15.
Healing magic is real.
None of the exalted priests, bishops, or archbishops Lancel had ever met could even imitate anything resembling white magic, but from this moment forward, Lancel could believe that healing magic was possible.
Lancel hurriedly tried to recall what white magic actually entailed.
In its simplest terms, there were three main classifications of white magic.
First, the most basic form of white magic, healing magic. Having already witnessed its effectiveness, Lancel quickly moved on to the other classifications.
Second, the “blessing,” which enhanced the target’s attributes.
“Hah… hah… how much longer do I have to keep this up?”
“Keep running.”
“Ugh!”
On one side, Hesti was running laps around the mansion’s garden, and on the other side, Marigold continued praying, as instructed by Lancel.
“I pray that Hesti’s stamina improves… I pray that Hesti’s stamina improves…”
Lancel knew that the experiment was utterly crude and simplistic, but what else could he do?
Hesti, still in her workout clothes, had already run over twenty laps around the garden and was nearly exhausted.
“Hah…hah, huff… huff…!”
Just when it looked like she might collapse at any moment…
“Huh?”
A change came over Hesti’s expression. Her trembling legs regained their strength, and her unsteady posture straightened. She began sprinting around the garden again with renewed vigor.
This was different from a simple runner’s high. And for good reason.
“An effect?”
Lancel watched as shimmering motes of light began to swirl around Hesti’s now fully recovered body as she ran.
‘It’s a blessing!’
Lancel turned to Marigold, who was sitting beside him, her hands still clasped tightly together, muttering the prayer he had asked her to recite.
“I pray that Hesti grows stronger… I pray that Hesti runs a hundred laps… I pray that Hesti bakes honey bread today… I pray that Hesti…”
It was hardly a proper prayer, but its effect was undeniable. Hesti, who had exhausted her stamina after just twenty laps, suddenly surged past forty laps.
“Young Master, a god has descended upon me! I’m glowing!”
“How astonishing, you really are glowing!”
Hesti, now shimmering as she ran, finally completed eighty laps before collapsing. She would be granted a three-day vacation starting the next day.
Even in magic, there was something called “enhancement magic,” which made it somewhat less distinctive, but it still had its own unique characteristics.
‘It’s all about the visual effects,’ Lancel thought, recalling the light emanating from Hesti’s body. He suspected that this sacred-looking aura was the defining feature of white magic. After all, wasn’t everything ultimately about aesthetics?
The final type of white magic.
Third, was the “attack” or “offense” category of white magic.
Crackle!
“Oh!”
“Something came out! Something flashed, Young Master!”
Baron Ibil Shen and Hesti clasped each other’s hands in awe.
The light that had appeared in Marigold’s palm instantly incinerated a leaf. A scattering of ashes drifted down, reduced to fine powder.
‘Had that hit someone it would have been quite painful.’
The spell seemed utterly pathetic in terms of its offensive power. A single quilted garment would have been enough to block it, limiting the damage to a third-degree burn at most.
Marigold remembered it was effective against the undead, ghosts, and demons, but she had little reason to hunt such creatures—at least not in this life.
Nevertheless, the important thing was that such magic was possible.
==========
—Marigold has begun her initiation into white magic! Her skills are still quite rudimentary!
==========
Marigold has finally mastered all three classifications of white magic.
‘Healing magic is real!’
Indeed, white magic is real.
As surprising as it may be, it was possible.
In this world, there is only one Marigold.
“What else can I do, Disciple Lancel? Just give me the word, and I’ll do it!”
Marigold puffed out her chest, her nostrils flaring with each repeated compliment, like someone whose need for validation had finally been satisfied.
It was a remarkable transformation from the Marigold who had lived a playthrough as a parasitic character with a normal ending leeching off of others.
“If anyone is sick, please send them to me! I will heal them all! From now on, you can trust in me.”
Lancel quietly stroked his chin as he watched Marigold strut around the mansion, brimming with self-assurance.
‘Marigold wielding white magic…’
Two hundred branches of the Holy Maiden Church.
‘I may be able to achieve this soon.’
.
.
.
“The official recognition of the Holy Maiden Church will soon be revoked.”
Lancel couldn’t dismiss the words of the man who appeared wearing a pristine, white hooded cloak.
============
—Encounter event triggered. The Fourth Prince Serild Olivia Freesia has visited the Church of Marigold.
============
“Still, the Martyr’s Church proves to be more useful to the Empire.”
The lips visible beneath the hood curved into a faint smile. Lancel had finally met the frail Fourth Prince, Serild, at a Holy Maiden Church.
16.
That day, Lancel, who attended Marigold’s prayer service at dawn for the first time, was nearly overwhelmed by the size of the crowd.
“I didn’t realize so many people came.”
“It grows every day,” stated Baron Ibil Shen. “We need to expand the building as soon as possible. At this rate, there won’t even be a seat left for me!”
It was exactly as the baron had said, there wasn’t an inch of space to spare. Hundreds of people had gathered, all sitting and facing the central platform.
Soon, Marigold appeared, her eyes covered.
“Today, we offer our prayers once more.”
The countless attendees quietly listened as Marigold murmured the prayer she had memorized.
‘I didn’t even realize how much she’s practically become a landmark of the Imperial Capital.’
In the dimly lit space, Marigold, bathed in light streaming from the ceiling, looked undeniably pious. Though one couldn’t be entirely certain, she seemed to be the kind of figure that would drive religious fanatics to brave the dawn winds just to flock to her.
Watching the devotees gathered outside the building, straining to eavesdrop, was a little overwhelming. Marigold might as well be the most renowned priestess in the capital.
“Therefore, Lancel Dante, you must escort priestess Marigold out of the Imperial Capital.”
This was how Lancel met the Fourth Prince.
“If we revoke the already approved religious order, the backlash will be immense. Do you think the nobles who gather daily to see priestess Marigold will remain silent?”
“The Empire is capable of far more than what the Imperial Family deems necessary.” The Fourth Prince continued, gazing at Marigold with his hands neatly folded.
“The Martyr’s Church is a tool used to prevent this Empire from fracturing into pieces. That’s what sets it apart from other religious orders. However, the Holy Maiden Church is different. Its true master is the priestess, Marigold. Some might find that fact… unsettling.”
Lancel felt the Fourth Prince’s words cut deep.
“…I don’t understand what you mean.”
“You don’t need to understand everything.”
To an ordinary person, such words would be incomprehensible. The Empire, fracturing into pieces?
But Lancel understood this perfectly.
He was a man who had devoted decades to unifying the Empire, a memory from a time when he believed it was his sole mission.
“There’s no need to let a religious order grow too powerful if we can’t control it. Just remember, that’s how the Imperial Palace sees it.”
Lancel remained silent for a moment.
Only the sound of Marigold reciting her prayer echoed through the air.
“If you need any assistance, please let me know. I’ll be glad to help.”
The Fourth Prince’s words seemed sincere. Though physically frail, he was one of the more reasonable figures among the often reckless princes.
Moreover, it was clear that he had visited the Marigold’s more than once or twice, as a rosary carved with the Saintess’s image hung around his neck.
Lancel pondered deeply.
‘I must establish the two hundredth church at any cost.’
It didn’t matter to him what came next. Lancel thought that could simply flee to a quiet place and live there for the next ten years if he needed to.
Given Marigold’s momentum, building the two hundredth church was no longer a daunting task.
All he needed to do was speed things up a little.
“I appreciate your words, Your Highness, the Fourth Prince. I will reach out in the event that I require any assistance.”
“……”
The Fourth Prince gaped at Lancel’s words, momentarily stunned.
“Since when did you realize… No, never mind.” He shook his head with a look of bewilderment.
“Please take good care of the priestess, Marigold.” With those final words, the Fourth Prince departed.
* * *
==========
—Fame Event: The one hundred and fiftieth Church of Marigold has been built!
※Marigold’s Karma has decreased by 1 point.
==========
On the day when Marigold’s karma was reduced to half its number, the streets of the capital were bustling with feverish excitement.
Just one day remained until the final match of the long-awaited Imperial Knights’ Tournament.
The lineup included Lancel Dante, who was set to go against a knight of the Martyr’s Church known as the “Black Armor.”
No one knew the true identity of the Black Armor.
He had appeared midway through the tournament and swiftly advanced to the finals, leaving spectators in awe.
The odds of the final match was as follows: Lancel Dante 1.4x vs. Black Armor 2.6x
The fervor of the Imperial Knights’ Tournament, which had been heating things up in the Imperial Capital of Rodnis, was reaching its peak.
17.
“Mary.”
“Yes, Disciple Lancel.” Mary answered, smoothing back Lancel’s hair.
Each time her small hand brushed through his hair, he felt an inexplicable weariness creeping over him.
“After the tournament, how about we go on a trip somewhere? Somewhere a bit far, it’ll be like a proper vacation.”
“E-eh?”
For some reason, Mary’s body stiffened abruptly.
“R-really?”
“…?”
Lancel stared at her, puzzled by her unexpectedly startled reaction.
‘What could she possibly have misunderstood about the simple suggestion of a trip?’
“W-would it be suitable for someone like me, Disciple Lancel…? You’re a noble after all.”
“…? What does being a noble have to do with it?”
“Haa, hoo, haa, hoo…”
“What’s wrong?”
“Deep breaths, deep breaths…”
Marigold’s expression flickered through a dozen different emotions in rapid succession before she clasped the comb in her hands as if in prayer.
For some reason, the corners of her eyes seemed to tremble.
“I… I’d like that too.”
It was clear she was misunderstanding something, though Lancel couldn’t quite grasp what it was. So, he didn’t bother correcting her. He hadn’t said anything particularly misleading, and she seemed so happy that letting it slide felt like the right thing to do.
“But where are we going?”
“Hmm. Somewhere near the sea would be nice. Living inland, I’ve hardly ever had a chance to see seafood.”
“Seafood? Is that something you eat?”
“If we go near the archipelago…”
Lancel spent the late evening recounting his experiences to Marigold as a wanderer, travelling to many places. She listened intently, her face glowing with excitement.
“Mary, I’ll open your eyes to the world.”
“…Huh?”
Marigold tilted her head at that, puzzled by Lancel’s casual remark. This was his last memory of that day.
* * *
==========
—Fame Event: The one hundred and fiftieth Church of Marigold has been built!
※Marigold’s Karma has decreased 1 point.
==========
Only fifty karma points remained.
Lancel intended to bring things to an end during the final match of the Imperial Knights’ Tournament. He didn’t care what the Imperial Family did to the Holy Maiden Church. Even if they tried to retaliate later, all two hundred karma points would have been cleared by then. What could they possibly do?
For Lancel, Marigold regaining the ability to see again would be enough. He needed nothing more, at least not in this iteration.
He planned to drive the last nail into the coffin during the final match, then he would make his escape with Marigold. Could there be a more perfect plan?
“Enter, Lancel Dante!”
A roar that shook the very foundations of the arena erupted. Lancel strode through the dimly lit tunnel toward the center of the circular arena.
“Lancel Dante! Lancel Dante! Lancel Dante!”
“Don’t let him get away with this!”
As he emerged from the tunnel, the deafening cheers of the crowd washed over him. It was loud enough to hurt his eardrums.
“And his opponent…!”
Lancel watched as a figure emerged from the opposite tunnel.
A man clad in black armor approached, the metallic clanging of his armor echoing through the arena.
His posture, the aura of power he exuded, the concentrated magical powers radiating from him, and the unsettling atmosphere he carried—Lancel felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity emanating from this opponent.
“The Black Armor!”
The armored man slowly removed his helmet.
Lancel let out a hollow laugh.
It was an all too familiar face.
“Beth Wein!”
The name elicited an explosive response from the crowd in the arena.
Beth Wein.
The strongest knight of the Empire.
A man who had vanished and was known to have lived in seclusion.
“I heard you took my disciple down in one blow.”
The swordsman guarding the First Princess.
“Let’s see just how impressive your skills are.”
He was Lancel Dante’s former master.
‘Can I… can I even win this?’
This is going to be tough.
