Chapter 41 – Make Your Choice

Ugh, why me again…? Treating me like the neighborhood punching bag…!

Mayer stared at me in bewilderment after the unexpected incident.
Wipera turned back a second later to check what state I was in, then sneered, “Hah! How weak do you have to be to get tumbled over by that kid’s helping hand?”

Fortunately, he didn’t seem to notice Mayer’s surge of anger.
I laughed foolishly, relieved, and got to my feet.
Then, turning my back toward Wipera, I glowered at Mayer and tried to tell him through my eyes that now was not the moment.
Perhaps my desperate message made it across as he nodded dazedly.

Much time had passed after barely defusing the Mayer bomb that had almost blown up.
As we moved forward amid the tense atmosphere, we arrived before the boss battle in no time at all.
Only after reaching the front of the room with the boss monster did Wipera reveal his real self; with a dangerous look in his eyes, he said, “It’s your time to shine, reserve vice-captain.”

Not a second after he was done speaking, the other members of Blue Flames surrounded me to prevent my escape.
“You’ve been the least helpful so far while we were progressing through the dungeon,” he continued.
“What I’m saying is, the time has finally come for your useless self to make a difference.
You should do your part since you’ve been piggy-backing this far.”

I surveyed every person surrounding me as I asked, “…What do you mean?”

They stared at me with ridicule in their eyes as if looking down at a cornered rabbit.
Taking a step forward, Wipera cried out, “You’ll know once you’re in there.
[Blade of Revenge]!!”

A spell was cast on my body the very instant he uttered it.
I quickly looked through the explanation of the magic used on me.

[When a designated party member takes damage, the user’s attack power increases proportionally to damage percentage.]

The designated party member was me.
It was clear he wanted to sacrifice me to boost his attack.

“Are you surprised that I’m a support mage?” Wipera took out a dagger with a smirk.

I steadied my breath and stared at him, replying, “I’m more surprised that you’re a piece of scum that sacrifices comrades.”

Honestly, both points weren’t truly anything to be surprised about; I had approached him with suspicion in the first place.
Besides, I already knew that Wipera was a support mage.
He may have hidden this fact from the Dark Knights, but the party window showed everything.
I had been curious as to why he was hiding his class, but it turned out he was using it to stab comrades in the back like this.
This explained why he couldn’t make it public.
It was comparatively easier to hide the fact of being a support mage.
Gray hair was quite common, and even if one did awaken as a mage in the middle of life, there was the excuse of graying early.

Wipera snorted, taking my calm as my last struggle.
“Haha! What feigned composure.”

“…Abusing a spell created for the sake of taking revenge for a party member.
Saint Marianne would be stunned to know.”

“Oh please, call it application, not abuse.
Don’t they say that magic is a study of application?”

Wipera’s smirking face was utterly repulsive, lighting the urge in me to smash it in, but I couldn’t do that because I had to get more information out of him.
There was no concrete evidence as Wipera had only cast the spell on me—I needed more explicit proof from his mouth, or for him to stab me so that I could convict him for the crime of homicide.
Truthfully, I was seriously inclined to letting him stab me, although I kept that as a secret since Mayer would be shocked to know… I put on a mask of being afraid and asked in a trembling voice, “…Are you going to kill me?”

“So you’ve finally figured out the situation now? Am I going to kill you? Offering, sacrifice…” Wipera nodded.
“Yes.
Think of it as sacrificing yourself since thanks to you, I’ll be able to kill that boss easily.”

“…Aren’t you capable of defeating that boss with the team even without killing me? Why are you taking the risk of killing your comrades?”

“With the team?” Wipera snorted.
“Won’t the experience be shared that way?”