Chapter 10
Chapter 10
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: The Ironclad Sorcerer: Creighton Lukbart (1)
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The battle mage of the Magic Corps, Creighton Lukbart.
He now stood atop the walls of a fortress at the Empire's northernmost frontier.
Hoo—
A sigh escaped Creighton's lips as he gazed down at the ground below, accompanied by thick smoke from his pipe.
The ornate robe symbolizing the chief mage of the Battle Magic Corps.
A staff carved from olive wood.
And a grimoire bound to it, with an antique leather cover.
In the Empire's border regions, no one who saw him failed to recognize Creighton.
This held true not only for the margrave's forces that moved alongside him, but also for the enemies beyond the border.
The Ironclad Sorcerer, Creighton.
A seasoned battle mage who had shone in countless engagements in the north over the past several years.
His name carried immense weight in the north.
"Sir Creighton, I hear you're leaving the fortress this time."
As Creighton peered down at the ground with a foul pipe clenched in his mouth,
Benjamin, the knight of the margrave's domain, who had been watching him from the side, spoke up.
He had heard the rumor that Creighton was departing the fortress for the capital.
Creighton nodded with a faint smile at Benjamin's words.
"The rumors have spread that far already? Come on, what does it matter if one mage leaves?"
Creighton's gaze took in the vast mountain range visible beyond the walls.
Beyond those treacherous peaks lay the land of the savage barbarians.
The Ervar Alliance.
This confederation of countless tribes had long clashed frequently with the Empire.
The northern barbarians had repeatedly crossed the border whenever they could, raiding nearby villages.
Yet, up until then, the northern issue had been merely a headache for the margrave's forces.
The number of barbarians breaching the borderlands wasn't that great, after all.
"A letter arrived from the Battle Magic Corps. It's a shame for anyone else, but especially for you, Sir Creighton, to leave the fortress."
As Creighton stared at the rugged northern mountains, Benjamin offered a pleasant response.
Creighton smirked as he listened to Benjamin.
"You all like me too much, honestly."
"How many soldiers up north would dislike Sir Creighton?"
"If Sir Benjamin says so, then I can leave with a good feeling."
Just as Benjamin said, the people of the north were kind to Creighton.
A pipe of tobacco. A basket of fruit. A hunk of jerky.
They showered him with gifts whenever they had the chance.
All fruits of the battles fought over the past few years.
'Come to think of it, this place used to be pretty peaceful long ago.'
As Creighton reminisced about his time in the north, smoke billowed from his mouth once more.
Amid the thick smoke from Creighton, the face of a certain barbarian surfaced in his mind.
The barbarians' domain began posing a major threat to the Empire about a decade ago—after the emergence of the Great Chieftain Partlinger.
Great Chieftain Partlinger.
One of the seven monsters deemed to have reached the pinnacle of the continent's power, the 'Seven Apexes.'
Once the alliance produced this overwhelming charismatic leader, the Ervar Alliance began to change.
Most of the feuding tribes in the mountains started uniting under the Great Chieftain.
The rapidly coalescing barbarians posed a massive threat to the Empire.
The northern barbarians, who had hidden in harsh terrains until now, invaded the borders on a much larger scale and far more frequently.
Thus, clashes between the Empire and the alliance continued for years.
By now, even the deployment of Battle Magic Corps forces to the north felt natural.
"If you ever need anything, come to our house anytime. Mention Benjamin sent you, and they'll know."
It was to the point that the chief mage of the Battle Magic Corps had built camaraderie with the margrave's knight.
Hearing Benjamin's goodwill, Creighton gripped his staff with a pleased smile.
"Alright, I'll do that."
"By the way, once you're back in the capital, you won't be able to roll dice with us anymore. What do you plan to do in the meantime?"
"What I'll do... For starters, I'll inquire about a few spells."
At Creighton's mention of magic, curiosity flickered in Benjamin's eyes.
"Anything beyond basics would take time to learn, wouldn't it?"
For a mage of Creighton's caliber, adjusting the incantations for such spells would require considerable time—
Benjamin's point was quite reasonable.
Swoosh.
Creighton extended his staff toward Benjamin as he spoke.
"I received a personal request from someone high up this time."
"Someone high up... If you're calling them that, Sir Creighton, it must be a request from some high noble you know to find a spell for them."
"Well, it seems like someone far more troublesome than that. Mages like us have to keep striving for advancement even at this age."
Creighton, who had spoken of the library's Archmage, tossed aside the nearly burned-out pipe.
Sizzle—
The pipe, crushed under Creighton's foot, was swept away by the north's cold wind, extinguishing its embers.
After disposing of the pipe, Creighton tapped Benjamin's shoulder with the tip of his staff.
"Sir Benjamin. I want to be someone who makes history."
"……."
"To do that, I need to stick close to those who write it, don't I?"
Knight Benjamin.
Even meeting Creighton's gaze, he struggled to fully grasp his intent.
The history Benjamin knew existed only on the battlefield.
That was the difference between a knight and a mage.
* * * * * *
The night before Creighton departed the fortress arrived, his last in the stronghold.
As always, he entered the vast library just past midnight.
The great Archmage had called this enormous library the 'Phantasmal Archive Celestia.'
Creighton quite liked the name Phantasmal Archive for this grand library.
Stepping past the familiar entrance, Creighton soon encountered the master of this special library.
"You're here at the usual time today as well, Creighton."
Scratch, scratch—
The sound of a sharp quill crossing paper echoed.
A black-haired young man busily writing something, with several grimoires floating in the air.
The librarian of Celestia, Johan.
And recently, the head of a secret academy imparting knowledge to an inexperienced young mage lady and Creighton himself.
The Archmage, who had lived for over hundreds of years, welcomed Creighton as if he had been waiting.
"Sir Johan. Starting tomorrow, I should be able to devote my time to finding those spells you mentioned."
Creighton reported to Johan that he would begin acting on Johan's request from tomorrow.
Johan seemed pleased by this as well.
He responded to Creighton with a faint smile.
"You've worked hard, Creighton. If you find useful spells, I'll reward you accordingly."
"……."
"And the incantation adjustments I mentioned yesterday are fully complete."
Moreover, Johan informed Creighton that the incantation work from the previous night was done.
Creighton's eyes naturally filled with anticipation upon hearing this.
Johan, the Archmage, had personally agreed to refine the combat incantations Creighton had used as a battle mage.
It was something Creighton eagerly awaited.
"...So the combat incantation adjustments are finally finished."
"Yes. I've improved the overall output of the incantation. The barrier's durability is enhanced, and the bombardment's power has increased significantly."
"Huh, impressive."
"The mana consumption in standby mode has dropped sharply. And while the grimoire is active, it can draw in some mana from the surroundings to sustain the incantation."
Nod, nod.
As expected of an Archmage—
Creighton was admiring this for a moment when he recalled Johan's last words and voiced a question.
"...Pardon, what?"
"Is there a problem?"
"You just said... it can recharge mana."
Replenishing mana from external sources while the grimoire is operating—
In other words, mana would slowly recover even during spellcasting.
As Creighton's eyes filled with doubt at this absurd notion,
Johan gazed at him steadily and continued.
"Yes. I've embedded a simplified mana accumulation incantation into the grimoire. Of course, being as simplified as possible, it won't fully replace combat mana expenditure."
"……."
"But it should more than offset the standby mana drain."
"Ah, no... How can such magic exist in this world...?"
"Before you go, I'll help you export the grimoire via the 'Memory Imprint' spell. You'll recall the full incantation details even after leaving Celestia."
Creighton's mind reeled from the shock of Johan's words.
Mages' knowledge was typically passed down in closed forms outside the Mage Tower.
Thus, certain special spell incantations rarely spread externally.
But what Creighton heard today was far more outrageous.
Recharging mana, even a little, mid-battle—
Any mage who struggled to even operate their grimoire when mana ran low would faint upon hearing this.
"Best to see the details for yourself."
Swoosh.
Johan extended a grimoire toward Creighton.
It looked identical to the one Creighton had handed over the day before.
Creighton snatched it and immediately flipped it open to check the inscribed incantations.
Rustle—
His hands busily turned the pages.
"No... What in the world is this...?"
Soon, as he beheld the improved version of his own spell incantation, Creighton's face twisted in shock.
'Why does it all look completely unfamiliar...?'
The Ironclad Sorcerer, Creighton.
Not a single trace of the original incantation he had devised remained in the combat magic.
Creighton Lukbart.
He couldn't comprehend a single line of the spell incantation in his hands.