“You want to save the orphanage children?” James asked, looking at Penelope curiously. Truly, after listening to what they went through, he understood why Penelope had wished for safety and happiness so desperately. And he also felt thankful he wasn’t born in this world.

She nodded, her expression determined. “The black mages burnt down the cathedral because we told what happened to the priest, so there are chances they’ll target the orphanage too. Please, let us bring the kids here… You won’t have to take care of all of us. We can then teleport them to a safer location…” Penelope trailed off, her gaze downcast.

James sighed, but then smiled. She should have just told him this earlier. He did have plenty of soul energy. While perhaps taking care of them all would be a major drain to his soul energy over a long period of time, teleporting all of them here and then to some other location after a bit shouldn’t cost too much.

Indeed. It will cost a maximum of five soul points even for a large group.

“Alright. Let us teleport there then?” James asked, and both Penelope’s and Jack’s expressions brightened.

James smiled. These two kids really did remind him of his sister.

“Shop, teleport us three to their orphanage, please.”

Understood. Say: [Return to shop] while holding the hands of all the targets you wish to return to the shop along with. If there are beyond two targets, simply make the two targets you hold hands with hold the other targets’ hands.

James nodded, and he felt his feet almost lighten for a split second—a very short second, as darkness surrounded him. Then, he was standing on a dirt road. And in front of him was a building on fire.

The orphanage was burning.

—

Penelope stared at the place she called home with empty, wide eyes. It was on fire. The old orphanage, the place where so many kids had found happiness, the place where she’d spent as long as she could remember in, the place she’d—

She ran towards the building. To do what, she did not know, but she could do something, anything! But Jack grabbed onto her, stopping her from approaching closer, holding her back as she screamed and cried her heart out, struggling like a wild animal, wanting to escape his grasp and become one with the fire.

A small part of her found it funny, that after all that had happened, this was the point that broke her enough that she cried.

The being that had brought them here had approached her at some point, and Penelope could feel  his sympathetic gaze and pity as he grasped onto them and muttered, “Return to shop.”

And once more, she stood in the grasslands, the burning orphanage forever etched into her mind.

—

His closest friend amidst the leaders, Antri, looked at him with curiosity. “You truly think this’ll work, Neol? That they won’t just think it was some plot by black mages?”

Neol smiled at him. “No, I won’t say I truly think it’ll work. I’m not concerned, even if it won’t, since I highly doubt they can trace it back to us. We’ve used nothing but manual means, and many of the city guards are on our side now. However, think about it, Antri… The palace summons the higher priests and suddenly attacks occur on two cathedrals?”

Antri blinked before tutting. “But we also attacked their orphanage along with another orphanage and some general locations to mask it, didn’t we?”

“Exactly. There is no reason the royal knights won’t try to mask the attacks. Even in the worst case scenario, this will create a lot of curiosity amidst the nobles and commoners, which means more business for us and some suspicion between the royals and the Inheritor of Light’s church. You know how much friction exists between the two groups. That’s better than nothing. Weakens the nobles.”

“And the more the nobles are weakened, the more we thrive. True.”

Neol simply smiled.

“What about the kids who disappeared?” Antri asked, and this dimmed Neol’s expression, taking away his previous nonchalance.

“I’m not… really sure what even happened. The best guess I have was that one of them suddenly unlocked mana and, in some fit of desperation, managed to turn both of them invisible.” Neol sighed. “I do hate not doing tasks such as this perfectly, but it is fine. The kids can scream their throats hoarse. Who will they do so to? As far as they know, the city guards are on our side, and we massacred entire cathedrals just because of them.”

Neol leaned back into his chair, his expression relaxed once more.

“If I were them, I’d run.”

—

James looked at the kids sitting in front of him silently, not quite knowing what to say.

“You… want to become a mage?” he reconfirmed, looking at Penelope.

It had taken her a long while to calm down after she’d seen the orphanage. But once she did, she’d expressed her desires. Sitting in front of the desk, he stared at them, once more the representative selling his goods to the customers.

“Yes.” Penelope nodded. “How many years of my lifespan will it take for me to awaken mana?”

James turned to Jack. The boy looked at James with a hollow, tired gaze, but he nodded too. “I would like to awaken mana too, sir.”

Shop? he asked in his mind, and the shop’s golden letters appeared in just a second.

Both of them have the potential to awaken mana. However, due to malnourishment and a lack of training, they have lost the capability to. That said, the mana circuits do exist in their body. For twenty years of lifespan, the shop can:

Help customer Penelope unlock dark attribute mana.

Help customer Jack unlock fire attribute mana.

“It’ll… cost twenty years of lifespan,” he told the two kids, and both of them nodded. “Do you agree to give twenty years of your lifespan to the shop in exchange for unlocking mana?” James asked once more. He knew the kids would agree, but perhaps a part of him wanted them to disagree. But James recognized how selfish that desire of his was, however small, so he spread his hand for the shop’s contracts to appear in his hand.

He placed the two on the desk, and gave the one that had Penelope’s name to Penelope and the other to Jack, before giving them quills.

Is it necessary for them to sign them with blood? he asked the shop in his mind, to which it replied:

Yes.

“Sign them with your blood,” James told them with a sigh, to which both the kids looked at him. Thinking it was because they were confused how to, he explained, “Stab your thumb or a finger.”

“I-I can’t sign,” Jack muttered, and James’ eyes widened ever so slightly in realization. Right. They were orphans who’d never had a formal education—or any education at all for that matter.

Will fingerprints work?

Yes.

“Stab your thumb, and then stamp the paper with it here,” he explained, tapping on where the ‘signature’ section was on both their contracts.

And they did. Jack’s face scrunched up lightly when he stabbed his thumb, but Penelope didn’t show any visible reaction.

“Can you teleport us in front of a mage tower in a kingdom far, far away from Elen?” Penelope asked once James took the contracts back.

James sighed. “Alright. I’ll teleport you two for free.”

Standing up, he announced, “Shop, please teleport these two to a… good mage tower in a kingdom far away from Elen.”

As soon as he said so, the kids in front of him disappeared. James found himself simply standing there, watching where the kids previously were.

“Will they be fine, shop?” He couldn’t help but ask.

It is highly likely they will be taken in as apprentices in practically any mage tower once they are tested and found to show mana aptitude. They will survive for the rest of their fated lifespan as long as they do not seek danger, representative.

The empty shop suddenly felt strangely lonely.

—

“An amazing political move, Your Majesty,” Harley bit out with such venom that even the king was caught off guard. “Truly, you have shown how ruthless you can be. You saw an opportunity, and you grabbed it. Since your son is injured and we’re here anyway, you decided to go for it, yes?”

The king raised an eyebrow, looking at Harley with visible confusion. “What do you mean, saint?”

The saint laughed, an almost insane laugh that made his ethereal appearance—pale skin, light gold eyes, light gold hair—look crooked. “There has been bloodshed at two of our cathedrals, Your Majesty. A massacre.”

Right at that time, the doors opened and a royal knight walked in hurriedly. “Your Majesty, we must send the royal knights into the city at once! There is a fire spreading amidst the poorer districts, and two cathedrals have been attacked! The city guards are on high alert. We might be facing an enemy attack, or perhaps a noble’s revolt—”

Harley clapped, interrupting the royal knight’s words. “Amazing, truly amazing. The royal knights attack our cathedrals first, and then they act as justice’s envoys, eh?”

The king’s gaze narrowed, looking at Harley with undisguised anger. “State your accusations clearly, saint.”

“You see, Your Majesty,” the saint announced almost theatrically, “one of the city guards is a loyal follower of the light. That is why, when they stumbled upon the massacre and this—” The saint threw an emblem down—an emblem that royal knights carried during undercover missions, in case they needed to prove their identity to a city guard or a fellow royal knight. “—they gave it to a high priest instead of burning it until there weren’t even ashes left, like the other city guards would have done, undoubtedly.”

The king looked at the bloodstained emblem with a blank expression, seemingly not knowing how to reply for a second. Then, his expression turned thunderous as he growled, “You dare? You dare accuse me of massacring my own citizens—”

“I do dare, Your Majesty!” the saint barked back. “You know just as well as me the impact this will have on the Inheritor of Light’s churches! Who would dare come to them when they could be massacred at any time, by, oh, the royal knights themselves?”

At this, the king stood up, his eyes frigid. “For all your accusations, you have no solid evidence, saint. You simply threw this emblem down here and expect it to be irrefutable proof? You could have simply obtained it from other sources. Perhaps you are the one pulling off a political move masterfully. Seeing that the royal palace is in chaos, perhaps you conducted a massacre to throw it onto us?”

“A city guard gave me this—”

“Will the city guard testify in front of the ministers?” the king questioned, and the saint grit his teeth.

There was no way the city guard would dare risk testifying. Even if the king had indeed masterminded the massacre, who would dare speak out about that except for the saint himself? And the saint had no way to prove what he was saying was indeed the truth—at least to the other kingdoms or the ministers—so it will remain as a ‘baseless accusation’.

“We will see what the public says if I tell them what happened, Your Majesty—” the saint began, only to be interrupted by the emblem suddenly disintegrating, only ashes left.

The saint stared at the king with shock. He did not just… How dare he?!

“The public will be getting to know nothing, saint,” the king declared coolly. “Remember, you’re only alive due to my mercy.”

“We, the church of the Inheritor of Light, are not subordinate to you!” the saint bellowed. “How dare you threaten to kill me?!”

“Do you think I cannot, saint?” the king asked, standing up, wisps of mana appearing around him in the form of intense winds.

Harley bit his lip as he stepped back. Indeed, the king could. They were both level seven mages, after all, but Harley only specialized in light mana, while the king specialized in dark attributed mana… There was no way Harley could win. Not like he could get away with it, even if he won. There were a few level seven royal mages, after all, and they would hunt him down to the ends of Iastlan.

With a trembling breath, the saint looked down, accepting defeat. There was nothing he could do about the massacres. While the church of the Inheritor of Life did indeed exist in many other kingdoms, none would be willing to go to war for them. Perhaps if all of the saints and saintesses gathered here and tried to attack the king, there would be a chance, but that would come at the cost of many, many deaths on their side.

The royal knights would cull the believers like lambs, and the royal mages and the king, even if they lose in the end, will take some saints and saintesses down with them.

Harley was effectively at a stalemate right now.

“Bow down, saint,” the king ordered, and Harley’s head snapped up, looking at the king in shock.

“What?” he asked.

The king seemed unfazed by Harley’s reaction, however. “Bow down.”

“Your Majesty, to ask a saint to bow down to you, do you have no respect for the church of the Inheritor of Light—”

“Yes.”

Harley gasped, not knowing how to respond. “You require me to do my utmost to heal your son properly, Your Majesty. Do you truly wish to embarrass me now—”

“Do you dare not do your utmost, saint?” the king questioned, almost politely. “Would that not be going against the oaths you’ve sworn to the Inheritor of Light? Punishing someone who requires help because of a grudge not even related to them.”

Harley paled. That was true. Defying his oaths as a healer would indeed cause backlash to his mana. If not now, then later.

“You have disrespected me, saint,” the king declared calmly. “If it was anyone but you standing here, I would have had their heads. Instead, all I want you to do is bow, to lower your head for only a second.”

The saint took in a deep breath. Did he have any choice?

He bowed, a quick, jerky bow, but the king seemed satisfied nonetheless, for he did not say anything else as Harley walked out of the throne room.

Harley could only grit his teeth, anger, frustration and embarrassment warring in his heart, none of them having any outlet whatsoever.

—

The king turned to the royal knight  who’d witnessed the entire spectacle with wide eyes and ordered, “Immediately dispatch all the royal knights into the capital. Subdue the fires, lock the city down. Find the bastards who did this. I give you the power to temporarily wield the power of execution. Find the bastards and execute them. Perhaps it has been far too long since a cleanse. Some people are becoming very uppity.”

The royal knight bowed, regaining his composure almost immediately. “Understood, Your Majesty.”

The king had a few theories of who had done this. But whether it was a noble, the church of the Inheritor of Light, or black mages themselves, all of them would shiver.

Indeed, it had been far too long since a cleanse.