Our Goddess Is Truly So Holy

Feeling the faint magic within the scroll in his hand, Thomas was beside himself with excitement.

Why was it that even in Haluar, where tens of thousands of mages were registered, spellcasters remained so valuable that an ordinary four-person low-level adventuring party might not encounter even one?

It was hardly surprising. Mage apprentices could stay home and make a comfortable living just by copying scrolls, so why would they go out and risk life and limb alongside a bunch of martial classes, trading an almost fifty-percent mortality rate for unstable returns?

But a party really could not do without a spellcaster. Setting aside everything else, without large-area attack spells, there was simply no way to clear out swarms of monsters rushing in together.

Whether low-level adventurers or monsters, most dealt with enemies one slash at a time. But with a mage, a single Flame Hand could force those monsters back or even severely wound them. They were unquestionably the tactical core.

Without a spellcaster, if four people wanted to deal with a medium-sized lair containing thirty goblins, then unless their stealth was good enough to avoid drawing a group attack, and unless several members had Darkvision to find favorable terrain, they would inevitably be outnumbered. In such circumstances, injuries came easily.

As soon as one person was seriously injured and forced out of combat, reducing the party's numbers, the offensive and defensive balance of the entire four-person team would be shattered. Without a trump card to turn things around, a total party wipe would be imminent.

Not to mention highly tactical spells such as Grease and Darkness. One precise casting could change the course of battle and decide the outcome in a single stroke.

That gave mages an exalted position within adventuring parties. They did not need to stand watch while sleeping, got first pick of loot, could influence the captain's decisions, and more.

Even so, if a party had no money, recruiting a mage was still extremely difficult. Low-level adventuring parties in particular had neither the money nor the ability to guarantee a mage's safety. Under such circumstances, using magic scrolls became the best option.

Although not everyone could use scrolls, magic was relatively widespread in Haluar. Many adventurers, even if they were not mages, had learned one or two cantrips in their youth, so using low-level magical items and scrolls was not a problem.

Back at the tavern, Thomas handed the scroll to the worried-looking woman at his table. After carefully stroking it, she said softly, "It's genuine."

"See? I told you this would work out. Around the academy, how could there be as many people selling fakes as elsewhere?" Thomas's face lit up with excitement. "A Flame Hand normally costs eleven gold. This saves us four gold outright. If we spend carefully, that's enough for us to eat for a month. And he said that if we're still here next week, he can sell us more."

"People here really are easy to talk to. Still, it's best if we can save money. Otherwise, we'd barely make anything from this job." The woman put away the scroll. "So, do we leave now?"

"Yeah. I'll go round up the others and buy some more rations and water. Let's survey the place within the next couple of days, fight a good battle together, and celebrate properly afterward."

While that party set off, Du Pont returned to the academy.

He had originally planned to continue researching Magic Missile, but Thomas's words had left him restless today, making it impossible to focus on his studies.

No wonder everyone in the academy said that four gold for a finished scroll was already a great deal. Sold in bulk, they could fetch five gold apiece. Yet outside the academy, they could sell for nine gold, or even more.

He had thought that handing over thirty thousand copper a week as an apprentice was already outrageous. The actual figure was nearly one hundred thousand!

Four hundred thousand was being skimmed off every month. Wasn't that downright infuriating?!

He had long known that mages themselves were money-printing machines, but the reality still shocked Du Pont deeply.

No wonder a natural paladin prospect like him had been sent here at such a high price to become a mage. We mages really were above everyone else—the absolute masters!

He had only secretly sold two scrolls, yet his savings had already reached twenty-one gold and eight silver. He also still had six scrolls and eight sheets of parchment on him. If he worked hard next week, practiced magic, and improved his physical condition, then he should have no trouble keeping himself safe when he went dungeon-delving.

But when he thought of how all his hard work would be exploited, Du Pont gritted his teeth in hatred again.

No wonder the academy did not care about its apprentices and pushed them so hard to learn scroll-copying. This really brought in money.

The academy alone had around three hundred apprentices. Even if everyone only produced ten first-circle scrolls per week, the net profit after subtracting parchment costs would be twenty-seven million copper!

Of course, the lowest-ranked Level 1 apprentices did not have to do this work. But one should not forget that at Level 3, they had to copy second-circle scrolls, which sold for even more. Averaged out, the profits might be much higher than this.

In other words, even if the academy relied on scrolls alone, simply exploiting its apprentices could bring it profits of over a hundred million every month!

At that thought, Du Pont truly wished he were the Dean of this academy. This was practically making money while lying down. The biggest expenses were probably just taxes paid to the council and the Mentor's wages.

Even a no-cost business like bar hostesses required enough service-mindedness to keep smiling while old men groped them.

But when he remembered that he was the one being exploited, that the scrolls he copied by spending Experience Points and wasting time were merely adding to that dog Dean Lavoisier's wealth, Du Pont became utterly fed up. The very thought made him sick to his stomach.

Fuck it, I don't want to do this anymore. I'm packing up and leaving. I want control over my own life!

Yet when he saw the academy gates, Du Pont gradually calmed down.

You were a veteran construction worker. You should have gotten used to this sort of thing by now.

He was still a little too weak. The most rational course was to build up his credentials as he had in his previous life, then look for an opportunity to change jobs once the conditions were right.

After finally calming himself, Du Pont copied another scroll in succession, then meditated again and began practicing Magic Missile.

He had to graduate as quickly as possible and become a formal mage.

Once he became a Level 5 mage, he would no longer have to endure the academy's exploitation. Even if he did not take a post in the academy or the council, he only needed to report to the capital once a year to receive a considerable special allowance and fleece Haluar for all it was worth.

26 days remaining until you repay your loan

"Mystra, holy and beautiful, the light of wisdom, enfolds~ you~"

"Our hearts are filled with passion, as we enter your~ temple~"

The roar of the pipe organ spilled through the gaps in the stained glass of the rose window. A young woman in a pure white cleric's robe, with long silver-white hair and a gentle expression, held a censer as she conducted the rhythm before the crowd. The apprentices, dressed in pale blue robes, stood in formation along the stairs and sang hymns praising The Lady of Magic. The musicians kept their eyes shut, their expressions solemn. Sacred hymns echoed again and again through the magnificent, spacious temple, stirring the soul.

Du Pont, who had risen early, was among them. He tried hard to keep a straight face as he sang the hymn praising the goddess with everyone else, unable to stop his thoughts from wandering.

The current Lady of Magic was the second-generation goddess Mystra. If Du Pont remembered correctly, she was a legendary slut on par with Sune, the goddess of love. She had countless male lovers and piles of illegitimate children. Her lovers included Chosen, believers, daughters, her daughters' husbands, her daughters' sons, and so on.

She was an absolute champion among loose women—the kind of top-tier female lead who would dominate a romance novel in his previous life.

The only ones in the multiverse with even messier sex lives were probably those elven Gods who could change genders at will and enjoy female-led relationships.

Still, it was hardly strange. The second Lady of Magic was said to have originally been nothing more than an ordinary shepherdess. Because the first Lady of Magic had died unexpectedly, she became the new vessel for the powerful divine portfolios of magic, the Weave, and spells, gaining immense divine power in one stroke.

Going from an ordinary person to one of the most powerful Gods in the world was countless dimensions more outrageous than a poor boy suddenly becoming a nouveau riche. So the goddess's willfulness and promiscuity were not difficult to understand. If he were honest with himself, if he had suddenly encountered such a stroke of fortune, he probably would not have been much better than Mystra.

So what if she had a messy sex life? At most, people could only think about it privately. Whoever dared say it aloud—just watch and see whether I strike you down with divine punishment.

Besides, creating a new body was no big deal for a God. By modern standards, it could probably count as ninety-nine percent new.