As the Bloody Pact ceased, the crimson haze over his vision returned to normal.
A familiar wave of fatigue gently washed over him.
Soon after, the roar and dust settled, revealing Isabelle still standing firm.
She had blocked the magic missile spell through a shield.
But there was something even more astonishing than that.
… Eldarion Spell?
It was a spellcasting format used in the Magocracy.
An ancient Elvish language, segmented into three syllables, chanted in a classical manner.
Isabelle had just used it.
Clemens recognized it and widened his eyes.
Mages from the Magocracy were notoriously conservative and insular.
No matter how much money was offered, they refused to share their knowledge.
Yet Isabelle?
“… How on earth?”
Before Clemens could ask anything, an old man suddenly appeared out of thin air.
A 5th Circle teleportation spell, Blink — and cast without any verbal incantation.
Casting spatial magic without a single trigger word was incredibly difficult.
The old man stared at Isabelle in utter astonishment.
“Isabelle, e khan tuke? (Isabelle, is that really you?)”
“Gypsy language?”
Though the intonation was somewhat unique, Glenn recognized it as the gypsy tongue he had learned in a past life.
As the old man approached, Isabelle respectfully bowed her head to him.
Fluent gypsy words flowed from her lips as well.
“Ava, lungo drom, Drabarni Tunetoris. (Yes, it’s been a long time, Lord Tunetoris.)”
“Oh, heavens — you’ve changed beyond recognition. Had it not been for the spell, I might not have recognized you.”
“You still look calm, my lord. Truly a blessing.”
Isabelle clasped the old man’s hand, genuinely glad.
The old man’s eyes glistened with tears.
Glenn furrowed his brow and focused to interpret their exchange.
“How did this happen, Young Master?”
Nedian asked, dazed.
Glenn himself wore a slightly baffled expression.
… They seem to have a priest-disciple relationship?
“Eh? Seriously?”
“I’m not certain either. We need an explanation. But first, let’s move the wounded.”
Even Francis’s soldiers were dumbfounded.
All eyes from both factions were fixed on Isabelle and the old man.
After a brief exchange, Isabelle glanced toward Glenn.
“Prince Glenn.”
“What is going on? Who exactly is that old man — no, that person?”
“He is Lord Tunetoris. For now, he is on our side.”
“… Huh?”
You want me to believe that?
They had just moments ago been fighting to the death.
“There isn’t time for a long explanation. Let’s organize the situation first.”
“… Yes, that’s true.”
Glenn had momentarily forgotten the urgency of the matter.
Amid the chaos, one of Francis’s knights shouted.
“Lord Tunetoris! What is this madness? Didn’t you formally contract with Lord Francis?”
The mage who had been fighting alongside them just moments ago was now in conversation with the gypsy woman before switching sides.
What on earth was going on?
“Oh, the contract is void. The employer broke the terms first as of yesterday. Sorry — no, on second thought, no apologies necessary.”
“Wh-what are you talking about?”
“Do you know how many spells that blonde brat cast yesterday trying to catch her? Two per day was the condition, and it was way beyond that.”
The old man spoke shamelessly.
The listening knight’s face flushed red.
“This is treason, betrayal! Even if mages’ servants don’t understand loyalty, what is this during battle—”
“Heh heh, watch your mouth. That mage’s servant can hear you.”
Thwack—
Crack!
“Ugh!”
“W-what’s going on?!”
The old man slammed his staff onto the ground, and dozens of crossbowmen suddenly appeared, suppressing the soldiers.
In an instant, the situation reversed, leaving even Glenn unable to hide his shock.
***
Thanks to Tunetoris’s recruitment, the rest of the fight ended quickly and anticlimactically.
Though he hadn’t directly helped, the mere fact that a Francis-aligned mage had defected had huge influence.
“Francis?”
Glenn fought off his exhaustion as he heard Nedian’s report.
“He was taken into custody by the newly merged Sacred Knights later.”
“Things turned out easier than I thought.”
“Indeed, I didn’t expect such cooperation from the Paladins.”
The Paladins who had supported Francis until the end ultimately betrayed him at the last moment.
Of course, not all, only a faction led by one called Tol Sain.
Glenn briefly recalled the moment Tol Sain had cast a spell on him at the manor.
***
… The sword that serves the goddess, Tol Sain.
A man who exuded the aura of righteousness at first glance.
Tol Sain, who had cast the spell on Glenn at the manor, respectfully greeted him.
There was no sign of hostility.
“Ron Glenn Lepent. Do you have anything to say?”
… Are you planning to arrest High Priest Francis?
“Yes. Where is he?”
At that question, Tol Sain closed his eyes as if considering for a moment.
“What about Lord Clemens?”
“Clemens? He’s a rescue target.”
Glenn replied coldly.
He wasn’t too keen on suffering to rescue Clemens.
Come to think of it, was the man even alive?
Well, a warrior from a past life wouldn’t die so easily.
“… High Priest Francis is not qualified as a high priest. I will help you, but—please spare Lord Clemens.”
Is he willing to stab a knife into the back of a high priest for him?
The warrior’s fortune must be quite good.
“Did you not hear? He’s a rescue target.”
“No — I’ll explain later. For now, let’s move.”
He skillfully guided them through a secret passage.
Francis was already escaping the manor but hadn’t gotten far.
His eyes shook without hesitation as he looked at Glenn.
“Long time no see, priest.”
“You… you! How did you get here…?”
Then all eyes turned silently to Tol Sain.
“Tol Sain, have you also gone mad? You dare betray me? Do you intend to insult the goddess?”
“… This is for her honor.”
“You fool—Khh!”
Smack!
Glenn’s right hook landed squarely on his face without warning.
“How about getting a grip on the situation?”
“You damned scoundrel! Do you think I’ll just let you get away with this?!”
A very typical line, and Glenn’s smirk darkened further.
“Worry about yourself.”
With a slight gesture, his subordinates took Francis away.
“Damn bastards! Drop that sword!”
***
“Yeah, more Paladins cooperated than I expected.”
Creak—
Suddenly the door opened, and Isabelle entered.
She naturally joined the conversation.
“Lord Clemens was supposed to persuade the Paladins, right? Maybe that’s why?”
“… Did you eavesdrop?”
“Eavesdrop? I heard everything on the way here.”
Without hesitation, she took the seat beside Glenn.
“… Well, he did say something like that.”
Clemens had mentioned trying to secretly persuade those with similar views.
They couldn’t be unaware of the atrocities committed by High Priest Francis.
“But how is Clemens now? Has he come to his senses?”
Clemens had been found in the manor’s underground prison.
Others were also there, mostly innocent people dragged in as heretics.
“He’s badly injured but alive.”
“Thank you for your efforts.”
“To be honest, I didn’t do much. Saintess Monica treated him with utmost care. She seemed like she could even revive the dead.”
When Clemens was first found, his condition was dire.
His body was covered with bruises, stab wounds, and burns.
Monica, who was watching over him with tearful eyes, immediately tended to his injuries with great urgency.
Isabelle also wanted to help with blood magic but didn’t seem to need to.
The important matters were more or less sorted out.
Glenn asked what had been bothering him from the start.
“So, who exactly is that person?”
“Who?”
“The one the lord called ‘my lord.’”
“Oh, I haven’t told you yet.”
Tunetoris was a wandering mage from the duchy and a 7th Circle Archmage.
The exact reason he wandered was unclear.
To Isabelle, he was like a master who had briefly taught her magic.
He was also the one who introduced her to the Winter Cult when she was dying from an incurable disease.
Although the contract cost a great deal back then, the fact remained that he was her benefactor.
Tunetoris had little interest in worldly affairs.
He had come to Niran by chance after receiving the contract’s notice, purely out of whimsy.
Somehow, he was hired by Francis along the way.
There wasn’t much to complain about — he had planned to go to Niran anyway, and it was a convenient way to earn some extra payment.
He had no interest in civil war or similar matters.
He just helped as per the contract because he was paid to do so.
When he was hired, he introduced himself as a 4th Circle, so he used magic only up to the 4th Circle.
Doing more than that for extra payment was against his principles.
“Is that for real? You just signed a contract without much thought and fought?”
“… He was originally a free spirit.”
“As a Grand Mage, the contract money is pocket change, right?”
“My lord is very interested in various researches. I don’t know if you know, but in this era, there isn’t much hobby that costs as much money.”
Magic, invention, history, magitechnology — he researched countless things.
But since he never stayed in one place for long, he always needed a lot of money.
In many ways, he was an unpredictable person.
“… Quite an extraordinary person.”
At Glenn’s comment, Isabelle nodded obediently.
“Still, he’s a good person. At least to me, an invaluable benefactor.”
“Did you also learn the Eldarion Spell from him?”
“Yes. But how did you recognize it was Eldarion? Most people don’t even know it exists.”
“… I heard it coincidentally. The Magocracy uses a peculiar way to cast spells.”
More precisely, Glenn learned it from mages of the Magocracy he faced in a past life.
It was not an easy method to handle.
“It’s a very old and complicated method. Even with the same spell, the chanting varies slightly from caster to caster.”
The Eldarion Spell method was simple in theory but entirely composed by the caster from start to finish.
Thus, spells completed with this method could never be exactly the same in the world.
“Thanks to that, I could immediately tell it was your spell. Oh, and I just realized I haven’t thanked you yet.”
She smiled slightly and pointed at Glenn with her folded hands.
He bowed slightly.
“… Thank you. I’ll be more careful next time —”
“If that’s all, then enough. You have no idea how much Sasha gave me trouble.”
As she finished speaking, a sudden knock sounded.
Knock knock—
“Young Master, Lord Tol Sain is here to see you.”
“Hm? Did you call him?”
When Clemens looked back at Nedian, he nodded.
“… No. Should I tell him to come back later?”
“Call him in for now.”
The door opened, revealing a slightly haggard-looking Paladin.
“Apologies for the sudden visit.”
“What is it?”
After hesitating briefly, he knelt, pressing a knee to the ground.
“Please spare Lord Clemens.”
“What? He is already being treated. So—”
“Yes, I know that.”
“Then what exactly do you mean?”
Tol Sain raised his head and looked directly into Glenn’s eyes.
“At this rate, Lord Clemens will surely be executed.”
Glenn furrowed his brow.