Chapter 51
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 51
Chapter Title: Court Mage Appointment
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Ian took a full week off, generously speaking, after completing Crown Prince Astheon's mission. When he finally reported back to work after so long, he could feel his colleagues greeting him with unusual enthusiasm.
In truth, Ian got along well enough with everyone, but today's reaction was so over the top that it left him puzzled.
"What's going on with you all?"
"What do you mean? Don't play dumb!"
"Congratulations! You've really hit the jackpot in life!"
"See? You never know what life's gonna throw at you. Who could've guessed someone from our division would climb this high!"
Ian stood there dumbfounded amid the barrage of cryptic exclamations until his junior magic investigator, Lena, stepped in to clear up his confusion.
"Congratulations! You're entering the palace, right?"
"Huh? Entering the palace? Me?"
"Yes. How does it feel? It must be amazing... Oh! Of course, Sir Ian, you probably don't even care! You're such a great figure... Eek! N-No, I mean! Slip of the tongue! Just a slip!"
He didn't even notice Lena fumbling over her own words. The phrase "entering the palace" had lodged itself firmly in his mind.
'Entering the palace? What kind of nonsense is this?'
In the parlance unique to imperial mages, "entering the palace" was code for becoming a court mage.
Which meant he was being appointed as one.
This wasn't some backwater nation on the continent's edge or a middling power. It was the one and only empire on the Terradium continent calling itself an empire—and he was to become its court mage.
How could he not be stunned?
Alongside the Mage Tower, the imperial court mage position was one of the two pinnacle achievements for any mage. Him, landing one of those? Of course it was absurd.
"Who said that?"
"Pardon?"
"Who said I'm entering the palace?"
"W-Well, people?"
"Which people?"
"Just... everyone around?"
"Who exactly? Obviously, His Highness the Crown Prince."
The final voice belonged to Bren, who burst into the office as the door flew open. The officials greeted him, and Bren returned the nods before approaching Ian and clapping him on the shoulder.
"Congratulations. Not only did you escape this endless cesspool that no one can flee, you even stepped onto the path to glory. What's your take on it?"
"My take? Can't you see my face right now?"
"Your face? Looks like you're over the moon."
"Over the moon, my ass."
Ian grumbled. Over the moon? Yeah, right. He was flabbergasted half to death.
Of course, he'd expected some change in his position. He'd accepted the crown prince's offer to be his right-hand man—what else could happen?
But this? This dramatic? He hadn't seen that coming at all.
Ah, but he wasn't unhappy. Far from it. Who hated promotions?
He was just... dazed.
'No way this is lightning promotion territory?'
But Ian soon shrugged it off. What did it matter? The water was spilled.
They say if you can't avoid it, enjoy it. And this wasn't some sudden storm—it was a situation he'd chosen himself.
"Well, yeah. I'm thrilled. Absolutely dying of joy here. Haha."
Screw it. Might as well enjoy the ride.
Who was he?
The empire's court mage (soon-to-be).
The crown prince's right-hand man.
"Heh heh, if you're happy, I feel proud too."
"But, Deputy Director, how on earth did you connect with His Highness?"
"No idea what you're talking about. Connections? I don't have any."
"Come on, don't play coy. I know everything. You put in a good word for me with him, didn't you? Otherwise, why would work-life balance come up in His Highness's mouth?"
"Ahem, my stomach's suddenly acting up. I'll hit the restroom."
Bren abruptly left the office. Watching his retreating figure, Ian shook his head.
'You're being way too obvious, aren't you?'
Ian instantly saw through Bren's deliberate fib. He knew the man wasn't usually so transparently obvious.
That sly fox making such an blatant lie? It was like the sun rising in the west.
He'd probably fudged it just enough for Ian alone to catch on, with the subordinates watching. Yeah, you're right.
'Hope it doesn't get too busy. I've got enough on my plate.'
He hadn't made much alchemy progress lately. With all the time spent checking on his creations, who could blame him?
Lara, whose fairy subordinates now numbered over four thousand.
Arkbone, who after annihilating the 'Ashen Butchers' ruling the Gray Forest, had reformed a skeleton cavalry and crushed two more factions in mere days.
And Ddol Ddoli, who'd splendidly awakened primal magic as a racial trait.
Ddol Ddoli even had a subordinate now.
Peble Guardian?
Something like that.
Pretty cute little thing.
It looked just like Ddol Ddoli, but only about fifty centimeters tall—petite and compact.
Though its insides were probably packed solid with rock.
Since it resembled Ddol Ddoli, it had to be pretty strong, right?
With those guys growing at such a rapid pace, he just couldn't find time for alchemy.
But now it was time to shift focus back to his own work.
'Alchemy level-up's right around the corner.'
A thousand more EXP and it'd hit level 13.
He'd break out of 'Skilled' and enter a new stage.
That should unlock a new upgrade project for Ddol Ddoli.
Maybe even research using the dragon heart and world tree branch?
'Gotta unlock that hidden specialization line too... How to go about it?'
Hidden specialization line. Ian hadn't forgotten.
One clue: Achievement 'Potential of Life Enhancement'.
'Probably ties to life enhancement. Means I need alchemy research on that.'
Clue in hand, he had a path.
Just no time.
He felt a twinge of impatience, but pushed it down.
'No rush. It's not urgent.'
Goals in sight made him antsy.
But really, no need to hurry.
It wasn't life-or-death. Just for fun.
So take it slow. Slow and steady.
Ian soon learned the rumors of his palace entry weren't baseless. Astheon came personally to confirm it.
"Y-Your Highness. I appreciate the favor, but isn't this too extreme?"
"Why? What? You hate it?"
"No, not that. But the stares won't be kind. And the backlash... it'll be fierce, right?"
He'd already overheard a few remarks.
After his long absence, backtalk buzzed openly everywhere.
If it was this bad already, palace entry would make it obvious.
"Stares? Backlash? Who cares about that crap. Did they find my sword? No."
"W-Well, true."
"Plenty said they'd help, but none actually did. All talk, no substance. But you? You've got the skills. You delivered. Right?"
"Yeah, I suppose."
He really treasures Labris. Mentioning it like that.
"You care too much about what people think?"
"No, not really."
'I've got thick skin. This is about you, Your Highness.'
Already called spoiled and tyrannical, now protecting a commoner mage? More fuel for the fire.
Getting hated breaks people. Even this iron-willed crown prince's mental couldn't take it. He was a reliable backer... er, ally for the future.
"Then we're good. They badmouth you? Ignore 'em. Worry about stares, you get nothing done. Got it?"
"Yes."
"If they go too far, I'll handle it. Insulting my right-hand man? Not on my watch. I'll just grab some corn and—!"
As curses nearly spilled from the noble mouth, his guard intervened.
Astheon grumbled a bit before changing subjects.
"Studying the spellbook I gave you?"
"Pardon? Ah, yes. Studying diligently, thanks to you."
'Already mastered it.'
But he couldn't say that.
"Good. Keep at it. Gotta be my right hand. Kahaha!"
Astheon bellowed with laughter.
'Stressing 'right hand' a bit much?'
The thought crossed his mind, but whatever. They were in it together now.
Emphasize it or not, didn't matter.
Heck, he'd hitched his wagon perfectly. Big win.
"Anyway, let's do great things. Oh, ceremony's tomorrow morning. You heard?"
"Yes."
"Nail it. Wear the uniform properly. Robe too. I vouched for you. Make me look good. Got it?"
"Of course. Don't worry."
Ian nodded confidently.
Academy days, he aced etiquette.
The court mage appointment resembled a knighting ceremony.
Mage kneels on one knee in salute; emperor mumbles a lengthy decree meaning "You're now a court mage." Simple.
Heading into his fifth year as a bureaucrat, Ian knew the drill. No big deal.
But nope.
'Why are there so many people?'
Ian glanced sideways. The audience chamber was packed.
What the hell?
'More than when I got the Imperial Holy Light Medal...'
Even that wasn't this crowded.
What gives?
"Hey, right hand!"
The voice belonged to Crown Prince Astheon.
He approached Ian, waiting by the entrance.
"I did good, right?"
"Pardon?"
Now straight-up calling him right hand.
"What do you mean?"
"I rounded up every last one. Said non-attendance means death. Look at 'em all show up. Heh."
"Y-Yes?"
'What?'
Had he misheard?
"Gave it my all to hype you up. So chin up. Relax. Got it?"
Astheon brushed dust off Ian's shoulder.
Nobles' faces soured at the sight.
Visibly displeased.
Astheon grinned carefree, but the recipient felt different.
'Your Highness, you're making me more nervous.'
Guaranteed.
This vibe? Even the unflappable would tense.
"His Imperial Majesty the Emperor enters!"
The booming call straightened everyone. Ian assumed the briefed posture; Astheon took his seat.
Emperor seated on the throne. Ceremony began.
Per protocol, Ian advanced to center, knelt in vassal's rite. The herald read the appointment decree naming him court mage.
"Hear ye, all! By the sacred will of His Imperial Majesty, I proclaim to every soul! At this hour, Senior Magic Investigator of the Imperial Magic Bureau's Magic Management Division, Holy Light Knight Ian, shall stand before His Majesty's throne as the empire's court mage, serving the imperial house. With his astonishing talents, he elevated the Magic Management Division's renown, and beyond that, was the first to uncover the wicked horde threatening the empire's peace..."
Like a principal's endless speech, it droned on interminably, nearly coaxing a yawn.
'No. Hold it together, Ian. Yawn here, life's over.'
Head bowed, Ian squeezed his eyes shut, then open. Repeat. Yawn subsided.
'Whew. Close call...'
-Lord Ian.
'Huh?'
Ian jolted inwardly.
'What?'
But kept composed, eyes scanning discreetly.
Naturally, no one spoke.
Who would in this setting?
-Raise your head slightly and look at Us.
'Us?'
He lifted his head—just a fraction.
Met the emperor's eyes.
'Gah.'
Startled, but held gaze. Emperor's voice continued.
-Quick on the uptake. Yes, We called you.
'The emperor's using message magic?'
A mage?
More like, why whisper secretly now?
-Stay calm. No signs. Listen quietly. We have a proposal for you.
'A proposal?'
Suddenly?
-Aid Us.
"......"
-Can you? Blink once for yes, twice for no.
-Y-Your Majesty. Forgive me, but may I ask what this is about?
Ian replied via message magic. Emperor's brow twitched—not anger, surprise.
-You know how to respond too.
-Merely matching Your Majesty's method.
-A young mage in his twenties wielding message magic so subtly it evades the audience chamber's mana detection. No wonder the crown prince praised you endlessly.
'Pardon? Your son praised me?'
News to him.
-Since we can converse, this speeds things. Aid Us.
-I don't know why Your Majesty offers this covert proposal to an unworthy soul like me, but I'm no great talent. Pretend this talk never happened—please retract the order.
-No great talent...? The Holy Light Knight who earned countless merits and the Imperial Holy Light Medal claims that? Who else is great?
-Mere coincidence...
-Moreover, the benefactor who returned the imperial sword Labris—lost to all others—back to the fold. Still claim no ability?
Ian faltered.
How'd he know?
Astheon told him?
He'd said only his closest knew.
But the emperor? He'd know everything. Not knowing would be weirder.
-And you are a saint besides.
'Pardon?'
-The saint of Baldergran. We've had eyes on you for some time.
Ian nearly yelped aloud.
'Whoa. Haven't heard that in forever.'
Saint of Baldergran.
Someone called him that once.
But the emperor knew? Some provincial deed by a commoner?
-No feigning ignorance. We long knew you as the saint who slays evil.
Pardon?
What?
-Y-Your Majesty, seems there's a misunderstanding...
-Tch. Hush.
'What kinda bullshit is this?'
Who said that? Anyone?
'I can't use divine power worth a damn.'
Baldergran healing?
Healing potions, not divine power.
-You know well: Children blessed by gods are all swept into the Church's embrace.
Ian nodded. True enough.
Saints, saintesses—even high-faith talents—Holy Kingdom took them all. Even foreigners.
-Yet We despise the Holy Kingdom. Losing a loyal servant who toils for the empire—a Holy Light Knight no less—to them? Unbearable.
-......
-And here that servant stands before Us.
Ian's face turned fully incredulous.
This guy's misconception ran deep.
-Lord Ian. Use your sanctity not for the Church, but for Us—for the empire.
-Y-Your Majesty, I'm no saint...
-Tch. No excuses. Do you doubt Our eyes and ears reach the empire's ends?
'Sorry, seems they don't.'
-If your sanctity can purge the evil horde infiltrating the empire's heart, We shall gladly keep you at Our side.
-No, wait, I—
-Conveniently, the crown prince shields you. Admirable. He takes after Us—good eye.
Ian paused mid-explanation of not being a saint.
'Wait. Evil horde?'
Infiltrating the heart?
-Surely you grasp it now.
Herald finished; room hushed.
Only emperor's voice echoed in Ian's mind.
-By Our command: Holy Light Knight Lord Ian, become Our secret blade. Root out utterly the evil infiltrating the empire.