The Banished Incompetent Mage Achieves Revenge with His True Power
He was the decoy. The baggage. The "incompetent" Rank One.
For three years, Kyle endured it all—the mockery, the beatings, the times his party tied him up and left him to die as bait. In the Kingdom of Regnica, your talent crest decides your worth, and his was the faintest of them all. So he swallowed his rage, smiled, and survived.
But when his party abandons him in the depths of a dungeon one last time, something inside Kyle finally snaps—and a power he never knew he had awakens. A power the
The Banished Incompetent Mage Achieves Revenge with His True Power - The Smile of the Poisoned Cup — With Hands That Could Not Protect
Morning light spilled through the inn's window.
Kyle woke on his bed. For a while he simply stared at the grain of the wooden ceiling, unfocused. The weight that had sat in his chest until yesterday felt a little lighter now.
(Today, too — I'll look for work.)
That he could think so at all struck him as strange. Since his banishment, the number of mornings he'd woken without dreading the day could still be counted on one hand.
In the next bed, Lizette was still asleep. Her chestnut braid spread across the pillow, and her breathing came slow and even. The old scar at her right temple stood out pale in the morning light. The cuffs of her healer's robes were faintly stained with herb juice again, just as they'd been yesterday.
Kyle rose quietly and looked out the window.
The town of Tarva was bustling today as always. Built along a tributary of the Ash River, the trading town came alive in the morning market. Fruit stalls, dried fish, bolts of cloth, shards of magic stone. The merchants' calls shook the air.
(In this town, for the first time, I was paid under my own name.)
He'd saved a child, delivered herbs, repaired a bridge. The townsfolk had bowed their heads to him.
(And that alone was enough.)
Kyle looked at his left hand. The old burn scar that lingered on his palm — proof of three years spent as bait.
"Good morning, Kyle."
He turned. Lizette had sat up, her big brown eyes still sleepy as she looked his way.
"...Yeah. Morning."
That was all Kyle said before stepping away from the window.
"Shall we go to the adventurers' guild again today? The receptionist said yesterday that a few small jobs were still open."
"...Right."
Lizette smiled, soft and warm.
Every time he saw that smile, Kyle felt something deep in his chest grow a little warmer.
(I want to protect that smile.)
That was what he felt. And at the same time—
(I couldn't possibly protect anyone.)
Kyle touched the back of his neck. The faint, faded trace of a crest. When he traced it with his fingertip, he could feel the slightest unevenness.
(My crest bears the lowest number.)
In the Kingdom of Regnica, every person was born with a "crest of talent" etched into their skin. The pattern showed the capacity of one's magic vessel, and its density decided everything in a person's life. Hold Kyle's crest up to a crest-meter, and it read "one." The lowest number there was.
(That's why they threw me away.)
That was all there was to it.
——
In the center of Tarva, at the branch office of the adventurers' guild known as the Arcas Alliance.
When Kyle and Lizette stepped through the guild's doors, the air inside shifted. A few adventurers glanced at the faint crest on Kyle's neck, then quickly looked away.
(Same as always.)
Kyle pretended not to notice and headed for the reception counter.
Behind the counter stood Milene, the branch head. A red-haired woman in her mid-thirties. When she saw Kyle's face, her brow moved, just slightly.
"Good morning, Milene."
Lizette greeted her brightly.
"Ah, Lizette. And Kyle, too."
Milene looked straight at Kyle.
"I hear you handled yesterday's bridge repairs rather well. The merchants were saying there's a fellow with a thin crest who's oddly reliable."
"...Don't worry about it."
Kyle answered with his eyes lowered.
"Hmph. Nothing to be bashful about. So, what'll it be today? We've still got a few small jobs left."
Milene pointed to the stack of request forms on the counter.
That was when it happened.
The guild's door opened, quietly.
The woman who entered had long silver ringlets swaying around her. Narrow violet eyes. A deep, dark crest gleamed at her left collarbone. Her lips wore a perpetual faint smile — a smile in which only her eyes did not join.
Seraphina.
Kyle's body went rigid.
(Why is she here?)
When Seraphina spotted Kyle and Lizette, she approached them slowly.
"Oh my, Kyle. And Lizette. It's been so long."
A honeyed voice. The same tone she always used — praise wrapped around a thorn.
"Seraphina... what are you doing here?"
Lizette's voice had gone stiff with tension.
"What do you mean, what am I doing? I'm an adventurer too, you know. I merely came to post a request."
Seraphina laid a single request form on the reception counter.
"I'd like an escort for gathering herbs that grow on the third floor of the labyrinth called the Throat of the Abyss. I'd like to name my escorts, if I may."
Milene picked up the form.
"The third floor of the Throat of the Abyss... the recommended crest level is five or above. Who are you naming as escorts?"
"Kyle and Lizette."
Seraphina said it clearly, her smile never wavering.
A stir ran through the guild.
Kyle's crest was one. Naming a man with a crest of one as an escort for a labyrinth rated five or above was sheer madness.
"...What are you playing at?"
Kyle asked quietly, without raising his voice.
"Playing at? Why, before you were banished, Kyle, you served as bait in that very labyrinth for three whole years, didn't you? You must know the Throat of the Abyss better than anyone. And Lizette is an excellent healer. I have great faith in her healing skills."
Seraphina smiled toward Lizette.
"Lizette, I need your recovery magic. Won't you lend me your strength?"
Lizette bit her lip.
Behind Seraphina's smile, Kyle sensed something cold and churning.
(This woman is plotting something.)
Kyle looked down at the request form.
"Escort for gathering moonlit grass on the third floor of the labyrinth 'Throat of the Abyss.' Reward: thirty silver coins. Meeting place: the abandoned house at the edge of town."
Moonlit grass. An herb that grew on the third floor and glowed faintly at night. Prized as an ingredient for antidotes.
(If it's moonlit grass, it's deep even for the third floor. Far too dangerous.)
Kyle was about to refuse.
"I'll go."
Lizette spoke first.
Kyle looked at her.
"If my recovery magic is needed, I'll go. Moonlit grass is needed for antidotes. If it can save someone's life."
Lizette's eyes were unwavering.
(This girl, again.)
Kyle had watched Lizette's stubbornness for three years. Once she decided something, she never bent. She always put herself last for someone else's sake.
"Thank you, Lizette. Then Kyle, you're fine with this as well, aren't you?"
Seraphina's violet eyes caught Kyle.
Kyle saw what lay behind Seraphina's smile.
(If I refuse, Lizette will go alone.)
(That, I can't allow.)
"...Fine. I'll go."
Kyle answered shortly.
Seraphina smiled, satisfied.
"Then I'll be waiting at the abandoned house at the edge of town tomorrow morning. Today I'd like to scout the request, so let's meet once at the house this evening. I'll treat you to some herbal tea."
With that, Seraphina left the guild with elegant strides.
——
After leaving the guild, Kyle and Lizette walked through the town.
"Kyle, I'm sorry. I went and accepted it on my own."
Lizette spoke apologetically.
"...Don't worry about it. If you're going, I'm going."
That was Kyle's answer.
"...Thank you."
Lizette smiled, relieved.
Kyle was thinking about the evening meeting.
(Seraphina went out of her way to name us.)
(Something's going on. No doubt about it.)
Kyle looked at Lizette's smile.
(But I can't let this girl go alone.)
Kyle clenched his fist.
——
Evening.
Kyle and Lizette were on their way to the abandoned house at the edge of town.
The clamor of the town fell away behind them, and the road grew steadily narrower. The surrounding houses thinned out, until at last they came to an open lot overgrown with weeds.
"...There it is."
Kyle pointed to the abandoned house ahead.
An old stone building. Part of the roof had collapsed, and every window was shattered. The front door was half rotted away.
"What a creepy place."
Lizette lightly caught hold of Kyle's sleeve.
Kyle pushed the door open.
It creaked on its hinges.
Inside it was dim, and the smell of mold and dust stung his nose. The floor was bare earth, weeds sprouting here and there. Ivy crawled along the walls, and dust sifted down from the ceiling.
In the center of the room stood Seraphina.
Her silver ringlets seemed to glow faintly in the gloom.
"Welcome, both of you. How good of you to come."
Seraphina greeted them with a smile.
In a corner of the room, a small fire had been prepared. A little iron kettle hung over the flames. Steam rose, carrying the scent of herbs.
"Come, over here. I've just brewed some herbal tea. Let's warm ourselves a little before we scout the request."
Seraphina poured the tea into wooden bowls.
"This is linden-leaf tea, gathered from the forest north of Tarva. It's good for fatigue."
Seraphina held out two bowls.
Lizette took hers and checked the aroma. As a healer, she knew her herbs.
"Linden leaf... the scent is right, it seems. And there's a faint sweetness mixed in. Honey, perhaps?"
"Yes, I added just a little honey. It goes down easier that way."
Lizette brought the bowl to her lips.
Kyle took his own bowl but did not drink.
(As if I could drink tea this woman poured.)
Kyle kept watching Lizette.
Lizette took a sip and smiled.
"It's delicious. It warms me up."
"I'm glad. Do drink plenty."
Seraphina elegantly drank her own tea.
Several minutes passed.
Lizette's fingertips began to tremble.
"...Huh?"
Lizette looked at her hand. Her fingers were shaking in small, rapid spasms.
"Kyle, something's... my body..."
Lizette's face went pale before his eyes.
"My throat... it's burning..."
Lizette clutched at her throat.
The next moment, blood spilled from Lizette's mouth.
"—gh."
Lizette crumpled to the floor.
"Lizette!"
Kyle rushed over and caught her in his arms.
Lizette's body was burning hot. Her lips had turned purple, and her eyes stared blankly.
"...Lizette, Lizette!"
Kyle held his hand over Lizette's body and chanted a recovery spell.
But nothing happened.
The surface of Lizette's body repelled the light of the healing magic. The wound would not close. The poison would not be purified.
(Why? The healing isn't working.)
Kyle poured in his magic once more.
It was useless.
"It's no use."
Seraphina's voice came from behind him.
He turned. Seraphina stood by the fire. Her silver ringlets swayed eerily in the firelight.
"That poison is compounded to reverse the flow of a healer's crest. The more recovery magic you use, the deeper the poison spreads."
Seraphina was smiling.
Still smiling — only her eyes did not smile.
"Lizette's healing crest no longer functions. Right now, that girl is in the same state as having poison poured directly into her own magic."
"...What did you do?"
Kyle asked quietly, without raising his voice.
"What did I do? I merely put poison in the tea. Hiding the scent of a poison herb beneath the scent of linden leaf isn't difficult at all. A healer would be fooled by the linden scent and never notice the poison herb. That's how it's compounded."
Seraphina peered into Kyle's face and went on.
"Kyle. If you want to save that girl, give me your crest."
Kyle's body froze.
"Hand over the seal crest on the back of your neck. Do that, and I'll be so good as to give you the antidote."
Still smiling, Seraphina let her gaze crawl along the back of Kyle's neck.
"...Seal crest?"
Still holding Lizette, Kyle looked up at Seraphina.
"Oh my, you didn't know? That faint crest trace on your neck — that's no ordinary crest mark. It's the trace of a seal crest placed on you by the Royal Court Magical Institute."
Seraphina began to walk slowly around Kyle.
"Your true crest is sealed. That's why the crest-meter reads 'one.' But in truth, you bear a far denser crest. Isn't that right?"
Kyle couldn't say a word.
(My crest is sealed.)
(So I'm not truly incompetent.)
(Then what were those three years of humiliation?)
Something spun round and round inside Kyle's head.
"Just hand it over obediently, the way you did when you served as bait in the labyrinth. Do that, and this g
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