The Final Task of the Forsaken Saint: A Command to Marry the Barbarian Count - Chapter 19

That afternoon, I was in the training grounds, standing in front of an eager crowd of knights and soldiers, trying to calm my nerves.

A week ago, the soldiers were cautious, but today, they were full of enthusiasm, their eyes glowing with excitement.
How did this happen, you ask? Well, during lunch, Dirk had asked me to do this.

“Could you demonstrate your magic for us?”

“Magic? But I thought Rostock isn’t fond of it,” I had responded.

“Yes, the influence of spirit worship here is strong, but what they’ve never seen is magic used in combat. Your magic, the way you took down that wyvern, was quite shocking to them.”

“But it was just basic magic…”

“Even that is rare. In fact, many of the knights have requested to see your combat magic up close. I know it might be difficult, but could you give it a try?”

So here I was, standing before them as their impromptu magic instructor.

With Dirk beside me, the soldiers were relatively calm, but their intense gazes felt almost as if they were about to devour me. Creepy.

I had agreed to this out of gratitude for their hospitality, but teaching was never my strong suit. The basic magic lessons I had learned as a child were long gone, and my methods had always been criticized by court mages. But now, I was expected to show them.

Looking at the soldiers, I noticed a familiar face in the front row.

“Ah, Riddar. I see your suspension was lifted.”

Riddar, with his imposing physique, seemed surprised to be addressed but quickly flashed a smile.

“It was lifted yesterday! I wanted to see more of that magic you used on me! You never know when I might have to face a magician like you in the capital!”

His battle-hungry mindset was almost refreshing. I could picture my master finding him amusing but also probably giving him a good thrashing.

Now that I thought about it, knights in Rostock likely fought differently than those in the capital. That could mean their approach to magical beast hunting was also different…
Alright, let’s go with that.

“Alright, Lebel, the floor is yours,” Dirk said.

“Got it!” I responded, stepping forward.

Since I was dealing with soldiers, I thought I’d approach it military-style.

“I’m not great at teaching magic, so I thought I’d just explain how I hunted the wyvern here, step by step.”

A murmur ran through the soldiers, and I planted my staff on the ground. First, I needed to set the stage.

I infused magic into the crystal at the tip of my staff, and an orange light lit up the area. As I began casting a chant I hadn’t used in a while, the energy surged through me.

“Spirits of nature, who shine in the sky, enrich the earth, make the water flow, nurture fire, and cause trees to grow—gods of all creation, I ask for your mercy, grant me a fragment of your power.”

This chant was meant to summon the spirits around us.

Thanks to the week of connecting with them, dozens of spirits quickly appeared, buzzing around eagerly to see what I would do next.

This should work, I thought. But something was odd. The spirits seemed more solid than usual, almost visibly so. This was a good sign; spirits usually showed clearer forms when they were particularly excited.

And then I heard it.

“Is that… a spirit?”

The soldiers, now staring, were clearly surprised. Some even started bowing in reverence.

In Rymiest, spirits were seen as divine messengers sent by the Creator God, but outside of magic users, most people didn’t usually pay much attention to them.

But the soldiers were treating the spirits like revered entities.

I turned to Dirk, and it seemed like he understood my confusion.
“Rostock doesn’t rely on spirits,” he said. “That’s why they see them as ‘unceasing trials sent to Rostock.’ They believe the spirits are testing their strength to survive without them.”

“Ah, so the absence of spirits here is meant to help Rostock grow stronger without their aid?” I asked, understanding.

“Exactly. Calbruncs has many spirits, but it’s also full of magical beasts. The spirits watch over us, but we must face the beasts ourselves without relying on their power.”

Ah, that makes sense. No wonder people here are so wary of magic. They view it as depending on the spirits.

Looking at Dirk, I saw that his response to the spirits seemed casual. His respect for them was clear, but he wasn’t disturbed by their presence.

I realized that while I respected others’ beliefs, I wouldn’t change my connection with the spirits. I’d simply continue showing them my bond.

As the spirits eagerly circled around me, I smiled and addressed them.

“I want to make a cool, strong wyvern figure—will you help me?”
“Move?” one spirit asked.

“Play?” another chimed in.

They were excited, and I decided to give it my all.
“Then let’s create something wonderful. With borrowed power, I summon forth an Earth Golem!”

I directed my staff toward a pile of sandbags nearby. The spirits rushed to the bags and wrapped them in energy.

In no time, the sandbags transformed into a wyvern-like creature. The soldiers stiffened in their stances, and I could feel their attention intensify.

I stared at the sand wyvern with a smirk.

“You’ve seen me kill a wyvern, right?”

The sand wyvern let out a gravelly roar. It wasn’t a true roar—more like sand scraping against itself—but it was clear it was acknowledging my challenge.

“Good, now fight like that wyvern I killed. Try and take me down.”

With another roar, the spirit wyvern spread its wings and took off into the air. The soldiers watched in stunned silence as the creature soared overhead.