Taming The Villainesses-Chapter 409: Leader (6)

Balan de Sabrenac.

A genius of dark magic. When it came to the study of things sinister, cursed, and ominous, no one in Arc could rival Professor Balan.

But that reputation was the result of her tragic fate.

She had spent a lifetime tormented by nightmares, shackled by transcendental magical parasites. Her ascent to professorship at Arc was nothing more than the outcome of her desperate struggle to break free.

In the end, she had managed to accept herself—at least to some extent. ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) And it had seemed like she’d finally found peace of mind...

But she had still once fallen to madness and committed atrocities against the Drayco family. She remained a person of interest. A risk.

Yet I hadn’t paid her much attention.

That was because there was something I trusted about her—not her talent, necessarily.

In truth, it was her incompetence.

Yeah. To be blunt, Balan was... kind of useless.

She was scatterbrained, clumsy, incapable of following through on even simple tasks. Outside of her field of expertise, she was the kind of person who couldn’t even tie her shoelaces properly.

But it was that very incompetence I trusted.

—Honestly, I can’t trust Professor Balan.

Mirna would often say that with a sharpened glare.

But I did trust her—in the sense that I believed she was incapable of causing any real trouble.

And yet.

There’s no such thing as absolute.

“Professor Balan...!”

Marmar was so flustered she looked like she was about to foam at the mouth. Her tail swished back and forth so wildly, it was starting to make me dizzy.

Looks like I’ll have to use it here—

Fairy Technique:

—Nymph Tail Grab!

Snap.

I reached out and caught Marmar’s diamond-shaped tail, swinging like a broken metronome.

Just like that, the panic drained from her shoulders. She finally took a breath and said:

“Ack...! I told you not to grab that! You’ll rip it out!”

“But nothing calms you down like this.”

I’d read somewhere that men, when trying to calm themselves down, instinctively reach for the thing that sticks out in front of them.

A man’s thing was like a forward-growing tail. So I figured maybe a rear-growing tail would also work for calming. It did.

The now-calm Marmar spoke:

“Professor Balan... she attacked the Saint and got captured!”

“HIEEK...!”

I felt the world spin around me.

How could anyone stay calm after hearing that?

While I was still panicking, Marmar grabbed my hand.

“Come with me, quick!”

“Right!”

As I ran, holding Marmar’s hand, thoughts raced through my head.

The Saint was the religious leader of the Church. A figure of reverence and faith.

I didn’t know why Balan would lash out at her—but this wasn’t something we could just ignore.

Apparently, Balan was already imprisoned beneath the Gracia Basilica.

Mirna commented:

“This isn’t good. The Gracia underground cells were once used for heresy inquisitions. No one’s ever come out of there unscathed. Balan might have already spilled everything...”

I imagined Balan tied to a chair in the basement, doused with cold water.

Pitiful and worrying—but also tense.

Balan knew a lot of my secrets. If she leaked even one of them, the Gracia Church might use it against me.

So I had no choice but to rush to the Basilica, even though it was late evening. But the gates were already shut tight.

Two paladins crossed their halberds to block me.

—Visitation hours are over.

—Please leave.

Was it too dark for them to recognize me?

With no choice, I pulled off my hood and showed my identity.

“I’m Teo Gospel from Angmar. I have urgent business with the Saint. Please let me through.”

The guards exchanged glances, silently asking, Is this for real?

Then one of them ran off.

About five minutes later—

Clank.

A knight of the Basilica unbarred the gates and bowed slightly.

“You have permission, Sir Teo. Also, I watched your match in the tournament. You were amazing. Could I... have your autograph?”

I raised a finger and summoned a small flame, tracing letters on the front of his armor.

T

E

O

As the glowing signature cooled, the knight lit up like a giddy child.

“Hehe! I’ll personally escort you inside.”

I followed him into the Basilica. Roman and Gracia—both religious headquarters in a single day.

There’s probably no one else in the world who could pull that off.

After a while, we finally arrived at the door of the office where the Saint awaited us.

Knock knock.

The knight didn’t say a word—just knocked twice. It felt like part of some formal ritual.

Then, a soft voice came from within.

—Please come in.

***

Saint Frigga Nightfall.

I’d heard she was once a student at Arc herself. Exceptionally talented.

And eventually, despite her young age, she was exalted as a Saint.

Traditionally, Gracia’s Saints were older women.

The youngest until now had been barely over forty.

So for someone in her late twenties or early thirties to hold the title was unprecedented.

Which also meant she was exceptional.

And she was impressive—powerful, even.

How powerful? Powerful enough to serve as a major obstacle to the protagonist party after they defeated Aira von Taranterra in the first arc.

Maybe even comparable to Aira in her martial arts days.

No, perhaps not quite that much. But still—definitely not someone to take lightly.

She was chosen as Saint despite being born a slave. With brilliant wisdom and the resolve to overcome her rival Teodoros and reach the top of the Church.

Unlike Aira, who struggled with emotional burdens, Frigga might push me to make even harsher choices.

I was nervous.

If it hadn’t been for Marmar and Mirna flanking me, I might have just turned around and run.

The last time I’d felt like this was when I first stepped into Reinhardt’s study.

But I’m not the same man I was then.

No one can look down on me now.

I firmed up my resolve and stepped into the room.

Creak.

The room was dim. Only a few candles burned.

Frugal living, maybe?

This lighting’s terrible for the eyes, I thought briefly.

Then I spotted her—lighting the candelabras herself.

A bewitching woman, draped in a black veil that hugged her figure.

She looked to be in her late twenties.

Her pink hair, spilling in silky waves beside her face, was striking.

I’d always wondered... how the hell does someone’s hair actually turn pink—

Wait, not the time for that.

Then my eyes landed on the X-shaped blindfold covering her face.

A blindfold that covered both eyes.

Now it made sense why she kept the room so dark.

She had no need for light. Because in her eyes—was a sealed demonic force.

She couldn’t look upon the world.

I was the first to speak.

“Saint Frigga, it’s been a while.”

“Indeed, Sir Teo. I’d been hoping to speak with you. You must be here because of Professor Sabrenac?”

Right to the heart of it.

She sees clearer than most who still have eyes.

She continued.

“She suddenly lashed out at me. For now, I’ve detained her in the basement to let her cool off.”

It looked like no real harm had been done.

I suddenly recalled the time a villain hunter shot arrows at me and tried to drag me into a duel trial. Still gives me headaches.

Frigga went on.

“The Church has its hands full these days. So an incident like this—without any witnesses or victims—can be overlooked. However—”

That however—that was the real point.

Everything before it didn’t matter.

“However?”

“Thanks to her, I now have the chance to speak with you. I heard you visited Bishop Antiek of Roman today.”

“Did you hear that from Professor Balan?”

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is what you discussed with Bishop Antiek. Allow me to offer a piece of advice—forget it.”

“Forget it?”

“Antiek is a madman. A lunatic who truly believes this perfectly fine world will collapse and give way to some great transformation. Trusting such a man is the quickest path to ruin.”

Where had I heard this before?

Ah. Bishop Antiek had slandered Frigga.

And now Frigga was slandering Antiek.

There really was a split between them.

She continued.

“They’re planning to cross the barrier. To force change upon the world—just like your Queen. You’d best abandon your plans of approaching the barrier, Sir Teo.”

“Why...? Is there a reason we shouldn’t approach the barrier?”

“You don’t explain to a child why they shouldn’t stick their hand in a hornet’s nest. Sir Teo, the world is fine as it is. Problems should be resolved slowly.”

I remembered the time we were stationed at Gargarta Fortress.

The Gracia Church had dispatched inquisitors to shut down our military operations—afraid we’d breach the barrier.

Frigga was terrified of us approaching the far side.

Of course, now I understood why.

I said:

“Because it’s beyond the barrier. The Gate. And beyond the Gate—it’s there.”

The one who reacted wasn’t Frigga, but Mirna.

Calm until now, she suddenly spoke.

“Saint Frigga. Sir Teo. Forgive the interruption, but I have to ask—what are you talking about? What Gate beyond the barrier?”

Curious, huh?

I understood that feeling. In this world, no one ever gave you a straight answer.

But I wouldn’t be like them.

So I said it plainly.

“Mages who surpass the Fifth Realm and begin to step into the Sixth—see the Gate.”

“Sir Teo—! That is forbidden knowledge.”

Frigga tried to stop me.

The Gate was a topic barred by the Church. Barred by the Saints.

But now that I’d started, the words flowed freely.

“Those who’ve seen the Gate and what lies beyond... suffer burns in their very brain cells. But in exchange, they receive infinite magical power. A truth. A source.”

“Source...?”

Mirna raised an eyebrow at the unfamiliar term.

But I wasn’t finished.

I stated my conclusion.

“Now that I think back, it was strange. Just seeing that bizarre being boosted my magic. But if you assume this—then it makes sense.”

Magic was originally a blessing from the God of Light and Salt to David Angmar, founder of my house.

If the truth beyond the Gate was the Flame God, then the power surge was perfectly explained.

Yes.

“Saint Frigga. Your Church has been hiding the God beyond the barrier. The one connected to Solomon. Am I wrong?”