It had been a month since Alon returned from the Blue Magic Tower.
"Whew—"
After obtaining the Mark of the Unrighteous, Alon became capable of using magic three times a day—or even four, if he managed his mana carefully. As of today, he had realized a new rule regarding Phrases.
Even if identical Phrases do not stack, using similar Phrases can produce an effect akin to stacking.
However, he hadn't fully mastered it yet; it seemed a specific Phrase had to precede each spell for the stacking to occur.
'It likely has something to do with the arrangement.'
Alon pondered briefly.
"…Count, your magic seems to get stronger every time I see it."
Before he could find an answer to his musings, Evan's voice reached him. Alon stopped his train of thought and replied.
"…Is that so?"
"It's not just 'is that so.' Look over there."
Following Evan's gesture, Alon turned his gaze to see a wide, deep crater in the middle of the training grounds.
"It makes no sense for a 2nd Tier spell to have that much power, does it? I mean, you've always used magic that didn't seem like 2nd Tier, but compared to a few months ago, it feels like you're on a different level now."
At Evan's words, Alon shifted his eyes back to the hollowed ground.
'True. I've felt my magic getting stronger for some reason, though I didn't know why.'
The spell Alon had used for his research this time was Gravity, a 2nd Tier spell belonging to the school of gravity magic.
However, being only 2nd Tier, its power shouldn't be enough to crush a person to death. Even if one narrowed the range to increase the output, it wasn't supposed to reach such levels.
In other words, it should have been impossible for a spell like Gravity to gouge the earth like that.
'It's certainly not an increase in power due to proficiency…'
Of course, as Alon delved deeper into magic and raised his proficiency, his spells grew daily, and his precision increased at a rapid pace.
However, proficiency only granted more precise execution and better manifestation; it didn't inherently boost the raw output of the spell itself.
'The increase in power from Phrases… there's definitely some, but that's not it either.'
For the past four months, Alon had consistently used similar Phrases for his research into stacking, and for the last two weeks, he had used almost perfectly similar Phrases interchangeably.
This meant Alon had a sample size for comparison. When measured against those samples, his magic was steadily growing stronger.
Very gradually—but if one were to collect the data, the upward trend would be as clear as a graph.
'It's not that the effect became more powerful because I got used to using Phrases.'
One of the results Alon had discovered through years of researching Phrases was that they were closer to Activation Words.
Repeating a Phrase didn't increase one's proficiency or make the spell stronger. Rather, it was like pressing a switch—an Activation Word that changed the property of the magic into a specific form or imbued it with a certain quality.
Since it made no sense for the power to increase just because he was more "practiced" at saying the words, he considered several other possibilities.
'The only reasons to suddenly get stronger in this world are… receiving Faith or receiving rewards from a Curse. First, I can rule out the former.'
He was a noble, but merely a Count of a small kingdom. At this point, he was even being subtly ignored by the underworld. It was impossible for him to be receiving Faith.
'Then that leaves… a reward obtained as compensation for suffering a specific loss due to a curse.'
Alon made a grimace at the thought but soon shook his head.
In this world, "curse rewards" only existed in the form of a curse placed by someone else sacrificing themselves, or a self-imposed curse.
Furthermore, curses were rituals primarily used in the East, and none of his current connections were rooted there.
In short, neither the former nor the latter applied to him… or so Alon told himself.
The conclusion he reached was simple.
"I must be in good condition today."
"…Is that it?"
"That's it. There's no other reason for my magic to get stronger."
It was denial.
"…I heard a letter from Yutia arrived today. I should go read it."
Taking the opportunity, he stopped his magic research and turned toward his office to read Yutia's letter.
*
The Holy Kingdom Rosario.
Unlike the Holy Religious State Vartican located beyond the Empire, Rosario worships the Goddess Sironia, who symbolizes peace and the Moon as the primary deity.
In front of a prayer house in the eastern part of Lionel—the capital city, known as the "Pure White City" because every building is made of white stone—stood a Paladin.
His name was Roc. He wore platinum plate armor that symbolized pure white, matching the city's epithet. He carefully opened the door and stepped inside.
Before long, he reached the front of the prayer house.
There, in front of a statue of the Goddess Sironia, he saw a nun with white hair.
Dressed in a neat habit with a gentle smile on her lips, she didn't appear to be a high-ranking nun.
She didn't wear the Cord of Divine Grace around her shoulders, which anyone of high rank in Rosario would possess.
In other words, the nun standing before Roc was clearly lower in rank than a Paladin.
"Good day, Sister."
Yet, as soon as he saw her, Roc immediately bowed his head and spoke.
"Hello, Sir Roc. Have you been well?"
The nun smiled and accepted the Paladin's greeting.
It was an unusual situation.
However, neither Roc nor the nun expressed any doubt about it. Rather, they acted as if this dynamic was perfectly natural.
"Yes. Thanks to you, Sister, I was able to save eight children and twenty-five lives in a small village to the southeast."
"That is wonderful news."
"It is all thanks to you."
"Not at all. You were the one who saved them, Sir Roc."
The nun's voice was gentle.
Nevertheless, Roc spoke with a firm expression, as if refusing to back down from his conviction.
"It is true that I was the one who saved them, but you were the one who gave me guidance and granted me strength when I had nothing."
As he said, Roc had not originally been a Paladin.
Though he was a devout believer in Sironia and a trainee who desperately wanted to become a Paladin, he had been unable to wield Divine Power—something every Paladin must be able to use.
In fact, he couldn't even feel it.
Because of this, he had remained a trainee for a long time, even after all his peers had mastered Divine Power and been knighted.
When his training reached its eighth year and he was on the verge of giving up on becoming a Paladin out of despair over his lack of Divine Power, he met her.
The woman with red eyes and a constant, gentle smile had told the despairing Roc one thing at their first meeting.
She told him to try believing in the 'Moon.'
At first, Roc didn't understand.
He didn't see the difference between believing in Sironia, who was the Goddess of the Moon, and believing in the Moon itself.
But Roc was desperate then. Clutching at straws, he placed his faith in the 'Moon.'
He had been that desperate.
And after several days of repeated prayer...
Roc, who hadn't gained a drop of Divine Power in twenty years, was able to use it for the first time that day. Simultaneously, he was able to become a Paladin.
His joy at being able to wield the power he thought he would never have was short-lived; he soon began to doubt the nun.
As someone born in Rosario who had believed in Sironia his entire life, he was overjoyed to wield Divine Power, but on the other hand, he feared he had stepped onto the path of heresy.
After all, he had only gained Divine Power after offering his faith to the 'Moon,' not Sironia.
But strangely, his doubt began to fade as time passed.
The reason was simple: the Divine Power he gained from believing in the 'Moon' was no different from the Divine Power others gained from believing in Sironia.
Every power he channeled through the deity had the exact same effect.
The holy artifacts permitted under the name of the God also shone brilliantly in Roc's hands, proving that his Divine Power was genuine.
Yet, the lingering discomfort in his heart didn't vanish. When he finally asked the nun why she told him to believe in the 'Moon,' she gave him an answer.
It wasn't a difficult explanation, nor was it about heresy or complex theology.
'Faith comes from unseen belief, but that takes too long. Usually, it is much easier to find faith in something that actually exists.'
'That is why I told you. The Goddess high above is visible, but the Moon is always beside us—'
'—and the Goddess Sironia is the Moon herself.'
It was simply a story about belief.
It was merely a way for people who harbor doubt in their hearts to believe in God a little more clearly.
With that answer, Roc erased the doubt from his heart.
And he was grateful to the nun.
He felt sincere gratitude toward her for helping someone as full of doubt as himself to believe in God.
"Ah, if you wish to express your gratitude, would you like to pray with me? It's almost time for prayer. Many others have gathered as well."
"I would be honored."
With Roc's nod, the nun gave a light laugh and opened the inner doors of the prayer hall.
Many people were sitting inside.
Believers, young children, trainees, ascetics, and Paladins.
They were all in different postures.
Some were standing.
Others were sitting in chairs.
Some were kneeling on the floor.
Others held each other's hands and simply bowed their heads.
However, one thing was the same: everyone in the prayer house was maintaining a solemn silence.
Without making a single sound, the believers simply bowed their heads and closed their eyes.
And, walking through them to reach the front of the prayer house, the nun—
No.
"Now then—"
She, with her gentle smile.
"Let us all pray."
Yutia Bloodia spoke, her red eyes faintly glowing as she stood with her back to the moonlight streaming through the stained glass.
"To the Great Moon."