The goddess Ruche never fails. For two hundred and fifty years, she has summoned heroes to protect Asterant with flawless precision—until the day the ritual shatters, dragging through an utterly ordinary high school boy named Ryou instead of a chosen champion. No sword. No sacred blessing. No grand destiny. Just a deck of playing cards, a scarf, and an Authority that turns out to be... sleight of hand.
Stripped of eighty percent of her divine power as punishment and banished to the mortal realm
The Fallen Goddess and the Magician - The Magician Abandoned in the City — Sang's Betrayal and Gareth's Rule
The air in Riverside Market had unmistakably changed.
Morning light spilled across the cobblestones just as it always did. The breeze off the Tran River carried the same familiar scents, and the warm aroma drifting from the bakery was no different.
And yet, something was wrong.
Ryou stood in the center of the plaza and pulled a deck of cards from his pocket. Worn smooth at the corners, frayed from use—the only possession he'd brought from his old world.
"...Let's get started."
His voice came out smaller than he'd expected.
For two weeks, he'd performed magic tricks in this spot. What began with three spectators had grown to dozens. Children's eyes had lit up, women had cheered, men had grunted in impressed approval.
But today—
People passing through the plaza averted their eyes the moment they saw him. They quickened their pace. As if what stood there was something they weren't supposed to see.
(Something's off.)
Ryou fanned the cards into an arc. The feel of paper against his palm. Normally, this moment brought a natural smile to his face.
"Come one, come all! Today's show is about to begin!"
He raised his voice. But no one stopped.
A merchant glanced his way, then hurriedly ducked into the back of his shop.
"...Huh?"
Something cold spread through his chest.
――――――――――――――――――――
It had happened three days ago.
Gareth had gathered the men in the plaza.
The power brokers of Riverside Market. Shop owners, road haulers, former mercenaries with rough edges. Nearly thirty men, all summoned before Gareth.
Ryou had watched from the shadows at the edge of the square.
"Listen up, all of you."
Gareth's voice was low, carrying to every corner of the plaza.
"Who's the strongest man in this town?"
No one answered.
Gareth slowly scanned the faces before him. His short brown hair was still sleep-tousled. His narrow eyes moved with a slow, predatory patience.
"Answer me."
"...Y-you, sir, I suppose."
One man answered, his voice trembling.
Gareth's mouth twisted. Whether it was a smile or a scowl, impossible to tell.
"That's right. Me."
Gareth raised his right arm. The bracelet on his wrist caught the morning light with a dull gleam.
"This bracelet amplifies my Authority. The Bracelet of the Strongarm King. With this, no one can beat me."
Authority. The special power granted to otherworlders. Ryou had been given "Magic Tricks." Gareth had been given "Strongarm King"—the highest-tier Authority of brute strength.
"Starting today, this town has a new law."
Gareth stomped on a wooden crate in the center of the plaza.
The crack of splintering wood echoed across the square.
"The Law of the Strongarm. Those with power decide everything."
A murmur rippled through the men.
"In three weeks, I'm holding a fighting tournament. The winner—and only the winner—gets the right to use the trade roads. Losers... lose the right to do business in this town."
"Th-that's outrageous...!"
The one who spoke up was the owner of the largest textile shop in the market.
Gareth's narrow eyes fixed on him.
"What'd you just say?"
"N-no, but... the trade rights are managed by the merchants' guild..."
"The merchants' guild?"
Gareth walked slowly toward the man.
"Is this merchants' guild of yours stronger than me?"
"Th-that's not a question of strength..."
"It's exactly a question of strength."
Gareth's right hand seized the man by the collar.
"This world runs on power. It's because spineless bastards like you run your mouths that this town rots."
――Thud.
Gareth hurled the man.
His body flew about ten feet before slamming into the cobblestones.
"Gwaaah!"
"Where's your shop?"
"P-please, stop..."
"I asked where your shop is."
With a trembling finger, the man pointed toward the north side of the market.
Gareth started walking in that direction.
"Oi, watch closely. All of you—burn this into your eyes."
Ryou followed after Gareth.
――――――――――――――――――――
The textile shop stood on the north street of the market.
A red signboard with a golden thread emblem. The oldest established shop in town.
Gareth stood before it, and without turning around, spoke.
"This is what happens to those who defy me."
Gareth raised his right arm.
The bracelet glowed red-hot.
"――ORAAAH!"
His fist drove into the shop's pillar.
――DOGOOOON!!!
The pillar snapped. The roof tilted. The walls crumbled.
Dust billowed up, wooden splinters flying everywhere.
"Hiii...!"
"My shop... my shop..."
The textile owner lay sprawled on the ground, staring blankly as his shop was reduced to half-rubble.
Gareth turned his back on the pile of debris and declared to the gathered men:
"This is the new reality of this town. Anyone who defies me—I'll crush their shop. I'll drive out their family. If you value your life, you'll do as I say."
Not a single man could move.
Ryou clenched his fists in the shadows.
(I have to stop this.)
His head understood that much.
(But how?)
Could magic tricks stop that fist?
The answer was painfully obvious.
――――――――――――――――――――
Three days passed.
The town transformed with alarming speed.
First, rumors of the tournament spread. Only the winner would earn trade rights on the roads. In other words, only those who obeyed Gareth could continue doing business.
Next, Gareth's henchmen began patrolling the market.
"Oi, old man. Have you paid your respects to Lord Gareth yet?"
"O-of course. Here, the wooden tag..."
More and more shops hung Gareth's wooden tags out front.
The tags read:
"One who abides by the Law of the Strongarm."
Shops without the tag found themselves utterly abandoned.
――――――――――――――――――――
Sang the informant was trembling in his hideout in the back alleys.
"Sang's Nest"—an old stone hut on a back street of Riverside Market. It served as his workplace as an informant, and also as the home where he lived entirely alone.
The door burst open.
"Yo, informant."
Two of Gareth's henchmen stepped inside.
"Wh-what do you want?"
Sang backed up behind his desk.
"Lord Gareth wants to see you. Come on."
"I-I don't know anything."
"Oh, you do. About that trickster. Plenty of things."
The color drained from Sang's face.
"Th-that guy... he's just a street performer."
"That's what we're asking. Who is he, what can he do—spill it all."
One of the henchmen grabbed Sang by the collar.
"P-please, stop... I have a family..."
"Family? Ah, yeah—your wife runs a general store behind the market, and you've got a little daughter, right?"
Sang's body went rigid.
"If you talk straight, we won't touch your family. That's what Lord Gareth says."
Sang bit his lip.
(Ryou... forgive me.)
He cursed inwardly.
"...I'll talk."
Sang's voice was hoarse.
"His Authority is just magic tricks. Combat ability: zero. He does street performances in the plaza at fixed times. That's all."
"That's all?"
"...Yeah. Really, that's all."
The henchmen exchanged glances and laughed.
"Just magic tricks, huh. Against Lord Gareth's fists, that's about as useful as a scrap of paper."
Sang hung his head.
His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms.
(I betrayed him.)
(That smile.)
――――――――――――――――――――
A few days later, Sang appeared in the plaza.
Ryou was standing by the fountain as usual. Almost no spectators remained. Even so, he kept shuffling his cards.
"...Sang."
When Ryou called out, Sang flinched.
"Hey... Ryou."
Sang wouldn't meet his eyes.
"I haven't seen you around lately. Is something wrong?"
"...Nah, nothing. Just been busy."
"I see. That's a relief. I was worried something had happened."
Ryou's voice was kind.
It cut straight through Sang's chest.
"...Ryou, I'm sorry."
"Huh?"
"Nah, forget it. See you around."
Sang turned and walked away.
His back was small and hunched.
Watching him go, Ryou felt something cold spreading through his chest.
(Sang... you're hiding something.)
They hadn't known each other long. But Sang had been one of the first to acknowledge Ryou's magic tricks.
From that retreating back, Ryou felt a clear, deliberate distance.
(I don't want to believe it, but...)
Ryou shook his head.
(I'm overthinking this.)
But that thought became reality soon enough.
――――――――――――――――――――
The changes in the market grew more severe by the day.
The children who used to laugh at his tricks were pulled away by their parents.
"Hey! Come here this instant!"
"But I wanna see the magic!"
"No! Daddy said we're not supposed to go near that man!"
The mother dragged her child away, walking briskly.
Ryou could only watch.
The women who used to watch his shows now averted their eyes as they passed through the plaza.
"Hey, is that guy going to be okay?"
"Shh, not so loud. If Lord Gareth glares at us, our shop is finished."
"But..."
"Let's go."
The two women turned their backs and walked away.
Ryou stopped shuffling.
(Ah. I see.)
(I can't make this town smile anymore.)
――――――――――――――――――――
Mina's bakery, "Mina's Wheat Field," stood on the south side of the market.
It was a small shop, but the smell of freshly baked bread always drifted from it, and Ryou loved that smell.
"Mina, you here?"
Standing in front of the shop, Ryou noticed something wrong.
A wooden tag hung at the entrance.
"One who abides by the Law of the Strongarm."
Ryou's chest tightened.
"...Ryou."
Mina emerged from the back of the shop.
A petite girl with brown curly hair in a braid. Her usually bright brown eyes were cast downward today.
"Mina, this..."
When Ryou pointed at the tag, Mina flinched.
"...My dad put it up. He said there was no other way to protect the shop."
"I... see."
"Ryou, I'm sorry. Our shop has nothing to do with this."
Mina's voice was shaking.
"Nothing to do with it..."
"So please, don't come here anymore. I'm begging you."
Mina said it without looking at his face.
Ryou started to say something, then stopped.
(Mina has to protect her family too.)
(It's only natural.)
"...I understand. Sorry for causing trouble."
Ryou tried to smile.
But the smile wouldn't come.
"Ryou... I..."
Mina started to say something.
"It's fine. Don't worry about it."
That was all he said before leaving the shop.
He felt Mina's gaze on his back.
But he didn't turn around.
If he turned around, something might break.
――――――――――――――――――――
In the evening, Ryou sat in a corner of the plaza.
A deck of cards in his hands.
Shff, shff, shff.
He shuffled.
But his fingers trembled, and the cards wouldn't cooperate.
One card fell to the ground.
"...Tch."
Ryou picked up the fallen card.
The Ace of Hearts.
(I was supposed to make people smile.)
(I was supposed to make them laugh with my tricks.)
(And yet—)
Ryou returned the card to the deck and started shuffling again.
Shff, shff, shff.
Trembling hands. Scattered cards.
"Pathetic."
Ruche was suddenly standing beside him.
Her long silver hair caught the twilight and glowed faintly. Her golden eyes were narrowed in their usual displeasure.
"You could just run, you know."
Ruche's voice was cold.
But deep in those eyes, something wavered.
"If I run, he'll only get stronger."
Ryou answered while shuffling.
"So what? Even if you face him head-on, you'll be crushed in a single blow. There's no way magic tricks can stop that fist."
"...I know."
"If you know, then why won't you run?"
"If I run, this town is finished. Mina, Sang—everyone will stay bound under his control."
"So what? It's none of your concern."
"It is my concern."
Ryou stopped shuffling.
"I started doing magic tricks in this town. I wanted to make the people here smile. That's how I fight."
Ruche was silent for a while.
The evening breeze stirred her silver hair.
"...You really are an idiot."
That was all she said before turning away.
"We're going back to the inn. Stop sitting around in a place like this."
"...Yeah."
Ryou tucked the cards into his breast pocket.
His hands were still trembling.
――――――――――――――――――――
Back at the inn, "The Golden Carp," the proprietress Martha greeted them with a worried face.
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