Mistaken for a Secret Benefactor (2)

Every autumn, when the first frost blanketed the earth, the mages of the Empire would gather in one place. It was for the Grand ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Arcane Academic Festival, also known as the Arcane Olympiad—or, more commonly, the Autumn Academic Conference.

To mages, this Autumn Academic Conference was not merely a venue for sharing knowledge. It was a battleground where geniuses from across the continent proved their achievements and vied for supremacy in the magical world. Furthermore, it served as a stage to indirectly flaunt the national power of their respective countries.

To borrow Julian's phrasing, it was the mages' Olympics.

Countless mages from all over the world flocked to the Imperial Capital for this conference. There was no complex reason why the Empire's Autumn Academic Conference, out of all nations, had become the Olympics of the magical world.

"Ugh. Is today's schedule finally over...?"

It was simply because the father of magic resided in the Imperial Capital. And this conference was the only public event he deigned to attend. His mere presence ensured that no magical symposium in human history had ever surpassed the authority of the Arcane Olympiad.

"Phew. In my twilight years, I've certainly been blessed with a good disciple."

And so, having concluded the first day of this year's Autumn Academic Conference, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Great Sage unwound in a townhouse owned by the Merkur Merchant Guild.

"Then, I wish you a comfortable evening, Great Sage."

The servant withdrew. Soaking his feet in a basin where herbs floated, the Great Sage recalled the events of the day. It had been a truly pleasant day. He had seen his disciples' faces for the first time in a while—

"Adlen, Master of the 1st Magic Tower, offers his greetings, Great Master."

"Have you been well, Master?"

They had caught up on recent news—

"Ah, right. Just so you all know, you have a new youngest junior."

"What? Since when?"

"Come to think of it... it's been about three years."

It was a joy to see his disciples, the Tower Masters, looking so healthy.

"What! Why are you only telling us this now?!"

"Yahoo! I'm not the youngest anymore!"

"Are they pretty?"

"When are you going to introduce them to us?"

It was a good day in many ways. Although the presentations by the novice mages had been tedious, that was only to be expected. There hadn't been any particularly groundbreaking presentations at the conference, but it wasn't bad to witness the passion of the promising young mages.

'But of course, the most satisfying part of today's schedule... is this evening.'

The Great Sage gently closed his eyes, inhaling the warm scent of herbs rising from his feet. Across from him, on the table, a gentle and elegant melody flowed from the brass horn of a gramophone.

The Great Sage exhaled a languid breath and looked around the room. On the floor was a top-tier carpet that sank plushly up to his ankles. In the fireplace burned premium magic coals that produced absolutely no smoke or acrid smell. Within arm's reach on the table sat a crystal decanter filled with a 900-vintage brandy. It was the pinnacle of luxury, a level of extravagance that even high nobles would struggle to enjoy easily.

'That boy... he must be absolutely swimming in gold.'

The Great Sage chuckled softly as he poured the amber brandy into a crystal glass. The face of his lovely youngest disciple floated into his mind.

"I don't know where he learned it, but he certainly knows how to treat his master right."

As he took a sip of the brandy, the rich, deep aroma of the oak barrel lingering on the tip of his tongue was exquisite.

With that, Louis thought about the merchant guild providing this lavish hospitality.

'The world is truly unfair. To bestow him with such talent, such looks, and then give him this level of business acumen on top of it.'

Recently, the name of the Merkur Merchant Guild had become the eye of the storm in the imperial business world.

According to the Great Sage's investigation, this guild had been driven to the brink of bankruptcy due to repeated sabotage and an overly honest approach. However, five years ago, they suddenly introduced three miracle drugs and emerged as a rising powerhouse. And now, that same guild had even introduced vaccines.

'Even though he released the patent freely, this guild ended up monopolizing the vaccine anyway.'

There was no such thing as a patent on the Schnabel Formula or the vaccine manufacturing process. Naturally, other merchant guilds had jumped into vaccine production as well. Yet, the result was still a total monopoly by the Merkur Merchant Guild.

'Perhaps it was a foregone conclusion.'

The reason was simple. The Merkur Merchant Guild had already completed all preparations before the vaccine was ever made public. Production facilities, distribution networks, and skilled labor. While other guilds were frantically trying to decipher the formula, Merkur was already churning out vaccines.

On top of that, there was the sense of security that came with being the original creator. A vaccine is something injected directly into the body. No matter how cheap it was, no one wanted to readily use an unverified drug.

The Merkur Merchant Guild, however, was different. They were a supernova that had appeared like a comet five years ago, introducing miraculous medicines almost daily. Recently, rumors had been circulating in the capital that any patient who hesitated to use Merkur's new drugs was a fool, proving that the guild had built immense trust.

As a result, even though the vaccine formula was public, people only sought out the vaccines produced by the Merkur Merchant Guild.

'They will soon become a 1st-Class Guild.'

The guild was currently the undisputed number one among 2nd-Class Guilds, with no rivals even close to their level. Considering the connections and capital they had established within the imperial court and high society, it was obvious they would be promoted to a "1st-Class Guild"—the pinnacle of the commercial world—within a year or two at most.

And the Great Sage's youngest disciple was now a major shareholder and co-manager, holding a 15% stake in that very guild.

"My word. If my tastes become this refined, I wonder if I'll be able to stomach plain water when I return to the Magic Tower."

A mock groan escaped the Great Sage's lips. Even ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠so, the pleased smile on his face did not fade.

Warm herbal water, premium brandy, the scent of a cigar lingering at the tip of his nose, and a nocturne tickling his ears. Having lived a long life, he had enjoyed all kinds of wealth and honor. Yet, this sweet luxury, offered with such care by his adorable disciple, felt uniquely special.

'And he said he would provide scholarship funds every year now.'

This year, Julian had sent 100 million marks to the Great Sage. But the Great Sage remembered the promise Julian had made last time.

— "After listening to you, Master, I recently established a scholarship foundation. But right now, because of the vaccine business, we have to reinvest heavily in the company. For the time being, this is all the support I can manage. Still, the business should be fully on track in three years. From then on..."

He had heard that the foundation was willing to invest 500 million marks annually. When he first heard that figure, the Great Sage couldn't help but chuckle.

— "Julian. Do you have any idea how massive a sum that is? What if you can't use it when you actually need it?"

— "Five silver coins per person."

— "?"

— "That is the price of the vaccine. If these vaccines become mandatory for everyone in the world, how many marks do you think I will earn every year, each time I develop a new vaccine?"

After hearing those words, the Great Sage decided to stop worrying about his youngest disciple's finances. Who was worrying about whose pockets? It was clear as day that before long, his disciple would become a tycoon wealthy enough to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with a ducal house.

Without exaggeration, if Julian proposed a political marriage to the daughter of a financially struggling duke, the duke would probably agree without a moment's hesitation.

'I heard his father doesn't even know Julian's current earnings.'

The only medicine the head of the Nihilit family held shares in was Quinine. The shares for all subsequent medicines belonged solely to Julian. As a result, the Baron only vaguely knew that Julian's income was substantial, but he couldn't even begin to guess the exact figures.

'Tsk, tsk. Quinine is nothing compared to Insulin and the vaccines; those are the real goldmines.'

At any rate, the massive donations provided by this giant guild and the hospitality services offered at this conference had left the other mages grinning from ear to ear. It had reached the point where even those arrogant magic casters praised the Merkur Merchant Guild as "a guild that understands honor."

'He's already got them wrapped around his finger, the clever rascal.'

Thinking of Julian, who had subtly slipped a leash onto the mages, the Great Sage shook his head in awe. It was then.

'Hm?'

The brow of the Great Sage, who had been basking in luxury with lazily closed eyes, twitched. The sound of the nocturne playing softly from the gramophone faded into the distance. Instead, a sharp pulse of mana surged from deep within his mind.

— Squeak. A very faint, sharp cry of a small beast.

A mansion in Sanctum Hill, dozens of kilometers away. The vision of the silk polecat left on the roof of the Baron Nihilit's estate was vividly overlaid onto the Great Sage's mind.

'What is happening?'

Fitch. His magic book and familiar. He had originally intended to use a mouse, but because it kept getting eaten by stray cats, he had to change it to a silk polecat.

The Great Sage set his brandy glass down on the table. Keeping his eyes closed, he fully absorbed the visual data Fitch was transmitting.

A dark room. A young girl, Freya, lying on the bed, hovering between life and death. And beside her was his youngest disciple, Julian, dripping with sweat as he held a syringe.

"It's going to sting a little, Freya."

After administering the medicine, Julian continued to nurse his younger sister. But the world, in its cruelty, repeatedly tried to snatch her life away. Finally, Julian sent the female priest out of the room and took a desperate gamble. He cast black magic on his sister. And then, an utterly unbelievable sight unfolded.

"My word..."

The Devil's Disease had been cured. And by black magic, of all things.

"Hahaha..."

A chuckle escaped the Great Sage's lips. It was a laugh of pure ecstasy at having found what he had sought for so long, mixed with a wry chuckle at his youngest disciple's overwhelming talent—a laugh woven from a complex tangle of countless emotions.

"Good heavens... To think the answer lay in black magic."

For the past several centuries, the Great Sage had witnessed countless miracles wrought by magic. It moved carriages without horses, lit fires without flint, conquered the seasons, and regulated indoor temperatures. Yet, no matter how much the era progressed and magic advanced, there was one domain magic could never encroach upon. Healing and life. Since the dawn of history, that had always been a realm reserved solely for the divine.

Yet at this very moment, a single boy was rewriting that history.

"Was it a mistake to make black magic a taboo...?"

Black magic was a discipline that directly interfered with life. Because of this, even a tiny speck of ignorance or a minor mistake often invited tragedy, and a mere hint of corruption could unleash disasters that would go down in history. That was why the world, including the Great Sage, had evolved to guard against and suppress black magic so fiercely.

"Magnificent."

Julian had shattered that prejudice and written a new chapter of history.

"Ha-ha-ha-ha! Magnificent! Truly magnificent!"

The Great Sage's heart, which had withered and dried over nearly a thousand years of life, began to beat frantically. His long-cherished wish, which he had half-abandoned—the miracle of healing through magic—had been realized by his disciple. And he had done so by curing the Devil's Disease, something even that high-and-mighty divine power could not achieve! It was a feat that none of his other disciples had ever accomplished!

"You are walking ahead of me!"

Until now, his disciples had been busy merely following the path the Great Sage had trodden. Of course, they had achieved feats that surpassed the Great Sage in their respective fields, but in the end, they could not break out of his mold. Yet Julian had shattered that mold and soared high for all to see.

The Great Sage downed the remaining brandy in a single gulp. The strong liquor burning down his throat tasted bland. It was because the new history of magic his disciple had just written was far more potent and exhilarating.

He laughed for a long time, bathed in ecstasy and joy. Since his disciple had achieved such a historic feat, it was only natural for him, as the master, to bestow a grand celebratory gift befitting the occasion. However, as he pondered what would make his lovely disciple happiest, a sudden practical problem crossed his mind.

The Great Sage's expression stiffened slightly.

"Hmm."

Setting the empty glass back on the table, the Great Sage leaned back in his chair and rested his chin on his hand.

'Fifteen.'

Julian von Nihilit. His age this year was fifteen.

For a commoner, it was an age to help out in the fields. But in noble society, fifteen was the age to start arranging engagements and scouting for potential spouses to secure the family's future.

It wasn't incomprehensible. In a world where titles were influenced by magical talent, and since talent as a magic caster was indeed affected by bloodline, it was not unusual for nobles to search for matches at this age.

However, thinking that Julian was already at that age made him click his tongue. 'Tsk. He should be focusing on sprinting forward right now.' The Great Sage frowned without realizing it.

The Baron Nihilit. Although the head of the family, Hendel, was a brilliant bureaucrat, the family itself was far too weak to be called a central nobility. Furthermore, Julian was thoroughly disguised to the public as a "talentless, dullard eldest son." If left alone, Hendel would undoubtedly seek out a daughter from some mediocre noble family with moderate wealth and power, and try to marry Julian off as a matrilocal husband.

"Out of the question."

The Great Sage's single blue eye sank into a cold gaze. Of course, as his master, he wished for his disciple to enjoy ordinary, comfortable happiness. But for Julian to bow his head to some run-of-the-mill noble lady and enter her family as a matrilocal husband? And for that woman to become a shackle around Julian's neck?

"That must never happen."

That would be a loss for humanity, and furthermore, a tragedy for the Great Sage himself. He wanted to see the bird soar, not be locked in a cage with ill-fitting shackles.

"Even the daughter of a Marquis would barely be enough."

The Great Sage clicked his tongue and shook his head. He wanted to find a match worthy of Julian by any means necessary. However, there was a fatal contradiction in this. 'But I can't exactly reveal Julian's identity to the world either.'

If it were revealed that Julian was the true owner of the Merkur Merchant Guild and the creator of the Schnabel Formula? On top of that, if it were known that he was the youngest disciple of the Great Sage? And further still, if it became known that he could cure the Devil's Disease? Not only the Imperial family, but kings and Tower Masters from across the continent would beat down the doors of the Nihilit estate, offering their daughters and granddaughters. But excessive attention only withers a flower. Julian had not yet grown enough to fully withstand the greed and scrutiny of that massive world. Moreover, he was a child who lacked the talent of a magic caster and struggled to protect himself. Burdening him with all of that was not something a master should do.

'What to do...'

Finding the absolute best fiancée worthy of his disciple's caliber while keeping his identity completely hidden. Even for the Great Sage, this was an immense conundrum. Resting his chin on his clasped hands, he sank deep into thought for a long time. "..."

After a long silence, the Great Sage's closed lips slowly curled upward into a smirk.

"Ah."

The Great Sage tapped the table lightly and nodded. Just one person. A figure who would perfectly match Julian once his talents fully bloomed flashed through his mind.

"Yes... she would be perfect."

A highly mischievous smile spread across the Great Sage's lips, though he did not dare utter the young lady's name aloud. Instead, he simply raised his empty brandy glass and made a toast to the empty air.

"I'll have to pay a visit to the Imperial Palace for a cup of tea sometime soon."

Just thinking about the battle of wits he would have to wage with that particular person made the Great Sage feel tired already. What would he have to offer that old fox this time? He had only taken on the role of Imperial Magic Advisor due to a single slip of the tongue in the past, but if he wasn't careful this time, he might end up as the Prime Minister for life. Still, it was a trouble well worth enduring for the sake of his youngest disciple.

Cutting off his train of thought, the Great Sage turned his attention to another matter. 'That aside, I should resolve the other issue as well.'

Before he knew it, morning had broken outside the window. While the Great Sage had been worrying over his youngest disciple, the moon had set and the sun had risen. To an 8th-Tier Archmage, sleep was a luxury, so he did not regret the passing of the night. Instead, he focused once more on the vision transmitted by Fitch.

'Since my disciple's loose ends are a bit sloppy, it is only right for his master to tidy them up.'

In his eyes, his youngest disciple was a naive lad who didn't even know how to protect his own interests. He was too naive, too kind. Almost like the saint recorded in the holy scriptures. But the Great Sage, who had lived for a thousand years, was not so soft.

'My apologies, young lady.'

Through Fitch's vision, he saw the low-ranking priestess exiting the front gate of the Nihilit estate. It seemed she had been summoned by the head ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of the family, Hendel, warned, and then released. Clutching a pouch of gold coins tightly to her chest, she was hurrying away from the mansion.

Watching her retreating figure, the Great Sage quietly commanded Fitch. 'Follow her.'

The Great Sage was one to believe in human potential. However, he did not unconditionally trust human goodwill or the tightness of their lips.

'There is no guarantee that the priestess will keep her mouth shut for the rest of her life once she returns home.'

Though she had received a chilling threat from a noble patriarch, fear was bound to dull with time. She would remain silent for now, turning that warning over and over in her mind. But human lips were fickle things; she might make a slip of the tongue while swept up in drink, or find the burden of the secret too heavy and seek out a confessional. And that tiny lapse would spread the secret like a collapsing dam. In that sense, Hendel Nihilit's method was far too soft. Fear alone could not seal a person's lips forever. It probably wouldn't even last a year.

The most foolproof way to silence someone was not fear, but giving them a vested interest that made it impossible for them to speak. The Great Sage's gaze slowly swept over the table. Academic conference materials, a mountain of invitations from nobles, and stacks of documents sent regularly by the Merkur Merchant Guild for reporting. Among them, a single document caught the Great Sage's single eye.

The Great Sage's eye narrowed like a serpent's. 'Come to think of it, they said that priestess has two daughters.'

Scribble. The Great Sage picked up a fountain pen. His neat handwriting glided smoothly across the high-grade parchment. Two letters of recommendation. One was for a special scholarship at the theological school directly under the Sun Sect monastery. The other was an admission recommendation for the High School division of the Imperial Academy. The sender was the Merkur Merchant Guild Talent Cultivation Foundation. The sponsor was kept anonymous.

"My apologies, young lady."

The Great Sage smiled deeply as he looked down at the two completed letters of recommendation. If even a master could be this devoted to his disciple's future, how much more so would a parent be?

"But I believe this won't be a bad deal for you either."

After all, the more golden a lifeline shone, the easier it was to slip around one's neck. Recalling that maxim, the Great Sage carefully folded the two letters of recommendation and placed them into an envelope.