Episode 1177
Episode 1177
Yet none of the Descendants of Ahrag could step forward saying, "I'm the perfect person for this job!"
They all knew they were weak in the art of persuasive speech.
This was precisely the problem when a group lacked new members.
With only the same old rotten bastards sticking together, there was no one suitable to send when situations like this arose.
"I'll go try to persuade him."
"Don't talk nonsense, Ninth."
"You shouldn't go outside. Just stay here in the catacombs."
"If you go out, we'll kill you."
Faced with their comrades' blade-sharp reactions, the Ninth Descendant of Ahrack was utterly flabbergasted.
"...Why, why! I'm the only one here who can actually persuade young people!"
"Listen to him talking about 'persuasion.' If what you do counts as persuasion, then what I do isn't grave robbing—it's buying on installment."
"Even though we've received special privileges from the Emperor, Ninth, you should exercise some self-restraint. Unless you want those privileges revoked."
"Fine."
A brief silence hung in the air.
Then the other descendants spoke up.
"Did that bastard just go outside?"
"He definitely went."
"...Contact the Second and Third to stop him. Just make sure he doesn't cause trouble."
"Cough, cough."
Professor Mortum kept coughing as the cold wind blew. The Black Magic school students eyed him suspiciously.
"Are you pretending to be sick again?"
"That's entirely possible. Last time too..."
"What...! Cough, you wretched students."
Faced with his students' suspicion, Professor Mortum put on an aggrieved expression.
Of course, Mortum had indeed pulled all sorts of tricks to shirk troublesome tasks.
-Cough, suddenly, an old wound from Ahrack's Red Poison flared up...
-Oh dear. We'll handle the corpse disposal!
-Cough, this time, it's the curse I suffered during the Mold Plague...
-...Fine. Then we'll check the expiration dates on the poisons in storage.
-Cough, cough.
-Ugh. We'll do it. What now? Grading?
-This time, I'm just coughing!
But these tricks stopped working after just a year or two in the Black Magic school.
Unless they had a personality like Diret's, even the most devoted students would eventually see through them.
Ogoldos was no exception.
"Professor. I'm saying this for the sake of our school. Please tone down the fake illnesses..."
"Cough, I told you it's not fake! Stop suspecting me. Last time, I even took care of things myself—why don't you remember that?"
"That was because His Majesty forced you to."
"No, it wasn't. I was going to handle it anyway. Cough. Oh, a letter arrived."
Professor Mortum, noticing his students' increasingly hostile glares and the brewing atmosphere of long-held grievances, quickly changed the subject.
Not for nothing was he a professor.
"Did you prepare that letter in advance too?"
"It's from Professor Garcia!"
Mortum raised his voice loudly enough for all the students to hear and hastily unfolded the letter.
To avoid further misunderstandings from these troublesome students, he needed to read the contents quickly.
To Professor Mortum,
Right now, at the Moradi Family's fortress, black mages from 'Descendants of Ahrag,' 'Legion of Oondorgu,' and 'Obsidian Magic Tower' have arrived to invite student Lee Han. I thought you should know.
Garcia Kim
"!?!"
Professor Mortum's legs momentarily gave out, and he staggered. His students immediately berated him again.
"Professor. If you're going to be like this, just go inside and rest."
"What on earth is wrong with you now?"
"These... these idiots..."
As Mortum swayed unsteadily, another letter flew in.
To Professor Mortum,
I forgot to mention something, so I'm sending an addendum. It might be better if Diret comes instead of you. The black mages seem to hold quite a grudge against you.
Garcia Kim
"???"
Professor Mortum was once again bewildered by the contents of the letter.
If his previous shock had been due to the betrayal of wicked and despicable black mages, this time he was genuinely baffled, unable to comprehend the situation.
Meanwhile, his curious students gathered around and read the letter.
"Wardanaz got scouted!?"
"Honestly, it'd be more surprising if he didn't. If only the professor had faked his illness more convincingly..."
"...cough, that's not the point. The fact that these black mages hold a grudge—that's what matters."
Professor Mortum couldn't understand it.
Why on earth would those old black mages bear a grudge against him?
"Professor, perhaps..."
"Cough. If you bring up the fake illness again, I'll turn you into a ghoul."
"...No, no. Haha."
The Black Magic student who had been about to mention the fake illness again awkwardly retreated.
Ogoldos asked in confusion,
"Could it be because we've become slightly wealthier lately?"
"......"
"......"
"...Ogoldos. That doesn't seem likely."
The students were stunned by the absurd suggestion.
Of course, the financial situation of the Einrogard Black Magic School had improved somewhat, but it was nowhere near enviable.
If anything, they were more likely to be pitied than envied...
"Was it because we presented our black magic too well? But the Descendants of Ahrag also present excellent black magic..."
"Do they envy us for living outside the graveyard?"
"That can't be it. Those folks prefer living inside graveyards. I don't get it."
Professor Mortum pondered for a moment before shrugging.
Black mages were eccentric by nature.
And these black mages, who usually lived in seclusion among themselves, were even more peculiar.
"Cough, it must be a misunderstanding. I haven't done anything wrong."
"That does seem to be the case."
This time, even the students defended Professor Mortum.
Sure, the Einrogard Black Magic professor often faked illnesses and deceived his students, but he wasn't the type to rudely pick fights with others.
At most, he'd cough pitifully to gain sympathy!
"You should probably hurry and stop them."
"Cough. No need to rush. It's not like Wardanaz would actually join another black magic guild."
"You should probably hurry and stop them."
"......"
The students' indifferent reaction left Professor Mortum feeling slightly hurt.
Would it have killed them to at least lie and say, "No, Wardanaz respects you too much to go elsewhere"?
"Fine. Fine. I suppose I'll have to call Diret."
"I'll go get him. He should be in the Dormitory Tower—"
"Cough. No. He's in the Library."
"Huh? Why?"
"...There's a newly discovered black magic spell. He's comparing its structure to existing ones."
"Senior Diret added another research topic!?"
The students were shocked.
Even if Senior Diret was a madman who had chosen the fifth-year path, adding another research topic on top of that?
Professor Mortum suppressed his embarrassment and replied,
"Cough. It's a black magic spell I discovered."
"......"
"......"
For a moment, the students present thought to themselves,
"Wardanaz might actually join another black magic faction at this rate!"
'What are you all doing?'
The Crone asked, sounding utterly bewildered.
A group of eerie black mages—some of whom were literal corpses—had crowded into Lee Han's quarters, their noses practically pressed against the table as they feverishly discussed magic.
"Ah. My apologies. We were in the middle of discussing magic."
Lee Han politely apologized.
After having <Ahrag's Eye> forcibly taken from them (though it was more like they'd willingly given it away), the Descendants of Ahrag were thoroughly enraged.
Of course, the truth didn't matter to these eccentric black mages—what mattered was that they had lost face.
-You lot, show us some magic too!
-Krrk (Why should we?)
-Ha. Are you scared? Think you'll master it faster than 'Ahrag's Eye'? Well, your magic is pretty simple after all.
-Krrk (How dare you say that?!)
The other black mages immediately took the bait. They immediately began selecting the most difficult and arduous spells from their current masterpieces to throw into the mix.
-I'm not interested in that spell...
-Krrk (Learn it)!
-Not interested? Even better! Master it quickly!
-I said I'm not interested...
The black mages, now completely deranged, ignored Lee Han's protests and raged at him to learn the spell immediately.
In the end, Lee Han gave up and began practicing the black magic <Living Wall>, developed by the Legion of Oondorgu.
And he succeeded in mastering it.
-...Hahaha! Hahahahaha! Look! He mastered it faster than 'Ahrag's Eye'!
-Krrk (This spell's structure is inherently simpler, and the Gonadaltes magic he learned before was...)
-Shut up! Either way, he mastered it faster than 'Ahrag's Eye,' so your magic must be simple! Now, you're next!
-What nonsense are you spouting? I agreed to contribute my own funds, but I won't let the Obsidian Magic Tower's spells be used for your petty contests.
-Krrk (Scared?)
-Hmph. Even if you say that, I won't do it.
-Fine. That kind of persuasion won't work on someone like him. Listen well, brat. If you don't participate properly, we and the Legion of Oondorgu will join forces and spread everywhere that the Obsidian Magic Tower's magic is worthless. We might even report it to His Majesty the Emperor. Should we really grant authority to a tower like this?
-...Don't lie.
The Obsidian Magic Tower mage ignored the threat.
No matter what, they wouldn't actually do something like that.
Would those lazy bastards really travel all over the Empire just to rant about 'why the Obsidian Magic Tower's magic is worthless' over such a trivial reason?
Even in front of the Emperor and his officials?
-Look me in the eye. Do I look like I'm bluffing?
-Krrk (I'll do it no matter what).
-...You damn old geezers!
In the end, even the Obsidian Magic Tower mage was dragged into the bet.
The Crone listened to the explanation and cast a look full of contempt.
'Thought they were fools, but they're even dumber than I imagined.'
"By the way, why is that person crawling on all fours..."
Must've lost a bet. Not that I care.
The Crone answered coldly.
Mages sometimes crawled on all fours.
Either from long-term magical research ruining their backs or losing a bet—neither was particularly interesting.
"So, how did the negotiations go?"
Ah, right. I was going to talk about that. Good timing! Congratulations, kid. You're lucky.
The Crone cackled as she congratulated Lee Han.
It certainly seemed like powerful fortune was following the young mage before her.
Call it divine luck, call it fate—that inexplicable something.
Otherwise, there was no way that evil god worshipper would've lost his Authority and ended up dancing on her palm just for getting tangled up with her.
"It went well?!"
Indeed. Now if we find those Sanguiros bastards, we can pit them against each other. Doesn't it already make you happy imagining them tearing each other apart?
"Not to that extent."
What a boring brat. Now that you've gotten what you wanted, you're already turning cold toward this old woman.
"Not at all. Would you like some tea?"
...Now that's a novel suggestion. Before that, call those black mages over. For a bunch of greenhorns, they've got some nerve.
The Crone valued etiquette highly.
She could never tolerate black mages ignoring her when she was present.
"My apologies. They're not usually like this—they're just scrambling to find difficult black magic to win their bet... Actually, they usually hold great respect for you, Crone."
What nonsense is this?
"It's not flattery—they really came here because they had questions for you, Crone. They were looking for that stone tablet—"
!
The Crone's expression twisted into something vicious at those words.
A wicked idea had just occurred to her.
Then there's no need to call them. I'll tell them after this old woman leaves.