Chapter Fifty-Two: You May Say I Can, But She Cannot

Through Mayuna’s account, Ruby learned the story of a man named Ryan Elsman.

Three years prior, a secondary city in the Holy Empire was suddenly attacked by an eighth-rank magical beast—the Golden Sword Lion. Such a creature typically commands a considerable territory within the Forest of Magical Beasts and possesses intelligence equal to that of humans. No one knew why it had left its domain to assault humans, but for the citizens of that city, it was an unparalleled calamity.

The lion, its golden body towering two stories high, had fur that could transform into a rain of golden blades. Before such a beast, human magicians seemed feeble—their spells couldn’t even scratch its hide. When the people had resigned themselves to death, a hero appeared. Yet that “hero” was nothing grand: merely a group of twenty magicians led by a single mage.

It was an unfortunate moment—at that time, the Holy Empire was facing imminent war with the armies of the Griffin and Tidal Empires; conflict loomed on every front. The Empire could spare no troops for reinforcement, being beset on all sides, and the group sent to aid the city was a small, obscure band of mages.

Yet in the end, the story concluded, as all such tales do, with the triumph of the heroes. The magicians, through cunning, blood, and sheer stubbornness, wore the Golden Sword Lion down until it was a bleeding wreck. When all was done, the last man standing before the beast was a young man named Ryan. Gritting his teeth, he prepared to draw the surrounding mana into himself, intending to self-detonate and perish alongside the monster. In that moment, a bolt of lightning crashed down from the heavens, striking the lion dead on. The beast, felled by this sudden stroke, died instantly.

No one could have predicted such a dramatic turn. The surviving magicians rushed to Ryan’s aid, but his heartbeat grew ever fainter. Someone recalled that the more powerful a magical beast, the more potent its blood—most especially that within the heart. With nothing left to lose, they cut out the lion’s heart, crushed it, and fed it to Ryan.

After that battle, Ryan lay in a coma for a month. When he awoke, he was irrevocably changed—his strength had soared to that of a Mage, while their original captain had perished in battle. The Emperor, impressed by the young man’s perseverance, promoted him to captain, and the group was henceforth known as the Golden Sword Lion.

As for the war, it never erupted. The incident with the Golden Sword Lion had sounded an alarm in the neighboring Blackstone Empire. All understood the principle: if the Holy Empire fell, the next magical beast assault could very well target them. Thus, Blackstone, long neutral, finally signed an alliance with the Holy Empire.

Now, at only twenty-eight, Ryan had become an Archmage and, due to his methods, earned the Emperor’s trust; under his leadership, the mage corps had become one of the strongest directly under the Royal Family.

“You know it all so well.”

Indeed, there were many inexplicable things in this world. By Ruby’s reckoning, that man’s very genes must have been altered. Stifling the urge to dissect and analyze, Ruby found newfound respect for the source of this information—Mayuna.

“Because I was the one who cast that lightning bolt,” Mayuna replied with a playful grin, revealing a most startling truth.

“…Huh?” Ruby didn’t grasp her meaning at first. Only after recalling every word she’d spoken did he remember the casually mentioned bolt of lightning.

“Hehe, all you need to know is that, no matter how powerful anyone is in this world, I’ll always be just a little stronger,” Mayuna said with rare smugness, thoroughly enjoying the surprise on Ruby’s face. After speaking, she fell silent, content to stay by his side.

“That’s all for today; I’m not feeling well,” announced Kaisk XIII, waving his hand as the morning meeting drew to a close and preparing to retire to his chambers. Yet, even as the Emperor departed, there were those unwilling to let matters rest—such as the greatly embarrassed Old Ayad.

“Young man, mind your tongue next time,” Ayad barked. “You won’t always have the luck to be shielded by the Archmage. For all we know, you may not have cured her at all; perhaps it was the Archmage’s own body that dispelled the curse, and your presence was mere coincidence. I’d sooner trust her resilience than the abilities of a wet-behind-the-ears brat like you!”

Old Ayad was the very image of arrogant seniority. The Archmage’s presence beside Ruby did not trouble him in the least; he hardly believed she would kill him for speaking his mind—especially given his status as the kingdom’s foremost healer. Each year, he rendered indispensable service to the royal family and the nobility. Who among them could claim perfect health? He could almost shout, “This entire hall is filled with my people! Hahaha!”

Mayuna was, of course, annoyed, prepared to teach him a lesson, but Ruby restrained her. Such toothless ridicule did not stir him; if Mayuna defended him, she would only seem petty. Better to go home early and have a meal.

Mayuna, reading his intent in his eyes, pouted but reluctantly agreed.

“Even an Archmage can be shortsighted. You’d do well to heed your elders’ words,” Ayad called after them as Ruby’s foot crossed the threshold of the great hall. This time, he included Mayuna in his scorn.

“I had thought, at your age, you’d possess some wisdom, but never did I expect such crude words,” Ruby replied, abandoning his earlier resignation to confront Old Ayad directly. The nobles who had been preparing to depart now turned to watch; such drama was rare even in the teahouses.

“You reject, misunderstand, and refuse to acknowledge anything new. How can you be so sure I cannot heal, simply because you cannot? It’s precisely because of people like you that this world never advances.”

“You, you…” Ayad tried to retort, finger pointed at Ruby, but was rudely interrupted. Though free of vulgarity, Ruby’s words were as piercing and relentless as a storm, battering Ayad’s mind.

“Enough. As the Emperor’s healer, you ought to seek a cure for his illness, not persecute those who might succeed where you have failed. What are your true intentions? You’re hardly young—you’ll soon have to report to the Netherworld—yet you cannot even cure a minor ailment. Should anything befall His Majesty due to this illness, how will you answer to the twelve emperors who came before?”

“His Majesty is in agony, and what have you accomplished, Healer Ayad? You are a broken-backed cur, still yapping before the nobles. Never have I witnessed such shamelessness!”

“You! You—ugh!” Ayad’s eyes bulged; his whole body trembled as if struck by some affliction, and at last he collapsed in the center of the hall.

“Let’s go home.” Ruby cast a cold glance at the fallen Ayad, then returned to Mayuna’s side and spoke softly.

“What’s this? Losing your temper all of a sudden?” Mayuna only now realized that the man who usually answered only with a grunt or a nod had unleashed such a torrent of words, and had even driven that old man to faint. She felt incredibly vindicated! Moreover, though Ruby’s voice had been loud, to her he’d seemed more like an adorable, bristling kitten. She smiled, asking with feigned innocence.

“It’s nothing.”

“Really nothing?”

“You’re annoying.”

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PS: Sacrifice for dog food*1