I Realized My Genre After 20 Years.
It all began with a single comment from a close junior.
"Jinah-hyung, you play a lot of games, right? Our company is working on a new project, can you take a look at it? I'll send the file by email."
There wasn't any particular reason to refuse.
Just like he said, I usually enjoyed playing games.
And since I was in the middle of switching companies, I had plenty of free time.
How great it was to enjoy a game and help out a close junior at the same time.
A few days later, an email arrived from him.
When I opened the game file, it started right away without any kind of intro, likely because it was still unfinished.
The game content was roughly like this:
Use magic to hunt monsters, learn new magic, then use that magic to hunt more monsters.
As far as combat went, it was quite satisfying.
There were various magic attributes, and the effects were flashy and visually pleasing.
It was a bit disappointing that there was no story, but that could be added little by little later.
Jinah passed on those thoughts directly to his junior.
"That's a relief. I'll let you know once we officially release it."
"Sure, hang in there."
Since it was fairly fun, he was looking forward to the official release.
And so, one day, two days.
A month passed, and then nearly a year.
No matter how long he waited, there was no news, so Jinah called his close junior.
And what he heard was shocking.
"Oh right. That project was scrapped. The higher-ups just didn't like it."
What the hell…?
For the past year, Jinah had played the unfinished game countless times while waiting for the official release.
He'd gotten so good at it, he could probably clear it with his eyes closed and using his feet.
And this was all he got for that anticipation? It was hard to believe.
It's not like I can demand they make the game…
It's not like game development costs just a few bucks.
Even if he pushed, it wasn't something that could be forced into being.
So what could he do? All he could do was accept it.
That night, Jinah resolved to let go of the game.
There was no reason to cling to an unfinished game that would never be officially released.
But then, something strange happened.
What… is this?
The game file had changed into something else.
The icon was different, and "ver2" was added to the name.
As if possessed, his mouse moved on its own.
And finally, click—
The world went dark.
That was how he ended up possessed in another world.
When he opened his eyes again, a strange ceiling greeted him.
And thus began the life of Franz Gilbert, the youngest child of a baron family (age 7)!
***
Since he had a decent understanding of subculture, he at least knew what one was supposed to do in this kind of situation.
"Status window!"
A translucent display granting the protagonist a miraculous means to overcome adversity was one of the most common tropes.
But it seemed Franz didn't even get that common setup.
"…"
Franz Gilbert (age 7) fell into deep disappointment!
But it didn't last long.
When he thought about it, didn't most of the guys with status windows start off on damp streets anyway?
In exchange for not having a status window, he was born as the youngest son of a baron, waking up in a fluffy bed each morning. Not bad at all.
Plus points for being well-fed.
Another plus for being part of a baron family that had a tradition of wielding magic.
In the end, the score graph in his heart rose from the depths into the sunlight.
And thus, Franz made a full recovery!
Strictly speaking, the fact that he'd been transported to another world should've tanked his score, but Franz's miraculous mindset of "don't dwell on what's already happened" achieved a splendid turnaround.
In any case, the given situation wasn't bad, so if he failed, it would be entirely his own fault.
So in the end, all he could do was work hard.
And just like that, Franz truly worked hard.
* * *
Age 7.
He scored 100 on a spelling test and rose as the family's ace.
Tried sneaking into his father's study to learn magic and got caught and scolded.
Apparently, his mana hadn't stabilized yet, so he had to wait until he turned 10.
* * *
Age 8.
He conquered multiplication, and his mother passionately claimed, "He'll become a great mage!"
The connection between multiplication and magic was…
Yeah, who knows what the connection was.
Why his mother became a "great mage believer" still remained a mystery.
* * *
He started learning 1st Circle magic and realized his own talent.
Water, fire, wind, earth, light, darkness.
He had an affinity with every elemental attribute in existence.
On top of that, magic was so fun that he quickly mastered the 1st Circle spells.
***
Age 13.
He began learning 3rd Circle magic and even started modifying the core structure and spell formulas of 1st Circle magic.
The people around him gradually began to believe what his "great mage believer" mother had been saying.
Thanks to that, he became the center of everyone's expectations, but he didn't feel pressured.
He performed even better when he was supported.
***
Age 15.
He started learning 5th Circle magic and officially entered the ranks of mid-tier mages.
A storm swept through the nobility with the appearance of the youngest 5th Circle mage.
His mother was promoted from "great mage believer" to "mother of a future great mage."
* * *
Age 16.
He finally set foot in the Magic Tower.
Honestly, based on talent alone, he could've entered long before. But because the Tower had an age restriction, he was admitted a bit late.
Around this time, he began to feel something strange.
If this really was the world of that game he used to play so often, then monsters should have appeared by now.
But the Demon King had been sealed a hundred years ago, and there were no monsters to be found anywhere in the world.
So does that mean a hundred years had passed since that point?
There were still far too many unknowns.
***
Age 17.
At last, something happened.
The seal that had kept the world in peace for the past hundred years was broken, and the Demon King was unleashed.
Because of that, monsters began appearing everywhere, and a storm of blood swept the land.
The Magic Tower was busier than ever.
From monster subjugation missions to rescue operations for the people, there was no time to even blink.
And around this time, he realized—
It wasn't that a hundred years had passed since the game's timeline. The game hadn't even started yet.
* * *
Age 18.
A hero destined to save the world appeared, and a party formed around that hero.
The Hero, the Mage, the Saint, and the Elf Archer.
Franz proudly took his place as the Mage in the Hero's Party.
Truthfully, it wasn't something he volunteered for.
It was just that the old geezers at the Magic Tower, envious of his young talent, had thrown him into a death trap.
They praised him, calling him the pride of the Tower and whatnot, making it impossible to say no.
Just yesterday, they were whining about how his only redeeming quality was being young and talented, and now this.
But well, what could he do? It had already happened. If he wanted to stay alive, he'd just have to kill the Demon King first.
Please, Hero, be strong—!
Thus began the prayer meta.
* * *
Age 20.
Perhaps the gods had heard Franz's prayers.
With Yuna (age 18, the Hero) leading the way, the Hero's Party achieved a series of sweeping victories.
Every enemy they faced, cut down in a single stroke! She was practically a living monster-slayer.
If there was a problem, it was that the party members had somewhat nasty personalities. But who cared? After defeating the Demon King, they wouldn't have to see each other again anyway.
Oh, and during that time, he also mastered 7th Circle magic.
The hardships and trials of the Hero's Party had clearly helped him grow.
* * *
Age 22.
They defeated one of the Demon King's Four Heavenly Kings.
During the fight, the Hero's arm was severed, but the Saint grumbled and reattached it.
It was nothing short of a miracle from the gods.
* * *
Age 24.
They defeated another of the Four Heavenly Kings.
The battle lasted nearly three days and nights.
* * *
Age 26.
The Demon King and two of the Four Heavenly Kings attacked together.
It was a moment when the Hero's Party was in grave danger from the enemy's coordinated assault.
Franz used a forbidden spell that consumed his own life force.
And thus, the 10th Circle magic was completed.
A hidden spell said to be usable only by the founder of magic.
Thanks to that, the Hero's Party gained time to recover, and in the end, the war between humans and demons ended in victory for humanity.
Thanks to the Saint's miracle, Franz came out unscathed.
Except for losing about a year or two of his lifespan.
After everything was over, Franz returned to the Magic Tower.
And proudly claimed the position of Tower Master.
The old geezers frowned like their guts were twisting, but what could they do?
He had been an active member of the Hero's Party and had completed the legendary 10th Circle magic, he was a living legend.
Franz, no, Jinah, had known the story only up to this point.
Hunt monsters to strengthen magic, then defeat the final boss, the Demon King, and the end.
So then, could he return to his original world now?
Or was there something else beyond that?
While pondering these things, a year passed.
The world was still struggling with the remnants left behind by the Demon King, and the Magic Tower was busy helping to restore it.
Franz was now 27 years old.
Exactly twenty years had passed since he transmigrated into this world.
He finished his Tower Master duties for the day and laid down in bed to sleep.
Huh…?
That's when he saw something strange in front of his eyes.
A translucent blue window.
When he needed it, it never appeared, and now here it was.
But… what's with this content?
* * *
『Save the world from the villainesses who will lead it to ruin!
Hero Yuna (0.00%)
Saint Justia (0.00%)
Elf Archer Hera (0.00%)
If you fail, the world will fall into destruction!』
* * *
"…Fuck."
A long-overdue curse rolled off his tongue with ease.
Chapter 2
Hero's Party was actually a party of villainesses
In the world Franz had lived in, there was something called a cliché.
A term used for story elements and developments so predictable in novels or films that anyone could see them coming.
For example, a character who says, "Let's get married after this war is over," is guaranteed to die.
Or the seemingly weak, always-squinting character who turns out to be hiding immense power.
If a Demon King exists to throw the world into chaos, then naturally, a Hero exists to oppose him, that too was a classic cliché.
And the Hero gathering a party to subjugate the Demon King, and then everyone laughing together in a happy ending once it was all over, that was also part of the standard Hero narrative cliché.
So what about this world?
There was a Demon King and a Hero, and the Hero formed a party and went on a journey to defeat the Demon King. That party succeeded in defeating the Demon King.
Though peace hadn't fully returned yet, people were working tirelessly, and it was only a matter of time before peace was restored.
So this world could very well be described as the embodiment of a Hero narrative cliché.
But now, the strange translucent display floating before Franz's eyes was completely denying all of that.
* * *
『Save the world from the villainesses who will lead it to destruction!
Hero Yuna (0.00%)
Saint Justia (0.00%)
Elf Archer Hera (0.00%)
If you fail, the world will be destroyed!』
* * *
It was the first time he had seen something like this in the 20 years since his possession.
Thinking of all the days he had cried out "Status window!" in vain brought tears to Franz's eyes.
It wasn't a proper status window, but a translucent display was close enough.
Once he had calmed the emotions that had suddenly surged up—
Franz looked at the guide window again with a cool gaze.
And immediately, another surge.
No matter how you looked at it, twenty years was too much.
Sigh—
Finally, having vented his emotions in two waves spaced a decade apart, Franz was able to regain his composure with a deep breath.
He began analyzing the display in front of him.
"Hmm…"
Save the world from villainesses who will lead it to destruction.
Judging from the context, it seemed the three names listed below were the villainesses fated to bring about the world's end.
The names were all too familiar.
Even the titles before their names matched, so it couldn't be a case of coincidental name overlap.
Franz was puzzled.
Sure, their personalities were rotten, no, very rotten, but calling them villainesses who would destroy the world seemed like a stretch.
The fact that they'd participated in the Hero's Party and fought to save the world was proof enough, wasn't it?
…Or maybe not? Now that he thought about it, most of the Hero's Party had been forced into joining.
Either way, from Franz's memory, the Hero's Party may have been full of jerks, but they weren't the type to bring about the end of the world.
Next were the percentages beside their names, which he assumed indicated progress, either in subjugating or redeeming the villainesses.
He wasn't sure which it was supposed to be.
But the real problem lay in the last line.
"If you fail, the world will be destroyed!"
In other words, if he failed, the world would go down, and he'd go with it.
Sure, the first line said something similar, but "These girls are world-ending villainesses" and "You die if you mess this up" hit very differently.
In the end, it was this:
He'd thought this world was a Hero narrative, but that had only been the prologue.
In movie terms, this was the moment when the lion lets out a slow-motion roar.
The real story was just beginning, and it was a death game, with his life on the line.
Still, what was done was done. He'd just have to deal with it somehow.
Well then, let's start with this one.
Franz began writing a letter.
* * *
After thinking about it all night, Franz reached a single conclusion, the guide window was unbelievably unhelpful.
Normally, even in RPGs, quests came with various conditions.
But this one just threw a goal, Save the world, and a list of villainesses at him, then told him to figure out the rest.
Where in the world was that ever considered acceptable?
Thud—
As Franz was thinking this, a massive pile of paperwork was dropped onto his desk.
From relief applications from rural villages to renovation permits for the Tower's laboratories.
All of it had to be completed today, so it was only natural that a deep furrow formed between Franz's brows.
Another day of guaranteed overtime.
"You can make that face all you want. Doesn't change anything. Who told you to become Tower Master in the first place?"
The one coldly delivering sharp criticism with an emotionless face was his personal secretary, Ariana.
Yes, the Tower Master was a lofty position that allowed him the luxury of having his own secretary!
But, contrary to what 21st-century people might imagine when they hear the word 'secretary,' none of that ever happened.
Instead, her expressionless face dished out sharp jabs on a daily basis, and at first, it was more than enough to chip away at his self-esteem.
Even so, the reason Franz had no choice but to keep Ariana by his side—
Was because she was extremely good at her job.
Not just good. Extremely, extremely good.
She was flexible enough to handle most tasks on her own, and meticulous enough to take care of even the things the Tower Master forgot. She was, quite literally, the ideal secretary.
On top of that, Ariana had been his colleague since the very beginning, back when Franz first arrived at the Magic Tower.
She was efficient, and they were close. Which made her sharp criticisms all the more valid.
Of course, by now, Franz was so used to it that it didn't bother him anymore.
He just accepted it as part of his daily routine.
"Here, deliver this."
Exchanging it for the documents she handed him, Franz passed Ariana an envelope.
At that, Ariana tilted her head slightly in confusion.
"Saint Justia of Saint Serphia Cathedral…?"
"Yeah, deliver it for me."
Franz simply wanted to assess the situation.
Even if the display called her a villainess, he needed to understand what was going on before taking any action.
That was why he chose the Saint first.
Among the Hero's Party, she was, barely, the most human in personality, and had even granted them a miracle in the end. A benefactor of sorts.
Although, that was basically like picking the least harmful demon from a group of demons.
Well… maybe "demon" was too harsh for the Saint?
Anyway.
But Ariana didn't seem thrilled with the request.
"Tower Master, what was it that you used to always say back when you were just a member of the Tower? 'Don't shove your work onto others just because it's not yours.' 'Brew your own tea.' 'Five-day work weeks! Leave on time!' 'No using assistants for personal errands!' 'Company dinners are just unpaid overtime!'—that's what you said. And now you want me to deliver a letter? Isn't using your secretary for personal business a bit over the line?"
Ariana furrowed her brows as she rattled off the words.
Surprisingly, every single thing she said was true, but Franz still felt a bit wronged.
When he first entered the Magic Tower, it was a place overflowing with an even worse hierarchical mess than the military.
Everyone was quick to dump their work on subordinates, and even with all limbs intact, they'd order someone else to bring them tea.
On days when an experiment failed, the standard punishment was "Everyone under me, and over you, gather."
Maybe that kind of behavior was acceptable at a mid-tier magic association, but this was the Magic Tower, the largest and most powerful of its kind.
Franz, who had expected 21st-century corporate-level welfare, naturally rebelled.
As a result, he earned the ire of the old geezers in the Tower, but in the end, he became the Tower Master, so you could say it all worked out.
Of course, he never imagined he'd have his own words thrown back at him by his secretary.
Still, it wasn't like he had no options.
"If I deliver it myself, it'll take quite a while. And you do know that if I work late, you can't leave either, right?"
A secretary always leaves after their superior.
So, if the Tower Master leaves late, it naturally means the Tower Master's secretary leaves late too.
That would be a fatal blow to Ariana, who highly valued leaving work on time.
"…Ha. So now you're threatening me with my own working hours. I miss the Franz who used to be so full of justice. Well, fine. I'll consider this an official duty and deliver it."
Though she added a few unnecessary comments, Ariana finally let out a short ahem and turned on her heel, walking out of the Tower Master's office.
If she didn't like it, she should've become the Tower Master herself.
And so, Franz racked up another victory for the day…
But as he lowered his gaze to the massive stack of documents on his desk, a sigh escaped him.
Once again, today was practically guaranteed to end in overtime.
* * *
Saint Serphia Cathedral, the so-called stronghold of all religious figures.
Within its vast and extravagant halls, if one had to name the most famous figure, it would undoubtedly be Saint Justia.
She had joined the Hero's Party and endured countless hardships, and was the only one able to hear the voice of the gods and perform miracles.
But in truth, she had never wanted any of it.
To the small girl who only occasionally offered prayers, everything felt unbearably overwhelming.
She never asked to be called a saint.
It was the gods who chose her arbitrarily and gave her power.
Still, too many people now sought her guidance.
They wanted to hear the voice of the gods through her.
Every single day was like hell.
No matter where she went, eyes followed her, she had no freedom. Her clothes, the water she drank, the food she ate, none of it was her own choice.
As her days wore on, Saint Justia began to think:
If I had known the world would be like this, I wouldn't have saved it.
Just then, an attendant handed her a letter.
The sender: Franz Gilbert.
Mage of the Hero's Party, and now the Tower Master.
Seeing the name, Justia flinched.
Then she carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the letter inside.
Chapter 3
The Saint Hates the Mage.
The Saint recalled the past.
The days when she traveled alongside everyone as the Saint of the Hero's Party.
The time they took shelter in a cave to escape the rain in the mountains.
The time the Hero accidentally ate a poisonous mushroom and staggered around all day.
The time they lay on a wide hillside and stared up at the night sky full of stars.
Though hardship and adversity came with it, those days held a certain joy of their own.
Just thinking back on them brought a faint smile to the Saint's lips.
But once she emerged from the memories, what greeted her was the harsh reality.
"Saint, your break is about to end."
"Yes, I know."
Snapped out of her pleasant thoughts by the attendant's words, the Saint felt her anger surge, but as always, she held it back and replied gently.
Because this, surely, was the kind of Saint people expected her to be.
One who harbored not a single impure emotion.
One who embraced all people with love.
One who sacrificed herself for the sake of the world.
There was no room in that image for a small girl named Justia.
Only the divine messenger of the gods existed.
The Saint reached for the water placed before her to soothe her resentment, but stopped upon remembering it had been prepared by the attendant.
Regretfully, the letter from Franz would have to wait a little longer.
Just as the attendant had said, her break was nearly over.
Rising from her seat, the Saint left her room.
And greeted the countless worshippers who came to serve the gods.
* * *
A long time passed like that.
Late at night, when the attendants had finally left and she was truly alone, the Saint took out Franz's letter.
Now that there would be no interruptions, she planned to read it carefully.
But—
There was nothing to read.
『So, how have you been?』
That one line, written boldly on a large sheet of stationery, was all there was.
For a moment, the Saint stared at the letter blankly, dumbfounded, and then flipped it over, just in case.
But the back side was completely blank. Not a single mark.
"…No way."
There was no way the Tower Master would send a letter like this.
Especially to someone like her, the Saint. He should've paid more attention.
It was the first message in a whole year. At the very least, a proper greeting…
Thinking that, the Saint brought the letter near the candlelight.
She remembered Franz once telling her about a strange type of ink that would only appear when exposed to heat.
But no matter how long she waited, the letter only blackened and burned, no words appeared.
Not this either?
She lightly bit her lower lip.
Then—splash—she poured water over the letter.
Franz had also once told her about ink that revealed itself when wet.
But the letter just got soaked through. No text appeared.
Only then did the Saint realize.
That the words written in this letter, the one and only letter sent after an entire year, amounted to nothing more than that one short line.
Hah…
A hollow laugh escaped her lips. Her brow furrowed tightly in frustration.
Right. He's always been like this.
In truth, her relationship with the Mage during their time in the Hero's Party had never been very good.
Even as a Saint, she had been little more than a country girl from the outskirts, barely capable of performing divine miracles.
She would often tremble and hide at the sight of monsters. When faced with blood and exposed entrails, she would sometimes throw up what was in her stomach.
A Saint who couldn't even manage her own body, despite being responsible for healing the party.
In her memories, Franz always had harsh words for her in such moments.
So, she gave them right back.
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, wasn't that how it went?
If he was going to be sharp, she'd be just as sharp.
And so, she worked desperately hard.
Because she absolutely hated hearing harsh words from Franz.
In the end, he was still the same as ever.
The fault lay with her, for expecting even a little bit more.
The Saint let out a sigh, wiped down her now water-drenched desk, and lay down on her bed.
There was no reason to reply to such a pitiful excuse for a letter.
But even as time passed, sleep didn't come easily.
She had sworn in anger that she wouldn't reply, yet she couldn't help but be bothered.
It was only one sentence.
But a letter was still a letter.
Eventually, the Saint rose from bed and began to write.
He had sent one line, so one line should be enough in return.
* * *
Approval granted to dispatch a magic instructor to the academy.
Approval granted for a request to supply clean drinking water in the countryside.
Request for use of the Magic Tower's second-floor lab…?
"Ariana, that request for the second floor, was that from the necromancers?"
"Yes. They pleaded that they would truly behave this time, so I approved it for now."
Are those bastards really trying to turn the Tower into a field of corpses?
It hadn't been that long since they were allowed to use the lab and ended up releasing crazed ghouls all over the Tower, causing a massive headache.
He even had to issue disciplinary action, yet it seemed they hadn't learned a thing.
"If they ask, just tell them to do their experiments outside."
"Understood."
Franz boldly wrote "Rejected" in large letters across the document and moved on to the next.
Approval granted to dispatch purification mages to an orphanage facility.
Approval granted to dispatch mages to clean the outer walls of the royal capital.
Haa—
A sigh escaped Franz as he continued working through the mountain of documents.
He hadn't taken a single break, just focused on paperwork the entire time, yet he hadn't even finished half of it.
He'd dealt with about the same amount yesterday too, which made it all the more ridiculous.
Since taking the position of Tower Master, he hadn't had a single day off. At this rate, he might actually collapse from overwork.
It was then—
"Please take a short break. You look more tired than usual today."
A teacup was placed on his desk.
A rare moment where Ariana did something truly befitting of a secretary.
She was right, too, Franz had barely slept last night, staying up to write a letter to the Saint. Her observation skills were impressive.
The only problem was… the tea she made tasted incredibly bad.
Franz glanced between Ariana and the teacup, then quietly picked up his pen.
It felt like a silent threat to get back to work.
And then, Ariana spoke.
"Surely you're not going to refuse the tea your secretary made for you after carving out precious time from her already busy schedule."
"Aah, I'll drink it. I'm drinking it."
At this point, he was convinced she made the tea just to get that line in.
Still, since he said he'd drink it, Franz picked up the teacup.
A glowing blue magic circle formed at his fingertips, and the steaming tea was instantly chilled.
Gulp—
The cool liquid went down smoothly, clearing his mind.
A faint fragrance of tea leaves lingered pleasantly on the aftertaste.
But when he drank the carefully prepared hot tea cold like that, Ariana's expression twisted.
"I will never make tea for you again."
"No, seriously, it tastes better cold."
Of course, he knew it wasn't the polite thing to do, but tea was a personal preference, wasn't it?
And what's wrong with drinking a personal beverage the way one personally prefers?
Besides, leisurely sipping hot tea was a luxury reserved for those with plenty of time.
Franz was a man poor in time, there was no room for such indulgence.
Honestly, even though she said that, Ariana would definitely make him tea again, so he wasn't worried.
Well, he was feeling more tired than usual… maybe some stretching would help.
As he stretched his arms toward the ceiling, a thought suddenly crossed Franz's mind.
If the Saint has received the letter by now…
Maybe the guide window had changed?
Half-doubting, he summoned the translucent guide window into the air.
* * *
『Save the world from the villainesses who will lead it to destruction!
Hero Yuna (0.00%)
Saint Justia (1.00%)
Elf Archer Hera (0.00%)
If you fail, the world will be destroyed!』
* * *
Surprisingly, just sending a letter had raised the Saint's percentage.
He didn't know what criteria it was based on, but regardless, it meant he'd taken one step closer to saving the world, so it wasn't a bad feeling.
Still, only 1 percent? That felt a bit stingy.
He was risking his life here. Couldn't they at least be a bit more generous?
Anyway, he'd think about what came next after the Saint replied.
Franz turned the page and let out a quiet laugh.
* * *
『 Request for support in relief activities for a village damaged by monsters.
Additional note – This is an event the Saint herself will be attending. 』
* * *
So there was no need to wait for a reply anymore.
If the Saint was personally making an appearance, then he had to match her status on this side as well.
Franz moved his pen and wrote his name into the list of support mages.
Ariana would definitely raise hell if she found out, but—
Saving the world came before the stack of papers sitting right in front of him.
* * *
The next day.
Franz arrived at Saint Serphia Cathedral for the first time in a long while.
And came face-to-face with the Saint.
"It's been a while."
"Huh…? What are you doing here…?"
Justia's eyes widened in surprise.
Chapter 4
The Saint Is Annoyed.
A clear sky without a single cloud, and a refreshing breeze blowing by.
"How long has it been since I've been outside like this?"
For Franz, who had been practically confined to the Magic Tower due to endless work, everything felt pleasantly refreshing.
By now, Ariana had probably found the letter he left on his desk and was furiously building up her rage meter, but that could be dealt with later.
After all, saving the world was more important than Tower paperwork.
With that thought, Franz strolled leisurely through the streets and arrived at Saint Serphia Cathedral at the scheduled time for the request.
Though the Empire guaranteed freedom of religion and housed many faiths, the largest and most prominent one was still the Goddess Church.
Saint Serphia Cathedral was the central temple of the Goddess Church.
Its grandeur and splendor were enough to inspire awe every time he saw it.
The cathedral was so massive that it could be seen all the way from the Magic Tower.
Come to think of it, the last time he'd been here was about ten years ago.
He remembered being dispatched to clean the outer walls of the cathedral back when he was just a Tower member.
A god who can't even keep their own temple clean, wasn't that kind of incompetent?
Not that someone who was saved by divine grace had any right to say such things.
As Franz mused with his own internal commentary, he stepped inside the cathedral.
Unfortunately, today wasn't a day for sightseeing.
"Ah, are you the mage dispatched from the Tower… huh?"
A priest, spotting Franz, began to speak but widened his eyes in shock.
From the cloak he wore to the small pouch at his waist, he looked every bit the typical mage, but his face was unmistakably familiar.
Having played a pivotal role in saving the world as part of the Hero's Party, there wasn't a religious man alive who wouldn't recognize him.
"Could it be… are you Mage Franz? The current Tower Master…?"
"Yes, well, that's right. I was dispatched for the village relief effort."
"Ah, right, we're making preparations at the back gate. I'll guide you there at once."
The priest scratched his head, embarrassed at having momentarily forgotten.
Franz followed him and soon arrived at the cathedral's back gate.
There, preparations for the relief mission were in full swing.
Because village relief didn't just end with the Saint bestowing divine blessings.
They had to assist with rebuilding damaged structures, supplement food shortages, there was a lot to prepare.
Yet despite the busy scene, the arrival of the hero who had once saved the world drew countless stares.
"Ugh, uncomfortable…"
Franz didn't particularly enjoy being the center of attention.
When people were watching, he had to be careful how he acted.
If word got out that he preferred drinking tea cold, the whole world would probably gossip: The hero who saved the world, actually has no manners whatsoever!
But then again, didn't Saint Serphia Cathedral have a Saint?
Surely, they were used to having a fellow world-saving hero nearby, so why the stares?
But Franz was mistaken.
A hero they saw every day and a hero who almost never showed his face gave off very different impressions.
He was a hero among heroes. A celebrity among celebrities.
That was Franz.
And then, before his eyes, appeared another world-saving hero.
Long golden hair cascading to her waist, a pure white nun's robe embroidered with golden thread—
It was the Saint.
Franz approached her at once.
"It's been a while."
"Huh…? What are you doing here…?"
Justia's eyes widened in disbelief at the sight of Franz.
In response, Franz pulled a rolled-up document from the pouch at his waist.
It was the official request form from Saint Serphia Cathedral for a mage dispatch.
"You requested a mage from the Tower, didn't you? So here I am."
"Since when does the Tower Master personally respond to dispatch requests?!"
She wasn't wrong.
It was unheard of for the Tower Master to personally attend anything that wasn't a world-ending crisis.
But that was more because the previous Tower Masters had been self-important and lazy.
It wasn't that the Tower Master couldn't go on-site, it was just that they wouldn't.
If Ariana heard this, she'd probably furrow her brows and unleash a full hour-long lecture.
But Franz shut down all objections with a single sentence:
"That's the Tower Master's prerogative."
Sending mages was the Tower Master's choice.
Personally coming along was also the Tower Master's choice.
If anyone had a problem, they should've become the Tower Master themselves, he was the very picture of a stubborn old man.
Of course, upon hearing that, the Saint let out a hollow laugh, as if utterly dumbfounded.
"Hah… Fine. Do as you please, Tower Master."
With that, she hurried off to do her part, thinking she'd only lose more if she kept talking.
So Franz had no choice either.
As a dispatched mage, he couldn't just stand around, he had to help the clergy.
"Ah, you can leave that there. I'll move it for you."
As Franz moved his hand through the air, the relief supplies all lifted off the ground at once.
Hundreds of items floated, soaring smoothly through the air, a spectacular display only a Grand Mage could produce.
"Where's the food stored?"
"It's over here."
The priest pointed to one of the wagons.
Franz gave a light wave of his hand, and the food was neatly stacked onto the wagon.
"Tell me where the rest is, too."
"That wagon has the lumber, that one has blankets and clothes. Everything else is in the far back."
Once again, Franz only had to wave his hand.
The relief supplies floating in the air immediately sorted themselves out and stacked neatly into their respective wagons.
The priests' eyes widened in awe at the skill displayed by the Grand Mage.
Among them, however, there was one person who wore an unmistakably sour expression.
The Saint was glaring at Franz while holding a box filled with food supplies.
"I told you to just leave it."
"I'm fine. I'd rather do it myself than accept your help."
Just as the Saint ignored Franz's words and turned to walk away—
Every priest's gaze shifted to her.
And at the same time, something flashed before Franz's eyes.
* * *
* * *
Franz stared blankly at the guide window that suddenly popped up.
To put it simply—
The Saint was in a terrible mood, and if he didn't do something, a butterfly effect could lead to the world's destruction.
Sigh—
Franz let out a short sigh and waved his hand again. The box in the Saint's hands slowly lifted into the air.
The Saint turned her head sharply and glared at him.
"I said I didn't need your help."
"You said to do as I please, so I did."
With that, Franz gently lowered the floating box onto one of the wagons.
The Saint's face, which had been full of irritation, softened slightly. At the same time, the guide window that had filled Franz's vision disappeared.
To be honest, Franz had planned to leave her be.
If she insisted on doing it herself, there was no reason to interfere.
It wasn't like she'd turn into a villainess just over a single supply box.
But since the possible outcome was the destruction of the world, he didn't want to leave even a sliver of risk.
If moving a single box could prevent the apocalypse, then he'd do it a hundred times over.
And it did have its rewards.
The percentage next to the Saint's name had jumped from 1% to 5%.
He still had no idea what the criteria were, but it was something.
Not long after, all the preparations for departure were completed.
The priests and the Saint boarded the wagons, and Franz also climbed into the one assigned to him.
He found it rather unfortunate that they weren't in the same wagon.
If they had been, he could've asked her all sorts of questions during the trip.
But there was nothing to be done.
Maybe during their time as the Hero's Party they could've shared a wagon, but now that she'd returned as the Saint of the Goddess Church, riding with a man was out of the question.
Franz thought to himself—
She really lives life way too uptight.
* * *
The dispatch request from Saint Serphia Cathedral came with only one condition written in the paperwork:
Escort.
Of course, the Goddess Church did have its own knight order.
But unlike the powerful holy knight orders you'd see in other fantasy stories, this one wasn't overwhelmingly strong.
They were just regular knights who happened to be aligned with the faith.
Still, that alone was usually enough to deter common troublemakers.
Like your typical bandits.
Franz was well aware of this, so he remained relatively relaxed.
No matter how much they liked gold and plunder, even bandits valued their lives.
The only real exception would be if some evil cultists who worshipped the Demon God happened to attack the convoy—
Yeah, as if.
Cultists weren't that common, and there was no reason they'd appear right now of all times.
But that as if came true.
* * *
"Cultists!!!"
"Knights, prepare for battle!!"
"Protect the Saint!!"
* * *
Hearing the chaos erupting outside the wagon, Franz pressed a hand to his forehead.
Chapter 5
The Saint Really Hates the Mage.
Though it was officially considered a dispatch assignment, to Franz, this outing was no different from his first proper break in a year.
He had finally escaped the dreary, suffocating den of magic-crazed maniacs and could now experience the scenery he had only seen from his window—up close and personal.
As the Tower Master, he couldn't show it outwardly, but of course, he was thrilled.
Naturally, once he returned to the Tower, he'd have to face Ariana's wrath head-on, but that was a problem for future Franz to deal with.
For now, he intended to savor this rare taste of freedom.
And yet, cultists had to go and ruin his day out.
A whole year. Maybe not enough to rival the great man who lived off pan-fried dumplings in prison, but it was more than enough time to drive a person insane.
So it was only natural that Franz wasn't in a great mood.
There was simply too much pent-up stress to let this go lightly.
After working nonstop without so much as a day off, he finally had time to rest, and these guys just had to come and ruin it?
"You're all dead today."
With a deep furrow in his brow, Franz stood up.
He gently opened the door of the wagon and stepped out.
Honestly, he wanted to kick the door open dramatically, but since the wagon belonged to the Goddess Church, he held back.
The number of times dispatched mages had caused complaints wasn't exactly small.
Like they say, when the water upstream is clean, the downstream flows clean too. The top sets the tone.
…Or maybe not?
Would they really behave just because I do?
Franz wondered for a moment but decided to let it go.
Keeping it simple was best, and at the very least, it meant he wouldn't get nagged by Ariana later.
Anyway, now was the time to deal with these damned cultists.
Franz quickly assessed the situation.
About twenty figures in black cloaks, practically advertising themselves as cultists, stood on one side.
Facing them was the Holy Knights of the Goddess Church, roughly the same number.
"They're outmatched."
Surprisingly, cultists ranked quite high in terms of raw combat strength.
It varied based on individual ability, but generally, they were formidable.
Not all mages who believed in the Goddess became priests, but any mage who fell to the cult was a full-blown cultist by default.
In contrast, the Holy Knights were truly a noble group composed of people with deep, devout faith, but faith didn't equal strength.
Honestly, if you ignored the righteousness of their cause, cultists probably had deeper conviction.
Those guys bordered on actual madness.
Outmatched in faith, outmatched in power.
Is the Goddess Church's knight order really okay like this?
While his thoughts wandered, Franz suddenly sensed a flow of mana.
Six from the knights' side, and eight from the cultists.
A total of fourteen mages were beginning to cast spells.
From their fingertips, mana drew intricate diagrams. Those diagrams formed incantation structures, and those structures built into magic circles.
Seven were 2nd Circle spells, seven were 3rd Circle…
Three fire-element, four wind, two earth, five water…
As the magic circles neared completion and the mana began to surge—
Snap.
Franz flicked his fingers.
Instantly, all fourteen nearly-complete magic circles scattered into the air.
Anti-Magic.
A spell that converts active spells back into pure mana.
Franz had analyzed and deconstructed all fourteen spells in a matter of seconds and responded with the appropriate counterflow of mana.
A feat that bordered on miraculous, impossible without memorizing countless magic structures and formulas.
"Uh…?"
"Wh-what?!"
"W-why isn't it working?!"
Murmurs spread among the mages.
Some tried again, but Franz countered with more Anti-Magic, as if mocking them.
Then, a shout came from the cultists' side.
"F-Franz!! Grand Mage Franz is here!!"
Surprisingly, one of the cultists had recognized Franz's face.
Though, really, it wasn't surprising at all.
To those who worshipped the Demon God, the Hero's Party that slew the Demon King were the ultimate enemies.
All at once, the cultists' eyes turned to Franz.
The bloodlust pouring out of them was appropriately terrifying for fanatics.
But that only lasted a moment.
Franz lightly waved his hand.
And the heads of nearly twenty cultists fell to the ground.
Taking a human life—
It was something any decent person would naturally hesitate to do.
But to Franz, who had lived through countless battles and massacres, it was second nature.
Headless bodies collapsed to the dirt, and crimson blood soaked the earth.
The scene was so brutal that the priests all turned their heads away.
A few with weak stomachs even gagged.
Only one person kept her eyes on the scene.
The Saint, who, like Franz, had witnessed far too many dismembered limbs.
Her sharp gaze slowly turned to Franz.
She approached him with determined steps and snapped,
"Did you really have to go that far?!"
At that moment, a familiar window appeared between Franz and the Saint.
The window was visible to Franz, but not to the Saint.
Franz felt a surge of anger rise within him.
Here he was, doing everything he could to stop the world from heading toward ruin, and yet the Saint, who was central to all of this, couldn't even see the guide window and was acting purely on her own emotions.
On top of that, he had always disliked her hypocritical attitude.
Franz dismissed the window to the side and finally voiced the emotions he had held back for so long.
"So what, what exactly was I supposed to do? If cultists are caught, they're burned at the stake anyway. Didn't I actually make it easier for them? And even if I hadn't stepped in, they would've been killed by the Holy Knights. If anything, I dirtied my own hands in your place, shouldn't you be thanking me, or at least not yelling at me?"
"They were still lives! Didn't you feel any compassion while taking all those lives?! You've always been like this! Coldly taking countless lives without even the slightest hint of guilt!"
It was a clash between someone who wanted to uphold ideals and someone numbed by a cruel reality.
The problem was, this wasn't just any quarrel, it was between the Saint and the Tower Master. No one could step in to mediate.
"You need to learn to face reality—"
Franz began to say more, but stopped himself upon realizing that they had drawn attention.
He couldn't let personal emotions cause delays in a group effort.
There were people still waiting for relief, even at this very moment. He couldn't afford to let the schedule slip.
When Franz turned away, the Saint seemed to realize his intent and also fell silent.
And just before she climbed into the wagon, she muttered quietly,
"I've hated that part of you… ever since the beginning."
Says the one who should talk.
Franz let out a long sigh in place of a reply and boarded his own wagon.
Clatter—
A soft tremor, and soon, the convoy was on the move.
Franz stared blankly at the window and let out another deep sigh.
A moment of anger had reset everything to zero.
Still, there had been some value in the outcome.
He now knew that the percentage could go down.
Not that it was something he particularly wanted to know.
Well, if losing 5% was all it took to learn that, maybe it was a cheap lesson.
"Would apologizing bring it back…?"
Franz felt that 5% loss gnawing at him.
And let's be honest, if things went sour between him and the Saint, the one who stood to lose the most was him.
Is this what a power imbalance feels like…?
Franz felt unfairly treated.
* * *
The convoy arrived at the village, and the full-scale relief effort began.
The village's condition was bad, even calling it that was generous.
Border villages were usually in rough shape, but this one had suffered a monster attack, and the damage was severe.
There wasn't a single building that was still intact, and the fields, normally a lush green, were trampled with monster tracks.
Because of that, as soon as the relief team arrived, the villagers rushed over.
The priests got busy at once, and the relief supplies quickly dwindled.
There were many injured from the monster attack, so even the Saint had to move quickly.
Amidst all the chaos, Franz was tasked with repairing the collapsed buildings.
Technically, he should have been guarding the Saint, but the priests, having witnessed their argument earlier, offered him this duty as a sort of "courtesy."
Of course, he couldn't just sit idle. The state of the village was so poor that Franz had voluntarily offered to help with the repairs.
As a result, he missed his window to apologize and now just felt restless.
He let out a sigh and waved his hand; the construction materials aligned themselves and slotted perfectly into place.
"Ohh… Mage sir, you've got some real skills. You should be Tower Master or something…"
"Ahaha… Thank you."
Actually, I am the Tower Master, sir.
How much time had passed after that?
By the time Franz finished repairing all the buildings, a young child approached him.
"Mister Mage, something's wrong with the Saint."
Whoa there, kid—'Mister'?
I'm only in my mid-twenties. You should be calling me 'big bro.'
Anyway…
"Something's wrong with the Saint?"
"Yes…"
The child's glum expression filled Franz with a strange sense of foreboding.
So, he headed straight for where the Saint was.
"Saint… the Saint is already…"
"She was just alive a moment ago! There has to be a way, there has to be! Please… please…!"
The Saint's idealism had finally crashed against the harsh wall of reality.