Ch.251Episode 12 – The Strongest Mage in History

The pungent scent of strong disinfectant alcohol wafts through the air.

When I open my eyes, I see an unfamiliar ceiling once again.

The sharp smell grips my nose, and I feel pressure all over my body.

Bandages, perhaps.

“……”

I wanted to check my condition, but I didn’t have the strength to move my fingers. The sensation of the blanket against my fingertips is vivid.

As I turned my throbbing head to look around,

Lucia’s voice came from beside me.

“…You’re awake.”

I barely managed to turn my head and met blue eyes. Tired eyes in a gaunt face.

Lucia, looking different from her usual self, was staring at me with an exhausted expression.

…While lying next to me.

Episode 12 – The Strongest Mage in History

This is an unfamiliar room I’ve never seen before. I’m lying with Lucia in a room I’ve never been in.

I feel somewhat detached. Perhaps I should say it doesn’t feel real.

Confusion and inexplicable anxiety swirled in my head. I couldn’t even properly grasp the situation.

I tried to pull back the blanket and get up, but the pain in my abdomen prevented me from moving an inch.

“Ugh…”

As I fell back onto the bed, Lucia scolded me.

“Your injuries are severe. Stay still.”

“…Where am I?”

“The cathedral.”

This was the cathedral. St. Basilius Cathedral, to be exact.

Lucia, seated at the edge of the bed, began explaining in a weary voice.

“We originally planned to move you to intensive care, but there were too many eyes, so we had to bring you to my room. The priest also asked us to keep this matter confidential.”

“The priest…?”

“Reverend Rebecca.”

Hearing Rebecca’s name helped me understand the situation somewhat.

I had engaged in combat with two inquisitors against a monk suspected of heresy, and I was injured after being defeated. It seems that Reverend Rebecca and the inquisitors who arrived late at the scene had brought me to the cathedral while I was still alive.

So the operation failed.

“How long have I been lying here…?”

“About six hours. But since you were unconscious when you arrived at the cathedral, it’s probably been much longer in reality.”

“……”

“Don’t you remember?”

“…No.”

“…You truly don’t recall anything?”

Lucia asked with concerned eyes, and I was momentarily speechless as memories suddenly flooded back.

Bullets piercing through the brown tunic and lodging in various parts of my body. The monk pursuing me through the snow. White streaks of light pouring from the sky. An indescribable force gripping my legs tightly. A longsword flying through the hazy dust. The blade extending from beneath the handle of the staff.

Memories overwhelmed me instantly, like floodwaters rising during monsoon season.

“……”

Lucia quietly observed me as I lay still without saying a word.

“It seems something has come back to you.”

“……”

“You don’t have to speak. You need to rest now.”

Lucia muttered as if indifferent, but her face was filled with worry.

She chose silence for mental stability, and I asked about my physical condition.

“Is it that bad…?”

“…It would be faster to tell you which parts are in good condition rather than listing all the bad ones.”

The worst, she says.

Lying in bed staring at the ceiling, I listened as Lucia explained how serious the situation was from beside me.

“You had multiple stab wounds in your abdomen and chest. Judging by the shape of the wounds, it seems you were attacked with weapons similar to a longsword, military sword, falchion, and longsword. There were penetrating wounds in your right thigh and lower abdomen—if the blade had moved just a few centimeters, your life would have been in danger. The bleeding was severe, so we had to get help from the hospital for a blood transfusion.”

“……”

“It’s remarkable that you didn’t die. It’s no exaggeration to call it a miracle.”

Lucia’s face was filled with worry as she spoke in a calm tone.

“What about Reverend Rebecca?”

“She had a meeting with the Archbishop as soon as we entered the cathedral, and now she’s busy informing the Inquisition about the situation.”

“Is everyone safe?”

“……”

Instead of answering, Lucia chose silence. Her tightly closed lips showed no sign of opening.

However, I could tell one thing from her silence.

“…It seems not everyone is safe.”

I asked Lucia in a low voice.

“What happened?”

“……”

“Holy Maiden.”

“…Some have gone to God’s side.”

There were casualties among the inquisitors.

“How many?”

“Four.”

Four dead. The two inquisitors who first engaged with the monk, and the inquisitors who rushed to support them.

Depending on the nature of the operation and the regulations of the intelligence agency, operation teams typically consist of five or fewer members.

My peers who were captains in military intelligence commanded three staff members, and I had five subordinates. Although I don’t know the Inquisition’s organization, by military intelligence standards, an entire operation team had been decimated.

I covered my throbbing forehead with my palm.

Lucia’s voice penetrated my ears.

“…This is no time to worry about others. Your condition is the most critical.”

What does that mean? I removed my hand from my forehead and looked at Lucia.

I could only stare, lacking the energy to speak properly, but Lucia quickly understood the question hidden in my silence.

“……”

Swish. With the sound of fabric moving, the sensation of the blanket pressing on my body disappeared.

The blanket, pulled away by Lucia’s hand, was moved downward, allowing me to see both her condition and mine for the first time.

Surprisingly, Lucia was barely clothed. Hidden by the blanket until now, she was lying in bed with me wearing only her underwear.

The important thing was that I was dressed similarly.

The suit I had brought from Dvork was nowhere to be seen. I was lying with Lucia, covering only the essential parts with underwear.

It was shocking to realize I had been lying in bed nearly naked with a foreigner—and the Holy Maiden at that—but I neither panicked nor tried to cover myself with clothes.

More accurately, I couldn’t even think of doing so.

Only after the blanket was removed did I finally understand what condition I was in.

“……”

I could see hideous stab wounds all over my body. These were traces of major surgery that must have required hundreds of stitches. The mysterious wounds scattered here and there were just extras.

However, more importantly, the wounded skin had turned black.

“What… what is this?”

As I examined my body in disbelief, forgetting the pain, Lucia delivered news that sounded like a death sentence.

“Your flesh is rotting.”

*

The operation had failed.

I woke up after passing out to find that the operation had failed, and there were casualties among the inquisitors.

I had stab wounds all over my body.

And now my flesh was rotting.

“No. This rate of skin necrosis doesn’t… make… any… sense…”

As I stammered while looking at my blackened skin, Lucia began explaining in a calm tone.

“It is indeed necrosis. What you’re seeing is the harsh reality.”

Skin necrosis—necrotizing skin infection—is more common than one might think.

Bacteria enter through wounds and spread along the fascia, penetrating deep into the skin. It’s easy to contract if you’re injured and don’t properly care for the wound.

I know because I’ve experienced it several times. There were numerous occasions in the Middle East and Africa when I had wounds roughly stitched without access to antibiotics.

But the current situation…

Something was off.

“I’ve already administered antibiotics by injection. There are also oral antibiotics available. They’re properly prescribed from the hospital, so you can take them with confidence, but…”

Lucia trailed off as she looked at the decaying skin.

“I can’t be certain they’ll be effective.”

Skin necrosis doesn’t progress within hours. Since it involves bacteria invading and infecting the skin, the affected area should become red and inflamed, with pain and fever developing over several days.

Yet these wounds had been inflicted just hours ago.

I looked at Lucia with a bewildered expression.

“What’s happening?”

“I don’t know either.”

Lucia stated bluntly in a calm voice.

“I consulted with a doctor, but they said they’ve never seen symptoms like this before. This is a phenomenon that modern medicine cannot explain.”

I stared at Lucia with a dumbfounded expression. Lucia, who had been lying beside me, carefully raised her upper body and alternately examined my decaying skin and my face.

“You’re experiencing symptoms that are difficult to explain with both modern medicine and the church’s healing arts. That’s why I had to personally attempt healing, though as you can see, I failed.”

“……”

“What exactly happened?”

Lucia’s blue eyes, filled with questions, turned toward me.

Her face was deeply troubled, but her eyes contained a firm determination to get answers.

“Four inquisitors are dead. Reverend Rebecca seems to be investigating something, and she mentioned something similar before. But this goes beyond acceptable limits.”

“……”

“Tell me. What happened to you?”

Lucia’s voice was no different from usual, but that’s precisely why it felt strangely disconcerting.

She seemed angry. She seemed worried. At a glance, she almost appeared to be in a rage.

I had no way of knowing why she was angry, but I had no choice but to tell the truth. With things this complicated, there was no way to quietly cover it up.

So I told her everything.

About the child caught using sorcery in the village.

The information about the suspicious monk obtained from interrogating the child.

Going to the child’s village to find the monk.

Encountering the monk there.

Everything the monk did and how the villagers treated him.

The moments of quiet surveillance to infuse holiness into the amulet.

And the battle between the monk and the inquisitors after he noticed.

I left out the story about Hormuz, but that was enough for now.

Lucia, lying beside me and listening to my words, seemed lost in thought with her eyes closed for a while. Then suddenly, she opened her eyes and got up.

As she put on her clothes, she blurted out:

“I need to see the Archbishop. Wait here.”

“What’s going on?”

“This is beyond what the inquisitors can handle. Didn’t you know who that monk was?”

“Isn’t he a heretic? Who on earth is he…?”

“The smell of a corpse emanating from a living person, the strong fragrance to mask the smell, sensitivity to holiness enough to notice the faint divinity in the amulet, and the power to withstand and counterattack the inquisitors’ assault.”

“……”

“That monk is not human.”