Plan #1 to Sow Discord

Lawrence walked along the path, lost in thought. The lineages of the black mages. Those who worshipped Amon, and the lackeys of other entities. In other words, the black mages were divided into various factions and groups.

Their exact goals remained shrouded in mystery, but Lawrence had long heard that they were bitter enemies among themselves. They had even stirred up internal strife during the war that erupted ten years from now.

That was when it began.

'The time left until artifacts are thoroughly researched.'

It was still far off. Ten years was more time than he thought to accomplish a great deal.

The first step was to confirm and resolve his questions. They undoubtedly knew about the existence of the legacies.

'To make them spill information, the best way is to let them talk among themselves.'

That was the conclusion Lawrence had reached.

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When do people most easily leak secrets? It was in the moment they conversed with others who knew the secret.

That's where information came from.

"They say he pierced the continental situation just by eavesdropping from a back room."

"What?"

"Ah, nothing. Just talking to myself. Haha."

Something's off with you, kid.

Lawrence brushed off Loria Montemer's peculiar gaze from beside him with practiced ease, sighing inwardly. This habit of muttering to himself during solitary research popped up now and then.

'We can communicate even like this?'

But the system had no sense of humor.

Memories surfaced of his childhood or hanging out with friends, chatting freely without a care. Looking back now, South Korea had truly been a great place to live.

'This is just my hunch, but it seems there are guys after the legacies. Deferter's ties to the black mages are already confirmed.'

Exactly.

Lawrence headed toward the distant spot where smoke was billowing faintly. Alzeras's pride, the fortress. Originally built to repel foreign invaders, it had now become a bulwark where undead and black mages held off ordinary humans and the church.

Rumble—

Cannon fire echoed from afar. Probably the tower master showing off his prowess.

Accompanied by thick black smoke and a faint foul odor, Lawrence was reminded once more that this was a battlefield.

'The best solution is still to avoid spilling our own blood.'

He had gathered plenty of good materials, so it was time to make them choke on them.

By the time they neared the enemy camp, the battle had just ended. The exhausted fighters slumped amid the stench of the battlefield.

"Lawrence, you're here. How did it go?"

"Handled it perfectly. And we found this."

"Hm..."

Lawrence discreetly showed something to Iron Hanma. The Iron Tower Master recognized it instantly, his face twisting in a scowl.

Lawrence whispered to him secretly.

"We need to investigate a bit more. Too early to announce it publicly. We have to do it in front of everyone."

"Mm, got it."

Argon Bredley cut into their whisper.

"The enemy raided us. They came from that fortress. They seem to have our movements all figured out."

"I see."

The fortress was in dire straits, but the walls hadn't crumbled. Traces of black magic filled the stone crevices, exuding an eerie aura. Pockmarked from direct magic hits, it would take more time to breach.

"I'll tend to the wounded too. And... I have a method, so please wait a moment."

"Mm, understood. We'll regroup for now and prepare for defense or attack."

"Got it."

Lawrence nodded and began treating the wounded. More knights cadets than mages were hurt, and more soldiers than cadets.

He swiftly swapped artifacts in a spot out of sight and cast healing magic.

Brilliant light showered down, mending the wounded's injuries.

The soldiers gazed at Lawrence with eyes full of admiration. Noble mages rarely did such things.

They were called "humans with blue blood" because their blood was the color of mana. Tending to common soldiers was the job of medics or priests.

Yet the young master of the great Montemer family was casting healing magic himself. He was also adept at first aid and disinfection.

"Thank you... young master."

"Next!"

No time to dawdle. Night was falling, prime time for undead activity. Who knew what those bastards might pull.

"Next, hurry up!"

"Whoa... he's like a true saint."

"Yeah, more enthusiastic than us."

The Saint Knights watched approvingly, nodding in satisfaction. The youngest young master was far from the succession line anyway.

'This is a good chance to build ties with Montemer.'

Aldmiri, captain of the 11th Saint Knight Order and high priestess. A senior saint knight nearing master level in a woman's body.

She had clearly seen it: Lawrence showed exceptional talent as a saint knight, priest, and even mage.

Unbeknownst to him, Lawrence had become a figure of interest to the church.

"Hm? My neck feels itchy for some reason..."

Lawrence, knowing little of the Holy Kingdom or church, dismissed it casually.

Night fell, granting him time to prepare. In his tent, Lawrence began readying tools for the black mages.

#2

Scratch, scratch.

The pen scratched repeatedly. Skipping a proper dinner, Lawrence kept at it.

Artifacts were birthing from his fingertips.

To hide a tree, hide it in the forest. To hide from people, blend into the crowd.

Lawrence planned to follow those proverbs to the letter.

He had created over five artifacts. Finally, his Dragon Body had grown to 80%.

At 80%, new abilities followed in droves.

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"Nice."

The rewards didn't end there. Crucial growth details for Lawrence lined up.

"...What does that mean?"

The answer came promptly. The Dragon Lord's arrangements must have foreseen this. If this body truly mimicked dragon growth, the system would know.

"Ha... so that's it."

He recalled ancient texts. A single dragon scale could forge a supreme weapon. Eating dragon meat granted immortality. Even a chunk of flesh made potent potions or elixirs.

Now he understood why. And mana, never felt in life before, surged through him.

"So, can I use magic without artifacts now?"

"...Why not?"

"..."

True enough. A punch-worthy truth. If it were next to him, he'd have decked it.

#3

This was the temporary command tent, where officers gathered.

There, Lawrence secretly sought out Iron Hanma. The tower master listened, then gasped in shock.

"You can do that with your abilities?"

"Of course. Look."

Lawrence spread his hands. Crackle—

Artifacts manifested, different magics blooming in each palm. One hand held dark black magic, the other radiant holy magic.

The two clashed fiercely at the center, as if devouring each other. Space warped, sparks flying.

"Hah. Hard to believe even seeing it."

"It's artifacts. And I'm the only one who can ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠make them..."

"That'll suffice. A brilliant ploy. But escaping will be tricky."

"I'll open the gates."

"...You sure you can?"

Iron Hanma admired yet worried. Sending this child into the heart of danger...

As a commander, he'd normally approve. It was a dagger thrust through a narrow gap.

But if Lawrence were captured and killed...? Genuine concern overrode duty.

Lawrence would become a monumental figure. Spoiling him was an issue, but so was sending him into peril.

"It's fine."

Lawrence's resolve was ironclad. How could he stop him?

Iron Hanma sighed and nodded.

"...Alright. Go."

"You have to come rescue me, okay?"

From the talk, the enemy had taken losses too. Tonight, both sides would analyze and plan.

He had to exploit that gap and widen the rift.

"Whew... Time to head out."

Away from camp, Lawrence set artifacts from his subspace. His role shifted from all-purpose mage to black mage.

A ruthless black mage to sow confusion and terror among the foes.

"Ades, ready?"

"Of course."

His guardian melted into the shadows, prepared.

Now, time to teach the enemy true fear.