Became a Medieval Fantasy Wizard

TL/Editor: raei

Schedule: 5/week

Illustrations: None

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The wizards who came to the barony, expecting the worst, found not a single person.

In the Empire, wizards were treated as special beings.

Everyone knew that laying a hand on a wizard meant certain retaliation.

Nobles respected them, while commoners trembled in their presence.

No wonder stories of arrogant wizards abounded.

Some even strutted about rudely, as rumors suggested the more eccentric ones were more skilled.

wizards never imagined someone would dare attack them.

After meeting the baron, they were even more convinced of this.

"Now that a wizard's been killed, there's no reason to stay here," Ian said.

His companions nodded in agreement.

Wizards could act mad because nobles and knights respected them.

Knowing their heads wouldn't roll no matter how eccentric they acted, they behaved even more erratically.

But this unknown assailant had simply killed a wizard outright.

If they wandered around carelessly as usual, they might truly end up gutted.

"Herta should be near the windmill," Ian said.

"Alright Ian. You go to Senior Herta. I'll check on Senior Anton."

"Okay. Belenka, help Krysus out."

"Got it."

Ian divided the group and moved to find the scattered wizards.

Fortunately, they found Herta quickly.

"Sister Herta!" Ian called out.

"Oh my, Ian?" Herta replied.

Herta was preparing air magic near the windmill.

Ian summarized what had happened in the underground cave.

"What?! Victor? You're saying that ice wizard Victor was taken out?!" Herta exclaimed.

"Sadly... yes. He's returned to the heavens," Ian confirmed.

Herta knew Victor. She'd met him a few times at wizard gatherings in the past.

He was a cheerful ice wizard who loved jokes...

"That idiot!"

Herta blurted out, overwhelmed by frustration and dismay.

It was an era where communication between people was difficult. Unless informed beforehand, there was no way to know where someone had gone.

Moreover, wizards loved wandering and exploring. In these dangerous times for travel, dying away from home was surprisingly common.

If Victor hadn't been murdered, he would have joined the wizard group...

But he fell victim to an unknown killer.

"Sister Herta. Staying here longer is dangerous for us too," Ian warned.

"I understand. Good heavens... murdering a wizard..." Herta grasped the situation.

If Inglan was truly bait...

The wizards had walked right into a forest where hunters lay in wait.

"I just want to rescue Professor Inglan with magic," Herta said.

"Of course. Let's go get Professor Inglan and get out of here."

Herta immediately agreed with Ian's suggestion.

She wasn't keen on using magic against nobles, but the wizards were in no position to consider others' circumstances.

Strictly speaking, it was the proxy baron's own fault.

He should have released Inglan earlier. Or managed his domain better.

Ian moved to the meeting place with Herta.

Krysus and the others were there, but Anton was nowhere to be seen.

"Senior. Where's Anton?" Ian asked.

"Well..." Krysus spoke nervously.

"We looked everywhere, but couldn't find him. We even went all the way down the river just in case..."

"And he wasn't there?"

Krysus nodded.

It wasn't a good sign.

Anton was a water wizard.

He would have wanted to prepare magic to flatten Ian and Krysus's noses. So he should have been found by the river.

But Anton was nowhere to be seen.

"What should we do?" Krysus asked.

"Let's look a bit more. We'll check down to the lake."

Though it meant straying quite far from the village, Ian decided to go downstream.

And that decision proved fruitful.

"Ian!" Belenka, who had gone ahead to scout, shouted.

"I found a wizard!"

Ian's group rushed to the lake.

There was Anton.

"Oh my god. Anton!" Herta cried out.

Anton lay pale and bleeding.

Herta rushed out first and patted Anton's cheeks.

Anton's consciousness was fading in and out.

"Anton! Anton! Are you alright? Open your eyes! Anton!" Herta called desperately.

"... Herta?" Anton spoke with difficulty.

Ian quickly asked: "Anton. What happened?"

"... Demon."

"Demon?"

An unexpected word came out.

Anton coughed roughly. It was a cough mixed with bright red blood.

"A demon... attacked me. I jumped into the river right away but... *cough*. Seems it was all for nothing."

Anton explained haltingly.

While preparing magic, Anton was ambushed by some assailant.

And that assailant's identity was a demon.

"Nonsense! Anton! Don't give up!" Herta gripped Anton's hand tightly as she cried out.

Belenka, skilled in first aid, tore open Anton's shirt and bandaged his wounds.

But the bandages turned bright red in an instant.

The bleeding was too severe.

If no one else, Anton knew.

He knew his time was running out.

"Demons are difficult opponents to defeat with magic... *cough*! So, leave this place as quickly as possible."

"Anton!" Herta cried.

"Haa... this sucks. To think I'd die in a backwater countryside like this..." Anton struggled to raise his hand.

Herta immediately grasped it.

"Herta. I have one last thing to say..." Anton spoke, clinging to his fading consciousness.

"What is it?!" Herta asked urgently.

"The truth is, I liked you."

"... What?"

"From the moment we first met. Your voice. Your way of speaking. Every single action of yours, I found beautiful and lovable."

"No, wait. Anton! What are you suddenly..." Herta stammered.

Cough, cough!

Anton coughed roughly.

It meant, "Don't interrupt me when I'm about to breathe my last."

Herta was facing a dying man, but she was so dumbfounded she forgot about it.

What kind of confession was this right before death?!

But seeing Anton pale from blood loss, she couldn't bring herself to say anything harsh.

Anton wasn't spouting nonsense.

He was sincerely confessing the feelings he'd harbored all this time.

"I love you. I've been hiding it, but... now that it's the end, I guess it doesn't matter."

"..."

It was truly a last-ditch confession only possible for someone on their deathbed...

Anton smiled, looking somewhat relieved.

Herta sincerely wanted to beat the crap out of Anton.

Is this what should come out of a dying person's mouth? Now?!

"Say that kind of thing when you're well!" Herta exclaimed.

"... Sorry. I didn't have the courage..." Anton apologized.

Undoubtedly, it was the worst confession escape ever.

Plus, the fact that his escape route was "heaven" made it utterly despicable!

How was she supposed to contact him there!

"If you say that now... what am I supposed to do?" Herta asked, tears falling on Anton's cheek.

Even as he was dying, Anton felt secretly pleased.

The fact that Herta was worried about him. The fact that she was shedding tears for him, he quite liked it.

For better or worse.

Herta would never forget Anton for the rest of her life.

'Good,' Anton thought.

Satisfied with the fact that she would remember him forever...

Anton closed his eyes gently.

Now, it was time to meet the heavenly Lord.

...

...

"Anton!"

That's when it happened.

As Anton was about to surrender himself to peace, he heard an unfamiliar voice.

'Ian Eredith?'

Yes. It was Ian, Eredith's disciple.

Ian felt terribly sorry for the dying Anton.

He truly did.

A man confessing his true feelings right before death...

And a woman mourning the death of such a man...

Isn't this the perfect pure love story?!

"You said you liked Herta! But if you die like this, isn't that too cowardly?!" Ian exclaimed.

Ian was a thoroughly wholesome young man who abhorred NTR and loved pure love stories.

'A forced pure love story is better than an amazing NTR plot...!'

The development of Anton dying like this didn't sit well with him at all.

Ian wanted to help the Herta-Anton coupling somehow.

How could he sit still when a pure love story was unfolding before his eyes!

"Ian?! What are you trying to do?" Herta asked.

"Holy magic! I'm going to petition the heavenly Lord! To save Anton!"

'No! Don't do it!'

He had just made his final confession and was about to breathe his last.

But if he comes back to life...

It won't be a confession escape anymore!

Why did Anton choose a confession escape?

The reason was simple.

It seemed Herta wouldn't accept Anton's feelings.

Like most wizards, Herta and Anton knew each other.

But they were just acquaintances.

Apart from meeting a few times at wizard conferences, they had no deep connection.

Herta was originally kind-hearted, treating even men she just met kindly.

Anton, with his prickly personality, was drawn to Herta's gentle nature.

So he attempted a confession escape before departing for heaven...

If Ian revives Anton.

And Herta rejects Anton's confession?

'Absolutely not!'

Sincerely, Anton was confident he could die twice.

No. He would certainly die...

"Is, is it possible? Ian? You know how to use holy magic?" Herta asked.

"Yes! It's not to brag, but the heavenly Lord likes me a bit! I'll try to ask somehow!"

"Then please! Please save Anton!" Herta begged.

'Herta...'

Anton's heart swelled at Herta's voice.

Such a desperate voice...

Perhaps, Herta too...

Could she have liked Anton as well?!

'She might have been too shy to say it, like me!'

This... there might be a possibility?

Suddenly, his mind changed.

Anton wanted to come back to life as soon as possible.

'Please! Ian!'

"[Oh graceful, noble, holy, and beautiful ruler of this world!]" Ian intoned.

"???"

'???'

All the wizards who knew the Maronius language were simultaneously confused.

He clearly said he'd use holy magic, but...

What was that rootless spell? It was vaguely blasphemous!

Wouldn't he get struck by divine punishment for that?!

But contrary to their concerns, no thunderbolt fell from the sky.

[Oh my, Ian. It's been a while, hasn't it?] a voice responded.

"[I beg you. Please don't take your faithful servant away!]" Ian pleaded.

[Hmm. It's not good to interfere too often in matters of life and death, but... since it's Ian's request, shall I grant it specially?]

Ian prayed earnestly with his hands clasped.

Holy magic is the act of invoking miracles by petitioning the divine.

The holy magic of one loved by the divine often brings about results that turn the impossible into possible.

A technique positioned between magic and miracles.

That is holy magic.

"Sister Herta!" Ian called out.

"... A miracle... perhaps?" Herta wondered.

A warm light enveloped Anton's body.

Wounds healed, consciousness returned, and the flame of the soul began to blaze anew.

A miracle, inexplicable by common sense.

Holy magic saved the life of Anton the water wizard.

"Anton!" Herta cried.

Anton opened his eyes.

He saw the face of an impudent brat with jet-black hair.

Ian Eredith.

"... Your magic saved me," Anton spoke with a wry smile.

He had to admit it.

Ian, who claimed to have learned all sorts of magic including dark magic, earth magic, fire magic, and whatnot.

That claim was probably true.

Otherwise, there'd be no reason for him to dabble in holy magic that clerics train in.

"You really have learned all kinds of magic, haven't you, Ian."

"Is that the first thing you say after coming back to life?"

Ian smiled and pointed behind him.

A beautiful woman stood there, her eyes moist and cheeks flushed red.

The air wizard Herta.

"Anton."

"Herta."

The two wizards called each other's names simultaneously.

"I'm so glad... you're safe," Herta said.

"Yeah... thanks to Ian," Anton turned his head away, his face reddening.

His face felt too hot to look directly at Herta.

It was the aftermath of his mindless confession...

"Ian, Ian! Those two don't look normal, do they?" Krysus whispered.

"They don't look normal at all~" Ian agreed.

"What's this~ Are they gonna start dating?" Krysus wondered.

"They might start dating~" Ian replied.

"... Shut up! Damn brats!"

Anton chased away Ian and Krysus, who were gossiping beside him.

They became annoying brats just 1 second after he came back to life.

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