Chapter 47
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 46
Chapter Title: Western Region (5)
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After Ignatus accepted my proposal, she immediately began preparations to fall asleep.
And I stayed in the Mage Tower for a while, watching from the side.
There wasn't any particular reason. As Ignatus had said, gathering another million gold in cash and valuables would take some time.
More than that, even though the magic was reproduced based on my memory and Ignatus was staking her future on it, it felt a bit off to just leave without a care.
So, I was lounging in a plush chair, watching the Mage Tower's senior mages work diligently.
A massive building large enough to house Ignatus's true body. Intricate formulas meticulously wrapping its inner walls.
"It looks more complicated than what I remember."
"No helping it. There were more than a few parts that needed tweaking for this body to use it."
Ignatus, likewise reclining beside me, answered nonchalantly.
Anyone seeing us would think we were vacationing at a resort.
"No, I'm a layman when it comes to magic, so fine, but is it okay for you, the Tower Master, to be lounging like this?"
"You know nothing. Even at the Academy, professors just supervise while apprentices do the actual work. Let alone in a Mage Tower."
"...So you're saying you, the Tower Master, just lie back and check for errors, while your disciples actually draw the magic circle?"
"Exactly. Unfortunately, none of my current disciples have reached the Archmage level, but they're all senior mages, so they can handle drawing magic circles."
"Huh."
I shook my head, gazing at the mages diligently working before my eyes.
Each one appeared quite elderly. Considering that knights and mages who reach high realms age slowly, their actual ages were probably much older.
Mages who looked like they stepped out of fairy tales were sweating profusely as they engraved magic circles on the walls and floor.
She even scolded them harshly for occasional mistakes, which seemed punishable by death.
"Is this right...?"
"It's the mages' long-standing tradition."
Ignatus shrugged, but to me, she looked like a tyrannical professor exploiting grad students.
The kind who wouldn't let them graduate even after they grew old.
It was a truly horrific sight, but not all of Ignatus's disciples were mobilized for the magic circle.
Some were exempted for Mage Tower operations, and others due to insufficient skill.
Maykin, scurrying around running errands for the apprentices, was one such case.
"Maykin. Bring a drink for this body as well."
"Pardon? Ah, yes, Master!"
"The usual one."
"The usual... one?"
"How many years since you entered the Academy, and you've already forgotten?"
Ignatus gave her youngest disciple a look of exasperation and slowly explained.
"Brew tea from mint leaves grown with holy power, add five spoonfuls of syrup instead of sugar, top with cream and chocolate chips in a 3:1 ratio, and place a biscuit on top."
"...Yes!"
What on earth does she usually eat?
Mint tea loaded with syrup, topped with cream, chocolate, and even a biscuit.
"Ah."
Is this that insanely sweet, warm mint chocolate with a crunchy biscuit on top?
My body shuddered at the dragon's bizarre tastes.
Still, I was thirsty too, so I beckoned Karen.
"Karen, Karen."
"Yes, Patriarch."
"Bring me milk."
"Milk... you say?"
"Yeah."
"...Understood."
Karen nodded with a resolute expression. Suddenly, murmurs arose around us.
"Milk... that must mean what I think, right?"
"It's House Zahav. Of course it does."
"Good grief... what could come from such a small place."
"Exactly. At that level, he's on par with the Tower Master."
Seemed like a ridiculous misunderstanding, so I hurriedly added,
"Just to clarify, by milk, I mean cow's milk."
"Pardon? Of course we know that."
"What? Then why the tense face?"
"I expected the Patriarch to order something complex as if he couldn't be outdone, and I was concentrating to memorize it all at once."
"...My tastes aren't that unique."
"Pardon? No, it's not about taste—complex beverages symbolize authority in noble society... Ah, did you not know?"
"Didn't know, and even if I did, I'd still ask for milk. I eat what I want; no point caring about others' gazes."
I shrugged, and only then did Karen nod in understanding before walking away.
Ignatus watched her with an unexpectedly intrigued look.
"Not human milk, huh..."
"Who asks for that in someone else's house?"
"The Zahav two generations ago did."
"..."
"Oh, and for reference, the one three generations back wanted cockatrice blood."
"The options are extreme..."
"What of it? Milk originally comes from blood anyway, so it's a consistent taste. You seem to prefer plain cow's milk, though... Just to be sure, you're not referring to milk from a cow beastkin woman, right?"
"..."
Honestly curious about that, but I deflected with a question instead.
"Anyway, what parts need tweaking?"
"Nothing much. Thanatos's Bed is comfortable but meant to grant absolute death. But this body needs to wake midway, so we're just intentionally creating gaps while keeping the magic functional."
"I see. But it's originally powered by black mana—is that part okay?"
"Hm? Ah, you said you're a layman in magic. Actually, black magic itself isn't inherently evil. Naturally, the same goes for black mana."
"...Hard to believe."
I know if someone kills with a sword, it's the killer's fault, not the tool's.
But after fighting black mages and seeing countless black spells, I can affirm: black mana stimulates people's dark sides, and black magic is cultivated through cruel methods.
Most black magic involves curses, necromancy, interdimensional interference—ominous stuff.
Yet Ignatus just shook her head with a faint smile at my words.
"I'm not saying black magic is the same as other magic. Just that it existed before distinctions of good and evil."
"Before good and evil...?"
"The boundary between good and evil is defined by the people of that era, no? Nowadays most countries ban necromancy, but during the height of the Night of Tragedy, death magic wasn't taboo."
"What? So anyone could command undead back then?"
"Controlling undead is far more efficient than slaves—why refuse? Above all, overcoming death is the age-old aspiration of mortals. There were basic morals, but even the gods didn't condemn necromancy itself."
Flinging fireballs isn't illegal. Nor is using them.
But firing them at people or property without permission is.
Ignatus described eras when necromancy was permitted in that vein.
"This was in my youth. Go much further back, and even more would have been allowed."
"...I get it. As generations pass and trial-and-error accumulates, more rules emerge. Not all forbidden magic was taboo from the start."
"Correct. Trace it back further, and mages call what you encounter the Origin."
Before branching into detailed schools. Beyond ancient magic—primordial magic is more accurate.
"Curses were the origin of attack magic. The intent to harm is the curse itself, and all attack spells stem from it."
"Necromancy...?"
"All attempts to transcend limits branched from the will to conquer death."
Alchemy, space-time magic, contract magic, etc. Ignatus said all sorts of magic branched from corresponding black magic.
"Mix any colors wildly, and you end up with black paint. Black mana is the same."
"Then the maddening quality of black mana... magic's just inherently like that?"
"Didn't I say? To mortal eyes, even the friendliest god is steeped in madness. And magic... is the technique to touch divinity with a mortal body."
Thus, spells invoking gods' names are treated as grand magic, the highest difficulty, she added.
It satisfied my curiosity, but was hard to grasp at once.
As I sorted it in my head, Ignatus smiled contentedly.
"Still, you try to understand. I guarantee it—you're among the top five smartest Zahavs in history."
"No, what the...?"
Caught off-guard by the sudden Zahav diss, I nodded along to her summary.
"Think simply. Black magic isn't evil—it's barbaric. In this civilized era bound by restraints, unrestrained barbarism is unnecessary."
"Now I get it. So black magic is a relic of past eras, and black mages are sore losers clinging to delusions?"
"...A bold analogy, but close enough."
Ignatus took a sip of the terrifying beverage Maykin had brought and continued.
"Well, after the Night of Tragedy, black mages twisted further due to Tragodea's blessing."
"They were different before?"
"Breaking laws, kidnapping for human experiments, wiping out villages to test new spells—that's always been the case."
"...Any change?"
"In the past, it was out of necessity. After the Night, they do it unnecessarily, deeming it more tragic."
"Ah."
Sudden flash of black mages' exaggerated attitudes.
The higher the realm—mixing more of Tragodea's divine power into their mana—the more their minds warp.
Speech turns theatrical, they chase amusement over efficiency, even treating their own deaths as play.
"Borrowing your words, Enoch, the dreamers of past eras who can't let go are now unable to rage even by their own will."
"Perfectly understood. No chance of redemption, so kill them on sight?"
"...Yes. But I brought this up to warn you."
"Warn me?"
"Black mages are those who threw themselves into madness, enamored with divinity. Now swayed by Tragodea's sanctity, they're even further from their essence. Know what that means?"
"They're thoroughly insane."
"Right. And you, Enoch, crushed their headquarters and felled their leader. You shattered an impossible obsession, a millennium of achievement. Know what that means?"
"Of course."
I shrugged and smirked.
"The black mages have to fear me."
"...I wanted to say their obsession will be viciously unrelenting, but seems unnecessary."
Ignatus chuckled dryly and shook her head.
"Madly arrogant. But that's the Zahav who contains the sun in a human body."
"..."
Not really a Zahav.
Time flew by after that.
Since it hadn't been long since repelling the last Wild Hunt, no ominous signs appeared.
The senior mages spun like tops under Ignatus's supervision, and preparing the modified Thanatos's Bed passed in a flash.
On the tenth day since I arrived at the Mage Tower.
Ignatus reverted to her massive red dragon form and coiled atop the magic circle.
-Enoch. When this body falls asleep, I'll wake exactly 20 hours later.
"Faster than expected."
-Unlikely, but if anything happens in those 20 hours, can you handle it?
"If the bonus gold is paid properly."
-Huhu. Who am I? A dragon and the Tower Master. I'll raid buried lairs of kin if needed—don't worry.
"...No need to go that far."
The giant dragon giggled for a while, then quietly closed her eyes.
-See you tomorrow then.
"Sleep well."
With brief banter and an even briefer farewell, I left the building.
As I exited, the door sealed, turning it into a complete darkroom and sealed chamber.
Mana so immense even I flinched concentrated, and soon heavy breathing echoed from beyond the thick walls.
Her size made the snores audible outside.
She'll be even bigger when she wakes, huh...
They said the building was prepared with that in mind, but hard to picture.
Chuckling, I returned to my assigned room. 20 hours—time for me to sleep too.
.
.
.
.
.
And in the dead of night, a familiar roar jolted me awake.
—————!!
It was the Death Dragon Morteus's cry.
"Damn it."
The Wild Hunt had begun.
Just ten days after the last Wild Hunt.