Chapter 6
The Mage Hit the Saint.
In front of the makeshift relief center, about ten people lay down on stretchers.
Some had lost an arm, others a leg. The injuries differed, but all were severe enough to teeter between life and death.
The less seriously wounded waited in line for treatment, stepping forward when their turn came.
From the hands of the priests, divine power blossomed in a faint blue glow, restoring flesh and sealing torn skin.
A miracle inexplicable by modern science, truly an act of the divine.
But the process wasn't as smooth as it appeared.
Healing others with holy power consumed an enormous amount of stamina.
The more serious the injury, the more divine power it required, and even those treating minor wounds bore visible fatigue on their faces.
The same was true for the Saint.
Sweat beaded on her forehead, and rough breaths escaped her lips.
Still, she did not rest.
True to her title, she continued to treat patients, sacrificing her own strength.
The problem was, it was all meaningless.
"Please, please…!"
A golden light blossomed from the Saint's hands.
A pure, sacred color permitted only to her.
As the divine agent of the gods, her holy power far surpassed that of any ordinary priest.
People said it could even revive the dying.
Even Franz, who disliked the Saint, had to agree with that, after all, during their battle with the Demon King, it was her miracle that saved his life.
But that power only applied to those who were dying—not those who had already died.
"Why won't it work…!"
The Saint's holy light dispersed in the air without entering the patient's body.
In other words, the patient was already gone.
The surrounding priests had already realized that.
Only the Saint herself refused to accept it.
She couldn't let go.
She tried again and again to conjure divine power.
Sweat dripped from her brow.
Blood beaded at her nose and fell to the floor.
The priests tried to stop her, but none dared push too hard.
How could ordinary believers challenge the one known as the vessel of the gods?
And so, it fell to Franz.
He had journeyed with her in the Hero's Party for years.
And more importantly, he never hesitated to argue with her, which gave the priests some confidence.
Feeling the weight of every gaze on him, Franz placed a hand on his forehead.
"Why is it never simple…" he thought.
"I get it, I really do."
The Saint was someone who sacrificed herself for others. Her desperate effort to save this person wasn't wrong in itself.
The problem was, that idealism had taken root far too deeply.
Ideals are meant to remain ideals, because they can't always be realized.
Haa—
With a long sigh, Franz stepped forward.
He couldn't keep pretending not to notice, not with everyone watching him.
He gently placed a hand on the Saint's shoulder.
"That's enough. You know it won't work."
"…I can do it."
The Saint once again summoned her holy power.
But the golden brilliance she conjured merely scattered uselessly in the air.
Franz frowned.
This wasn't the first or second time. Multiple people had told her the same thing, and yet she clung stubbornly to her delusion.
Words alone weren't going to work anymore.
Franz grabbed her arm and forcibly pulled her to her feet.
The Saint struggled and slapped his arm away.
Her bloodshot eyes sharpened, fixed on Franz with intensity.
"You, what do you know?! Can't you stop interfering?! Do you just want to take another life?! Why are you so desperate to kill people?!"
"So what, that person died because of me? Honestly, I'd love nothing more than to leave a self-righteous idiot like you alone, but if that's what you want, then at least stop getting in other people's way."
"How can you give up so easily?! Is a life you're not personally connected to just not worth it?! If that's how you measure the value of life, why don't you become a god?! Fine then! I guess I'll be dead soon! Since my life must weigh less than a feather to you!!"
SMACK—!
Franz, unable to listen anymore, slapped the Saint across the face.
Her head snapped violently to the side.
"Saint?! Are you alright?!"
Voices of panic and concern erupted from the surrounding priests.
After all, the Saint was the holiest figure in the Goddess Church.
And now, she had just been slapped.
Of course the crowd was in an uproar.
But Franz, burning with anger, didn't hear a word of it.
The Saint turned her head back toward Franz and glared at him.
Then, ptooey, she spat something small and white.
A tooth.
Franz flinched slightly, but at this point, there was no going back.
He'd already struck her, so now he had to follow through and snap her out of it.
"Got a grip now? When someone tells you something, try actually listening. Stop being so damn stubborn."
The Saint bit her lower lip and clenched her fists.
She wasn't the type to back down just because she got hit, but it seemed the message had finally gotten through.
As silence settled between them, Franz slowly realized the situation.
Everyone in the area, from villagers to priests, was staring at them.
And so, Franz alone bore the brunt of the shame.
Regardless of right or wrong, the person at the center of conflict can never be comfortable.
Awkwardly scratching his head, Franz muttered,
"Priests, could you escort the Saint inside? She seems exhausted."
"I… I'm fine—!"
"Just go cool your head for a bit. I'll take care of things here."
The Saint said nothing more.
She knew better than anyone that she was in no state to continue.
Soon after, the Holy Knights gently led her away.
Watching her go, Franz reached into the small pouch on his waist.
Is it really right for a dispatched mage to be doing all this…?
Still, since he was here, he figured he might as well help somehow.
"Everyone, has anyone heard of an elixir? You take one sip of this stuff, and new skin literally grows back. I'm not joking, seriously."
Grape-Flavored Elixir.
It was something Franz had secretly stolen from the Demon King's castle.
Effect: fully restores HP.
There's also a cherry-flavored version available.
* * *
On a hill overlooking the village.
The Saint stared blankly at the scenery below.
Most of the buildings had been repaired, but even so, the village was far from being in good condition.
And at the sight of it, the Saint recalled her childhood.
A village where the only intact building was a tiny chapel.
In her early years, Justia had lived with her parents.
Her father was a tenant farmer who worked the land owned by a noble's estate. The taxes were so high that even after a day's labor, there was barely enough food for the family to eat.
Even in poverty, Justia had been happy.
Because she was with her mother and father.
She could endure hunger as long as they were together.
Still, just in case, she went to the chapel every day to pray.
Hoping that someday, her prayers would reach the heavens.
Dear Goddess, please let my family be happy—
Dear Goddess, please let us eat lots of delicious food—
The Goddess watched over all people, they said. If the prayer reached her, surely it would be heard.
She was so pure then.
A little girl who wanted nothing more than to eat well with her family and be happy.
But the world wasn't pure.
No, it was filled with evil.
That day had been a slightly happier one for Justia.
Her mother had brought home a small piece of meat with the money she earned working at a restaurant.
For the first time in her life, Justia had tasted meat.
Though it was low-quality and just a small chunk floating in watery soup, the taste brought a smile to her face.
She was happy.
Happy that she could eat meat with her family.
But that happiness didn't last long.
Unluckily, a group of bandits lurking nearby had chosen that day to raid her home.
Justia remembered that day vividly.
"Justia, keep your mouth shut and don't come out no matter what."
She had obeyed her mother's words and hid inside a small wooden box, clamping her mouth shut with a piece of cloth.
But the rickety box had a tiny gap.
Through it, Justia watched everything unfold.
Her mother gathered the dishes Justia had been eating from and tried to hide them.
Meanwhile, her father's shout rang out.
"Y-You bastards! What are you doing?! Urgh—"
A gleaming blade reflected the candlelight.
Blood sprayed everywhere.
"P-Please… I'll do anything, just spare me…!"
The bandits ignored her mother's desperate pleas and tore off her clothes.
After satisfying their lust, they stabbed her in the stomach.
Tears streamed from her mother's eyes.
Blood gushed from her belly.
The expression on the bandit's face held not a hint of guilt.
As if such things were completely normal.
Justia trembled uncontrollably.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, her shoulders shook.
And yet, she kept her promise.
She held her mouth shut and didn't make a sound.
She was lucky.
As the bandits ransacked the home, they didn't bother to open the wooden box.
She looked so poor, they probably assumed there was nothing worth stealing inside.
After the bandits left, and a long while passed—
Justia cautiously crept out of the box.
And ran to the chapel.
Of course, her parents were already dead, but how could a child like Justia know that?
All she knew was that the priests healed people.
So she ran with all her heart, hoping they could help.
But when she arrived and begged them with everything she had, the priests coldly refused.
Money.
It was because she had no money.
The clergy of the Goddess Church did not perform their duties for free.
In the end, Justia could do nothing.
She could only stare helplessly at the corpses of her parents.
She came to hate humans.
Those who took lives without remorse.
She came to hate priests.
Those who turned away even when someone cried out for salvation.
Afterward, she grew up in an orphanage and still went to the chapel every day.
And she prayed.
Why did You let them die?
If You are all-powerful, why didn't You save them?
And cruelly, the gods gave her power.
Thus was born the conflicted Saint, who resented the divine, yet could not abandon those seeking salvation.
So that's why.
That's why the Saint couldn't give up on the woman whose life had already slipped away.
Because she looked just like her mother.
She saw the image of her dying mother in that woman's final moments.
And once again, she could only stand there and watch.
The Saint looked up to the sky and thought—
Why… why did You give me this kind of power?
That was when it happened.
Grrrrrrrk—
A grotesque, metallic scraping sound echoed behind her.
A monster had appeared.
Chapter 7
The Saint Desires Destruction.
The grape-flavored elixir was wildly popular among the villagers.
Just a single sip and not only did wounds begin to heal, but even that persistent ache in the lower back miraculously disappeared.
On top of that, it actually tasted good, leading some to believe they'd be fine for the next 50 years, as long as they had this elixir.
Considering that the average lifespan in these remote villages barely reached 50, it was no exaggeration to say the elixir had granted them a second life.
"Mage sir, this stuff is incredible. How much does a bottle go for? If it's within reach, I'll scrape together every last coin I've got to buy one."
"Hm, I'm not sure of the exact price, but I'd say... at least a three-story mansion's worth?"
"Whew, that's outrageously expensive. And you're just handing this out to us?"
At Franz's absurd estimate, the villagers let out exclamations of disbelief and admiration.
But in truth, he had completely made it up.
Putting a price tag on an elixir was meaningless to begin with, he just wanted to impress upon them how valuable it was.
The elixir's rarity stemmed from one fact: it was discontinued.
It required the blood of a dragon, and dragons had vanished over 200 years ago.
Even Franz, who knew the recipe, had no way of making more.
All he could do was carefully guard the 20 bottles he had stolen from the Demon King's castle.
Was it really okay to drink an elixir over 200 years old?
Well, wine and elixir are both grape-flavored, so it probably works out.
He was in the middle of distributing the ambiguously expired elixirs one by one when—
Franz suddenly felt a chill run down his spine.
A slimy, revolting sensation spread through the ambient mana, crawling across his skin.
It was a feeling he hadn't experienced in over a year.
And one he could never forget.
A monster had appeared.
Franz's eyes shot toward the source.
A small hill near the village.
That was where the dark, ominous mana was concentrated the most.
Truthfully, Franz had somewhat expected this situation.
There was no guarantee that the monster that attacked the village before wouldn't come back.
But still, why now, and why when he wasn't near the one he was supposed to be guarding?
And of all places, why did she have to be the first one to run into it?
All because she insisted on cooling her head somewhere high and peaceful…
Though, admittedly, it was the perfect spot for it.
Regardless, he couldn't just stand around.
"Could you please hand the rest of these out for me?"
Franz handed the elixirs he was holding to a nearby priest and immediately began casting.
Magic circles started forming beneath his feet.
The runes aligned in a long string, connecting end to end to form a single circular ring.
Multiple layers of circles intersected in complex patterns.
And then, an intricate, highly advanced magic circle was completed.
Franz stepped forward, and in the instant his foot touched the ground, the entire formation vanished.
He had completed a 6th Circle spell mid-stride.
Everyone watching was left dumbfounded.
The priests, knowing he was the Tower Master, were quick to accept the sight.
But the villagers, who had no clue, spent quite a while murmuring among themselves.
"Magic these days sure is somethin'..."
Then, one bald man hesitantly spoke up.
"Uh, priest sir… Could I maybe… have one more bottle…?"
He was dreaming of curing his baldness with the elixir.
It was, of course, just that, a dream.
Baldness remained an incurable condition even in this world.
* * *
Franz, now vanished from the village square, reappeared atop the hill.
A gentle breeze rustled the grass and trees, a soothing sound in the warm sunlight.
It was the kind of place that made you want to lie down and take a nap.
Now he understood why the Saint had come all the way up here.
Unfortunately, it was currently occupied by one unwanted guest.
Franz glanced at the Saint.
She stared into space, her eyes unfocused and hollow, as if she'd lost the will to live.
He'd told her to clear her head, not freeze over her emotions entirely.
Still, she seemed physically unharmed, so at least he wasn't too late.
Which meant there was only one thing left to do now.
Kill the thing in front of him.
Franz turned his gaze back to the monster.
It looked like a wolf.
But its size was staggering, comparable to four buses stacked together.
Grrrrrrrrrr—
It growled menacingly and bared its teeth, thick drool dripping from its open maw.
Instead of fear, Franz furrowed his brow in disgust.
The pool of saliva spreading beneath the beast was absolutely revolting.
They stared each other down for a brief moment.
The monster was the first to move, lunging forward.
It moved with a speed that seemed impossible for its massive frame.
Thud— Thud—
Each step shook the ground beneath it.
But this was Franz.
A once-in-a-century genius who had completed the mythical 10th Circle magic that even the founder of magic could not master.
The mage of the Hero's Party, the one who helped slay the Demon King and restore peace to the world.
Franz raised both palms, facing each other.
Suddenly, eight magic circles formed around the monster.
From each of those points, transparent walls appeared, connecting to form a perfect cube.
The monster was trapped inside.
As Franz slowly brought his palms together, the cube began to shrink.
The monster struggled to escape, sensing danger.
It kicked and rammed the walls, but they held strong.
And finally—
Clap—
Franz's hands met.
The monster vanished, without a drop of blood left behind.
It was an immaculate execution.
Franz stole a glance at the Saint beside him.
He was half-wondering if the "life-loving crusader" was going to go off again about excessive force.
Not that he had any intention of listening if she did.
Still, hitting someone in the same place twice was poor form, maybe the left side this time?
Then again, she'd need at least one molar to chew her food…
Luckily, none of that was necessary.
The Saint didn't react at all.
She merely stared at Franz with unfocused eyes.
And that, ironically, left Franz feeling more uneasy.
Even justified violence still left a bit of guilt behind.
And to be honest, he'd let his emotions get the better of him earlier.
After all, in the world he came from, even cancer cells were considered life, so cultists were arguably the lesser evil.
Humans tended to mellow out once they cooled down.
Now that Franz had vented all his anger, he might as well have been a saint himself.
In the end, he decided to apologize first.
He started toward her, but was intercepted by the approaching Holy Knights.
"Thank you for saving us."
"There's no need to thank me, I was only doing my job. More importantly, I'd like to speak with the Saint, if I may."
Tension rose on the knights' faces.
Because, well, he had slapped her earlier.
"…I'm not here to fight, don't worry."
Only after Franz reassured them did they step back.
Even then, they kept a cautious distance.
At long last, Franz stood before the Saint.
"Mind talking for a bit?"
He sat down, and the Saint quietly took a seat a short distance away.
The breeze blew gently, rustling the trees and grass.
In the stillness, the Saint gazed vacantly down at the village.
The familiar scenery stirred old memories.
Despair welled up in her heart.
Eventually, the silence broke as her voice rang out.
"…Why did you save me?"
"God, do you have to ask like that? Haa… whatever.
I'm sorry for hitting you."
Franz had been about to lecture her for ruining the mood, but decided against it.
There was something unsettling in her vacant gaze, he didn't want to provoke her any further.
If she really did fall into villainy, the world could very well be doomed.
"You should've just let me die. You hate me anyway, don't you? Would've been the perfect opportunity."
She said the words as if death meant nothing.
She had no purpose in life.
Even if she found one, she would never be free, chained by the title of Saint.
Her heart, steeped in despair, saw no hope in the future.
She wasn't living because she wanted to.
She was simply… not dead.
Franz let out a sigh.
If she were angry, he could've just apologized, but this was something else entirely.
Still, all he could do was answer her question.
"I do hate you. But not enough to just let you die."
"So you hate me, but not enough to let me die. That's… contradictory."
Like a Saint who hates the gods she serves.
She swallowed the second part of that thought.
No need to say what didn't matter.
Instead, she spoke different words.
"Will you help me destroy the world?"
To bring ruin to the world the gods so dearly love.
Chapter 8
The Saint Shouted.
The Saint hated the Goddess.
Who was the Goddess revered by the followers of the Church of the Goddess?
An all-knowing, all-powerful being, said to watch over all life with infinite mercy and love.
But that was all, all hypocrisy.
If the Goddess truly were such a being, then why had she done nothing while monsters ravaged this village?
Why had she stood by while people starved, unable to escape the cycle of poverty?
Why had she ignored the atrocities committed by cultists?
Why had she let innocent people be murdered by bandits?
Why had she trampled on the desperate prayers of a little girl who only wanted to be saved?
And most of all…
Why, why had she given divine power to a girl who hated her?
Why had she shackled her with the role of Saint?
It was hypocrisy. That's why the Saint hated her.
And so came the desire for destruction.
If she couldn't kill the Goddess, then she would destroy the world the Goddess loved.
To the Saint, this was the only way to offer salvation to the ones the Goddess had forsaken.
Better to die than live a life of endless suffering.
That was why she'd asked Franz.
Because if anyone could understand the taking of life without hesitation, it was him.
Of course, Franz didn't understand, not even close.
Instead, his thoughts were—
Oh, shit. We're seriously screwed.
A mental siren wailed in Franz's head.
At this rate, not only the world, but his own life was in danger.
He wanted to believe she was just saying it in a fit of anger, but…
The floating message in front of him crushed that hope.
A Bad Ending.
The end of the world.
It was almost touching how kind the message was.
A polite, "Hey, you're about to die. Thought you should know."
It snapped him back to his senses.
She had looked mentally out of it, but he hadn't expected it to be this serious.
Still, it's not the worst-case scenario.
There's always a way out, as they say.
Being on the verge of a Bad Ending meant it wasn't over yet.
There was still a chance.
If he didn't give up and put in the effort, he could get past this turning point.
Sure, the Saint wouldn't bounce back all at once.
But that was fine.
People tend to regain clarity once they've calmed down.
Huu—
Franz took a deep breath to steady his nerves and quietly asked,
"Why? What happened to make you feel this way?"
He decided to start by simply listening.
Sometimes, all someone needs during hardship is for someone to listen.
And if he wanted to prevent her from turning evil, he had to know what was going on.
You can't help someone unless you know what's wrong.
Maybe her reason would be ridiculous, but…
He'd deal with that when he got there.
Thankfully, the Saint responded just as he hoped.
"To convince you? …Fine. I'll tell you everything."
Revealing her past wasn't something the Saint wanted to do.
But if it meant gaining Franz's cooperation, she would endure it.
After all, with that overwhelming power he'd shown, the 10th Circle magic
leading the world to destruction wouldn't be difficult at all.
"When I was a child…"
And so, slowly, her long story began.
From the girl named Justia…
To the Saint who now hated the gods.
She poured out everything she had held inside.
This was the first time she had ever shared her past with anyone.
Memories she didn't want to recall.
Feelings she had never been able to express, because there had never been anyone to express them to.
So, the hatred she had bottled up met the kindling of a repressed life…
And blazed.
But now, now that Franz had listened to everything—
That blazing fire in her heart dimmed, just slightly.
It was faint, but it was real.
Franz sat silently, having listened to the Saint's entire story.
He rubbed his forehead with a hand.
What kind of life is that…?
Being born into poverty was one thing—
But to witness her parents being assaulted and murdered with her own eyes…
It was beyond shocking.
Even without her saying so, it was painfully clear how deeply she'd been wounded.
And her hatred toward the gods, Franz could now understand, at least a little.
In this world, the gods were real.
Religion was deeply woven into daily life.
People even credited the gods when things went well.
So it wasn't so strange that she blamed them for what happened to her parents.
Especially if all that suffering had been part of some divine "trial."
Franz just felt sorry for her.
She'd gone astray, but only because her childhood had been so cruel.
Still—
Even so—
He couldn't help her destroy the world.
Everyone has moments when they want the world to burn.
Especially those who have suffered deeply.
But thinking about destruction and acting on it are two entirely different things.
So then, what should be done from here on out?
There wasn't really much to it.
Franz spoke in a low voice.
"If it's that hard, why don't you quit being a Saint?"
"Quit being a Saint…?"
"Yeah. Why work under a goddess you hate? If you hate the temple, leave it. If you hate the job, just quit."
Surprisingly, this was Franz speaking from experience.
The tale of a black-haired Korean man who quit his job after being constantly berated by his boss and finally found happiness.
Hearing Franz speak so bluntly, the Saint was simply bewildered.
Quit being a Saint? That thought had never even crossed her mind.
Wow, it's been over 20 years, and I still get pissed thinking about it. Kim Jung-hoon, that balding bastard with a belly like a pregnant pig…
It was then.
As Franz grumbled to himself, a flash of inspiration suddenly struck him.
Like how some people relieve stress by singing or shouting—
Since they were already up on a hill, why not just yell it out?
"Hey, how about this, let's just scream and curse for once. Like, 'That damn goddess—!' Sound good?"
A multitude of question marks appeared in the Saint's head.
Even the most vulgar beggars wouldn't dare curse the goddess in front of a Saint, but here was the Tower Master doing just that. It was strange.
People said magic made you crazy, and apparently even the Tower Master wasn't immune.
Still…
It wasn't such a bad suggestion.
The Saint's lifeless eyes slowly regained focus.
Seeing that, Franz inwardly let out a sigh of relief.
He had changed the subject to avoid her returning to talk of destruction, and thankfully, it had worked.
If I have to do this two more times, I might pass out.
Franz thought that as he snapped his fingers.
A translucent dome formed around Franz and the Saint, like a magical barrier.
It was a spell that cut off all sound between the inside and outside.
Even Franz thought it would be a bit much to scream curses at the goddess while the holy knights were nearby.
"Alright, first, stand up."
Franz rose to his feet, and the Saint followed suit.
"Sound from the outside's blocked."
"…So it won't reach the sky, huh?"
There was disappointment in her voice.
What the Saint truly wanted was to curse directly at the goddess.
Screaming alone to relieve stress wasn't the point.
Of course, Franz understood her intention perfectly.
He snapped his fingers again.
He couldn't let her revert to an evil villainess now, not after all that effort.
The translucent dome around them vanished, and instead, domes covered the holy knights nearby and the village below the hill.
Because of the massive area, the spell consumed a tremendous amount of mana, but it was worth it if it meant stopping the Saint from turning evil.
"Alright, you're good to go now."
Ssssssk—
At Franz's signal, the Saint inhaled deeply.
Then shouted at the top of her lungs—
"GODDESS, YOU BASTARD—!!"
Her clear, beautiful voice echoed through the sky.
Of course, cursing the goddess didn't erase her hatred.
But somehow, the Saint felt a little lighter inside.
* * *
Thankfully, after that one scream, the message window didn't appear again.
In other words, they had successfully passed the first branching point toward a bad ending.
Naturally, Franz was pleased.
Though, he couldn't help but be slightly bothered by the Saint's parting words before he left.
"My offer still stands. I'll be waiting for your answer."
But that was fine.
It meant she wasn't planning to plunge the world into destruction immediately, at least.
And besides—
Her percentage had jumped all the way to 10% in one go.
Not only had he saved the world from destruction, he'd made major progress in her route.
It was a win-win, like killing two birds with one stone, or scooping fish while draining the pond.
Feeling good, Franz returned to the Tower with a spring in his step.
He had completely forgotten the fact that he'd abandoned his duties and snuck out.
Then, inside the Tower Master's office, he was met by Ariana.
"Tower Master…? You're finally back…?"
Ariana's eyes, burning with fury, looked ready to destroy the world herself.
Chapter 9
The Secretary Was Speechless
The Tower Master, by title alone, one might think they simply presided over the Tower.But in reality, the position encompassed far more.
The Tower Master was not only the ruler of the Tower but also the de facto sovereign of Estere, the city that had flourished around the Tower.
So naturally, where else would Franz go after completing his dispatch mission?
From the Saint Serphia Cathedral, back to Estere, his own backyard, then back to the Tower, which was his own house.
He hummed cheerfully, light-heartedly, his steps practically floating. After all, he had just saved the world from destruction.
But Franz had forgotten one very important fact.
That the Tower Master had a mountain of paperwork to deal with every single day.
The sun was already hovering over the ridge, another night of overtime was practically guaranteed.
Still, it wasn't as if anyone could reprimand him.
If the Tower Master slacked off, the burden wouldn't fall on the other mages.
It simply wasn't their problem.
And mages, as a rule, didn't like to interfere in each other's business.
Even if one wanted to interfere, who would have the gall to criticize the Tower Master?
At most, they'd click their tongues behind his back.
But there was one person.
Out of all the mages, only one ground her teeth at the Tower Master's outrageous behavior.
The Tower Master's secretary, Ariana.
She was in the secretary's office, grinding her molars as she processed an endless stack of paperwork.
Because Franz had abandoned his duties, the workload had doubled.
Crumpled on her desk was a sheet of paper—
One that Franz had casually dropped off earlier that morning.
The contents were exactly what everyone might have guessed.
[ Out on dispatch. ]
If using a letter like a modern-day instant message was typical of anyone, it was Franz.
Not that the recipient could help being completely dumbfounded.
Ariana let out a long, weary sigh and thought—
"The moment he steps through that door, I'm not letting him off easy."
Meanwhile, Franz, blissfully unaware of any of this, was skipping along with carefree steps.
He hadn't spared a single thought for the work he'd left behind, no concern at all.
Franz only started to suspect something was off when he reached the top floor of the Tower.
Just as he was about to enter the Tower Master's office, he noticed something.
The adjacent secretary's office was still brightly lit.
And from inside, he could hear the rapid shuffling of papers.
"…Ah."
Only then did Franz realize.
Ariana was still working because he had ditched everything and left.
If she saw him now, she'd definitely start nagging.
But to get to the Tower Master's office, he'd have to pass right by the secretary's door.
An impossible situation.
So what could he do? He had no choice but to avoid walking at all.
Franz disappeared from the hallway in a blink—
And reappeared in the pitch-black Tower Master's office.
He couldn't see an inch ahead in the darkness, but that didn't matter.
Franz raised his hand, ready to snap his fingers to activate the lights—
"Tower Master…? You're finally back…?"
A whisper slid into Franz's ear like a ghost in the night.
"Hiiack—!"
Darkness always breeds fear.
Franz jumped with a start and snapped his fingers immediately.
With a click, the mana lamps came to life, flooding the room with warm light.
He spun around to identify the voice.
And what he saw—
Was a demon.
An evil spirit that could bring about the world's destruction.
The flames blazing in her eyes looked like they might shoot beams of light.
A sharp silence hung between them for a long moment.
Unable to withstand the tension, Franz let out an awkward chuckle and spoke first.
"I, I'm back."
"Oh, yes. After informing me with a single sheet of paper, 'I'm out on dispatch', I trust your little trip went well?"
She had almost said "You went off and had fun, didn't you?"
Even for someone like Ariana, who was known for her sharp tongue, that would've been a bit much.
Which meant, she was seriously pissed off.
And fair enough.
Franz had ditched his work, and she was stuck with the overtime.
Anyone would be angry.
Franz did feel a little wronged, though.
It was a choice between Tower paperwork and saving the world.
When weighing the fate of the world against bureaucratic tasks, the choice was obvious.
Problem was, Ariana didn't know that.
Franz sighed inwardly as he began taking off his robe.
"Go on and head home. I'll finish what's left."
She worked hard every day, he didn't want her to be dragged into even this mess.
Besides, knowing Ariana, she probably already finished the bulk of it.
Whatever remained couldn't be that much.
But Ariana didn't respond the way he expected.
She snatched the robe he'd taken off and, whip, whip, folded it neatly in midair.
She placed it carefully to the side and said—
"Tower Master, you're always so slow that if I left you alone, you'd be working until morning. Telling me to leave, are you trying to make me feel guilty or something?"
"No, you're done for the day. No reason to stay. Go on, before I change my mind."
"But if I help, it'll go a little faster, won't it?"
"It's fine. Just go."
Franz knew exactly what she meant by all this.
When a boss is still working, subordinates often feel guilty leaving first.
Even if they're done, they ask, "Can I help with anything?"—
seeking implicit permission to clock out.
It's just how workplace dynamics go.
Franz had no choice but to turn Ariana down.
The black-haired Korean of the 21st century had spent every single day being handed work he didn't ask for.
And he knew, such outdated, unnecessary practices needed to be severed.
So Franz took a seat and began flipping through paperwork.
Ariana, watching him quietly for a moment, turned around and murmured a single line—
"Ah. Is that so."
Her chilly voice echoed low through the Tower Master's office.
She had just started walking toward the door to leave when—
"You did well."
Franz's voice came from behind her.
Ariana froze in place.
She let out a small sigh, so faint it was barely audible.
Franz, noticing her sudden pause by the door, found it a little odd, but didn't dwell on it.
She'll probably just head out like normal, he thought.
And just like he expected, Ariana left shortly afterward.
Hearing her footsteps grow distant, Franz stretched his arms high above his head.
It hadn't even been long since he sat down, but his body already felt stiff.
It's like when you come back from a field trip, fun at first, but exhausting in the end.
Not that he'd even been on a trip, technically speaking.
Franz went right back to work.
Scratch, scratch.
The only sound in the still air was his pen scratching across paper.
"Application for land use near the Tower…"
Franz skimmed the contents.
It was a request to turn the plot near the Tower into a graveyard.
Sender: the Necromancer Association, obviously.
I tell them to do experiments outside, and now they wanna turn the Tower into a giant tombstone?
They really don't know when to quit…
Franz wrote a massive REJECTED across the form.
He was just about to move on to the next document when—
Click, click, click.
He heard footsteps again.
He looked up and saw Ariana standing at the doorway.
Did she forget something?
But she wasn't moving. Just standing there. Staring at him.
Franz couldn't hold back his curiosity anymore.
"…What?"
"I just don't trust you to get it right."
"Ugh, seriously. You've done enough for today, go get some rest."
"If you screw up, I suffer too. You think I can sleep like that?"
…She wasn't wrong.
If the Tower Master made a mistake, all the complaints went straight to the secretary.
But Franz didn't exactly have a history of making mistakes.
Any complaints that did come in were usually baseless nonsense.
Still, he didn't say any of that out loud.
He figured, just how much anxiety must she have felt to come back like this?
So instead, he gave her a simple answer.
"Do whatever you want."
It was a non-permission permission.
With that, Ariana quietly pulled a chair over and sat across from Franz.
She started helping with the paperwork like she'd never left.
A small, nearly invisible smile tugged at her lips—
But Franz, of course, didn't notice.
* * *
"Uuhghhh…"
The next morning, a sound full of exhaustion escaped Franz's mouth as he opened his eyes.
They'd worked deep into the night, and his body was crying for rest.
Had Ariana not helped, he might have literally worked until sunrise.
He was truly sorry for making her go through that.
So Franz came to a conclusion.
He needed to hire a second secretary.
He'd just barely managed to handle things this time with only the Saintess involved.If the other two started making trouble as well, he'd have no choice but to give up on work entirely.
And he had a feeling things were only going to get worse from here on out.
Ariana couldn't possibly handle all of it alone.
So when he arrived at the Tower, he told her straight.
"I'm thinking of hiring another secretary."
Ariana's eyes lost focus instantly.
Like the light in her soul had just flickered out.
Chapter 10
The Secretary Was Defeated.
When Franz met Arian's vacant stare, chills ran down his entire spine.
It was as if the image of the Saintess from the day before had superimposed itself over Arian.
Franz had gone through hell to keep the Saintess from destroying the world—
They'd argued, he'd slapped her hard enough to knock a tooth out, and in the end, he'd even done a counseling session.
The first two felt a little off when listed like that, but…
Eh. In the end, the world didn't end. Let's call it even.
Still, it was absurd.
He'd twisted himself into a pretzel to save the world, and now, barely a day later, he was facing the exact same expression.
Franz quietly raised his hand, looking down at it.
Would this work on Arian, too…?
But no.
He couldn't go throwing the "Purifying Slap" just yet.
Arian wasn't listed on the doomsday villain roster, at least, not according to the quest window.
And Franz had seen enough yesterday to trust that system with 200% faith.
So he slowly lowered his hand again.
"What's wrong? Why are you so upset?"
"…Why? Why are you trying to hire another secretary?"
"So you don't overwork yourself? If someone else helps out, your workload'll go down too."
"No. It's fine. I'll do it all myself."
Arian shook her head firmly.
Franz just couldn't understand it.
If the workload goes down, isn't that a win-win?
Just yesterday, she'd been stuck doing extra hours thanks to his absence.
If someone else was around, she could go back to her sacred right, leaving work on time.
So why?
That's when one word popped into Franz's head.
Salary.
Maybe she was worried hiring someone else would lower her pay?
If so, that made sense.
People work for all kinds of reasons, but let's be real: the biggest one is almost always money.
"I'll keep your pay the same. No, actually, you've been working hard lately. I'll raise it. How's that?"
"Haah… You think I care about measly money right now?"
Franz's brain went blank.
If it wasn't about money… then what was it?
He couldn't think of a single rational reason to object.
And "that measly salary"?
That was a low blow.
Back in Korea, Franz had shed tears over 1 million won raises.
To hear it dismissed like this? Felt like his whole past had been invalidated.
But of course, Franz was forgetting something important.
Arian was a duke's daughter.
Her family already had wealth piled like mountains.
To her, a Tower secretary's salary was "that measly money."
…She'd even told Franz before.
He just didn't remember.
From Arian's perspective, the injustice was stifling.
Was he intentionally acting this clueless?
Meanwhile, Franz was just… frustrated.
She kept saying "No" with no clear reason, and it wasn't like he could just let her do everything.
So he figured: fine, we need a new approach.
This back-and-forth wasn't getting anywhere.
Negotiation 101: state your wants, find middle ground.
So he asked:
"Alright. Then what do you want?"
"…I don't want you to hire another secretary."
"Just a secretary? Like, if I bring in a regular admin assistant or clerk, that's fine?"
"…That… should be fine…"
Arian trailed off.
She didn't want to agree too quickly, it would make it too obvious she was emotionally attached to the secretary title.
Because in this world, the Tower Master's secretary was the only person who worked directly by his side.
To cling to that role…
Was to say, "I want to be the only one next to you."
Basically, a half-confession.
And in this world, women never confessed first.
If a woman liked a man, she'd flirt just enough to be noticed.
Then the man was supposed to fall in love and confess, completing the perfect love story.
…Too bad Franz wasn't that type.
He'd lived through 21st-century dating culture.
You flirt with him? He wonders if you're okay.
You smack him with a tail? Then he might realize you're interested.
So to Franz, Arian's response was great.
"Not a secretary? Cool. I'll just hire a regular office staffer, then."
And so, Arian: One Mysterious Loss.
Franz had no idea, but ever since his days as a Tower apprentice, women had been wagging their tails left and right.
High-ranking nobles, daughters of magic association heads, even royals.
Franz might've come from a baron's house, but his magical talent and face were enough to flip the hierarchy.
…Strangely, none of those women ever lasted long around him.
All except one.
Thud.
Arian dropped a stack of paperwork on his desk, her lips curled in a crooked little smirk.
"Well then, Tower Master, do your best today with those slow hands of yours."
Front or back, Arian was always in motion.
The real problem was that Franz still had no clue.
"Ugh…"
Franz looked at the pile of documents in front of him, vision going dark.
Yeah. He needed to start hiring office staff. Fast.
* * *
A Few Days Later.
Franz had posted a job notice for administrative staff.
『We're Looking for Someone to Join the Tower Like Family!
Salary: 1 gold coin (raises possible based on performance)
Perks: Full access to tower facilities, 30% discount on request fees
Work hours: Leave as soon as work is done
Job Description: Handle incoming requests and proposals (no physical labor, purely clerical)
The Tower hires without regard to background or social class. Apply freely!』
* * *
It was an outrageous offer.
Not just the generous pay, but the line about disregarding social status was downright shocking.
In a society where every noble was hellbent on expanding their personal power base, such a declaration was practically a slap in the face to tradition.
Naturally, commoners didn't buy it at first.
They'd heard it all before.
Just last month, the neighboring lord had promised to recruit knights "fairly," only for every single one of them to turn out to be nobles.
Surely this was just another ploy to gain popularity among the masses.
Still, despite their doubts, the commoners began submitting applications one by one.
After all, the salary was a whole gold coin.
That was enough to live frugally for five years, a chance to change their lives forever.
And even if they didn't get hired, what did they have to lose?
* * *
Time passed, and now here they were.
Franz stood in front of the Tower, staring at the sheer number of applicants and clutching his forehead.
There were easily over a hundred people.
He knew the terms were generous, sure, but he hadn't expected this.
"This is exactly why I told you not to do it. You've brought this on yourself, Tower Master. You'll be handling the consequences."
Arian's tone was cool as she surveyed the crowd.
She scanned the faces with clinical precision, quickly weeding out pretty girls, or anyone who looked like they might have a little too much interest in Franz.
Even if they didn't mean it at first, she knew they'd start wagging their tails at him eventually.
It was better to pull those weeds early.
* * *
Then the interviews began, with Franz overseeing them directly.
Though "interview" might be a generous word.
All they did was check for literacy, basic arithmetic, and a few short questions.
But then—
"How do you feel about the Tower Master?"
Arian's gaze was sharp as she questioned one young woman.
"Oh, um, he's respectable, and… uh… handsome, and cool, and…"
"…Rejected."
Arian's voice was cold as ice.
Sure, Franz being complimented felt nice, but there was no way she was letting a fox into the henhouse.
Franz, meanwhile, was completely dumbfounded.
Who made her the judge?
"It's fine, have a seat over there."
A woman in shabby clothes who'd begun rising at Franz's words sat back down in surprise.
* * *
After a long process, only three applicants remained.
Two commoner women and one male mage.
And when news spread that two of them were commoners, the entire town lost its collective mind.
He actually meant it.
The Tower Master had chosen based on merit, just like the notice had said.
Franz had genuinely made the announcement without a second thought—
But that one move had skyrocketed his reputation.
* * *
A few more days passed.
The new clerical staff had settled in and were handling tasks smoothly.
That's when Arian entered the Tower Master's office, a sheet of paper in hand.
"Tower Master, you've received a direct dispatch request."
Direct dispatch…?
Franz blinked.
The Tower did have a system for named dispatches, sure.
But the cost was so high, nobody actually used it.
His curiosity piqued, Franz accepted the document from Arian and began to read.
* * *
[Mission: Rescue Elf Slaves]
[Designated Mage: Franz Gilbert]
* * *
He hadn't even read the whole request, and already a chill crept down his spine.
There was only one elf he knew in this world.
And sure enough—
[Sender: Hera of the Root Tribe]
* * *
One more villainess had made her move.
Franz slowly raised his hand and pressed it to his forehead.
Here we go again.