Make Dark Fantasy Great Again
Chapter 56: Mages and Clergy (4)

: Pretty sure it’s like 100 for tail feathers, 300 for wing feathers, and 500 for body feathers.

[OP] : nah wtf, 500??

that’s basically clearing almost all the fate quests, no?

-[OP] : how that even make sense? the scale is completely different.

: There’s this event quest where you rescue a whole bunch of sacrifices from a black mage. This one gives a crazy amount of Karma.

: wats the logic yo

-[OP] : maybe its that? fate quests happen after shit already went down, so fixing them doesn’t give that much karma, but the event quest is about preventing the disaster, so you get a ton?

-[OP] : nah wtf then why didn’t they design the system around that??

-[OP] : hey why the sudden aggression o. o....

-[OP] : aha.

***Bardros’ dark eyes wavered as the Purity Feather’s pristine glow dimmed.

This...is a body feather?

Gerhen had claimed it was a tail feather. But in truth, it was a body feather in disguise.

Realizing the deceit woven into the item, Bardros instinctively turned to Risir, honing in using her Divine Sight that could uncover one’s true essence.

But he appeared unchanged from the first time they met. The man remained just as unreadable as before.

The Divine Sight revealed only a single, absolute truth—Risir was someone who could never be touched by evil. It was as if something about him, something beyond words, etched the certainty of his goodness into Bardros’ very being.

Never before had her Divine Sight outright defined a person’s essence; it had only ever offered a fragment of truth to guide judgment.

Bardros had already recognized Risir’s extraordinary nature...but this was beyond anything she had anticipated.

The body feather hadn’t faded in the slightest.

Her thoughts drifted back over the years spent within the Church. It was a span of time that would have felt like an eternity to the young, years filled with boundless experiences and uncountable acts of virtue.

She had performed deeds that would take an ordinary priest lifetimes to accomplish. And yet, this man called Risir had already surpassed her in merit, despite his youth.

How? Had he saved an entire city from destruction? Had he struck down some great, world-threatening evil?

No matter the explanation, it sounded like the stuff of legends.

But then, her eyes swept over the rest of Risir’s party.

By the gods...

Bardros could not hide her shock as her gaze fell upon the girl cloaked in pure white. How was she meant to make sense of this? Of that girl, and of Risir standing beside her?

Her questions surrounding the young wandering mage only grew.

“High Priest?”

Risir’s voice snapped her from her thoughts. She had let herself be consumed by contemplation, but now was not the time for that.

Regaining her composure, Bardros returned the Purity Feather to Risir and addressed the gathered crowd.

“It is genuine.”

There was no need to draw attention to Risir’s unique purity. No need to expose Gerhen’s deceit.

“The tail feather didn’t react at all...”

“Isn’t that something possible only for priests of the Church?”

“More precisely, only fully consecrated priests. It’s one of the requirements for their ascension.”

Risir’s Purity Feather had remained unblemished.

“The tail feather burned away...?”

“Unbelievable. Just what kind of life have you been living?”

“I’m quite sure that only happens with a wing feather. Even criminals only make a tail feather darken.”

Gerhen’s Purity Feather, on the other hand, lost its purity.

The stark contrast between the two left the onlookers utterly spellbound, twisting their perception and forcing them to choose sides—just as Gerhen had planned.

“No...”

Gerhen murmured in disbelief. He wanted to scream from the frustration.

You imbeciles! Do you think I’d be so retarded to sabotage my own standing, just to make someone else look special?! Use your damn heads!

Isn’t it obvious that something is off?!

But the moment he spoke his mind, the imbecile in question would no longer be them.

-Didn’t you start this? Why are you throwing a tantrum at us?

That was the response he’d get. Without a doubt.

“Master Gerhen.”

Risir’s voice cut through his spiraling thoughts.

“Are you satisfied now?”

He spoke with complete formality, but that smirking expression...Gerhen could almost hear the unspoken message behind it.

Urgh, you’re exhausting. Just be on your way already.

His jaw clenched, and then—he ultimately snapped.

Unfiltered words spilled from his lips as rage overtook reason.

“Honored students! Please listen! I had no part in this! That Purity Feather was acquired by my assistant, Koran!”

“...!”

In the noble faction’s corner, a small, wiry man stiffened, his eyes widening in shock.

Koran was Gerhen’s assistant, a common-born apprentice mage who had only been admitted into the Gray Tower thanks to Gerhen’s strong endorsement.

-You must never forget how much my influence secured your place here. And you must never forget your position.

Gerhen had drilled those words into him time and time again, ensuring Koran remained utterly dependent.

And now, even here, with all eyes on him, the apprentice shrank under Gerhen’s gaze, frozen like a frog before a snake. His hunched shoulders trembled, his head dipped low.

“Koran! Explain yourself at once!”

To bear Master Gerhen’s disgrace, or to defy Master Gerhen’s will.

Koran weighed both outcomes in his mind, and surprisingly...he leaned toward the first. For a powerless, common-born mage, there was nothing more terrifying than the wrath of a master mage leading the nobles faction.

After all, no one in this city or the mage tower would take his side over Gerhen’s.

Koran recalled every moment he had suffered injustice, every time the world had turned its back on him.

But just as he resigned himself to his fate...

“There was no issue with the Purity Feather. Isn’t that right?”

Risir spoke as he looked at Koran.

“Wh-what?!”

The startled Koran recoiled slightly.

Is he talking to me?

He glanced around, looking for any sign of what others might be thinking. As he did, the things he hadn’t noticed before came into focus.

No one was turning their back on him anymore to avoid crossing Gerhen. The students of the mage tower were looking at him with pity.

Gerhen’s shadow was no longer so great as to smother his entire world.

Instead of siding with Master Gerhen, who led the noble faction, countless students were now aligning themselves with Risir, the wandering bastard mage.

Koran gladly surrendered himself to that atmosphere and faced Gerhen, albeit with difficulty.

“I-I don’t know anything about this...”

It was to be expected. Gerhen would never entrust such a plan, tied to his prestigious name, to a mere assistant.

“B-but, there is one thing I know...”

One night, the same as usual, Koran had been up late handling the mountain of menial tasks Gerhen had assigned him.

To clear his exhausted mind, he had gone out for a late-night walk in the courtyard, only to spot Gerhen sneaking off somewhere.

“Master Gerhen...there are two main reasons why you’d be walking in that direction at that time...The research storage room, or the underground maze...Usually, you’d have me handle the research storage room, but that night was different. Why did you go there yourself...? Especially at such an unseemly hour when no one was looking...?”

Koran’s words sparked murmurs among the students.

A black mage’s sudden confession accusing Risir—if anyone stood to gain from this, who could it be?

“Master Gerhen.”

This time, the inquisitor’s eyes gleamed with interest.

To protect his own hide, Gerhen sought perjury from the black mage, slandering an innocent. He was a clear candidate for guidance.

“I would like to hear the details.”

“Y-you don’t have the right to question me!”

Meltas immediately raised his hand, as if he had been waiting for this.

“I am Master Meltas. Before we formally request cooperation from the Church regarding the black mage, I’d like to hear your opinions.”

Didoa quickly followed.

“I agree.”

And before long, one by one, the mages in the room raised their hands in agreement.

“I agree.”

“...Feryn, do you even know what you’re agreeing to?”

“Dunno. I’ll agree since Didoa agrees.”

By the end, all the mages except Gerhen had raised their hands, siding with Meltas. Even the noble faction that had followed Gerhen was now in opposition.

“How could you all...?”

Gerhen glared at them for a moment, feeling a sharp sting of betrayal.

“...”

Ultimately, all of his anger and resentment were directed at one person—Risir.

But just as his resentment was about to manifest into action...

“Don’t do anything foolish, Gerhen.”

At the sound of that cold voice, Gerhen regained his composure and surveyed the room.

“...”

In an instant, everything else faded, and he was left with nothing but pure confusion.

To Gerhen, the mage tower had always been an exclusive society that symbolized the power and uniqueness of certain mages.

But now, every mage here was openly hostile toward him, all for a single outsider of lowly birth.

Gerhen hung his head, overwhelmed by an inexplicable and crushing sense of defeat.

***

▷Event 44: ‘Expended Mage’ has been deactivated.

Corresponding perks will be awarded.

***

▷Event 56: ‘Violated Dream’ has been deactivated.

▷Event 94: ‘Stuffed Butterfly’ has been deactivated.

***...

...

...

...

...

***

...Corresponding perks will be awarded.

...Corresponding perks will be awarded.

...Corresponding perks will be awarded.

...Corresponding perks will be awarded.

...Corresponding perks will be awarded.

***

▷Region: ‘Gray Tower’ has been deactivated.

Corresponding perks will be awarded.

***“Whew.”

Even throwing a bullshit tantrum required incredible stamina and drive.

Gerhen, exhausted from his long fit, finally gave up and hung his head. The moment I saw that, a deep sigh escaped me.

I only came here to check on my condition. Who knew I’d get dragged into such an annoying mess?

Meltas smiled bitterly from the side.

“I am sorry to drag you into this, Risir. It might not be much of a comfort, but with this, all matters related to you will be resolved swiftly.”

“Comfort? Why of course I’m comforted. I suddenly feel all revitalized and—”

Maybe this is what they mean by, “Be careful what you say.”

The moment I said it, I really started to feel revitalized.

On second thought, this wasn’t vitality. It was...

“This man. Not again.”

“Goodness me, Risir. Could you stop increasing your magic power like that? You really do it at the most random times.”

“Uh, please, you can complain all you want, but—”

My magic power ended up increasing yet again. It had become such a regular, almost irritating occurrence that the three of us exchanged empty jokes like it was no big deal.

“Hurk!”

Until we all remembered I was already in a state of mana overflux.

“...”

“...”

The two stared at me with wide eyes.

“Damn it—urk! Kahg!”

As I covered my mouth, my hand was instantly smeared with blood along with a few suspicious-looking lumps. I silently prayed they were just bits of mucus.

I couldn’t hide my bewilderment. Wasn’t a surge of magic power supposed to follow a case of normalization? But I hadn’t normalized anything today, had I?

“Hah—hah—”

I had to clamp my eyelids shut, as it felt like my eyes were about to pop out. A second later, I felt a warm liquid trickle from my closed eyes.

Please god, it’s tears right? Oh let it just be tears.

“AAAH! Risir!!!”

Dammit, it’s not.

My legs buckled, and I collapsed forward.

Clack-clack-clack. Something with four legs quickly approached and I felt a warm sensation on my face. It felt like Feryn was licking me.

Surprisingly, the area where she licked began to feel energized. But it wasn’t enough to improve my condition.

“Hi-High Priest! Help—!”

“Please, help!”

I could feel my hair standing on end. I hated the feeling of being in a state I couldn’t control.

“Kkhh—kkhh—”

Breathing was becoming harder by the second.

It was painful. I never thought I would experience such pain in my life.

The more I forced myself to breathe, the more intense the pain became.

“Hahh...! Hahh...!”

But the more I breathed, the more I focused on it. For some reason, it just felt like I had to. My struggle was driven purely by instinct.

Then, at some point, I came to a realization.

My magic power, struggling to break free from the narrow confines of my body, was responding to my respiration.

It was a strange sensation. After all, magic is a discipline that controls mana through the mind.

But mana responding to the body? This was clearly a phenomenon beyond the scope of mana. So what was it?

A memory from my days as a bastard surfaced—the Blue Breath.

It was a fundamental martial arts technique, contrasting with the mystic arts of magic. A knight’s skill I longed for but never managed to acquire, despite my desperate yearning.

Yet here I was, using it instinctively.

I could feel the mana that had filled my body to the brink of destruction slowly begin to merge with my form.

***“High Priest, please hurry...!”

Fienne anxiously pleaded with tears in her eyes.

Meanwhile, Bardros had already approached Risir and was ready to unleash her divine power.

“Wa-wait...”

But suddenly, Risir himself stopped Bardros.

He fought through his labored breaths, forcing the words out.

“Give me a little, just a little longer...”

“Risir?! What do you mean by that?!”

“Just a little...a little...”

Risir mumbled as if his mind was elsewhere.

His behavior reminded Bardros of the delirium she had seen in patients before. She suspected he might be in such a state and felt she couldn’t trust Risir to make decisions in this condition.

Bardros pressed on with the healing.

“...”

But then, a look of sudden confusion crossed her face.

Her gaze shifted to Risir’s chest. His breathing was rapid but steady, and with each rise and fall, she sensed a movement of magic power.

Bardros recalled another set of past patients—those who used their breath to control their bodies, healing wounds like superhumans.

“Blue Breath...?”

The high priest surprisingly lost her composure. A mage was performing the martial arts of warriors.

“Risir?”

The next to notice the anomaly were Risir’s companions; Fienne, Meltas, and Feryn. They began to observe Risir, entranced by what was happening.

Soon, other mages also noticed the bizarre(?) phenomenon occurring in Risir’s body and moved closer.

Meanwhile, Risir’s breathing gradually stabilized with every passing moment.

He accomplished this through his breathing, not his spirit. Rather than merely containing mana within his body, he was merging it with his very being.

As a result, the collapse caused by his body’s inability to manage the magic was delayed. The drain on his vitality, which had been weakening him, was replenished by the fresh energy he was generating.

One of the mages surrounding him made a quiet observation.

“Is he actually...learning Mana Breathing on the spot...?”

No one reacted to the comment, but inside, everyone was repeating the words in their minds.

In the strange silence, only Risir’s breath echoed steadily.

“Kugh—”

It was Risir who broke the silence. Judging that he could endure no longer, he said one more thing before promptly losing consciousness.

“Now! Please save me!”

It was the strangest cry for help any of them had ever heard.

Even as she felt bemused, the high priest immediately began the healing process.

Meanwhile, someone else murmured in realization.

“Thinking about it...wasn’t this person supposed to have just crossed the threshold of the 4th rank? I’m pretty sure the report on Tulan’s case said so...”

No one reacted to the comment, but inside, everyone was repeating the words in their minds.

***

■Risir

Level : 38

Race : Human

Class : Mage, Knight

***A long time passed since the incident that had caused the stir in the mage tower.

Risir regained consciousness in an unfamiliar bed. He shifted his gaze and nodded solemnly to himself.

“An angel...? I see...so I died after all...”

He was looking at Fienne, seated beside him.

She let out an exasperated sigh tinged with amusement.

“Looks like Rona and the high priest’s efforts paid off, considering the first thing you do after waking is spouting nonsense.”

“Rona and the high priest...?”

“Yes. While you were out cold, those two priests worked tirelessly on your behalf. Be sure to give proper thanks when you see them later. Now then...”

Fienne clapped her hands, shifting the mood.

“As a celebration for your awakening, I have both good news and bad news for you. Which would you like to hear first?”

“For starters, can you tell me how long I’ve been lying down for?”

“About two weeks.”

“...Is there worse news?”

“Your Mage Tower Supporter status is still on hold.”

“Maybe I woke up too soon. Should I sleep for another hundred years or so?”

“Feel free.”

“...And the good news is?”

“The reason your Supporter status is on hold.”

“Huh?”

“The Gray Tower wants you to become an honorary mage, not just a Supporter.”

“...So suddenly?”

Fienne gave a hollow chuckle as she stared off into the distance.

“Oh you little sleeping princess. You have no idea what happened while you were so deep in slumber.”