Chapter 62
Chapter 62
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Man of the Hour (5)
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Is this a good thing?
Rishir was quite flustered after unwittingly committing the taboo that was being dubbed "beating around the bush."
'Damn it, that wasn't my intention.'
This was an item that the creator had repeatedly emphasized as a degraded version of the original.
So Rishir had vaguely thought, 'Even if it's good, it can't be that good.' He never imagined it was something that could drive heavyweights like masters or grand mages insane.
But what could he do?
What was done was done.
All he could do now was emphasize his true ignorance and beg for leniency.
While the beasts were distracted with each other, Rishir slyly pocketed the spirit core.
He watched the chaos unfolding before his eyes.
'I wondered how far it would go, but they're going all the way.'
It had started with the priests and mages excitedly shouting things like, "Uwaaak! Get out of the way! That's mine!"
But it had evolved into a rational debate: "Step aside. That's mine."
Followed by: "Here's why our group needs the spirit core."
"Oh ho. Then shall we hear our side's opinion as well?"
"By all means."
A dignified saliva-spitting contest.
Just in case, Rishir chimed in.
"Everyone. If I may be so bold, the ownership of this item still belongs to me, correct?"
"…!"
"…!"
"…!"
His utterly obvious remark pierced to the heart of the matter, leaving everyone but the elves looking as if they'd been struck by lightning.
Oh no!
I can't believe I sided with the elves (who always insist they're right when it comes to spirits)!
They judged that the spirit core Rishir had shown was at minimum an upper-grade spirit (fluid body) core.
A treasure among treasures that you couldn't buy even if you offered a fortune, because no one would accept your money!
If they could just research that item, the Magic Tower's knowledge would advance several levels!
Of course their eyes would spin at the elves trying to "elf" it away!
But looking back, it was utterly embarrassing.
Everyone except the elves hung their heads in shame.
"I'm sorry, Rishir. We showed you an unsightly side of ourselves."
Starting with the grand mage, a wave of apologies and admissions of their faux pas began.
"…I misspoke."
Finally, Latsiel bowed her head toward Rishir in apology.
"…!"
"…!"
"…!"
An elf apologizing!?
To a human of lower status, no less!?
Some were so shocked they pinched their own thighs.
A few priests nearly interrogated the elf: 'You're actually a parasite apostle too!'
But on second thought, it wasn't entirely unreasonable.
The spirit core Rishir had shown.
If anyone here understood its value best, it would be the Green Tower mages who lived intertwined with spirits.
Even from the elves' perspective, who monopolized spirit-related resources, an upper-grade spirit core was a freakish treasure that made you blurt out, "What the hell? Where'd this come from?"
As a result.
Rishir's small, precious hairball had worked a miracle, earning the elves' respect for humans.
Everyone was looking at Rishir like dogs begging for treats.
Rishir's mouth itched.
'Perrin's core is a mass-produced one...!'
If he spilled it.
1. He'd feel refreshed inside.
2. He could brag that his house was full of stuff like this.
And other benefits.
But benefits always come with responsibilities.
Revealing the golden goose's existence in such a formal setting could lead to dangerous eyes on Little Baby Wolf in the near future.
Heh heh heh.
Hey there, Little Baby Wolf?
Wanna do something nice with Uncle? (Vomit up a hairball.)
'Those would be some real dangerous bastards.'
Thus, Rishir felt the need for a tactical pivot.
"As expected of Master Latsiel—you noticed right away. That's right. In fact, the friend who gave me this isn't a spirit."
Surprisingly, Rishir didn't even need a small lie to fool them.
Perrin was a spirit and simultaneously not a spirit.
Perfect fodder for bullshit.
Thanks to that, the lies flowed smoothly like oiled gears.
"She said she had no interest in material things, handed it to me, and vanished. I miss her today more than ever."
Rishir added a poignant, wistful smile for the finishing touch.
"…!"
Suddenly turned into people squabbling over ownership of someone else's sentimental keepsake, they fell silent and bowed their heads solemnly.
No one could look at Rishir with "That's ours, right?" eyes anymore.
Thus, the bastard seized the initiative in a gathering attended by representatives of the Church and the Magic Tower.
'No wonder Fienne went around planting flags in this house and that!'
He might awaken to a dangerous instinct.
Rishir reined in his mind and continued.
If Perrin were here, she'd say:
'Do whatever the fuck you want.'
Rishir interpreted it as:
"If that friend were here, she would say: It's yours now, so do as you wish. But I hope you never regret it. Therefore, I hope this item is used for something meaningful."
For example, elevating the status of the group I belong to.
Rishir gave a knowing glance to the Gray Masters.
Alpha bastard style: The table's all set; just come grab a spoon.
"…!"
The Gray Masters, moved to tears, sprang into action.
"Lord Barodros. You've heard Rishir's words."
"…Yes, I heard clearly."
"?"
Why are they suddenly consulting with the Church folks?
"Rishir. We've received your intent loud and clear."
They shouldn't be the ones receiving it.
What did you even receive? Wrong delivery?
Rishir's true feelings screamed.
"It certainly seems that way."
Rishir hid his true thoughts behind a meaningful smile.
Gazes focused.
The emotions within were no joke.
Shock. Awe. Respect. Reverence.
Bathed in those gazes, he lacked the confidence to say, 'There seems to be some misunderstanding.'
Meanwhile, the conversation proceeded.
"The Gray Tower will positively consider full cooperation with the Church regarding the ongoing 'plague antidote' development."
"Likewise, the Church will positively consider full cooperation with the Gray Tower regarding the ongoing 'plague relief' efforts."
Rishir recalled how, just moments ago during their feast of egos, they'd clashed over the antidote's development progress.
It was a major issue drawing public attention, with group prestige on the line—no small tension there.
Yet suddenly, casting aside all political gains to focus on solving the problem?
'Suddenly?'
Because of me?
The key to the plague antidote?
Is the value in this spirit core that great?
Even in his bewilderment, Rishir couldn't help but flash a satisfied smile.
The grand mage and Gray Masters were looking at him like a "wise youth who awakened their old, foolish selves."
This must be what you meant, right?
Ah, yes. Indeed. Absolutely.
Good is good, right?
He'd originally planned to hand over the spirit core to score points with the Magic Tower, but ended up scoring with the Church too.
'Whoa, affinity doubled!'
Rishir concluded the situation thus and entered spectator mode to enjoy it.
And so.
As the Gray Tower and Church united around the common denominator that was Rishir, Enna and Latsiel suddenly felt a sense of incongruity.
The Gray Masters and Church grand mage.
Their discernment and standards shouldn't differ much from their own.
But still, even as the owner of an upper-grade spirit core.
Even with his great contributions in rooting out black mages.
To show that much interest in a mere wandering mage?
There must be something more.
Enna and Latsiel, who had learned of Rishir's origins during the investigation and completely withdrawn their interest, now turned their attention back to him.
Then, things they hadn't seen came into view.
"…?"
The two doubted their own eyes.
The man they'd seen yesterday.
Where had the man gone, drained of all energy and not even worth gauging his circle level?
There stood a man reborn, in perfect condition.
And moreover—
"What is this?"
Enna, the Blue Tower's cool-headed master whose mindset had assimilated with the aura of cold, unwittingly blurted out something dumb.
The Magic Tower's apprentices had discernment too.
They spread rumors excitedly among themselves but never leaked internal Tower matters to outsiders.
But when that outsider was staying inside the Tower, limits existed.
Enna, while staying at the Tower, had overheard countless floating rumors in passing.
Tales of a mage who handled elementalization at the 4th circle.
Tales of a mage who demonstrated mastering blue breathing on the spot.
Tales that a genius mage who reached the 5th circle before age twenty was interested in the Gray Tower.
And.
The most absurd of all: tales of a mage who went from early 4th circle to 5th in under a week.
The wise Blue Tower master placed no great stock in such floating rumors.
Apprentices spreading them busily, as if aiming for the investigation team's visit.
Their intent was so obvious it was almost cute.
Yes.
The Gray Tower mages were attempting their own preemptive strike.
We've got stuff like this; bet your tower doesn't.
Of course not.
The apprentices' fictional beings were beyond impressive—downright implausible.
'From early 4th to 5th in under a week? What, bamboo growing?'
No fool who heard such rumors and went "Wow, really?" could ever become a Tower master.
So why had she persistently asked Meltas about meeting the rumored figure?
'You can't show them anyway, right?'
A retort to their preemptive strike.
That was Enna's attitude toward the rumored existences.
…But now.
Enna had no choice but to revise that attitude.
"What is this?"
It was a mage, and simultaneously a martial artist.
Why were the remnants of two disparate paths manifesting in one person?
Because of that, she couldn't even accurately gauge Rishir's circle.
'Hold on.'
A mage with martial talent?
"Don't tell me—the mage who mastered blue breathing—"
Enna's sudden question.
The answer came not from Rishir, but from the Gray Masters beside him.
Your tower doesn't have stuff like this, huh?
The masters were smugly puffing up with exactly that expression.
"…"
Good lord.
Enna forgot her irritation at the masters' unseemly glee and was purely shocked.
There was surely exaggeration in the tale of mastering blue breathing on the spot, but even discounting that, it was astonishing enough.
A mage learning blue breathing.
For a mortal, every mana operation would cause body-mind clashes, leading to mana reflux.
What level of mana sensitivity was needed to control both without conflict?
Enna's gaze toward Rishir changed.
She understood why the Gray Tower obsessed over this mere wandering mage.
The rumors were true... Then, could it be?
Enna's eyes gleamed.
With part of the rumors confirmed true, the others gained plausibility.
A genius mage who reached 5th circle before twenty was staying at the Gray Tower.
The rumor Enna had been most interested in.
Enna's interest had already surpassed the peculiar mage before her, heading elsewhere.
She opened her mouth, willing to abandon even the Blue Tower master's pride, to ask about the rumors' veracity.
"Is that rumor true?"
"Why hide it now? Yes, the rumors are about Rishir."
The Gray Masters answered instantly, as if they'd been waiting for that exact question.
Even without specifying which rumor.
As if no matter which rumor she asked about, the answer was predetermined: Rishir.
"…"
By the time her thoughts reached that point.
Enna and Latsiel's faces were dyed in horror.
He's that one, and that one too...
All those many rumors swirling in the Gray Tower.
They were all about one person.
The two looked at Rishir with dazed expressions.
Beside them, the Gray Masters wore their usual faces.
Your tower doesn't have stuff like this, huh?
...Like we would.
The two masters were floored.
Moments later.
The Gray Tower entered a state of emergency.
The Green Tower, Blue Tower, and Church.
All three factions expressed intent to attend Rishir's honorary mage appointment ceremony.
[Reputation in specific regions has increased]
▶ Region: Blue Tower: Slightly Hostile → Interested ▶ Region: Green Tower: Slightly Hostile → Interested ▶ Region: Holy Flame Church: Neutral → Friendly
[Reputation with specific factions has increased]
▶ Faction: Carriers of Deception: Hostile → Interested ▶ Faction: Dawn Knights: Neutral → Interested
"Hm...?"
Late at night.
Rishir woke with a strange sense of incongruity.
He opened his eyes and checked his body.
Beyond the blanket, something else covered him.
A petite woman curled up, breathing raggedly, pure white.
"Fienne...?"
Twitch.
At Rishir's voice, the small figure trembled.
She raised her head and looked at him.
"Rishir..."
Silver eyes wet with tears glimmered, absorbing the moonlight from the window.
And the handkerchief in her hand.
The one Fienne had buried her face in moments ago was stained with blood.
It was the same handkerchief she'd used before to wipe Rishir's blood.