Episode 962
Episode 962
"Then I'll keep that in mind for future opportunities."
"Good. You'll have plenty more chances to do this, so remember it well."
'That was a joke.'
Lee Han stared blankly at the senior's broad back, feeling utterly dumbfounded.
Where else would something like this happen?
Receiving a donation promise just for telling a story was such an absurd occurrence that it would likely never happen again.
"Anyway, Senior. Does this amount cover most of what's needed?"
"Pfft. Wardanaz. There's no set amount. Honestly, we didn't even have to do this."
"That may be true, but..."
While it was possible to proceed even with insufficient funds, wasn't the whole point of doing this in advance to avoid that exact situation?
"Don't feel pressured—just do what you can. And Wardanaz, you've already exceeded expectations several times over. Especially considering you must be busy with other club activities."
Lee Han couldn't admit that he'd only ended up helping because he was avoiding Professor Garcia's pursuit. Instead, he redirected the praise.
"If we're talking about hardships, you have it much worse, Senior. Especially since you're a fourth-year now."
"Uahahaha. Wardanaz. Don't be fooled by the other seniors' complaints. Only those who didn't study in advance whine like that. If you prepare properly, being a fourth-year isn't particularly hard."
"......"
As Falkrius spoke with a laugh, Lee Han felt two distinct emotions.
One was the thought, 'If this senior weren't so physically imposing, he'd have been punched several times by now.'
The other was a strange sense of déjà vu.
Why did Falkrius's words feel so familiar?
'I can't figure out why.'
With no mirror nearby, Lee Han ultimately failed to identify the source of this déjà vu.
"Besides, I owe a debt."
"A debt?"
"It's an old story. From the time of the Great Southern Spirit Famine."
Falkrius patted his ample belly as he spoke.
"Pfft. Wardanaz. I may look like this now, but when I was young, I was so malnourished I couldn't even get a proper bowl of porridge."
Though farming was fundamentally a battle against unpredictable weather, the continent's farmers had one additional enemy.
The magical beings that thrived on the land's abundant mana.
To mages, spirits were convenient entities—sometimes negotiable, sometimes even subservient. But to most people of the Empire, they were terrifying and unpredictable.
And when those terrifying, unpredictable beings converged through chance and necessity, forming a massive storm, calamity struck the Empire.
The Great Southern Spirit Famine was a disaster on such a scale that even Lee Han had heard of it.
He'd heard that the once-fertile and temperate breadbasket region had been devastated, forcing mass migrations...
"The ones who helped me when I was wandering alone were the priests of the Flemeng Order. I swore to myself then—I'd pass on the kindness I received to others."
"Senior..."
"I also swore I'd never go hungry again, but that oath was broken the moment I entered Einrogard. Uahaha."
"...Senior."
Lee Han felt his momentary admiration evaporate.
"Pfft. Wardanaz. You don't need to worry about my oaths. They're for my sake, not yours. You just need to focus on your own oaths—like dedicating your life to the advancement of imperial magic—"
"I never made such an oath?!"
"Huh? Doesn't everyone in the Wardanaz family swear something like that?"
Falkrius looked genuinely surprised.
Given the sheer number of rumors about the Wardanaz family, he often found himself realizing how mistaken they were.
"Well, it's probably close enough."
"It's not even remotely close."
Despite his junior's protest, Falkrius paid no mind and continued walking.
Their next destination was the home of a merchant affiliated with the Imperial Western Union Chamber of Commerce.
THUD THUD THUD
"It's Jongseoneon, the merchant who imports large quantities of wheat. He agreed to donate again this time. Thanks to you, junior, we have some extra time, so we should move it early."
"Indeed."
"We'll need to borrow some carts and wagons..."
"I'll just carry it myself."
"Huh? But that would be too much for your hands."
"Spare wheat can easily be carried with magic."
Pfft. "Wardanaz, you sometimes make the most insane jokes."
"?!"
The door opened to reveal a merchant whose face had turned deathly pale.
Startled, Falkrius asked,
"What's wrong?"
"I—I'm sorry, Priest Falkrius. I won't be able to provide the wheat I promised."
"That's fine. But is something the matter?"
"Well..."
"That damn bastard!"
Falkrius stormed ahead, seething with anger—a rare sight for the usually cheerful priest.
Lee Han's face had also hardened. The merchant's plea had infuriated him too.
The one who had taken the sacks of wheat Jongseoneon had secured was Bardan, a city noble of Granden City.
Bardan, a branch noble of the powerful Greenbell Family, had recently suffered a major blow to his reputation due to an attack by an evil mage.
Determined to restore his dignity, he decided to throw a grand banquet—but in the process of preparing for it, the merchant had suffered.
Banquets were always like this: while nobles laughed and enjoyed themselves, the lower classes had to pour their efforts into preparations.
Even after losing a significant portion of his wealth to the evil mage's attack, Bardan insisted on hosting the banquet at the same scale.
His servants, desperate to procure ingredients at dirt-cheap prices, had gone to Jongseoneon and threatened him.
Since Jongseoneon had no choice but to heed Bardan's influence if he wanted to keep doing business in Granden City, he was forced to hand over the wheat he had set aside for charity.
"Wardanaz. There's something you need to do."
"Should I cast Invisibility and pick the lock? Or climb over the wall?"
"..."
"No. If I get too worked up, I need you to hold me back..."
Falkrius, worried that he might lose his temper and cause trouble, wondered if bringing his junior along had been a mistake.
This Wardanaz junior was excellent at causing trouble—but not so much at stopping it.
"I should hold you back, Senior?"
"Yes. I trust you."
'Is that even possible?' Lee Han wondered if he'd have to blast Falkrius with a spell from behind if he got too agitated.
"Ah, Senior. This alley is blocked, so we'll have to go around. When Bardan's mansion collapsed last time, it took the alley with it."
"Wardanaz, how do you know that?"
Falkrius tilted his head in curiosity. Lee Han kept his expression neutral as he replied.
"I left early for another club, remember? That's when I heard the rumors. Some crazy mage attacked Bardan's mansion, apparently."
"Ah, Stedal of the Nago Family? I heard about that too."
"......"
Lee Han squeezed his eyes shut at how fast rumors spread.
Pfft. "You don't think he's the Headmaster's disciple, do you?"
"EXCUSE ME???"
"Why so surprised? There have been plenty of mages who caused huge incidents, only for people to later find out they were the Headmaster's disciples."
"Ah-ha."
Lee Han internally sighed in relief.
He had thought Falkrius was suspecting him.
"The real madman is Bardan, who forcibly took charity wheat for his own extravagance. Mages like Stedal aren't the crazy ones. Wardanaz."
Flustered by his senior's praise, Lee Han stayed silent. Falkrius, walking ahead, didn't notice.
"Hmm. Still, he is a dangerous mage."
"Huh? Why suddenly?"
At Lee Han's question, Falkrius pointed ahead.
Bardan's mansion still bore the scars left behind by the rampaging Water Spirit.
Even after summoning mages and craftsmen from the Stonemason Guild, broken sections remained everywhere—proof of just how violently it had raged.
"Look at that. Thoroughly demolished, I see."
"...Isn't it possible that the mage named Stedal just peacefully visited the mansion, and the spirit guarding the place accidentally went berserk?"
"Pfft—HAHAHA! Wardanaz. Why in the world would you make such an absurd joke?"
'Ugh.'
Lee Han inwardly groaned at his own unconvincing excuse.
If a mage infiltrated a mansion and horrific destruction followed, anyone would naturally think, 'Ah, that mage must've wrecked it.'
But it was genuinely unfair.
All Lee Han had done was sneak in and relocate the requested item.
Sure, he had knocked out the mansion's owner in the process...
'But the spirit going berserk wasn't my fault, was it?'
"Anyone here?"
Falkrius called out loudly to the people inside.
The Chamberlain, who had been ruthlessly rounding up servants for banquet preparations, strode out with an irritated expression.
"What do you want?"
"We're here about Jongseoneon the merchant's wheat."
"Who?"
"It seems there was a misunderstanding regarding the wheat meant to be distributed to the poor by Einrogard's mages and the temple priests."
Falkrius explained as politely as possible, wearing a diplomatic smile.
The wheat was originally pledged for donation, and an agreement had been made—yet, whether by mistake or not, the mansion's servants had taken it.
They'd return the money, so could the wheat be returned as well...
But the Chamberlain remained unimpressed.
"No."
"...Excuse me?"
"No. We're too busy preparing for our master's banquet."
"We said we'd return the silver coins."
"And then our servants would have to waste time running around to find and buy more, wouldn't they? We can't afford that kind of inefficiency."
Lee Han subtly took a step forward.
For all he knew, the man might be a polo enthusiast.
But the Chamberlain only shot back sharply.
"What?"
"Nothing. Uh, I'm from the Wardanaz family."
Even as he spoke, Lee Han felt a twinge of self-disgust.
He'd never flaunted his family name before in his life!
But if it helped his senior's cause, he could endure this much shame.
If polo didn't work, then maybe his family name would...
"...Are you threatening me now? A mage from Einrogard, and from the Wardanaz family? Do you think our master has no backing of his own?"
Had the actual master, Bardan, heard this, he might've reacted with, 'Sure, I bully pushovers all the time, but provoking the Wardanaz family is a bit...'
But ignorance breeds boldness.
The Chamberlain, accustomed only to lording over subordinates, had no grasp of the actual power disparity.
Thus, the shame fell entirely on Lee Han.
Merely invoking his family name was humiliating enough—but having it fail made the rebound twice as painful.
"Get lost. There's no wheat to fill the bellies of beggar brats. You should be grateful we haven't chased you out of the city yet."
For a moment, Lee Han saw sparks flare in Falkrius's eyes.
Recalling their earlier conversation, Lee Han hastily intervened.
"Senior! Calm down!"
"Th... thanks, Wardanaz."
Falkrius snapped back to his senses at his junior's shout. He couldn't cause a scene in front of him.
"Did I interfere unnecessarily? Should we just attack?"
"Pfft. No. Wardanaz. If we attacked everyone who acted this arrogantly, even a whole year wouldn't be enough. Let's go."
As much as he wanted to smash the front gates, Falkrius gave up cleanly.
Dealing with this kind of work inevitably meant encountering rude people like this. Frankly, this one wasn't even that bad.
As the two retreated, the Chamberlain muttered behind the door:
"Honestly, priests and beggar brats are indistinguishable these days."
"Let's go, Wardanaz. No time to waste on scum like that."
"You go ahead, Senior. There's somewhere I need to stop by first."
Lee Han's voice was icy.
He'd tried to let it go, but that last remark had crossed the line...
It seemed Stedal Nago would have to make another appearance and reduce this mansion to rubble.