Chapter 158
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 158
The Northern Royal Family's Legacy was different from the Imperial Magical Artifacts.
While it did include some suits of armor and weaponry, the majority of it consisted of materials that required processing and research. There were all sorts of rare, mystical herbs, metal ingots forged with ancient techniques, and countless magic books and blueprints for crafting magical artifacts.
Aside from the few pieces of equipment, there was nothing that could provide an immediate boost in power.
However, unlike the Imperial artifacts whose very structures were a mystery, these allowed for the reconstruction of lost ancient legacies—provided one could conduct proper research. It was a perfect foundation that, given enough time, could establish a base of power rivaling the Empire in its golden age.
“Until now, I’ve kept it hidden to avoid the Imperial family’s scrutiny, but now that I’ve revealed it openly, there is nothing they can do. I intend to begin the research in earnest.”
“Won’t the other lords covet it? The fact that the Imperial family has remained silent means there is no longer any way to prevent territorial wars,” Raymond voiced his concern.
Lucian let out a short, dry laugh.
“If they want it, let them come and try to take it. Though I doubt anyone would dare make a move when they can’t even tell friend from foe.”
The age of chaos had already begun.
In a situation where one couldn’t even trust the ally at their back, who would attempt an expedition all the way to the North just because they coveted the royal legacy? It was obvious that the moment they weakened their own military presence, they would be attacked from all sides.
“In fact, as time passes and the lines between ally and enemy become clearer, they will eventually have the leeway to turn their eyes toward the North. This period of uncertainty, when no one knows who to trust, is the perfect time to go public with the legacy.”
“I understand. Then, whom do you intend to appoint as the heads of each research field?”
“Ian will naturally handle the herbs. We don’t have a suitable candidate for metallurgy yet, so we’ll have to look for one slowly. As for matters related to magic…”
Lucian’s gaze shifted toward Marius.
Marius bowed his head, trying his best to act as if he hadn't noticed, but he couldn't hide the trembling in his arms. Lucian watched him with a stoic expression before speaking in a low voice.
“Marius.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“I’ve heard that you handled your recent tasks quite well.”
“It was only possible thanks to the help of my two disciples. I would have struggled on my own.”
“Enough with the humility. I sent them along specifically so you could use them. In fact, if you had tried to handle everything alone, I would have scolded you for taking them along for nothing.”
“I am humbled.”
“Therefore, as a reward, I intend to appoint you to the position of Chief Mage.”
Marius’s eyes snapped wide as he reflexively jerked his head up.
He had certainly mentioned wanting the position of Chief Mage in the North. Given his skills, it was a position he could naturally aspire to. However, because of his past transgressions, he had resigned himself to the idea that he would, at best, work in a rank lower than his own disciples.
“Yo—Your Grace.”
“I shouldn't need to say this, but this is your last chance. If you pull any more nonsense, you truly will spend the rest of your days in a corner deciphering magic books.”
“Thank you! Thank you so much!”
Tears streamed down Marius’s face.
How he had fretted, fearing he would end up as a master who merely rode the coattails of his disciple, the Chief Mage. He didn't know how much longer his lifespan would hold out, but he would at least leave behind the name ‘Chief Mage of Asagrim.’ It felt as if a lifeline had been lowered to him from the depths of hell.
“Colin, I must apologize to you. It seems I’ve taken back the position of Chief Mage that was yours.”
“Not at all. I am merely grateful for Your Grace’s mercy in looking after my master.”
Colin offered his thanks to Lucian with sincere gratitude.
Deep down, Colin had felt pity, fearing his master might pass away in despair without achieving anything. But now, by yielding his position, his master could leave behind at least a modicum of a legacy. It put Colin’s mind at ease.
Lucian had a rough idea of what Colin was thinking, but as a lord, he intended to compensate him as much as possible. Even if Colin was satisfied, the fact remained that Lucian had taken back something he had already given.
“Once Marius steps down from the position, I will return it to you immediately. Furthermore, regardless of what title you hold in the future, your treatment will be equal to that of the Chief Mage. I hope that suffices.”
“Suffices? It is far more than I deserve.”
Lucian nodded as he saw Colin, who was surprised yet unable to hide his smile.
The final bit of anxiety seemed to have vanished from the young mage, replaced by the warmth of Lucian’s consideration. Having finished the preliminary personnel appointments, Lucian pulled the royal key from his breast pocket.
It was time to show the world proof that the Northern Royal Family's Legacy truly existed.
“What? Duke Lucian revealed the Northern Royal Family's Legacy?”
“Wait, are you saying no one knew such a thing was hidden beneath White Castle for a thousand years?”
“More importantly, how did the Duke even find it? I heard he had no contact with his maternal family!”
The Empire was turned upside down once again as the news of the legacy broke.
A legacy left by a royal family from a millennium ago—and not just magical artifacts used without understanding their principles, but the very foundational technology behind them. It meant that if researched properly, they could mass-produce magical artifacts in the modern era.
“Dammit, is there nothing we can do? It’ll be dangerous if we keep giving him time like this.”
“What do you mean, ‘do something’? Are you suggesting we launch an expedition to the North?”
“The very act of hiding the royal legacy from the Imperial family all this time is a crime. If we form an allied force…”
“The Imperial family is staying silent! How can we form an alliance without a central figure?”
“And where do you get the confidence that we’d even win? Have you forgotten that our opponent is the Conqueror of the North?”
The lords discussed a Northern expedition for a brief moment, but the talk quickly died down.
Since the Imperial family was failing to act as a rallying point, it was difficult to form an allied force, and above all, the opponent’s strength was formidable. Lucian held White Castle—an iron fortress—and commanded the elite former Imperial troops as well as the Blue Rose Knight Order.
On top of that, he had recently filled the population of Asagrim with Northern barbarians.
A reckless attack wouldn't lead to victory; it would likely result in a defeat so crushing it would signal the start of their own downfall.
Once the lords realized the reality of the situation and gave up on war, it was the scholars and artisans who stepped forward next.
“Dozens of species of herbs thought to be extinct are in Asagrim? And not just a few specimens, but seedlings that can be cultivated? I’m going right now!”
“I’m too old to dream of forging legendary weapons. But if I can at least smelt the metals that only appeared in old fairy tales with these hands…”
“Let’s go to Asagrim. To revive our fallen school, we have no choice but to rely on those magic books. If we’re lucky, we might catch the Duke’s eye.”
Independent researchers who were fed up with the corrupt Alchemist Guild.
Blacksmiths who wished to leave behind an immortal reputation before they died.
And even unauthorized mages belonging to fallen schools.
Those who wished to see the ancient legacy with their own eyes flocked to Asagrim. Among them were many mediocrities who overvalued their own abilities, but there were also true talents mixed in.
Malcolm the blacksmith was one of them.
“Heh… Hehehe. Hahaha.”
Sitting in his dilapidated smithy, Malcolm chewed over the stories he had heard in the marketplace today.
The news that Red-Gold Stone, White Star Iron, and even Fairy Light—metals whose smelting methods had long since vanished—had appeared in the North.
“How can this be? How can this be possible?”
Legendary metals that, while perhaps not matching Adamantium in strength, were used in all manner of magical artifacts.
Malcolm muttered those names repeatedly before staggering toward a corner of his smithy. He picked up a bundle of books he had kept piled away with some kind of kindling.
They were books passed down through generations of his ancestors, detailing the smelting methods for those ancient metals that had disappeared long ago.
“If only this had happened sooner. If only it had come out when I was a bit younger…”
Hot tears rolled down Malcolm’s cheeks.
How many times had he been mocked, told it was pathetic to cherish useless smelting methods like they were treasures? Even after becoming an adult, he had vowed several times to use them as fire-starters, yet he could never bring himself to throw them into the flames.
To think the day would actually come when these books, which had been passed down as nothing more than lingering regrets, would actually be used.
Malcolm stood lost in thought for a moment before he heard the sound of his son running toward him.
“Fa—Father! They say the Northern Royal Family's Legacy in Asagrim is…!”
“I know.”
Malcolm stood up, cutting his son off with a short reply.
Now that his path was clear, there was no need for long explanations.
“Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“To Asagrim.”
“…!”
“Grab your hammer and pack your bags.”
“Yes, sir!”
Malcolm heard his son dash off with a spirited shout.
At his age, he had no desire to boast about the greatness of his ancestors. He simply wanted to recreate the smelting methods they had left behind with his own hands.
Only then could he prove that his ancestors hadn't spent their lives clinging to a hollow hope.
A short while later, Malcolm and his son set off for Asagrim, carrying with them smelting methods that hadn't been used for ages.
“This is good.”
Viscount Harald couldn't hide his smile every time news of Lucian reached him lately.
Not only had Lucian completely crushed and absorbed the House of Calix, but he had also subjugated the barbarians beyond the snowfields to fill Asagrim. On top of that, he had gained the leverage to interfere with the Imperial succession using the First Prince as a pretext, and now he had even revealed the Northern Royal Family's Legacy.
I realized he was an extraordinary man from the moment I first met him, but now I can’t even guess how high he will climb.
All Harald had hoped for was for Lucian to revive the old royal family and restore order to the North. Even that would have been enough to be called a hero’s work, and it was hard to ask for more.
However, Lucian’s achievements were far exceeding Harald’s expectations.
Just where would that hero eventually stop?
If possible, Harald wanted to live long enough to see Lucian’s final destination with his own eyes.
For when he finally halts his steps, the House of Osgor and my son, Thorkel, will be right there by his side.
It was just as the smiling Harald was tilting his glass once more.
A servant approached with a hurried expression and whispered into Harald’s ear.
“My Lord, Viscount Lesta has arrived.”
“What?”
Harald blinked at the unexpected visitor.
Wasn't Viscount Lesta a friend of his son, Thorkel? A young lord who had ousted his father for siding with Calix and had since given Lucian his absolute support. Harald had heard he was doing quite well lately, earning Lucian’s trust by escorting retainers and handling various tasks.
“Did the Viscount come in person, without even sending a messenger?”
“Yes. He arrived in secret and requested to meet as quietly as possible.”
“Well, now.”
If it were a lord who had once been allied with Calix, even a small meeting would be scrutinized. But Harald and Lesta were among those who had supported Lucian enthusiastically from the start. Now that Lucian had conquered the North, they had nothing to fear even if they met openly, yet Lesta had come in secret.
It felt a bit suspicious, but since they were of the same faction and he was his son’s friend, Harald couldn't just turn him away.
“Lead the guest to the drawing room and dismiss the servants. A precious guest has arrived; I shall attend to him personally.”