Chapter 57
Chapter 57
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Chapter 57 - 찜!
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Translator: crow
Chapter 57: Honorary Mage Offer
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I had no idea what had happened while I was asleep, she said.
In response to Fienne's words, I replied with a serious face.
"Fienne. Of course I don't. I was asleep."
"..."
Haa.
Fienne, who had been gazing into the distance with a meaningful expression, turned cold eyes toward me and let out a sigh.
"It was such a nice fortnight."
"Fortnight? My god. Surprisingly, it perfectly overlaps with the time I was out cold. Fienne. While I was suffering in a coma, what fun did you have all by yourself?"
"Suffering, my foot. Lying in bed like a lucky bastard getting tended to by everyone—how is that suffering?"
"...Wait!"
At that moment, I realized a shocking fact.
I looked at Fienne with a startled face.
"What's wrong! Is your body hurting!?"
"No, not that. Fienne. You said I was down for a fortnight, right?"
"Was there something important? Oh no. Tell me now. It might not be too late."
"No, not that either. Listen. If I was lying there for a fortnight, doesn't that mean I didn't eat or drink anything during that time? How did I survive?"
Slap.
Fienne covered her face with both hands.
Even though she's so small, one hand would probably suffice.
"Am I really an idiot... I know worrying about you is a losing game, but why do I keep doing it..."
"Love is stronger than hate, isn't it?"
Fienne looked at me with eyes full of pity.
"Right. Go ahead and puke it all up. Must be so backed up after a fortnight."
"Fienne. Anyone hearing you would think I'm expelling toxins and waste right now."
"Whoever they are, they nailed it."
Fienne gazed into the past days with distant eyes.
"I'll never forget it my whole life. Those dreamlike days when you just quietly kept your mouth shut."
"That's some emotional rollercoaster... Got it. For your sake, Fienne, I'll try to fall into a coma as often as possible."
"Really? What should I do with all this joy?"
Fienne turned her back and headed for the door.
"Leaving?"
"That sounds like a good idea too, but first, something I just remembered."
"What's that?"
Fienne didn't answer and left the room.
And shortly after, she returned carrying a tray with a bowl of porridge and a cup of water.
I clamped both hands over my mouth.
It was the gesture meaning 'totally touched'.
But apparently my feelings didn't get through, because Fienne made a disgusted face.
"Just so you don't get the wrong idea."
"Ah, I see. You brought it for yourself, Fienne."
"...Better if you did misunderstand."
Fienne placed the tray on a desk in the corner of the room, then grunted and dragged the whole desk over beside the bed.
Whew.
Fienne panted for breath and swept her bangs back with the back of her hand.
I thought how this spirited girl had pulled off acting like a frail lady so well.
Having set up an impromptu table, Fienne sat back down in the chair beside the bed and said,
"Tell me. How's your body feeling?"
Only then did I check my physical condition at Fienne's prompting.
First off.
I recalled that pain that had nearly granted me eternal sleep.
It was like the collapse of my flesh.
The agony of overload where my skin cracked, eyeballs popped out, and organs and airways melted away.
"Urk-"
Just imagining it made my body react with extreme rejection.
Fortunately, that was all. The overload pain was gone now.
At least for the time being.
"And?"
Fienne pressed for the next answer after hearing my story.
"And..."
Unfortunately, the pain being gone didn't mean my body was back to full strength.
How should I put this.
It reminded me of a game character whose HP was full but stamina was rock bottom.
"No particular discomfort, but it feels like there's no energy in my body?"
"..."
Fienne nodded.
"Just like that person said."
"That person?"
"Baroldos. The high priest from the order who helped you."
High priest.
I hadn't paid much attention at the time due to the chaos, but now that I thought about it, the weight of the title was immense.
In such a massive organization as the church, there were only a handful above a high priest.
"Man. Never thought I'd live to see the day. A bastard like me rubbing shoulders with someone as exalted as a high priest."
"Says the guy who buddies around with the masters and treats the Magic Tower like his own home?"
"Ah."
I'd forgotten for a moment.
Come to think of it, the Magic Tower masters were no slouches either.
I remembered the Blue Magic Tower master once invited to the family estate engaging in a staring contest with the Bendel family head.
Even in front of a proper noble house lord, Magic Tower masters could hold their throats high.
"Heh."
A hollow laugh escaped me.
Did the bastard me back then know? That I'd end up mingling with such remarkable people.
"So, what did the high priest say?"
"That while physical issues would resolve immediately, weakness in vitality was unavoidable."
For example, HP full but stamina empty.
It matched exactly what I felt and the high priest's diagnosis.
"Until your vitality fully recovers, operating mana—or even moving your body—will be inconvenient."
"Did he happen to mention how to recover that vitality?"
"Yes. It was a very clichéd method, but he did tell me."
"Eat well and rest well?"
"Exactly."
Fienne handed me the porridge bowl and spoon.
I took them and asked,
"Did you make this, Fienne?"
Fienne averted her eyes and said,
"I gave it a try."
"A try?"
"I looked away for a second and it all burned. The ingredients were the problem."
"..."
What did she use as ingredients? Eternal Flames of Wrath?
First time seeing a cook blame the ingredients for burnt food.
"What's with that look? Got something to say?"
"No. Just thinking those ingredients were real jerks. Stealing away my chance to taste Fienne's cooking. Talk about rice thieves."
As I spoke, I checked the porridge's consistency with the spoon.
The porridge, neither too thin nor too thick, showed a master's touch.
"So, what's this porridge then?"
"Master Didoa came by and cooked up a pot before leaving."
"Ah, makes sense."
Alchemists. Masters of precise measurement magic.
I immediately understood why the porridge was so perfectly done.
"It was chaos. They were planning a full feast like it was a festival, so I stopped them once. Then they tried to cook a whole cauldron of porridge, so I stopped them again."
I pictured Didoa endlessly refilling teacups and snack plates in the lab, and it made me chuckle for no reason.
"Can you eat the porridge?"
"Yeah. My body's definitely fine. Just looking at it makes me hungry."
"Good. Then eat while we talk."
"What? You're not going to feed me?"
Tsk.
Fienne clicked her tongue in disgust—
but snatched the bowl from my hand like she'd been waiting.
"Annoying. What the hell do you take me for?"
"No, if you hate it that much, you don't have to—"
"Again. Again. If I don't, you'll paint me as the bad guy. Fine, just open your mouth."
Fienne scooped up some porridge.
And after cutely blowing on it—whoosh whoosh—she held it out to me.
"How is it?"
Fienne watched my reaction in an oddly stiff pose.
"Just your standard tasty porridge. But you feeding it to me, Fienne, turns it into killer deliciousness."
"Ugh. Every word out of your mouth—"
Fienne grimaced but dutifully fed me the porridge.
As my mouth busied itself chewing, Fienne filled in the audio.
"Continuing. The high priest said you were supposed to be a dead man originally."
"Hmm? (Dead man?)"
"Even a commoner chugging a jar full of elixirs would end up in a state like yours? So severe that not dying would go against reason. Normally, even he couldn't have saved you—"
"Hmm? (I knew my condition was bad, but that severe? Anyway, what's the rest? Normally he couldn't save me. So how am I alive right now?)"
"But you being alive and well now is entirely thanks to that absurd thing you pulled off."
"Hmm? (Absurd thing?)"
Then Fienne stared at me and burst into laughter.
"Mastering Blue Breathing on the spot. What mage saves themselves that way?"
"...The high priest said that? That without it, I'd be dead?"
"Simply suppressing overflowing mana wasn't enough. Without reinforcing your body with mana, it would have collapsed. That's what he clearly said."
"..."
A chill ran down my spine.
Death had been right beside me.
"Did he say anything about what to do from now on?"
Fienne nodded.
"The high priest asked why you suffered such extreme overload. So, reluctantly, I told him about your abnormal mana growth."
"And?"
"He said incidents like this are likely to recur."
"So, don't slack on body reinforcement going forward?"
"Right."
"...I've learned Blue Breathing too. Should I just learn swordsmanship?"
"Rishir. Ever heard of someone wielding sword and magic at the same time?"
Magic swordsman.
Now a staple cliché combo, stable as can be.
If I applied my modern knowledge, that is.
But by this world's standards—
"Who knows."
People handling both magic and sword were exceedingly rare.
"Right? Why do you think that is?"
"They don't get the romance?"
Fienne hurriedly shoveled porridge into my mouth.
Not to shut me up, probably—I must've looked starved.
"Resonating with mana is the most delicate work. Even the greatest mages and warriors dull quickly if they slack. But handling two completely different powers at once? The height of inefficiency. There's little more arrogant than walking both paths of magic and sword. So the high priest expressed deep concern. Blue Breathing was a fine temporary fix, but it'll be a serious obstacle ahead."
"...So?"
"So we told him. No need to worry about that."
Fienne said it with a laugh like even she found it ridiculous.
"Right?"
"...I'll try my best to live up to expectations."
Did I know back when I first became a mage?
That the day would come when I'd have to secondary class into a magic swordsman just to survive?
While feeding me porridge, Fienne spoon-fed me most of the info I needed to know and would be curious about.
"Ah. So that's where we are—the Magic Tower guest quarters?"
"Yes. The rooms they provide for important visitors."
As the bowl neared empty.
Only one question remained.
"Fienne. Mind if I ask one last thing?"
"Perfect timing. I was just about to bring it up. What happened in the Magic Tower that they're suddenly offering you an honorary mage position—right?"
"Spot on."
Magic Tower apprentice mage.
If they strut around outside going 'I'm a Magic Tower mage~', someone would happily smack the back of their head.
None other than the official Magic Tower mages.
You have to complete apprenticeship to become a true Magic Tower mage.
Just one step, seems minor, but countless mages fail to pass it after over ten years.
In fact, in the library I frequented, memoirs of apprentice mages who never made it official were common, describing in suffocating detail how hard it is.
That's why I flatly refused Sir Meltas's offer to join as a student.
I could handle magic but had zero theory knowledge— I'd likely die in apprenticeship trying to become official.
But what's this?
Suddenly telling me to skip supporter and go straight to official Magic Tower mage.
Like asking if Stanford has jobs, and they say sure, take this PhD spot.
"Fienne. Just to check, is this common?"
"You're asking me if the Magic Tower—known for shunning outsiders and scorning commoners—handing an honorary mage title to a vagabond with no affiliated school or family is common?"
By the Magic Tower's public image, as Fienne said, unimaginable.
Before hearing the full story from her, I tried figuring it out myself.
'Rooted out black mages... went all-in with Gerhen... live-streamed mastering Blue Breathing...'
I had guesses, but they didn't fully explain the Magic Tower showing such urgency.
I was about to give up and ask Fienne for the details when—
Knock knock.
A knock came from outside the door.
"Rishir. Are you awake by any chance?"
Sir Meltas's voice.
Unlike usual, it sounded somehow unnatural, almost like he didn't want a reply.
Of course, I couldn't ignore Sir Meltas based on a mere hunch.
"Yes. Sir Meltas. Come in."
"..."
Sigh.
A sigh came from outside.
"I'm coming in."
The door opened.
The elderly gentleman with dreadlocks wearing the signature gray robe of the Gray Magic Tower master—
Sir Meltas appeared.
And—
"Huh?"
Figures in blue robes and green robes followed behind him.
At that moment.
Fienne leaned close to me and whispered softly in my ear.
"See those two?"
"The Magic Tower's anxious about someone snatching you away."
The honorary mage proposal.
The meaning packed into it was none other than 'Back the hell off, all of you! He's ours!'