Chapter 119
Chapter 119
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: crow
Chapter Title: The Archmage and Grand Noble's Man (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Rishir looked down the corridor.
At this hour when night had fully fallen.
Toward the figure standing in front of his door.
A familiar face. But one he almost failed to recognize at first glance.
Because the atmosphere around her was so utterly different.
"Lord Rishir."
Drey's agent—
Meishi, whom Rishir remembered as the "glasses lady."
Her businesslike demeanor was unchanged.
But if before it had been the curt professionalism reserved for outsiders—
Now it was the precise etiquette extended to honored guests.
Stiff yet profoundly courteous.
—Finally, those fools are bowing their thick heads and showing proper respect to you, milord!!!
Rishir inwardly smiled wryly at Dangaleon's voice echoing in his mind.
Setting aside the phrasing, it was clear his standing within Drey and Palag's circles had risen dramatically.
"I apologize for visiting so late without prior notice."
"Not at all. Please, raise your head. You must have come on urgent business important to me as well. Would you like something to drink?"
Rishir gestured toward his room, but Meishi slowly shook her head.
"No, I cannot impose further. I'll convey my message and take my leave."
With Rishir's assent, Meishi got straight to the point.
"Tomorrow afternoon, Guild Leader Gus is hosting a gathering at the estate."
The banquet had concluded successfully, but Gus's estate was still bustling with outsiders.
Some banquet guests had stayed at Gus's invitation to build rapport, and new visitors were arriving to network with them.
A person draws people.
This was the true extension—and real purpose—of Gus's banquet.
Currently, secretive discussions were unfolding throughout the estate—conversations too sensitive for the open banquet.
These weren't idle society gossip but serious talks of business and alliances.
For instance, the outsiders lingering weren't mere banquet attendees; they were Gus's "true guests."
The gathering Guild Leader Gus was hosting tomorrow was a vital occasion for these true guests to strengthen ties.
"The two lords hope you will attend the gathering."
"Me?"
Rishir asked in surprise.
From his dinner conversation with Fienne, he had a grasp of the estate's current dynamics.
He knew the nature of the gathering Meishi mentioned.
Unlike the relatively open "party" atmosphere of the banquet—
This was a restricted, secretive "club."
Moreover, most guests staying at the estate were out-of-towners.
Merchants and power brokers from afar, invited by Gus to expand his ventures.
'What could I even do there? Huh? Rishir, what makes you think you belong?'
For Rishir, who had only just begun establishing himself even in his base of Bondalles, such doubts were inevitable.
At the banquet, packed with city nobles, many had reacted with "Rishir? Wait, is that...?"
But in that club, ten out of ten would respond, "Rishir? Who?"
'And I can't even count on Lona's support there.'
Rishir's doubts showed plainly on his face.
As if anticipating it, Meishi promptly delivered her prepared explanation.
"Specifically, the two lords wish to publicly commend your achievements in an official setting."
"Ah."
Rishir nodded in understanding.
'So, they'll gild my reputation and save face for me in front of all the big shots.'
It was an extraordinary offer.
After all, while phrased modestly, it amounted to vouching for his identity before key figures in the names of a grand noble and archmage.
Suddenly, Rishir recalled his dinner conversation with Fienne the night before.
—Among those staying at the estate now, here are the ones worth remembering.
—First, Romitis, heir to the famed magical house of Palan, who came after hearing of Palag. You wanted to witness 7th-circle magic, right?
Bring it up with him if you get the chance. Romitis just reached the 7th circle recently, so you might learn a lot from observing.
—Next, Brienne, the wandering swordmaster who arrived after hearing of Drey.
She's quite famous in the central continent. A 7th-circle swordmaster with major accomplishments.
She's not a bad target for witnessing the 7th circle either, but I won't recommend her.
Rumors say she's quite materialistic—what she might demand as payment is unpredictable. Never give her leverage over you.
—Finally, Corsia of the Silver Pouch Merchant Guild.
The guild operates from central continent bases on a massive scale.
Even the Golden Barley Guild would have to yield to them.
Corsia is deeply trusted by the guild's executives.
Building ties could help in many ways, but I won't recommend it.
No, I'll oppose it.
There are too many unsavory rumors trailing her. Nothing proven yet, but dig deep and you'd weave a whole tapestry from the dirt.
If she approaches, keep your distance without question.
—Right. They're all big players from the central continent. Why flock here? They were nearby, heard about the talent collector and Frozen Breath, and rushed over. Meeting those two isn't commonplace for them either.
—Yes, I know. Of course I'm grateful. But half of this I heard from Lona, so hold half that gratitude—pass it to her when you see her.
Having organized his thoughts via Fienne's words, Rishir nodded with interest.
The attendees at tomorrow's gathering.
People he might only approach after securing an official city council position and solidifying his footing.
For heavyweights like them to take note of him under the auspices of a grand noble and archmage.
The opportunities it would unlock were beyond imagination.
Rishir had to concede.
Palag and Drey's proposal was undeniably appealing.
"Additionally, the two lords hope to spend private time with you after the gathering. Might I ask if your schedule allows?"
It seemed that was just part of their sincerity.
—Looks like that 'wounded promising youth' act in the basement landed perfectly. For them to lavish like this from their positions.
Rishir inwardly nodded at Clana's words.
A grand noble and archmage, no less.
From such heights, they'd typically weigh every angle for face—but their offer felt utterly devoid of calculation.
Sincere to the point of being burdensome.
He had no choice but to accept.
"Understood."
Meishi's face briefly lit up at Rishir's reply.
As he grinned back, she cleared her throat awkwardly.
"Lord Rishir's gracious acceptance will be faithfully relayed to them."
Afterward, Meishi shared the time and place of the gathering before departing.
Rishir confirmed her retreating figure, then entered his room.
'Now what.'
His original plan was to pull an all-nighter refining "Enhancement."
He'd hit a wall in self-directed breakthroughs, but no better options existed.
'But this changes things.'
Palag.
The archmage, overflowing with teachings, had approached faster and more favorably than expected.
'Would he really teach magic purely to someone who's not even his disciple?'
Rishir pondered.
Mages were an extremely insular lot, their arts equally so.
7th-circle magical knowledge.
High-level secrets not even freely shared within the same school.
Would he impart that to an outsider like him?
"Ah, whatever. He owes me plenty already; he'll do it. If not, he'd be inhuman. A demon, even."
—Milord!!! We demons aren't such ungrateful wretches!
"Right, right."
Rishir relaxed and lay on the bed.
'Time to normalize my biological rhythm.'
Scrapping the all-nighter, he went straight to sleep to avoid being late for tomorrow's gathering.
Corsia, merchant of the Silver Pouch Merchant Guild.
Handling business in a small town near Bondalles, she dropped everything and raced to the city.
To meet the legendary beasts haunting Gus's estate—the talent collector and Frozen Breath?
Yes, normally.
Winning even a sliver of their favor meant immense opportunities.
But not this time.
What moved Corsia was no mere merchant instinct.
The Third Arm.
The crime syndicate that had lavished debts to elevate her demanded it.
The demand was simple: retribution.
They wanted Rishir—the one who ruined their operations—to pay the due price.
Essential, they claimed, for resuming business in Bondalles.
Thus, Corsia arrived in Bondalles, and opportunity struck swiftly.
Moria's duel with Rishir.
The event that electrified the banquet hall.
Now, post-banquet, it circulated the estate with a darker tone.
"By the way, what happened to Moria after the duel? She looked off."
"I asked Gus the same thing; that's what I was wondering."
"What'd he say?"
"Wouldn't spill details, but apparently Drey and Lord Palag dragged her to the basement and restrained her for some reason."
"Restrained? That's ominous—"
"Word is she's a black mage hiding her age and identity."
"Mercy. How'd that rumor start?"
"Lord Romitis said it."
"The Palan heir?"
"Yeah. He claims Moria's abilities can't be explained by 5th-circle level. She showed fleeting 7th-circle traits, and suspicious changes during the duel—"
"Damn, I'm no mage; simplify it?"
"Listen, was Moria fooling everyone into thinking she was a genius? Including Frozen Breath, former Blue Tower Master Palag? Could any mage deceive him easily?"
"No way."
"So Romitis concluded: if Moria hid her identity and power to deceive Palag, her true level is at least mid-7th circle."
"...Hold on."
"What?"
"Then what does that make Rishir, the young mage who beat her?"
"The estate's buzzing about him right now."
The estate had countless eyes.
They watched Rishir summoned to the basement by Drey and Palag.
And emerge with an uneasy expression.
The news spread estate-wide instantly.
Corsia seized the moment.
"Lord Romitis, what do you make of that mage Moria's talent?"
"Absurd. 5th-circle wielding that power? Manifestation is tricky even for me—if genuine, she'd be historic genius."
"...And what of Rishir's display?"
"That's what I want to ask. Brienne, thoughts on his duel-ending strike? I'm no sword expert—"
Romitis, Palan heir and high mage.
Brienne, famed wandering swordmaster and high swordmaster.
Corsia drew them aside separately, stoking suspicions.
"Ugh, words can't convey my shock. That strike—even I'd have no reaction if I were opponent."
"...You?"
"Seen countless swordsmen, even assassins. His move mocks assassination itself. What monster forged that technique—"
"...But he's a mage—"
"Exactly, that's the crux. Question for you, Lord Romitis: thoughts on Rishir?"
"..."
The 7th-circle swordmaster and mage expounded on how unreal Rishir's feats were.
Corsia spread their claims, infecting others with doubt.
Thus.
The estate's guests reached the same conclusion as some archmage and grand noble might.
Rishir was more suspicious than Moria.
Drey and Palag must think so too.
"Perfect flow..."
Corsia smirked in satisfaction.
All that remained: nudge Drey and Palag to voice suspicions at the upcoming gathering.
Public doubt from a grand noble and archmage's lips.
Once it spread through Bondalles, his position would crumble.
Even merits from purging crime and corruption would sour.
Precisely what the Third Arm craved.
If handled well, her debt would be cleared.
Harboring that hope—
"Let's go."
Corsia headed to the estate's first chamber for the gathering.
She'd prepped groundwork to keep topics on track.
From early morning, she'd gathered guests, sustaining Rishir talk till start time.
A crowd centered on Corsia traversed the grand hall's wide corridor.
"Any word on Moria's treatment?"
"Drey aside, Palag attending such is rare. Probably to explain the incident."
"Frankly, I'm more curious about Rishir now—what they've decided."
Soon, they reached the venue.
The spacious room already held early arrivals.
Custom dictated lower status arrived first.
"..."
"..."
"..."
Surveying the crowd, Corsia's group's faces hardened instantly.
Rishir.
He was chatting with other guests.
Exchanging glances, Corsia's group approached him.
"Hm? Ah!"
Rishir greeted them with a mild smile.
"Pleased to meet you. Rishir."
He extended a hand politely to Corsia.
Corsia merely eyed it coldly.
Her group followed suit, glaring frostily.
This gathering was blatantly unlike the banquet.
Power brokers mingling with merchant guild leader Gus, discussing business.
Rishir had no place here.
"..."
Rishir shrugged and withdrew his hand.
His conversation partner eyed the mood and tactfully retreated.
The atmosphere shifted rapidly, isolating Rishir.
Corsia inwardly scoffed.
'What? Thinks his level fits here? Knows no bounds.'
Drunk on self-importance, forgetting station.
A common young noble error.
No matter.
It gave a chance to probe him.
"Rishir, was it? What brings you here?"
"Oh, just invited."
Corsia laughed derisively, scanning the room.
Skeptical glares returned from all sides.
Expected.
A gathering with a grand noble and archmage.
Everyone scrambling to secure their own standing.
Who'd foolishly invite an unqualified outsider?
"Invited? You? Here? By whom, that fool?"
Corsia pressed incredulously.
Then—
"Ah!"
"They've arrived—"
The door opened; the hosts entered.
Gus.
With Drey and Palag.
Corsia's group turned from Rishir to greet them.
"Ah!"
Then Drey scanned the room hurriedly, brightening at Corsia's group.
Corsia recalled Silver Pouch Guild's ties to the Mastien family.
One basis enabling this scheme.
The guild had long maintained good relations with Mastien.
Thus, she assumed Drey welcomed her.
As she approached with a friendly greeting—
Drey strode past her briskly.
"Rishir! Thanks for coming!"
He seized Rishir's hand—standing at the group's rear—gripping firmly.
Not enough; he embraced him heartily.
"..."
"..."
"..."
Familiarity no one else evoked.
Corsia's group reeled at the wildly unexpected turn.
Later, Corsia's group's misunderstanding(?) cleared.
Drey and Palag detailed the incident to commend Rishir's feats.
Revealing Moria as a high priestess of the cult in disguise.
And Rishir, victor over her?
Just Rishir.
Brienne and Romitis struggled as magic and sword experts—
But what could they do?
Frozen Breath himself affirmed it.
They could only react, "Wow, amazing."
Thus, under the grand noble and archmage's lead, the gathering became the "Rishir Praise Fest."
Deceived by a cult high priestess, escaping only by another's aid.
A stain on Frozen Breath's reputation.
Yet Palag revealed it openly.
Solely to honor Rishir's merits.
By then, Corsia saw black.
The polar opposite of expectations.
Rishir had won their favor, not suspicion.
Could she make him pay the Third Arm's price now?
No need to think.
Antagonizing one favored by grand noble and archmage to settle a mere syndicate debt?
Merchant Corsia calculated swiftly.
Botched handling here would cost unbearably.
After agonizing, she decided.
Where to invest her life.
"L-Lord Palag, Sir Drey. I must confess something."
Corsia whispered her tale to them.
They eyed the foolish merchant fronting criminals coldly.
But their minds held one thought.
Rishir.
Rectify ties with him.
Thus, they gave her far more than hoped.
"Understood. We'll handle that."
Corsia didn't grasp the weight—
Nor the consequences.
"Well then, we'll be off."
The Rishir fest wrapped after ~30 minutes.
As if that was their sole purpose, the archmage and grand noble praised Rishir, confirmed his introductions, then left.
Taking him along.
"..."
They gazed wistfully at the unhesitating departure.
"Before proper talk, one question first. Rishir, during the duel, you said victorious you'd claim a boon. What did you plan to ask?"
Palag.
Securing a private space with Drey and Rishir, he broached it immediately.
Rishir felt no surprise.
Since leaving his room, that was his sole focus.
"I wish to witness Lord Palag's magic. Teach me the art of manifestation."
"Hm...!"
Palag's eyes gleamed.
Simultaneously, impatience flickered on Drey's face.
Rishir.
He assumed interest in Palag's discipleship.
The "disciple candidate" slot Moria held now vacant—a fitting ambition.
"Witness manifestation... That's simple enough."
Palag flicked his fingers gladly.
A stream of mana flowed in response.
7th-circle realm.
The dream of most mages.
Palag's mana stream seemed too plain for a spell embodying that realm's insights.
Inevitably—it consisted solely of manifestation.
Palag had fulfilled Rishir's request precisely.
Of course, Palag knew.
This wasn't what Rishir truly wanted.
He craved "Frozen Breath's" magic, all infused via manifestation.
"You asked to witness manifestation, and this perfectly delivers: a mana stream wrought purely thereby. Is this what you sought? Probably not. Rishir, manifestation isn't the grand thing you imagine. Merely one of countless elements in magic. Grasping it won't dramatically change you. Thus, my proposal: if your ambitions reach higher—"
How about properly learning magic under me?
Like a grandfather teasing a grandchild with candy.
As Palag grinned mischievously, poised to propose—
"Oh! This is it!"
Rishir, scrutinizing the mana stream, exclaimed excitedly.
Huff!
Huff!
His breath grew ragged suddenly.
...His mana had reached 7th-circle.
"?"
Palag noticed Rishir's change.
His thick brows furrowed tightly.
"Ah."
At the reaction, Rishir hastily added.
"No need for alarm! Just replicating the mana surge Moria had in the duel!"
"?"
Replicating?
What, exactly.
And how.
Rishir's explanation only backfired.
Palag's brows knit tighter.