This Isn’t an E*otic Game?

The 213th Annual Academic Conference had concluded.

Despite the earlier commotion where the witch Erfa had been dragged away as an "abomination," the conference had resumed peacefully and ended, as always, with brilliant advancements in magical technology and new revolutionary directions.

Every presenter’s research was outstanding, but none could surpass the Study of the Primary Colors in terms of both impact and completeness.

The keynote presenters sat in the front row, and all of them stared at the witch Erfa in awe.

Though she still had four arms, she no longer wore her mask.

Her radiant beauty was now fully revealed to everyone.

Even when she had hidden her left side, the sight of her exposed right face alone had drawn countless confessions of love from wizards.

Now, with her left side restored, her beauty was so overwhelming it functioned as a mesmerizing spell in its own right, without requiring any additional magic.

“With that, we conclude this year’s Annual Academic Conference! A modest reception awaits, so please enjoy yourselves!”

As the conference officially ended, the wizards, true to their nature, waved their wands, and the hall was instantly cleared. Tables laden with refreshments, wine, and snacks appeared, and the attendees began mingling and enjoying the feast.

Unsurprisingly, the center of attention was Erfa.

Before the conference resumed, priests of the White Order had taken the stage and announced that Erfa was no longer an abomination. They declared that she had been fully restored to humanity through the miracle of the Saint of Healing.

A genius researcher with the potential to go down in history, who had also experienced a miracle—her presence alone demanded attention.

“Erfa, I have a question.”

“Did you truly experience a miracle? As a mage, what is your opinion on miracles?”

“Were you truly an abomination? What caused your left side to appear that way?”

“Could we use your Study of the Primary Colors at our company? Magical optimization is a critical issue for our automobile firm…”

Surrounded by countless inquisitive individuals, Erfa patiently endured an endless barrage of questions.

Smiling, she answered each one calmly and gracefully.

Due to her upbringing and past experiences, Erfa had always been shy and avoided large gatherings. Even when she had to appear on stage, she would give her presentation and leave quickly.

But now, in such a dramatic turn of events, her face and name had been permanently etched into the minds of everyone present.

Not just as the recipient of a miracle but as one of the greatest geniuses in the history of the Magic Tower.

“Haha! Who would’ve thought you were such a delightful person! Humble yet brimming with confidence—how impressive! Here’s my business card; I’d love to stay in touch!”

By the time Erfa’s pockets were bulging with business cards, Worgen, the Tower Master, cautiously pushed through the crowd.

“I have a brief announcement. May I have your attention?”

Tapping his wine glass with a teaspoon, Worgen drew everyone’s attention and stepped forward with a smile.

“This witch, Erfa, has lived in the Magic Tower for nearly a decade. She is a remarkable witch who has never caused any significant issues in terms of character or behavior. Though she once hid her left side, as you can see… she has experienced an extraordinary miracle and been fully restored.”

Worgen gazed at Erfa with an expression of pride, tinged with guilt.

“When the White Order identified her as an abomination and took her away, I did nothing. Erfa had every right to resent us. But after experiencing her miracle, she spoke of the past as something already behind her. She declared her desire to continue her career.”

Turning to Erfa, Worgen bowed slightly in apology.

“Her integrity, ambition, and exceptional talent have inspired me deeply. Compared to her, who demonstrated such maturity and strength of character, I find myself lacking. Someone like her… should succeed me.”

Everyone gasped.

Worgen had just declared Erfa as his successor for the Mars Branch of the Magic Tower.

“I will soon step down. My body is old, and my mind no longer works as swiftly as it once did. I’ve become obsolete.”

Though Worgen laughed heartily, it was common knowledge that calling him "obsolete" was far from accurate.

He was one of the few individuals who had been personally granted the title of Archmage by the Emperor.

And now, before their very eyes, Worgen proclaimed that someone even greater than him stood among them.

“Erfa will lead the Tower after me. So, if one day I disappear and can no longer be found, I hope no one will be surprised. Now! To the illustrious future of this great witch—cheers!”

Lifting his wine glass, Worgen shouted.

Everyone in attendance erupted in applause, raising their glasses in unison.

“To Witch Erfa!”

“To Erfa!”

The hall filled with cheers and applause.

The admiration and respect directed toward her were everything Erfa had once dreamed of.

But now, all of it seemed inconsequential.

How ironic.

When she had desperately craved it all, the fear that it could shatter at any moment loomed over her. But after she let go of that desire, her dream came true in its most perfect and unbreakable form.

Amael.

Erfa silently recalled the name of the man responsible.

Her life.

All this glory.

Everything was thanks to him.

From now on, her career, efforts, and achievements—all would be dedicated to Amael.

With that thought, Erfa raised her glass high.

“To Amael!”

Amidst the laughter and applause, Erfa was recognized as the next Tower Master—a glorious and radiant moment.

But for someone else, it was a scene of burning jealousy.

From afar, another witch glared at Erfa.

Tudel.

Clenching her fists so tightly that blood dripped, she stared at Erfa with venom.

Watching Erfa laugh amidst the cheers and blessings, Tudel turned and walked out.

“It’s not over yet.”

Her face twisted with rage and hatred, Tudel grinned devilishly.

“A miracle? A saint? Those things don’t exist.”

By now, the title of "Saint" had become synonymous with fraud.

There were no real saints or miracles, Tudel believed.

If she could prove that the Saint of Healing was a fraud...

If she could reveal that he wasn’t a true saint but a masterful con artist...

Then Erfa, saved by his "miracle," would see her position crumble as well.

The White Order might come for her again as an abomination.

“Just wait, Saint of Healing. I’ll expose you for the fraud you are.”

Tudel smiled.

It wasn’t over yet.

Erfa’s downfall was still possible.

A convoy of massive trucks and various heavy equipment rolled into the now-cleared factory site.

“Remember! This is going to be a colossal high-rise! The foundation must be solid! Start digging!”

Jonathan Karma, as if accustomed to such tasks, directed the laborers with precision, moving forward with the construction of the towering structure.

The workers who had volunteered for the project were mostly the impoverished residents of the slums.

“Come and collect your wages for the day! This is the will of the Benevolent Goddess! For one day’s labor, you will receive one saled!”

The Lilia Church, employing all of them, was hemorrhaging funds at an astonishing rate.

I watched the entire scene with immense satisfaction.

Yes!

That’s the way, you idiots!

They’re spending money like water.

Paying wages to the Sun Church’s paladins on my orders, entrusting massive funds to the walking disaster that is Jonathan Karma, and doling out ludicrously high wages to the destitute while even providing meals—surely, the expenses are draining their coffers at a truly absurd rate.

Even if High Priest Yodel wore a devout and serene expression now, as the costs continued to skyrocket and he discovered me indulging in an endlessly debauched lifestyle, he would undoubtedly abandon me in horror.

My plan was steadily falling into place.

I had set up a shabby clinic near the construction site, continuing to treat the endless stream of impoverished patients while praying for the Lilia Church’s swift bankruptcy.

“Saint.”

After a day spent tending to the sick, Jonathan Karma cautiously approached me.

“We’ve encountered a large boulder while digging the foundation. It’s so hard that our current equipment can’t break through it, causing delays.”

My ears perked up.

“What needs to be done?”

“We’ll need to rent more expensive, high-grade equipment. That will… incur significant costs.”

“Proceed.”

The heavens are on my side!

Spend! Spend like there’s no tomorrow!

Drive the Lilia Church straight into bankruptcy!

“High Priest Yodel, please arrange for the immediate rental of the high-grade equipment Jonathan requires—”

“Saint!”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Not her again!

The witch, Da’wan! Why is it always you?!

“Witch! You’ve arrived at the perfect time!”

Naturally, before I could stop her, the witch listened to Jonathan’s explanation and smiled while drawing her wand.

“Don’t worry! I’ll handle this for you!”

Troll!@@novelbin@@

There is no troll greater than this troll!

Stop ruining my plans and just leave already!

Do you have any idea how much money you’ve saved the Lilia Church by meddling?

Please, I’m begging you—!

…But of course, that outburst remained entirely in my head.

Who in their right mind would yell at a living nuclear bomb capable of wiping out the entire Empire?

I could only watch helplessly as the witch approached the construction site with her wand in hand.

“Hmm? A mana-absorbing stone? How can it be this massive?”

Her voice sounded surprised. The next moment, the ground trembled as if an earthquake had struck.

I turned my head to see her holding her wand and struggling to extract a massive black boulder embedded in the center of the construction site.

“It’s absorbing mana, so magic alone won’t be enough to remove it! I’ll need some help! Let’s all work together to pull it out!”

“Yes, ma’am!”

The laborers from the slums swarmed around the enormous boulder, grabbing hold and straining with all their might.

“Ready? One, two, pull!”

With a cracking sound, the giant black boulder was hoisted into the air.

I felt a surge of irritation.

Just look at it—it’s clearly dense and heavy as hell. If they’d used machinery to extract it, it would’ve cost so much more!

Still, I tried to console myself.

The act of building a skyscraper on this utterly worthless land was already an absurd waste of money.

At this rate, the Lilia Church was bound to go bankrupt—

“Something’s rising from beneath the ground! Witch!”

A sudden popping noise rang out, followed by the sound of liquid gushing.

I turned my head again to see the workers recoiling in shock.

From the hole where the massive boulder had been removed, a luminous blue liquid was gushing endlessly.

The witch approached the mysterious liquid cautiously, touching it gently with her fingers before her eyes widened in astonishment.

“Elixir… it’s an elixir spring!”

Eli-what?

An elixir?

Why the hell is that there?

Seriously, why is that there?!