Archmage Merna (Part 1)

"What kind of utter bullshit is this?"

The passage I had painstakingly deciphered from the ancient tome read like garbage lifted straight out of a third-rate fantasy novel. Seriously, did some pretentious, eighth-grade edge-lord write this? Abel had claimed it was nearly impossible to acquire, but had she been ripped off?

I had a rough idea of what 'where mana runs deep' referred to, but unquenchable flames? Ice that never melts?

"Where the hell would something like that even exist?!"

If this was all it amounted to, I would have to comb through another book—

"Hey, defective! Still breathing?"

Kicking the door wide open looking for a fight was my half-brother, Jay Hynek. He possessed the textbook personality of an utterly rotten, incorrigible brat. I didn't usually subscribe to the old adage that spare the rod, spoil the child, but looking at this little bastard, I couldn't help thinking there might be some truth to it after all.

Up until he turned three, he had seemed fine. If anything, he'd had a timid streak, perhaps already mindful of his status as a concubine's son. But somewhere along the way, he had devolved into an insufferable wretch whose obnoxious behavior perfectly matched his homely face. No doubt that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was the result of our so-called father pampering him rotten and treating him like the legitimate heir.

"I was doing just fine—right up until I had to look at your ugly mug."

"What?! How dare you call me that again!"

He was puffing up his chest to pick a fight, but at the end of the day, he wasn't even ten years old. Parrying someone like him was child's play, especially since his quick temper was paired with an utter lack of verbal wit.

"I know you're desperately jealous of your older brother's good looks, but you really don't need to—"

"Why, you mana-less defect—!!"

"Hey! Hold on!"

Jay immediately thrust his arm forward, gathering mana to fire a spell.

Does this punk have anger management issues or what? Why is his boiling point so damn low?!

If this idiot unleashed magic in here, the mountain of ancient tomes and research materials I had gathered would go up in smoke.

"Eat thi—"

"Y-Young Master!!"

"Tch! What is it?!"

"Now is not the time for—"

Smack!

"What? Are you trying to order me around? A mere servant dares get in my way?!"

Wow. Look at that complete lack of decency. Slapping a maid across the face? How on earth did he grow up to become such a monster? Even if he had been doted on and raised as the de facto heir, could a child really turn out this twisted? Perhaps it was genetic. Considering our father was deranged enough to scheme the murder of his own flesh and blood, deep-seated madness clearly ran in the family.

"The... the Archmage is arriving! Wasting your time here will..."

"Tch! Right. I can't afford to waste my precious time and mana on a defect like him."

An Archmage?

Ah—could it be because of that blaze? The one the rumors said refused to go out no matter what they tried? Even so, was that really a situation warranting an Archmage? I'd simply assumed the fire persisted because my father's magic was pathetic. It must be a much bigger crisis than I had anticipated. Well, that forest was important to the territory. It was essentially our regional landmark, famous for its unusual scenery fueled by dense ambient mana.

"I'll let you off easy today, defect. You'd better stay buried in this room like a good little failure."

"Yeah, yeah. You too, with that ug—er, have a nice trip."

Scowling with utter discontent, Jay stormed out of the room. There was no point in needlessly baiting him any further. If that hothead threw a full-blown tantrum, I was the one who stood to lose all my research.

"I'm leaving! Hurry up and follow me, you slowpoke!"

The maid, who had paused to bow respectfully to me, hurried after Jay at his harsh barking. Still, she had saved my skin just now. I hadn't done anything extraordinary myself, but thanks to that little bastard's antics, my standing among the household staff had skyrocketed by comparison. The number of butlers and maids looking upon me with genuine sympathy and goodwill had visibly grown.

That aside, what was I supposed to do about this?

This ancient text had seemed like my most promising lead, but the contents were a complete bust. An unquenchable flame... No matter how I looked at it, it was just juvenile nonse—

Wait. Hold on a second. Didn't they say the fire in the forest couldn't be extinguished? And wasn't that forest known for its unusually thick mana?

"Might actually be worth checking out."

"Welcome, Archmage. I am Jaylon Hynek, Head of the Hynek Family. It is an immense honor to meet you."

Jaylon bent at the waist, offering a bow so excessively deep that one wondered if he had ever lowered his head that far in his entire life.

"Spare me the empty formalities."

The Archmage's response, however, was bone-chillingly dry.

Arrogant bitch.

Jaylon sneered inwardly as his gaze covertly raked over her from head to toe.

She may be insolent, but what a face and body. If only she weren't an Archmage...

Long, glossy black hair swayed gracefully over her shoulders, complementing a striking countenance and alluring silhouette that effortlessly exuded both noble elegance and raw sensuality. She possessed the kind of breathtaking beauty that would make any man unconsciously swallow his breath. Yet even as an aristocrat, Jaylon wouldn't dare dream of making an improper pass at her.

An Archmage was an entity existing far above ordinary nobility.

Even the Four Great Noble Families, the absolute pinnacle of aristocratic authority, could never treat such a being with disrespect. Naturally, a mere high-tier noble like Jaylon had to content himself with pathetic, cowardly fantasies.

"How would you prefer to proceed with the matter, Archmage? Shall we immediately—"

"Drop the title. Just call me Merna."

"Ah... of course! Lady Merna. Would you like to attend to the matter at once, or perhaps take a brief rest first?"

"No ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠need to worry. I already swung by and confirmed the cause on my way here."

Jaylon marveled inwardly at the Archmage's frightening efficiency, though a pang of disappointment flickered through his chest.

"Ah, is that so?"

"Tell me, do you have any children?"

"Pardon? Yes, I do... but may I ask why you inquire?"

"Let me see them."

What a stroke of divine fortune!

Any regret Jaylon had felt over her swift handling of the forest vanished in an instant. From the very beginning, his secret ambition had been to introduce Jay to the Archmage and plead with her to take him as an apprentice. In anticipation of this, he had already stationed Jay at the training grounds. For the Archmage to bring up the subject of her own accord was a windfall beyond his wildest dreams.

Yes! An Archmage will surely recognize Jay's true brilliance!

"With thirty years of rigorous cultivation, he might just reach the threshold of Class 2." That had been the verdict delivered by the private tutors who had instructed Jay.

There is no way his genius stops at that! My son couldn't possibly be so ordinary! He is completely different from that defective failure, Eron!

Unlike Eron, who had been born without a single speck of mana, Jay clearly possessed extraordinary aptitude. Those pathetic tutors were simply too incompetent to perceive his true depth! His suffocating inferiority complex regarding his own mediocre magic had blinded Jaylon's judgment completely.

"Is this brat your son?"

"Yes, indeed. It feels rather boastful coming from my own mouth, but this is my proud son, Jay Hynek."

Having escorted her to the training grounds, Jaylon proudly presented his child to Merna.

"He possesses fine features and exceptional magical talent. Though he is my child, he is truly my pride and joy. Haha."

"He has an idiotic-looking face."

That was Merna's very first impression upon laying eyes on Jay.

What?! Calling me idiotic?!

Struck by the blunt insult, Jay froze on the spot, his jaw slightly open in stunned disbelief.

"You take right after your father—a dull, utterly brainless face."

This... this crazy bitch!

Jay fell into complete disarray. Never once in his life had he been subjected to such treatment. Though born illegitimate, his father had spoiled him to the heavens; not a single soul in this household had ever dared look down on him.

Yet even amidst this humiliation, neither Jay nor Jaylon dared voice a single complaint.

Even Jay, tyrannical and rotten to the core, understood one fundamental truth: no matter how proud the noble House of Hynek might be, they were nothing before an Archmage.

"Well, appearance and magical prowess are entirely different matters. Brat? Cast a spell."

Merna tilted her chin up slightly, commanding him with casual indifference.

Fine, watch closely! Once you see my brilliance, you'll be on your knees begging me to become your disciple!

Swallowing his seething rage, Jay channeled his mana. He was destined to become the patriarch of House Hynek, a prodigy who would eventually ascend to the ranks of the Archmages himself! Jay possessed unwavering faith in that delusion.

"Take this!!"

Magic erupted from his outstretched palms, and a massive pillar of fire shot upward in the center of the training grounds, roaring high enough to scorch the vaulted ceiling.

"Behold! My signature spell!"

"What do you think, Lady Merna? Though he is my son, isn't his talent quite remarkable?"

"If that's your signature spell, does that mean it's the absolute limit of what you can produce?"

"What?!"

Not a single person who had ever witnessed his fire magic had failed to gasp in admiration—save for one single person: that defective failure, Eron. And Jay had always assumed that Eron was simply too devoid of mana to comprehend true greatness. To be met with blatant, yawning apathy from an actual Archmage left Jay completely bewildered.

"Haaah... Does this household have no other children besides this brat?"

"Whatever do you mean by that...?"

"I asked if you have any children besides this wretched brat."

"Why... why do you suddenly ask of other children?"

The moment Eron flashed through Jaylon's mind, he ruthlessly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠expunged the thought.

I am not untalented. It was the instructors who failed me. There is nothing wrong with my magical bloodline!

That was the desperate mantra Jaylon had chanted to himself his entire life. To a man plagued by such deep-seated inadequacy, Eron—born without a sliver of mana—was a living, breathing testament to his own shortcomings.

The fact that Eron was born without mana is not my fault. That wretch cannot possibly carry my noble blood!

His gnawing sense of inferiority had driven him to that level of delusional denial.

"Good grief, talking to you is like conversing with a stone wall. You're as suffocating as your face suggests. You there? Are there any other children living in this mansion?"

The Archmage turned her sharp gaze toward the butler waiting quietly in the background.

"Th-there are no other children, my lady."

The butler deliberately held his tongue regarding Eron. The eldest son possessed no mana and couldn't cast a single spell anyway. An Archmage would never spare him a second glance, and bringing him up would only provoke the master's violent wrath. With that pragmatic calculation, the butler chose silence.

"Even if they aren't his blood, are there no other youths around?"

"One of the maids has a daughter, but... she is not present at the moment."

"Is that so? Then this was a wasted trip. I shall take my leave."

Without a shred of lingering attachment, Merna turned on her heel and strode toward the training ground exit.

"W-Wait! What do you mean by—"

"Ah, don't fret. I'll extinguish the fire in your forest. That was my original objective, after all."

Her voice was flat and detached, not even bothering to glance back over her shoulder.

"Then... what about Jay...?"

"Raise that brat however you like. If he works himself to the bone, he might barely scrape the bottom rung of Class 2. Though more likely than not, he'll hit his ceiling at Class 3."

Merna paused, casting a sidelong glance back at Jay, a sneer curling her lips.

"No... what are you saying...?"

Her assessment was nearly identical to what the previous tutors had said. Yet hearing it pronounced by a living Archmage struck Jaylon with the crushing finality of an executioner's blade.

"B-but Jay clearly possesses immense talent..."

Jaylon mumbled hollowly, as if his very soul had been violently ripped from his chest.

"Pfft! A thoroughly mediocre brat like that? Not a chance in the world."

Jaylon's pathetic murmur brought Merna's departing steps to a halt.

"Mediocre? My son... mediocre?!"

"Indeed. An utterly ordinary brat."

"There is no way my son is ordinary!!"

Collapsing weakly to his knees on the stone floor, Jaylon screamed out in frantic denial, thrashing like a cornered beast.

"My, what a noisy fellow."

"They told me my son mastered magic faster than any of his peers! He cannot possibly be ordinary!"

The agonizing inferiority complex regarding his own magical mediocrity, coupled with the soul-crushing revelation that his prized son was talentless—these two shocks collided, violently snapping the final threads of Jaylon's sanity.

"Sure, perhaps he has an ounce of knack. But from where I stand, a one and a five are practically the same thing. An untalented hack like you and a brat with a fingernail's worth of talent—it's like comparing the heights of acorns."

"A-Acorns...? My son and I...?"

What is this woman babbling about?! That cannot be! This is complete and utter madness!!

Jaylon frantically rejected the reality crashing down upon him.

Leaving the pathetic, slumped figure behind, Merna prepared to take another step forward.

"Dieeee!!!"

Jay, who had been trembling in stony silence with his head bowed, suddenly unleashed his magic straight at the Archmage's back.

In terms of sheer power, the disparity between them was far vaster than that between a dinosaur and an ant. Even accounting for his spoiled upbringing and vile temper, Jay's suicidal frenzy defied all rational comprehension. The watching butler was instantly paralyzed by sheer, suffocating terror.

In that horrific moment, the only thing the butler had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠left was prayer.

He prayed with every fiber of his being that the Archmage named Merna possessed a merciful heart.