humbles me.”
“Spare me the flattery.”
Lutus snorted.
“I want to hear the reason first. Why bring me here separately?”
“Of course. Don’t worry. Once you hear me out, Commander Lutus, you’ll understand.”
Patricio stepped forward to lead them personally.
As they walked the cathedral’s corridors, he began to speak.
“Commander Lutus, are you familiar with the ranks of magicians?”
“I know enough.”
“Of course you do. Then you must also know the level your companion, Clinton here, has reached.”
“He’s no companion, just an acquaintance. Still, I’ve never seen a mage greater than this old man, so you’re not wrong.”
Even as he said it, a certain face flickered through his mind.
Ludger Cherish.
In raw mastery of magic, Clinton was higher.
But when it came to its application?
That idle thought was broken apart by Patricio’s next words.
“A 7th-Circle mage. Among humans, Clinton is the only one to have reached such a level.”
“Why bring that up now?”
“But what if there were another level beyond?”
At that phrase, Lutus halted for a moment.
It was only for an instant, but the surprise on his face could not be hidden.
His eyes slid toward Clinton, walking silently beside him, before shifting away.
“You mean the 8th Circle?”
“Yes. The 8th Circle—[Grander]. A realm spoken of only in legend, its existence uncertain.”
“And why mention that all of a sudden?”
“What if I told you that realm truly exists, and the one who achieved it still lives?”
This time Lutus did not stop walking.
From the moment Patricio began speaking, he had sensed the words were heading this way.
But knowing it in advance did not blunt the impact.
“Someone reached that realm... and still lives?”
“Yes. Alive for a very long time.”
“...Then not a human.”
At Lutus’s remark, Patricio, who had been leading the way, turned for the first time and nodded.
“Correct. Even the name of that realm, ‘Grander,’ is nothing more than a title borrowed from her true name. In other words, the 8th Circle is itself a synonym for her.”
“So.”
Lutus’s aura swelled slightly as he asked:
“Why bring her up here, now?”
“You’ll see soon enough.”
Clinton was the one who answered instead.
Before long, Patricio arrived before a massive door.
“Here it is.”
As Patricio approached, the door opened on its own.
From the crack of the opening, an overwhelming density of energy poured out.
A heavy stench of blood, aged as if it had been ripening for centuries.
With his sharpened senses, Lutus instinctively drew up his aura, frowning.
But when he saw Clinton doing nothing, he naturally suppressed it again.
“You’ve got quick instincts.”
A voice drifted out from beyond the darkness of the door crack.
They had thought that she, one who had lived for so long, must be some sort of hideous monster—but the voice was strangely clear and pure.
What was even more astonishing was that beyond the crack, it wasn’t darkness at all.
‘It’s simply that the density of the aura is so high, nothing can be seen.’
Focusing his eyes, only then could he make out the space inside the door.
A golden-haired girl sat there, waiting to receive her guests.
She was small and doll-like, impossibly cute—hard to believe she could be the master of the overwhelming aura filling the chamber.
‘It’s as if something colossal has shrunk itself down and taken the form of a little girl.’
Such was the intensity of her presence—Grander.
Lutus felt his fingertips trembling.
His fascination with the strong, his thirst for contest, began to rise within him.
And the same curiosity flickered in the other side as well—Grander herself.
“Ohh. The strongest human mage, the strongest human swordsman. And one disgusting creature thrown in as well.”
“Haha. Disgusting, you say? That’s a bit harsh. Surely we could become good trade partners.”
“Silence.”
Grander’s red eyes fixed on the three of them.
“So. Can you give me what I want?”
Between her slightly parted crimson lips, sharp fangs flashed.
“If you’ve summoned me here, you’d best have an answer worthy of that act.”
* * *
“Come in.”
Ludger entered Gariel’s hideout.
The room, untouched by cleaning for who knows how long, was piled high with books, bundles of papers, and layers of dust.
Though the space was fairly large, there was hardly anywhere to step. Ludger shot Gariel a cold look.
“Don’t you ever try tidying up?”
“No. It’s a pain. As long as there’s a place to lie down and sleep, that’s good enough.”
Gariel scratched at his shaggy hair as he replied.
“Here, sit down. You’re still a guest, so I’ll at least play the host.”
“The moment you tell me to sit in a dump like this, any hosting is out the window.”
Ludger’s expression chilled at the sight of the long-neglected, squalid room.
It was more fit for a recluse than a proper home.
For someone as orderly and clean as Ludger, it was nearly unbearable.
Ssshh.
Ater Nocturnus, holding Rine in its arms, hesitated before quietly settling into a corner of the room.
Gariel, sipping at a steaming cup of coffee, glanced at Rine, who lay unconscious like she had fainted.
So intently was he focused on her that he tilted his cup too far.
“Hot!”
“Drink slowly. Nobody’s going to steal it.”
“...Tsshh. Haa. Fine, let’s hear it then. Why the hell are you here, and what happened to Rine?”
Just as Ludger could not fully understand Gariel, Gariel could not fully understand Ludger.
Ludger explained everything that had happened up to now.
As Gariel listened, his expression shifted moment by moment, until at last he let out a sigh.
“...I honestly don’t know what to say. A demon of dreams, and Rine recovering all her sealed memories there?”
“Not all. Only fragments. But among those fragments...”
“The memory that you killed my sister.”
At Gariel’s sharp remark, Ludger did not reply.
Gariel opened his mouth to say more, then shook his head.
“No... I’m sorry. You must have had your reasons.”
“It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change the fact that it was my doing.”
“For now, we need to solve the immediate problem. Rine’s mana has run out of control far faster than we anticipated. That means we don’t have much time left.”
“But we did gain something.”
They had finally understood exactly what kind of mana Rine had, long thought to be Non-Attributed.
“Right. Spatial magic.”
“What do you think? As a time mage, you should have some insight into space.”
“Ha. Me? I may be a time mage, but only half a one. Time itself has too many strict limits.”
Time magic was riddled with restrictions—far too many.
It was suited not for fighting but for fleeing from fights.
Even if one stopped time inside a locked room, there was no way to escape the room.
Gariel had never once thought his magic was especially great.
At first, it hadn’t been that way.
When he first learned magic from his master, he had been ecstatic, soaring with joy.
But as he practiced and saw the limitations firsthand, as his mind stiffened, he realized brutally just how incomplete it was.
“To master this magic, I had to abandon everything else.”
Time magic forced its wielder to devote everything solely to the [Time Attribute].
Even talents for other attributes were consumed, stretching the ‘hexagon’ of magical ability grotesquely long on one side.
Had things gone normally, Gariel could have reached at least the 5th-Circle across multiple fields—but in exchange for time magic, he could only wield the 1st-Circle in all others.
“That’s not the point. To suppress Rine’s mana, we’ll need a very powerful curse.”
“A curse, huh. To restrain power that transcends space, ordinary curses won’t cut it.”
“That’s why we’ll need the strength of a black mage.”
“Perfect. This island is crawling with them.”
Gariel shrugged, then added under his breath:
“Or at least, it was until ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) just recently.”