Dark Fantasy Normalized-Chapter 55

"Isn’t that an inquisitor’s uniform?"

"Judging by the red cross, she’s not just any inquisitor—she’s a High Pontiff."

"But what was with that absurd question-and-answer session?"

"...Do you think she sensed something unusual about him?"

Gerhen had chosen to confront Lisir at the Tower’s main gates, where traffic was busiest, precisely to draw as much attention as possible. The point of his plan was to publicly accuse Lisir before the largest possible audience and turn the tide of public opinion in his favor.

Instead, the crowd began to buzz with curiosity.

"Everyone knew he had extraordinary abilities, but for the High Pontiff to recognize him at a glance?"

"And yet, they’re accusing him of being an accomplice to a dark mage?"

"What do you think?"

"Are you really asking me to choose between the Pontiff’s judgment and a dark mage’s? Give me a break—I’d rather not test my luck against the inquisitors."

"Heh, fair point."

"No, the foolish comment wasn’t yours. It was—"

The Pontiff’s unprecedented trust in Lisir piqued the crowd’s interest instead of casting doubt on him.

Far from turning the tide of public opinion, Gerhen was only accelerating its shift. Alarmed, he quickly adjusted his strategy.

"I find this... surprising. Is that all you have to say?"

"Yes," the Pontiff replied. "Based on what I sense, he is not lying."

Before she could elaborate on her reasoning, Gerhen interrupted.

"That’s an oddly blatant defense."

He judged that he had baited her into acting rashly enough.

Gerhen wasn’t a fool. His political savvy had earned him his position as the leader of the nobles’ faction. Despite the Pontiff’s rank, he wasn’t about to let himself be overawed.

After all, this was the Mage Tower. While the Pontiff had secured her reason for involvement through Didora’s request, she was still an outsider. If Gerhen pushed back strategically, her influence could be curtailed.

"Defense? Are you accusing me of shielding a heretic for some ulterior motive?"

The Pontiff shot back immediately, her tone sharp. She was no pushover, and Gerhen knew it.

Before the exchange could devolve into a full-blown mudslinging match, Gerhen stepped back with a practiced, insincere smile.

"High Pontiff, as Master Gerhen mentioned earlier, this case has entered a new phase."

Several high-ranking mages aligned with the nobles’ faction stepped forward to lend their support.

"We’re unsure what Master Didora told you, but for us, this matter is far from resolved."

"As proud members of the Mage Tower, we strive to resolve this matter independently. We hope you can respect that."

These masters were deeply tied to Gerhen. Their shared fate ensured their loyalty. If Gerhen went down, they would go down with him.

The Pontiff, in contrast, found herself at a disadvantage. Her role suddenly appeared excessive and intrusive, making her seem like an outsider forcing her way into the Tower’s internal affairs.

Some students saw through Gerhen’s ploy and felt disgusted, but they didn’t dare show it.

In this public setting, siding with the Pontiff could result in being branded as a student who betrayed the Tower to support the Church.

Gerhen’s cunning plan was working, even if it had suffered some hiccups.

Yet, Gerhen couldn’t shake his frustration.

Damn it. How did it come to this?

This was supposed to be his chance to corner Lisir easily. Instead, the Pontiff’s unexpected involvement had turned the situation into a precarious balancing act.

"What’s happening?"

"Master Gerhen is confronting Lisir."

"Did you hear? Master Didora brought a High Pontiff from the Church—"

The crowd around the gates only continued to grow. Gerhen’s mind raced furiously.

His sharp political instincts warned him: If he wanted to press further, he would need to go all-in, consequences be damned.

He was prepared to take that risk. Why else would he have involved a dark mage to fabricate evidence?

But the Pontiff’s overt support of Lisir was an unpredictable variable. It made pushing forward too dangerous.

Better to cut my losses here and regroup later.

Just as Gerhen decided to de-escalate, Lisir spoke.

"So, what exactly is your point?"

The chaotic atmosphere froze instantly.

In the charged silence, Lisir, with all eyes on him, stared directly at Gerhen.

"I don’t know why you seem so fixated on me, Master Gerhen, but let’s settle this matter decisively here and now."

Gerhen’s face twisted with a mix of shock and fury.

Caught between the Pontiff and the Tower’s masters, the last thing he expected was for Lisir—a mere wandering mage—to assert himself so boldly.

"Tulane deceived the mages of the Tower. And because of me, her entire scheme fell apart, leaving her a bitter, defeated failure. If she has spoken ill of me, her intent is clear: deceit and spite."

"Are you implying that I am falling for the lies of a dark mage?" Gerhen’s tone carried a subtle but undeniable threat.

Lisir ignored him entirely and continued, addressing the crowd.

"Master Gerhen is a respected figure of the Gray Mage Tower. Surely he wouldn’t accuse me based solely on the words of a dark mage."

Gerhen clenched his fists tightly, his nails digging into his palms. The audacity of this illegitimate mage infuriated him. Yet, he couldn’t afford to show it.

Attempting to silence Lisir with authority alone would only backfire.

"I trust you have more concrete evidence and a proper plan," Lisir said, his tone even. "Otherwise, this amounts to punishing me for the ‘crime’ of rooting out a dark mage."

Having spent over a decade navigating the intricacies of noble politics, Lisir knew exactly how to present himself in this situation.

He spoke with decorum, choosing his words and tone carefully.

The crowd hung on his every word.

At this moment, Lisir wasn’t just a wandering mage or an illegitimate child. He was a dignified speaker demanding justice.

The crowd’s focus shifted from Lisir to Gerhen, putting the noble mage under an intense spotlight.

Gerhen’s escape routes were disappearing. He was backed into a corner.

"Quite bold, aren’t you?"

Feigning composure, Gerhen finally retrieved the item he had prepared.

"I take it you’re confident enough to prove your innocence."

Though he hated the idea of using this in front of the Pontiff, he had no choice.

"This item—"

***

Meltas and Pien immediately recognized the object Gerhen revealed.

Inside the box were two feathers of a peculiar form—

no, it was one feather split in two.

It was the feather of the "Purebird," a mythical creature. Though its exact mechanism remained a mystery, it possessed the unique trait of reacting to the "karma" of its subject, darkening in color as a result.

The Purity Feather was divided into three categories:

The Tail Feather,

the Wing Feather,

and the Body Feather.

The closer a feather was to the Purebird's heart, the stronger its reaction to karma. The Church frequently utilized this property of the feathers when selecting priests for their ranks.

Typically, the Tail Feather was used.

Even the most virtuous clergyman, who had led a life free from moral corruption, would find the Tail Feather’s pristine whiteness slightly dimmed upon contact. Only those of the highest priestly rank could maintain the Wing Feather's pure state.

"This is a Tail Feather of the Purebird. If you are truly innocent, this Purity Feather will prove it," Gerhen declared.

Listening to his words, Pien and Meltas shared the same thought:

What sophistry.

Karma was not a definitive measure for identifying a dark mage.

And yet, Gerhen’s words carried a subtle but persuasive power.

The combination of “Purity Feather” and “dark magic” had sparked intrigue among the crowd.

All eyes turned to Lisir once more.

“...”

Meltas and Pien glanced at Lisir and nodded slightly.

If anyone could prove their innocence through such a distorted method as the Tail Feather of the Purebird, it would be him.

Lisir, too, gave a faint nod and reached for the box Gerhen presented.

***

"..."

Lisir’s hand moved slowly toward the feather.

Gerhen allowed a triumphant smile to form in his mind.

Though Lisir seemed confident, reaching for the Purity Feather without hesitation, it was a fool’s confidence. After all, the feather in the box wasn’t the Tail Feather—it was the Body Feather, meticulously crafted to appear as if it were the lesser one.

Even Gerhen admitted to himself that it was a crude trick.

But it didn’t matter.

He knew that in moments like these, logic and reason weren’t the deciding factors—what mattered was the immediacy of a striking impression.

The Body Feather, far more sensitive than even the Church’s saints could endure, would blacken and burn the moment Lisir’s hand touched it. The reaction would etch a vivid image into the minds of everyone present.

‘It’s done.’

Gerhen inwardly celebrated.

Lisir’s hand reached the feather, grasping it firmly, and then—

"..."

And then—

Nothing happened.

Not even after enough time had passed for everyone to register what they were seeing.

The crowd began murmuring.

"...No!"

The exclamation burst from Gerhen’s lips before he could stop himself.

A strong reaction wasn’t strictly necessary for his plan to work. Even a slight darkening of the feather would have sufficed, and Gerhen was confident he could spin the narrative from there.

But the feather gave him no room for maneuver. It remained as pristine and pure as when it first lay in the box.

"There must be a mistake!"

Panic-stricken, Gerhen acted without thinking—something he would never normally do. He reflexively grabbed the other half of the feather left in the box.

With a sharp whoosh, the half-feather blackened, flared up, and disintegrated into ash in his hand.

"..."

"..."

The murmurs of the crowd halted abruptly.

The spectators’ gazes shifted from Lisir’s perfectly white feather to the empty hand of Gerhen.

"..."

Even Gerhen found himself speechless, staring blankly at his own hand.

***

"...Ha."

Bardros, the High Priest, who had been silently observing the entire scene, let out a faint chuckle.

She had assumed that Gerhen must have tampered with the Tail Feather somehow.

In fact, she had prepared herself to intervene on Lisir’s behalf if necessary—

but what was this absurd turn of events?

Regardless.

By this point, there was no harm in her stepping in. She approached Lisir and gently took the Purity Feather from his hand.

Just as she was about to speak to clarify the situation—

Updated from freewёbnoνel.com.

"...?"

She paused, an odd sensation creeping into her thoughts.

She looked down at the feather in her hand.

Could it have been her imagination? The once pristine Tail Feather, so pure just moments ago, now appeared slightly dimmed, as though its brilliance had faded.

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[Title: What the hell is wrong with this damn Tail Feather?]

Content: Can’t I just raise my holy power?

: "Pick it up and prove your purity!": "It’s not about holy power, it’s about karma, smh."

-[OP]: "The only 'karma' I know is level-up karma, WTF.": "Check your status screen, there should be something labeled 'Karma.'"

-[OP]: "Karma?": "Yeah, that’s your ‘karma.’"

-[OP]: "Ah, shit... why does that sound like a personal attack?"

-[OP]: "So, what is it, then?": "Basically, it quantifies the good influence you’ve had on the world."

-[OP]: "Oh, that’s what karma means? I always thought that champ’s name was random."

-[OP]: "Is 21 a high number?": "Does it sound like it?"

-[OP]: "WTF, how do I raise it, then?": "It goes up automatically when you clear destiny quests."

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