Chapter 43
Chapter 43
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 43
Chapter Title: Illusory Inferno (3)
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A few days ago, on the day he'd wrapped up business with the Burtane family and returned to Abaca.
Galen had stopped by the mercenary guild and posted a request.
It was a demand for detailed information on the mages active in the frontier zone that the guild had compiled.
By coincidence, the regular courier from the frontier zone had arrived in Abaca just the previous day, and the documents handed over by the guildmaster even included the current locations of mages staying in Abaca as of yesterday.
It wasn't exactly a deep background check—just the kind of info you could get by putting in some legwork—but it still wasn't something the subjects would be thrilled about, so the guildmaster had cautioned him to be discreet.
After getting Lilia's permission and sending her ahead, Galen gave the documents a quick scan before leaving the guild.
'Hmm.'
He hadn't even hoped to find any Silvers on the list to begin with.
Unless they were like Galen or Carne—driven by some specific goal, just passing through for experience, or freshly promoted to Silver after gaining enlightenment as a Bronze.
Otherwise, they'd have long since headed off to easier money elsewhere.
Still, if you counted from level 30 as Silver, there'd be level 10 Bronzes, level 20 Bronzes, and even level 29 Bronzes around.
Galen lined them up by skill level first, weeded out those with overly poor reputations from the surrounding chatter, then narrowed down the rest.
Some had already left or were out when he visited the inns where they'd stayed the night before, but after two misses, he succeeded in meeting the third candidate.
"Are you Lord Roy?"
"That's me... And who might you be?"
"I've got a commission I'd like to offer."
"A commission?"
The mage named Roy appeared to be in his early thirties. His face fell into a troubled expression the moment he heard Galen's words.
"S-Sorry, but I just got back from the frontier zone yesterday. Maybe later, but I don't want to head back right away."
"It's not a trip to the frontier zone."
"Pardon? Then what is it?"
"Well, some personal... research? I need a mage's assistance with something from the Dimensional Church."
"Research?"
Roy's expression soured even further. Calling in a mage for "research" reeked of something shady.
Galen realized he'd chosen his words poorly. But alternatives like "test" or "experiment" wouldn't help much either.
"I'm not some shady character... Here's my credential."
Galen decided to lean on his fame. He flashed the gleaming Gold mercenary badge he'd received that morning, and Roy's eyes went wide.
"Wha—uh... N-No way?"
He hadn't heard about the Gold promotion yet, but during his entire stay in the frontier zone, Roy had heard Galen's name so often his ears had blistered.
No photo or anything to recognize him by sight, but that badge made it unmistakable.
"Ah, th-the... I-I'm so sorry for not recognizing you!"
"No offense taken."
"Wh-Why would someone like Lord Gold have business with a nobody like me...?"
"Like I said, it's something like personal research. You'd just need to exchange a few very light spells with me. Nothing harmful, I assure you. And no secret hideouts involved."
"...Really?"
"Today... well, not all day with spells. For a single round of sparring, I'll pay five gold coins."
"Five coins? In gold?"
"Upfront. Right now, if you're willing to head out immediately."
Roy swallowed hard at Galen's straightforward offer.
Mages commanded higher rates than warriors, but no Bronze was getting five gold for a quick one-off—not even close. Five silvers, maybe.
In the end, greed won out. Roy nodded.
"I'll do it."
"Prepare yourself, then."
After a short wait, Roy emerged ready. Galen called a carriage and headed to a nearby training ground.
Abaca was full of them—places where mercenaries could pay a fee to loosen up.
Galen rented a small open lot surrounded by walls and faced Roy.
"I hear you're a mage who wields wind like a weapon."
"Yes, that's right."
"Simple rules. We'll alternate—one attack, one defense each."
"Y-You're going to attack me?"
"Of course, toned way down. Worst case, a bruise. Don't worry."
Roy looked a touch regretful, but with the advance paid and this far along, backing out wasn't an option.
They took some distance. Roy spoke in a slightly trembling voice.
"Th-Then I'll attack first."
Galen nodded. Roy gulped, extended his arm toward Galen.
Whiiir!
The wind gathered at Roy's fingertips—Galen could feel the flow himself.
Then, a blade of wind shot forth.
'Fast.'
Not fast enough to outpace, of course.
With thought acceleration slowing time, he traced the attack's path. The blade wasn't fully transparent; he felt the air's moisture parting aside.
A water shield rose before the wind blade.
Splat!
The wind sliced into the shield but might as well have been chopping water with a sword—pointless. It didn't pierce or fly through.
This much, Galen had anticipated.
His grasped conditions for starting magic acquisition: contact with a secret manual or clashing with an opponent's spell.
Tormenting innocent, weak Bronzes for new spells felt off, and drew unwanted eyes.
So why not hire openly? The frontier zone made mages relatively accessible. It worked.
"My turn this round."
"Y-Yes!"
Galen pointed his index finger at Roy. The weakest, slowest-tuned water orb flew.
Thud!
Roy, tense as a wire, overdid it. His wind blade shattered the orb outright.
"Just repeat that."
"R-Really?"
Perplexed but compliant, Roy followed suit.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Wind blades and water orbs traded blows.
Roy's face brightened—no danger, as promised—but Galen's grew sterner.
'Going exactly as expected. Too exactly.'
Magics he'd acquired in battle so far: Spirit Creation and Illusory Inferno.
Both opponents, Redna and Carne, were Silvers.
Silver mages squeezed dry of mana right before collapse, barely hitting 100% progress.
Would that formula hold against a Bronze?
Experience from spars or kills dropped exponentially against weaker foes.
He'd seen it training familiar spells; would acquisition be different?
His pre-experiment worry came true.
"Huff... huff..."
"Tired?"
"I-I can keep going!"
"No need to push. Not trying to torment you. Mana left?"
"...Honestly, almost none."
"Rest, then."
They'd sparred until Roy's mana bottomed out.
Progress: a measly 2%.
That last bit ticked up right at the end, or he'd have gotten zero.
Bronze vs. Silver wasn't a fifty-fold mana gap.
Progress barely budged—so little he thought the status window glitched at first.
"Lord Roy?"
"Yes!"
"If the same commission came again, when could you take it?"
"A-Again?"
"Hypothetical. If repeated long-term, what's the cycle? Just curious."
"W-Well... not daily, that's impossible. Factoring recovery, minimum a full day rest... even skimping."
"Hm, best case every other day. Got it. Good work."
"D-Done...?"
"Said one round, didn't I?"
Roy looked dumbfounded. Made sense—pointless grind, drained his mana, then cut loose.
Galen sent him off coolly and moved to the next candidates.
Three more mages, same pitch: fame to pressure, gold to lure.
Results mirrored Roy's. No one hit 3%; the weakest capped at 1%.
'At 2% per, fifty times. Best case, hundred days. Over three months. Minimum.'
Not just hiring for a hundred straight days, but every other, fifty sessions of mana-squeezing.
Deserters midway? Doomed. Would any last the course? Sure, for enough gold—who knew how much.
'Bronze spells flawed? Status window rejecting them? Merc standards peg Bronze baseline, but true warriors/mages start at Silver...'
Maybe that, or something. Either way, stealing from Bronzes was trash efficiency.
Only for desperately rare spells worth three-plus months.
To expand arsenal, better pick fights with Silvers. Delinquent style aside.
'Good thing, actually. Refine what I have; clashes with new mages will come. Level those up then.'
He'd expected low gains from Bronzes anyway. Clean cutoff felt relieving.
Nine months since learning Water Flow Manipulation—others clung to one lifetime, he had nearly three.
Better master steadily than lug low-level junk.
'Start with Illusory Inferno.'
Galen shook off regrets, face clearing as he walked.
A minor hiccup later, two days after.
Myra summoned Galen.
"Rested well?"
"What would I have to do? You've been the busy one, Bishop."
"Truth be told, not overwhelmingly so. Much to ponder, rather."
She handed him an envelope.
"Take this. Settlement for last time."
"Thank you... Oh."
Galen peeked inside and whistled softly. Ten bills of one hundred gold each.
He'd gotten as much for Nijerte, but that factored ending decades of enmity over a rich port city's control. No everyday Silver fee.
Even as Gold now, standard Gold outings didn't start at a thousand gold.
"Generous sum."
"Without you, who knows the damage if we'd taken Yoram... unaware of Moritz's betrayal. Annihilated expedition, then Burtane falls next."
Myra gave a wry smile.
Hypothetical, but no Galen meant blindsided by betrayal; expedition wipeout leads to Burtane's doom.
Abaca diocese crumbles, Elta's roots shake—two cities gone, exaggerated.
Of course, Galen solo couldn't face Moritz without Myra and Lilia.
Still, a thousand gold was huge from the church. Myra valued him highly.
She watched him pocket it.
"Settlement received. Off now?"
"Can't live here forever."
"Destination set?"
"Gotta decide now."
"Still open, then."
Myra nodded slowly, paused, then spoke.
"How about one more commission?"
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