Make Dark Fantasy Great Again Chapter 39 to 47

CH 39

Many believed Henya Ye Mastien might be destined to become the greatest mage the Gray Tower had ever known.

As the youngest master mage in the history of the Tower, her journey as a mage had been one of radiant triumphs. No failures, no setbacks. Every challenge, every conflict, ended the same way: with her proven right.

It was inevitable, then, that the genius mage came to place absolute faith in herself…and in doing so, she forgot how to doubt.

Indeed, there was a time when many believed Henya Ye Mastien might be destined to become the greatest mage the Gray Tower had ever known.

“You haven’t drunk the elixir yet…?”

Henya stared blankly at Risir for a moment before smirking and crossing her arms with an air of arrogance. She had interpreted Risir’s behavior as ‘making excuses out of embarrassment after being caught taking an elixir before their duel’.

“Right. So you do realize your actions aren’t exactly honorable.”

“Is that how it is…?”

“It’s fine, you don’t have to explain yourself. Actually, I’m rather glad you took the elixir. Want to know why?”

Henya paused dramatically, exuding self-importance.

“…”

From the moment they first met, this know-it-all young missy had been exhausting to deal with.

Feeling a sudden thirst, Risir took a mouthful of tea.

“Here.”

Didoa refilled his teacup without missing a beat, her expressionless eyes subtly sparkling as if she were waiting for something.

“Thank you?”

Didoa happily returned to standby mode, inwardly cheering at having achieved yet another natural conversation.

Risir felt drained on both fronts. He decided it was better to humor Henya and send her on her way quickly.

“Why would you be pleased that I took an elixir, oh I’m dying to know.”

Henya briefly scowled at his forced attitude but quickly regained her composure, replying in a smug tone.

“Actually, I was feeling guilty.”

“Guilty? That’s unexpected.”

Henya wagged her finger left and right, matching each motion with a smug “Nuh-uh-uh.”

“Unexpected? Hardly. Isn’t it something you must already know? After all, you were so hurried to obtain and drink an elixir before our duel.”

“…So basically…You felt bad after challenging someone much weaker than you, but seeing me secretly take an elixir made you feel better?”

“Correct. But…to be honest, I’m still not entirely at ease.”

Henya assessed Risir’s magic power. When she first saw him, he had just entered the 4th rank. Now, he had barely surpassed its entry level.

It was an impressive feat, given he had taken an elixir, but he was still far from catching up to Henya, who was preparing to enter the final stage of the 4th rank.

“I mean, even after going through the trouble of taking an elixir, you’re still not as good as I am. Right?”

“Since you brought it up, should we just go ahead and declare you the winner of the duel?”

“Well, I do know that a mage’s strength isn’t determined solely by magic power. But you see—”

Mana began gathering above Henya’s palm—not pure mana, but mana imbued with her essence.

This was assimilation, the ability to fully make mana one’s own and control it. It formed the foundation of unique mystic arts and magic, a power only mages of the 4th rank could wield.

Watching Henya’s display of assimilation, Didoa gave an approving remark.

“Splendid assimilation. I heard you’d just started learning it, yet you’ve already become so proficient?”

Henya shot Risir a smug look, as if to say, Hear that?

“I clearly remember. When I saw you at the magic shop, you had just reached the entry level of the 4th rank. So let me ask, do you know how to use assimilation?”

“I’ve only just heard about the concept.”

“See? And yet you want to duel me?”

“…”

Risir squinted at the assimilated mana.

Why does that feel so familiar?

Henya, drawing her own conclusions from his reaction, spoke as if chiding him.

“What were you thinking when you accepted my challenge?”

“But isn’t it just a friendly duel?”

“It is, yes…but surely you haven’t forgotten? The loser has to grant one request from the winner, no matter what it is.”

“Of course I remember. Just wait. I’ll definitely use that to turn my life around.”

“Turn your life around?”

Henya felt an inexplicable chill.

“What do you intend to even—well, no matter. You won’t be able to make that request anyway.”

“Oh, we shall see about that. By the way, it’s a late question, but what brings you here now? Surely you didn’t come all this way just to berate me for taking an elixir.”

“Ah, about that. Let’s say I’m giving you one last chance.”

“One last chance?”

“A handicap.”

Henya paused to disperse her assimilated mana.

“You just need to ask, and I could exclude assimilation from our duel. You might think it’s no big deal since you don’t know much about it, but you should consider it carefully. The level of magic changes drastically depending on mana assimilation.”

After a moment’s thought, Risir recalled the assimilation he had just witnessed and felt, then answered.

“I appreciate the offer, but I’ll have to decline.”

“What?”

“If I accept such a handicap, I might hesitate to make my request when I win.”

“…Ha!”

Henya sneered, finding it truly laughable.

“Is that so? Then I don’t need to hold back either, yes?”

“How about we both give it our all, using any means necessary, so there are no regrets later?”

“That sounds good.”

“Alright, you’ve agreed.”

“?”

Risir took out a vial and handed it to Didoa.

“Master Didoa, I’m wondering if we could start now.”

“Shall we?”

“Huh? Start what?”

Feeling an inexplicable unease, Henya pretended to be uninterested and interjected.

Didoa replied in her usual emotionless tone.

“Elixir consumption.”

“…Pardon?”

Henya’s pretense fell apart. Flustered, she looked back and forth between the elixir in Didoa’s hand and Risir. Then she cried out in disbelief.

“You’re drinking another one?!”

Risir burst into laughter.

“Another? Do I look like such a rich kid to you?”

As Risir said, consuming elixirs back-to-back was a luxury even royalty would find difficult to indulge in.

“I mean, that’s not even the issue! Taking two elixirs in succession? Your body won’t be able to handle it! Master Didoa, shouldn’t you stop him?!”

Didoa asked Risir with a deadly serious expression.

“Risir, have you consumed an elixir recently?”

“I haven’t. Not recently, or ever in my entire life.”

“There you have it, Miss Henya.”

“No, no, Master Didoa? Weren’t you the one who helped that guy drink one?”

“I’m about to help him now.”

“???”

Henya kept glancing back and forth between Risir and the elixir vial in Didoa’s hand. Her expression was gradually crumbling, along with her sense of reality.

“No—no—no—”

While Henya repeated the same word like a broken record, Didoa carefully examined the elixir before bustling around the lab to gather various reagents.

After mixing them on the spot, she called out to Risir.

“Could you take off your top for a moment?”

“Huh? Al-alright.”

Risir complied and was soon half-naked as instructed.

“Somehow I feel bad making you undress alone. Embarrassing, right? Should I undress too?”

“It’s fine. Really.”

“Risir is so kind. Okay, may I touch you for a bit?”

Didoa asked carefully, extending her hands marked with magical sigils.

“Of course.”

Soon, various reagents were applied to different parts of Risir’s body.

During the process, Didoa explained the reagents to him. His expression grew more complicated as he listened.

“Er, Master Didoa? Just asking, but aren’t these reagents quite valuable?”

“It’s fine.”

“…So they are valuable? Is this normal when assisting with elixir consumption?”

“No, it’s an additional process. Not absolutely necessary, but nice to have.”

“So, I’m basically consuming expensive reagents I don’t really need?”

“I’m doing this because I want to, so don’t worry about it.”

“…Thank you, Master Didoa. I don’t know how to repay this kindness…”

“If you really want to repay me, you could call me casually instead of Master Didoa.”

“…Didoa?”

Didoa nodded happily with her usual expressionless face, inwardly cheering at feeling like she’d grown closer to Risir.

Finally, after completing all the preparations, Didoa opened the elixir vial and handed it to Risir.

“Bear this in mind. After drinking the elixir, you must follow my instructions completely.”

“Understood.”

“Did I sound too harsh just now? Sorry if I offended you.”

“…You don’t need to worry about me. Please speak freely.”

“Mhm, thank you. As I’ve mentioned several times, that elixir is exceptionally high-grade, which means it contains an enormous amount of power. This kind of elixir inevitably causes excruciating pain during the absorption process. I’m just giving you a heads-up, but you won’t be able to endure that pain completely.”

“Then what should I do?”

“You still have to endure as much as possible. While you’re at it, try to control the elixir’s energy. Aim for 50%. Absorb at least 50% of the elixir’s energy. That alone would be incredible. Don’t be afraid, I’m right here with you. Understand?”

“I understand.”

Risir exchanged a glance with Didoa before drinking the elixir.

He braced himself for the immense side effects—whether his heart would race wildly, his blood would boil, or his guts would twist with pain.

“…About the pain, Master Didoa. When is it supposed to hit again?”

After waiting endlessly for side effects that never came, Risir asked Didoa, looking like a patient awaiting the sting of an injection.

“…”

“Master Didoa?”

Didoa’s emotionless eyes trembled as she replied in a dazed voice.

“I think it’s over.”

“What? Over? But nothing happened? Did something go wrong? How much—what percentage of the elixir did I absorb?”

Risir sounded flustered, but Didoa was even more bewildered.

“All of it…”

“Sorry?”

“I think…you absorbed all of it.”

“…Didn’t you say earlier that absorbing even 50% would be amazing?”

“…Do you feel any discomfort anywhere?”

“…For now, I don’t think so.”

Didoa nodded.

“I don’t know what happened, but congratulations. It looks like you’ve achieved great success.”

Henya, who had watched the entire process from the side, muttered in blank shock.

“What the…”

Risir was now on the verge of reaching the 5th rank.

The next day, the afternoon of the duel arrived. Risir and Henya met in the mage tower’s inner courtyard, as promised.

Henya had to persuade herself countless times just to make it here.

It’s alright. His magic power did increase excessively…But that doesn’t change the fact he’s just reached the 4th rank and knows nothing about assimilation, right?

I can do this. I can win. Magic power alone means nothing. I just need to beat him in mana manipulation and magical prowess.

Henya nodded, finally steeling her resolve. Her eyes were filled with her usual confidence—an absolute confidence bordering on arrogance.

A man watching from afar called out.

“Are both sides ready?”

He was Master Ladros, acting as an impartial third-party judge for the duel.

Risir and Henya exchanged a look and nodded.

“Then, begin.”

Henya immediately summoned her power, fiercely intent on enhancing all her mana with assimilation.

“…Wait!”

Henya’s momentum faltered as she cried out, staring at Risir.

“You—what is that?!”

“?”

Aspect magic went beyond simply assimilating mana with one’s essence. It used the principle of aspect shaping to freely transform the nature of mana through the assimilated essence.

Aspect shaping was most definitely the next stage beyond assimilation, and generally required reaching the 5th rank to even grasp its concept.

…An abnormal wind was swirling around Risir.

It was an unmistakable display of aspect magic.

CH 40

“My disciple is too good for me.”

This was a pet phrase of Marina, Henya’s master.

“My disciple is too good for me.”

Each time she said these words, her face would radiate affection and pride for her student.

“My disciple is too good for me.”

But at some point, her expression began to change when she spoke them.

-Master. I’ve told you many times, but you don’t need to provide me with material support. If there’s something I need, just let me know. I can acquire it myself.

-This ring…the one you gave me, remember? I don’t think I need it anymore. I’ve found something more suitable, you see. I’ll return it to you.

“My disciple is too good for me.”

Henya was a disciple of impeccable conduct. Marina would joke that even if she weren’t around, her disciple wouldn’t go hungry anywhere.

-No, Master. It’s enough. From now on, I’ll think and learn on my own.

“My disciple is too good for me.”

Henya was an extraordinarily fast learner. Marina would joke that even without her guidance, her disciple would thrive—and perhaps grow even faster without her.

-…I have a slightly different opinion, Marina. Your thoughts are certainly interesting and useful…But on this matter, at least, I believe I should apply my own method.

“My disciple is too good for me.”

-This book was kept in our family library. To tell you about it…it’s actually a grimoire related to an ancient branch of magic. I kept it secret all this while, but I’ve been researching this since the day I first came to the tower.

-I’m revealing this now because…Marina, I want you to help me with this research.

-…Is that so? It’s fine. Pretend you didn’t hear it. I did hope you’d understand—but I didn’t expect much anyway.

“Henya…”

Marina murmured wistfully, gazing at her disciple’s grave.

There was no tombstone, and thus no name to mark it. It was a humble grave that would be forgotten the moment she turned away.

She recalled her disciple’s final moments before her downfall. She had imagined Henya’s image—a great mage, woven with glory and honor—would be immortalized in history, remembered forever.

“I never imagined you’d be buried in such a humble grave…”

The master recalled her disciple’s final sight before the body was recovered. Amid the devastation of the ancient spell, a single, clean scar stood in stark contrast to the ruined body, resembling her disciple’s handwriting.

That scar was the trace of a 3rd-rank spell: Mana Spike.

Mana Spike had been the first spell Marina taught Henya, the spell that awakened Henya’s talent as a mage, and the spell that bound them as master and disciple.

Of all the magic at her disposal, Henya had chosen to end her life with that very spell, as if placing a neat full stop to the end of a life stained with mistakes and shame.

Her death, then, was an act of reflection and repentance for past wrongs. She chastised her own mistakes by showing respect for her master’s teachings—respect she had never fully expressed. Even though chastising the disciple’s mistakes should have been the master’s duty…

But her disciple had always fulfilled what the master should have done. And each time, the master told herself it couldn’t be helped because…

“You were too good for me, my disciple…”

Perhaps there could have been another way…but now, with everything ended, that was a pointless fantasy.

The master placed her staff on her disciple’s grave and renounced her magic power.

It was a grave without tombstones—far too humble to honor two mages.

Before the duel began, Marina had sensed something very off about her disciple.

-Henya, shall I announce the duel and accept spectator applications?

-…No! Absolutely not!

-What?

Henya loved proving herself and would eagerly boast about it afterward. She enjoyed this process more than anything.

Normally, Marina wouldn’t have needed to suggest it. Her disciple would have already announced the duel and accepted spectators, assuring her there was no need to worry.

But when Henya reacted in the complete opposite way this time, Marina, as her master, couldn’t help but be baffled.

However, witnessing the duel in action, Marina finally understood why.

Master Ladros, the duel’s judge and only other spectator, exclaimed in shock.

“Good heavens. He’s only at the 4th rank, yet he can aspect shape?”

“…Master Ladros, that’s not the issue right now.”

“Not the issue? What are you even saying, Master Marina?”

Still in shock, Marina shot a glare at Meltas.

“Meltas, what on earth have you done?”

The old man was solemnly stroking his braided beard. Interpreting this gesture in her own light, Marina grew increasingly agitated.

“I know I remember right. That Risir boy. When I saw him yesterday morning, he had just entered the initial stage of the 4th rank.”

“…?!”

Master Ladros’ astonished eyes grew even rounder, staring at Risir in disbelief.

“I did hear that Risir fellow took an elixir…”

“Are you saying one elixir took him from the beginning of the 4th rank to the end? What, did he drink a brew of dragon blood? I’ve heard about it. It was a high-grade elixir made by Gosralta shamans, wasn’t it?”

“A high-grade elixir from Gosralta shamans? That would be quite challenging for someone at the 4th rank to handle…”

“Oh yes, challenging for sure. But let’s be generous and say that boy managed to process about 50% of the elixir’s potency.”

“…I’d say he would’ve reached mid-4th rank, at best.”

“Right. You agree, Master Ladros? Isn’t that the best-case scenario? But what’s this. Hasn’t he already reached the late stages of the 4th rank? Meltas, you’d better not try to gloss this over by saying I’m mistaken.”

The two masters turned to Meltas, demanding an explanation.

“…”

What they didn’t know was that the most surprised person there was none other than Meltas himself.

“At least you two know Risir was originally at the 4th rank…”

“?”

“?”

To make matters more complicated, when Meltas had first met him, Risir had been at the 3rd rank.

Meltas suddenly recalled what the lad had told him and simply repeated it.

“In any case, there’s nothing to be surprised about. This happens sometimes, apparently.”

“…What are you on about?”

“Don’t ask me further. I’m just as perplexed as you are right now.”

Meanwhile, as the three master mages processed their shock, Risir spoke to his opponent.

“Henya.”

The masters quickly turned their attention to them.

The duel had come to a standstill the moment it began. Henya had frozen in place, overwhelmed by the aspect magic Risir displayed. A wind arrow hovered above his hand, ready to strike.

His intuition whispered that if he attacked Henya now, she would yield victory without much resistance.

A moment of effortless glory would be nice in its own right…but it wasn’t the best outcome. This duel on its own was an important opportunity.

Risir needed to confirm his true level through this fight. Furthermore, he needed time to get a grasp on the power he had gained from his rapid growth.

For both of these to happen, Henya needed to be a worthy opponent. So Risir started to provoke her with a mischievous grin.

“Not bad. Ice magic, huh?”

“…What?”

“Oh? It wasn’t? You froze up like ice so I figured, you know…”

Risir had more talent at provocation than he thought, as Henya’s face instantly turned bright red.

“Oh, now it’s fire magic. Is that what they call hybrid coloring or whatnot?”

“You-you! You!!!”

“Go on, can’t you see I’m all ears? I’ve even stopped my attack.”

“How the heck did you do it?! Aspect shaping? It’s impossible!!! It-it’s gotta be the elixir, right? Isn’t it?! I can’t accept this!”

“Can’t accept it? Now that’s a huge pickle. It sounds like the only thing left is for little Henya to completely deny my wind magic. You know, with that prided assimilation of yours.”

Risir was excessively more talented at provocation than he thought.

Despite having lost all her fighting spirit, Henya glared at Risir with gritted teeth. Yet, for all her anger, she hesitated to act—his unnatural presence had completely shattered her sense of reality.

In the end, Henya pushed herself to the limit, gripping a book in her left hand. It was the ancient grimoire she had been studying since arriving at the mage tower.

If I use this…

But just as she focused her entire mind on the book—

“Henya, come to your senses!”

Her master’s stern reprimand broke her concentration.

“Are you trying to make everything I’ve taught you meaningless?”

“…!”

“Remember my teachings! The answer lies within them!”

Meltas and Ladros turned to Marina in surprise. She looked unbelievably stern for someone who always said, “My disciple is too good for me.” And she was usually so careful when dealing with her disciple.

Henya’s reaction was equally surprising. The girl respected her master, but more than that, she always stubbornly insisted on doing things her own way.

Normally, Henya would have insisted on proving her method was the right one, refusing to follow Marina’s advice.

“…”

But now, she listened.

Henya discarded the ancient grimoire she had been clutching, and as her master had advised, she recalled her teachings.

The wind arrow that had seemed overwhelmingly powerful began to look different.

It’s unstable.

Apparently, Risir’s claim of not knowing mana assimilation wasn’t a lie after all. In the shaping of his magic, she detected several flaws that shouldn’t be there.

Though Risir’s magic appeared flawless at first glance—perfect, even—a closer inspection revealed it was riddled with imperfections. So many, in fact, that it was surprising it held together at all.

To use an analogy, it was basically a building constructed without any professional knowledge.

Is that even possible?

Henya struggled to process it. This meant that Risir had reached the stage of aspect shaping on his own, without the aid of expert knowledge.

That’s impossible.

A chill ran down her spine as Henya forced herself to push the thought aside.

That’s not what I should be focusing on anyway.

Henya redirected her attention—from the irrationality of Risir’s magic to its imperfections.

“Finally.”

Risir flashed a wry smile as a mana barrier formed around Henya. His wind arrow surged toward the barrier, as if it had been waiting for this moment.

The arrow, shaped through aspect magic, had a natural advantage over Henya’s barrier, which had been created through assimilation. The arrow’s additional properties and the precision of the magic should have been on an entirely different level.

Normally, Risir’s attack would have succeeded, and Henya’s defense would have failed.

-Sshhhrrr.

The tip of the wind arrow accelerated, piercing into the barrier.

Henya focused her whole mind, feeling the barrier as if it were her own skin. She sensed the structure of Risir’s aspect magic—its imperfections.

The barrier responded to her will.

-Shwoosh!

In an instant, a gust of wind spread out in all directions. The wind arrow dissipated before it could fully penetrate the barrier.

Without hesitation, Henya aimed her hand at Risir. Multiple Mana Spikes formed and rained down on him in quick succession.

“What the—”

Henya couldn’t hide her surprise at Risir’s response. Instead of forming a barrier, he tried to dodge the spikes by accelerating through wind magic.

It was an extremely inefficient method, showing not just a lack of knowledge but a lack of experience.

Sure enough, Risir realized the problem while dodging the spikes and belatedly formed a mana barrier.

“Ugh!”

But his barrier was as fragile as his wind arrow. In the end, one last spike pierced Risir’s arm.

Thanks to the defensive magic in place for duels, there was no injury, but the impact was still fully felt.

He grimaced in pain, clutching his arm.

“Got him!”

“Well done.”

The master and disciple cheered simultaneously.

Henya inwardly reassured herself.

I know I can pull it off! It’s possible!

Henya had somewhat regained her usual composure.

But just as the crumbled fragments of her reality began to regain their original shape—

“So this is how it feels.”

Her ears caught Risir’s vague mutter, and another chill ran down her spine. That small, simple remark stirred up a wave of ominous possibilities in her mind.

-Whoosh!

Once again, wind gathered around Risir, taking form above his hand.

“You…”

Henya couldn’t hide her agitation. It wasn’t just one wind arrow, but multiple, and they weren’t arrows at all. They were spikes.

Risir had recreated her Mana Spikes using wind magic.

Henya became enraged, sensing an ulterior motive in his actions.

“Are you trying to compete with me now?!”

“I don’t mean to provoke you.”

“Then what do you mean?!”

Risir didn’t answer with words but with actions.

What happened earlier repeated itself. His aspect magic attempted to penetrate her barrier, while her assimilation magic tried to repel it. The only difference was that Risir’s unstable arrow was now in the form of spikes.

Nothing should have changed.

“…!”

And yet, Henya’s face twisted in shock.

Risir’s wind spikes weren’t mere imitations. They contained an understanding of the principles and intricacies within Mana Spikes. This was a clear reinterpretation of the magic.

“I learned something from you. Isn’t this the positive function of a duel?”

In fact, it was his wind arrow that merely mimicked the form of magic. What Henya didn’t know was that Risir’s wind arrow was an original spell he had created from pure imagination.

But she did know, with certainty, that Risir was acquiring magical knowledge with every passing moment.

The ominous possibility she had been trying to deny took shape in this moment.

“Don’t tell me you—”

Her mind flashed back to a conversation with Risir.

-One year. It only took me one year to get here. How about you?

-…A month?

Henya’s eyes trembled uncontrollably.

That tremor passed through the mana barrier…causing it to shatter along with the wind spikes.

“Ha…”

All that escaped her lips was a bitter laugh and a frustrated murmur.

“What the heck…”

The encouraging voice within her fell silent, as the arrogant genius mage had learned how to doubt herself.

After some time, Ladros raised his left hand to announce the conclusion.

“Duel over. The winner is—”

Risir waited for Henya to collect herself before approaching her. She stared at him silently, then let out a hollow chuckle.

“Fine, you won. Congrats. So, are you satisfied now?”

Henya was unnecessarily gruff, recalling how she had treated Risir. She naturally expected him to mock her.

“…”

But he didn’t. Instead, Risir shook his head and extended his hand.

“Do you remember what I said?”

“…!”

Henya was startled.

“…Right. We agreed to give it our all, using any means necessary, so there would be no regrets later.”

She let out an awkward giggle.

“I’ll say it again, Risir. I admit my defeat.”

Then, just as she was about to take his outstretched hand—

“…Eh?”

She belatedly realized his hand was angled strangely, his palm clearly facing upward.

“Not that.”

“…Huh?”

“Didn’t I tell you? If I won, I’d ask for your entire fortune.”

Risir explained in a playful murmur, still holding out his hand.

“The goods, please.”

His gaze was fixed on the book Henya had discarded earlier.

“…”

The bewildered disciple subconsciously turned toward her master, her face tearful.

The master met her gaze with a benevolent smile.

CH 41

Henya froze, momentarily stunned by the outcome of the duel. But it didn’t take long for her to recover. With her usual sharpness restored, she cleared her throat and turned to Risir, addressing him.

“I’ll admit it, Risir. You seem to have a talent. A special one, just like me.”

“…”

“Yes! Maybe you’re even slightly, marginally more special than me. But did you know? I think your sense of humor is terrible.”

Just moments ago, Henya had braced herself for Risir to revel in his victory. After all, she would have done the same in his position.

But Risir hadn’t gloated. Instead, he’d approached her with a serious expression, extending his hand in a gesture of respect.

For a brief, fleeting moment, Henya had been captivated. She’d even entertained the idea of acknowledging him as a rival.

But it turned out she was mistaken. This wasn’t an honorable mage’s handshake, but a shameless loan shark’s demand for payment.

“Did you really have to ruin the moment with such a dreadful joke? Honestly, I was this close to being genuinely impressed.”

Henya scolded him, arms crossed. The spark of pure admiration she’d felt was thoroughly extinguished.

“But I wasn’t joking.”

“Now you say that? Alright, so you realized you went too far and decided to backtrack. But oh no, it’s too late for that! So what—if it wasn’t a joke, you were serious about that nonsense?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“?”

“Do I look like someone who’d joke about something like this?”

Risir was acting ridiculous with a straight face. Ironically, the sheer seriousness of his demeanor gave weight to his words.

Henya, who had been confidently posturing with her arms crossed, faltered under his bright gaze.

“What in the world?! You win one duel and demand my entire fortune?! Do you even hear yourself?!”

“Didn’t we agree the winner gets any request fulfilled? I saw infinite possibilities in that clause.”

“That was just a figure of speech! Who’d actually ask for anything?!”

“How shameless.”

“Y-you’re the last person I want to hear that from!”

“Then let’s hear it. What would you have requested if you’d won?”

“At the very least, I wouldn’t have asked for something silly like your entire fortune!”

“Hold that thought!”

“?”

“Isn’t that because…you’ve never experienced the victor’s perspective?”

It really was a victor’s privilege.

Risir teased Henya with a sly grin. Her face flushed crimson with indignation as she sputtered, struggling to form a coherent response.

The high-born genius mage was accustomed to being in control, but she floundered upon finding herself at a disadvantage.

“S-s-so what do you want?!”

“Well, I already told you.”

“Wh-what if I refuse?!”

“That’s hardly possible. You, going back on your word so easily? I know what an honorable person you are.”

“Ugh…ugh…”

Like someone caught in a swamp, the more Henya struggled, the deeper she sank. Despite her efforts to regain control, she found herself completely at Risir’s mercy, being effortlessly toyed with.

At this point, all she could manage was to anxiously await his next move.

“…Well, I’m not completely unreasonable. Normally, I’d never budge—however! I’ll make an exception because it’s you.”

“…What’s that supposed to mean?”

Henya was so flustered that her thoughts slipped out unfiltered. She was practically hanging on Risir’s every word, like a disciple awaiting her master’s pronouncement.

“I’d rather not make things difficult for someone like you, if I can help it.”

“…Someone like me? What kind of person is that?”

“Need I say? A young mage blessed with both charm and talent.”

“…Why the sudden flattery?”

“Flattery? Honestly now, haven’t I toned it down considerably?”

“…”

He had a point. Compared to the usual flood of praise Henya received, Risir’s words were barely a compliment. Yet, they lingered in her mind, resonating more deeply than any grandiose accolades ever had.

“So, what are you trying to get at?”

“I will ask of you one item. Just one!”

Normally, Henya would have retorted with her signature sharpness, agreeing only after hearing what the item was.

“…Really?”

But this time, she accepted Risir’s offer without hesitation. Eagerly, even.

“…”

Marina was dumbfounded as she watched the exchange. Was this clumsy child really her clever, quick-witted disciple?

Unable to hold back, Marina stepped in.

“Risir, why don’t we hold this off for later? Henya seems a bit…overwhelmed right now.”

“No, Master. I appreciate your concern, but I started this. I’ll handle it.”

“?”

Huh, there’s the smart disciple I know. But why is she acting like that around Risir?

Ignoring her master’s bewilderment, Henya turned to Risir.

“So then…what is this item you’re after?”

“…”

Risir’s gaze shifted toward a corner of the courtyard, where the book Henya had discarded earlier lay.

“Oh…!”

Only then did Henya seem to remember the book as she hurried to retrieve it. She examined the book with a complicated expression.

“Hey. Do you even know what this is?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then why?”

“I felt a strange pull, I suppose.”

Risir could sense an unusual energy emanating from the book. It wasn’t malevolent like black magic, but it wasn’t entirely pure, either. Instinctively, he felt it was best to separate the book from Henya.

And who knows, maybe another lucky normalization will boost my magic power.

After a brief pause, Henya began to explain.

“This is…an ancient grimoire I found in the deepest archives of my family’s manor.”

“Oh?”

So it really was something special.

Risir’s mild reaction stood in stark contrast to the three masters, who were near flabbergasted.

“Henya, did you just say an ancient grimoire…?”

“Yes, Master. After considerable research…I’ve determined this book is a grimoire of lost ancient magic. It’s also written in a lost language.”

The three master mages turned grave.

A grimoire was an object of wondrous power and danger, capable of influencing its reader through the magic it contained. And if this one held lost ancient magic? It was far from something an ordinary mage could handle.

Marina spoke carefully.

“Henya? Didn’t you just say it’s written in a lost language? Then how did you figure out it’s an ancient grimoire? Do you know anything about the language?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Then how…?”

“…Sometimes, it speaks to me.”

“The book speaks?”

“A grimoire with its own will and consciousness…! The power and knowledge it holds must be immeasurable!”

The other two masters echoed Meltas’ astonishment.

Grimoires of extraordinary power and knowledge could sometimes develop a will of their own. Henya’s certainly seemed to fit that description.

“Marina. Is it truly safe for your disciple to possess such a dangerous item?”

“…Shouldn’t I be asking you that very question?”

“What?”

“Your disciple is the one asking Henya for it.”

“…Ahem. My disciple, Risir—”

“Don’t try that with me.”

“Tch. Risir. I don’t think it’s particularly wise for you to take an interest in that grimoire.”

Marina and Meltas reached an agreement. The grimoire was far beyond what these young mages should handle.

“For now…”

Master Ladros offered a suggestion.

“I say we consult an expert about this grimoire.”

“…”

“…”

The mention of an expert brought a specific face to both Marina and Meltas’ minds. Their expressions soured in unison.

In any case, Ladros had fulfilled his role as judge and took his leave.

Afterward…

“Henya?”

“Yes, Master.”

“What will you do with that grimoire?”

“…”

Henya glanced back and forth between the grimoire and Risir.

“Hey. You heard what the masters were discussing, right?”

“I did.”

“Yet you still want this grimoire?”

“It seems dangerous. Wouldn’t it be better for me to hold on to it, rather than you?”

“…You’re worried about me?”

“Well, that’s one of the reasons.”

Risir spoke subtly, as if downplaying his concern. But Henya couldn’t take it lightly.

She abruptly proffered the grimoire.

“Fine. Since you’re so worried…I’ll let you have it.”

“…Thank you?”

Risir accepted the grimoire with a bemused expression.

Meanwhile, Marina sighed as she observed her disciple.

Really, just who is this silly girl again?

She turned to Meltas.

“So, what now? That grimoire is now your disciple’s possession.”

“…Ahem. No choice then. We’ll have to go meet that fellow.”

Meltas looked distinctly uncomfortable.

Who’re they talking about?

Unable to contain his curiosity, Risir asked about this expert on grimoires.

“As Master Ladros said, he’s the foremost expert on grimoires in this city. And…”

As Meltas trailed off, Marina finished his sentence.

“He’s also the biggest bigot around.”

“Bigot?”

“You’d best brace yourself. He’ll dislike you on sight.”

Leaving the mage tower, Risir and the others ventured deep into the magic district. They arrived at a wooden building with a yard that appeared discreetly well-maintained.

The door stood wide open. As they entered, a warm greeting awaited them.

“Leave.”

A figure with androgynous features and neatly slicked-back hair stood leaning against a bookshelf. Their cool demeanor matched their chilling voice. And…

An elf?

The elf’s long, pointed ears were unmistakable. Without looking up from the book in their hand, he continued speaking.

“My lab is for invited guests only.”

“Do you even invite people, Gadena?”

Meltas’ voice already dripped with weariness.

“Usually no. Because usually, I’d prefer if no one set foot in my workshop. Especially not foul-smelling humans.”

If you hate humans so much, why live in a human city?

Risir itched to retort, but bit it back.

Meanwhile, Marina tried to persuade Gadena.

“Still, why don’t you make an exception this time? We brought something you’ll like.”

“…”

Gadena finally lowered his book and looked at the group.

“Get to the point.”

At Marina’s nod, Risir presented the grimoire.

“It’s a grimoire.”

“I can see that. Explain what kind it is.”

“It’s a grimoire of lost ancient magic.”

“…”

Gadena closed his book with a thud. Placing it on the shelf, he approached Risir and took the grimoire.

The moment he flipped its pages open…

<Elf.>

A dry voice emanated from the grimoire.

<Hear my question. When the coldest fire and the hottest ice meet, what will you do? Your answer will determine whether I grant you my knowledge.>

“…”

Bewilderment crossed Gadena’s face. He was surprised for several reasons: the grimoire had spoken, it was written in an unknown script, and the question was incredibly cryptic.

“The coldest fire, and the hottest ice…Since it’s an ancient grimoire, I better approach this from the perspective of ancient magic.”

It took Gadena a while, but he finally managed to come up with an answer.

The grimoire gave a curt response.

<A pathetic answer—but not the worst. Elf, I shall grant you a single passage.>

As promised, a single passage translated itself into a language Gadena could understand.

Henya helped explain how it worked.

“It asks questions when opened.”

“…What did it ask you?”

“I received similar cryptic questions, too.”

“And the reward for answering?”

“Anywhere from a single letter to a whole page.”

“…”

Gadena nodded, returning the grimoire to Risir.

But just as he opened his mouth to speak—

<Hello, friend!>

The book spoke again, this time in a cheerful tone that seemed to belong to an entirely different entity.

<I’ve got a riddle for you. Wanna try answering?>

“A riddle?”

Risir responded without thinking.

<That’s right! How many legs does a horse have when seen from afar?>

“…Five?”

<Five?! Oh my goodness! Dear friend! Such a whimsical answer to such a simple question! But I suppose I’ll hear you out! Why do you think so?>

“…Er, y’know. Because of the horse’s…th-thingie…I figured it might look like it has five legs from far away…”

<BAHAHAHAHAHA!!! You’re a funny one!!! I’ll grant you seven pages!>

The elf’s face crumpled.

My answer earned me a single passage, yet that vulgar joke is worth seven pages?

CH 42

Though Meltas and Marina had called Gadena an extreme bigot, in truth, Gadena wasn’t particularly unusual.

He was an elf, and most of his kind treated other races with casual disdain.

Many found this elven attitude irritating, but no one could deny it on all fronts. After all, the elves possessed lifespans several times longer than other races, an equivalently slow aging process, and, above all, a constitution favored by elementals.

These factors, touted as proof of elven superiority, carried a certain undeniable weight.

…Which was why Gadena was so perplexed.

Grimoires, books imbued with mana that formed a will of their own, were a type of elemental, most of which favored elves over humans.

This should have been especially true given the comparison: Gadena, a master of ancient lore, versus a human who answered a simple riddle with a vulgar joke.

Yet, the grimoire seemed to prefer Risir.

“…”

“?”

The elf, Gadena, finally directed his attention toward one of his unwelcome guests, the young human man.

After a brief observation, he concluded…

“This grimoire seems greatly fickle in nature.”

The human possessed power of the 4th rank’s final stages, which was noteworthy for his age, but nothing more.

Gadena could find no other reason for the grimoire’s preference. The young lady, Henya, was a prime example.

Despite his general disinterest in humans, he was well aware of Henya’s reputation. A prodigious talent, a genius mage who had garnered considerable attention even outside the Gray Tower.

Gadena heard she’d reached her current level within a year of formally studying magic, which was remarkable, even among elves. And Henya had stated that the most knowledge she’d gleaned from the grimoire at any one time was a single page.

He didn’t know how long the human man’s magical training had been, but he was certain of one thing: it must have been longer than Henya’s single year.

It was only logical. Even in all of Bondalles, few possessed a magical aptitude comparable to Henya’s. Therefore, it was reasonable to view the grimoire’s reaction to the man as not favoritism, but mere caprice.

Gadena quickly shared his findings to forestall any insulting assumptions about the grimoire’s apparent preference for humans over elves.

As everyone knew of Henya’s talent, they would surely understand.

“…”

“…”

“…”

“?”

But he didn’t get much of a reaction from the other three, who exchanged hesitant looks.

“I think it is favoritism…”

“Meltas, what are you implying?”

“…It’s nothing. Just continue with what you were saying.”

“…?”

Their reactions bothered Gaden, but he dismissed them. What could humans possibly know about elementals? What could they know about grimoires?

The aloof elf simply continued on his path.

“I’m not certain, but it seems like a grimoire crafted by a mage of Dallatzan.”

“Dallatzan?”

“Yes, a magic society that flourished in ancient times.”

“How can you tell just by looking at it?”

“The question-and-answer method of imparting knowledge. Dallatzan used to place such grimoires in public libraries to seek out potential successors.”

“They searched for successors that way?”

“They were, in many ways, a pure magic society.”

Gadena retrieved the grimoire from Risir. Opening it, he addressed the book directly.

“Am I mistaken?”

<No, you are correct. I did not expect someone in this era to know of Dallatzan. I suppose it’s to be expected of an elf. Your knowledge is extensive.>

A satisfied smirk touched the elf’s impassive face. He sensed that the grimoire possessed the power and will of at least a mid-tier elemental, even though it seemed not to have fully awakened yet.

Receiving acknowledgement from a grimoire of this level was encouraging, even for someone of Gadena’s stature.

Emboldened, Gadena invited the grimoire to challenge him.

“Ask me another question, Grimoire.”

<You know of Dallatzan, yes? Then let’s see if you know this as well. Tell me of Ra-Diman.>

“Ra-Diman…Ra-Diman…”

Gadena spent a while pondering the word, then handed the grimoire back to Risir.

As if entranced, he turned and began rummaging through the bookshelves.

“So what’s Ra-Diman…?”

Risir mumbled to himself in dejection. The elf gave no explanation, nor even an apology. It was a textbook example of abandonment.

“Did you know, Risir? This is VIP treatment by Gadena’s standards.”

“I’d understand if it were just me. But the way he acts even with two master mages and Miss Henya, a lady of prominent nobility…I can’t help but respect such unwavering disdain for humans.”

“Hey.”

Henya, as if struck by a thought, asked him.

“Earlier on, why did you answer like that?”

“Earlier on?”

“The number of legs on a horse seen from afar. Isn’t the answer normally two?”

The number of legs on a horse seen from afar is two.

Though Risir didn’t know, this was a famous proverb and riddle known by all mages.

“Why two…?”

“What are you saying? Of course it’s two. I should be asking why you answered five.”

Henya’s question was a mixture of vexation and curiosity. The grimoire’s unusually positive reaction had convinced her that Risir’s answer contained some hidden wisdom she’d overlooked, fueling her competitive spirit.

Risir was unaware of how much Henya’s estimation of him had risen since their duel.

“…”

He avoided her gaze. How could he explain the truth? That the hidden meaning behind his answer was a vulgar joke unbefitting a noble lady’s ears?

Of all the things, the one answer that came to mind…

Risir blamed himself, though it was too late. Henya’s innocent reaction was somehow more discomfiting than outright scorn.

“Hey! Why are you ignoring me?!”

“…Henya.”

Unable to watch any longer, Marina revealed the truth. Though Henya grasped magical concepts with lightning speed…she needed extensive explanation on this particular topic.

When she finally understood, her elegant face instantly turned crimson.

“…You can think of it that way too?! Interesting. You’ve got wit!”

Even as she writhed in embarrassment, she tried to maintain a facade of nonchalance, unwilling to admit her ignorance on such matters to her rival.

Of course, it was far too late for that.

An awkward silence hung in the air.

“Anyway…”

As the culprit behind this awkwardness, Risir took it upon himself to steer the conversation.

“Why did the grimoire react so favorably to me? Was it just a whim, like the expert said? Henya, did it usually act so capriciously?”

“Capricious…I’m not sure if I should call it that. For starters, I’ve never seen the grimoire in such a good mood before.”

“Risir. If you’re so curious, why not ask it yourself? The grimoire just so happens to be in your hands.”

“Uh…Can I just open it whenever I want?”

“It belongs to your now, so why hesitate?”

“That’s not what I meant…”

Risir focused on the sensation in his hand holding the grimoire.

The ominous aura he had faintly sensed before had intensified, to the point where he thought, Holy crap. I didn’t know it was this dangerous.

Deciding this was too much to bear alone, he shared his observation.

“What? An ominous aura…You’re saying it could be related to black magic?”

The mention of black magic made Marina’s expression turn serious.

“Why would such a thing be in our family archives…?”

Henya was equally shocked.

“Black magic? Isn’t it fine then?”

Meltas’ casual response startled them both. Marina stared at him, wondering if she heard right.

“Meltas, did you just say…it’s fine because it’s dark magic?”

If not for their long acquaintance, Marina would have immediately launched into a scathing interrogation. Meltas’ nonchalance was something expected of black mages who welcomed such dark powers.

“Hm? Ah.”

Meltas seemed to finally register Marina’s reaction, a strange smile playing on his lips.

“I see you’re not aware yet.”

“Not aware of what? That you’re a former black mage?”

“Don’t say such dangerous things.”

Meltas gestured toward Risir with the air of an artist presenting a masterpiece.

“There’s no need to worry about black magic. At least not when this young man is around.”

“…?”

“…?”

Marina and Henya could only stare back and forth between Meltas and Risir, bewildered.

Black magic was the most dangerous, malevolent, and mysterious power in existence. Unless one fully succumbed to it, true understanding—and thus, true countermeasures—were nearly impossible.

The more one knew, the more one feared. Wise and experienced mages were wary of black magic.

Marina and Henya couldn’t comprehend Meltas’ casual dismissal. What’s more, he seemed to base his confidence on Risir.

The young man was undoubtedly talented, but he was still only at the 4th Rank. Marina was confident she could handle him like a child, and Meltas likely could as well.

“Meltas. Unless you’ve finally gone senile, I hope to hear a reasonable explanation.”

“Heh, very well. But I warn you—you’ll be in for a surprise. Do prepare yourself, so you won’t be too shocked.”

Meltas began his explanation, practically bursting with pride like a doting parent. His flippant attitude made their expectations plummet, yet…

“…He defeated a necromancer?”

Marina and Henya were left astonished despite themselves.

Necromancers were servants of death, who yearned for death and wielded its very powers. As transcendental beings who held even the concept of mortality beneath their feet, their names were not to be uttered lightly.

Could even all the master mages of the towers combined stand against a necromancer? Marina wasn’t sure. Yet this young mage, standing before them, had defeated one.

“You expect me to believe that?”

“I know, it’s hard to believe unless you see it with your own eyes. Isn’t that why I’m telling you as a firsthand witness?”

“…”

“Risir possesses a special ability.”

“A special ability…?”

“A power that exerts absolute influence over negative energy. He used it to banish a summoned necromancer back to the Spectral Plane and to expose the black mage Tulan, who was making a mockery of the Gray Tower and its masters. I suspect this mysterious power is Risir’s Intrinsic Color.”

“…”

As the two women struggled to process this information, Risir questioned Meltas in a hushed whisper.

“Master Meltas. About that incident…didn’t she tell us to keep it confidential?”

He referred to Salana, the master assassin of the Assassin’s Guild. A figure no less fearsome than a necromancer.

Meltas could never forget a promise with someone like her.

“More precisely, she said not to divulge anything about herself.”

“…”

Risir was astounded. Meltas was willing to risk(?) his life to brag about someone else.

“…”

Even Marina was taken aback by Meltas’ behavior. The old man had stern features and a rigid personality to match, yet somehow, he had ended up turning into a doting grandfather.

Speaking of which…it was that boy who solved the Tulan incident.

Finally convinced, Marina crossed her arms and spoke with a sigh.

“So, what’s your point? Do we use Risir’s ability to purify the grimoire or something?”

“Can you do it, Risir?”

“…”

After a brief pause, Risir nodded. He opened the grimoire once more.

Gadena’s hand trembled as he held an open book.

“Ra-Diman…”

The word’s meaning and etymology had led him to a particular sect within Dallatzan who dabbled in every form of power: orthodox magic, white magic, elementalism, as well as black magic, blood magic, and sorcery.

These were madmen, relentless in their pursuit of magical advancement…and the grimoire brought by the humans was their creation. He could scarcely fathom the devastation that would follow if its power and knowledge were unleashed.

“This isn’t something a mere 4th rank mage should possess!”

Gadena hastily searched around him, but his eyes widened in realization—he’d left the grimoire with that human man.

The elf bolted from the archives, returning to the others.

When he arrived, he spotted the human man opening the grimoire and screamed in panic.

“No! You must close it, now!”

A voice echoed his warning.

<Close it!!!>

It was the grimoire.

<My magic power!!! That’s my magic power!!!>

The grimoire wailed like a peasant being robbed, while Risir’s magic power suddenly surged, nearing the 5th rank.

The elf couldn’t even begin to comprehend what had transpired in his absence.

---

CH 43

Upon learning the grimoire’s true nature, Gadena had feared the human would succumb to the corrupting influence of that ancient artifact.

<Stop!!!>

But instead, he found himself witnessing the grimoire screaming, trapped in the human’s hand.

It was almost comical. How could the situation be so perfectly inverted?

The elf took a moment to contemplate the world around him.

Finally, regaining his senses, he cried out in warning.

“…I don’t know what’s happening, but first stop! I sense a corrupting aura from the grimoire!”

According to Gadena’s recent discovery, the ancient grimoire was the work of mages from the Ra-Diman sect of Dallatzan. An extremist group who employed any means necessary to achieve their goals, their magic was a dangerous cocktail of black magic, blood magic, and other dangerous practices.

The power within the grimoire was far beyond what a 4th-rank mage could handle…Though for some reason, the human was now bordering on the 5th rank.

<Do you think that I, I would just stand for this?!!!>

FLRRRRR-

The grimoire’s pages flipped rapidly. Like a cornered beast making its last stand, its aura intensified.

“Ugh…!”

On average, elves were more sensitive to the nature of mana and elementals. Gadena recoiled from the grimoire’s foul, corrupting energy.

Even indirect contact at this distance is this painful…!

What would happen with direct exposure? Even a human, with their relative insensitivity to mana, wouldn’t escape mana overload.

Gadena cried out louder, feeling faint with fear

“Can’t you hear me?! The grimoire is radiating malevolent energy! Stop for now!”

Afraid that the human was being hampered by that dark power, Gadena drew his wooden staff and approached the grimoire, preparing to intervene.

“Wait, Gadena!”

Meltas’ urgent call stopped him.

Despite the interruption, a sense of calm settled on Gadena’s face. If there was any human whose opinion Gadena couldn’t help but respect—despite his blind disregard for the species—it would be those like Meltas.

A master of the Gray Tower and a mage on the brink of the 6th rank, Meltas was someone Gadena believed might offer an insight even he had overlooked.

“Meltas, speak your mind! How should we proceed?!”

“I don’t know what’s happening, but let us observe for the moment! I sense an evil power from the grimoire!”

“Yes, an evil…Wait what?”

He senses evil power, yet we’re supposed to wait?

Gadena felt as if the screws of reality were coming loose.

An ancient grimoire, brimming with malevolent energy, was being held hostage by a 4th-rank mage, screaming in protest…while the master mage he had trusted was treating this incredibly dangerous situation as if it were a windfall.

The world felt upside down.

“Meltas! Are you planning to satisfy your intellectual curiosity at the cost of this human’s life?! If this continues, he’ll more than likely become a cripple!”

“Such harsh words! Calm yourself, and observe a little more closely! See what’s happening to them!”

“What nonsense are you—?!”

Though rarely emotional, the elf was about to lose composure.

Then suddenly, his eyes went wide—the grimoire was pouring its mana into the human.

Gadena shuddered. What could be more effective use of such malevolent, tainted energy than this? Most mages would lose control of their mana the moment they were exposed to this attack, becoming puppets of the grimoire.

Yet, this human was different. The moment the grimoire’s mana entered Risir, its corrupt nature vanished. The foul aura, and the grimoire’s will controlling it, were all gone.

What remained was pure mana. The grimoire was essentially giving its magic to the human.

“What is…”

For all the absurdity of the situation, Gadena couldn’t laugh. Transmuting or purifying mana wasn’t something that could be done on the fly. Especially not when dealing with the corrupt, intermingled mana of ancient mages!

Even with proper equipment and procedures, it would take days.

“Huh…”

Gadena finally understood why the others had stood by, silently watching.

No, not watching. Spectating. Any mage witnessing this rare phenomenon would be captivated.

His staff lowered, the elf joined the captivated audience.

<I—I am…! The great legacy of Ra-Diman, and yet!!!>

The grimoire eventually realized its mistake. Trying to overwhelm this human with its mana wasn’t a good idea.

Like an insect retracting its stinger, it tried to withdraw the conduit it had established within Risir’s hand. It tried to stop the flow.

But it was too late. Risir’s energy had already infiltrated the conduit, reaching the grimoire’s core.

Malevolence forged from mana was the nature of the grimoire’s consciousness, which was why…

<Ah, aah…AAAAH!!!>

It was directly affected by Risir’s energy. The grimoire lost the power to control itself.

Meanwhile, the flow of mana continued.

<Please…please…>

The grimoire’s voice weakened, like a dying flame.

…And so, it poured even the mana that formed its consciousness into Risir, and ceased to exist.

The grimoire, now nothing but a hollow shell, fell to the ground with a pitiful thud.

“M-Mana Drain…!”

Meltas inadvertently uttered the name of a high-tier black magic spell.

“Are you mad?”

As someone who’d simply taken what was given, Risir immediately corrected him with a deadpan look.

“…So you’re saying this human, Risir, has an Intrinsic Color that purifies corrupt energy?”

Most elves were cynical about anything human-related. A typical elven response here would have been, “You think Intrinsic Color is almighty?” or, “A mere 4th-rank human mage couldn’t possibly have such power.”

Indeed, that’s what Gadena would have said.

But he couldn’t.

“As you just witnessed, yes.”

Unfortunately, he’d seen it all with his own eyes.

“How perplexing.”

Gadena had lived far longer than most humans, but even he had never encountered any human as bizarre as this Risir. He’d never even imagined such an existence.

He felt his entire worldview crumbling.

To collect himself, the elf shifted his attention away from Risir. He picked up (what used to be) the grimoire.

Gadena quickly flipped through the pages. It took less than ten seconds to grasp its contents.

The grimoire was now a blank notebook.

“…”

Gadena crossed his arms, rubbing his brow.

“Oi Meltas.”

The old mage flinched at the elf’s icy tone.

“Do you remember why I let you and those uninvited humans into my lab?”

“…Because of the ancient grimoire.”

Flip.

“The knowledge within the ancient grimoire. That was the price you implicitly promised me.”

Flip.

“And yet…”

Flip.

“All I have left is…”

Flip.

“A worthless, blank notebook.”

Flip.

“And uninvited humans.”

Flip.

“Meltas.”

“A-ahem. Yes, Gadena. Speak.”

“You know what this place is.”

“…Your lab, and a space designed to attract a certain elemental, if I recall correctly.”

“Yet it has been contaminated by human presence.”

Despite their appearances, Gadena was actually at least decades older than Meltas. Furthermore, he held a high position within elven society, akin to elven nobility.

If Meltas were to visit their lands, he would have to show Gadena the utmost respect.

All these factors combined led every human present to gather their hands and lower their heads submissively.

“…”

After a long, silent stare at the lot of them, the elf sighed.

“Very well. I can’t blame you all. This is my fault. Entirely my fault for involving myself with humans.”

He eyed the door meaningfully.

Risir and the others immediately left the lab.

“Ah.”

Just outside the lab, Risir realized his magic power had increased and subtly remarked on it.

“Dear oh dear. Miss Henya, I seem to have unknowingly stolen your opportunity.”

“Opportunity? What are you on about?”

“This.”

“Oh.”

Henya looked at (what used to be) the grimoire and nodded in understanding. A conflicted chuckle escaped her lips.

Marina, equally amused, raised an eyebrow.

“An opportunity. Was it really?”

“Sorry?”

“Risir, you’re the only person in the world who would call that an opportunity.”

Upon realizing the sudden proliferation(?) of Risir’s mana, now almost at the 5th-rank, they let out a series of hollow chuckles.

“What in the…”

At this point, Henya was too weary to react to every surprise Risir gave them. She wanted to declare, “I’ll avenge this humiliation! Just you wait!”

But…

…Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and see him at the 5th rank?

No, surely not.

Henya shook her head, struggling to deny the terrifying possibility.

“Just you wait! I swear to catch up to you!”

She practically fled the scene.

“I’ll be going as well. Risir, let’s meet again sometime.”

Marina followed her disciple.

“Sir Meltas.”

Now alone with Meltas, Risir voiced a lingering concern.

“Remember what Gadena said earlier about the lab? How it’s been contaminated by human presence.”

“Oh…”

“I didn’t mean it, but I ended up causing him trouble. Will he be alright?”

“It’s true that elementals generally favor elves over humans. However…”

Calling it contaminated was harsh…

Meltas tried to shake off the sting of the word.

“Well, everything aside, I admit this is my fault. I barged into his lab unannounced. My plan was to appease him by commissioning the grimoire’s translation, but with the state it ended up in…I’ll apologize to him later, so don’t worry about it.”

“But didn’t it all happen because of me? I’d like to apologize to him personally, if there’s a chance.”

“…Don’t you think anything of being treated like a contaminant and whatnot?”

“Oh, was his lab not really contaminated then?”

“There might be some minor influence, but I can assure you it’s not as extreme as he made it sound. I could understand him saying that to me, but to you as well…”

“Thank you. I didn’t think you’d be so concerned for me.”

“…Ahem. Isn’t it only natural when my disciple is involved?”

“Don’t try that on me.”

“Tch. A man shouldn’t play so hard to get. Anyway, while we’re at it, tell me. Who is your master that you’re so loyal to? It seems they haven’t taught you much.”

“My master?”

Risir hesitated whether to reveal his extraordinary master’s identity.

I guess it’s alright to tell this person.

“By chance, have you ever heard the name of Pamon?”

“Pamon? Pamon…”

Meltas’ eyes turned round.

“…Ahem! No! I know nothing of that dark elf!”

“?”

Then how’d you know she’s a dark elf?

Avoiding Risir’s gaze, Meltas continued speaking.

“A word of advice, Risir. I think it best not to carelessly mention your master’s name to anyone else!”

“Do you even know who my master is?”

“Oh just take my word for it!”

Meltas hastily added that he would contact Risir regarding his mage tower Supporter status and the reward for resolving the Didoa incident, then bolted away.

“Gadena.”

Not long after his uninvited guests had left, new visitors arrived at the elf’s lab.

It was a woman and a large man, both cloaked in black. They, too, arrived unannounced.

“Welcome.”

But Gadena greeted them courteously.

The woman was an elf, one of his primary patrons, and above all, someone he couldn’t afford to offend.

“I came to check on the progress.”

As part of her patronage, Gadena was carrying out a request for her: to locate an elemental that had vanished from Bondalles. Or rather, to lure it out.

The elemental in question was timid and easily frightened. If it realized it was being pursued, it would flee to an even more secluded location. That was why Gadena had relocated and remodeled his lab.

What with the excessively well-maintained garden, and the building constructed with magically treated wood, Gadena’s workshop was designed to entice the elemental.

“…”

Gadena’s expression darkened.

“There’s something I must tell you regarding that.”

It wasn’t long since uninvited humans had barged in and tainted his workshop. He would need time to assess the damage.

But while Gadena struggled to break the news to his patron, she spoke first.

“You mean the chair placed outside?”

“Pardon me? By the chair outside, do you…Ah.”

Gadena remembered the chair he’d moved out. Risir had wrestled with the grimoire right beside it.

In other words, that chair was a contaminant saturated with human essence.

He tried to explain.

“I don’t know what it is, but it’s fascinating. The elementals seem to love it.”

“…What?”

“Look.”

Gadena followed the woman outside to see.

He had tossed the chair out on the street to avoid further contamination to his yard…yet it was surrounded by the yard’s elementals.

“…”

Gadena realized this contaminant was more elemental-friendly than the environment he had painstakingly cultivated over years.

He fell into anguished contemplation.

---

CH 44

Immediately after separating with the mage tower folks, I mulled over Master Meltas’ parting words. He’d said he’d contact me once the Mage Tower Supporter qualification and the Didoa incident reward were finalized.

It had been a satisfying mage tower scouting trip(?)—full of events, but just as fruitful. I’d made good connections and basically secured a positive relationship with the Gray Tower itself.

Once either of those two matters was resolved, they would guarantee my status. With their backing, I’d be treated better than most common nobles, let alone a bastard.

This left me with two options: sit around and wait for the Tower to contact me, or find something productive to do in the meantime.

While I had become a man courted by master mages and anxiously pursued by the Gray Tower, I was still completely and utterly unemployed.

I’d spent the last few days building a good rapport with the Tower, but that also meant my job search had fallen behind.

Thinking about Fienne and Rona made me restless. Those two had already landed jobs and moved out thanks to their knack for bewitching others. The idea of just waiting felt unbearable.

But then again, the Tower’s backing would significantly improve the quality of opportunities available to me.

For a second, I debated asking Master Meltas or Didoa for a letter of recommendation…

“…Nah.”

But I thought the better of it.

The backing of the two master mages was essentially equivalent to the Tower’s official endorsement. But the difference was that my actions would directly reflect on their reputation.

I had to avoid overdependence, if only to maintain a healthy connection.

“Let’s see…”

I checked my pockets.

“This should last me a few more days.”

I ultimately decided to wait just a little longer.

“They’re laaate, those tower people…I’m going to end up homeless, y’know?”

A week passed, and still no word from them.

I hadn’t been completely idle, of course. I spent half my waking hours familiarizing myself with Bondalles (I wasn’t sightseeing) and the other half trying to control my rapidly increasing power. Plus, some training to burn off the restless energy in me.

Training with Henya or getting advice from Master Meltas would’ve been more effective, but sadly, I was still an outsider. Being friendly with a few people didn’t mean I had free access to the Mage Tower.

I admit to being tempted to just outright join the Tower itself…but that was pure wishful thinking. Mage tower students had to take regular written exams, and I hadn’t even read basic magic texts. Trying to catch up probably meant having to devour books instead of food.

If they asked me, “Why did you apply to our mage tower?”

I’d answer, “For money and power.”

Yeah, I’m not exactly equipped to handle all that.

“…”

I checked my wallet again.

“I think…”

It was the perfect time to start questioning the Gray Tower’s administrative efficiency.

I left my room, intent on doing anything I could.

District 9 was an area frequented by wealthy foreigners. My lodgings were here.

To be clear, I was far from well-off. My reason for staying in this district was simple: my delicate soul couldn’t handle anything below this standard. As a former modern human with a noble upbringing, my soul was surprisingly petite.

District 9 was my absolute baseline. The day I had to downgrade would be the day I sold my soul for money, probably.

I didn’t think this was especially unusual. Fienne was staying in the even more upscale District 7, surrounded by wealthy merchants and foreign nobles. Apparently, a master-level individual of a guild—who happened to be working as a receptionist—heard about Fienne’s situation and took pity, offering her a room.

Now that made me damned jealous. If only I were a cute girl capable of inspiring protective instincts…

Lost in that thought, I arrived at my destination quicker than expected.

[Fadian’s Morning]

I came to a cafe, which stood out even in the flashy commercial heart of District 5.

In this world, cafes weren’t just places to spend time drinking coffee—they were social hubs for the city’s trendy(?) crowd. Naturally, their hiring standards were famously strict, but surprisingly, Rona worked here.

Once a playboy who went around charming folks with her looks, demeanor, and smooth talk, she now lived up to that past and was apparently a prized asset in the hospitality industry.

The previous afternoon, Rona had visited my lodgings and asked me to stop by the cafe. So, I decided to drop by before starting my serious job hunting. District 5 was also home to several adventurer guilds, so it was a convenient detour.

The cafe was pretty quiet, probably because it was before lunchtime. As I peered inside, a tanned blonde girl wiping down tables noticed me and hurried outside.

“Uh, y-you’re here!”

The aloof-looking girl transformed into a shy young lady upon facing me. Rona greeted me in her signature forced low voice.

“So, how’s life treating you?”

“…Are you seriously asking me that?”

It seemed the gyaru hadn’t entirely let go of her golden gyaru-oh days. She shot me a resentful look.

“After turning me into this…”

“Into that? You make it sound like I ruined your life.”

“Didn’t you…?”

“It’s normally called guidance. Or Rehabilitation.”

“The heck…”

“Think on your past life. Gaslighting, setting up a naked ambush at night to have a fun time, using love potions, casting mind controlling magic…”

“Th-that was…”

Rehabilitation had awakened a sense of morality in the tanned blonde.

Recalling her past misdeeds, Rona blushed and fidgeted, a sight unimaginable for the shameless playboy she once was.

“But look at you now. A contributing member of society, embracing the virtues of honest labor. How wholesome is that? Be proud of yourself.”

“Proud my ass…I was on the verge of 4th Rank, and now I’m a totally powerless wussy…”

Rona looked up at me cautiously.

“Wh-when are you going to give it back?”

“Give what back?”

“My power, obviously!”

“If you behave—is what I could say. But I’ll be honest. I don’t know how, Rona. I think you’re better off starting over.”

“…Can I…train?”

“Why’re you asking me?”

“Because you’re my master…”

“I never thought you’d be so obedient. Frankly, when I let you go independent, I thought you’d run.”

“B-but what if I ran and never got my power back…!”

“There’s no guarantee you’ll get it back even if you stay. Well, I don’t know. Do what you want.”

“…You’re letting me train then, okay? Don’t forget.”

Alright!

Rona clenched her fists, a satisfied look on her face.

“So. What’s up?”

“Eh?”

“Why’d you call me to the cafe? Want me to have a coffee?”

“No, it’s something else. Not that I can stop you if you want a drink before going…”

“What is it, then?”

“Oh! Here—”

Rona pulled a pouch from her pocket.

“This week’s wages…”

“Oh, right. Congrats on your first paycheck. That’s great.”

But she didn’t just show it to me. She offered it.

“…Okay, so why are you giving it to me?”

“You’re my master. I want you to decide my allowance.”

Rona waited for me to decide her allowance(?), her expression a mix of anticipation and worry.

My mind reeled. I never imagined I’d become the owner of an auto-hunting system.

“Hey, what’s with you!”

Suddenly, an urgent voice interrupted us.

Before I knew it, the cafe patrons were staring in our direction.

A man with glasses strode toward us, stopping in front of Rona as if shielding her from me. He seemed to be the one who called out to me.

“Miss Rona, are you alright? Did this person do anything strange to you?!”

The man asked Rona, his voice rising with a self-satisfied, heroic tone.

“…”

Rona’s timid demeanor instantly transformed as she retorted.

“What are you on about?”

“Huh?”

“Who asked for your help? And why are you helping anyway? Do you even know what he did to me?”

That aloof expression and low voice—suddenly, the golden playboy was back.

Apparently, his pride had been wounded by the man’s misguided attempt to protect her.

“No I, er—I thought he was bothering you, Miss Rona…”

“What do you know? This person is my—”

Rona paused, glancing at me.

“Acquaintance.”

It wouldn’t do to reveal her slave status here.

“…Yes, he’s my acquaintance.”

Rona beamed, echoing my words.

“An acquaintance…? Then why the money…?”

“Is there a problem? When it’s my money to give?”

Rona pressed on, emboldened.

Before I realized, the onlookers in the cafe had come closer and started murmuring among themselves.

“Did you see that? The aloof Miss Rona acting all shy in front of a guy.”

“Unbelievable. I never imagined she’d be living under a man’s thumb.”

Everyone was thoroughly entertained.

“Who is that guy…?”

“Miss Rona had a boyfriend…?”

Some looked shellshocked, as if they’d been NTRed. Rona’s popularity in the cafe seemed much higher than I’d thought.

“Taking her money, is he a pimp or something?”

Hang on, though. A pimp?

“Anyway, mind your own business.”

Rona glared at the man with glasses.

“…”

The four-eyes looked utterly defeated. He turned to head back inside, only to change his mind and leave the cafe entirely.

Somehow I felt like the bad guy here.

It was unsettling to see the despair on the faces of the men who believed they were NTRed of their gyaru-oh. But unlike me, Rona was unfazed.

“Sorry for dragging you into this mess.”

With an awkward, tentative smile, she took a few coins before handing me the whole money pouch.

“This is enough for me.”

“No, no, wait.”

I might’ve been short on funds, but it wasn’t bad enough for me to work an auto-hunt using a slave. Sure, I preferred fried chicken over plain grilled chicken breast, but happily taking her money would really make me look like a pimp.

Word would get around Bondalles.

“I mean, it’s your first paycheck so…okay?”

Rona’s eyes turned round with surprise as I returned the pouch.

“Thank you…”

“Why are you thanking me? Anyhow. I should get going before things get messier. If you need anything, you know where to find me, right? Just come over and say it.”

“…Didn’t you say I’m a slave?”

Rona giggled, giving a small wave while clutching the pouch tightly in her other hand.

Gadena stared ahead with a grim expression.

-…!!! ~!!

-~~!!! ~!~!!

-…! …!~ ~~!!!

He was witnessing something bizarre.

A group of timid elementals, usually wary of any approach, frolicked around the chair smothered in that human’s essence, completely oblivious to Gadena’s presence.

The elf’s pride was at stake. He refused to acknowledge the implications no matter what…but it seemed this wasn’t the time for pride.

The large man in black robes addressed him.

“Their movements have been detected in Bondalles. You must hurry, Gadena. No matter what happens, we must secure it before they do.”

“…”

After thinking hard, Gadena got up and prepared to leave the lab.

The man asked him.

“Where are you going?”

“The mage tower.”

“Mage tower?”

The man frowned. As far as he knew, no tower mage could surpass the elves in their understanding of elementals.

Gadena seemed to understand his reaction as he explained.

“Master Meltas knows someone who can help in this matter.”

“An elf we don’t know?”

“No. The human who made that chair.”

“…?”

The man stared at the ‘artifact’ containing mysterious power.

“You’re suggesting…that a human made that artifact?”

“…That is nothing like an artifact.”

“?”

Risir stood before a building, staring up at the sign.

[Draffon Adventurer’s Guild]

It was one of the most prestigious guilds in Bondalles.

Risir’s expression flickered with inner conflict. He let out a dry chuckle and shook his head. As someone who prided himself on being self-aware, he figured it was too wishful for a bastard like him to try building a career at a major corporation.

Without a second glance, he turned away from the Draffon Guild.

“The Dirt Boots Guild should be around here somewhere…”

According to his research, if Draffon was the undisputed top-tier guild, Dirt Boots was a borderline second-tier. He believed it might be within his reach.

As he was about to leave, however, a voice called out.

“Yo, mister. What’s up? Why are you leaving?”

“Hm?”

A friendly-looking woman approached him.

Her name was Kela, an adventurer from the Draffon Guild.

“Aren’t you here for our guild?”

“Ah, are you…?”

“Kela. Draffon Adventurer’s Guild.”

She offered her hand, her voice full of pride.

“Ah, I’m Risir. You’re from the Draffon Guild, huh. That’s impressive.”

“Hahaha, I won’t deny it. So, Risir, I’ll ask again. Here for our guild? Why turn back after making the trip all the way here?”

“Well…”

“If you have a quest for us, I can tell you, don’t even hesitate. Just go in. Draffon will never disappoint.”

“…Actually, it’s the opposite.”

“Opposite?”

“I was wondering if there were any quests for me.”

“…Ha!”

Kela’s laughter erupted a beat later as she processed his words.

“What, mister, you’re an adventurer?”

“Aspiring adventurer, to be precise.”

“Hmm…Not a good idea. Not good at all.”

“Is that so?”

Kela chuckled wryly, sizing Risir up. He appeared considerably fit. But with his delicate features and easygoing demeanor, he lacked the rough, violent edge adventurers needed.

“I’ve been in this business a while, you know? I can tell at a glance. My friend, you’re not cut out for this life.”

“Do I seem that way?”

“Oh! it’s a compliment by the way, not an insult. This adventurer business, you see, it’s not all romantic like the stories say. It’s a shithole. Kind of like a gutter where all sorts of bottom-feeders crawl.”

She gave him a friendly clap on the arm.

“It’s a job for those who have no other options. The way I see it, you don’t belong here. You look all fine and cute, and there’s even a refined air about you. I guarantee, you won’t last a week before running away screaming.”

“Is that so…?”

Though her advice was well-intentioned, it could easily come off as harsh.

Risir’s earnest contemplation only strengthened Kela’s resolve.

Ah! This guy is really hopeless!

She couldn’t just let this cute(?) guy rot in the gutter.

But just as she was about to continue persuading him…

“…”

Risir’s expression suddenly turned serious. Without a word, he walked into a nearby alley.

“Uh? Mister? Hey buddy! What’s going on?”

Worried, Kela followed him.

“…!”

After some minutes of walking, they came across a strange scene.

“A wolf?”

They found a young wolf surrounded by suspicious men completely covered in black robes.

“…”

The men heard them coming and turned around. After a brief standoff…one of them drew a strange-looking sword and charged at Risir.

He’s fast!

The man’s speed caught Kela greatly off guard. His movements suggested he might be a 3rd rank.

“Risir, get back!”

Kela drew her sword, ready to defend him. Even with her party members, this man would have been a tough opponent. This wasn’t a fight they could win.

We need to create an opening somehow and escape!

But just as Kela braced herself—Thwack!

A sudden gust of wind sent the attacker flying into a wall.

“Gah!”

The impact to his back and head knocked the air out of his lungs—and his consciousness along with it.

“…!”

“…!”

“…!”

Kela and even the other men couldn’t suppress their shock.

And in truth, Risir was just as bewildered.

Despite believing himself to be self-aware, he was wrong. His perception of his own abilities was significantly skewed.

Most people lacked the mana sensitivity needed to gauge someone’s rank with a mere glance. That was possible only for individuals like that one disguised master assassin, the shaman favored by a necromancer, the master mages of mage towers, that genius mage, or the centuries-old elf.

But after all the strange experiences he went through, Risir’s perception had become downright distorted.

The heck? Didn’t he come charging because he had something up his sleeve?

Risir had immediately assessed the attacker’s rank: the early 3rd rank. He’d assumed the man must have had some secret weapon to be so confident.

So, Risir immediately used his full strength, and well…

“Wha-what did you do?”

He was baffled.

Why would you attack so recklessly with such a huge gap in magical power?

“…”

The faces of the men in black crumpled.

---

CH 45

Despite her young age, Kela was a respected veteran adventurer who had started her career as a child. She had already amassed over ten years of experience, and was now nearing the 3rd rank.

As such, even most low-ranking Bondalles nobles treated her with a degree of respect, especially after learning she belonged to the prestigious Draffon Guild. So Kela was proud of her experience and discerning eye.

Based on those two factors, she’d judged Risir to be ordinary. Though he did possess aristocratic features, his gentle and unassuming demeanor didn’t fit the stereotype.

If she’d learned that he was a noble, and a 3rd rank like many nobles his age, she would have been surprised.

…But what if the reality was even more unexpected?

“M-magic…?! Risir, did you do that?!”

Kela seemed out of her element, acting far less like the seasoned adventurer she was.

Everyone’s perception of Risir shifted dramatically. His gentle demeanor now appeared to be a mask, hiding something extraordinary beneath it.

“Miss Kela.”

Risir called out to her.

“Yes? Ah, yes! Risir…sir! Please speak!”

She suddenly became deferential, addressing him as ‘sir’.

What’s with the sudden change?

Risir did find it odd, but he continued speaking.

“Do you know anything about these men?”

“No, sir! I don’t know myself. Who knows why they’re causing trouble in broad daylight…”

“…We! Have no business with you two!”

The man at the front of the group started shouting at them.

“If you have no intention of interfering, we won’t lay a hand on you! Leave now! And we’ll pretend this never happened!”

“Don’t you normally offer a handshake first, then resort to violence if it doesn’t work? You want it the other way round? I think you’re trying to make life a little too easy for yourselves.”

“…”

Despite his words, Risir was tempted. He’d expected trouble when he’d followed that ‘strange energy’ into the alley, but not such a straightforward confrontation.

Risir would gladly pretend this never happened, but unfortunately, he knew the world rarely worked that way.

These men had tried to silence him the moment they’d made eye contact in a secluded alley. Nothing would be more foolish than to trust their words.

Besides…

Risir’s gaze focused on something within the group.

That must be it.

One of the men was holding something out to the cornered wolf cub, a ring with an obsidian stone. It was the source of the strange energy.

Risir’s gut told him that if he turned a blind eye to that ring and those men, they were bound to stir up a huge shitstorm.

So, do let me normalize you all.

This was his most important reason. Normalizing such strangeness always resulted in a surge of magic power. With both opportunity and justification, there was no reason to back off.

“Miss Kela, what do adventurers usually do in this situation?”

“An attack on a guild member is an attack on the guild itself! The Draffon Guild would capture them and investigate their motives and identities!”

“So you intend to capture them and take them back to the guild?”

“Huh?”

“They just attacked you.”

“Uh…right…?”

“Good. Then I’ll assist you.”

“…Thank you?”

Eh? Hang on. Didn’t he enter the alley first? And wasn’t he the one who got attacked first too?

Despite her confusion, Kela quickly straightened up. Her adventurer’s instincts screamed at her not to let go of this connection with the eccentric Risir.

And more importantly, the men in black robes already seemed to have lost their fighting spirit.

“…”

The men exchanged glances, occasionally looking at their unconscious comrade. He was their leader, their strongest fighter.

They’d lost both their commander and their main combatant.

One of the men resolved himself to take action. He used all his strength to—sprint in the opposite direction.

Without looking back.

“Heh.”

Kela nodded approvingly.

Yeah, that’s the right call.

Running was, in her opinion, a perfectly logical decision.

But Risir saw things differently.

Damn it!

He hadn’t anticipated the possibility of the men fleeing. The enemies he’d faced so far were all fanatics who’d fight to the death.

He must be going for reinforcements!

The levels of these men in black ranged from 1st rank to 3rd rank. Risir wondered why they’d been surprisingly weak, but it seemed they had something up their sleeves after all. A larger force nearby.

The remaining men were likely stalling for time.

What if someone above 6th rank comes…! Then we’re really screwed!

If Kela could read his mind, she would have asked if he knew how rare those above 6th rank were.

Please be black mages! Then I have a chance!

If Kela could read his mind, she would have called him insane. A chance against black mages?

Risir grimaced, having conjured up the worst-case scenario with his skewed perception.

I might have gotten ahead of myself.

Even if he was confident about dealing with strange powers, jumping into this situation so readily was reckless. He admitted to being arrogant.

But just as he was reflecting…

“Damn it all!!!”

The remaining men suddenly started running. They’d taken Risir’s increasingly grim expression as a sign of imminent danger.

“…?”

Risir realized something was amiss and reassessed the situation.

From a different perspective, these men were far too pathetic to be scheming black mages.

“Those retards…!”

The man who’d been aiming the obsidian ring at the wolf cub froze, staring blankly at his fleeing comrades.

But just as he was about to join them…

“Gah!”

Risir finally realized what was happening and took action. Summoning a gust of wind to knock the man out, Risir then pursued the others.

“Aaaargh!!!”

“A-a tower mage?!”

“Please spare me!!!”

Risir’s extraordinary speed and unusual method of pursuit left them no chance. They were caught and subdued one by one.

“Huh…”

Having captured even the first to flee, Risir chuckled hollowly.

Is this really happening?

His distorted perception of reality screamed in confusion.

“Such skillful aspect magic…Is he actually at the 5th rank…? At that age?”

Observing from a distance, Kela let out a dry chuckle.

Am I seeing this right?

Her own grip on reality began to falter.

Meanwhile, Meltas was entertaining an unexpected guest in his lab.

“…So, you need Risir’s help to capture that young elemental?”

“Indeed.”

“Haha, Gadena, to think you’d need a human’s help with elementals of all things. What a sight. Live long enough, and you see everything.”

“…”

“So, what are you asking him to do? Capture the elemental with that elemental-friendly aura of his?”

Gadena shook his head.

“That’s impossible.”

“Impossible?”

“It’s an exceptionally hostile elemental, even towards life itself. Even we elves cannot go near. A direct approach would only increase its hostility.”

“Then?”

“That’s why I told you, I require that human’s essence. I need him to create a mana stone infused with his energy. I’ll compensate him handsomely.”

“Hmm…very well. I’ll speak to him. As it happens, I have business with Risir myself.”

Suddenly, as their conversation was coming to a close…

“Knock-knock.”

“?”

“?”

They heard knocking(?) from the open doorway.

Didoa stood there, miming a knock.

“Master Didoa…So it was you. Today as well?”

Didoa nodded.

“I was wondering if Risir dropped by.”

For the past few days, Didoa had been regularly checking Meltas’ lab for Risir.

Meltas replied with exasperation.

“If you have business with Risir, why not visit him directly? I’m sure I gave you his address.”

“But I have no business with him.”

“Fwot?”

“Wouldn’t it be offensive to visit him without any business?”

“…”

“So, if he happens to come here, could you subtly mention it to him, Master Meltas?”

“Mention that you’re looking for him?”

“That’s too direct. Wouldn’t he find it offensive?”

“…Then, well, what am I supposed to say?”

“I’ve been thinking. How about, ‘Master Didoa’s lab seems to have a lot of delicious snacks and tea’?”

“…Do you think Risir is a child?”

“Oh, should I add alcohol as well?”

“…Why don’t you try moving away from the idea of luring him with food?”

“Elixirs?”

“Good grief.”

Meltas shook his head at the socially inept—no, despairingly clueless half-demon.

“Ah.”

He suddenly remembered something and turned to Gadena.

“This works out perfectly, Didoa.”

“?”

“I seem to have acquired that ‘business’ you so wanted.”

“Business?”

“Could you find Risir in my stead and handle it?”

“!!!”

Didoa nodded enthusiastically, her messy hair bouncing.

“Well there you have it, Gadena. You can find Risir with her. I’m sure this is fine, since he should be able to create the mana stone on the spot.”

“…”

You’re telling me to travel with a half-demon?

Gadena shot Didoa a disgusted look.

Didoa responded with her usual impassive face.

“Thank you.”

“…?”

Shouldn’t you at least say hello instead?

Gadena was already starting to feel extremely exhausted.

“Let’s see.”

After subduing the men, Risir’s first priority was retrieving the obsidian ring.

Kela asked him.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s nothing much. It’s sort of like a ring of black magic.”

“…!”

Kela took a startled step back.

Remembering how the men had been harming the wolf cub using the ring, Risir shifted his attention to the small animal.

The cub was still lying quietly on the ground, staring at the obsidian ring.

It bared its teeth in a growl, not out of fear or aggression, but with something akin to longing.

Risir had a hunch about the nature of the ring’s power—the obsidian was drawing the cub in, appealing to its primal instincts.

Is it some kind of stimulant?

For an object imbued with magic, it was crudely made—almost like a mass-produced trinket.

Risir instinctively reached out to purify the obsidian’s aura, then stopped himself. This was evidence, after all. It needed to be preserved until the matter was resolved.

So, instead of the ring, he focused his normalization power on the wolf cub.

The cub abruptly transformed, its form rippling and expanding as it grew in size.

Before them now stood a delicate woman with wolf ears and a tail. She glanced around in surprise before breaking into a jubilant exclamation.

“Fuck yeah! Finally!”

“?”

Her coarse language clashed with her looks.

---

CH 46

“Oh my god! You turned a wolf into a human!!!”

“…”

Risir was speechless. Did she think he was some kind of magician?

Instead of correcting Kela’s misunderstanding, he turned to talk to the wolf cub—no, the beastkin woman.

“Ah…”

But suddenly, the woman went limp and collapsed unconscious. Her form shifted back into that of a wolf cub.

“D-did it… fail?!”

Fail what?

Risir ignored Kela and checked the cub’s condition.

Not like I’d understand anything just by look—Hm?

Surprisingly, he did understand something.

What is this?

If the wolf’s body were made of flesh and blood, Risir wouldn’t have sensed anything, as he was neither a veterinarian nor a doctor.

But the cub’s body was formed of mana. It was as if a physical shell had been placed over a core of mana. This allowed Risir to intuitively grasp the cub’s condition.

She’s cleansed, but weakened at the same time.

He placed his hand on the silent cub, and her expression softened noticeably. Twitching, she nuzzled against his hand, as if seeking more contact.

Remembering how he used to pet his dog, Risir scratched the cub’s neck and head, rubbed her belly, and patted her hindquarters.

The cub let out a contented whine.

“Oh.”

Risir noticed the cub’s energy growing stronger.

I don’t get why, but my energy seems to help.

After a moment’s thought, he scooped up the cub and held her in his arms.

The blue wolf cub whined and wriggled in his arms, searching for the most comfortable position. She finally settled on lying back and exposing her white belly. She closed her eyes and fell into blissful sleep.

As Risir observed the sleeping cub closer, a word came to him unbidden.

An elemental…?

He’d never seen or experienced an elemental directly, but he imagined this was what it would feel like.

“Wh-what did you do to the wolf?!”

Kela questioned him, her eyes wide with fascination. From her perspective, the whole thing had been a magical spectacle: a mage transforming a wolf into a human, then back into a wolf.

“I’m not sure, but I think the immediate danger has passed. I’m guessing it might be some kind of elemental.”

“Oh…! An elemental!!!”

“I’m not certain, though. It’s not my area of expertise. Do you know anything about this, Miss Kela?”

“I-I’m sorry…! I’ve never hunted an elemental before…!”

“Ah, so that’s how it is.”

“Yes! I apologize for not being of more help!”

“No need to apologize…”

Risir averted his gaze, a little flustered by the glitter of admiration in Kela’s stare.

He didn’t understand, but Kela’s reaction was perfectly understandable. Most mages treated adventurers like illiterate simpletons, dismissing them outright. If there was a race more arrogant and condescending than nobles, it was mages.

Kela had been on the receiving end of such treatment countless times, even from mages far less capable than Risir.

-I’m done.

-What happened?

-Would you even understand if I told you?

-…

That’s how the mages Kela knew would have reacted in this situation. But Risir, this genius mage, not only explained things patiently but even asked her opinion.

Kela grew anxious for no reason. If only she had a good answer. If only she could prove herself worthy of this mage’s respect!

Hoping for another opportunity(?), she focused all her attention on Risir.

Then a memory surfaced.

-I was wondering if there were any quests for me.

-My friend, you’re not cut out for this life.

Kela recalled their first encounter and went pale.

“I-I apologize, Lord Risir!”

“So suddenly?”

“When we first met…! I made such disrespectful remarks. I’m so ashamed!”

“What? Oh, it’s alright. Weren’t you just concerned about me?”

Kela was starting to feel afraid.

What is this? How can he be so un-mage-like?

Risir acted as if he’d stumbled into magic by accident, not like someone who’d lived his whole life as a genius mage.

In any case, Kela collected herself and made a suggestion.

“For now, let’s head back to the guild!”

The second-in-command of the Draffon Guild, Master Deputy Dupona, had a sharp gaze that belied the absence of her left eye, concealed by an eyepatch.

She unbraided her neatly styled blue hair, then re-braided it, finding the repetitive motion the only way to calm her nerves.

Inside, she grimly swore.

We’re fucked.

A low-tier adventurer of their guild had brought in a group of unconscious men and a mage. Apparently, the men had attacked the mage and the adventurer, so they retaliated.

That much was acceptable. In fact, it was great.

Adventurer guilds shared the City Council’s responsibility of maintaining order. So apprehending thugs who attacked people in broad daylight in back alleys? That was a clear plus for the guild.

Now, if that were the end of the story, Dupona would have commended Kela on a job well done and given her a sweet little bonus.

Unfortunately, the report continued.

Dupona prayed she’d misheard, or that the mage had misspoken.

“You are certain? These men might be connected to black mages?”

“Yes. They possessed an item of black magic.”

“…”

Black mages were a far greater threat than common thugs. Apprehending one and reporting it to the City Council would bring immense rewards, and even elevate the guild’s reputation. Hunting a black mage was a major plus.

Yet, Dupona couldn’t bring herself to celebrate. There was a good reason why such a hefty reward was offered for hunting black mages.

They were more difficult to deal with than any fiend or criminal. Even tower mages had limited knowledge of the dark arts, so what hope did adventurers have?

A wise adventurer would avoid any involvement with black mages.

Yet behold! She was being asked to sign off on a confrontation that had already happened.

Dupona glared at Kela, who stood beside her like a criminal who knew their wrong.

“I-I’m sorry…I never imagined they were connected to black mages…!”

Dupona lit a cigarette. It took a long drag to calm the furious twitch in her face.

She asked Risir again.

“You are certain? These men might be connected to black mages?”

“Isn’t that what you just asked?”

“Then, think of it as saving a life and try again. It’s possible they just stumbled across the item by chance.”

“That’s highly unlikely.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“They fully understood the item’s power and its purpose, which requires knowledge of black magic. However, they showed no other signs of using black magic themselves. Therefore, this is what I think—they were given the item by a third party and instructed on its use.”

“…”

Dupona stared at the obsidian ring on her desk, stunned.

He gleaned all that from just the ring?

All she could gather from observing the ring was that it was unusual, but this mage had deduced so much. As he’d said, using the ring required knowledge of the dark arts.

This type and depth of knowledge surpassed even the expertise expected of tower mages, which was why Dupona found it hard to trust him.

It wouldn’t be too late to compare after hearing her advice.

She decided to reserve judgment.

Soon, a new visitor arrived in Dupona’s office.

“I heard you summoned me.”

Her name was Kedgan. As a certified mage of the colored mage towers, she was one of the mages the Draffon Guild occasionally consulted for magical matters.

As far as Dupona knew, there were only a few masters above her in the Gray Tower who possessed deeper knowledge of black magic than Kedgan did.

She couldn’t be any more dependable in this situation. However…

Dupona suppressed a sigh. Tower mages, with their immense pride in their knowledge and abilities, rarely offered their services for free. She’d summoned Kedgan out of necessity, but the thought of the price she’d have to later pay already gave her a headache.

Dupona forced herself to explain the situation.

“So where is this ring of black magic?”

Kedgan picked up the obsidian ring and examined it closely.

“You got scared and called me for something so trivial?”

“Care to elaborate on why this is trivial?”

“I should be asking you. Why are you so wary of this random ring?”

Kedgan gave a small sneer.

Ah, there it is. It finally feels like I’m talking to a mage.

Dupona continued, feeling a sharp discomfort she hadn’t felt when talking to Risir.

“Another mage warned me. They said to be cautious of the power within this object, and to beware of whoever its true owner might be.”

“It’s such an ambiguous power that it’s hard to even define as black magic. This power has no effect on humans at all. Being so wary of this, that mage must be one of two things. Either a fool trying to deceive you, or an imbecile deceived by their own knowledge.”

Hearing that biting criticism, Dupona cast a cautious glance at Risir.

“Hm?”

Kedgan’s gaze followed hers, and Dupona cursed inwardly. A similar situation had occurred before.

-Heavens, are you serious?

-Which school do you all belong to? Or who is your master?

-Why can’t you answer?

-Don’t tell me…

-Oh wow.

-I’ll ask nicely. Will you please refrain from speaking of magic in my presence?

-I can’t stand being associated with ‘mages’ like you lot.

The Draffon Guild had called on several wandering mages for consultations, but Kedgan had snapped and ended up verbally slaughtering the lot of them.

Among mages, the reputation of a mage tower was absolute. To engage in a meaningful debate with a mage as prideful as Kedgan, one had to belong to a specific tower.

In fact, Kedgan had only ever had one proper conversation with a mage, and that mage had been from the Blue Tower. Of course, even then, she had torn the other apart with aggressive logic and tone.

“Is it you? The mage Miss Dupona was talking about?”

“That’s right.”

“I am Kedgan of House Sarorat. A formal mage of the Gray Tower, trained in the Teldran school. My master’s name is Kaldrine. And you?”

“I’m Risir.”

Dupona groaned inside, as his introduction was far too short. She shut her eyes tightly, already feeling guilty for what was about to happen.

Kedgan would surely latch onto Risir’s brief introduction and tear him limb from—

“Risir? Risir…I’ve heard that name…Ah! It was you! The one who exposed that wench Tulan!”

“…?”

Dupona was thrown into confusion. She’d never heard Kedgan speak in such a friendly tone. She didn’t even know the woman was capable of it.

But what came next was even more shocking.

Kedgan giggled awkwardly as she continued.

“Dupona, how could you? Trying to compare my opinion with Mr. Risir’s insights?”

“…?”

“Anyway, I have only one piece of advice regarding this matter. Follow Mr. Risir’s judgment completely.”

“…”

Thinking about how she had just criticized Risir in front of him, Kedgan flushed slightly as she showered the man with profuse praise, then hastily excused herself.

“…Is that really Miss Kedgan?”

Kela was dumbfounded.

“Where…”

A short while after Kedgan left, the captured men in black robes began to regain consciousness one by one.

“…!”

They were startled upon seeing Risir’s face, then again when they saw Dupona’s.

“W-wait! We don’t know anything! We were just following orders!”

Terrified, they volunteered information before any interrogation had even begun.

“Just following orders?”

“Yes! A few days ago, someone came to our guild and gave us a bunch of these obsidian rings—”

Just as they were about to spill everything…

“Urk!”

Their words were abruptly cut off as their throats tightened.

Dupona sprang from her seat.

“It’s hex venom!”

It was a method often used by demonoids to control their inferiors. They’d implant a venom that activated under specific circumstances, preventing betrayal.

Fortunately, alchemists had discovered the recipes and antidotes for most hex venoms.

Dupona began listing the antidotes she had prepared for such situations. She observed the symptoms closely, and tried to pick the appropriate antidote. However…

Dammit, what is this?! I’ve never even heard of this poison before.

Just as she was panicking, Risir spoke up quietly from the side.

“It’s nothing like venom. It seems to be a type of black magic. What a relief.”

“Black magic? This is a disaster—wait, what? Did you say relief?”

He’s relieved because it’s black magic?

Dupona’s mind struggled, and failed, to make sense of the idea.

“Hurk! Hurk! Hurk!”

Regardless, the men’s breathing returned to normal.

“What a relie—”

Dupona’s one eye wavered uncontrollably.

While Gadena had swallowed his pride and headed to the Gray Tower for help, another elf was doing much the same.

Draffon, the Guild Master of the Draffon Guild, was still reeling from shock. He had received a letter requesting a secret meeting, and when he reached the specified location, an unexpected figure greeted him.

“You are…”

A woman stood in front of a towering figure, who glared intently at Draffon. He immediately bowed his head before the immense pressure.

“I bow before the Bough of the World Tree.”

She hailed from Royeth, one of the ten Great Houses, rulers of the elves’ sacred land.

The Princess of the Grand Forest gazed down upon him.

“Draffon. I need your help in guiding a lost elemental in Bondalles. It won’t be easy. It’s a very shy child.”

The greatest adventurer of Bondalles had a feeling this would be no ordinary quest.

Meanwhile, a certain wolf cub was nestled in a chair, twitching in her sleep.

Risir gently stroked her fur, and the cub let out a happy sigh, rolling over with her belly up.

---

CH 47

-So, where can I find this Risir?

-Master Didoa knows. That’s why I assigned her to you. She’ll even handle the awkward human interaction for you, free of charge! Such a thoughtful guide! Go on, thank her.

-Thank you. Now I have a connection with Risir.

-Master Didoa, I meant that for Gadena.

-…

Gadena, having been assigned(?) Didoa by Meltas, waited for her at the mage tower entrance. She’d gone off to retrieve something essential.

A short while later…

“What is all that?”

Gadena stared in bewilderment at Didoa, who emerged carrying a large bundle. Was she planning to set up a makeshift laboratory at Risir’s place?

“They’re presents.”

Didoa replied with her usual impassive face.

“Presents?”

“I thought Risir would be offended if I came empty-handed.”

“…”

Gadena decided to avoid further inquiries about this Risir-obsessed half-demon. He walked ahead, leaving Didoa to struggle with her bundle.

“We have somewhere to stop by before going to his place.”

“Stop by?”

“I intend to join my companions there. Be warned, they are of high standing, so watch your manners.”

“Won’t they be offended by me being a half-demon?”

“They’re quite tolerant. So long as you don’t cause any trouble, you’ll be fine.”

That was all he needed to say.

Gadena quickened his footsteps, putting distance between himself and Didoa. As an elf, he instinctively recoiled from the half-demon’s dark aura.

“Mr. Gadena.”

But Didoa sped up, keeping pace with him.

“Master Didoa, let me take this chance to be frank. Your half-demon presence is unpleasant to me. As I have no confidence in treating you normally, I recommend you keep the distance, if only for your own sake.”

“Oh, I’m fine. I’m used to people disliking me.”

Didoa was clearly being genuine. She continued speaking, unfazed by his dismissive attitude.

“Mr. Gadena. By hance, are you familiar with visiting a friend’s house?”

“I don’t understand your question.”

“This is my first time. Visiting Risir’s place is…my first time ever visiting a friend’s house. So I wanted to ask, do you happen to have any advice? I want to make a good impression.”

“…”

Apparently thrilled about this first-time experience, Didoa chattered incessantly. Risir this, Risir that.

By the time Gadena was seriously considering magically sealing either his ears or her mouth, they arrived at his lab.

“Master Didoa, you are to wait outside. Your presence may contaminate my lab.”

“Okay.”

Didoa accepted being shut out at the door without any question or complaint. She was far too used to it.

A short while later, Gadena emerged from the workshop with company.

They were Princess Lafita Ye Royeth of the Grand Forest, cloaked in a luxurious black robe; her hulking knight escort, Gondola; and Draffon, the master adventurer with a large scar across his face.

Gondola scowled at Didoa.

“Why is a half-demon here?”

“She is Master Didoa of the Gray Tower. She’ll be mediating as Risir’s acquaintance.”

“Risir would be the human you mentioned? But a human who associates with a half-demon…are you sure about this, Gadena?”

“…”

Gadena hesitated, unsure how to answer in the face of Gondola’s blatant aversion.

Though he was typically blunt about his prejudice against humans, he was, in truth, considered relatively progressive among elves. After all, he lived in a human city and, even if only minimally, did interact with them.

Gondola was different.

A high-ranking figure in the Grand Forest, the sacred homeland of the elves, he held a conservative mindset befitting his status. He placed great value on his identity as an elf.

In contrast, Gadena, though discriminatory and disdainful toward humans, still saw them as beings of equal standing. But Gondola considered other races inferior to elves. And among them, he particularly despised the half-demons with their dark aura.

Having endured enough, Gondola erupted in a burst of frustration.

“Frankly, I am still skeptical. Relying on a human? Is this really the best course of action?”

“Gondola.”

Lafita’s voice calmed him.

“How disrespectful, to act this way in front of those who are here to help us.”

“…My apologies.”

Lafita bowed politely to Didoa.

“Master Didoa, was it? I’m sorry. Gondola has a slightly emotional side to him, you see.”

“It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

Lafita nodded, satisfied, and cast a sweeping glance across the others.

“We seem to be all here. Shall we depart? Oh, Draffon?”

“Please speak.”

Lafita had entrusted Draffon with capturing the elemental and lent him the artifact, the Blue Veil, which purified the wearer’s aura. She’d lent this elven treasure to a human to prevent his impure aura from affecting the elemental.

“Once again, I must remind you—this cloak is a treasure of ours, the elves. It carries the sacred energy of the World Tree. So, I kindly ask that you handle it with the utmost care.”

“…”

Draffon quickly understood her unspoken message. He removed the Blue Veil he’d been wearing since trying it on and placed it back in the container Lafita had provided.

As the elven princess wished, he wouldn’t taint the elven treasure with his impure human essence.

“Thank you.”

Lafita acknowledged his understanding with a graceful nod.

“Now, let us depart.”

Throughout the journey, Lafita maintained a firm distance from the half-demon and human.

Lafita Ye Royeth was abysmally miserable.

Not only did I end up lending the Blue Veil to a human, but now I’m traveling with a half-demon…

She lamented her situation of being forced to live in a filthy human city, having to cater to the whims of such inferior beings.

At first, she was hit with waves of self-loathing at every passing moment. But now, all she could do was wish for this horror to end as soon as possible. If she could only get her out of this dreadful place and return to the Grand Forest, Lafita was willing to do anything.

To calm herself, she invoked her image as part of her ritual. She was a blessed being, gifted with the greatness of the Wolf King and the High Elemental of Wind.

Half-elemental Feryn.

She didn’t belong in such a filthy place. She was worthy of entering the deepest part of the Grand Forest, the most sacred place in the world, and receiving the World Tree’s divine blessing.

Even now, Feryn must be suffering more of this filthy city’s taint…

Lafita’s anxiety grew, prompting her to pressure Draffon.

Naturally, she never forgot to maintain the noble dignity of an elf in her outward manner.

“After recruiting the suitable candidates currently on standby at the guild, I will meet the man named Risir, receive the mana stone, and immediately begin the pursuit.”

“…”

Lafita sighed inwardly at the mention of Risir, the human recommended by Gadena.

Was this truly the right course of action? Using a human’s energy to lure that child?

Gadena was an exceptional expert, but he often had a soft spot for matters involving humans, and Lafita didn’t trust his judgment on this.

As the worries piled on, Lafita realized that, before she knew it, she had followed Draffon into his guild’s building.

Draffon led her to the office of the guild’s deputy master, Dupona, explaining that the first person they would meet was there.

The moment Lafita stepped into the office, she couldn’t believe her eyes.

“Feryn!”

The filthy human’s structure, the filthy humans around it—it all became irrelevant. In her line of sight, only the beloved wolf mattered.

Lafita rushed to Feryn, who was resting in a human’s arms. She lay on her back, happily yipping.

How is this person in contact with Feryn?

Lafita briefly felt something was off, but she quickly dismissed it. Right now, she just wanted to enjoy this joyous reunion.

“Come here!”

But just as Lafita reached out to take Feryn from the human’s arms…

-…!

The wolf cub suddenly bit her hand in fury.

“Uhh no, that’s not food!”

The man holding Feryn, Risir, was startled. He quickly separated her from Lafita.

-…

Feryn went back to resting in his arms, calm again as if nothing had happened.

“…”

Lafita could only gape in confusion, unable to process what just happened.

---