Chapter 16
Chapter 16
The conference hall was silent.
No—more precisely, it only appeared silent. As the robed figure from the eastern side clasped his hands together, the air began to tremble faintly.
Invisible cracks spread through the air as if slicing it apart, and thin blue currents flickered above the round stone table.
"Lord Targon, what do you think you're doing right now?!"
Canis’s tail stiffened.
It wasn’t just her—Lups lowered her stance, growling as she glared at the robed man.
"What am I doing? Isn’t it obvious? After being humiliated like this, how could the East save face?"
"..."
"A shut-in who just produces monsters… Everyone’s been pampering you too much, that’s why you’re acting so clueless about the world, aren’t you?"
The man called Targon spoke with a smile, but it was pitiful.
At that output, he probably couldn’t even burn the robe Belial had given me.
Doing something like that in a public setting—wasn’t that just embarrassing?
"Canis, Lups."
"Both of you, stay still. I’m fine."
At my quiet words, their sharp tension faltered.
Canis still clenched her fist, wary of Targon’s mana, but soon let out a short sigh and lowered her stiff tail.
Lups also snorted in dissatisfaction. She straightened her body, which had been coiled as if ready to pounce, and sat back down, though her low growling didn’t stop.
After confirming the two had calmed down, I lifted my head and looked at Targon again.
"Your experience with magic seems short."
Pathetic. Despite his confident expression, his level was utterly miserable.
As if proving it, Asmodeus shut his eyes tightly, as though unable to bear watching, and said nothing.
And honestly, I understood him.
‘In any era, self-promotion is important.’
Back when I was human, even though mages were a popular profession in the Kingdom of Lugniss, the path into it was extremely narrow.
Because of that, if one didn’t get a chance through official exams or institutions, they had to struggle like this just to gain recognition.
"Haha! Have you gone mad from fear? I’m the mage who made a name for himself across the eastern plains for 200 years! And you dare question my experience?"
He proudly introduced his career, but if that was his level after 200 years, that was a serious problem.
How could someone still be stuck at a level a beginner could reach in two years?
Just how untalented was he…
‘…What a pity.’
Even the alliance leader, who seemed to be Targon’s superior, simply watched the whole scene without reacting.
Rather, he seemed more interested in me, not taking his eyes off me.
‘Sigh.’
Still, watching the shabby glow of the so-called "Spear of Lightning," which should have emitted a brilliant flash upon casting, I could understand the leader’s reaction.
If it was going to be like that, he should’ve just used the lower-tier Lightning spell instead…
At this point, it was painful just to watch.
‘…Should I help a bit?’
He had probably never received proper magical training. That’s why his output was so pitiful.
I knew better than anyone how painful it was to lack opportunities to learn.
Back when I was human, the neighborhood brats used to mock me as a fool.
I was forty at the time. Losing my hair, crying so bitterly—I had never felt that miserable before or since.
"Mana aside, the structure is the real problem."
"What…?"
With a light wave of my hand, the air subtly shifted.
It was nothing special. I simply poured mana into the magical circuit formed by his incantation.
The loose connections tightened, and the scattered output compressed into a single point.
The current thickened. Blue lightning flashed sharply through the air.
"W-What is this?!"
Targon panicked and tried to cancel the spell, but that wouldn’t teach him anything.
The density of mana rapidly increased.
"It’s better not to try canceling. If you break it before the circuit stabilizes, the mana will just backflow and cause more pain."
"Sh-shut up! Right now, I’ll—"
He gritted his teeth, but learning always comes with pain.
I had already fixed the circuit in place. With his lack of skill, trying to break it would only increase the pain.
It was far better to release it once properly and learn the sensation.
I reinforced the circuit even further.
"Stay calm. Feel it with your body. That’s how you improve."
Targon twisted violently as if struggling, and his robe slipped off.
As expected—horns on a bull’s head. A balrog.
A race known for magical aptitude… which made this even more unfortunate.
"Stop! Stop it!!!"
He screamed, drenched in cold sweat.
He was clearly overwhelmed by the unintended surge of mana.
But once he adapted, he’d definitely reach a more respectable level than before.
"I-Igripa!!!"
Before I knew it, Canis had rushed to my side.
She looked back and forth between me and Targon in panic, but I simply nodded and gave a thumbs-up.
The circuit was nearly stable. Ten seconds.
Just ten more seconds, and a "Spear of Lightning" capable of piercing even a dragon’s body would be complete.
"...Why are you amplifying it?!"
Thud. Canis punched the back of my head.
Was it the physical impact?
"That’s right! Igripa, idiot! You idiot!!"
Or was it Lups calling me an idiot?
For a brief moment, my fingertips wavered, and the flow of mana loosened.
Crack.
The forcibly aligned circuit lost balance and split apart.
And just like that, the incantation collapsed.
"Are you out of your mind?! Why do you keep making things worse?!"
"Yeah! Are you trying to make us unemployed or something?!"
Canis and Lups shouted from both sides.
I could have finally shown him what real magic looked like if they’d just waited a little longer—so why were they reacting like this?
It was confusing.
Already disoriented from them, I then saw the balrog collapse on the other side, writhing in pain.
"...Urgh."
Thud. Something fell.
Looking closer, his right sleeve was empty.
Where his wrist should have been, only a jagged stump remained.
The backlash from the collapsing circuit must have caused mana to surge back, and his body couldn’t withstand it.
‘So fragile…’
What had he even been doing for 200 years?
Mana backflow was common when training magic.
Sure, it hurt like hell—but not to the point of losing a limb.
‘Sigh… I’ve got nothing to say.’
Seems magic wasn’t his calling.
Maybe I should give him a pickaxe instead.
The conference hall fell into a suffocating silence where not even a scream emerged.
Each time the severed wrist on the ground twitched, the eastern representatives grew paler than corpses.
"L-Lord Targon!"
"T-this is a clear insult to the East! Alliance Leader, this is—!"
Several from the eastern side began to stand.
Mana stirred in the air.
Then—
"Enough."
A short, low voice.
The commotion stopped.
Harpas, leader of the Eastern Alliance, slowly walked toward Targon, who lay on the ground.
"Targon."
Just calling his name caused the air to settle instantly.
"Ugh… Leader…"
"Pathetic. Get up immediately."
At that firm command, Targon bit his lip and stood.
Lups frowned at the harshness, but honestly, I understood Harpas.
A balrog’s hand would grow back after a day.
He was overreacting.
"As expected, truly impressive."
Harpas slowly turned his head and met my gaze.
Well, I didn’t have a face, so it was hard to tell—but probably.
"Even after 2,000 years, your presence remains extraordinary."
With that, Harpas began clapping.
Behind him, the many beings who had been emitting mana earlier joined in, silently applauding.
In an instant, the hall filled with applause.
"You know me?"
"Of course. You’re Igripa, the madman born from the Kingdom of Lugniss, aren’t you?"
Harpas shrugged.
I couldn’t help but shrug as well.
It was nice to be recognized—but if it came with bad memories like Asmodeus, that wasn’t exactly a good thing either.
"Yeah, I’m Igripa. But how do you know me?"
"Well, you’re quite famous. Maybe the young ones don’t know, but anyone who’s lived long enough does."
Silence.
As soon as he finished speaking, the hall grew quiet.
Canis’s tail stiffened again, and Lups swallowed hard.
So it seemed my name carried weight among other races.
‘…Should I have joined their society instead?’
Back in the Kingdom of Lugniss, barely ten people even knew my name.
And now I was famous?
If I had known, I might’ve explored the world instead of staying in the kingdom.
‘Well, I’m a farmer now, so it doesn’t matter.’
As I organized my thoughts, leaving that regret behind—
Asmodeus, who had been silently observing, finally spoke.
"You knew?"
Narrowing his golden eyes, he exhaled hot steam through his massive nostrils.
The thick scales between his brows creased deeply.
"No. If I had known, I wouldn’t have even come to this meeting."
Harpas let out a hollow laugh, and Asmodeus followed with one of his own.
In the quiet hall, the sight of the two laughing was strange, yet oddly harmonious.
"That makes sense."
"Then the East will consider the earlier offense settled. As for the matter of intrusion, we will treat it as if it never happened."
"Canis, if you have any demands, please discuss them with me later."
With that, Harpas nodded and returned to his seat.
Canis and Lups looked between him and me, but that didn’t help.
"The East is finished. Next is the North, correct?"
Leaning back, Harpas looked toward the northern side.
Asmodeus snorted lightly, as if in agreement.
‘Is that him?’
From the northern side, a man slowly stood.
Jet-black hair, with smooth silver horns extending from it, and sharp, cold features as if carved from ice.
‘…Is that considered handsome?’
That must be Edrion—the ruler of the North that Lups had been praising endlessly.
Judging by Lups’s reaction alone.
‘…’
Though she tried to maintain a solemn expression appropriate for the meeting, the fluffy tail extending behind her chair spun wildly like a helicopter.
Thump, thump. The sound of it hitting the floor betrayed her excitement.
‘Edrion…’
The faster Lups’s tail spun, the tighter my skeletal fist clenched beneath my gold-threaded robe.
It was unfortunate for a first meeting, but just looking at his face made irritation rise.
I had planned to hold back because Canis asked me to…
But that might not work.