Library 1
"I refuse."
An immediate reply. There was no need to even think it over. It would have tempted anyone else—an offer to become the direct disciple of an elder from Barte's faction, a 7th Circle mage at that. But not Licht.
He was one of only two 7th Circle mages in all of El Sion, but that was it. Licht had once woven eight circles together. When it came to understanding magic, he wouldn't concede to Schult in any other area.
He had no doubts. He never had.
How long would it even take?
The uncertainty of the timeline weighed heavily too. How many years would it take to rise through Barte's faction and become an elder? Licht didn't think entering the top floor of the Sage's Tower was worth trading away his freedom.
If it happened, great. If not, whatever. That was all it was to him.
"...What did you just say?"
"I refuse."
"Huh...?"
Schult's response came a beat late, as if he hadn't expected such a swift rejection without a hint of hesitation.
"The direct disciple of an elder in Barte's faction. Do you know what that means?"
"I do."
"It's a position you couldn't buy for any amount of money. I could give you anything you want."
Licht shook his head.
Schult blinked for a moment before bursting into laughter.
"Ha! You refuse my offer? To come under me, no less? Hilarious. If anyone else had said that, I'd have beaten them half to death. But for some reason, coming from you... it makes me like you."
He nodded vigorously to himself, as if he'd convinced himself of something. He really was a bit unhinged.
"My offer's too hard to accept, but you still need to get into the top floor of the Sage's Tower."
"...What the hell is Cherbito?"
"Ah, right. I forgot to explain."
Schult glanced at Aila, who was sitting beside Licht. She let out a small sigh and spoke up.
"It's the magic tournament held in El Sion every year. They gather mages from the local factions and pick one champion..."
"Win it, and you get one wish granted—anything you want. The sponsor's none other than Count Fredericksen, the lord of El Sion himself."
El Sion was called a city-state because its size, economy, and military rivaled a full kingdom. It exercised autonomy, making it essentially a kingdom in all but name. And Count Fredericksen ruled it.
"Do you know the history of El Sion?"
"...A little."
"Hm, then this'll be quick."
Schult cleared his throat and began.
"El Sion wasn't always this prosperous. It started as a mere small city in the County of Dalle Kingdom."
"And that Dalle Kingdom fell. Right?"
"Huh, you must be into history."
A mere swordsman interested in continental history? Knights were quasi-nobles with a baseline of education, but compared to mages who lived with their noses in books, it was a drop in the bucket. Any other knight would have exploded at the implication, but Licht didn't care. There was no malice, and the man was who he was.
Schult continued.
"Anyway... After Dalle fell, Count Fredericksen's great-grandfather desperately sought a way to survive. The shattered kingdom was prime prey for the neighbors."
He toyed with his empty teacup, spinning it in his hands.
"That's when he had the idea: turn this city of El Sion into a holy land of magic. To draw mages from across the continent, he offered every benefit imaginable and scrapped all the regulations. And it worked like a charm."
"The Great Sage Laiyel Luergr."
"Exactly. The legendary archmage said to have come closest to the 9th Circle in continental history. He put down roots here, and this little town exploded overnight. His final legacy was the Sage's Tower. Cherbito's basically a tribute performance to him. El Sion doesn't care about birth if you've got talent."
"For a merit-based place, there sure are a lot of nobles."
Schult chuckled at Licht's retort.
"That's magic for you. But it's not like there are no commoners. A few Cherbito winners have been from the ranks."
Clink.
The sound of the teacup being set down echoed. An odd silence settled over Schult's office for a moment. He laced his fingers together, staring blankly at the table, then suddenly looked up.
"Count Fredericksen attends the Cherbito finals in person, along with his blood kin. People flock from all over the continent. The winner gets one wish—but it's not unlimited. There are lines you can't cross. Still, asking for enough gold and jewels to live off forever, or to become a retainer of the Fredericksen family? Those are fair game."
"What about access to the Sage's Tower top floor? Plenty of mages must have asked for that."
"Of course. More than a few."
"Then..."
"And they all got shot down. The elders from the three great factions put up a huge stink. Bunch of conservative old bastards who guard their rice bowls like hawks. They didn't want some raw talent gem shaking things up."
Licht furrowed his brow. So that was a no-go?
Schult barked a laugh at his expression.
"I can read your mind, kid. Normally, yeah, it'd get rejected."
But.
"If you dominate—overwhelmingly, like nothing in Cherbito history—then it's different. The count respects the three factions, but he's the real lord of El Sion. And he loves shining raw talent. Especially if that gem gleams as bright as the Great Sage... or brighter."
He took a deep breath and exhaled.
"Climbing to the top of the Sage's Tower? Totally doable. I'm certain. In the end, it's all up to the count's whim. What can the elders do, no matter how much they complain?"
"......"
"Count Fredericksen's got more power than the king of a minor nation. His family's 'counts' in name only—they're basically royalty. Oh, one fun fact: that fiery redhead from Brave faction you saw at the gate earlier?"
Licht tilted his head. Her crimson waves and attitude were hard to forget.
Schult added casually,
"She won last year's Cherbito. Temper like a bitch in heat, but her fire magic's just as wild. Gotta give her that much talent. Not as good as my disciple, though."
"......"
"Oh, and the year before? Some rude prick from Vurnek faction. No chance for him this time, right, disciple? Can't compete with a seventeen-year-old 5th Circle genius entering."
Kehahaha!
Schult laughed his ass off. Aila, meanwhile, stared daggers at him with cold eyes.
Familiar sight.
She seemed used to it. Reaching 5th Circle at seventeen—a history-making feat—and Schult brushed it off as "priorities."
No wonder she's pissed.
Licht got it. She sighed deeply and shook her head.
Licht spoke up.
"So when's this Cherbito?"
"Two weeks."
"......?"
"Two weeks left. Finals start first week of May, so you're cutting it close. Participants have to be from a faction based in El Sion. Outsiders normally can't join, but a recommendation from one of the three factions' elders makes it possible."
As if he'd been waiting for this, Schult pulled a paper from the bookshelf and set it on the table.
"One per elder, and I haven't written mine yet. I usually pick some kid from a sponsoring family, but I don't have backers like that. You'll be my first. For my recommendation."
He slid the thin sheet toward Licht with a grin.
"So, you confident? Confident you can crush the other sprouts overwhelmingly?"
***
Licht left Barte's Mage Tower. The mages guarding the gate were still there. They recognized him and bowed slightly, eyes curious about what had gone down inside.
Licht didn't answer. He just nodded back curtly.
They're restless.
The sun was setting. He'd arrived in El Sion late afternoon, but more time had passed than expected.
Licht recalled what had just happened. Despite Schult's protests—"Black's no good. Magic only. Magic-forged weapons are fine, like ice spells"—he'd politely refused and forced his way out.
—"Sorry, disciple, but you'll have to sit this Cherbito out. What can you do? There's always a bigger sky above. Treat it like a freak talent storm and do your best. Keh."
—"Conditions? Nah. This was fun enough after so long. Curious how far you'll go."
Just from watching, Schult had pierced right through Licht's insights. He hadn't even asked if Licht could use magic or to what level. He'd spoken as if Licht's victory was a given.
Aila had given a brief farewell and stayed at the tower. Lots to prepare, she'd said.
Average 3rd Circle. A few direct disciples of elders at 4th.
Age limit: fifteen to twenty-five. Child's play, really. Almost felt guilty.
But above all.
Generosity with no strings attached?
He couldn't read the motive. But Licht soon shook his head inwardly.
...Not the time to overthink.
Licht wandered El Sion's main streets aimlessly. The developed city offered plenty to see: neat boulevards, towering spires, elegant mansions. Streetlamps lined the roads at intervals—mana-fueled magitech unique to El Sion.
His steps halted before a massive library. Peering at the brightly lit interior as dusk fell, he realized this was El Sion's famed Central Library.
The continent's largest collection—El Sion's true treasure trove.
Shall I go in?
Nothing else to do anyway. Check into an inn, unpack? He'd just crash early or swing his sword a few times. Not bad, but tonight, sleep didn't appeal.
Licht entered slowly. The vast library had an open atrium in the center, no floors blocking the view up to the eighth-story ceiling's transparent glass dome—night sky visible inside.
They even made a garden.
Not ordinary from the first-floor lobby. A deep blue tree stood in a small central garden. Mages and scholars zipped along railings on each floor. If they looked down, they'd spot Licht in the middle of the first floor.
Even at night, it bustled more than ever. The librarians at the desk stared blankly into space, not stopping Licht.
Open to all, always.
Now he got it. Not lax security—pure confidence. Not all sections on every floor were open; some restricted. But for Licht, it was more than enough. The sheer volume dwarfed his family's library.
Applications of Circle Magic, the Significance of Common and Unique Spells, Introduction to Magic Studies... This looks good too.
He browsed the first-floor shelves, picking promising books. It felt novel—childhood since he'd done this—and oddly exciting.
Licht grabbed a few that caught his eye from the spines.
No basics. Go for the advanced stuff.
One corner had a reading area. Stacks of books towered beside robed mages scribbling furiously.
Licht, arms full with four volumes, took an empty seat. He wouldn't read them all cover-to-cover. Skim and extract what he needed, and he'd finish by midnight.
That's when it happened.
"You! You're that guy from earlier, right?"
Licht turned at the familiar voice. Wavy crimson hair and a robe filled his view.
"Who's this kid?"
She wasn't alone. Beside Elia stood a boy in mage robes—bright blue, emblazoned with one of the three great factions' crests.
Vurnek.
The boy stared at Licht.
"Black cloak, sword wrapped in white cloth... You're the one, right? The guy who supposedly sliced through Schult Markersy's 5th Circle annihilation spell with a sword."
"......"
"A friend of Aila's? Looks about our age..."
"What're you doing here?"
Elia spat it out bluntly. Licht sensed it instinctively.
4th Circle.
Well-hidden, but it couldn't fool his senses.
Direct disciples of elders. Both of them.
The two young mages stared holes into Licht.