Chapter 103
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 103
In short, it meant he had no sense of camaraderie with his own kind, so Lucian should feel free to use them and cast them aside as he saw fit.
It was a cold-blooded sentiment, but in a way, it was a wise survival strategy.
The foundation for the mages' revival had only just been laid. In such a situation, what would happen if they started forming a faction, shielding even the incompetent just because they were "fellow mages"?
‘The rebellion from three hundred years ago would just repeat itself.’
These were people who had been persecuted for ages despite possessing the talent to perform miracles. Even a low-level mage with pathetic skills was bound to develop a sense of entitlement once they were finally acknowledged. It wouldn't be strange if they tried to use Colin, the first to be appointed, as a focal point to start making demands.
Colin was drawing a firm line against potential future instability.
‘Good.’
Lucian didn't know if these were carefully chosen words for the sake of politics or a genuine sentiment. However, either way, Lucian was more than satisfied. It was a declaration of loyalty to Lucian as an individual, rather than as a member of a collective group of mages. It meant that even if someone were a fellow mage, Colin would cut them down himself if they became a hindrance to Lucian.
“Your title shall be Chief Mage.”
“...!”
“If you know your history, you know what that position entails. Or do you need an explanation?”
“No, no, sir!”
In his haste to answer, Colin bit his tongue and writhed in pain. Even as tears pricked his eyes, the title Lucian mentioned echoed in his mind.
‘Chief Mage.’
It was a title seen only in Great Families of the rank of Marquis or higher—houses that employed a large number of mages three hundred years ago. It was a position that oversaw all employed mages and represented the pinnacle of magic within that house. Even the Imperial Family, the only place where mages remained, had abolished the position of Chief Mage long ago.
‘Is this really okay? If I take the position of Chief Mage just because I was first in line, the mages who come after me will be incredibly resentful.’
Feeling a sudden surge of anxiety, Colin stammered out his concerns.
“Your Highness... I apologize, but the position of Chief Mage is usually selected through skill and competition....”
“Are you not confident in your skills?”
“How could that be! I am a Magister, believe it or not!”
“Magister?”
“It refers to the hierarchy of mages. We progress from Apprentice, where our aptitude is tested, to Disciple, then to Mage, Magister, and finally Magus.”
It was a term Lucian had never heard before. Was there such a thing? Then again, humans were prone to ranking themselves based on skill. Even knights, whose levels of mastery were often vague, used titles like Sword Saint; it made sense that mages would have something similar.
“What’s the difference?”
“It’s complicated if you dive deep into it... but simply put, you can think of a Mage as a beginner, a Magister as an expert, and a Magus as a master.”
Lucian tilted his head at Colin’s explanation. If taken literally, a Magister was merely an "expert." He wondered how Colin could be so confident in securing the Chief Mage position through skill when he wasn't even a "master."
Seeing the doubt in Lucian’s eyes, Colin let out a sigh.
“Your Highness, the witch hunts lasted for three hundred years. Nowadays, most schools don't even have the minimum knowledge left to be recognized as a single mage.”
“Ah, I see.”
Indeed, in a world where swordsmanship styles had nearly vanished, someone who completely mastered even a second-rate style would be treated like a Sword Saint. Had Colin, an "expert," become one of the few elite powerhouses in this era? If anything, it was the Celestial School that was impressive for somehow preserving that much knowledge until now.
“Anyway, I’m glad you’re confident. You should be able to suppress any dissenters with your skill.”
“That is true, but....”
“If you’re that worried, drink this.”
Lucian pulled the Nectar from his robe and shook it in front of Colin. Colin flinched at the sight of the faintly glowing liquid.
“W-what is that?”
“Nectar.”
“A grand name. It is as beautiful as the name suggests, though.”
“Before I give this to you, let me ask one thing. I heard mages use mana for their spells as well. Is medicine that is good for a knight also good for a mage?”
“Of course it is.”
Colin gave a bitter smile at Lucian’s question.
“The reason mages don't learn magic and swordsmanship simultaneously isn't because they clash. It's because a human lifespan isn't long enough to master both, and constantly switching between manipulation methods causes confusion.”
“Then what if there was a potion that could vastly widen the paths of mana without the need for a knight’s circulation?”
“That would be a miracle potion. It would make mana manipulation effortless without causing the user any confusion. Every mage would go wide-eyed and scramble for it. Well, not that such a potion could actually exist.”
Lucian smirked and handed him the Nectar. Taking it reflexively, Colin looked at Lucian with a bewildered expression.
“Just what kind of potion is this that you’re being so dramatic about?”
“A miracle potion.”
“Pardon?”
“Just drink it. And while you’re at it, think about how you can be of use to me as my Chief Mage.”
Leaving only those words behind, Lucian departed from the guest room. Colin stared at the Nectar with suspicious eyes for a moment before finally opening the cap and draining the potion.
A moment later, a sound—somewhere between a roar and a scream—echoed through the room.
*
Upon hearing the news that Glen had returned to the capital, the Northern nobles began preparing to depart. Now that the Inspector, the representative of the Imperial Family, had left, there was no point in staying any longer to gather information.
Above all else, Norbeck, who was now fueled by pure spite, had successfully escaped from prison.
‘If I leave my territory vacant for too long, there’s no telling what that old man might pull.’
‘It would be better if he were openly hostile. If he approaches under the guise of friendship, it’ll only cause unnecessary misunderstandings.’
‘I’ve gathered all the information I can. It’s time to head back and plan my next move.’
Lucian did not stop the departing nobles. The power dynamic of the North had been decided, and they had accepted that fact. Since they recognized Lucian as the undisputed victor, there was no reason to force them to stay.
‘A lot of unexpected things happened in the middle, but it ended quite well.’
He had squeezed everything he could out of the Emperor, and communication had been cut off at the perfect time. Even with a few deviations, he had achieved his ultimate goal.
Lucian was smiling at the satisfying result when—
SLAM!
“My Lord!”
“W-we have a problem!”
His three retainers burst through the door, their faces pale with shock. Lucian looked at them with a sour expression. He could understand Hugo and Raymond, but even Felicia was reacting this way?
“What on earth happened?”
“The Sword Saint... Sir Eisen is on his way here!”
“What?”
Lucian bolted upright before he realized it. Sword Saint Eisen Brightner was coming to the North?
When he turned his head in disbelief, a pale Felicia nodded.
“It’s not just a rumor; there are too many eyewitness accounts. It seems my father is truly coming here.”
“But why?”
“I’m not sure. The rumors say he’s coming to see me, but....”
Lucian nodded as Felicia’s voice trailed off. The Eisen they knew was a man who loathed commotion and empty formalities. If he were truly coming just to see Felicia, he would have come quietly. There was no reason to cause such a massive stir.
Yet, he was making his presence known and broadcasting his destination.
“It’s one of two things. Either someone forced him to, or Sir Eisen himself decided it was necessary.”
“The former is impossible. The only person who could give orders to the Sword Saint was the Grand Duke, and he has passed away.”
“True. Then it must be the latter, but what could have happened to make him....”
Lucian’s face hardened as he spoke. The other retainers seemed to have reached the same conclusion, as they all froze in unison. There was only one reason the Sword Saint would turn his back on the family he had served so loyally.
‘Treason.’
If he judged the new master to be unworthy of his service, even the Sword Saint would leave. The problem wasn't the Sword Saint’s judgment, but the time it took for him to reach the North. It was far too fast for a rebellion to have occurred and for the disillusioned Sword Saint to have already reached the vicinity of the North.
Unless Jordi had realized Sigmund’s death at almost the same time Lucian had....
“Jordi, you son of a bitch.”
Lucian clenched his fists until they cracked. His suspicion had turned into certainty.
Raymond, Felicia, and Hugo shared similar reactions. To varying degrees, they were all people who owed a debt of gratitude to the Grand Duke. To think that the Grand Duke had died because of his own son’s schemes.
“Ah, the Second Young Master. You really are....”
Raymond couldn't finish his sentence, his eyebrows twitching. Having served under Grand Duke Sigmund for the longest time, his rage seemed particularly deep.
Lucian suppressed his boiling blood and spoke.
“When the day comes to kill that bastard Jordi, I’ll give you one of his limbs. But for now, let’s focus on the matter at hand.”
“...Yes. Waiting for that day will be a fine diversion in its own right.”
“Wine and revenge only get better with age.”
Using various excuses, Lucian and his group pushed the topic of Jordi aside for the moment. Venting their anger now would have no effect on the man. Rather than wasting time cursing him, it was more important to confirm what he had done to the family.
‘I should send someone ahead to check.’
If they waited for the Sword Saint to arrive while being greeted and hosted by everyone along the way, it would take forever. They needed to send someone first to get the news.
“Hugo, you go out to meet Sir Eisen.”
“Me!? Why me!?”
Hugo pointed at himself, looking dumbfounded. Why him, when a knight who had served in the same house and the Sword Saint’s own adopted daughter were right there?
“I-I’ve never even had a proper conversation with Sir Eisen!”
“But you’ve talked to everyone else around him.”
“Pardon? What do you mean by that?”
“I mean, check if Hans and Ian are with him. And the rest of the boys who were under your command.”
“...!”
Hugo’s eyes widened as he understood Lucian’s meaning.
“Do you really think those guys are with Sir Eisen?”
“Probably. I don’t know if both are there or just one of them.”
There was no other reason for Eisen to cause such a commotion. Even in his old age, Sword Saint Eisen was a superhuman capable of taking on an entire knight order alone. He wasn't someone a person like Jordi could easily handle.
"If Sir Eisen were alone, he would have come quietly. Whether they sent pursuers or tried some trickery, he could have just carved his way through with his sword."
Yet, Eisen was spreading his name far and wide. He was drawing everyone's attention with the commotion and using his reputation to prevent anyone from trying anything foolish. If he was doing this when he had no reason to fear anyone's schemes, it meant he was carrying "baggage."
‘The only ones who would be baggage to Sir Eisen are the people who were under my command.’
He would leave the choice to the other knights, and he had no reason to save the other servants. Lucian could only guess that Hans or Ian were with Eisen. It was just a guess, of course, and he wouldn't know for sure until he checked.
"That’s why I’m sending you. You’re the only one who can accurately count how many of them are with Sir Eisen."
"I-I see."
Indeed, Hugo was the perfect person for the job. Raymond was a knight by birth and didn't remember the faces of all the servants, and Felicia had only recently become a retainer. Only Hugo could accurately identify who had been rescued and who had been left behind.
As Lucian was about to finalize the orders, a thought suddenly occurred to him.
‘Wait, then what happens to Thorkel and Lesta, whom I sent ahead?’
He had sent them to provide escort once his retainers, including Hans and Ian, found their way. But the very people they were supposed to protect might be traveling safely by the Sword Saint’s side. In that case, far from fulfilling their mission, they might be mistaken for just more onlookers who had come to see the Sword Saint.
“...If that’s the case, I’ll have to offer them some words of comfort when they return.”
Lucian muttered to himself, recalling the image of Lesta running off with sparkling eyes.