Chapter 87
Chapter 87
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 86
Chapter Title: Librarian Ernst (7) - The Archmage's New Disciple
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Archmage's disciple.
What level would that be, exactly?
They say a disciple eventually surpasses their master, so even if not quite there yet, surely they'd be at least one rank below, right?
In conclusion, no, they weren't.
At least, it was true that Delphinarris Wayneheart's disciples possessed skills that were somewhat lacking compared to their master.
Delphinarris herself was 6th Circle.
Yet more than half her disciples were only 3rd Circle, and even those hailed as exceptional topped out at 4th Circle.
Not one had even set foot in 5th Circle, let alone matched their master's 6th.
Some attributed this to Delphinarris having too many disciples.
Trying to teach dozens single-handedly meant limited time and attention per student, they argued, which stunted their growth to higher realms.
In foreign lands, malicious rumors even circulated that she simply lacked talent as a teacher—or worse, deliberately sabotaged promising pupils to safeguard her own status.
"What nonsense."
Librarian Ernst flatly rejected such public assessments.
"Lady Delphinarris places immense value on fundamentals. Her disciples may seem to progress slowly at first, but that's because she invests so much time in building a rock-solid foundation."
Just as warriors marked 4th Circle—when sword aura manifests—as the divide between superhuman and ordinary, mages too held 4th Circle dear, the point where mana itself gained unique properties.
This view wasn't entirely baseless.
The same iron sword, when infused with sword aura, could shatter its mundane counterpart in a few strikes. Spells from mages whose mana had awakened unique traits outperformed plain ones in potency and efficiency.
Thus, some teachers focused solely on rapidly elevating disciples' circles.
Knights drilled only in mana circulation for ki cultivation, neglecting swordsmanship or physical training. Mages fixated on one element like fire or ice to crystallize their mana's properties early.
Delphinarris, however, shunned such hasty circle-chasing. She urged her disciples to master as many spells as possible and delve deeply into each one's principles and utility.
Even if one specialized in a single element, she insisted, explore everything first—then choose. Ignoring other spells just to climb circles faster was folly.
Her philosophy: Magic wasn't merely "used," but truly internalized.
"This approach may appear sluggish short-term, but its benefits compound as a mage's prowess grows. Like building on firm ground to erect a taller, stabler home."
"Hmph."
The great demon listening quietly to Ernst hummed through her nose.
"Even if you're right, how many experts would truly recognize and appreciate that?"
No matter how sound Delphinarris's methods, to the outside world, she was a master who'd produced zero 5th Circle mages.
Few would dare openly mock a renowned archmage, but the subtle whispers behind her back surely weighed heavy.
Ignore them at first and press on? Fine. But for decades?
"An old man nearing life's twilight might not easily admit, 'My lifelong way was all wrong!' and change course. Still, it's no surprise if he desperately seeks proof his theories hold—or someone to validate them. Right?"
Ernst didn't deny Lucidra's words.
He merely met her gaze with calm eyes.
"Have you discovered something?"
Sharp as ever, Lucidra admired inwardly.
Then she said,
"I smell one of my kind."
Delphinarris Wayneheart's mansion was utterly textbook.
The image people pictured when imagining "an archmage's home."
A high, broad hill overlooking the city from afar, cloaked in blue grass.
A grand yet mystical facade blending timber and brick.
Gray smoke curling from the chimney.
Hardly accessible, yet visitors never ceased.
Maintaining friendly ties—to place a family member under her tutelage or borrow her magecraft in need—was vital.
Even those guests, however, steered clear of the grounds today, when Delphinarris's disciples gathered at their master's home.
Everyone in the kingdom knew Labelrosia's national treasure doted on her pupils and cherished time with them.
"Long time, senior brother. Heard your fur trade's booming—your complexion's glowing for it."
"Booming? Nothing special. Your house, Philip, struck gold with that new iron mine, eh? Good for you."
"Oh? Junior sister, that accessory... from Guillaume's atelier? Rare find. Wasn't that overdoing it?"
"Psh, this little thing? Pushing it? Sister, yours has real class. Vintage pieces hit different, huh."
The disciples themselves behaved—even those entangled in grudges outside restrained hostilities here.
Subtle jabs and snark flew, but mere light sparring.
"Eris, still set on Skyreach Academy post-grad? Dropout rate's brutal—half the entrants don't finish. Reconsider? Our family's recruiting mages right now..."
"I'm good, senior. Decision's made."
Eris's calm, firm reply sparked fleeting anger and irritation in her senior's eyes, swiftly masked.
"Alright. Change your mind later, let me know."
She watched his affable farewell with a blank expression.
Professor Merry lightly patted Eris's shoulder.
"Tough crowd. I get why you avoid alumni unless necessary."
"Nah. Here, they back off clean when pushed."
"Can't risk looking bad before Master."
Eris, the youngest disciple, ranked in the top ten by skill.
Considering those above her were all over fifty, her early-twenties prowess was extraordinary.
The sole disciple eyed for 5th Circle potential, she drew many suitors eager to claim her allegiance.
Not a few couldn't fathom why someone with guaranteed success would chase peril.
Eris scoffed at such pleas.
Political power? Cushy promotions? Pointless distractions.
Her goal: Ascend as a mage, earn her master's recognition.
"You'll definitely hit 5th Circle someday"?
Not nearly enough.
At minimum, 6th Circle—matching her master—to truly earn acclaim.
Rumble of voices.
As Eris pondered deeply, commotion stirred at one end of the mansion. A woman emerged from an inner room.
Gentle-faced brunette, thoughtful air.
Instead of mounting a dais for a speech, Archmage Delphinarris went straight to her disciples, greeting each warmly.
"Welcome, Ron. Wife doing better?"
"Thanks to your medicine, Master. Couldn't visit, but sends regards."
"Kioll. Belly's grown since last. Told you to get off that desk."
"Aigoo, Master. Age catches up. Can't hustle like before."
"Viola! You've improved. Thrilled to see your efforts pay off."
"All thanks to your guidance. I'll keep pushing."
Each harbored private motives, yet before their master, they turned meek as lambs.
Not purely selfless—too adult for childlike adoration.
But nor did they approach her solely transactional.
They too had youth under her wing, memories forged.
This might seem routine annual gathering, but today differed.
At Delphinarris's side clung a boy, Eris's age or slightly younger—like a chick trailing its mother.
Naturally, disciples greeting her turned curious eyes to him.
"Ho, this the new disciple?"
"Indeed. Remarkable talent."
Her bold assertion startled them.
Their master rarely compared disciples' talents openly.
Still, new maknae in tow—seniors ought welcome him.
"Pleased to meet you. Let's get along."
"Ah, yeah."
"?"
Greeters alike faltered in bewilderment.
The boy was curt.
Not shy nerves before superiors—blatant annoyance, unmasked.
They glanced puzzled at Delphinarris, but she gazed at him with dripping honey eyes.
Like a doting elder seeing only charm in her late grandson's antics.
Absurd, yet most disciples hid displeasure.
Pubescent brat? Annoying, but understandable. No desire to play villain before Master.
One couldn't gloss over it, though.
"You—Baron Grimrun's adopted heir? Your attitude's been off since we arrived."
Lafer Chepelin.
Late twenties, among younger disciples, he stepped forward.
"Youth excuses ignorance only so far. Mind this: Such rudeness tarnishes Master's honor too."
Delphinarris faltered slightly at the pointed critique, but others inwardly cheered.
The boy's response diverged.
"Me tarnishing Master's honor? Doesn't feel like it."
"That's the attitude in question. Not getting it?"
"Studied under Master like you, yet barely that skilled—now that's honor-tarnishing."
"Wh-what?!"
Lafer flushed crimson; others scowled.
Delphinarris deemed it excessive, reining him in.
"Enough now. Too harsh on your senior."
"...Mm, sorry, Master. Got heated, slipped up."
The boy slumped like wilted grass.
Yet Lafer—and Eris nearby—clearly saw it.
From Delphinarris's blind angle, the boy smirked at Lafer.
Lafer erupted.
"Master, don't stop me! For my house's honor, I'll straighten this brat here and now!"
"Calm, Lafer. He's just a child."
"No, it's fine, Master."
Courteous to her, laced with sly arrogance, he declared,
"If senior offers instruction, I'll gladly accept."
"...! Don't take that back later. Master, he consents—permit a spar?"
"Yes, Master. Seniors and juniors bonding—splendid, no?"
With parties insistent and others concurring, Delphinarris couldn't halt it.
Ernst asked,
"Meaning another demon besides yourself lurks nearby?"
"Not the demon herself—scent's faint. Probably a contractor."
"Gahk!"
Struck by the boy's mana bolt, Lafer foamed at the mouth, writhing on the ground.
Amid collective shock, the boy feigned innocence, telling Lafer,
"Lesson over? Learned well."
"Learned well" rang pure mockery, obvious to all.
Eris's pupils quivered wide.