Chapter 31
Marcus, who had disappeared somewhere, only returned right around the time the carriage was about to depart.
The expedition resumed its journey, and Marcus and I sat opposite each other inside the shaking carriage, each gazing out our own window.
Earlier I’d been too sleepy to notice, but now that we were just sitting and facing each other, it felt awkward.
Marcus, apparently also uncomfortable with the long silence, glanced at me and finally spoke.
“About the purification ritual I mentioned last time…”
“Ah, right. I never gave you an answer. I’ve decided—I’ll go through with the purification once this expedition is over.”
“That’s your decision, then?”
“Yes. I’ll count on you.”
“No, please—thank you. I was the one who brought it up first. I’ll see it through to the end.”
“Thank you, Sir Marcus.”
Even after I thanked him, Marcus looked strangely dissatisfied.
I couldn’t understand why—he was the one who had suggested it in the first place.
After another pause, he carefully asked,
“If I may ask… how did you come to be a dark mage, Lady Lydia?”
I couldn’t answer.
How could I? I didn’t even know myself. Why was I a necromancer?
Seeing my hesitation, Marcus hurried to add,
“I don’t mean to criticize. I was just curious.”
“Curious about what exactly?”
“Well, if you became a dark mage, you must possess great magical power, so I was wondering why you…”
“Ah. You’re asking why I became a dark mage when I could’ve lived as a regular magician.”
When I finished his sentence for him, Marcus looked flustered and quickly withdrew the question.
“Yes, that was rude of me. You don’t need to answer.”
I didn’t find it rude, but he bowed his head apologetically anyway.
If I were to tell him it was fine, I’d have to give an answer—but the problem was, I didn’t have one.
My name and my knowledge of necromancy—that was all I knew about myself.
What kind of life had I lived to end up a dark mage—a necromancer, of all things?
Unlike ordinary mages, dark mages can only wield a few extremely powerful forms of magic.
That’s why I was limited to necromancy and spirit summoning—mostly the former.
Dark magic requires immense talent because each spell carries tremendous destructive power, even though one can only learn a few.
In other words, only people who are both exceptionally gifted and have decided to completely ruin their lives end up becoming dark mages.
They each have their reasons, but most are social outcasts who fell into darkness while chasing greater power.
Was I one of them too?
If so, maybe it’s better I never know.
I’m Lydia now—and what matters more than a forgotten past is the life I have ahead.
When I first arrived in this world, I had only two goals in mind:
to save Cassian, and to survive myself.
Through countless twists and turns, I succeeded in bringing Cassian back—and now I even have the Duke of Bernstein and the Grand Duchess as strong allies.
Maybe it’s time I start thinking about something else.
Cassian once said he was already wondering what he could do when he was just ten years old—
I can’t live as a useless freeloader forever, can I?
After this expedition, once I complete the purification, maybe I can become something too.
Someone who can proudly stand beside Cassian.
While I was deep in thought, the carriage rattled on, day faded into night, and darkness settled.
We spent the night somewhere in the mountains, then brushed off the dawn dew and moved on again.
Marcus chose to ride in a different carriage, leaving me with one all to myself.
A week passed like that.
Even though all I did was sit in the carriage, by the seventh day every part of my body ached.
I thought I might die of exhaustion before we ever got to the Demon King—but at last, the expedition reached Mount Malfren.
To rest before the upcoming battle, we decided to spend the final night in a small village at the foot of the mountain.
That meant—for the first time in a week—I could sleep in a bed.
When Cassian said we could also take a bath, I nearly cried.
“You’ve done well, Lydia,” Cassian said, taking my hand as I stepped down from the carriage.
“Not at all. You and everyone else had it much harder.”
I only said that because others had been riding on horseback the whole way, and I didn’t want to sound like I was whining.
But when Cassian saw my face, he frowned as if looking at something dreadful.
“I’ll have them prepare beef for dinner.”
“Beef? All of a sudden?”
“You look like someone who needs beef.”
What kind of face needs beef?
I touched my cheeks and asked what he meant, but Cassian only said, with complete seriousness, that I should eat some.
Once I got to my room and looked in the mirror, I finally understood.
I looked like I’d been through three days of nonstop battle—sunken eyes, dark circles drooping all the way to my mouth.
Cassian somehow managed to shine even while covered in dust, but my face… what a disaster.
Even after soaking in hot water, the fatigue and the shadows under my eyes didn’t fade.
I decided to eat dinner and go straight to bed.
When Cassian and I arrived at the dining hall, Marcus was already there waiting.
The moment he saw me, he looked alarmed.
“Good heavens. What happened to you in the few days I didn’t see you?”
I thought he’d be in the same state as me, but even Marcus was glowing now—just like Cassian.
Were handsome people immune to dark circles or something?
As I grumbled inwardly, Marcus reached a hand over my head.
A soft, creamy white light poured from his palm and washed over me.
Instinctively, I flinched.
A cleric’s holy power was poison to dark mages—one wrong move and I could die.
But nothing happened.
In fact, I felt… refreshed.
My muscle aches vanished, and I felt like I could run while carrying Cassian on my back.
The healing light spread from me to Cassian and Ethan before it dispersed.
“Wow. So this is the healing power of the Wandering Sage. No wonder everyone’s so desperate for a recommendation letter.”
Even Ethan, who usually disliked Marcus, couldn’t hide his admiration.
Marcus smiled, clearly pleased, and said to Cassian,
“Told you I’d pull my weight.”
Then he casually sat down at our table and gestured for me to take a seat beside him.
“Please, have a seat, Lady Lydia.”
Cassian gave him a look of mild disapproval but didn’t tell him to leave.
I sat in the chair Cassian pulled out for me and asked curiously,
“So it’s true—your healing power is different from divine power?”
“Yes. I’m the only cleric who wasn’t chosen by any god.”
“Ah…”
Thinking I’d touched a sore spot, I trailed off—but Marcus smiled lightly.
“Thanks to that, I live quite freely.”
Just as only those with a core capable of holding mana can become mages, only those who can contain divine power can become clerics.
So technically, Marcus wasn’t a proper cleric—he was an exception.
But that also meant he could abandon that identity anytime he wished.
And in that case, it would be the temple’s loss, not his.
Unlike other clerics bound by strict temple rules, Marcus could roam freely across the empire—likely because of this very exception.
Maybe that’s also why such a remarkable person never even appeared in the novel.
It felt strange realizing I was now dining with someone like him.
The novel The Saint and the Hidden Mastermind was told from the alternating perspectives of Cassian—the male lead—and the saint, Irene.
The two first met during this very expedition, but since Irene was soon kidnapped, their relationship had barely begun.
Had the story continued, would their romance have developed too?
Now that I thought about it, why was the title The Saint and the Hidden Mastermind Join Hands?
Was the male lead supposed to be the mastermind?
Wait—does that mean Cassian was the hidden mastermind?!
I froze mid-bite and stared at Cassian, horrified.
“Lydia, are you unwell?” Cassian asked, tilting his head slightly.
There’s no way he’s the mastermind.
What kind of hidden villain works this hard to save the world?
Then… maybe Cassian isn’t the male lead?
“Lydia?”
I didn’t answer, only tilted my head in confusion, and Cassian reached out to me.
His hand brushed gently against my cheek—so warm and tender.
That face, those eyes, that voice…
No, he is the male lead.
There’s no way he isn’t.
And there’s no way this man is the hidden mastermind.
Who knows what the dropout author was thinking.
Maybe this world started as their creation,
but since the author who killed Cassian off is gone—and Cassian now lives—
this world belongs to me and us now.
