Mage Tower (2)

Just level 300. A paltry level that, in the normal course of things, wouldn't even allow me near the Mage Tower, let alone as an apprentice mage.

But those worries proved unfounded. I effortlessly evaluated the mages' research results.

It wasn't all that strange, really. Not when you considered Grandfell's talents.

I didn't even need examples.

Just think back to what happened at the regular conference...

You have to pass verification to present at the regular conference. Which means every study announced there has already cleared that high bar of verification.

And I'd casually replicated the advanced magic presented there by the chief mage, Marcelo.

Yes. For someone with such talent, the research of these skilled mages? It was hard to view it favorably.

And besides...

"Such confidence."

"...Pardon? What do you mean by that?"

"You intended to present this drivel at the conference?"

"...Yes?!"

With this prickly personality of mine. Beating around the bush was out of the question.

Of course, every action demanded proper decorum and pride. If it had merely been subpar, I might have gently admonished them.

But...

"The first chapter. Chapters twenty through thirty. You've slyly altered mere passages lifted straight from books, changing only the words. Do you truly believe this paper contains any of your original research? Skilled mage Cyril Yube?"

The problem was that it was all too obvious to my eyes...!

Even a temple dog learns to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠recite poetry after three years.

Staying up late, rising early, devouring every magic tome in sight. And that wasn't enough—I'd scribble down the manifestation processes with my quill pen like flashcards, reviewing them endlessly.

So they should've known better.

Even I thought this was a bit much.

Grandfell's lofty pride could never tolerate it. So kind words were out of the question.

"Rejected."

"It should be scrapped."

"You couldn't even copy it properly."

But spewing venom and sending them packing wasn't befitting a chief.

Scratch-scratch—

I slashed my quill across the research paper.

"...?"

"You should start by fixing the errors in the exploration process. The interference method is needlessly tangled and inefficient. If it's a mistake, correct it. If it's a habit, break it."

"...!"

Of course, whether my so-called advice would actually help was anyone's guess.

Breaking habits is easier said than done.

But accepting it was entirely up to them.

"Th-thank you!"

Yes. That made twenty mages and studies I'd sent packing like that.

I flinched inwardly.

...Am I going to reject them all?

But fortunately, this next one was solid.

"Cley Odia."

"Ah. Y-yes, sir!"

"You've chosen a challenging field of study."

Healing school skilled mage, Cley Odia.

I read through the paper she'd submitted.

Twenty schools in the Mage Tower. Countless branches beneath them.

This was one of the more niche fields.

Cley looked slightly surprised as she replied.

"...Thank you for saying so!"

In Arcana, 'medicinal herbs' referred to plants used as ingredients for elixirs. Things that restored vitality or regenerated mana, like potions.

Naturally, it seemed far removed from her specialty in healing studies.

Healing magic could restore a target's vitality and mana using only the caster's own mana.

Yet...

"Quite an intriguing approach."

The research focused entirely on the 'cultivation methods' for medicinal herbs. In other words, on cultivating them.

Evidently unfamiliar territory. Cley seemed prepared with additional explanations.

But because I'd called it intriguing...

"D-did you just say... intriguing...?"

She was visibly flustered. Clearly, she'd expected me to not understand the research at all.

I agreed with her on that front.

Good thing I chatted with him.

Shadow Mercenary. Seventh seat, Alkari.

I'd spoken with that old man who chugged potions like water. About magic, potions, and the medicinal herbs that served as their ingredients.

Just in case it might come in handy someday. Our hours-long chat had been mere days ago.

"The logic and process seem sound—no leaps, no errors. All that's left is the results."

Thanks to that, I could bluster convincingly.

I slashed my quill across the page.

"I'll be watching at the regular conference."

Yes. This research intrigued even me.

Low level.

Resulting in low-quality mana.

To supplement my pathetic mana, it was gear or potion buffs.

But finding gear that met Grandfell's aesthetic standards and had excellent effects? No easy task.

No matter how much money I had, item supply was limited.

But if I could cultivate medicinal herbs for elixir production...

I could mass-produce rare potions.

An irresistible possibility.

So I added one more line for Cley.

"Pursue your research with confidence."

"...!!"

Cley's eyes widened, then returned to normal.

"I'll do my best, sir!"

Good. First pass.

After that, the rejection parade resumed.

"Regrettably. It makes my eyes rot."

In the end, only one study passed my verification...!

Had I rejected too many? I wondered if it might cause issues.

But as I'd resolved.

If I was going to go mad.

I'd become a madman no one could touch.

So I thought shamelessly.

It's their fault for assigning me.

If they didn't like my handling, they shouldn't assign me next time...

*

Topaz Hall.

"...What?"

The senior mages, returning to their labs after verification, were stunned.

Studies they'd been confident in. Rejected.

What in the world?

"Did you mess up?"

"...No. I didn't get a word in."

"What? Couldn't answer the questions?"

"No. I didn't even get any questions."

"...Huh?"

What nonsense was this?

When they incredulously asked for details, the name that emerged was, naturally, Lee Hoyeol. The joint chief researcher.

"That upstart dares?"

The first time they'd heard that name.

It had made their blood boil. An adventurer, on equal footing with the chief mage?

No matter Hoyeol's talents, it bruised their pride.

But this crossed the line.

"My vetted research, no less...!"

The regular conference was a matter of school honor.

So they held internal meetings at the school level before Topaz Hall verification.

Doesn't that violate regulations? Some seniors just scoffed.

Everyone does it—why pretend otherwise?

So they couldn't comprehend.

"We must formally raise this with the higher-ups."

In that ominous atmosphere.

"Hmm..."

Healing school senior mage Bellie Yusia stood apart.

Cley's research had passed with flying colors.

Under the ever-controversial Hoyeol's judgment.

Cley had come to her in tears.

"Lady Bellie...!!"

At first, she'd assumed bad news. Cley's research was an unfamiliar field, after all.

The judge might not grasp its value.

So she'd meant to console her.

Turn failure into fertilizer for the next conference.

But...

"I passed!"

Cley's research had passed.

"Sir Lee Hoyeol, the joint chief researcher...!!"

By joint chief researcher Lee Hoyeol, no less.

Bellie listened intently to Cley's tale.

Cley wasn't one ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠for tall tales.

Still, Bellie could hardly believe her ears.

According to Cley...

...He has knowledge of healing studies, pharmacology, and manufacturing.

Extensive knowledge, at that.

Which was why Bellie couldn't simply rejoice.

"I voted yes to observe him closely."

And he'd already made such a splash.

Bellie chuckled softly.

"But it won't be easy, they say?"

Bellie knew the seniors' darker side well.

Their warped obsession with magic.

Most evident at the regular conference.

Hoyeol had thoroughly irked them.

The other seniors wouldn't stay quiet.

"The Mage Tower will be in an uproar starting tomorrow."

Bellie stroked her green curls.

...Come what may.

He'd recognized Cley's true worth.

Bellie smiled faintly.

"Don't feel too slighted, though. I have no intention of joining them. Not this time, nor in the future."

.

.

.

But contrary to Bellie's expectations, the Mage Tower remained quiet.

The reason was simple.

"...Plagiarism?"

"I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠have no excuse..."

"Are you sure? He definitely caught it?"

The key wasn't the plagiarism.

It was whether Hoyeol had pinpointed it exactly.

Results mattered more than process.

But the responses were shocking.

"I-I couldn't deny it! Which book, which page, which section—even the exact paragraph! Joint chief researcher Lee Hoyeol had memorized every book!"

Such a thing was possible?

Where did monsters like that even exist?

Wasn't that beyond even Marcelo?

"Are you sure you didn't misunderstand?"

"Absolutely not. Those eyes... they were...!"

"No, think again. Leading questions or..."

"I told you! He didn't say a word. I confessed everything myself. Keep pushing, and I'll quit the senior process altogether...!"

"Now, now. Calm down first."

The seniors preparing complaints went blank.

Upon hearing the details...

Complaining would only lose face.

"...Let's pretend this never happened."

So they tucked tail.

And in Topaz Hall.

The rejection parade continued.

After Hoyeol's arrival.

A new wind blew through the Mage Tower.

"Sob..."

...accompanied by a tear-storm.

*

Sure enough, my resolution held true.

I'd become a madman no one dared touch!

Thanks to faithfully executing that resolve, I completed my chief duties without major incident.

I checked my quest window.

...The problem was that it was a repeating quest.

But this much effort? Nothing compared to the gains from the Mage Tower so far.

Besides, I always came out ahead in give-and-take.

Have to work harder than what I receive? Just extract equivalent value from the Mage Tower again.

As chief, how much could I legally 'enjoy'... no, claim?

Mana artifact rentals, for starters.

Even item appraisal services that cost other players a fortune.

Rights befitting a chief.

For that, shouting rejections was a small price.

Resolve aside for now. I levitated my teacup with telekinesis.

Clink—

Tilting the cup, I spoke.

"Time marches on, unstoppable even by magic."

Stripping away the bravado: it was already Thursday.

The new update details had surfaced.

"...Hm."

Float—

With telekinesis mastered, my decorum was perfected.

No need to bow my head to check my smartphone.

No need to set down my teacup.

Telekinesis was this convenient.

Idle thoughts aside, I spoke.

"Nothing noteworthy."

No major updates like Yusra Kingdom or Frost.

Just news of new ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rifts.

Though the recommended level seemed high.

Over 400. Now, even that's...

Of course, irrelevant to me.

No demons.

Didn't offend my pride.

And I wasn't scraping by for living expenses like before.

That thought didn't last.

Suddenly, the quest window blinked.

And with it, knock knock—

...As expected. No point hoping for calm in my fate.

I cast aside lingering regrets and replied.

"Care for some tea? Marcelo, chief mage."