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 Night the Crest Is Bestowed — When the Seal Shatters
The forest at night was still deep.
In front of the Tower of Seals, cold air wrapped around Kyle's body where it lay collapsed on the dirt. His hair, a deep navy so dark it was nearly black, was soiled with mud. His gray eyes were half-open, reflecting nothing. His patchwork mage's robe, scorched by the activation of the seal crest, was torn in a dozen places.
He couldn't feel his fingertips anymore.
Warmth was draining from his hands and feet, as though his body were dissolving into the soil. Deep in his ears, Gale's shrill laughter still echoed. Seraphina's smile was seared onto the back of his eyelids.
(So this is it.)
(I'm truly useless now.)
He murmured it inside his mind. It never became a voice. His throat was stuck fast; even breathing felt heavy.
(Lizette is safe.)
(That's enough.)
(That should be enough.)
He tried to believe it. But somewhere deeper in his chest, something was quietly screaming.
(No.)
(I was never useless.)
(My crest was never thin.)
(My power was sealed away.)
(And now that power is truly gone.)
(By Gale's hand.)
(In front of Seraphina's smile.)
Tears spilled from Kyle's eyes. Without a sound, silently, only tears tracing down his cheeks and falling to the dirt.
—That was when it happened.
"Kyle!"
A shout. A hoarse, anguished voice.
Footsteps on the dirt. Stumbling, something drew near. Chestnut braids swayed in the darkness of the night. Huge brown eyes, wet with tears. Her healer's vestments were stained with mud and herb juice, the cuffs torn. The old scar at her right temple floated white in the moonlight.
It was Lizette.
The aftereffects of the antidote left her unsteady on her feet. Even so, she dropped to her knees beside Kyle as though collapsing.
"Kyle... Kyle!"
Lizette's trembling hand touched Kyle's cheek. It was warm. That warmth seeped into his half-frozen skin.
"...Lizette."
Kyle's lips moved faintly. His voice could barely stir the air.
"Thank goodness... you woke up. I—I saw you collapsed, and... I thought my heart would stop."
Lizette's tears fell onto Kyle's cheek. Warm. That warmth alone was what tethered him to reality.
"...Lizette. Your body—are you—"
"I'm fine. The antidote's done its work. More importantly, Kyle—your body... your crest... it's nowhere. Nowhere at all..."
Lizette's fingers traced the side of Kyle's neck.
There was nothing there.
The faint trace of a crest that had surely been there for three years—the subtle ridges that had run from his neck to his collarbone—had vanished cleanly.
"Kyle... did you give up your crest—all of it—for me?"
Kyle didn't answer. He didn't have the strength left to answer.
Lizette's fingertips traced his neck again and again, as if confirming the trace of the vanished crest.
(This man, for my sake—)
(He gave up everything he had.)
Deep in Lizette's chest, something pulsed violently.
(Because I collapsed from poison.)
(Because I was weak.)
(This man lost all of his power.)
Lizette bit her lip. She tasted blood.
(No.)
(I have to protect him.)
(This time, it's my turn to protect him.)
Lizette's fingertips stopped dead at a single point on Kyle's neck.
Beneath the moonlight, a faint mark surfaced on Kyle's skin.
The trace of a seal.
The design of the Royal Court Magical Institute.
An intricate pattern of spirals and straight lines. It remained on Kyle's neck, white as a brand that would not fade.
"This... the Royal Court Magical Institute's seal mark..."
Lizette held her breath.
Her knowledge as a healer told her what that mark meant.
(This mark isn't just any seal.)
(It's proof that the Royal Court Magical Institute formally sealed this man's crest.)
(Why would Kyle have something like this?)
Questions churned in Lizette's mind.
(Kyle was said to measure "one" on the crest meter—the lowest possible crest.)
(But would the Royal Court Magical Institute bother to seal someone like that?)
(They'd never brand an ordinary incompetent adventurer with a thin crest like this.)
Lizette looked at Kyle's face.
His gray eyes stared emptily at the sky. Reflecting nothing. Saying nothing.
"Kyle... who in the world are you? Why is there a Royal Court Magical Institute seal on your neck...?"
Kyle didn't answer.
He couldn't answer.
(Who am I?)
(Who am I really?)
Even Kyle himself didn't know.
Lizette stared at Kyle's face for a while.
Then, slowly, she shook her head.
"...No. That can wait."
Lizette gently lifted Kyle's body.
Kyle's body was astonishingly light. Nothing but skin and bone, his muscles wasted away. A body used up as a decoy for three years. A body given scarcely any food, whose healing magic had always been put last.
(To think this body survived this long.)
(And with this body, he tried to protect me.)
Lizette's chest ached as though being wrung tight.
"Kyle. I'm going to share my crest with you now."
Lizette's voice wasn't trembling.
Kyle's eyes moved faintly.
"...Lizette. What are you saying?"
"A healer's crest is thin. It's no good for combat or attack magic. But there's one thing no one else can imitate."
Lizette placed her hand over her own chest.
"A healer's crest can be shared with others. You can shave away your own life to connect another person's life. That's the healer's one and only power."
"...Stop. If you shave your crest, your lifespan—"
Kyle's voice was hoarse.
"I know. Shaving a crest shortens your lifespan. They say a healer's crest drains so heavily it cuts your life short. ...But even so."
Lizette took Kyle's hand.
"Kyle. You gave up your entire crest for me. You lost all of your power in exchange for my life. ...So this time, it's my turn."
Lizette's eyes gazed straight at Kyle.
Her large brown eyes, moist with tears, held a strong will.
"...Lizette. You're serious about this?"
"I'm serious. Once I've decided something, I don't go back on it."
Lizette smiled.
"Kyle. You believed in me. Even when I collapsed from poison, you gave up everything you had to save me. ...So this time, it's my turn to believe in you. I'll share my crest with you. If I do, the seal inside you should break."
"...Why do you think that?"
"I can tell. A healer's intuition, I suppose you'd call it. The seal mark on your neck hasn't completely faded yet. The Royal Court Magical Institute's seals can sometimes be shattered from within if you channel strong magic into them from outside. ...My crest is thin, but when it comes to sharing it, I won't lose to anyone."
Lizette gently laid her palm against Kyle's neck.
Her warm palm pressed over the seal mark.
"Here I go. ...It might hurt a little. But please bear with it."
Lizette closed her eyes.
(I'll shave my crest.)
(I'll shave my life.)
(If it saves Kyle—)
(If it lets Kyle stand again—)
(I don't mind losing my life.)
Lizette's palm began to give off a faint light.
A warm, golden light. The healer's crest slowly rose from Lizette's chest.
The crest at Lizette's chest became motes of light, flowing into the seal mark on Kyle's neck.
"...Lizette, stop. Your crest will vanish."
"It's all right. Even if a crest is shaved, it comes back little by little. ...A healer's crest is made that way."
Lizette's voice was kind.
But her color was rapidly turning pale.
(That's a lie.)
(I've never heard of a healer's crest coming back after being shaved.)
Kyle screamed inside his mind.
(Lizette is giving me her own lifespan.)
(She's shaving away her life for me.)
Tears spilled from Kyle's eyes.
"...Lizette. Stop it already. Not for someone like me—"
"You're not 'someone like me,' Kyle. Kyle, you're the person I believed in. The person I want to protect."
From Lizette's palm, the light poured in even stronger.
The seal mark on Kyle's neck drank in that light.
The mark was hot.
Burning hot.
"...Ngh."
Kyle's body convulsed.
The seal mark groaned from within.
(Something's coming.)
(Deep inside me, something is starting to move.)
Deep in Kyle's chest, something that had been stoppered up began to crack with a sound.
"Kyle! Take it as it comes! I'm striking your seal with my crest!"
Lizette shouted.
In that instant.
From Lizette's palm, golden light exploded.
The light drove deep, deep into the seal mark on Kyle's neck.
—Crack.
Something shattered.
Inside Kyle's body, the seal crest broke apart.
(Ah.)
(This is—)
(This is what was inside me all along.)
From deep in Kyle's chest, magic surged upward.
Enormous magic that had been stoppered up for three years—no, for far longer than that.
It was released all at once.
"Whoa!"
Lizette's body was blown backward.
The wave of magic overflowing from Kyle's body shook the surrounding air violently.
The ground trembled.
The withered trees around the tower burst into bud all at once.
From branches long dead and brown, fresh green leaves unfurled one after another.
Cracks raced across the stone paving.
Kyle's magic crawled along the ground, splitting stone, tilling soil, awakening life.
"...Ah, aaaaah!"
Kyle screamed.
Magic raced through his entire body.
Hot.
Painful.
But it felt good.
What had been sealed away was returning into his body.
(This is my power.)
(This is my crest.)
(I was never useless.)
Kyle planted his hands on the ground and slowly rose to his feet.
His legs shook.
His body still wouldn't obey him.
But he could stand.
By his own will, he could stand.
The man who for three years had been used up as a decoy, made into a truly useless man, now stood on his own two feet.
"Kyle..."
Lizette, still collapsed on the ground, was looking up at him.
Her face was white as paper.
In exchange for shaving her crest, her stamina and her life force had been heavily drained.
Even so, Lizette smiled.
"Thank goodness... You stood up, Kyle. ...Thank goodness."
Lizette's smile looked ready to vanish at any moment.
Kyle staggered to her side.
"...Lizette."
Kyle took Lizette's hand.
Lizette's hand was cold.
It had been so warm just moments ago.
"...Thank you."
Kyle's voice was trembling.
"...You're welcome, Kyle. After all, you're my savior."
Lizette squeezed his hand back.
It was a feeble strength.
But the warmth was still there, unmistakably.
"...Lizette. I'm going to Gale now."
Kyle said it quietly.
"...What?"
Lizette's eyes went wide.
"I'm going to throw the record of the three years I was used as a decoy in Gale's and Seraphina's faces. The request forms, the maps of the places I was abandoned, the traces of you healing me every single time—I'll have it all."
Kyle's voice was matter-of-fact.
He wasn't shaking with rage, nor burning for revenge.
He was simply calm.
"...But Kyle. Gale is a swordsman. Seraphina is a mage with a dense crest. In your current state, even if you fought them head-on—"
"I won't fight. I won't attack at all. What I'm going to do is slam the records down at the guild reception. That's all."
Kyle gripped Lizette's hand firmly.
"Gale will laugh and say no one would believe a word from someone with a weak crest. But with records, it's a different story. The decoy role written into the request forms. The maps of where I was abandoned. And the traces of your healing. ...The evidence is all here."
Kyle's gray eyes stared straight into the darkness of the night.
"...Kyle. You're a strong person."
Lizette smiled.
"I'm so glad I believed in you."
Lizette's voice was faintly trembling.
Kyle gently let go of her hand.
"Lizette. You rest here. I'll go finish this."
"No. I'm coming too. I'm a healer. I'll stay by your side so I can heal you the moment anything happens."
Lizette staggered to her feet.
Her footing was unsteady.
Kyle supported her shoulder.
"...Don't push yourself."
"I'm not pushing myself. I'm going with you, Kyle. ...Let's go. To the town of Tarva."
Lizette's eyes, in her still-pale face, shone with strength.
Kyle gave a small nod.
With the Tower of Seals at their backs, the two of them set off walking toward the town of Tarva.
The forest before dawn
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