Chapter 36

“…You’re joking at a time like this!?”

…Except I wasn’t.

Rivet, normally so calm and composed, shouted at me with real anger.

I smiled lightly, trying to soothe her.

“Don’t worry. She’ll be fine.”

“My gods… what kind of madness is this…”

She was genuinely worried about Shia. And watching her, I realized—maybe not every high-ranked mage was a broken misanthrope after all.

“You’re kinder than I thought,” I said.

She let out a bitter laugh, self-mocking.

“…If I were truly kind, I’d be rushing in there myself instead of standing here wringing my hands.”

“That’s more than enough. Just watch. She’ll be alright.”

“…Haa…”

Her shoulders sagged, and she stared at the haunted mansion with a helpless, conflicted look.

Five minutes passed. Then—

ROOOOAR!!

Hosik’s voice, a desperate, furious howl, echoed from within the mansion.

It meant one thing: something had gone wrong with Shia.

“…That, I didn’t expect.”

“Wh-what does that mean?”

“Hmm. Not sure myself.”

“You said she’d be fine!”

“Honestly, I’m a little caught off guard too. What could it be?”

Frowning, I reached into the Hero’s Backpack and drew the sword given by the angel. Its name, courtesy of Shia, was now Astraphe—an old word meaning “light” or “flash.”

I’d wanted to call it something solid and homely, like Steadyblade. But Shia had insisted, and in the end, her naming sense won.

Shing…

The blade gleamed as I drew it, and Rivet’s eyes went wide.

“Wh-what are you doing!?”

“What else? I’m going in to see what happened.”

“N-no—wait! I’ll go instead!”

She pulled out her wand, ears quivering.

“A mage like me can withstand mental attacks for a while. You see, in the Imagery we mages use, even abstract, formless attacks can be shaped and understood. Fear comes from ignorance—if we can perceive it, we can resist it, at least somewhat.”

“Ohh. So Imagery has that kind of function.”

“And I’m a 6th-rank mage. My Imagery is large and stable. I can hold out maybe five minutes. If I don’t bring the girl back within that time, you must leave immediately and inform the Tower. Promise me—don’t try to come after us!”

“Wait, then does that mean anyone with a strong enough Imagery, regardless of rank, can endure mental attacks?”

“Well… in theory, but Imagery follows rank anyway, so—no, that’s not the point! Did you hear me!? Five minutes, no more!”

Her voice was still ringing in my ears when I pressed a thumb gently to the back of her neck.

“Ugh…!?”

She collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.

I caught her and laid her down carefully, chuckling dryly.

“Sorry, but I’m much better suited for this. I’ll accept the sentiment—rest here for a while.”

I whispered minor miracles into the blade—Striking and a few others—and stepped without hesitation into the mansion shrouded in wraiths.

Immediately, grotesque shapes surged toward me, surrounding me in their swarm.

Black shadows clawed at the edges of my mind.

A psychic attack—that much was certain.

—Ghiiii…

—Uhhuuhuhuhuh…

—Hhhhhh…

—Hiiiiiiiii…

—Kkiiiiii…

Hatred, rage, bloodlust, malice—sorrow and regret whipped into a storm. Agony. Wailing.

Enough dark emotion to drive an ordinary man stark mad on the spot.

For an ordinary man.

“…That’s it? Aside from being noisy, it’s nothing special.”

And even that noise was swiftly swallowed, sucked away like water down a drain. I traced the presence devouring it—unsurprisingly, at the end of that trail shone my vast, blue star of an Imagery.

“…So this is what she meant by defending with Imagery.”

I quickened my pace toward Hosik’s howls and shut one eye.

Half-Eye Method.

The world split in two. With my closed eye, the Imagery unfolded.

I landed inside my own inner world and turned my gaze.

When I invoked the Half-Eye, I usually appeared where that fake Shia—my mana avatar—was lingering.

“…Huh. The mountain behind my old neighborhood? It’s always here… something special about this place?”

But this time, both the fake Shia and the fake Yuribel glared at me disapprovingly, pointing toward the distance.

“…!”

“…!!”

I followed their gaze.

A gaping hole hung in the air, vomiting foul, stinking black sewage.

“Ugh, disgusting… wait. Is that the mental attack? The formless assault, visualized through Imagery?”

It poured down in torrents, like ten fire trucks spraying at once. Enough to fill a swimming pool in under an hour.

“Didn’t that catfolk mage say a 6th-rank could last five minutes?”

Her Imagery was only the size of a cottage. No wonder it would collapse under a deluge like this in minutes.

“But me? I’m different.”

I stood at the mountain’s peak and looked out.

The whole cityscape sprawled beneath, sky and earth stretching without end.

—A vast world.

To pollute a world this immense with a trickle of filth? It’d take forever. More than that, my Imagery could clean itself faster than it was dirtied.

“Which means I’m basically immune to mental attacks. Huh.”

Not bad… but could I use this for something more practical than just fighting monsters?

“…Hold on. Isn’t a Geas a mental bind too? Doesn’t this mean I can just ignore Geas penalties?”

A thrill ran down my spine.

A Geas-free pass.

“In other words, I could lie through my teeth and get away with it. Gods above. What a jackpot.”

While I was congratulating myself on my genius discovery, fake Shia and fake Yuribel shook their fists at me in anger.

I raised my hands in apology.

“Sorry, sorry. My bad. I know I dirtied the place. Won’t happen again… well, maybe. You understand the situation, right?”

Fake Yuribel sighed, summoned a massive hose from nowhere, and jammed it into the sewage-spewing hole. Then she flew off, opening a manhole at the foot of the mountain and directing the filth straight into the sewers.

The stream diverted, she wiped her brow proudly.

“…That’s it?”

She nodded.

“Well. Sewage belongs in the sewer, after all.”

Even as fake Yuribel handled the Imagery’s mess, in reality I pressed forward toward where Shia should be.

The wraiths leered endlessly, shoving their grotesque faces toward me.

“Back off, bastards. Holy Light.”

Each time, I blasted radiance into the air, scattering them like ashes in the wind.

Even if it was just a low-level priestly miracle, holy light was still holy light. Each time golden radiance burst through the air, the wraiths shrieked like lonely single men spotting couples arm-in-arm on Christmas Eve.

—Kkiiiieeeeaaak!!!

Realizing their mental assault wasn’t working, the wraiths changed tactics.

[Where are you, Geom-shin…? Mommy hurts. It hurts so much. Where did you go, leaving me here…?]

A voice. Not just a whisper in my mind—an actual voice hanging in the air.

I flinched without meaning to.

“…You filthy bastards.”

[Brother… sniff… it’s too hard for me….]

[Geom-shin, you bastard!! Isn’t it your fault Mom and Suyeon got worse!? Huh!? Because you disappeared!!]

[Suyeon! Suyeon!! Your mom is gone, and now if you leave too, what’s your father supposed to do!! Hrk… sob…]

As expected of high-class wraiths. They’d read my surface thoughts and were spitting back the wounds that would cut deepest.

Yuribel had already sworn that my mother and sister’s cancer was gone. I knew this was bullshit.

I knew it. And still…

“Damn it. Alright. This one got through. Bastards. Fine. You’ll live for now, but next time—you’d better be ready to die.”

Finding Shia wasn’t hard.

A little deeper in, the wraiths were surging wildly around one spot.

Their chaotic chorus made it obvious.

[…chested!]

[…board!!]

[…cup!!]

So they were hammering her with the same kind of mental attack—picking through her trauma and weaponizing it.

“Wait… those voices sound… familiar.”

FLASH!!

I blasted another burst of holy light and sprinted forward through the opening.

The voices grew clearer as I closed the distance—along with Shia’s furious shouts in reply.

[Flat-chested!]

“No I’m not!!”

[Washboard!!]

“Shut up!!”

[AAA-cup!!]

“I’m an A-cup! Just a plain A! Not triple, quadruple, quintuple A!!”

…What the hell kind of nightmare was this?

Seriously, wraiths. Out of everything you could’ve dragged out of her mind, this was the best you could do? Either Shia’s head was full of flowers, or these guys were just pathetically bad at their job.

And then it clicked—that voice mocking her? That was my voice.

[The Hero only loves great, lofty breasts! Who’d care about barren, empty plains like yours!?]

“No!! That’s not true!!”

[Angels~ angels~~ curves flowing and endless~]

[Demons~ demons~~ flat and pointless, just drawing lines~]

[Was it milled by a machine~ carved out by a drill~]

[You’re nothing but the spare~ when the angel comes, you’ll be replaced~]

“You!! I’ll kill youuuuu!!”

…Maybe I should just go home.

I almost lost my grip on reality in that farce of a battlefield, but I tightened my focus and raised Astraphe.

“Get lost!”

Skkrrkkkaaaang!!

Horizontal, vertical, diagonal, back again. Golden arcs of light sliced through, and every wraith caught in the radiance howled and unraveled.

—Kkiiiieeeek!!

Cutting a path through the wall of spirits, I finally reached her. Shia, still perched on Hosik’s back, was locked in a screaming match with literal ghosts.

I grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and yanked her down.

“…What the hell are you doing?”