Academic City (3)

“Aaaaaargh! No, Friendly!”

Friendly (the golem) finally shatters under Titan’s fist.

“Lovely… I trusted you!”

Lovely (the homunculus), who had been freely changing forms and digging tunnels here and there, ends up crushed flat under Titan’s foot.

Though the audience’s cheers were enthusiastic, there was an equal amount of gloom.

From those who lost money, that is.

“Kyahahahaha!”

The person resembling Ilina Crowley, who had invested heavily in Titan, let out an eerie laugh completely at odds with her elegant appearance.

“Princess Ilina is still the same. When will she ever grow up… tsk tsk.”

“Shit…”

“Hm? What did you say, boy?”

“Nothing, Duke Forys. Thanks to you, I’ve learned some useful information.”

When someone of Duke Edge Forys’s stature acknowledges it, I have no choice but to accept it as well.

That crazy woman cheering over there really is Ilina Crowley.

The person I need to elevate to 7th circle, who will send Lilia home.

At this rate, rather than sending Lilia home, she might just tell me to forget about it entirely.

But asking the power-hungry old man beside me for help is frightening – who knows what conditions he might demand.

“Boy, I happened to meet the Pope of the Pantheon Temple recently.”

“My, that must have been an ordeal. Can you still hear properly?”

“Lost one ear. Though a nearby priest healed me. But when I told him about a white-haired priest causing trouble in my territory, do you know what he said?”

“How dare you call the Pope ‘that guy.’ Even though I’m a priest myself, speaking ill of him in front of me is going too far.”

“He said there was no such person.”

“Of course. Since I’m not officially part of the Pantheon Temple yet.”

“…?”

“Huh?”

“Wait, were you a con man?”

Those were the reactions, in order, from Edge Forys, Linea, and Claire.

Their surprise is understandable. From our first meeting until now, I’ve been presenting myself as a Pantheon Temple priest.

It was convenient and helpful.

Made for good excuses too.

“Seems you found different backing. Seeing how readily you admit it.”

“That’s right. Though you were probably just fishing for information, there’s no need to hide it anymore.”

Met the Pope and asked about me? Don’t make me laugh.

If Edge Forys had actually told him about a heresy inquisitor causing trouble in his territory, the Pope would have accused Edge Forys of lacking faith rather than apologizing. Politics? None of that.

Our Holy Father rose to his position purely through faith in the gods. He’s properly lost his mind.

Living a life where every single action is connected to the gods, there’s no way he would have just listened to such complaints.

So this was just a probe.

The claim about meeting the Pope itself was probably a lie.

“So? Who’s backing you? Given how confidently you act even in front of me, it must be quite the impressive figure?”

“Planning to harass them if you find out? Putting your own name on the line?”

“Do I seem that petty to you?”

“Yes.”

“Correct.”

Of course, for someone who cares so much about his authority, he would immediately approach my backer and spread rumors about me if he knew who it was.

In the worst case, trying to get my backer to abandon me.

The dirty, underhanded way of nobles who strangle others politically.

“Duke, your deduction was excellent, but there’s one thing you got wrong.”

“Of course. I can’t know everything from just these few pieces.”

“Why assume I’ve risen to such a position?”

“…”

Yes, there’s no need to lie anymore. No need to hide my actions under the shadow of the lie about being a Pantheon Temple heresy inquisitor.

“Ah, you weren’t completely wrong. I do have backing.”

In my fight with Lilia, I discarded that false mask.

That symbol of my shameful side has already shattered.

My inverted cross became a cross, and now I no longer need to hide my face.

Because I who was once ashamed must now stand more proudly than anyone.

“The gods of the Pantheon Temple watching over me are my backing, and all believers who trust in them are my companions.”

“…”

“Take it up with the gods. Ask why they chose someone like me as their proxy. And complain to my companions. Say ‘What a fraud to have someone like this as an apostle, these god-believing cultists must all be crazy!'”

If you want to turn all the common folk who need something to rely on into enemies, be my guest.

“Hah…!”

Edge Forys fiddled with his staff before grabbing his forehead and letting out a hollow laugh.

“How will you prove that?”

“The Pantheon Temple internally must already know of my appearance.”

Since the oracle would have come down.

Of course, he probably didn’t ask this because he truly didn’t believe.

He might choose not to believe.

But there’s also no reason he can’t believe.

Then what to do? There’s the simplest method.

“The entertainment ended too quickly, how boring.”

Edge Forys rose from his seat and swung his staff wide.

A clear blue light gathered at its tip.

Just that made the surrounding air feel heavier.

Naturally, it draws attention.

The audience that had been continuously cheering as if drunk on the matches all turn their gazes to Edge Forys.

“What do you say? Shall this old body stir up some excitement?”

Thud! Thud! Thud!

A massive golem rises in the center of the dueling ground.

Its overwhelming presence isn’t even comparable to the golem named Friendly that Titan shattered earlier.

“Care to challenge, Prince Titan? If it’s difficult we can do it later, and if you’re scared you can refuse.”

“I was just getting warmed up. No reason to refuse. You nasty old man.”

“Kekeke.”

Edge Forys laughed as if he knew this would happen.

This kind of entertainment, he’s the type to enjoy it. But isn’t it obvious?

“However, isn’t this unfair? You might be fine with it, but how will the audience take it? It would be nice if someone could stand as your ally…”

“You crafty old fox.”

“Thank you for the compliment, holy man.”

This is a continuation of our earlier conversation.

Edge Forys asked how I could prove it, and I said the Pantheon Temple would vouch for me.

That was the problem.

Just from that, this cunning old man realized I hadn’t received official recognition yet.

Something he would have realized soon anyway – he probably wants to mess with me before it becomes official.

This powerful elderly noble sure has a nasty hobby.

I don’t need to accept this duel. I could just bow my head like a kind priest would.

But…

“Good good! Place your bets! Come on!”

The dueling ground has already found new entertainment and is in high spirits.

“One gold on Duke Forys!”

“Seventy silver on Duke Forys!”

“Hey you bastards! What about the odds? What about the odds! At 9.8:0.2 we’re losing money on fees! Bet on him too!”

“We believe in Duke Forys, the great magician and our fellow scholar!”

“These damn…”

Though I know I should refuse, I can’t take my eyes off this scene.

Of course, even if I refuse, the duel will proceed if Titan accepts. I might be called a coward, but I’m just a priest after all.

But what is this uneasy feeling?

“Then I’ll bet twenty gold on the green monster! Going for the reverse odds!”

That uneasiness becomes clear.

Ilina Crowley, whom I need to approach from now on. Seems she’s going for the reverse odds this time, still caught up in what she said earlier.

Twenty gold is quite a bet.

Though it might not be much money for a princess like her, losing money always hurts, even if it’s just one silver.

What if she loses twenty gold? What if that happens because she bet on my companion Titan and he loses?

This isn’t right. This line of thinking isn’t right.

“That’s just spite…”

Resenting and disliking us because of that would be immature.

“Princess Ilina has always had rather immature tendencies.”

“…”

“I’ve been wondering, there are many routes to the imperial capital, yet why choose such a dangerous path?”

Now it’s getting chilling.

“You might have business with Princess Ilina. Isn’t that right? Since the Mystic King is known for his terrible personality, you came looking for Princess Ilina who has a reputation for being more reasonable… But haven’t you considered this? Would a normal person be born under a madman?”

How could he grasp my purpose from just that brief reaction?

“Well? How’s my deduction?”

Deduction, my foot.

At this point it’s delusion.

“Well, it doesn’t matter if I’m wrong. What do I have to lose? But if I’m right… it would make for quite an entertaining spectacle.”

“Damn old man.”

“Now you’re talking back since you’ve risen to a position equal to the Pope.”

“Will you give me something if I win?”

“Hmm? Perhaps I’ll make a donation to the Pantheon Temple? Or a chance to chat with this small and cute ghost might not be bad either.”

Edge Forys slightly reveals the inside of his coat. There really was a small, cute child ghost there.

-Hoeeeng.

Though it makes somewhat strange wailing sounds… it is definitely a ghost.

Edge Forys has a connection to the <Wanderer>.

For someone like him to deliberately show that ghost here…

“Becoming an apostle of the gods, what joyous news. Especially if there’s someone who knows well about that power. How could it not be, when half-demons across the land will be targeting you? But oh my! What shall we do about this?”

Edge Forys sneers with exaggerated mannerisms unusual for him.

The power of a divine apostle, of a saint.

Hecate, who was once the Saintess, would know well about it.

All I know now is immense holy power and chains.

I still have room to grow, yet I don’t know how.

Time is short. Unlike the Saintess, I don’t have time to grow through self-realization.

Bluntly put, I can’t exactly spend 3–4 years locked up in the Pantheon Temple training.

I need someone’s help. Someone who knows this power in detail.

“That elf doesn’t seem likely to risk an adventure to meet you…”

To make matters worse, the other apostle of the Pantheon Temple is tied down and unable to move.

Even when I worked under the Saintess before my regression, there was little interaction.

During the war, they were holed up in the elven country of Alfheim dealing with trials, so we never even met.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t let this opportunity slip by.”

“…I admit it, Duke Edge Forys. You’re the closest to a complete bastard among all the authorities I know.”

“But my approval ratings are high.”

“That makes it even more irritating.”

To think someone so strict and nasty could be beloved by the common people.

I don’t understand how those two things can coexist.

“Fine. I accept.”

If I’d known this would happen, I should have just accepted when Hecate offered to attach a ghost to me back then.

I wouldn’t even get cursed now.

*     *      *

In the end, I found myself practically dragged down to the dueling ground. My word, the golem is even more imposing up close.

Edge Forys’s golem would naturally be on a different level from what Titan faced earlier.

This isn’t to say the previous magician was incompetent. Even setting aside Edge Forys being a once-in-a-generation genius, the golems’ operating principles are different.

The previous one was an autonomous device made from various materials.

But the golem Edge Forys raised now is a one-time spell created purely through his magic.

It will return to dirt once this fight ends or Edge Forys withdraws his mana.

“This is unexpected, Lost. Given your personality, I thought you wouldn’t come out.”

“Well, that was the plan, but…”

I glance at Princess Ilina Crowley cheering with the regular audience in the distance.

“Kyaaah! Fighting, oppa!”

When did she ever see me to call me oppa?

Anyway, winning this duel will surely earn her goodwill. If she wins, it’s 2,000 gold coins.

It’s enough to make even my eyes spin… shame that involved parties can’t place bets.

“Just trying to get the princess some pocket money.”

“…What an absolutely insane reason I never could have imagined.”