Episode 366

Even Dorothy hadn't noticed my disguise. What kind of trick had Ozma used to find out that I was wearing a Linchal Mask even though this was the first time we were meeting?

"You were hiding your appearance? Kuhahat! This is hilarious!" The man we ran into at the entrance burst out laughing and teased Dorothy. "Hey, Dorothy. How does it feel? You always trick others, but now you are getting tricked in return, huh? What happened to that so-called discerning eye of yours?"

"Shut up before I kill you, Ryan."

Ryan raised his arms dramatically. "Wow."

Meanwhile, Dorothy approached me with a terrifyingly stiff expression. Her eyes seemed completely crazy, and she was radiating killing intent.

For a moment, I glanced past Dorothy, toward the entrance we had come through. The same shabby door still stood there, but I doubted it functioned as an exit. Moving through space required specific conditions, and there was no guarantee I would return to the same place if I opened it. Besides, getting past Dorothy and her two companions to reach the door would not be easy.

In the meantime, Dorothy approached me and whispered, "Kid."

I said nothing.

"Take off your mask."

If you don't want to die... This was what she was implying.

However, I felt that removing the mask right now would be the worst possible move. I couldn't let this extraordinary group find out my identity, yet how should I respond?

I was in no position to provoke her, but under the circumstances, there was no other choice. I considered various possibilities in my mind and decided to take the most dangerous gamble. "Would you be able to handle it if you killed me here?"

Ryan chuckled at my provocative remark. "What are you trying to do?"

I didn't know who they were. Was this the Dark Church, the Abanaham Witch Society, or some other mysterious group I didn't know about? I still wasn't sure. However, I realized that these five people had one thing in common.

There are no martial artists here. Not a single one of the five people here had been trained in martial arts. Most of them carried an aura similar to Dorothy's.

"I am a subordinate of the Iron-Blooded Lord."

The moment I revealed my identity, everyone fell silent once more. The smile vanished from Ryan's face. Ozma, who had been staring into the air since she had stopped speaking, turned her gaze back to me. The rest of the group reacted the same way.

If these people were from the Dark Church, then what I had done would be completely insane. The Iron-Blooded Lord was their greatest enemy. By revealing my connection to him, I had essentially invited them to extract everything from me by torturing me and then kill me.

Then, I will just regress. However, I had bet on the possibility that the people here weren't from the Dark Church.

The woman who had appeared with us asked in a somewhat subdued voice, "Dorothy, is this true?"

Dorothy clicked her tongue. "What if it is true? Is there a problem?"

"You are insane!"

I inwardly clenched my fists the moment I heard this reproachful tone. As expected, it's the Abanaham Witch Society, not the Dark Church.

It was a bit strange that there was a man among witches, but just because the group was called a witch society, it didn't mean that only witches were members.

Ryan clicked his tongue. "I knew you would eventually cause big trouble. You first kidnapped a subordinate of the Iron-Blooded Lord, and now you want to kill him? Do you know what you have done?"

"I know better than you, so shut up. It could be Delac, but there is no way he'd make it to the Emerald Tower, right? He is an excellent hunter and tracker, but he isn't a mage," Dorothy retorted.

"Even if he's not able to come, he could figure out who did it," Ryan shot back.

Dorothy frowned. "Ah, I don't know. The Iron-Blooded Lord must have hundreds of subordinates. What's the big deal about killing one of them? Let's just kill him first and think about it later. I'll take responsibility for the consequences."

"Crazy woman," Ryan muttered. "I'm against this. This kid should be sent back where he came from."

"I agree with Ryan."

The two people we had met at the door had reached this conclusion. The way they spoke was rough, but they were surprisingly sane.

Then, a chilling voice cut in. "If you kill him..."

It came from the person seated at the round table with Ozma, who hadn't spoken until now. Their voice had a mechanical tone to it that made it difficult to determine their gender. Beneath the hood, their eyes looked eerie, like empty cavities.

"Could you give me his brain?"

What kind of psychopath is this?

Dorothy laughed slyly. "Of course. So you are in favor of this plan, right?"

"Only if I get the brain."

Dorothy nodded. "Okay. Then, including Crow, it is two against two."

Naturally, all eyes turned to the only person left, Ozma.

I noticed they spoke to each other in an informal manner, but if I had to identify a leader among them, it would be Ozma. I had no proof to support that conclusion. It was simply a feeling.

Dorothy spoke first. "Ozma, with your magic, you could erase any trace I left behind, right?"

"Yes."

"So if you helped me, even Delac wouldn't notice it was us. How about that?" Dorothy asked softly.

Ozma didn't respond. She was still staring into the air with a blank expression.

Dorothy, who seemed frustrated, said urgently, "I admit that I acted a bit rashly, but if we just send him back like this, who knows what kind of nonsense he will say."

Ozma hummed.

"Okay. If you help me, I'll give you the Golden Skull you wanted. How about that?" Dorothy offered.

Ozma looked at me, ignoring Dorothy's words. "Where did you get that mask?"

It wasn't hard to tell her. For some reason, I felt that lying now would be counterproductive. "From Dean Alderson."

There was a risk that the truth would be revealed due to Luan Badniker's actions at the dean's treasure trove, but the relationship between mages and witches was basically the worst. This was especially true for members of the Seven-Colored Archmages and the top witch society, who rarely had any contact with each other. Even if they did, they wouldn't talk peacefully, which was why I believed it was okay.

"The Purple Archmage, Alderson... That is strange. That old man has no black magic skills." Doubt appeared on Ozma's face. "You are lying. Or perhaps you are hiding something."

I wondered if all witches were quick-witted. The sense of unease that Ozma was probably feeling now was due to the Linchal Mask being tweaked. In other words, she seemed to have recognized Lise Ladygoth's skills.

"Can you show me that mask for a moment?"

In the end, Ozma's demands were the same as Dorothy's, even if her purpose was different. She was more interested in the mask than my bare face.

Naturally, it was difficult to say yes. Taking off the mask here would mean revealing I was Luan Badniker.

"If I refuse, will you kill me?" I asked.

"That would be a bit excessive, so I'll just mess with your brain a bit," she replied.

"Mess with it..." Crow muttered. "Do you mean to give it to me?"

Ozma shook her head at the worst of psychopaths, Crow. "No. I'll just erase the fact that you met us and leave a few hints behind. This way, you won't be hostile to us in the future, so we could still make use of you."

She was crazy. Wasn't she implying that she was going to mess with my memory?

"That is a bit excessive indeed..." I expressed my reluctance and put some distance between us.

Ozma told me, looking flustered, "I am being as considerate as possible. If you start saying you don't like this or that, I will also be put in a difficult position."

"I can keep my mouth closed. I won't tell anyone what happened here," I insisted.

Dorothy sneered. "A person who hides their identity can be a big talker. I know this well since I am an expert in this field. Anyone who hides their identity is bound to have an ulterior motive. Were you following us?"

I couldn't help laughing at the absurdity. She was the one who had dragged me here when I had just been trying to buy cookies, yet she was saying such nonsense.

"Not at all."

"So what are you doing in the south?" Dorothy asked.

"I'm on a mission."

"A mission?"

"It is related to the Dark Church." I looked around. "The people here... My guess is that you're members of the Abanaham Witch Society. You aren't our target."

So please don't get involved and let us go our own way, I added inwardly.

I had spoken earnestly, but Ozma looked as if she hadn't heard me. Then, she uttered something shocking. "Really? What if we are cooperating with the Dark Church?"

"Ozma!" Ryan shouted, his hood falling and revealing his face.

I was surprised. The exposed face looked exactly like a lion's. His hair was like a lion's mane, his yellow eyes were reminiscent of a wild beast, and his eyebrows were incredibly thick.

Ryan growled, "Be careful. This isn't a fact that can be easily revealed to someone else. Plus, if you want to crawl out of here intact, you better keep your mouth shut."

"What does it matter? I am going to erase his memory anyway," Ozma retorted. "Memory manipulation is difficult magic, and the success rate is low. Some people can even become complete idiots, so I need to know his thoughts before he breaks down."

It seemed that my fate had been decided. When I considered the consequences, this could prove to be worse than death. What would happen if my mind broke during the memory-erasing process?

If I regressed, all physical injuries would heal. What about my mental state, however? There was no guarantee. Worst-case scenario, I could return as a complete idiot.

Still, the Spirit Mountain Blessing wouldn't allow that outcome. In some worlds, the strongest warrior could lack an arm, a leg, or even an eye, but the strongest martial artist being a complete fool? That would be unacceptable.

This was no longer a joke. I was fully prepared to regress. If that happened, I needed to gather as much information about these people as possible.

"Why is a witch society cooperating with the church? Are you planning to turn your back on the empire and cling to them?" I asked.

"That is just the outcome. What we value is the process," Ozma replied.

What kind of nonsense was this?

"The purpose of our witch society is to find inspiration," Dorothy said.

"Inspiration?" I echoed.

Dorothy added, "Emotions influence black magic greatly. It is a very instinctive kind of magic. Research has to come first, but the most important thing is stimulation. The way we get stimulated varies from person to person. It could be through love, obsession, longing, creation, or appreciation of art... It wouldn't be unusual if it were murder.

"However, as people go on living, they gradually become accustomed to that kind of stimulation. It is akin to mental aging. That is even more so for witches like us. We live longer than ordinary people and have experienced various things since a young age."

I still didn't understand what this crazy woman wanted to say. I didn't have anything to say, so I remained silent.

Then, Ozma spoke. "That is why we are cooperating with the Dark Church."

"What are you saying all of a sudden?"

"This isn't sudden," she replied. "What is the freshest stimulus for a person? It is experiencing things they haven't experienced before. The church is the only organization on this continent that can summon beings from other worlds. We can make contact with highly advanced beings from ecosystems we can't even imagine. They are creatures with entirely different forms, characteristics, and ways of thinking."

I paid attention to her words. I knew what kind of existence Ozma was talking about.

"Are you referring to the demon kings?" I asked.

"Yes." Ozma sighed sweetly before continuing in an intense voice, "The gods of disaster... are truly a source of inspiration. Every time we see them, our black magic makes great progress. Now, this is the end of story time. Judging by your expression, it seems that this is the first time you're hearing about this. In other words, the Badnikers haven't discovered our plan?"

She deliberately spilled this to find out more.

I sighed deeply. Now that the situation had come to this, I had only one way to deal with it. The only option was to go crazy and destroy everything. If things went wrong, I would have to regress. Even so, using up one opportunity to regress felt too much of a waste.

Of course, the current situation was serious. There were five opponents. Except for Dorothy, the rest didn't know how to fight, yet were their chances of victory around one percent?

The moment I considered a surprise attack to increase my chances of winning, Ozma looked melancholic. "I know what you are trying to do, but it is too late."

At that moment, without warning, I felt dizzy. For some reason, my vision was blurry, and my ears were ringing. It felt like my weight had shifted forward, only to suddenly freeze in place, as if nails had been stuck in me.

Once, twice, thrice... I blinked before looking ahead. My surroundings were unchanged, but my own state had changed. Before I realized it, I had become suspended on a strange cross.

What is this? Is it a hallucination? When did it happen?

It was a ridiculous situation, so I laughed out loud. I was usually vulnerable to this kind of attack, but this time, I hadn't even sensed it.

"One piece of advice. No matter the situation, you should never obediently answer a witch's questions. That is the trigger," Ozma said. "Well, you will forget this advice eventually."

Ozma reached out to me with an expressionless face.

Fuck. Okay, this is it. At this point, there's no time to worry about Nalu or Luzard.

Just as I was about to use the First Fire Technique, a loud vibration erupted and the ground shook violently. The noise was so intense that it could have been mistaken for an earthquake. I trembled on the cross like a scarecrow in a strong wind.

The shaking stopped as abruptly as it had begun.

"What happened just now?"

"It can't have been an earthquake..."

"Ozma, what is going on?"

This was the first time such a situation had occurred, so the witches couldn't hide their panic. Neither could Ozma, who reached out to me.

Ozma frowned for the first time before saying slowly, "It's an intruder."

Ryan chuckled. "Haha. What utter nonsense. An intruder in the Emerald Tower?"

Ozma remained silent.

Ryan stopped smiling. "Are you joking? There is no way a black mage capable of breaking the barriers of this tower still exists in this era."

While the witches were confused, I smiled when I heard the words present era.

Ah, she came.