Chapter 23 | Reincarnated as the Hero’s Childhood Friend, Then Saving the World

Lovell had disappeared.

Margarita searched the courtyard Lovell had taken her to on the first day. Fearing that Lovell might have used some kind of stealth skill, she even dragged Joshua along.

“Are you sure this will work?” Joshua stood at the entrance of the courtyard, still holding the wooden sword he used for training. He had clearly been brought directly from the training grounds.

It wasn’t that he was complaining, but he wondered how he was so easy to find when she needed him.

“Just in case.” Margarita crouched down to look under a stone table. “Her master is an old thief; who knows what he taught her.”

The courtyard was empty. After getting tired of searching, Margarita sat by the low wall for a while.

Joshua simply watched her, saying nothing.

The next day, she went to the Swordsmanship Department training grounds. Glion said Lovell had taken a leave of absence for “feeling unwell.” He also blocked Joshua’s path, noting that yesterday’s training was incomplete.

“She’s not at the dining hall, the ruined school building, or the alleys...” Margarita bypassed Glion and grabbed Joshua, pulling him along. “Come on, to the Adventurer’s Association.”

“I’ll make up the training when I get back, Professor! Slow down, slow down...”

...

“Lovell Reed...” The receptionist flipped through a heavy registration book before looking up. “She’s been taking escort and gathering commissions for the past few days. A lot of them, but they’re all concentrated in the eastern part of the city.”

“Alright, thank you.” Margarita withdrew her gaze, her finger tapping the space between her eyebrows. “The eastern part of the city.”

Leaving the Adventurer’s Association, Margarita stood on the front steps, her gaze sweeping toward the end of the street. “She’s deliberately choosing commissions that can be completed during the day. What about at night?”

Joshua followed her. “She’s avoiding you.”

It was obvious.

The two crossed the main street and headed for the East Gate. Dusk crept up from behind the rooftops, staining the cobblestone road a grayish-blue.

When they exited the East Gate, the guards raised torches to check their faces before waving them through.

The hills outside the gate looked like frozen waves in the night, with bushes and gravel casting fragmented shadows under the moonlight. Margarita stood atop a mound, looking over the terrain she had once followed Lovell through.

“She won’t go to the dry well,” Margarita said. “The Special Action Group has a containment potion there, and Irene checks it regularly. she wouldn’t choose that place.”

Joshua stood beside her, his hand resting on his sword hilt. His Sword Saint’s Intuition made him squint slightly as his gaze swept over the surrounding thickets and slopes.

“Over there.” Joshua tilted his head toward a series of rolling hills to the southeast. “I smell blood.”

Margarita didn't hesitate, heading straight in that direction. She cast Feather Fall on herself, her footsteps as light as a leaf blown by the wind. Joshua followed; his footsteps were heavier, but he deliberately muffled them, trying not to make a sound.

After walking for about fifteen minutes, Margarita smelled it. A metallic scent of iron mingled with the night breeze and the smell of earth, faint and elusive. Further ahead, she saw marks on the ground—upturned gravel, bushes with branches sliced by a blade, and a dark stain partially covered by soil.

She crouched down and touched the stain. It wasn't completely dry.

“Not long ago.” She stood up and continued forward.

Behind a hill was a hollow, surrounded on three sides by rocks with only a narrow opening leading out. In the center of the hollow stood a dead old oak tree with gnarled roots, surrounded by scattered gravel and broken branches. Moonlight shone diagonally from the top of the rocks, casting the hollow into half-light and half-shadow.

Standing at the narrow opening, Margarita saw Lovell.

The red-haired girl was sitting on the ground with her back against the trunk of the dead oak, her legs stretched out. Her left hand was pressed against her right ribs, with dark liquid glistening between her fingers in the moonlight. One of her daggers was stabbed into the ground in front of her, while the other lay in a pile of gravel two steps away. Her short red hair was messily plastered to her face, and there was a horizontal wound on her forehead; blood ran down the bridge of her nose, forming a dark red bead at the tip of her chin.

Margarita’s feet felt nailed to the spot.

“Lovell!” Joshua rushed out first, reaching the oak in a few strides. He knelt down and checked her breathing. Then he turned his head and shouted to Margarita, “She’s still alive!”

Margarita moved. Her legs felt like jelly as she ran, and she even tripped over a piece of gravel, nearly falling. She knelt on Lovell’s other side, reaching for her wrist. Her pulse was weak.

“Lovell, Lovell, wake up.” Margarita’s voice was trembling.

Lovell’s eyelids fluttered, her eyelashes trembling as she forced them open a sliver. Her amber pupils were dilated in the moonlight, taking several seconds to focus on Margarita’s face.

“...Little Mari.” Her voice was very soft, as thin as a thread. The corner of her mouth twitched as if she wanted to smile. “Why did you... follow me again?”

Margarita’s nose felt stingy.

“Don’t talk.” She pressed her hand over the wound on Lovell’s ribs. The warm moisture in her palm made her heart constrict. “Who did this? The Demon Race?”

Joshua suddenly stood up, unsheathing his iron sword and pointing the tip directly at the narrow opening.

Margarita looked back.

Two people stood at the opening. Hoods obscured most of their faces, leaving only their jaws and lips visible. They wore greyish-white robes, the hems embroidered with an olive branch pattern that glinted with a dull silver light under the moon.

The Sacrosanct Circle.

“The Special Action Group consultant,” the one in front spoke. His voice was flat, without much inflection. “And the new Protagonist.”

Joshua didn't reply. He adjusted the angle of his sword tip slightly, his feet shifting inch by inch as he shielded Margarita and Lovell behind him.

“We are just here to recover something,” the hooded person said. “This girl took something that doesn't belong to her. We will leave once we take it back.”

Margarita looked down at Lovell. Lovell’s hand was clutching a small cloth pouch at her waist, and a corner of dark paper peeked out from the opening.

“...Master’s letter,” Lovell’s voice was intermittent. “Half a month ago... he sent someone to the Adventurer’s Association with it... told me not to open it, not to go back to Arlan... I didn’t listen.”

“What did she take from you?” Margarita asked.

“You don't need to know,” the hooded person said. “It is merely something Grey Reed stole from the Diestwald family thirteen years ago.”

Margarita slowly stood up. She pulled Lovell’s hand away from the pouch and took it, holding it in her palm.

“What is written in this letter?”

The hooded person didn't answer. He tilted his head, and the person behind him stepped forward, hands emerging from his sleeves as dark purple spheres of light condensed in his palms.

“Consultant, hand over the letter and we won't make things difficult for you. Having followed her for so many days, we can’t go back empty-handed.” The hooded person’s tone didn't change. “The Protagonist hasn't grown up yet; he can't block two people at once. Besides, your friend is already at her limit.”

Margarita looked down at Lovell. Lovell looked up at her, her amber eyes shimmering in the moonlight, her lips moving soundlessly.

“Don’t give it to them.”

Margarita stuffed the pouch into her bosom and pulled the silver-white gun from behind her waist.

“Consultant, how long have you studied soul magic under Clara? Two months?” The hooded person’s tone carried a hint of mockery. “With that mana circuit of yours, how many spells can you use?”

Margarita ignored him. She pressed the muzzle against her temple.

“Joshua, protect her.”

Joshua looked back and saw that long-awaited stance—and that cold, hair-raising premonition.

“Margarita—”

Bang.

She opened her eyes.

Her deep blue pupils had turned pale pink, and a thin layer of light pink stained the whites of her eyes. Moonlight shone on her face, making it look as though a pink nebula had blossomed in her eyes.

The hooded person stepped back, his voice tinged with a hint of excitement but even more nervousness. “So it's here... It was here all along...”

Margarita didn't respond. She looked up. Joshua had already retreated to her side, sword raised to block Lovell; he didn't charge out. The opponents were casters; he would have to cross open ground to reach them, and he wasn't yet confident he could close the distance safely within the range of Margarita’s spells.

Margarita raised her right hand. The ball of pink starlight at her fingertips was no longer a pea-sized point of light, but a fist-sized Light Core. Its interior churned with stardust woven of pale pink and silver-white, like a miniature sun compressed to its limit.

Magic circles expanded behind her simultaneously.

The first layer consisted of three concentric circles, rotating slowly in the air about half an arm’s length behind her, their surfaces inscribed with the most complex spells she had memorized. The second layer was a shield wall of countless hexagonal light shields, their edges glinting with a silver-white light. The third layer was a veil of stardust mist, extending outward from her shoulders like an unfolding shroud, covering both Joshua and Lovell behind her.

The hooded person’s expression changed. He raised his hand to cast something, but Margarita didn't give him the time.

A beam of light erupted from her palm.

The pinkish-white light beam was as thick as a church pillar. With a sharp whistle, it pierced through the center of the hollow, striking directly at the two hooded men at the narrow opening. The one in front lunged to the side; the light beam grazed his hood, burning the edge into a charred curl and revealing half of a startled face beneath. The beam slammed into the rock wall behind the opening, sending rocks flying and burning a charred trench into the stone surface. The rocks at the bottom were still sizzling with smoke.

The second hooded person took this opportunity to release dark purple missiles. More than a dozen light spheres trailing black tails fanned out, converging on Margarita’s position.

Margarita waved her left hand.

The three concentric circles began to rotate at high speed, flinging out pink missiles with every rotation. The fist-sized missiles left trails of pink starlight that were piercingly clear in the night. The magic circle was like an erupting volcano, pouring down missiles like raindrops. They struck the rock walls at the opening, the ground, and the cover where the hooded men hid. Every explosion was a small pink mushroom cloud, causing the hollow to flicker between light and dark.

The hexagonal light shields behind her fanned out at the same time, actively intercepting the incoming missiles. The missiles slammed into the shield wall, exploding into clouds of dark purple smoke and sparks, causing web-like cracks to appear on the light shields. Margarita could feel the impact of every shield transmitting back to her palm, making her wrist feel numb. She simply let go of the maintenance and shattered the remaining shields, sending the fragments flying toward the opening.

The two hooded men dodged to either side. The fragments cut into the rock wall as if slicing through tofu, carving out a giant boulder which Margarita gripped with a Mage Hand and hurled heavily at them.

Joshua knelt beside Lovell, one hand pressing her wound and the other holding his sword in front of him. The stardust mist formed a layer of pale pink barrier in front of him, blocking flying rocks and aftershocks, which rippled away like wind over water. He glanced sideways at Margarita.

Margarita gritted her teeth, raising her right hand and bringing both hands together in front of her. All the mana she had released converged into her palms. The pink and silver-white light compressed into a single point, like a crushed star.

She gently flicked the star outward.

Nine-fold... never mind.

Light exploded in front of her. It didn't take the form of a beam or a missile; it was merely a pure, overwhelming curtain of pink light, sweeping toward the opening like a rising tide. Everywhere the light passed, the gravel on the ground was ground into powder, the bushes were flattened, and the surface of the rock walls was shaved off. The remaining black missiles they tried to fire melted away silently like snowflakes.

The hooded men turned and fled.

Damn it, you think you can run after offending this consultant?

Margarita flipped her hand and clenched it. Pink mana wrapped directly around the two men, cocooning them. But before the light curtain could submerge them, the ebbing of her mana came rapidly. Margarita felt her body hollowed out in an instant, and her head felt like the hollow in front of her—as if it had been blasted by magic.