Episode 1294
Episode 1294
"Gainando, think carefully. Of course Senior Diret told you, but don't you think Professor Mortum might have been there too?"
Refusing to give up, Lee Han attempted to manipulate his friend's memory.
Human memories were naturally soft and malleable like pudding, easily distorted. Especially Gainando's memories—they were even more so.
"No? I don't remember that."
"I told you to think carefully."
"There's nothing. Professor Mortum is always bothering Lee Han with annoying tasks. Or Senior Diret."
"I knew it! I knew this would happen!"
Bang!
The black mages slammed the table violently and shouted.
With lingering resentment from when they had boasted about their disciples during the gathering, Gainando's accusation provided the perfect opportunity.
"We should use this chance to have him expelled from the Imperial Black Mages!"
'This is bad.'
Lee Han gave up.
Thinking about it, this was partly Professor Mortum's fault too. If he hadn't lost the goodwill of his students, Gainando wouldn't have accused him in this situation.
"To Black Rock Hall! We must drag Professor Mortum from his seat of authority!"
"Wait! What about my magic?"
Professor Verdus panicked and shouted as the black mages tried to take Lee Han away.
He hadn't even heard the secrets of magic from the black mages yet, nor had he passed on the Small World technique to Lee Han.
The Descendants of Ahrag exchanged glances.
Then they quickly set the floor on fire. The flames were far larger and more intense than the ones Gainando had started earlier.
"What are you doing?! What are you doing?!"
"Hmph. Be grateful we're not burning you alive. Let's go!"
"......"
While Professor Verdus frantically ran around trying to put out the fire, the black mages took Lee Han and Gainando and swiftly left the magic tower.
Watching this, Lee Han thought to himself:
'Maybe... there's some basis for the prejudice against Imperial Black Mages.'
Diret glanced at the mirror and thought:
'An undead I've never seen before?'
A moment later, he realized it wasn't an unfamiliar undead—his own condition had gone awry.
'Oh no. They say when a black mage sees an undead in the mirror, it's already too late.'
It seemed that taking short breaks wouldn't cut it anymore. He might need a longer rest.
'Three minutes... too long? Maybe two minutes and fifty-five seconds.'
Splashing cold water on his face, Diret skimmed through the pile of paper birds by the window before burning them all with a flick. They were letters sent by Yukveltire, who was currently heading to the capital.
'Why is she so obsessed with that...'
Normally, Yukveltire would be busiest during winter break, but she was wasting her time on something strange.
Namely, the <Dragon Statue Incident> that had occurred in the capital.
Rumors had spread through letters that someone had impersonated Yukveltire to create a living dragon statue, and her pride thoroughly wounded, she had decided to see it with her own eyes and put an end to the nonsense.
It wasn't entirely incomprehensible. For a mage, pride was indispensable.
What if someone was impersonating her name to create magical works?
And what if those works were something she couldn't create with her current magic?
Diret might have lost sleep over it too.
But still, to actually travel to the capital to verify it...
'Just how many letters did she get...'
Though it was precious break time, Diret eventually gave up on stopping his thoughts and pondered seriously.
What could be the truth behind this incident?
The most plausible explanation was baseless rumors spread by some fearless fraud or impersonator, but there were too many unsettling details to dismiss it outright.
The identities of those who had sent letters to Yukveltire were credible, and their testimonies were detailed.
'There are too many consistent parts in the testimonies. There might really have been some magic that could have been the source of the rumors.'
If it wasn't just a rumor...
Who would have both enough ill will to impersonate Yukveltire and the enchantment magic skills to create a living dragon statue?
'Petrogard?'
The first thing that came to mind was the magic academy where eccentric enchanters gathered.
This magic school disliked Einrogard's enchantment magic professors (though to be fair, all mages disliked them) and had enchanters skilled enough to create living dragon statues.
Especially the latter was important.
They were those who deeply delved into primitive enchantment magic, striving to complete spells difficult to achieve with the Empire's current magic through inspiration and luck based on aesthetic sensibilities.
One of their characteristics was creating magical works that seemed to bestow life like that. It was the complete opposite direction from Yukveltire's magic.
'Would Petrogard mages suddenly come to pick a fight? Thinking about it, there are plenty of reasons... But they should be well aware of their own weaknesses.'
The weakness of Petrogard mages lay in their reproducibility.
Even they couldn't reach their peak without inspiration or luck—what made them so confident to start trouble?
Those who witnessed it in person would have known that much. The more he thought about it, the more confused he became.
'Who could it really be? Did some new genius appear in Petrogard?'
As Diret came down to the workshop, his eyes widened at the snacks laid out on the table.
A ham and egg sandwich under a warming spell, hot vegetable soup, black tea, and honey pie.
At first, he thought it was some monster helping a black mage straight out of a fairy tale (other schools had fairies helping, but the Black Magic department usually had monsters), but upon reflection, that couldn't be.
The undead, who always schemed to stab you in the back the moment they were summoned, would never do something so thoughtful. This had to be the work of his junior.
'Come to think of it, he said he'd be stuck here during vacation too...'
Realizing the junior couldn't even leave during the break made Diret feel even guiltier about getting angry last time. He reflected deeply.
Senior. I'm rooting for your next academic year. By the way, you absolutely must not eat the professor's meal over there. Seriously, you must not eat it.
"......"
Unconsciously, Diret found himself staring at the food placed on Professor Mortum's table.
The meat looked cold, shriveled, and dried out, and the bread somehow appeared suspiciously dark.
'It couldn't possibly be poisoned, could it?'
Though slightly worried, Diret decided to trust his junior. Given the junior's personality, he wouldn't go as far as to poison it.
...Probably!
Thud thud thud thud—
'Who is it?'
At the sound of someone violently knocking on the Black Rock Hall's door, Diret set down his soup bowl and walked to the window.
Below stood an utterly unexpected group of people.
"?!!"
"Open the door!"
"...Are you properly authorized to enter?"
Diret eyed the Descendants of Ahrag with deep suspicion.
Ever since they had tried to whisk away his junior in the North, other black magic factions in the Empire had lost all credibility.
The idea that black magic factions should unite was nothing but empty words. Diret was starting to understand the Skeleton Principal's words a little better these days.
'You never know when they'll stab you in the back!'
"We're properly authorized! Here! Look at this! Is that bastard Mortum not in?"
"The professor has stepped out."
"That cunning, sly bastard. He must have fled knowing this would happen!"
"???"
For a moment, Diret felt his heart stop with dread.
Don't tell me...
"Did the professor borrow gold coins from you!?"
"Ah, no. We'd have to be insane to lend anything to Mortum."
"Phew..."
Letting out a sigh of relief, Diret wiped his brow. Then, his eyes fell on two juniors among them.
"What are you two doing there!? Were you kidnapped or something!?"
"What kind of nonsense is that... Do you take us for someone like Professor Verdus?"
The Descendants of Ahrag protested, but Diret didn't even pretend to listen.
After the incident of junior abduction in the North, their credibility had sunk to the depths of the abyss.
'This is truly going too far.'
The elderly black mages grumbled internally.
Of course, they had tried to scout outstanding talents, but that was merely fulfilling their duty as mages.
Now that it was all in the past, couldn't everyone just forget and reconcile?
"These gentlemen visited and we happened to meet. Nothing serious happened..."
"Oh, by the way, Professor Verdus's magic tower caught fire."
"Shut up, you brat."
Lee Han swiftly silenced Gainando. The way Senior Diret was glaring at the black mages was far too sharp right now.
"You set Professor Verdus's magic tower on fire?"
"No, that's not it. There was just a slight misunderstanding..."
"...Actually, that doesn't matter. Fine. Come in."
After a brief hesitation, Diret opened the door to Black Rock Hall.
Upon reflection, whether Professor Verdus's tower was on fire or not wasn't his concern.
It wasn't like they'd set fire to their juniors or anything...
The elderly black mages, who had been made to wait outside, grumbled as they entered.
"Diret, are you aware? While you've been wasting time like this, an enormous conspiracy has been unfolding outside?"
"I find it curious how you praised my thesis on homunculus magic so highly last time, yet now you call it a waste of time... So, what's this conspiracy? Were some evil mages trying to abduct juniors again?"
Diret's voice was icy as he spoke with chilling indifference.
Lee Han and Gainando had never seen this kind senior treat anyone with such an attitude before.
He hadn't even acted this way toward Professor Verdus!
"Ah, let's forget about the past. These things happen among black mages."
"Oh, Senior. These gentlemen here complimented me earlier."
Gainando spoke with pride.
But in this situation, it was possibly the worst thing he could have said. Diret's eyes immediately turned fierce.
"Get out. Before I activate the tower's magic."
"No, no! It was a genuine, innocent compliment with no ulterior motives! Explain properly, you brat!"
The descendants eyed Gainando with suspicion.
At first, they'd thought he was just a talented and promising young black mage, but the more he spoke, the more it felt like he was leading them into a trap.
Was he deliberately acting naive while secretly plotting something?
"When did we ever say we'd take you away?!"
"Huh? But you invited me..."
"O Black Rock Hall, by the power of shadows—"
"A hundred years! We said we'd invite you in a hundred years! A hundred years from now!"
As Diret began chanting, the elderly black mages desperately shouted.
Though he didn't retract his suspicious glare, Diret stopped the incantation. The black mages collapsed into their seats, panting.
They felt like their lifespans had shortened in that brief moment.
"So, what's this conspiracy?"
"Professor Verdus was trying to teach Small World Magic!"
Lee Han had been sitting quietly, listening without much thought.
Unlike the slightly unhinged black mages, Senior Diret was a sensible and upstanding person, so there was no way he'd get angry over the fact that Professor Verdus had tried to teach Small World Magic first.
If anything, he'd sternly reprimand the overreacting black mages...
But Senior Diret's reaction defied Lee Han's expectations.
The Empire's finest senior looked at his junior with an expression mixed with bewilderment, disappointment, sorrow, and confusion.
"...Is that true?"
At that, Lee Han immediately exclaimed,
"Why would that selfish, evil mage force magic teachings on anyone? If it weren't for the help of these black mages here, I would've had no choice but to learn it. Everyone, thank you once again!"
"Ah, this admirable boy. The legacy of the Empire's black magic rests solely in your hands!"
The elderly black mages gazed at Lee Han as if they couldn't be prouder.