Chapter 111: Love is Blind (4)

“…Ahem.”

Pallarg, the former Tower Master who had been boasting theatrically, gave an awkward cough.

It was the part of the story where he expected awe and admiration, yet the listeners’ reactions were lukewarm.

Pallarg assumed the fault lay with himself.

That perhaps he had made the story too convoluted.

In hindsight, their reactions made sense.

—Then, I met a girl in a certain village. She had already reached the 3rd tier and had mastered the Blue Breath technique.

Who, upon hearing that, would immediately conclude, “A 3rd-tier swordswoman who mastered Blue Breath, went on to overturn her physical nature and achieved magical success with innate talent?!”

No—most would think something like: “Why is he suddenly talking about a swordswoman? Is he just old? Rambling in his dotage?”

That would be the normal response.

Just like what was happening now.

In that sense, Drey was indeed worthy of being called a master talent collector of House Mastien.

Only he recognized the girl’s true value and responded with genuine astonishment.

Pallarg’s joy, which had almost been dashed, was barely revived.

No, while the flow of his story had faltered, his excitement had only grown.

After all, boasting only feels truly rewarding when the listener understands the worth of what’s being shown off.

“…”

Drey’s intrigued gaze repeatedly flicked toward Pallarg’s disciple, Moria.

“Damn. Where the hell did he find someone like her?” His eyes seemed to say, and it delighted Pallarg all the more.

He broke the awkward silence and continued his tale.

“Yes, I understand. It must have been confusing for me to start talking about a young mage I took under my wing, and then suddenly bring up a swordswoman. But let me be clear, I never strayed from the topic.”

Pallarg turned toward the young woman beside him.

She looked like she had just shed the last remnants of girlhood.

Her thick brown hair gleamed like the mane of a prized colt, and her brown eyes held a strong light, as if they could shine even in the depths of a dark cave.

“Moria.”

He called her name.

“Yes, Master Pallarg.”

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but… could you show them that? I’m being indulgent, but I’d like to boast about you a bit in front of everyone.”

“Please don’t say it’s too much. If it’s your wish, Lord Pallarg, I’ll gladly do it.”

Moria’s energetic yet composed reply made Pallarg smile as she closed her eyes and focused.

“Whooo…”

Every breath, every movement of her chest, was filled with concentration.

A vein stood out on her forehead, and cold sweat began to form, trickling down her smooth brow.

No one present understood.

Just how deeply she was concentrating.

More precisely, in what way she was concentrating.

She couldn’t appear too talented.

That would raise suspicion.

But she couldn’t appear too clumsy either.

That would fail to impress.

Her focus was for the sake of control.

And that control, was for deception.

Moria…

Right now, she was acting the part of a young genius with innate talent.

–: She’s not 5th-tier, though.

–[OP]: ?

–[OP]: Did I get it wrong?

1–4: Tier 1

5–9: Tier 2

10–19: Tier 3

20–29: Tier 4

30–39: Tier 5

40–59: Tier 6

60–69: Tier 7, right?

–: Correct.

–[OP]: Moria’s level is 33 though?

–: It’s actually 70.

–[OP]: ???

–: Moria’s true level is 70. If she’s showing up as level 33, delete the game immediately and leave a 0.5-star review.

–[OP]: What the hell is this suddenly a creepypasta?

–: That’s not a horror story, it’s a miracle story. Encouraging people to delete this trash game and leave a trash review is a service.

–: A guy didn’t follow the advice and died from playing this trash game. RIP.

–[OP]: What the hell, is this a joke or for real?

–: Moria was originally a high priestess of the White Shadow Order.

–: Used a technique similar to regression. Gave up her cultivation to regain youth and pretend to be a newbie.

–[OP]: She’s a regressor?? WTF

–: Regression— in its very literal sense.

–: That’s why her level shows as 33, but her traits and skills slap around even most 8th-tiers.

–[OP]: She reset her level just to roleplay as a newbie?? That’s the ultimate smurfing psychopath.

–: It’s part of the grand plan. Becoming a “newbie” allows her to infiltrate major factions, secure key positions, and cause chaos.

With Moria’s breathing, her mana responded.

The mana, nestled within the vessel of a mage, resonated with her will and began to circle her surroundings.

It was unmistakably a mage’s breathing technique.

The pattern of her breathing began to change.

The mana, which had circled aimlessly, now moved with a clear purpose.

Eventually, it settled into her body.

Mana synchronizing not with her will, but with her very flesh.

It was no longer mage’s breathing technique, it turned into breathing technique of swordsmen.

There exists a fundamental gap between the two techniques of course.

Like the flutter of a bird’s wings versus the gallop of a four-legged beast.

To bridge the two requires not only a special constitution but an unshakable, instinctive sense unaffected by any external factor.

This was the significance behind Moria’s display.

She was mimicking the impossibility of a “Spellsword.”

A feat of extreme inefficiency requiring superlative sensory control.

It was not a depth one could possess at her apparent age.

There was only one word to describe what she showed—far beyond the realm of normal:

“Genius…”

Spoken by the talent collector himself, the word carried special weight.

His eyes sparkled with amazement.

“…”

Moria responded with a gentle smile.

Even after earning awe from a high noble house’s top talent collector, she remained composed.

This youth and talent were a lie, bought by giving up her 8th-tier true power.

Moria fully understood—and reveled in—that injustice.

“…!”

Innate genius, and the confidence to master it.

Even Drey, who had devoted his life to scouting prodigies, found himself momentarily overwhelmed by her.

With a hint of discomfort, he turned to Pallarg.

“Was it Lord Pallarg who taught her?”

“You know better than anyone, talents like that can’t be taught. That’s a blessing only the gifted are born with.”

“Was she like that already when you discovered her?”

“She could imitate spells just from seeing them once, and learning one concept led to ten insights.”

“Had she received instruction before you met?”

“She said she picked things up watching mercenaries and adventurers who occasionally passed through her village.”

Then, a bold voice interrupted them.

“That’s right. I’m self-taught too.”

“…”

“…”

I am too.

That loaded statement drew both Pallarg and Drey’s gazes to Moria.

She was already looking elsewhere—toward where Henya Ye Mastien sat.

“Just like the young lady.”

The situation was clear.

A genius had just declared rivalry against another genius.

“I’ve heard plenty of stories about the young lady. A once-in-a-generation prodigy, they say?”

Moria paused and glanced at Pallarg for his reaction.

He was startled by her sudden move, but that was it.

He looked at the bold young mage with an amused smile.

A look that said: “Let’s see what you’ll do next.”

The more she showed, the more impressed Pallarg became—

And the more valuable the “genius” crafted by the high priestess would become.

Moria believed she was one step away.

Just one more strong impression, and the former Blue Tower Master would reverse his retirement—

And take her to the Blue Tower.

Henya Ye Mastien.

A mage whose genius was already famed across the continent.

She was the ideal target.

The high priestess planned to steal Henya’s fame and talent to cement Moria’s name.

Moria flashed a provocative smile toward Henya.

“I hear that a lot too. That I’m a natural-born genius mage. So, how about it? Right here, today, shall we settle who the real genius is?”

The old Henya would have accepted without hesitation.

The arrogant genius mage would never tolerate someone surpassing her.

“To decide who the true genius is…?”

But now, Henya simply repeated the challenger’s words in a daze.

Moria assumed Henya was stunned by her previous performance.

Pallarg thought the same.

So did Drey.

They knew how unjust and incomprehensible her talent seemed.

“Wait—”

Drey, sensing something was off in his sister’s passivity, moved to de-escalate the situation.

“…Pfft.”

But it was then that Henya suddenly let out a short laugh.

“You want to see who the real genius is?”

She looked at Moria.

With pity.

As though gazing upon her own foolish younger self.

“…”

Moria, interpreting the look as smug arrogance, chuckled as well.

This brat dares…

The high priestess, playing a young genius, couldn’t stand the brat’s presumptuousness.

She was about to lash out—

But Henya’s attention had already moved on.

“What do you think?”

Henya turned to the man sitting across from her—Risir—and asked.

As someone who had been completely out of the spotlight suddenly became central, the three others exchanged puzzled expressions.

“Henya, won’t dragging Risir into this here put him in a tough spot?”

Drey said with a bitter smile.

It was just like Henya to act impulsively without hesitation, and though it brought a smile to his lips, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for Risir.

Pallarg, the former Tower Master, and the genius mage he acknowledged were both intently focused on this moment.

In that situation, bringing in a so-called “ordinary mage” like Risir would do nothing but expose his mediocrity—and that could only end in despair for him.

Am I missing something here?

Drey reconsidered.

Surely his brilliant little sister wouldn’t do this without a reason.

“What, are you feeling awkward?”

“To be honest, yes, a little. I didn’t think this was a situation I should be stepping into.”

“Seriously? Don’t be so modest. Did you hear what she just said? She challenged me to prove who the real genius is, and you’re not even a little amused?”

More than anything, the Henya he knew wasn’t someone who asked others for opinions in moments like this.

Maybe… Risir had something special Drey hadn’t seen yet?

He recalled the first time he met Risir.

Back then, Drey had tried to assess Risir’s level by sensing his mana.

What he learned: Risir’s body was in poor condition.

Due to severe aftereffects from overexertion, both his mana and physical state were unstable, making it impossible to gauge his exact level.

To push himself to such extremes without understanding his limits, at that point, regardless of tier, he was clearly inadequate.

If not for being Henya’s friend, Drey wouldn’t have paid him a second thought.

That was Drey’s initial impression of Risir, and it wasn’t good.

“Miss Henya. I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. Why is his opinion important in this situation?”

“Lady Henya, Moria is being sincere. Could you perhaps take this more seriously?”

Moria and Pallarg seemed to agree.

They, too, had tried to assess Risir’s abilities and arrived at the same conclusion as Drey.

So now, they couldn’t comprehend Henya’s behavior.

“Seriously? Him too? Even you, brother, and Lord Pallarg?”

Henya looked taken aback for a moment, then a mischievous smile appeared on her lips.

So that’s how it is?

Even those two also think this guy is…

She then turned to Moria with a smile.

“Alright, how about this? Before you spar with me, you fight him first.”

“…Are you serious?”

“You’re the one who wanted to see who the real genius is, right?”

A misalignment in the conversation’s direction.

Frustrated, Moria replied sharply.

“Did I expect too much from you, Lady Henya? Can’t you see what state he’s in? He’s clearly suffering from severe post-overload symptoms. He’s in no condition to duel.”

“I know.”

“…What?”

“?”

“?”

Her response was so brazen it left the three of them baffled.

She knew, and yet?

Even Risir was stunned.

“Henya, you knew that and you still dumped the duel on me…?”

“Well, don’t you always manage to figure something out?”

“Henya, do you think the world is that easy?”

“I don’t want to hear that from you. Especially you!”

Risir was speechless at Henya’s unshakable trust (?) in him.

“Henya, please—”

Just as he was about to protest—

“…Huh?”

Risir looked down at his own body.

“Finally…!”

Lan, Morin, and their master all let out deep sighs in unison.

After days of grueling work, they had achieved a breakthrough.

In this very moment—

Several city council motions related to a certain man had passed by majority vote.

The chain of events sparked by the crackdown on the cult had officially come to a close.

…

…

…

“Ah… What now…?”

Risir sighed and scratched the back of his head.

“What? What happened?”

Henya grinned at him teasingly.

Risir let out a long sigh and said.

“Let’s be clear about something. This wasn’t intentional. It was just a coincidence. Nothing more, nothing less. Don’t treat this like it’s normal, alright?”

“Oh, of course. Naturally.”

“Ha… What a mess. Well, whatever. Might as well give it a go.”

Henya burst into laughter.

It was a cheerful laugh, but with a hint of resignation behind it.

The three heavyweights and the Saint wore similarly conflicted expressions.

“…?”

“…?”

“…?”

The three others, unable to follow the situation, looked as if they’d seen a ghost.

“Ah, excuse me a moment.”

Well, might as well do it.

Feeling a heat rise in his head, Risir closed his eyes and began to focus.

He started to regulate his breath.