Chapter 12
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: Tracking Request (4)
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I didn't hesitate to clasp my hands together. As I held them out in front of me with my palms nearly touching, mana began to slowly condense above them.
The mana swirled roughly, but I shaped it and solidified its form. My ice attribute proved quite advantageous in handling such turbulent magical power, much like waves eroding rock. Next, Professor Palrez's magic influenced the shaping. Mana long-term preservation spells were essential basics for artifact creation.
Once the form was somewhat complete, the next step was delicately altering the mana flow to precisely engrave mana circuits.
It didn't take long to make a mass-produced artifact. Of course, its durability suffered as a result. Once the mana ran out, it would scatter like dust.
If that wasn't acceptable, I'd have to spend far more time on meticulous crafting. Just manifesting the form would take a full half-day.
But given the field conditions, this was far from bad. I couldn't exactly haul my entire lab here, so this was the best option.
"I think that's everything I can do for now."
"...I'll report to the Commander first."
Raistel hurried off, leaving me in an awkward standoff with the others, exchanging glances.
They didn't hold my gaze for long. It felt like they were intimidated by me.
Fortunately, Raistel returned soon after, with the Commander grandfather in tow.
But this old man... he sure gets around a lot.
Normally, someone at Commander's rank should have their butt glued to a desk.
Thinking about it, a Transcendent had taken an interest.
Compared to such a being, maybe even a Commander had to run around sweating bullets.
Or perhaps this grandfather was just exceptionally enthusiastic.
Turning down an elder position in a ducal family to personally command the troops and come to the front lines was special enough.
He strode right up to me.
Ugh... standing face-to-face made it feel even more intimidating.
This was the first time I'd encountered an old man staring at me with such eyes. Actually, meeting a 7th Circle mage was a first to begin with.
"Start with an apology."
"...Pardon?"
I thought I'd misheard.
I never imagined words like "apology" coming from someone exuding that much aura—especially in front of everyone.
"I've heard about what you did here. It'll be a big help."
He continued quietly, as if confiding.
"Staying cooped up in the military narrowed my thinking. I overlooked how vast and mysterious magic truly is."
"Ah... yes..."
"So, what I'm saying is, won't you stick around?"
"Me? You mean enlist?"
The grandfather chuckled.
"That wouldn't be bad either. But what I mean is, cooperate with us through the duration of the tracking. You didn't get the full reward Raistel promised, but of course we'll increase it, so no worries there."
What I'd been promised as reward was Vinsen's research materials.
There wasn't much more to squeeze out of that.
Still, I had no intention of pettily holding their initial distrust against them. I'd already gotten an unexpected apology.
I didn't refuse outright and said to him,
"But how exactly did you know about me? From the first moment, you seemed displeased—because you already knew something, right?"
"..."
Suddenly, the grandfather with all his seasoned dignity and presence was at a loss for words. What could possibly make him hesitate like that?
"Hard to say. If I told you... I'd get an earful..."
"..."
I had no clue what he meant. Seemed like some big secret.
As if changing the subject, he abruptly asked something out of left field.
"By any chance... what's your main magic?"
"Manifestation."
"Hm... And offensive magic?"
"Nothing impressive."
"I see. Heh heh..."
Sudden personal inquiry.
And what was with that hearty laugh that didn't suit him?
This wasn't some kindly neighborhood grandpa.
"No need to ask more if someone as self-assured as you says that much."
"If that's what you mean... thanks, but why the sudden curiosity?"
"Ahem... Let's just say a mage beyond my expectations piqued my interest."
The more we talked, the stranger this grandfather seemed.
"...Alright. If you need more help, I'll lend a hand."
Me directly facing off against a corrupted mage... probably wouldn't happen. No one would expect that.
At most, tracking traces or analyzing them.
So I wasn't too worried.
I could help. Since I'd started, being part of the process beat just hearing the results later.
Plus, the newly discovered pattern had piqued my interest.
#
The assigned lodging was surprisingly decent. The room was spacious, and the bed mattress was higher quality than expected.
I wondered if it was treatment as a noble's son, but honestly, without proving my skills, it would've been a pipe dream.
Flashing a noble title in front of the Eldis Ducal Family was practically a joke.
After a quick wash-up, I headed down to the first floor for a meal.
And there, I spotted a familiar face.
The mercenary who used physical tracking techniques.
I approached him casually.
He flinched in surprise, clearly not expecting me to come over.
His companions quickly stepped in to block me, like they were mediating.
"My friend got emotional and spoke out of turn. If you're offended..."
But they seemed to have misunderstood something.
Maybe seeing me whip up an artifact made them think I was some great mage. Or perhaps witnessing the Commander personally apologize changed their minds.
Or both.
I ignored it and handed him a mass-produced artifact.
"Use this for tracking."
"..."
He hesitated, not taking it right away.
What, did he think I'd planted some weird trap?
If he couldn't even discern that and was trembling in fear, why bother mouthing off in the first place?
"I... I didn't know. I only heard some mage friendly with Sir Raistel was coming from a rural city..."
"We're not friends."
I cut him off sharply and tilted my head slightly.
"And what you should focus on isn't 'rural city,' right?"
"Pardon?"
"It's the word after that. 'Mage.' Your friends seem to know that well enough."
He gave an awkward smile and nodded.
"Y... yeah. I overstepped. Sorry."
"Track diligently. Please find that corrupted mage."
I placed the artifact in his hand and turned away lightly.
Of course, some might mistake me for an amazing mage just because I made an artifact.
But judging purely by offensive magic, I'd rank low even among 5th Circle mages.
I knew that best.
Still, it was enough to handle average mercenaries. I had no intention of throwing my weight around, but the perception gap between mages and mercenaries was vast from the start.
So no need to go out of my way to be ignored.
I went for food but ended up heading back to my room.
Running into them just felt uncomfortable.
Skipping one meal was no big deal.
I flopped comfortably onto the bed and pulled out my Manaphone.
The two in the group chat were in the middle of a lively conversation.
Followers of Evil have a habit of trying to reach their master no matter what. That's an unchanging truth. So it's important to know who that master is.
Yeah, I get that, but we can't chase just anyone. Didn't you say not to kill them?
There are guys who look exactly like the followers you described, but way more that I can't tell apart!
I already had a rough idea of what deal those two had made. During days of carriage travel, their conversations and transactions were shared. Even without real-time checks, I could review them anytime.
So I knew a bit about Followers of Evil too. They worshipped evil-tainted Transcendents, or something like that.
Time had passed, and their deal had progressed nicely.
Anonymous (1) had already reached the Belheim Empire and headed straight to Palewood as Anonymous (2) suggested.
He'd also shared that the race settled there was highly reclusive, but occasionally showed signs of leaving the forest.
There are ways to distinguish Followers of Evil, but I can't tell you. You couldn't use it anyway. Instead, I'll teach you a simplified spell.
...When did they get this chummy?
I thought their opposite personalities would make conversation impossible, but surprisingly, they clicked.
He pretended to brush it off but subtly accepted.
Maybe because of the transactional premise?
One thing I noticed watching: Anonymous (2) was hiding her identity.
Makes sense. No benefit in revealing it. The room was built on anonymity, and with the other's identity unknown, spilling your own was a loss.
Whether they could use magic... no need to ask.
Otherwise, they couldn't even find this Manaphone.
Soon after, the actual spell formula appeared in the chat, complete with what looked like Anonymous (2)'s handwritten explanation.
I automatically traced it in my mind. Just mentally simulating... pretty high difficulty.
And an unfamiliar structure—no, one I'd never seen. Slightly different from the standard Imperial Magic Tower formulas.
'Pretty high... heck, even I'm barely managing?'
A spell tough even for 5th Circle. Plus, it used Pielberin, a rare flower, as a core material.
Relay spells were generally lower difficulty than others, but at 5th Circle...
Anonymous (2) might be a skilled mage. Whether it was just knowledge or practical skill, unknown.
'But can Anonymous (1) even use this spell?'
As far as I knew, they were a magic newbie...
Sure enough, they promptly refused.
Troublesome. Pass.
You said you needed a way to distinguish them.
Just sniff 'em out.
...Smell?
There's ways. Don't doubt me.
Then why complain?
'Cause it'll obviously stink.
They bickered on.
Was it fighting or bantering? I'd grown used to their squabbles.
Amid that, I sank into thought.
'Followers of Evil...'
The term nagged at me oddly.
Because the target I was pursuing was a corrupted mage.
Were corruption and Followers of Evil connected?
Just the words alone didn't seem entirely unrelated...
But the magic world was filled with such diverse and bizarre happenings that jumping to conclusions was hard.
Only one way: ask someone knowledgeable.