Quick note: The nun from two chapters ago is not the same one in this chapter (They both exist), I will make the adjustments tomorrow.
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After the cup shattered, Tanaka forced himself to stay still. No twitch. No flinch. He simply grabbed his notebook and scribbled quickly:
"Sorry, it slipped."
Garitch raised an eyebrow. "I know you can't help it, but flashing a sheet of paper at me doesn't feel sincere at all."
Tanaka maintained the same calm posture behind the counter, but his thoughts were racing.
What the hell is going on?Tristan… was looking for me? Why?
He understood why Crusch and Emilia would want him found—the alliance meant they still hadn't given up on rescuing him. That had comforted him, even if only a little.
But Tristan?That man had zero reason to chase after him.
Garitch claimed it was an order from higher-ups. But for what purpose? And was that even the truth?
The old man must've noticed Tanaka drifting into his thoughts because he spoke again."Do you know something about it, James?"
Tanaka shook his head. Garitch let out a hum.
"What a weird name, though. Why's he looking for him anyway?"
"No idea," Garitch continued, rubbing his chin. "He didn't say much. But he mentioned the guy has strange black hair—rare around here. Oh, and he said he wanted to talk to you too. Even after I told him about your amnesia, he insisted."
Tanaka exhaled slowly, shoulders slumping just a fraction.
What a pain.
"By the way, James—"
Tanaka immediately held up a note:
"No."
Garitch scowled. "I wasn't even finished! And for the record, yesterday was a great day."
No it wasn't, Tanaka thought darkly.
He had got into a fist fight with customers to try and protect a little girl who turned out to be a shinobi who was monitoring him because apparently, he was suspicious.
In addition, A knight who undoubtably is holding a grudge against him is tracking him all the way here.
"Save it for another day. I've got to head to the church later."
"Oh? Melty-Chan didn't come looking for you? Wait… did you become religious or something?"
Tanaka flashed another sheet.
"No. I want to speak with Melty-San."
The Divine Dragon Church was built on faith in Volcanica's blessing—its whole structure shaped by the ancient covenant between the dragon and Lugunica. Over generations, the belief swelled into the idea that the dragon's grace extended over all good people.
Tanaka, however, felt no pull toward the dragon.Great or not, Volcanica has nothing to do with me.
He wasn't born into this world. Therefor, he held merely some impressions, and no particular stance towards the great calamity, the witches, religions and politics.
Garitch suddenly grinned ear to ear, and Tanaka, anticipating nonsense, hurriedly scribbled again.
"You're wrong."
"I didn't even say anything yet! But—just noting it down—falling for a nun? Truly sinful, James."
Tanaka slid another note across the counter:
"Again, you're wrong."
Garitch only cackled. "I mean, I can't blame you. She's got great assets, you know? How nice it must be, being young—"
CRASH.
Another cup dropped.
This time, Tanaka wrote before Garitch could even open his mouth.
"I dropped this one on purpose."
"OI! Reflect on your actions, you brat!"
So much for pretending to be mute.If anything, Garitch became more talkative around him.
He glanced toward Nora. She'd been sweeping the floor earlier, but now she paused—gaze flicking toward him before she quickly looked away.
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After finishing his shift at Brightsun, Tanaka headed straight toward the church.
Though Volcanica was a pillar of faith primarily in Lugunica, devotion to the Divine Dragon had seeped far beyond its borders. The legend of the ancient covenant—and how the dragon halted the Witch of Envy's near-world-ending rampage—had carved its way into the beliefs of many nations.
Which explained the massive turnout even here in Kararagi.
As Tanaka pushed open the wooden doors, a cheerful voice rang out:
"Ah! It's Jay-Chan!"
Melty Pristis—A young nun with beauty outsized even by her reputation. Her twin purple tails swayed just above the floor, each wrapped in delicate golden chains. Her amber eyes shone warmly beneath an ahoge that bobbed whenever she moved. She wore a flowing blue dress with a side-slit, white knee-high boots, and around her neck hung the golden dragon-shaped emblem of her faith.
"What brings you here?" she asked, leaning slightly forward. "Have you finally decided to join the Church?"
Tanaka wrote:
"I'm sorry, but dragons do not like me."
It was an excuse—But also true.
Ground dragons despised him for reasons he could only guess at. Riding them, even in carriages, always ended with snarls and resistance. Ironically, they behaved better back when he looked like the Sin Archbishop of Pride… though even then, it wasn't great.
Melty laughed gently."Well, earth dragons aren't all bright, so don't let them discourage you. Divine grace embraces anyone with goodness in their heart—and James definitely qualifies."
Tanaka hesitated before writing the real reason he had come:
"I'm looking for books on healing magic."
Melty's smile faltered. "Is this about Hugo-Chan?"
He nodded.
"I've been contacted by his parents, too," she admitted, voice softening. "But there's nothing I can do for him…"
It wasn't a surprise, his parents must have reach multiple people to try and cure their son.
Tanaka quickly scribbled:
"I thought Yang magic might help."
Healing was usually associated with water magic. Yang magic strengthened and bolstered the body—though how it worked was still mostly a mystery to him. But if he could deepen his understanding, it might give him a chance to treat the boy.
"You can use Yang magic too?" Melty blinked, impressed.
"I just want to read."
He never used it before and it was the element he had the least understanding. But given the current situation, it was the only path he hadn't checked.
Melty's shoulders slumped as if the words burdened her."I'm sorry, Jay-Chan… but the library is restricted. Only designated church members may enter."
He expected that answer.Still, the disappointment sank in his gut like a stone.
As he studied her troubled expression—her wanting to help but bound by rules—Tanaka caught himself staring.
Her features were striking.Delicate but expressive.Warm but dignified.
Beautiful, he found himself thinking.
He snapped out of it almost immediately.
I must've lost my damn mind.
Then Garitch's earlier comment echoed traitorously in his mind.Tanaka's eyes flicked—just for a fraction of a second—toward her chest.
His face flushed beneath his mask.
No. No, I 100% lost my mind.That pervert old man is infecting me!
He is no longer a teenager. Heck! Even if he was a teenager, his behavior would be too shameful.
Realizing where his thoughts were drifting, Tanaka banged his forehead against the wall while holding his mask tightly to make sure it doesn't fall.
Once.Twice.Three times—
Melty blinked, concerned. "J-James?? Are you okay?!"
Melty flinched, her twin-tails bouncing as she stepped closer, amber eyes wide with worry.
Tanaka, still facing the wall, slowly lifted one thumb in the air. A silent I'm fine.(He absolutely was not.)
Melty watched him for a moment, torn between laughter and concern. Then her expression softened as a thought crossed her mind.
"Well… James always helps us here," she murmured, almost to herself. "So you should be allowed to enter. Don't worry—I'll talk to the other sisters and brothers about it."
Her words made him blink.He'd only arrived in Kararagi two weeks ago, yet he'd already become a regular helping hand whenever the church tended to the sick or injured. With healers always in short supply, his natural talent made a difference… whether he wanted credit or not.
Tanaka hesitated—unsure what to write in response—so he simply dipped his head.
Melty hurried inside the temple. Minutes passed. Then more.Finally, she returned, breath slightly short from rushing.
"Good news, Jay-Chan!" she beamed. "You're allowed inside the library—for about two hours. It's the best we could arrange on short notice."
Tanaka's eyes widened behind the mask despite himself.
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Warm, golden light poured across the courtyard as Melty led him back outside. The air smelled faintly of incense and old stone.
"I'm sorry I couldn't let you stay longer," she said, hands folded in front of her, her voice genuinely apologetic.
He shook his head immediately.
"Don't apologize.""It's not like I left empty-handed."
Melty brightened, a relieved smile curving her lips. "I'm glad… If there's anything else I can help you with, just tell me. Anytime."
She gave a small bow, then headed down the steps toward the temple—her twin-tails swaying gently with each step.
Tanaka watched her go for a moment before sighing and turning back to the Inn.
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Garitch spotted him the moment he stepped in.
"You took your sweet time," the old man chuckled. "Did everything go smoothly?"
Tanaka didn't bother responding. Something about Garitch's grin just irritated him today. Instead, he walked straight past him toward the stairs.
Garitch blinked after him, scratching his cheek."…What's gotten into him? Moody kid…"
For some reason, he had zero patience left to humor anyone. Not Garitch or even Nora.
He just wanted silence—isolation.
Tanaka closed the door behind him and sat at his desk. He pulled out his notebook and tried to write down what he'd learned from the church library.
His handwriting was unusually stiff.
He already knew the basics of all Magic.
Yang magic, and its simplest spell:
Jiwald.A ray of condensed light fired from the fingertip.Allowing the caster to deal a small burn to the skin… or blasting a hole clean through flesh, depending on the user's capabilities
He rubbed at his temples.
Yin and Yang magic—two sides of the least understood branch among the six elements.According to the forbidden tomes he'd once read in Roswaal's mansion, Yin represented shadow, Yang represented light.
They were obscure and their functionalities were introduced within the debuffing/buffing framing.
Yin robbed the senses—Shamak—or reduced weight—Murak—even slowed perception like time itself thickened.
Yang, conversely, granted strength, filled bodies with vigor, or burned through matter with raw, unrestrained force.
Thematically, then, Yang magic appears to deal in effects that involve imparting energy onto objects and/or people, either by buffing allies, strengthening materials, or burning people up. Yin magic, by contrast, saps energy, robbing people of their ability to see, reducing the mass of objects, and slowing time.
And yet—
Yang magic was barely used. Not because it was weak, but because it consumed mana at a monstrous rate.
Mana, the atmospheric energy sustaining life.
Od is one's life energy, it's a pure form of energy but it serves the role of organ within one's body to be able to draw mana from the atmosphere.
Water affinity strengthened one's understanding of mana.Yang affinity strengthened one's understanding of Od.
He paused in his writing as a strange heat crawled up his neck.
His face felt hot. His breathing shallow.
"In other words," he muttered in his thoughts, "trying to experiment with it right now is basically suicide."
Yin, water, fire, earth—none of those demanded direct mana conversion. They manipulated or reshaped existing elements.
But Yang… Yang required turning mana into pure energy.
The heat in his body intensified.
Tanaka swallowed, trying to steady his breath—but it only quickened. His chest tightened, his pulse racing like it was trying to tear itself out of his veins.
He frowned, crossing to the window. The latch clicked, and he pushed it open, letting in the cool evening breeze.
He couldn't think straight.
His body ached faintly, heat lingering beneath his skin. Not pain—just… discomfort.
Tanaka rubbed his forehead, exhaled, and finally climbed onto the bed.
"…Sleep," he mouthed silently.
He lifted his mask, if only to breathe easier. The air felt thick, heavy, suffocating.
He stripped off his clothes out of pure instinct, gasping for air, but the room felt like it was closing in—pressing, choking, smothering.
The atmosphere pulsed around him, a pressure he couldn't fight.
His breathing turned ragged.
Then—
A sharp sensation—like invisible jaws clamping shut—
And his body dropped.
Headless.
What was left of him crumpled to the floor with a wet thud, blood spreading across the wooden boards in a dark, silent room.