Episode 1181
Episode 1181
After sending his friends ahead, Lee Han picked up the box containing the cloth that was scattering pitch-black darkness.
Given that he went out several times more than other students, it was inevitable that the professors would notice. He had to give gifts whenever he had the chance.
"But what kind of cloth is this? It seems like a composite material..."
"Right? It doesn't look like something sold in the market. Did students at Einrogard make it and bring it out to use? There aren't many places besides the Black Magic School that would make such dark cloth."
Diret also seemed puzzled, likely thinking the same thing.
The Enchantment Magic department often imbued cloth with magic, but the Dark Element was quite an unusual element among all the elements.
Unless it was the Black Magic School, there weren't many who would bother handling such an element—so why?
'Was it made by former graduates and left abandoned?'
"It doesn't seem like it was made by former graduates."
"Why not?"
When the junior naturally denied the thought that had just crossed his mind, Diret asked back in surprise.
"If the graduates had made it, they would've definitely used it. The Black Magic School's environment isn't so abundant that they'd leave something like this lying around."
"...W-well, we sometimes leave things behind too, why..."
Diret tried to argue back, but his voice unconsciously grew smaller.
Honestly, if anything, the environment when their seniors were around was even harsher—it certainly wasn't better.
'These damn brats!'
The Ninth almost shouted in his box form without realizing it.
To think the Black Mages, who were supposed to lead the Einrogard Black Magic School, would act so spinelessly.
He wanted to roar at them right then and there.
A true Black Mage should be able to slap someone across the face if their shoulders so much as brushed against a passerby and boldly dig up corpses from their family graves without hesitation.
Honestly, why were youngsters these days so timid and weak? It was beyond him.
'Don't worry. I'll teach them soon enough.'
The Ninth prepared to reveal his true nature the moment he was left alone with the young Wardanaz brat.
He never expected to end up inside Einrogard, but a great Black Mage knew how to skillfully make use of coincidences.
"By the way, junior. Don't you plan to use this cloth yourself? You'd have plenty of uses for something like this."
At those words, the Ninth nodded his nonexistent head in satisfaction.
Who had made this cloth? He himself had.
A reaction like that was only natural, in a way.
"That may be true, but it'd be a bit awkward to visit the professor empty-handed after coming back from outside, wouldn't it?"
"Indeed... Huh? What nonsense is that?"
Diret tried to brush it off but suddenly reacted sharply. Lee Han gave his respected senior a bewildered look at the outburst.
"Did I make some mistake?"
"A mistake? Other than you joining the Black Magic School? No. More importantly, why are you worrying about the professor's reaction? Hand it over. The gift to the professor is canceled."
Realizing his junior was trying to give it away with such absurd reasoning, Diret snatched the box away.
Flustered, Lee Han took it back and said,
"No, it's not just for that reason. I don't have an immediate use for it right now either."
Diret snatched it back again.
"Then you can think of one now."
Using the mana manipulation technique knights employed, Lee Han swiftly reclaimed the box and said,
"I'll ask for it later if I need it. Didn't the professor just say he needed this kind of cloth?"
"That's a lie. ...Hey! Use magic, you cheat!"
When his junior shamelessly dodged using knights' techniques, Diret flared up in anger.
The Ninth, being jostled back and forth, cursed them both inwardly.
'Black Mages squabbling over such a pathetic reason.'
Fortunately, the scuffle soon ended. Diret had ultimately lost to his junior's stubbornness.
"Don't give it all to the professor. Make sure to keep your share."
"......"
Lee Han thought to himself, 'Shouldn't you be the one to follow that advice first?'
"You're thinking 'The senior should know better,' aren't you?"
"?!!!"
"...I'm saying this because I failed, so at least you should do better!"
Diret wielded his seniority privilege.
It was pure coercion toward his junior. Lee Han grumbled inwardly.
He was absolutely determined to pay this forward to his own juniors someday.
"Professor. We've arr—"
"Cough, come in."
"......"
"......"
As Lee Han and Diret opened the door to Black Rock Hall's first floor, they were rendered speechless by the lavishly decorated interior.
The tower was lit up festively with dazzling lights, and the tables were piled high with all manner of food—it was downright surreal.
Of course, upon closer inspection, one could still recognize it as Black Rock Hall.
The "lights" were just candles placed inside the skulls that usually rolled around haphazardly, and the banquet table's dark, murky color revealed it was the same table normally used to pile poisons to their absolute limits.
"Senior Diret, did you perhaps tell them you're transferring to another school?"
Lee Han asked, utterly baffled.
Since when did Professor Mortum have the money for preparations like this?
And that question finally made Diret explode.
"...It's you! You! It's because of you! You, junior! I'm a fifth-year—who transfers schools as a fifth-year?! Where have you ever seen someone switch schools when they're almost graduated?!"
"My... my apologies."
Coming to his senses belatedly, Diret hesitated.
He was the one who'd done something embarrassing up north, yet here he was taking it out on his junior.
"But, Senior."
"...What?"
"Even if transferring schools is impossible, you could still join another Black Magic organization."
"......"
"Cough. Wardanaz. Diret has a sense of responsibility to carry on the Einrogard Black Magic School's legacy—he wouldn't do that."
"Pfft. People go where the conditions are better. I heard the Obsidian Magic Tower is rolling in money."
Lee Han answered without batting an eye.
Well-meaning Black Magic students had this habit of wanting to strangely enable others' escapes even if they couldn't escape themselves.
Worried they might lose present talent while trying to protect future talent, Professor Mortum quickly intervened.
"Cough! Our school isn't that far behind now!"
"Pfft. What nonsense... If that were true, then Gainando's family wealth would be no different from a beggar's."
'And here I thought you wanted to make a good impression on the professor...'
Diret thought to himself.
For someone who'd brought gifts to curry favor with the professor, Lee Han was being awfully bold.
But Professor Mortum, who had many shortcomings, praised Lee Han instead of scolding him no matter what he said.
"Cough, your joking skills have improved as much as your Black Magic prowess."
"I wasn't jo—"
"What's this?"
"Ah. I brought some leftovers from outside. Thought you might need them."
"Indeed. Cough, I'll take these to the basement storage."
When Professor Mortum personally lifted the box, Diret was impressed.
Seeing someone who'd cough at the slightest exertion do this made his sincerity undeniable.
"Such affectation..."
"Junior. Don't be fooled."
Of course, the juniors weren't convinced. Diret reflected slightly.
Working under Professor Mortum for so long had conditioned him to overvalue even trivial gestures.
Creak—
Pretending not to hear his students' harsh critiques, Professor Mortum quickly retreated to the basement storage.
The demon Orlach greeted him warmly.
"Ah! Honored Mage! Was everyone satisfied with the meal? What did the young master say?"
Unbeknownst to Lee Han, this feast had been prepared by none other than this demon.
Shockingly, Orlach had gone to Inspector Uman to procure ingredients (using "treating Lee Han" as the key reason for his success) and personally tended the oven fires to cook diligently.
It wasn't because he'd taken a liking to the Black Mages of this tower—it was all for Lee Han.
If gaining the Wardanaz family's jewel's recognition meant preparing banquets like this thousands of times over, he'd do it.
"Cough. Ah? Yes. He praised your skills."
Professor Mortum lied through his teeth.
True to his nature as a Black Magic professor, this mage had no conscience whatsoever.
Normally, Orlach wouldn't have been fooled, but blinded by ambition, the demon practically jumped for joy.
"R-really?! What exactly did he say?!"
"That he wanted to take you on as his personal chef. Cough. But that's not important right now. I have a critical mission for you."
"What would that be?"
"This chest is actually a wicked Black Mage in disguise. You must absolutely prevent it from making contact with young Wardanaz."
"!"
-!
The Ninth was horrified to realize he'd been discovered and tried to revert to his original form.
But Professor Mortum had already cast a spell without anyone noticing, preventing the transformation.
'You... you damn brat!'
"An... an assassin?!"
"Cough, assassin? ...Yes! Assassin! You can think of it that way."
"Understood! I'll ensure no one makes contact with it!"
Orlach promised to employ his full demonic Authority to perfectly imprison this vile assassin.
The Ninth could only spew curses as he was dragged away, chest and all.
Such was the cruel world of Black Mages—one moment of carelessness, and there was no coming back.
After returning, Lee Han finished organizing the ledgers and reviewing the knights' reports before immediately diving into midterm preparations.
His declaration to Professor Garcia hadn't been empty boasting. He intended to complete all necessary tasks before exam period to join the search with the knights.
"Hmm..."
As Lee Han sat at the table agonizing over the lecture list—determining which subjects to study first—the Blue Dragon Tower students tiptoed past without daring to breathe.
Just glimpsing that lecture list felt like having one's sanity corrupted by madness.
"That's... quite a lot."
"......"
"......"
Yoner's eyebrow twitched as she studied nearby.
Gainando gestured, 'Shouldn't we tell him to snap out of it?' but Yoner shook her head.
She wanted to say something, but this was still within the realm of their friend's usual behavior.
"I wonder if I can finish all this and still make it out."
"......"
"......"
Adenart wrote on paper, 'Shouldn't we stop him?' Gainando clicked his tongue in exasperation.
'How dare...!'
Just as Adenart was about to snap at her rude junior, Lee Han stood up.
The Blue Dragon Tower students simultaneously bowed their heads, pretending to read.
Fortunately, Lee Han didn't glance at his friends, instead muttering to himself as he headed upstairs to his private room. He seemed deeply focused.
"Phew..."
-Gainando. Stop holding your book upside down.
"......"
Gainando made a face at the voice drifting down from above.
Sometimes, even as his friend, Lee Han could be terrifying.
"Master."
-Ah. It's been a while, disciple.
The Young Prince in the painting, who'd been reading, greeted Lee Han warmly.
"If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to ask about a few magical—"
-Disciple. It saddens me more when you keep your distance with formalities than when you bother me with trivial questions. Ask me anything comfortably. I wouldn't mind if you asked what I had for lunch today.
Unlike the Skeleton Principal or his Crazy Doppelganger—neither of whom tolerated pointless questions—the Young Prince's excessive kindness carried an unspoken pressure.
It made you feel absolutely forbidden from bothering such a person with trivial matters.
-Were you perhaps bringing that architectural blueprint to ask about it?
"Huh? Ah."
Lee Han glanced at the thick tome the senior Black Mages had forced on him. It was practically a book given its sheer volume.
"This is just trash they forced on me. Please don't mind it."
Lee Han tossed the book into a corner. He wanted to ask about lectures, not listen to the Black Mages' useless magic.
-It seems like decent magic, though. You're not hiding it out of embarrassment, are you?
"Absolutely not."
-Then that's that.
With a wave, the Young Prince transported the book into the painting, planning to read and evaluate it later.