World-Saving is a Skill

While Squishy and Nellin’s group were heading toward the snowy mountains, Amelia and Paulen were returning to the capital, and at that time, Gracie, who had stayed behind in the Magic Tower, found herself facing a new dilemma.

‘H-how did it end up like this?’

A new dilemma.

In other words, something Gracie had never experienced before, something she had never even imagined she would have to worry about, had suddenly come crashing into her life.

After the others each went their separate ways, Gracie headed for the department in charge of the Tower’s administration.

‘Subsidy… I’ll be able to get it, right?’

Before Nellin’s group left, Paulen had said to the anxious Gracie, who was worried about the subsidy issue:

“Miss Gracie, if things go well, you may be able to secure the subsidy without even publishing a thesis.”

“R-really?”

“Yes. You received the subsidy in the first place thanks to Lord Ventus’s achievements, did you not? Since you played a huge role in the battle against the Lich this time, I believe that fact alone will be enough for you to receive the subsidy.”

“Th-that would be wonderful.”

It wasn’t an impossible idea, so Gracie allowed herself a little hope.

But from the moment she arrived at the administrative office, things began to unfold in ways far beyond her expectations.

“Excuse me. I’d like to ask about the subsidy…”

“Ah, Miss Gracie! Please, come right in!”

“???”

Seeing the staff member’s attitude, Gracie felt question marks floating above her head.

Normally, the atmosphere in the administrative office was cold, stiff, and carried the clear unspoken message of ‘finish your business quickly and leave.’

And yet, here they were, welcoming her so brightly just for asking about a subsidy!

It was completely different from when she had come to ask how much time remained to claim the subsidy.

There was a reason for this unusual treatment.

Orders had come from above: make a good impression on Gracie.

Because right now, Gracie was the person attracting the most attention in the Tower—and also the one seen as having the greatest influence on the upcoming election of the next Tower Master.

If she had only been credited with a major contribution in defeating the Lich, that alone would have guaranteed her the subsidy.

But the truth of the Lich’s identity changed everything.

The Lich turned out to be none other than Ventus Frail, the Archmage of Celestial Law who had fallen into corruption due to Brooks Vessilja’s cunning trap.

Gracie had exposed the truth together with the Hero, and even struck down Brooks Vessilja herself when he attacked them in desperation.

In other words, Gracie had avenged her ancestor against a corrupt Tower Master who had hidden a vile secret.

Though she had not intended it, people now saw her as a righteous figure with a noble cause.

Brooks Vessilja, the Tower Master, was dead.

That meant a new Tower Master had to be chosen.

And while skill mattered, what truly decided the outcome was reputation and influence—because the Tower Master was chosen by vote.

Once elected, the Tower Master usually held the position until death, barring extraordinary circumstances.

In short.

With Vessilja dead, magicians of his generation and younger now had a once-in-a-lifetime chance to ascend to the seat.

So what was the best way to gather votes right now?

It was to win the support of Ventus Frail’s descendant—the very one who had struck the final blow against Brooks Vessilja.

That meant Gracie.

She was the perfect figure to capture hearts.

She had achieved her ancestor’s vengeance alongside the Hero who had fought beside him.

On top of that, the knowledge and skill she had demonstrated with magic tools at the banquet had completely changed people’s perception of her.

She was no longer just the magic-tool mage everyone had underestimated, but a capable magician in her own right.

That made her the ideal ally to gain support and prestige.

And since the administrative staff were magicians too, once pressure from their superiors came down, they had no choice but to comply.

“The subsidy? Of course it will continue! Miss Gracie, your accomplishments are no ordinary accomplishments!”

“R-really?”

“Yes! With such glorious, stirring achievements to your name, naturally the Frail family will keep receiving subsidies! Elder Neml Azoth himself has expressed full agreement with this view!”

“Ah… I see.”

‘Why are they suddenly bringing up Elder Neml Azoth’s name?’

Leaving the administrative office, Gracie let out a sigh of relief.

“Whew.”

‘Thank goodness. I don’t need to rush out a thesis after all. Just like Sir Paladin said.’

She was happy that the subsidy issue was resolved, but another thought lingered.

That thesis.

Would it really be okay to publish the thesis she had written about Squishy?

At first, she had been driven by the need for a subsidy.

Later, it had been pure curiosity that fueled her research.

But now… she found herself reluctant to make it public.

‘What if Squishy gets kidnapped again?’

If she published the thesis, the whole world would learn that there was a strange slime like Squishy out there.

Wouldn’t that draw dangerous attention?

It weighed heavily on her, realizing she had been too focused on subsidies to consider this.

She was still wrestling with that worry when it happened.

“Well, well, Miss Gracie Frail! Do you have a moment?”

“Y-yes?!”

Gracie was startled. She had never been approached with questions in the street before.

But the real surprise was just beginning.

“I wanted to ask about your new methods of magic-tool application…”

“Hey, don’t cut in line! Gracie! I used to look down on you a little, but after hearing your explanation at the banquet, I’ve changed my mind! Give me the chance to research with you…”

“Save that for later! Hey, Gracie, you know who I am, right? That’s right! The next Tower Master-to-be—me, Yuar Doxz!”

“Uh, wh-what? Whaaaat!?”

Suddenly surrounded by magicians trying to advertise themselves, Gracie fell into a panic.

‘W-what the heck? Why are they acting like this!?’

Having always been looked down on as a mere magic-tool mage, Gracie couldn’t process the situation immediately.

“U-uh… I, um, have some very important business today! Excuse me!”

“What! Hold it right there!”

“Are you rejecting my proposal?!”

“Yuar Doxz! Remember the name—Yuar Doxz!”

Gracie hurriedly teleported back home.

“What the… seriously, what’s going on? Why is everyone acting like that?”

She never imagined she would become a person everyone needed to win over in order to become the next Tower Master, nor that people’s perception of magic-tool mages had suddenly improved.

She had thought the only thing left was the happy problem of deciding which magic to learn next until Troll contacted her again, now that the subsidy issue was resolved.

“Gracie Frail! What do you think of this magic tool?”

“To tell the truth, I’ve always had a great interest in magic-tool mages myself.”

“As for me! I was a classmate of Ventus Frail! So clearly, the next Tower Master should be—”

“Do magic tools cost a lot to use? If you don’t mind, I’d like to offer you a little gift.”

And so, for an entire week, every time Gracie appeared on the street, magicians would rush up to her.

Deep down, she could only think:

‘Lord Ventus! Please come back soon! And if possible, take me with you and teach me magic!’

The sudden flood of attention was nothing but a burden to her.

***

One month after leaving the Magic Tower.

Amelia and Paulen arrived at the Holy Capital.

As soon as they arrived, they reported on the events that had taken place in the Tower.

“Brooks Vessilja met an end befitting his sins.”

“Well done, Saintess Amelia. And you as well, Paladin Paulen.”

Upon hearing the report, the High Priests prayed that this punishment would bring comfort to Ventus Frail and Presia, who had gone to God’s side.

After finishing the report on the Tower, Paulen brought up what Godrick’s party had told him about Viscount Fedfil.

“What? Such a man exists?”

“He is unworthy of his noble status.”

“His crimes must be revealed, and he must pay for them.”

“Yes. That’s why I believe we should send an investigative unit to uncover Viscount Fedfil’s sins in full.”

“I agree with Paladin Paulen’s suggestion to dispatch investigators.”

“I agree.”

“I agree as well.”

Having just heard about the punishment of Brooks Vessilja, the High Priests immediately agreed with Paulen’s opinion, believing that even if the culprit was a noble, someone consumed by vile desires could not be forgiven.

A few days later, once all their work in the Holy Capital was finished—

“Sigh…”

Amelia, having completed her morning duties, lay in her room staring blankly at the ceiling and let out a sigh.

“Do you miss Squishy, Amelia?”

Hearing Paulen’s question as he stood guard in the room, Amelia smiled softly.

“Yes. I feel a little empty without him. What about you, Paulen?”

“Of course I miss Squishy dearly. Hrk! I wish I could have stayed by his side to witness more of his growth.”

“By now, Squishy and the others must have arrived in the capital, don’t you think?”

“The capital, huh… I can already see Squishy’s excitement at the sight of all those crowds.”

“Hehe. I can see it too.”

After a few more words of small talk, Amelia went outside with Paulen to take a walk through the streets.

“Greetings, Saintess.”

“Hello, Saintess!”

“It’s a wonderful day today.”

After Presia’s memorial service, Amelia, now the only Saintess remaining, drew even greater attention from the faithful.

Feeling the weight of more eyes and goodwill upon her, Amelia also felt a greater sense of responsibility.

‘Now that Saintess Presia is no longer in the Holy Capital, I have to work harder for the sake of those who believe in me and support me.’

It was then—

Flap flap!

A white dove flew toward Amelia.

“Hm?”

Before it reached her, Paulen noticed a note tied to the dove’s leg.

When he extended his palm upward, the dove landed neatly in his hand.

“Paulen? That dove… is it a report from the investigative unit?”

“No. If it were from the investigators, they would have used a hawk, not a dove. Besides, the unit likely hasn’t even reached Viscount Fedfil’s location yet.”

Paulen untied the note from the dove’s leg and unfolded it to read.

“…Haha. So that’s what this is.”

Letting out a small laugh, Paulen turned to Amelia.

“Saintess, the message we’ve been waiting for has arrived.”

“The one we’ve been waiting for? Could it be—!”

“Saintess, how about we take a longer walk outside together?”

“Yes! Let’s go!”

Amelia and Paulen left the Holy Capital, moving to a quiet, secluded area to continue their conversation.

“Paulen, what was written on the note?”

“It said that once we left the Holy Capital, we would be invited to a prepared meeting place.”

Vwoooom!

As soon as Paulen finished speaking, a black space appeared in front of them.

And from that black space—

“Amelia, it’s been a while.”

“Saintess Presia!”

It was Presia, appearing young again thanks to Troll’s illusion magic.