Anna Helmenius. The grand magician, a master of magic from the Second War who was over two hundred years old, possessed an unexpectedly remarkable talent for cooking.
Even Aslan, who had lost the sense of taste, could appreciate the skill in the texture and preparation of the food.
The Northern Empire-style braised lamb was made from lamb ribs that exuded a wild essence, much like the rugged terrain between the wilderness and the sea.
The lamb ribs marinated in a sauce with a hint of blue had an aesthetic appeal all on its own.
“Delicious!”
Phey ate the lamb ribs as if they knew exactly how to do it, deliberately smearing sauce around their mouth to mimic a child as closely as possible.
“Just a moment, little one. Look here.”
Anna smiled softly, seemingly pleased with Phey’s antics, and gently wiped the corners of Phey’s mouth.
This entire sequence seemed to be an attempt by the grand magician to reclaim stolen time, a desperate act that left a bitter taste in the observer’s mouth.
Only then did Phey eat the lamb ribs more politely. Throughout the meal, Phey gave Aslan a mischievous smile that clearly said, “I’m doing well; you should praise me, shouldn’t you?”
“Aslan!”
As if deciding to settle the praise now in their own way, Phey speared a piece of meat with a fork and offered it to Aslan.
“Aren’t you going to try?”
Anna watched Aslan with eyes filled with anticipation, perhaps finding Phey’s actions endearing or maybe seeing them as part of her lost past.
With no choice but to comply, Aslan smiled gently and opened their mouth to accept the piece of meat Phey offered.
The texture of chewing was the only thing that ran across Aslan’s tongue; their completely deadened sense of taste failed to transmit any flavor to Aslan’s brain.
Nevertheless, Aslan could feel the effort put into this meticulously crafted dish. There was no gaminess, no off-putting smell of the meat. The texture, which could have been tough, was soft enough to chew easily just a few times.
It was evident how desperately Anna Helmenius longed to recover her stolen past. Whether she planned to cook such dishes when she revived her daughter or had been practicing while indulging in these fantasies, Aslan couldn’t tell.
A bittersweet feeling spread beyond Aslan’s lost sense of taste, and they forced a wry smile before speaking.
“It’s delicious.”
Of course, Aslan had no sense of taste. They had no way of knowing whether it was good or not. Even if there were poison, it would be hard to detect, and even if the food were contaminated and unpleasant to eat, Aslan wouldn’t feel any discomfort. The loss of taste due to overuse of Equalization was irreversible, making the compliment merely routine.
But Anna accepted even this routine compliment with joy, as if the scene of her daughter and husband returning before her eyes was unfolding.
Laughing and chatting with her child, sharing meals with her family, receiving compliments on her cooking from her husband—Anna touched her pendant absentmindedly while imagining her blurred memories were like this.
The thought suddenly crossed her mind: if she revived her daughter, would she be able to do similar things? She suppressed the rising impulse and smiled brightly.
The change in expression was subtle, imperceptible without the keen observation skills of someone like Aslan or Phey. Aslan exchanged a silent glance with Phey, who sighed inwardly upon receiving it.
After discreetly noting the pendant’s position, Phey suddenly shouted.
“Mom Anna, comb my hair for me!”
“…Ah.”
At the shout, Anna finally snapped out of her reverie. Coming back from her thoughts, she blinked her cloudy eyes and looked at Phey.
“Yes, dear. Come here.”
Phey approached Anna after giving Aslan a quick sidelong glance, and soon Anna began combing Phey’s hair.
To the casual observer, it appeared to be a heartwarming scene of a mother and daughter bonding, but Aslan knew the truth—that Phey was preparing to snatch the pendant at any moment, plotting her next move.
There was no avoiding the question: was it necessary to go down such a coercive path?
Thinking about it briefly, Aslan had no choice. The person inside that pendant was already a priest, and if released into the world, many people would die.
‘…If only that were all that mattered.’
Aslan glanced out the window casually while thinking.
[Ongoing Sub-Quest]
[! Survive the Priest Assault]
[! Liberate or Kill Anna’s Daughter]
The translucent system window, which had repeatedly urged Aslan since arriving in Geladridion, was pushing them again.
Better personal scars than deaths.
Choose the lesser evil.
Aslan sighed, stood up from their seat, and checked their belongings.
Confirming their sword, belt, armor, cloak, and a few scrolls purchased from the market, Aslan suddenly realized Anna was watching them.
“…What are you preparing for?”
In response to Anna’s question, Aslan remained silent. Understanding the silence somehow, Anna set down the comb she held, while Phey stopped fidgeting with their leg and looked around nervously.
An uncomfortable silence hung in the air. Aslan faintly smiled upon hearing approaching footsteps. It made sense. Shortly afterward, a voice came from beyond the wooden door.
“Master!”
It was the man who had guided Aslan to Anna and Phey before. Anna glared at Aslan with green light emanating from her eyes before answering.
“What is it, Beren? If it’s about the city…”
“It’s not that!”
The door burst open, revealing Beren, his face pale with visible panic.
The usually cautious man, who wouldn’t open the door without his master’s permission, was now acting rudely for the first time.
Always careful, Beren’s unprecedented behavior signaled something serious. Sensing this, Anna frowned slightly.
“Priests… priests are coming! They’re crossing the sea!”
Priests.
Anna’s eyes widened as she realized her illusion magic had been ignored by the priests and understood what Aslan had been preparing for.
“You…”
Thus, questioning the possibility of betrayal was justified. To the woman raising mana, Aslan gently shook their head and smiled.
As Anna blinked at the shaking head, Aslan looked out the window again. Beyond the window lay the sea.
Reaching the city of wizards by swimming triggered an event that could be called a special quest.
And according to Aslan’s knowledge, once this quest began, the Veil of Mercy would send priests to retrieve the soul it owned.
The protagonist fights these priests to protect Anna Helmenius, but eventually, Anna Helmenius meets her death at the hands of her freed daughter.
This was the wizard city quest known to Aslan.
The crux was there.
That Anna Helmenius must die.
Aslan was here to prevent that.
The man resting their hand on the hilt stood silently gazing at the sea with a melancholic look before speaking.
“Anna, get up. Prepare to fight.”
Before Anna could ask questions, Aslan moved and continued speaking.
“Their target is you and your daughter.”
Aslan stepped outside, and soon distant explosions echoed.
*
Kuuuung!
With the explosion, a pale fog spread widely. Nothing remained where the fog spread, only the frozen and split traces of humans and those who were once human.
At the center of the fog, which dyed the sea white as it advanced, were several priests.
Men and women dressed in pristine white robes so clean they seemed almost transparent. Their faces contorted with fear, they ran desperately.
“Kill the mage, find our brethren!”
As one of the priests shouted, they began fleeing toward civilians and mages indiscriminately swinging their limbs.
Wherever they swung, white death arose, freezing and killing people.
“Save me, I―”
Muffling the pleading voices, the priests scattered coldness. Those caught in it died with distorted expressions, frozen mid-scream.
Beyond this indiscriminate slaughter, the priests found their next targets: soldiers. Clad in armor, crouching low, these men aimed cudgels at the priests.
Covering their heads with their arms, the priests lowered their bodies and accelerated, leaving only faint streaks behind as they dashed like arrows. An explosion followed their acceleration.
Fear-inducing reckless charges. However, the mages mechanically aimed their cudgels.
“FIRE!”
Though drowned out by the explosions, the command was given, and the well-trained mages reacted swiftly. Kneeling on one knee, they aimed their cudgels, channeled mana, and pulled the triggers.
Tuuung!
Blue-tipped cudgel bolts flew through the air amidst the explosions. When these bolts pierced the rising mist and struck, the mage extended their hand.
Mouthing words and forming signs, mana drained from them simultaneously.
Kuaaaang!
The mana discharged connected with the blue-tipped cudgel bolt, causing it to flare explosively and swell massively. The body of the priest, expanding from within, split in half.
The white death rolling on the ground. The mages quickly aimed their cudgels at the next target.
“Take cover, take cover, take cover!”
With the following sound of cudgels firing, armored mages rose and took cover in alleys. The priests, having suffered some casualties, attempted to pursue them.
“Front line, kneel and fire!”
The pursuit was thwarted by four incoming cudgel bolts from the alley. The arrows stuck and flared with different magics, each extinguishing a priest with every flash of magical brilliance.
“Rotate, fire!”
Tututuung!
Cudgels fired successive blue-tipped bolts and cast spells. Thus armed, the mages killed another priest and reloaded their cudgels.
Kuaaaaang!
Behind the alley where the mages had retreated, the wall collapsed, revealing a priest.
A giant of a priest, whose arm alone was the size of a human head, growled and crushed a mage behind the second line underfoot.
Kwajijijik!
The sound of a human being crushed alive in their armor was eerie. With another rush of coldness, the mages gritted their teeth and groaned.
“Ignore, ignore, i―”
Again, the sound of a human being crushed echoed as another mage perished, prompting the others to flee down the alley.
In this mad dash through the alleyways, mages died. Proud mages who had sworn to defend the city fell one by one, their innards spilling as they froze.
Only ten mages remained—a number far too few. Despair overwhelmed the lead mage, who clenched their teeth and swallowed a groan.
“Clear space ahead! Everyone regroup here…!”
When despair reached its peak as the lead mage finally reached the clearing, they were met with priests already encircling them in a rounded formation.
Seeing this encirclement, the mages who had rushed out of the alley turned pale and trembled.
Clashing teeth, tears streaming down faces, some vomited on the ground. Just as the mages resigned themselves to death, something unexpected happened.
Eeeeeeek, Kwajijijik!
Out of nowhere, something flew and pierced the chest of a priest, emerging on the other side.
It was an arrow.
The priest, whose heart had been pierced, fell to the ground with wide eyes, the arrow embedded in their body trembling faintly as it scattered life onto the floor.
As the priests turned their heads towards the source of the arrow, two figures emerged slowly from the shadows, moving gracefully as if dancing.
One was a woman.
As she passed by a wounded priest struggling to rise, she spun her axe and cleanly severed their head with a loud thud.
The trail of the axe scraping the ground and the rolling head revealed the approach of a red-scaled giant.
Puuh!
Crushing the fallen priest’s head underfoot, the giant exhaled heavily and spoke.
“There’s something strange about these guys. I aimed for the head, didn’t I? Isn’t that right? My aim was perfect.”
“That’s because they’re priests of the Veil of Mercy. They can freeze time and space… Maybe the arrows veered off course.”
The white-haired woman replied to the statement. The leisurely conversation seemed out of place, causing both priests and mages to hesitate, prompting the red-scaled giant to flick his tail lightly and laugh.
“If they can freeze things, we’ll just shoot harder then.”
With a cheerful grin revealing a carefree nature, the dragon-like man glanced at the mages at his feet and spoke.
“Hey! You there… What was it again?”
“Aslan called us the Blue Arrow Legion.”
“…Does the name matter? In the face of struggle, we are all equal warriors! Names don’t matter!”
Through this exchange, the mages blinked in confusion as the man nocked another arrow onto his bow and grinned.
“This is support sent by the great warrior Aslan. Be grateful.”
Before the mages could respond, a thunderous roar accompanied the arrow’s flight from the bow.
