Chapter 98

Chapter 98

TL/Editor: raei

Proofreader: Pickhead7

Schedule: 5/week

Illustrations: None.

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“Oh my god! Heavens above!”

The residents, who had been hiding behind the fence, rushed out all at once.

When the barbarians clad in beast skins swarmed in, they thought they were doomed.

But, what a surprise.

A wizard appeared out of nowhere and conjured a fiery whirlwind, burning the barbarians away!

Well, hardly anyone actually burned to death...

Even if it was just making them abandon their plunder and flee, the wizard's presence was a tearfully welcome sight.

Especially the village chief, who fell in love with Ian as soon as he saw him.

He wasn't gay, but fell in love nonetheless.

Ian’s help was that welcome.

“Sob...! Thank you so much!”

Ian was startled as the chief tried to hug him.

Damn. Why does the crying sound like that?

In fact, Ian was more interested in driving off the barbarians than helping the village.

Helping the village was just a byproduct.

So, seeing the chief crying his eyes out didn’t move him at all.

He was more worried that the remnants of the barbarians might return.

“Well. I just happened to pass by.”

As Ian spoke, the chief cried even harder.

Given his sentimental tears, he was clearly a man going through menopause.

So maybe it wasn't about falling in love at first sight...

Receiving the love of an older man did not please Ian at all.

So, he subtly shifted the credit to someone else.

“God whispered to me. There are people in danger, so go and help them.”

[Eh? I never said that...]

“No way!!!”

“It’s truly the Lord!”

“I knew it, dammit!”

Since the villagers were devout believers, they accepted Ian’s explanation.

Man, I was so annoyed during prayers every weekend!Fôll0w current novÊls on n/o/(v)/3l/b((in).(co/m)

And to think, God sent us a wizard!

Ah! This is why I pray!

“We have nothing to give, being poor, but we can offer a meal...”

“Bring a cow!”

“Let’s have a festival of blood!”

The villagers, as if drugged, collectively got high on ‘wizard euphoria.’

In fact, this is often the reaction when commoners witness magic.

Events that transcend human understanding.

The very person who performed such miracles!

Having such a wizard right in front of them, it was only natural they couldn’t keep their composure.

Ian let the villagers run wild.

They're just happy.

Leave them alone, and they'll calm down on their own.

“We're a bit busy. If you really want to enjoy yourselves, go ahead and slaughter a cow or a pig.”

“You can't just send a wizard away empty-handed! Come on in, don’t be shy...!”

“I told you, I'm busy.”

“...”

As Ian spoke calmly, the chief also quietly shut his mouth.

A wizard’s voice carries their will.

In other words, others can easily pick up on Ian’s ‘mood.’

If you smile in front of an angry person or sigh heavily in front of a happy person, it was naturally annoying.

Thus, people naturally pick up on others’ moods.

But Ian’s voice, that of a wizard, exhibts these ques even more.

You might be able to play games in front of a crying neighbor, but not in front of a screaming mom. (If you can do both, congratulations. You're immune to magic!)

“I'm, I'm sorry.”

The chief, feeling as though he had committed a crime, apologized unwittingly.

Ian quickly silenced the chief's rambling and got straight to the point.

"Select the fastest runner and have them contact the lord. We need to root out these barbarians."

"Ah, yes! Of course!"

The village was bound to the lord by a feudal contract.

They paid their taxes with their produce and in return received the lord's protection.

It was somewhat like dealing with primitive, ancient gangsters.

Once the village requested help, the lord was obliged to respond.

If he didn't? They could simply terminate the feudal contract.

Since the baron would have breached the contract first, termination was a perfectly legitimate right for the villagers.

Barons were plentiful anyway!

In the Middle Ages, a baron was basically like a village head—each village had one.

“Lord Ian...! Wahhh!”

“They did this? They’ve already come and gone?”

Those damn barbarians.

A woman in a nun’s habit with a daring design approached.

It was Sister Mionia.

“While you were away, Lord Ian... they stormed in.”

"...What about Takarion?"

Mionia said sorrowfully.

“He's been kidnapped.”

Not long after Ian had left, a group of barbarians had stormed in.

Luckily, since the monks had set up camp on an open hill, they had been able to escape in time.

Except for one.

Except for Takarion.

‘Brother! Run!’

‘Gasp... Huff! I can’t run!’

‘Damn! I’ll help you!’

The monks tried everything they could to take Takarion and escape.

But Takarion was too slow...

It was the fate of a writer who lacked exercise.

“Sh*t.”

Ian was dumbfounded.

It was absurd that the barbarians had attacked so quickly and that only Takarion had been caught.

Was he just doomed to fail?

If you needed an excuse, it was likely that those who came for Takarion targeted him first.

But even taking that into account, it was a headache-inducing situation.

“Waah waah...”

Ian tried to console the monks.

“Calm down. Takarion isn't dead, right? They took him alive?”

“Yes... Sob sob...”

“Then don’t worry. The empire's brave young ones will surely rescue Takarion!”

Ian would never say he’d do it himself.

“But...”

The atmosphere was grim, but there was nothing the monks could do.

They were meant to pray, not to fight.

Just surviving an encounter with the barbarians was enough to be thankful to the gods for.

“Belenka. If you go after Takarion...”

“Hmm. It’d be difficult. We need to solve the supply issue first. And if we're ambushed, it'd be a headache.”

Belenka was also lukewarm in her response.

“Don’t worry too much. The rumors about the barbarians must have spread by now, knights will be dispatched.”

Defeating barbarians and rescuing monks was a feat any knight would covet.

A rescue team for Takarion would form voluntarily.

"We have tasks to complete, don't we?"

"Indeed."

They were headed to the monastery to deliver a bird that had hatched from a sacred relic.

Their mission was not to escort Takarion.

It's the Middle Ages, where people drop dead like flies.

Takarion's death (not yet confirmed) is unfortunate, but...

Those who are alive have their own futures to think about.

"Right. Let’s deliver the bird first and then think about the rest."

Urging on their unwavering steps, Ian and his companions continued their journey.

---

---

A few days later, Ian safely arrived at Takarion's monastery.

"This is the Blue Key Monastery."

"Oh."

Despite its location in the suburbs, far from the city, the monastery radiated a certain splendor.

Originally, the Blue Key Monastery wasn’t very wealthy.

But Takarion, the man in question, had changed everything.

The mega-hit of the Gospel of St. Marcus led to an explosive increase in donations!

Sadly, Takarion was no more.

It had become the Takarion Monastery without Takarion.

"What do you mean by that!"

A thunderous shout hit their ears.

A timid-looking man and a sly-looking man were seen walking side by side through the garden.

The monk led Ian in front of the two men.

"Say that again! What happened to Takarion?!"

"Calm down, please! Abbot! We have guests!"

"Shut up! Do I look like I’m in any state to calm down?"

Ian observed the abbot of the monastery, who was throwing a tantrum without even looking at him.

Ah, I see. The standard here.

‘What a mess.’

It seems that the money Takarion brought in had only served to grease their bellies.

The abbot treated guests like they were worthless.