As I was changing, a translucent magical bird flew up to me and dropped a note from the rector, asking me to see him. So instead of going to the library, I had to head to the main academy building.

  “Sit down,” Ramaan said, pointing to a chair. “Have they already told you that in two months, the qualifiers for the Northern Empire’s academy tournament will begin?”

  He must have read everything on my face. I had no clue.

  “There are three magical academies in our kingdom. The qualifiers will determine the winner, who will represent our kingdom in the empire’s tournament. What do you think our chances are?”

  “Hmm. That depends on the level of the opponents.”

  “They’re the same as ours—fifth and sixth circle.”

  “Then it’s fine. My team will crush them even without me.”

  “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to take any chances.”

  “I’m sure. I’ll be our trump card in the imperial tournament, where the strongest teams gather. No need to reveal me too soon. I’m sure others will do the same.”

  The rector sat with his chin resting on his interlaced fingers, thinking.

  “Alright. If that’s your decision, so be it.”

  “I suggest you watch our training before the qualifiers begin. That way, you can share my confidence.”

  “Deal!” he laughed.

  “Is that all? Then I’ll be going.”

  “Wait. I’ve heard rumors that you’ve been disrespecting the professors… Don’t do that, please. This is an academy; there must be proper hierarchy between teachers and students.”

  “Apologies, that was unintentional. I’ll find Lady Anda and apologize…”

  “Good. That’s all I wanted to say.”

  “Rector, I have a question as well.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “The imperial teams are stronger than the kingdom teams, right?”

  “Yes. Some of them even have seventh-circle mages.”

  “In that case, Rector, I request a sparring match in a month. Magic only—I won’t use my Battle Ancestor abilities. I want to assess our team’s real chances.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I’ve reached the fourth circle, but mine is much stronger than other mages’.”

  Ramaan grinned.

  “Alright! It’s been a long time since anyone challenged me!”

  Oh, he’s just as crazy. Holy hedgehogs, why do I keep running into lunatics? Who did I offend?!

  I headed to the library. Two months. Not much time left.

  Water Element—Eternal Crypt—a fourth-circle spell capable of freezing even mana waves over an area of about two thousand square meters. Any living beings caught inside perished instantly, turning to ice.

  Wind Element—White Rust—a fourth-circle spell that used tiny, compressed air particles like a rasp to strip the skin from living creatures.

  Earth Element—Devil’s Swamp—a fourth-circle spell. If you couldn’t fly, you’d sink into a poisonous bog.

  …

  Over the next two weeks, I mastered eight more fourth-circle spells, fully completing that level. Throughout this time, I didn’t ease up on the team’s training one bit, and it paid off—they could now hold their ground against me for thirty minutes, even when I used fire and ice spear spells.

  They groaned, but they held on.

  Meanwhile, Mia had reached the rank of a mid-tier Battle Master. It was time to register her for the kingdom tournament qualifiers.

  We walked through the noisy city streets toward the central arena. Three years ago, Tot, Sui, and I had done the same for our own registration. Not that much time had passed, yet our lives had changed so much.

  I glanced at Mia, who cheerfully walked ahead, her orange tail swishing. Ah, youth… This time, I’d personally make sure the tournament was fair. I think I have enough strength for that.

  We entered the arena grounds and headed to the registration tables.

  “Mia. Mid-tier Battle Master. Beastkin. Twenty years old,” she said, handing her plaque to the registrar.

  He sent her for a strength evaluation, then entered her details into the record book and gave her a participant badge.

  Heh heh heh, maybe I should have some fun?

  “Aney. High-tier Battle Ancestor. Atun Principality. Twenty-three years old.”

  I showed my golden adventurer’s guild plaque and waited for an invitation to the strength test.

  The registrar paled. He was afraid to refuse me, yet it was clear that standing before him was the tournament’s winner, making the whole event pointless.

  “Is something wrong? You’re wasting my time, sir. That’s rude!”

  “I… I… I… One moment, please, sir! I can’t make such decisions on my own!”

  The poor man scurried away, leaving me standing alone at the registration table, confused. Should I just enter myself into the list?

  A familiar aura was approaching.

  “Lord Aney! It’s a pleasure to see you again at our competition!”

  Ah, Willis. Of course.

  “Good day, Chamberlain! Have you come to greet me personally? To what do I owe this honor?”

  Willis grimaced as if he had swallowed something sour.

  “Lord Aney, may I have a word with you?”

  He cast an aura dome around us to keep the conversation private.

  “Lord Aney, don’t you think this is inappropriate?”

  “What exactly?” I played dumb.

  “Your participation in the tournament!”

  “But I meet the requirements, don’t I?”

  “Yes, but in terms of strength… And besides, you already won the tournament three years ago…”

  “Really? Then why don’t I remember any award ceremony crowning me as the winner?”

  The chamberlain fell silent, searching for another way to persuade me.

  It was so funny that I couldn’t hold back.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “Ahaha! Relax, Lord Willis. Forgive me for the prank. But!”—I shifted to a serious tone—“My friend is competing in this tournament, so I will be watching very closely. There will be no cheating this time, like three years ago. Do you understand, Lord Willis? Not even a hint of foul play. Otherwise…” I leaned in slightly. “Unlike my kind teacher, I won’t be so forgiving. The consequences will be far more serious than last time. I believe we have an understanding, Lord Chamberlain?”

  I shattered his aura dome with a swipe of my hand and walked over to Mia, who was waiting on the side.

  “Everything alright?”

  “Yeah. Just ran into an old acquaintance. So, what’s your number?”

  “Two hundred thirty. Are we heading home?”

  “Oh no. Since we’re already out in the city, there are some places we need to stop by. Besides, I’ve been invited.”

  We made our way through the streets toward the Church of the White Twins. I carefully scanned the auras inside. Many Battle Masters and five Battle Ancestors.

  As we neared the building, I released two dozen puppets and ordered them to surround the church. The people inside had sensed me as well and were clearly on edge.

  I rose several dozen meters into the air, hovering above the gates.

  “Come out!” I commanded, amplifying my voice with aura so the entire city could hear.

  Passersby began to gather nearby, intrigued by what was happening.

  “Honorable citizens and guests of the city! Not long ago, I discovered that the clergy of this church have been sacrificing innocent townspeople to increase their own power. And I have undeniable proof!”

  For a moment, this shocking truth plunged the city into silence. Everyone understood that Battle Ancestors did not throw around such accusations lightly. But to accuse the Church of the White Twins? For the townspeople, this was a shock.

  “Bishop!” I barked even louder. “I’m waiting for an explanation! Otherwise, I will turn your church to dust!”

  “Very well!” A voice from within the church, also amplified by the aura of a high-rank Battle Ancestor, called back. “Let’s resolve this without violence.”

  The doors opened, and a dozen and a half people dressed in black emerged from the church. One of them rose up to meet me. I ordered my puppets to surround the rest.

  “Arriving like this is quite rude, don’t you think, Lord Aney? I am Bruno, the new bishop of the Church of the White Twins in Matan.”

  “Rude? And what about sacrificing people—does that count as polite? And that trap you prepared for me, is that your version of hospitality? You should be grateful I’m even speaking to you and not burning this den of murderers to ash!”

  “You throw around grand accusations, but without proof, all you are doing is bringing your own death closer!”

  “Without proof?” I laughed and pulled out Amon’s storage ring—the former bishop of Matan. “Do you recognize this?”

  Of course, he did. I could see the vague foreboding of doom in his eyes, even though he had no idea what was coming.

  I activated second-circle magic. Bruno flinched back in surprise. Using a second-circle light-element spell, I projected a massive image into the sky so that every citizen in the city could see the ring in my fingers.

  “Yes, this is the storage ring of the former bishop of the Church of the White Twins, Amon. Do you recognize it?”

  Bruno shrugged.

  “Even if I do, what of it?”

  Oh, bad move, old man. I reached into the storage ring and pulled out a large glass container—inside was a human head. The image reflected in the projection above the city. A gasp swept through the crowd. Bruno paled.

  Oh, don’t get quiet now, this is just the beginning.

  Using my aura, I lifted the jar to the side and pulled out another one—also containing a human head. I turned it to show the projection every angle.

  “That’s Malt! He disappeared years ago!” someone shouted from below.

  Ignoring the voices, I pulled out another jar. Then another. And another. And another. By the third dozen, the crowd below was roaring with fury, demanding the priests be lynched on the spot.

  But I wasn’t done. I kept extracting more and more remains of the victims. Many were recognized immediately, their names and stories of their disappearances cried out by the people.

  This was a reckoning.

  I could feel it—one word from me, and the church’s clergy would be torn to bloody shreds. The entire two-million-strong city was watching my every move.

  “Exactly three hundred and sixteen victims!” I shouted, holding up the last head. “Do you have anything to say, Bishop?”

  “This… this means nothing!”

  “Nothing? Have you lost your mind?! Three hundred and sixteen innocent citizens of Matan, murdered by a bishop of the Church of the White Twins, and you call that insignificant?!”

  Bruno’s frantic eyes darted over the crowd of tens of thousands below. Everyone was waiting for his answer. And his answer would decide his fate—and the fate of his church in this city.

  “We don’t even know where these heads came from in Amon’s storage! Someone could have framed both him and the church!”

  People in the crowd started exchanging glances. The authority of the church was, after all, the highest on the continent.

  “Oh, of course! You were framed!” I saw the relief flicker across his face. “Although, wait a moment… There’s something else in this storage… What could it be? Oh my, it’s Bishop Amon’s personal journal!”

  I pulled out a thick book bound in red leather.

  “Give that to me!” Bruno lunged for the journal, but four of my puppets simultaneously drove their spears into his ribs. Not to kill—just to restrain.

  Bruno realized the end was near and fell silent.

  I opened the journal in the middle and began to read aloud. The crowd went dead silent, hanging onto every word.

  I had to give Amon credit—he was meticulous. He had recorded every victim, every ritual, in painful detail.

  I read of how they laid people on a stone altar and flayed the skin from their backs, how they used a sacrificial knife to sever ribs from the spine and pull out still-breathing lungs…

  So many details. Too many. After a few pages, I closed the journal. The crowd was silent. The crowd was seething. The crowd was out for blood.

  “So, what do you say now, Bishop?”

  Bruno lifted his bowed head to look at me.

  “Perhaps… Perhaps Amon did those things. I admit that. But what does this have to do with the church?”

  Oh, you sly bastard. Hanging meekly on those spears, pretending to be a victim.

  I grinned.

  Time to bluff.

  “Bishop, do you really think there are no names of Amon’s accomplices in the diary?”

  In reality, there were no names. But he couldn’t have known that.

  “If you kill us, the church will burn you along with this city!”

  “Hoooooo?! People,” I turned to the crowd, “did you hear that? The church is already threatening genocide if we punish these bastards. So what do you think of such gods and their servants?”

  The crowd was silent for a moment.

  “They’ll kill us?”

  “Ancestor, kill these monsters!”

  “Avenge us!”

  “Haven’t they killed enough of us, those scum?!”

  “Let them burn in hell!”

  “Ancestor, punish them, we beg you!”

  I raised my hand, trying to calm the crowd.

  “So, Bishop, you’ve heard the voice of the people. Do you have anything to say?”

  “You will all die!” Bruno’s voice echoed through the city. “You filthy cattle! You belong to us! Who are you to judge the gods, you wretches?! One look from the God is enough to trample you into the dirt—yes, right into the filth where you belong!”

  I slapped him hard, forcing him to shut up.

  “Citizens of the city, unfortunately, this bastard speaks the truth. If we kill them, the church will destroy the city along with all its inhabitants.” I spread my hands helplessly. “But we can banish them and burn down this torture chamber!”

  I pointed at the church building.

  “Yesssss!” the crowd roared. “The Ancestor speaks the truth! Burn the church!”

  “Alright, I’ll do it. Please move to a safe distance from the church.”

  I waited for the people to disperse and ordered my puppets to take the prisoners away, then activated fourth-circle magic. After making sure no one was inside the church or its basement, I cast a fire tornado spell. A small sun shot from me into the building, transforming into a towering pillar of fire. It began spinning, sucking in the church’s roof, then its stone walls. It was as if it was devouring the building from the inside.

  “Noooooo!” Bruno howled, stretching his hands toward the fire. “The altar! The Gods’ altar is in there!”

  A loud explosion cut off his scream, and from the fire tornado, a thin white beam shot into the sky, vanishing almost instantly.

  What the hell was that?

  I turned to the bishop to ask, but then I saw his young body aging rapidly, shriveling.

  What kind of madness is this?!

  The other prisoners also began to change, quickly turning into hunched old men. And everyone around saw it. The red glow from the burning church transformed the entire scene into some kind of hellish phantasmagoria.

  I deactivated the magic.

  On the ground before me sat an old man, his lower jaw trembling. No trace remained of his former High-Tier Battle Ancestor aura. Just an ordinary old man who would be in a coffin within a month or two.

  I glanced at the other prisoners—they had all aged. Some older, some slightly younger, but they had lost all their power.

  “Hahahahahaha!” I burst into laughter. “So you’re nothing! Just a fake wrapped in shiny packaging! All your strength doesn’t even belong to you! My God, this is the best joke I’ve seen in years! Hooooooo…”

  I wiped away tears of laughter. It really was hilarious.

  I stepped up to Bruno and poked him with a finger to make sure my eyes weren’t deceiving me. But no, it seemed real.

  I rose into the air once more.

  “Citizens of the city! Fate has punished this scum even better than we could have imagined! Now, the only thing left for them is to drag out a miserable existence for a few months and then die as beggars in some ditch! I propose we simply banish them from the city so that their stench doesn’t pollute this place! All in favor?”

  As the crowd cheered in agreement, I ordered my puppets to push the churchmen beyond the city’s borders.

  In the crowd, Mia found me, grabbed my hand, and pulled me away.

  “Master! What have you done, Master?!”

  “What have I done? Punished the bastards who cruelly murdered innocent townsfolk?”

  “No, you’ve angered the church!” She looked into my eyes. “Master, you don’t understand!”

  “Calm down, Mia! Even if it were three churches—there’s no way I could walk past such filth and leave it as if it didn’t concern me. Evil must be punished. Any neutrality toward evil only plays into its hands, strengthening it and making you a silent accomplice. Just imagine they had taken you for a sacrifice. Should I have just turned away and walked off?”

  “That’s different, Master!”

  “Different?” I stopped, forcing her to halt as well and look at me. “How exactly is it different?”

  “Because!”

  Mia yanked her hand away and ran ahead.

  What was wrong with her?

  I walked slowly through the city streets toward my home, thinking about the consequences.

  The church was unlikely to send the God of War here to deal with me, but they certainly wouldn’t let this go.

  Besides, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had accidentally uncovered a very important secret about the church.

  The altar.

  What exactly was it?

  I only understood that it granted power to the churchmen. But I didn’t know if this applied to all of them. Or if it had other functions.

  Though, I did have one cleric acquaintance…

  Maybe I should press him and find out everything I wanted to know?

  I shook my head.

  No rush—everything would become clear in time.