TBV 23

Chapter 23

Wait

While the people of the Temple were celebrating the emergence of a new “Saint,” the mages of the Magic Tower could not hide their sour expressions.

“So what? In the end, this means this place isn’t a Holy Land.”

“Then what about the Holy Land proclamation ceremony?”

“We’re obviously not doing it.”

Their gazes all turned toward a set of massive, heavy bundles. Dozens of trunks filled with ceremonial Temple items—flags, incense burners, ritual bowls, and more—sat piled up.

“Tch, seriously. We carried all this for nothing.”

“Exactly. If we hadn’t brought these, we could’ve come with two fewer people.”

“The Temple really is hopeless. Leaving without properly investigating anything first.”

“My point exactly! What kind of place operates like a roadside shop? They just rush in without any plan.”

While the mages were grumbling in a corner, a villager who had been muttering to himself suddenly spotted them and rushed over in excitement.

“Um, excuse me! I have something I’d like to ask the mages!”

“Oh, sorry, we’re a bit busy—”

A young mage tried to leave quickly, but an older mage grabbed him by the collar and stopped him, turning to the villager with a gentle smile.

“No, we’re not busy at all. You’re the innkeeper of this village, correct? What is it? Do you need repairs or something?”

“Ah, no, not that….”

The innkeeper lowered his voice after glancing around nervously.

“Is it possible to purify a curse with magic?”

“Hmm. That is one of the goals of our Magic Tower. Many mages are researching it, but so far, there has been no success.”

The innkeeper swallowed hard again, checked his surroundings once more, then spoke even more quietly.

“Then… is it possible for someone to be both a mage and a saint?”

At that moment, sparks flashed in the eyes of all the mages.

Everyone knew—magic and divine power could not coexist.

Magic itself was an academic field developed to imitate the effects of divine power.

So a mage who was also a saint? There was only one reason a rural villager would ask such a question.

“Why do you ask? Did that saint use magic?”

The mage asked casually.

The innkeeper nodded immediately.

“Yes! I saw them open spatial storage magic right in front of me!”

“Could you tell us more about that?”

The middle-aged mage smiled softly, his expression sharp with interest.

It felt like an opportunity had finally come—to strike the arrogant Temple back where it hurt.

Meanwhile

“⋯⋯Chii, chiiik?” (…Is this bastard serious?)

I shot Calix Nepherto a glare full of murderous intent.

But he simply shook his head solemnly.

“No. Even if you give me sad eyes, it won’t work.”

“Chii! Chii chii?! Chit chiiik!” (These aren’t sad eyes! They’re angry eyes!)

I protested vigorously, even pointing accusingly at him, but he simply raised a large palm to silence me.

“Now then. Focus. I’ll say it again.”

He enunciated each syllable slowly and clearly.

“Wai—t.”

Next to his hand was a single large walnut piece.

I boiled with rage.

“Chiiiii!!” (Aaaaaa!!)

This damned guy—now he was making me do obedience training using “wait”?!

And with my walnut—the precious one I earned from Taryan!

If you want to train me, use your own dried meat or bread scraps!

I stomped the ground furiously. But Calix interpreted it his own way.

“Right. I understand. You’re hungry, and it’s frustrating to wait in front of delicious walnuts.”

“Chiiik!!” (I’m not hungry!!)

“But a mouse must learn patience to become a good mouse.”

“Chii chii?!?” (I don’t want to be a good mouse!!)

“And besides, even that so-called quack healer—who was once a saint—said you need dietary control.”

“Chii?!?” (What?!)

Wait—what did this jerk just say?!

“You… you’ve been thinking I’m fat all along, haven’t you?!”

I rushed at him in fury, claws out.

Tatata-tak.

Shashashaa.

After a brief but intense battle, I ended up firmly caught in his grasp.

“Chiiiii…” (Damn it…)

Calix looked at me with a serious expression.

“Hmm. Such strong resistance. You must really like walnuts.”

That’s not it!!

“This training may take longer than expected.”

“….”

I really wanted to write something on the ground to argue back.

But I couldn’t.

We were already being suspected. If I revealed I could write too, my identity would be exposed for sure.

‘Fine. I’ll give up. Giving up is easier.’

I closed my eyes tightly, remembering some ancient wisdom.

Meanwhile, Calix placed a small piece of dried meat on my paw and said,

“Alright. First, calm yourself down. Have a bite of this.”

“….”

I looked between the dried meat and Calix, then let out a long sigh.

And then I threw the meat straight at his face.

“Chii!” (I’m not eating it!)

Thwack!

The chewy piece of dried meat slapped onto his forehead.

“…?!”

He blinked repeatedly, looking completely stunned.

The physical damage was minimal—but the psychological damage seemed significant.

“Chii chiiik chii chit.” (Hmph. Stop provoking me.)

After watching me grumble for a while, he muttered to himself.

“…Is this rebellion? Like last time when you ran away?”

My fists trembled.

I genuinely wanted to hit him.

Even after that, he kept trying to train me whenever we were on the move.

“Let’s try again.”

“….”

“Here’s a walnut. But you must wait.”

“….”

“Wait.”

Of course, I did not wait.

I snatched the walnut and crunched it loudly while glaring at him.

He looked disappointed for a moment, but quickly recovered and pulled out another walnut.

“It’s okay. This happens. If we keep going, it’ll work eventually.”

…This stubborn bastard.

I was starting to get worried.

At this rate, my precious walnuts would be gone soon.

‘I’m the type who saves the best food for last…’

But if I kept indulging his “wait training,” my dignity would hit rock bottom.

I sighed deeply.

Then a thought suddenly struck me.

‘Why is he even making me do dog training exercises?’

I remembered something from the system’s glimpses of his past.

He used to raise a dog.

‘Don’t tell me… he thinks I’m a substitute for that dog?’

My eyes immediately sharpened.

If that was true, I would absolutely beat him up.

I might tolerate being treated like a pet mouse—but I will NOT be treated like a dog.

‘You might be able to call a flying squirrel a mouse, but you can’t turn a dog into one!’

While I burned with righteous fury, Calix continued relentlessly.

“Wait.”

In the end, I surrendered.

Mostly because the walnut pouch was getting noticeably lighter.

I placed both my front and back paws neatly on the ground and stared at the walnut, drooling.

“…!”

Calix’s eyes widened in surprise.

He swallowed hard and said carefully,

“Alright. You can eat now.”

The moment the command dropped, I grabbed my walnut.

After that, he kept repeating the training in disbelief, and I obediently followed along.

“Indeed… if you keep at it, it works.”

He nodded proudly, then suddenly lifted me up.

“Good. This should be enough preparation.”

“…Chii?” (…Preparation?)

Before I could even finish questioning him—

The ground began to tremble violently.

RUMBLE──.

‘Wait. This feels familiar.’

As I thought this, the massive tree stump where Calix had been sitting cracked open.

And from deep underground, a pitch-black obelisk erupted straight through its center.