Chapter 26
“A Contract Killing?”
You’re asking me how I feel right now??
I feel like dying.
Can you all just leave me the hell alone?
I just want to be by myself.
But of course, my wish was not granted.
“Saint! O, Saint!!”
“Ahhh! The Saint of Healing !! The Incarnation of Grace!!”
“Apostle of Lilia! Look upon us! Guide us, the sinful and foolish!!”
The moment the inquisition ended, the members of the Lilia Order swarmed
around me, forming a circle and kneeling at my feet, bowing over and over in
fervent devotion.
Even High Priest Yodel, with tears streaming down his face, kissed the back of
my hand… and then proceeded to press his lips to my feet.
F#ck.
I’m just… exhausted.
You f#cking bastards.
Thanks to you, the likelihood of me getting struck down by divine punishment
is increasing in real-time.
What the hell am I supposed to do now?
What the hell am I supposed to do?!?!
I already admitted I’m a reincarnator!
I told them I’m from another world!
I explicitly said, I am NOT a saint.
I said it multiple times!!
Ahh.
F#ck.
F#ck.
F#CK.
“The first Saint of Healing, we are honored to be in your presence.”
And because the Lilia Order was drawing all this attention, the entire
Pantheon, now aware of the spectacle, was staring straight at me.
One by one, the high-ranking officials—clearly people of power and
influence—began approaching me.
They each took my hand in greeting before moving on.
At this point, I was so mentally drained that I had no idea who was shaking my
hand anymore.
I just stood there, offering a dumb, hollow laugh as I numbly greeted each one
of them.
And then, eventually.
The crowd faded, the Pantheon emptied, and the only ones left standing before
me were the faces I never wanted to see again.
The Karma family of Jonathan Karma.
The Lilia Order.
And, of course…
The walking catastrophe herself, the Nuclear Bomb Witch, Erfa.
“Saint. For the past two months, we have devoted ourselves to fulfilling your
will, striving to bring prosperity to the church. However… our efforts still
fall short. Please, blame me.
Though it may be inadequate, allow me to guide you to your temple.”
The Karma family stood before me and said this with the utmost formality.
At those words, my mind snapped back to reality.
Oh, right.
The legendary failure of the doll factory.
The most incompetent businessman of the century.
You’re still here!!
Look at that humiliated expression on his face.
He definitely f#cked something up.
Yes.
There’s still a way out of this mess.
“Let’s go.”
Yes.
Let’s go see how exactly you screwed up your business.
And if the entire failure gets pinned on me, then even High Priest Yodel will
start hating me!!
Jonathan Karma,
I could just kiss you right now.
You absolute lifesaver.
Thanks to you, I finally have a way to escape this nightmare.
“Saint, I am ashamed. This temple does not befit your greatness. Please,
forgive us.”
…Jonathan Karma.
What the hell.
What the actual hell.
Why is there a Mage Tower being built on the ruins of an abandoned factory?!
Why?!?!
“Jonathan Karma Was Actually… Competent?”
As it turned out, Jonathan Karma was an exceptionally capable man.
He made a deal with the Mars Tower Branch , offering to supply them with all
the elixirs they would need for future research—free of charge.
In return, he asked them to construct a towering Mage Tower on the factory
site, just as the Saint had suggested.
A Mage Tower was not an ordinary structure.
It could only be built using magic.
Moreover, an immense supply of elixirs was required for construction, making
it a process that normally took a minimum of five years to complete.
But.
The new temple being built for the Lilia Order was located right above an
underground elixir reservoir—an area where elixirs were naturally generated,
making it the perfect power source for large-scale magic construction.
As a result, the build time was accelerated to a pace unprecedented in
architectural history.
And in less than two months, a second Mage Tower, towering over 100 floors,
had risen in the capital.
Of course, it wasn’t completely finished yet.
There were still adjustments to be made, but at this rate, it would be
completed within three months.
And upon hearing this news—
The Saint shed tears of joy.
“…I need some rest. Please prepare a place for me to sleep.”
And with those words, the Saint immediately collapsed onto the bed and fell
into a deep slumber, softly crying as he slept.
Perhaps, after enduring the brutal inquisition, the sight of the grand Mage
Tower-turned-temple had finally brought him a sliver of comfort.
Watching him sleep so peacefully,
Erfa gazed at him with pure, unfiltered adoration.
And then, after a long moment, she quietly returned to the Mars Tower Branch.
He was truly like a child.
When he was happy, he cried because he was happy. When he was sad, he cried
because he was sad. Even when someone comforted and healed him, he shed tears,
yet never hesitated to embrace himself.
Erpa smiled in satisfaction, thinking that the words from the Book of
Grace—that he was the purest person of all—were undeniably true. She was about
to return to her laboratory when she found herself unable to move forward.
The lobby was packed with witches and wizards.
At the center of it all, Orgen, the Tower Lord, stood with a fearsome
expression, his voice thundering through the space.
“I thought you simply voted in favor of the White Order’s request. But that
wasn’t the case, was it? So, you sided with Tuidel’s vile scheme, didn’t you?”
Orgen’s expression was dark with grief.
Ever since hearing from Erpa about the Saint, he had wanted to meet him at
least once. But not like this.
The Saint had proven himself too flawlessly. So much so that Orgen and the
wizards and witches under his command had been humiliated in the most public,
disgraceful manner imaginable.
Orgen was ashamed.
So much so that he could barely lift his head.
Despite what the world might believe, the Tower Lord was not someone who
wielded absolute authority.
At the Mage Tower, major decisions were made through votes. The Tower Lord had
no power to dictate researchers’ directions or seize their work.
Funding was strictly merit-based—allocated to wizards and witches who produced
outstanding research or highly acclaimed papers.
The Tower Lord was nothing more than a glorified figurehead, the title
bestowed upon the most skilled magician in a gathering that prided itself on
free research.
And yet.
Even though the Tower Lord’s position was as flimsy as a bowl of watery soup—
No one in the Tower dared to disregard him.
Because being the Tower Lord meant one thing: he was the most powerful
magician in the Tower.
And, more than anything—
“You are all expelled!! I am throwing you out of this Tower!!”
The Tower Lord had the authority to forcibly exile any wizard or witch who
severely damaged the Tower’s reputation or caused internal disorder.
“M-Master Tower Lord!”
The wizards and witches who had voted for Erpa’s expulsion shouted in panic.
But Orgen’s fury was unrelenting.
“Gather your belongings and leave! We don’t need people like you here! I would
rather accept novice wizards and witches to fill your positions than allow you
to remain! Be gone!”
Despair clouded their faces.
The Mage Tower followed the principle of absolute meritocracy.
If they were skilled and their research was strong, they could find acceptance
in another Tower.
But they would carry a stain upon their names for the rest of their lives.
A mark that labeled them as those who had sought to harm another witch.
Even if another Tower took them in, forming genuine connections would be
nearly impossible.
The world of wizards was both vast and suffocatingly small.
A single bad rumor was enough to drive someone to the fringes of the industry.
Some of them had already begun to weep.
But what could they do?
The Saint of Healing had cast a miracle upon Tuidel within the Grand
Sanctuary, exposing their misdeeds in stark, undeniable clarity.
There was nothing they could say in their defense.
Erpa watched the scene carefully before stepping forward.
“You despicable bastards! Do you call yourselves seekers of knowledge?! Do you
dare claim to walk the path of magic—”
“Erpa!!”
“Tower Lord Orgen.”
Gasps filled the air at Erpa’s sudden appearance.
The witches and wizards couldn’t even meet her eyes, their heads bowed in
shame.
And then—
At Erpa’s next words, their eyes widened in shock.
“Please, allow them to remain in the Mars Tower branch. I want to forgive
them.”
“What… what are you saying?”
“If they are expelled from the Tower, their careers will be irreparably
damaged. Finding another Tower to accept them will be difficult, and even if
they do, adjusting there may prove impossible.”
It was a cold, harsh truth.
The wizards and witches did not dare to beg for mercy.
They simply hung their heads.
Erpa regarded them in silence before continuing.
“So please, do not expel them. Allow them to stay here, in the Mars Tower
branch.”
“But Erpa… these people voted for your exile. They sided with Tuidel’s scheme
and openly tried to destroy you.”
“I know. But do you remember what you told me before? That a Tower Lord must
embrace even people like them? That it is part of the Tower Lord’s duty. I
want to fulfill that duty.”
Erpa smiled faintly.
“I was abandoned my entire life because of my monstrous left face and my four
arms. I know the depths of that pain, the weight of that sorrow. I do not wish
to leave such wounds upon them.”
The gathered wizards and witches stared at Erpa in astonishment.
She gazed back at them.
Her face, calm and gentle—
The face of a saint.
“…Are you serious?”
“I am. Besides, if this many researchers suddenly disappear, the Mage Tower’s
joint research projects will collapse, and that wouldn’t be good for the Tower
either. The old ways are often the best—let them stay. Please.”
Orgen, the Tower Lord, remained silent for a long while before finally
nodding.
“If that is your decision, I will abide by it. However!!”
His fierce gaze swept over the gathered wizards and witches.
“That does not erase your wrongdoing. Erpa is the next Tower Lord!! If you do
not show her the proper respect and offer a sincere apology—no matter what she
says—I will still cast you out!! You cowardly snakes who scheme in the shadows
instead of proving yourselves with skill!! Only a genuine apology will save
you!!”
With those words, Orgen vanished from the lobby via teleportation.
Only the wizards, witches—
And Erpa remained.
Slowly, one young witch stepped forward, her face filled with curiosity rather
than guilt.
“Why? Why would you…?”
Even in this situation, curiosity was her first instinct?
That was such a wizard-like trait.
Erpa let out a small chuckle.
“Because that’s what the Saint would have wanted.”
Her gaze swept over them all.
“I forgive you. Because all humans make mistakes. But that does not mean I
will forget what you did to me. If any of you ever again look down on the
weak, act on jealousy to harm others, or commit actions that violate ethics
and morality—”
Her voice remained gentle, yet the sheer weight of her words dominated the
air.
“—I will ensure you pay the price with everything I have.”
The oppressive atmosphere made the wizards and witches swallow dryly before
bowing their heads.
“Thank you, Erpa.”
“We are grateful for this second chance.”
“We will never… ever forget this.”
Erpa accepted their apologies with a composed expression.
“Go back and continue your research.”
She turned to leave, stepping toward the stairs—only to realize that not a
single person had moved.
“Erpa… no, Lady Erpa. We have a request.”
“What is it?”
“As an act of atonement, we would like to conduct research at the newly
established Mage Tower in the slums. The location is close enough that we
wouldn’t have to abandon our current projects, and we could start new studies
there as well.”
“I heard they’re producing elixirs through a technology partnership. Rather
than just collaborating, wouldn’t it be better if we personally went and
taught them our techniques?”
Erpa’s eyes widened.
The wizards and witches looked embarrassed.
“We want to help the Saint of Healing, who opened our eyes. And… we thought
that perhaps this might bring you a little joy as well. That this could be our
way of showing you our sincerity.”
“Many of us here specialize in elixir refinement and application. As part of
our apology, we would like to offer the Lilia Order some of our research
findings for an extremely low royalty fee. In exchange, we’d gain unlimited
access to the elixirs they produce, which would actually be beneficial to our
research in the long run.”
“That’s right. Large amounts of elixirs are used in research. If we don’t have
to spend our budget constantly buying them, our efficiency will improve
significantly.”
“This is… the only way we know to show you our sincerity, Lady Erpa.”
As they bowed deeply in apology, Erpa felt a warmth rise from deep within her
heart.
The Saint of Healing.
Saint Amael.
Not only had he healed her body—he had given her a place in society.
And now, he had even changed these stubborn, prideful wizards.
If this wasn’t a miracle…
Then what was?
“Truly, truly, I say to you—when the Saint comes to you, you will know him.”
A verse from the Book of Grace, which she had recently begun reading, surfaced
in her mind.
Wasn’t that the truth?
“Do as you wish. The distance isn’t far, so relocating your research shouldn’t
be too difficult.”
“Thank you, Lady Erpa. We will never… never forget this day.”
The wizards and witches left, disappearing one by one.
Left alone in the now-empty lobby, Erpa placed a hand over her heart.
Saint Amael.
The one who had saved her.
The one who made her heart race whenever she thought of him.
“My body, my heart, my mind, my talent… all of it belongs to him.”
It was at that moment Erpa realized—
She could no longer live without him.
“Jonathan Karma, sir? We will allow you to use our research results at a
significantly reduced price. In exchange, we only ask that we be given free
access to elixirs while conducting research here. It’s a far better deal than
merely licensing the technology.”
“Good heavens!! We were in desperate need of experts in elixir refinement and
application! Come, come! You may use as many elixirs as you need!”
“Thank you. We are here to repay our debt to Lady Erpa. And to offer our
gratitude to the Saint of Healing. He made us reflect on our past and become
better people.”
You sons of bitches.
Why the hell is everything going so well?!
I told you not to come!!
But no matter how much he cursed internally—
Dozens of mages from the Tower had now officially joined Karma Company as
resident researchers in the newly built temple-like Mage Tower.
Wow.
This was practically a contract assassination.
At this point, the world was actively pushing him toward being struck by
lightning.
Why…
Why?!
Why is everything working out so perfectly?!
I am NOT a saint!!

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