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 Goddess's Descent and the Back-Alley Magic Trick Room — An Infiltration Operation to Expose Gareth's Power
The alley still smelled of scorched paper.
Ryou stayed on his knees, staring at the wreckage of playing cards scattered across the ground. Blackened scraps, curled and shapeless. The only thing he'd brought from his old world. Gareth had ground them underfoot and set them alight.
His fingers were trembling.
"...My cards."
His voice came out cracked.
Footsteps approached slowly from the far end of the alley. Ryou lifted his head. Silver hair, translucent in the moonlight. It was Ruche.
"What are you doing in a place like this? Staying up late is bad for your skin, you know."
The usual venom. But her golden eyes were fixed on his hands.
"...You can see for yourself. Just—thinking."
Ryou picked up one of the charred scraps. The ash crumbled away between his fingertips.
"Did that bastard do this to you?"
"...Yeah."
Ruche snorted.
"Idiot. Walking right up to a man like that, face to face."
"I know."
"You don't know a thing. You're going to go back, aren't you. I can tell just by looking at your face."
Ryou said nothing.
Ruche crouched down beside him. Her disheveled silver hair slid off her shoulder. For just an instant, her body flickered—half-transparent. Proof that her divine power was running dangerously low.
"...Hey. Do you honestly think you can beat that man head-on?"
"...No. In raw strength, I don't stand a chance."
"Right. You can't win. That Strong-Arm King's Authority ranks at the very top by mortal-world standards. Sword or sorcery—take a direct hit and it's over in an instant."
Ryou clenched the scorched card in his fist.
"But that doesn't mean I can just do nothing."
"Huh? More of that goody-two-shoes justice complex? You really never learn, do you."
"It's not that. ...He's going to destroy Mina, the whole town, everything. Running away won't solve a thing."
Ruche narrowed her golden eyes.
"...You actually understand more than I gave you credit for."
"Is that a compliment?"
"It's not. I'm just stating a fact."
A night wind swept between them. The smell of the Tran River mingled with the stench of burnt paper.
Ruche studied Ryou's face for a while. Then, slowly, she spoke.
"...Crushing that man's power directly is impossible. But exposing the source of it—that, we might be able to do."
"The source of his power?"
"The bracelet on his arm. That thing isn't just a magical tool. It's different from anything I ever saw in the divine realm."
Ryou thought of Gareth's right arm. That bracelet, glowing red-hot.
"...So that bracelet is the secret to his strength?"
"Maybe. It's worth finding out."
"But how? Getting close to his base would be suicide."
Ruche gave a faint smile.
"What do you think your magic tricks are for?"
"A trick is a trick. It's useless in a fight."
"Idiot. Magic is the art of deceiving people. The art of making a lie look like truth. Your tricks are perfect for fooling people."
Ryou's eyes went wide.
"...So what you're saying is—"
"I'll use what's left of my divine power to disguise our appearance. Your tricks will handle the finer deceptions. Together, we slip into his base."
Ryou mulled it over.
Far too dangerous. But Ruche was right. If he couldn't fight head-on, gathering information was the only option.
"...All right. Let's do it."
Ryou tucked the scorched playing cards into his breast pocket.
"Oh, an instant answer? You're recklessly fearless to a fault."
"You're the one who suggested it."
"I did. ...Well, fine. Seems you've made up your mind."
Ruche stood and offered Ryou her hand.
Ryou took it and rose to his feet.
"We move at dawn. Get some rest until then. You look absolutely terrible."
"Look who's talking. Your body went transparent a minute ago."
"Excuse me!? None of your business! I've still got plenty of divine power left!"
"I'm saying that because it doesn't look that way."
"You really do say one word too many! Just get back already!"
Ruche spun on her heel and stalked off.
Ryou watched her retreating back.
(This woman—her mouth is foul, but she's genuinely trying to help me.)
(...I have to do everything I can, too. To get her home.)
Ryou followed after Ruche.
――――――――――――――――――――
The next morning.
On the outskirts of the Riverside Market, in the old warehouse district.
With morning mist hanging in the air, the two of them hid in the shadow of a warehouse.
"...This is his base?"
Ryou looked up at the large warehouse before them. An old stone building, with two men standing guard at the entrance. Gareth's underlings, no doubt.
"Heard it from an informant. That man Sang. Whether he's trustworthy is another question."
"Sang, huh..."
A small pang shot through Ryou's chest. He already knew that Sang had leaked his information to Gareth.
"Information from a traitor isn't worth much, is it."
"...Even so, right now he's all we've got."
"I suppose so. Come on, let's get you disguised."
Ruche folded her hands before her chest. Her golden eyes glowed faintly.
"...O remnant that dwells within me. Manifest a false form here before me."
Ruche's body was wrapped in a pale light.
When the light faded, the one standing there was no silver-haired goddess—but a sister in a black habit. A white veil over her head. Her features were still Ruche's, but the atmosphere was entirely different.
"...Well? Sister Lucielle. Perfect, isn't it?"
Ryou stared at her.
"You, a sister...? There's no way that won't blow our cover."
"Huh? Why not!"
"Because that arrogant attitude of yours doesn't look like clergy no matter how you slice it. And I've never seen a sister with her brow furrowed like that."
"None of your business! That man isn't clever enough to doubt a member of the clergy. This is fine!"
"...I really hope so."
Ryou changed into the apprentice monk's robes Ruche had handed him. Rough hemp cloth, but it would get him inside the warehouse.
"You're far too handsome for an apprentice monk. Won't that make them suspicious?"
"Is that my fault?"
"Yes. It's your fault. It's all your fault."
"Seriously...?"
Ryou sighed.
"...Let's go. Walk behind me. And don't say anything unnecessary."
"Got it."
The two of them started toward the warehouse entrance.
The guard at the door noticed them.
"Oi, what do you two want?"
A burly man glared at them with sharp eyes.
Ruche made the sign of the cross over her chest.
"May the Star God's blessing be upon you. We belong to an order that delivers alms to the poor of this city. We were told there were donated foodstuffs in this warehouse."
The guard eyed her suspiciously.
"Food? Haven't heard anything about that."
"How strange. We most certainly received permission from the merchants' guild."
Her tone had lost all its usual haughtiness—she was every inch the gentle, compassionate sister.
(Amazing... Her acting is incredible.)
Ryou marveled inwardly.
The guard exchanged a look with the man beside him.
"Oi, you hear anything about this?"
"No...but I can't imagine a sister would lie."
Guard B stared at Ruche's face. Ruche smiled sweetly.
In that instant, Ryou moved.
A light flick of his right hand. A snap of the wrist. From his sleeve, a white dove's feather fluttered out.
"...?"
Guard A's gaze was drawn to the feather for just a moment.
In that gap, Ryou erased the last few seconds from Guard A's memory.
The art of magic. Misdirection. Diverting attention, shifting perception.
"...Please, go on through."
Guard A's eyes went blank.
Ruche spoke in a voice only Ryou could hear.
"Nicely done. Starting to understand how magic is the art of making lies hold together?"
"...Yeah. So my tricks had a use like this after all."
The two of them stepped inside the warehouse.
――――――――――――――――――――
Inside, it was dim and musty.
Wooden crates were stacked high, with narrow paths winding between them. The ceiling was tall, and morning light filtered in through gaps here and there.
"...No one here. We go deeper."
Ryou walked behind Ruche, keeping watch on their surroundings.
(Gareth's base... What's in here?)
The crates were packed with weapons and food. Supplies Gareth had extorted from the town, no doubt.
The air grew heavier the deeper they went.
"...It's just ahead. I sense something unpleasant."
Ruche's golden eyes glowed in the darkness.
The two of them stood before a small room at the very back of the warehouse.
The door was unlocked.
Ryou gently pushed it open.
Creeeak...
The room inside was dim.
A single old desk in the center. Something was resting on top of it.
"...That's—"
Ryou approached the desk.
What lay there was a bracelet.
A crude, heavy thing of metal. Its surface was carved with patterns he'd never seen before. The same bracelet Gareth always wore on his right arm.
"The Strong-Arm King's bracelet...!"
Ruche caught her breath.
"This is the source of his power?"
"...Let me see."
Ruche held the tip of her staff over the bracelet.
Her golden eyes blazed bright.
"...I'll read the residue of divine power. ...This is—"
Her expression turned grim.
"...Just as I thought. This bracelet is an amplifier for a defective Authority—something that should never be granted through a proper summoning. And it's poorly made, too."
"Defective Authority?"
"Normally, the Authority bestowed in a hero summoning is strictly screened under the divine realm's supervision. But this is different. Someone deliberately created this—a twisted fragment of power."
Ruche touched the bracelet.
"This bracelet amplifies Gareth's power, but in exchange, it returns recoil damage to him. The more he uses it, the more his body breaks down from the inside."
"Recoil... damage."
Something clicked in Ryou's mind.
"...So every time he unleashes his power, he's hurting himself, too?"
"Exactly. He may look invincible, but he has limits. That man's power is by no means infinite."
Ryou clenched his fist.
(There's a chance.)
(Even if I can't beat him with brute force, if I can exploit that recoil—)
"...This is proof of a twisted summoning. Your failure, too, may have been warped by someone's design."
Ruche's voice was trembling.
"...You're saying there's a traitor in the divine realm?"
"I don't know. But when you were summoned, the oracle was disrupted. That may not have been an accident."
Ryou looked at Ruche's profile.
The goddess who was always so haughty, so sharp-tongued, always complaining.
But right now, she looked afraid—afraid of the truth about her own failure.
"...Ruche."
"What."
"Your failure might not be your fault. But even so, you came all this way with me. That alone is enough."
Ruche's eyes went wide.
"...What's with you, all of a sudden? Don't say creepy things."
"I'm complimenting you."
"That's not a compliment! Idiot!"
Ruche turned her face away. But her ears had gone just a little red.
――That was when it happened.
From the back of the warehouse, multiple footsteps echoed.
"...They found us!"
"Because you said weird things! My divine-power detection got picked up by them!"
"My fault!?"
"Yes! It's all your fault!"
"Seriously!?"
The footsteps drew closer.
"Run! We break straight for the entrance!"
The two of them sprinted down the warehouse aisles.
――――――――――――――――――――
"Oi! Someone's in here!"
"Grab them!"
Angry shouts rang through the warehouse.
Ryou and Ruche wove between the stacked crates.
"They're coming from the front too!"
Three men blocked the path ahead.
Ryou flicked his right hand as he ran.
With a snap, countless cards scattered before the men's eyes.
"W-what the—!?"
Their gazes locked onto the cards.
"Now!"
Ryou and Ruche slipped past them.
"Damn it! After them!"
Footsteps closed in from behind.
"...Do something with your tricks!"
"Don't ask the impossible! How am I supposed to do that while we're being chased!?"
"I don't know! You're the magician!"
"A trickster and a magician are not the same thing!"
"They're the same!"
"They're not! And anyway, you do s
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