Chapter 203
Chapter 203
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 203
Chapter Title: Part 2, Chapter 2: Harmonia (2)
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"If you cause any trouble, I'll send you right back."
"Don't worry!"
"We absolutely won't make any problems!"
Jamie's warning drew energetic responses from his two disciples, which only gave him a headache in its own way.
At least Hera was there to help.
"I'll make sure the disciples don't get in the way of your work. Don't worry."
"Thanks for handling it, Hera."
"Do you think we're kids or something?"
Lennon snorted as he grumbled, prompting Ann to shoot back seriously.
"We are kids."
"......"
Embarrassed, Lennon shot her a sullen glare.
Ann just stuck out her lower lip and shrugged.
"Anyway, it's a dangerous place, so be careful."
"Yes, sir!"
"Yessir!"
"If you can't even keep your mouths shut... Let's get going."
Jamie led the three toward the top floor of the central magic tower.
A messenger from Harmonia had already arrived to escort them personally.
"Pleased to meet you. I'm Pickett Ogee, envoy from Harmonia."
"Jamie Welton."
Jamie clasped the hand Pickett extended.
The man had a stiff face with prominent cheekbones—not the most pleasant impression.
But his magical prowess wasn't low; the mana radiating from him was substantial.
Pickett confirmed their numbers in a tone as rigid as his looks.
"Lord Welton Junior and three others. Confirmed. Please stand behind me."
Jamie, his two disciples, and Hera took positions behind Pickett as instructed.
Pickett placed the pre-provided recall scroll on the floor and began chanting with hands clasped.
The three elders who had come to see them off offered parting words.
"Take care, all of you."
"I trust you'll do well."
"They say Harmonia's pears are something special. Bring some back if you can."
Even amid it all, Luke's farewell was a request for local specialties.
Jamie chuckled and replied.
"If there's time."
"Hope there is."
"We'll be off, then."
""We'll be off!""
"I'll serve you well and return."
Lennon, Ann, and Hera followed Jamie's lead in bowing to the elders.
With preparations complete, Pickett bowed to the three elders and chanted.
"Recall!"
A warp magic circle etched itself on the floor, and a burst of light engulfed the five.
King Kiphurs of Harmonia lounged crookedly in the head seat, dressed in disheveled pajamas.
The crown perched precariously on his head as if it might fall any moment, and the shadows under his eyes betrayed his exhaustion.
"Yaaawn~"
The king let out a massive yawn and addressed his gathered ministers.
"So, what's this about?"
He fiddled with a thick gold necklace while eyeing the subordinate right beside him.
The man with green emeralds embedded in both ears, Marquis Helm, smiled in a crescent with his large eyes.
"The master dispatched from Selham Kingdom will arrive soon, Your Majesty."
"Oh? Then why drag me here?"
King Kiphurs scratched his belly peeking from his rumpled pajamas and shot back.
"Even if it's a hassle, you should go greet them."
"What? Why me?"
"Because we're the ones who begged for this."
"Tch. Hey, bring some booze."
It was early morning, but no one dared point it out as the king called for alcohol.
Ignoring all decorum, he spat vulgar curses first.
"Fuck. Selham is Selham—if they want something from a king, who the hell are they to order me around?"
"We share your frustration."
"Then why are they coming?"
"Didn't Sir Cyril get murdered by the liberation army?"
"What? Cyril? Oh, right... yeah. My memory's been fuzzy lately. But what's this liberation army?"
"Those lowly scum rebelled despite Your Majesty's boundless grace."
"Tsk tsk. They should be grateful just to live on this land, the vermin. What are the troops doing? Not crushing the pests?"
"That's why we requested a master from Selham."
"Oh? Is that it? I didn't know. Happens. Right?"
"Indeed, Your Majesty."
The seated ministers bowed in unison and replied.
King Kiphurs grinned lazily, then downed the proffered drink heartily.
He'd long lost his sense of taste, but flavor didn't matter. It made him feel good—that was enough.
As he poured himself another, Marquis Helm spoke up.
"So, what if we sway the Selham master they sent to our side?"
"Recruit him? Who's coming?"
"Jamie Welton, they say."
"Rings a bell. The genius, right? Genius. But why bring him?"
"Because Sir Cyril's absence is too great."
"Hm... But isn't he young?"
"That's exactly why we can bring him. Kids are weak to temptation."
"Hahaha! Spot on."
Jamie Welton was 13.
Beyond promising, he was a full-fledged grand mage, but still just a boy.
Sure, more mature than his peers, but humans couldn't resist temptation no matter the age.
Especially not at 13—no need to explain further.
"Promise him the archduke's seat and hand over all of Sir Cyril's territory. Even the most brilliant child couldn't resist."
"Do I really need to go that far?"
"Sir Cyril's vacancy is too large."
"Is that so?"
The same point repeated endlessly, but Marquis Helm answered patiently each time without frustration.
"Jamie Welton will become a monumental figure. A talent to shape Harmonia's future—we must use any means necessary."
"Heh heh. Good, good. Cyril was a nag. Always nagging me to quit drinking."
"Exactly. With that pest gone, everything bends to Your Majesty's will..."
"But if Jamie Welton doesn't bite, Selham won't sit idle once they learn."
The laughter halted as a young minister in the corner spoke up quietly, souring the mood.
Marquis Helm called him lowly.
"Count Peytal."
The man called Peytal, Neo Peytal, stood and offered counsel to the king.
"Failing to secure Jamie Welton could cost us Selham's goodwill entirely."
"Mm? I don't want bad blood with Selham—"
"We've been taught to greet foreign envoys with utmost courtesy. Even if young, he's a northern hegemon's master and grand mage. Age alone doesn't measure him."
"So, Count, you're saying I'm wrong?"
"Not that the marquis is wrong, but the risks are too high now."
"That's precisely why we must pull Jamie Welton to Harmonia. And our offer is no trifle."
"He's also the Welton heir. No reason to eye Harmonia's lands. If it backfires, even the remaining populace..."
"Silence!"
Marquis Helm cut off Count Peytal with a fierce glare.
"I understand your concerns, but doesn't my will serve the people too? What 'people' even? As long as Your Majesty, I, and the nobles exist, the masses do. They just follow our lead. The liberation army? Vermin who couldn't even obey."
"That's your rotten chosen-people bullshit that's ruined this country!"
"Chosen people... Ridiculous. Then why do kings and nobles exist? To rule."
"Your Majesty! Get a grip! It's you who must care for the people, not this man!"
Marquis Helm and Count Peytal glared daggers at each other.
The marquis laughed first.
"No need to listen. Face reality, Your Majesty."
"Reality. Yes, reality must be faced."
Count Peytal ground his teeth and pressed on.
"That's why we must proceed cautiously."
"Meaning Your Majesty should yield to Jamie Welton?"
Marquis Helm sneered back.
"That's not what I—"
"Enough. Helm's right. Who dares tell me to yield? I'm the great king of Harmonia, king! Heh heh. Jamie Welton? He should be the one bowing. Yeah. Of course."
"Please retire now. Leave everything to me."
"Right. I trust you, marquis. Cheers!"
Having downed a whole bottle already, King Kiphurs nodded with a drunken grin.
Count Peytal was speechless at the king's state.
Marquis Helm shot Neo a gleeful look as he helped the king up.
"You're quite drunk. Leave state affairs to me and rest until the Selham guest arrives."
"Heh heh heh~ Got it~"
As the pair left, the other ministers followed.
Left alone, the count sat silently, fists trembling.
His head throbbed.
Harmonia flickered like a candle about to gutter out.
Yet they spouted nonsense, blind to reality.
Because their vile chosen-people ideology let them dismiss the liberation army of commoners.
'No. The country's rot stems from Marquis Helm.'
After the late king's death, Helm had rapidly expanded his influence.
He'd inflated the nobles' innate elitism and corrupted the current king—the true puppet master of Harmonia.
The crushing taxes, starving masses, rising deaths from noble abuses—all since Helm seized power.
Many loyalists had risked their lives to warn, but pleasure-drowned Kiphurs turned a blind eye and deaf ear.
And Helm eliminated them one by one.
Only Count Peytal remained.
Thankfully, House Peytal held sway in Harmonia with many followers, buying time.
'I'm a candle in the wind too.'
Stagnant water rots.
The count mulled the proverb.
A light burst from the rooftop of the magic tower in Kiyum, Harmonia's capital.
It was the warp magic from Selham.
Pickett, the envoy and guide, stepped out first and addressed Jamie's group.
"We've arrived."
"Urgh..."
"I feel sick..."
No sooner had they landed than Lennon and Ann groaned in misery. Even Hera looked queasy, though less so.
Selham's warps already induced nausea; a mere scroll-activated one was bound to flip stomachs.
"Told you not to follow..."
Jamie channeled holy power to soothe their guts.
Then the rooftop door opened, and a group emerged.
Leading them was a wizened old man with a bushy gray beard and fine navy robes.
Harmonia's magic tower lord and senior mages, no doubt.
Yet they were festooned with gaudy baubles that didn't suit them.
As Jamie frowned, Pickett greeted the apparent tower lord.
"We've just arrived."
"Good work, Pickett. His Majesty is coming here, so you're dismissed."
"Understood."
Pickett gave Jamie's group a curt bow and vanished behind the mages.
The elder, Tower Lord Zakan, approached Jamie with a smile and extended his hand.
"Delighted to meet Selham's master. I'm Zakan, lord of Harmonia's magic tower."
Jamie sized up Zakan, who introduced himself as tower lord.
Huge gemmed earrings and necklace; his fingers were crammed with rings that were just jeweled, not artifacts.
Fine, appearances were one thing.
Taste varied.
What mattered was skill—and Zakan was Harmonia's grand mage.
But.
'Barely mid-7th class.'
Impressive to reach grand mage, but Zakan topped out at mid-7th even generously.
And he was tower lord.
Harmonia's level was plain as day.
"Jamie Welton."
"To meet the famous Welton Junior in person... Heard you're 13 this year, but your height."
Zakan looked up slightly, surprised.
Jamie clearly stood half a head taller.
"Hoh ho. A true Welton heir."
"Thank you."
"And those behind you?"
"My disciples and secretary. They wanted to observe, so I brought them."
"Observe... you say?"
Zakan eyed Jamie and his group dubiously.
This wasn't a vacation spot—they'd begged for aid to end a civil war, and now disciples sightseeing?
It belittled Harmonia, but the guest was Selham's master.
And despite the youth, he wasn't inferior—quite the opposite.
'Cheeky brat...'
Zakan seethed inwardly but smiled.
"Ha ha. His Majesty will arrive soon. He insisted on greeting Selham's master personally."
"I see."
"Rest easy. Show them to their rooms."
"Yes."
One mage led them to spacious quarters.
Zakan watched them go, then ground his teeth and muttered.
"Cheeky. Pumped up as a genius, now he's rude. Holding his head high before elders, half-hearted replies."
"Exactly. Skilled, maybe, but no manners."
"His skill's probably overhyped too. He's just 13."
Gossip erupted as soon as Jamie left.
Zakan nodded.
"Right. Rumors inflate. Seeing him myself, I get it. Talented, sure, but about my level."
He knew full well Jamie outclassed him, but his mages lacked the insight.
"As expected!"
"How many mages surpass our tower lord?"
"E-enough. His Majesty comes soon—prepare properly."
Embarrassed that his blatant lie was swallowed, Zakan waved them off dismissively.
"Pathetic."
Jamie snorted.
Assuming voices wouldn't carry from this distance was naive; riling underlings with lies about his incompetence was pathetic.
And the mages fawning with fake praise for such a lord—pathetic all around.
Harmonia's magic tower was pathetic incarnate.
'And what's with all the gaudy crap in the halls?'
The wall paintings screamed value; even the lanterns were solid gold on closer look.
Who used lanterns these days?
As Jamie eyed the ludicrous luxuries, the guide spoke.
"Lord Welton Junior, this room is yours. Your disciples and secretary can take any nearby."
They'd arrived at their stay.
Jamie thanked the guide.
"Appreciated."
"Rest well."
Once the guide left, they entered their assigned rooms.
Jamie unpacked lightly and scanned his.
Opulently furnished.
No clue why a magic tower needed such, but it was for him.
"Why so many expensive decorations?"
The halls too—pointless pricey trinkets everywhere.
Tower lord's taste?
'He was decked in gems too.'
It grated.
Magic towers were for magic research.
And research funding was never cheap.
Better invest in that than meaningless extravagance.
If Harmonia were rolling in wealth, maybe—but as he knew, they'd issued bonds to western nations and were in debt.
Not for nothing they'd offered national treasures to northern Selham for a master's dispatch.
"Now I see why His Majesty delegated full authority."
Act as the dispatched master deems fit.
Recalling the order, Jamie perched on the bed.
Moments later.
"His Majesty the King has arrived."
Harmonia's king was here.
Jamie slicked back his hair and stood.
"Let's see how rotten he is."