Ascendance of a Bookworm

With my hands up to prevent the slightest drop of blood, shouting for help as far as my voice could, and the ring glowing almost simultaneously. The blue light stretches towards the sky.

Something black came down from overhead with a feather called Bassari. Bon, Bobon! and a small shock echoes at your feet. Moving his face, he had several black arrows stabbed at his feet. Be as quiet as the trombes around me have lost power.

"Chief Cleric!

To the familiar arrow I looked up. I can see the lion broomstick with its wide spread wings sliding down a straight line towards this one.

... With that arrow, it's all right now.

But it was only a few seconds before I was relieved by the appearance of the chief cleric. What kept the trombe quiet was that between the bundles, the trombe immediately starts to activate by the blood that zeroes out of my hand.

The trombe, which had stopped perfectly, began to move again, stretching from the stomach to the chest. The new buds that grow one after the other become more wrapped up and the feet become tighter.

"Chief Cleric, hurry..."

The Chief Cleric jumps down from the white lion back as he slips, in a light motion that he doesn't think is covered with all-body metal armor. What you have in your hand is a black arrow blessed by the Dark God to exorcise the Trombe. The chief cleric comes this way, poking a zaku and a trombe with an arrow.

"Mine, what the hell is going on here!?

"Witch Apprentice, I made you wait!

Apparently he finally gained the protection of the Dark God. Darmuel began his struggle to rescue me as he wielded a black knife. But Darmuel's magic is low, it's completely different from the black arrow of the chief priest, and no matter how much he cuts, the trombe doesn't quiet at all.

"No protection at all!?

"It's not like it's not working! Trombe will be back soon! Why!?

After the chief cleric stabbed the arrow, he would be quiet for a few seconds, but soon again with strength, Trombe would begin his activity. Though the growth rate has fallen, the clergyman continues to stab the arrow as he tongues at a trombe that will not decay at all.

"Sheriff, the blood, my blood… trombe"

"Your blood!? It sucks!"

When the trombe told him what caused it to activate, the chief clergyman roughed up his voice. That's all, in my helmet, I think of a face that opens up and lifts my eyebrows.

"What the hell do you think I pulled you away from the scene for and bothered to put an escort on you!? Guard for what!? Incompetence!"

The chief cleric scolded the two remaining knights as escorts as he told them to throw up so. Darmuel is struggling with a black knife, but Sikikoza is just now struggling to get the blessing of the Dark God.

If you think of it as an escort, you would definitely be incompetent, because you ignored orders from your boss, poked a blade at the subject of the escort and injured him, creating the situation now.

And while the chief cleric controlled the trombe with an arrow, he found out in the complaint he was saying, but my magic seems to be quite a lot. Dermuel, of course, shrugged the chief cleric that about half of the Knights might not be effective in attacking with a blessed weapon.

"No matter how much you tow, there's no point in blocking the wound. Mine, where's the wound?!?

"Right here."

I extend my left hand to the first cup of my eyes. The clergyman who saw the wound gently pounded his tongue and murmured "Entvahnung". The black bow turns into a pale, glowing tact.

Immediately as the Chief Cleric shrugged "Roto," he waved the tact, the red light stretched toward the sky. I could see the other knights flying one after the other to see if the red light was some kind of signal.

"It'll be painful, but never cry. Tears and blood don't change in the sense that they contain magic."

The clergyman who advised me so slowly regarded my wound with glowing tact. As soon as the sparkling light touched the wound, coming out of the tact, my whole body trembled.

"Hih!

I got goosebumps all over my body with the kind of discomfort and pain that something that wasn't me was trying to force into me. Physiological tears come in. I looked up not to zero tears and exhaled softly.

I can see that the wound gets hot and the magic in me moves toward the wound at the same time, as if trying to prevent the entry of foreign objects. My magic and the magic that the clergyman tried to pour in collided, and the wound glowed in a light yellow. The wound was completely blocked when the light went out.

"The wound..."

"It's just a first aid to block the wound. I'm just blocking it with magic, and it's not completely healed. Above all, it's suicidal behavior such as magic on a trombe, but there's no other way."

The chief cleric squeaks, exhaling like tired. The wound is blocked, but the trombe is more active than ever.

"Chief Cleric..."

"I broke off the blessing and blocked your wounds. There is no weapon against Trombe. Rescue should be here soon..."

With that said, the Chief Cleric glanced up at the sky and turned to the Knights as they slid down toward us, "Slow!," he yelled. I am freaked out by the fury of the chief cleric, who is basically aristocratic and has no emotional emotions to show outside the hidden room.

"Dear Ferdinand, what the hell is a rescue signal... what is this?!?

The knights who descend one after the other find the second trombe, and look at me imprisoned in its center, and behold.

"Calstead, your chosen escort is incompetent and this untimely. Rescue Mine immediately. I broke off the protection, so I can't use it. Branches are stretching to the neck. Hurry up."

"Yes, I did!

A clergyman, who had no weapon against Trombe, walked away from me, and instead a metal armor with a black halbert rushed over, waving his weapon down in one breath. Together with the explosion sound of Dogon!, small fragments of earthen smoke and trombes wind up.

"Keho... koho..."

"Calstead, don't scratch Mine one! I'll feed you on your outfit."

Leaving him to wave his weapon so as not to scratch me in the center, to pay for the trombes that are so tangled together, the chief priest walks toward Shikikoza and the side servants. I seem to see anger leaking from that back, and I'm very scared.

Perhaps, before the construction of the identity difference between nobility and civilians, one of me would be pissed off by the development of being covered with all the sins of the nobleman, Sikikoza? Is there any punishment or culpability for Trombe being activated because of my blood?

… It can be.

There was a massive gathering of knights around me who were getting depressed thinking about what was to come. The knights with the black Hulbert are trying to pierce the ground and sever the roots of the trombe without resting their hands. At the same time, a knight with a black knife was cutting out little by little the stems that began to tangle around my neck.

"... the protection began to work"

Darmuel sounded heartfelt. Since the scratches on the back of his hand were blocked and there was no more blood, the trombe seemed to be unable to activate and there were no more signs of stretching.

Using a weapon with the blessing of the Dark God, a black discolored part emerges and decays from where the weapon was laid, just like the giant trombe earlier.

I too, who managed to escape the fear of being strangled by a trombe, exhaled for a moment in relief.

"Damn, it's hard to do!

"You're the only one with a knife. Be polite, Darmuel."

Apparently, after receiving the blessing, I cannot change the shape of the weapon, and the knights carefully cut the branches of the trombe around me one by one with a large weapon created to cut down the giant trombe.

"Darmuel, then, witch apprentice...... you said mine? Why is this happening? I've never seen Ferdinand so angry."

Calstead lurked his voice and asked quickly as he cut the branch at my feet with a large Hulbert.

"It's..."

Darmuel made a rattling metal rubbing sound and looked at Shikikoza. But he doesn't seem willing to aggressively press charges, and the words are vaguely cloudy.

To the unclear demeanor of Darmuel, I ponder my actions, feeling unspeakable frustration and the harshness of my identity society.

... What shall we do?

It's easy to expose everything because the trombe that was stretching down my throat has also been cut to my chest and I'm in no condition to have a problem if we just talk.

But it's a different matter of whether or not you're to be trusted, and it will probably be a situation where your identity says things. I do not know how much my words will make sense or whether they will be trusted. Calstead is also a nobleman. It is also possible to be the dance of this situation.

"I need some information. Speak clearly."

Calstead roars low with an exasperated voice that bites his teeth, urging me and Darmuel.

Speaking of which, the chief cleric was also angry with Calstead that he had "chosen incompetence as his escort". Now Calstead, who is trying to find the cause of the priest's anger, may listen to me properly, even for the sake of preservation.

"Dear Calstead, will my safety be guaranteed if I speak?

"What do you mean?

With the meaning of ascertaining whether Sikikoza's actions are normal as a nobleman, I ask Karstead. Now that the ritual isn't over, at least there shouldn't be anything like being killed all of a sudden.

"Even if I, the civilian, speak honestly, if I don't like it, will the nobles grab my hair and wiggle it, or try to choke my eyes?

"What, is that?... No way, you dealt with a witch apprentice, did you!?

Calstead made a gushing noise, bouncing up the area that was covering the face of his helmet. Raging eyes filled with anger pierce Darmuel. Darmuel seems surprised by Calstead's sword screen and desperately defends herself.

"It's not me! Sikikoza took out the knife and threatened the witch apprentice. He told me to give up my identity so I could help him..."

"Dumb! Master Ferdinand's anger deserves it!

Calstead took the blackening and brittle trombe into his hands. Make a noise with Merrimeri and the trombe breaks.

Calstead seems angry about the actions of the escorts as well as the sheriff. If this happens, maybe being honest with you won't suddenly cut it off. Calstead has turned a sharp eye on me for judging the situation that way.

"Mine, talk. All, accurately, without falsehood, swear to God to state it."

"Yes, I did. Dear Calstead, I swear to God, I will not lie."

Calstead pays off Darmuel's hand, which was raised just to tell him not to wait a minute. I perceived the atmosphere of serious listening, and I gave details of what the two escorts had done. While also emphasizing the presence of witnesses that the back can be taken from the side service.

It took quite some time to rescue me from the complicated and disappointingly tangled trombe without ever scratching me. Even after I told you everything, it wasn't over yet.

"Hey, you okay?

"... no. Call my side."

I was wrapped up in a trombe. I'm worn out. The clothes for the ritual, which had just been newly renovated, were rubbed off everywhere, and the part that contained blood was holed up as if it had been eaten by a trombe. My whole body hurts, and my whole body is tired and powerless because I was desperately resisting.

"Serving the witch apprentice side, where!?

Calstead lifts up my body, which is powerless. It seems that I am in the way of thoroughly turning down the roots of the trombe. It hurts everywhere when I'm held up by metal armor, but I don't have the strength to complain.

"Master Mine!

I turn my gaze to Fran as he rushes over. From Calstead to Fran, my body was transferred, and I was brought to Fran.

"Chief Cleric, you have a fever!

"What else? Give him a break over there and let him take that pill. I'm losing blood, and I'm losing a lot of magic."

The clergyman who was listening to the circumstances from Sikikoza just glanced at this one and put his gaze back on. Taking off his helmet, the clergyman, whose expression was looking better, appeared to be more angry than earlier.

"Yes, sir."

When Fran moved to a warm place in the sun and sat me down, he took out a vial containing a light green liquid from the bag.

"Drink this, Master Mine"

"What, this?

"It's the chief priest's medicine."

I'm afraid to put something in my mouth that I don't know why, but if I don't drink properly, I'm going to be forced to drink it. I had no choice but to take the bottle.

"I'm sorry, Fran. I can't. I can't seem to get my arms up."

Both arms, which were desperate to keep blood from dripping, could neither be lifted as heavy as lead nor on their own.

Fran, who supported my back and opened the lid, carries the bottle to my mouth. The smell of herbal medicine stuck my breath. The smell of boiled herbs pokes my nose.

"Fran, is this really okay to drink?

"The chief cleric had also been served earlier. He says it's a medicine that helps the sheriff recover fatigue and magic."

If they call it fatigue recovery, I have to drink it. At least if the sheriff himself is drinking, I guess it's not poison. I poured it into my mouth, distorting my face to a tough smell.

"Ngu!?

I hurriedly held down my mouth, which was about to spit out. Tears burst all at once, my whole body trembled. My tongue is paralyzed and I'm hot so I can burn the back of my throat. It's so intense and spectacular bitter that I don't think I'll feel the taste of whatever I eat for a while.

With his mouth held, Fran, who saw me trembling with a tingle, runs to the Chief Cleric, blue-blued.

"Chief Cleric, Master Mine is in a lot of pain..."

"For sacrificing the flavor, it should work quickly"

The chief cleric said so without even looking at this one.

The words are correct, and I can see for myself that the softness and weight fall out of the body that was neat, and the fever pulls off sooo much.

"... wow. Looks like the fever's pulling off......"

It's a very effective medicine. But good drugs are bitter in the mouth, too bitter to say. I want to demand an improvement in the taste. Though the clergyman who says he sacrificed flavor for the effect can't possibly do anything to improve it.

Trombe had been completely exorcised by the knights while I was resting and recovering. Unlike giant trombes, the crater is not open. One of the knights said this was due to germination with my magic.

It seems that naturally occurring trombes dive into the ground and take months or years if they are bad, to inhale, store and germinate the magic of the land around them. For that matter, they're rooted wide and deep, and they break bones in the exorcism.

"Align them all!

The knights who have finished their trombe exorcism will be aligned by Calstead's decree. It is the two men entrusted with my escort who are not aligned. The two are lined up in front of the clergyman with their helmets removed, and they look down still on their knees.

Mine, come here.

Now that I could move, I was also called, and all were gathered on the spot. I stand half-step behind the clergyman, as instructed by the clergyman. Due to his shortness, he had eyes to eyes with two of the escorts who looked just a little up. As I expected from my voice, they're both like mid teenagers who haven't even grown up yet.

Shikikoza had highly assertive yellow-green hair with hateful, deep-green eyes. With a face that is neat but full of arrogance, I am the cause of it all, and his eyes speak eloquently.

Darmuel has quiet, plain shades of brown hair, with troubled, seemingly sorry grey eyes pointed at me. I didn't know when I was wearing a helmet, but I felt like I was being bullied.

"Okay, Shikikoza, Darmuel. If there's anything I can tell you about this disturbance, let me know."

To the word of the chief cleric, Sikikoza raised her face.

"... there's nothing I need to open my name to. That's civilians. That's all we need."

I softly hold my chest to the grandeur of believing that the claim is natural. If the other person is a civilian, there is no need to open a petition. I think that's the norm here.

"I told you not to scratch one."

"It's troublesome to be blamed for suddenly standing up civilians getting injured on their own"

Sikikoza also shook her head clearly in the voice that sowed the priest's anger. The chief cleric groans "I see," then turns his gaze to Dermuel.

Dermuel, who was looked at by the chief cleric, once trembled with Vikri, then turned down and spoke at once.

"Give me an ID difference, Sikikoza told me, and I couldn't resist. Sorry, sir."

He said so with his head down. Look at Dermuel, the chief of clergy exhales gently.

"That's right. As the two assert, the difference in identity must be justified"

"So..."

And Shikikoza lifted up his joyful face, and looked at me as he had won. I gently stroke an empty hole in my ritual costume and bite my remorse.

The Chief Cleric stepped forward.

"Who's the most identifiable person on this scene, Sikikoza?

"Dear Ferdinand,"

Just saying it's natural, Sikikoza returns the answer. I just couldn't seem to read the intent of the clergyman's question, tilting my neck slightly.

"Oh, yeah. That's what I ordered. Make sure to protect the witch apprentice from one scratch. Then you will know for yourself what to defend and what to prioritize. That's what I'm talking about. Give me the difference!

Sikikoza looks up to the clergyman as he was struck. Its face was stunned and its eyes were open as if it were incredible.

"But that was civilians. A foolish child who disturbs the order of the temple..."

"You don't seem to understand the situation at all, so let me state it. Mine is a civilian, but a witch apprentice given a blue coat. The temple side, which anticipates a lot of magic, wants it, with the permission of the lord, and is given a blue coat. Leaking dissatisfaction to it is tantamount to leaking dissatisfaction to the Temple and the Lords into its chest!

In the words of the Chief Cleric, I heard breathtaking sounds not only from Shikikoza and Dermuel, but also from some of the knights who were lining up behind them.

"Even then, as you know, there is now a shortage of nobility in this country. That means there is a shortage of people who can handle magic. If Sikikoza had returned from the temple to the aristocratic society, he would know that well, wouldn't he?

I wonder what connection you have with the temple chief, and it seems that Sikikoza originally grew up in the temple as a blue cleric apprentice. If I could see that, I also felt a strong aversion to the fact that I, the civilian, was putting together a blue coat. Because all the blue priests in the temple are angry that they cannot be allowed to be treated in the same line as civilians.

"In fact, only Me and Mine can perform this ritual in the Temple today. If there were a blue cleric who could perform the ritual, there would be no way a civilian witch apprentice would be put on this occasion. There's nothing more to be stunned about than unexpected stupidity. As I have said many times, Mine is here as a blue witch apprentice to perform the ritual. But it wasn't just civilians who did it. A witch apprentice given a blue coat."

Many times the Chief Cleric stressed that I am a blue witch apprentice. That would be a reversal of not being guilty of Shikikoza if it were a civilian.

I gripped the blue costume that would protect me. I thank Benno for his wise eyes, who advised me to negotiate as blue because I deal with magic.

"Then, after violating orders, renouncing his mission, he caused harm to the escort subjects, appearing demonic trees that should not have appeared, confusing the Knights and increasing their work. And the knights' pride was hurt by the fact that the knights entrusted with escorts harmed the escort subjects. Don't think it's a misdemeanor. As for the disposition, there will be a chasing from the lord"

Off his gaze from the two, the chief clergyman turned to the knights lined up in creases. And look down at Calstead kneeling in front of him with a cold gaze.

"Calstead."

"Ha!"

"It was a sin to have chosen such incompetence as an escort, and then to lack education to newcomers who didn't even know to listen to orders. I'll go after him and I'll give him the disposition."

Calstead, who said the chief cleric was angry and natural, also seemed prepared to have a disposition against him. I quietly bowed my head toward the chief cleric without changing one expression.

"This turmoil, my immorality that leads the Knights, is at stake. I apologize for the inconvenience caused to Mr. Ferdinand."

As Calstead lowered his head deeply, the knights, aligned behind him and kneeling, lowered their heads simultaneously toward the chief cleric.