The Ghost Archmage's Disciple
I didn’t need to be all that terrified just because it was a ghost. In this world, the existence of ghosts was officially acknowledged, and plenty of information about them was readily available. From a book I’d read before, most ghosts couldn’t physically interfere with the living world. Only the extremely powerful ones could manage it, and even then, they couldn’t maintain the interference for long. So the standard procedure was simple: ignore whatever nonsense the ghost was muttering, call the church, and have it exorcised.
“Let’s bolt.”
I grabbed Cani’s hand and stood up.
“Huh…? Hey, where are you going?”
The ghost sounded flustered, clearly not expecting to be ignored so completely.
“Treasure! I know where the treasure is! Just listen to me for a second!”
When I kept ignoring it, the ghost desperately switched to persuasion. Did it think I was an idiot? I opened the door without giving its words a second thought.
“Ha, these punks won’t listen unless I get rough?”
Bang!
“…”
The ghost irritably waved its hand, and the door slammed shut on its own. I rattled the doorknob just to be sure, but it didn’t budge, exactly as I feared.
I swallowed hard.
A ghost that could exert physical force. This was no small fry. Without an archbishop-level priest, exorcism was impossible. For someone like me right now, it was an opponent I couldn’t defeat even if I died and came back to life twice.
I plastered on an awkward smile and rubbed my hands together obsequiously.
“Haha… esteemed Ghost? Is there something you desire from me?”
There are moments in life when you have to give up quickly. For me, that moment had clearly arrived. I abandoned my plan to flee and switched to negotiation.
“Ghost sir? I happen to have quite a lot of money. How does that sound?”
“You fool, why would a ghost need money?”
“Then what exactly do you want…”
The ghost teleported around, inspecting every inch of my body.
“You. You’re a mage, aren’t you?”
“I’m just a beginner who can only use first-circle magic, but yes, I am a mage.”
“Hmm…”
The ghost stroked his beard, sinking deep into thought.
What on earth is he planning to demand? Having him scrutinize my body like that felt incredibly ominous. If he asked for my body itself, I’d have to scream immediately.
“You. Become my disciple.”
“Excuse me?”
The ghost who called himself the 27th head of House Fredrick claimed he was an 8-circle mage.
“There’s no record of that in any history book.”
“Of course there isn’t. Who would leave behind the records of a ducal house that was wiped out?”
I eyed the ghost with deep suspicion. The fact that he could exert physical force suggested he really had been powerful in life, but the 8-circle claim was simply too outrageous to swallow.
“Only seven people in history have ever reached 8-circle.”
“Ahem. I am one of those great mages who attained that exalted realm.”
If he had modestly claimed 6-circle, I might have believed him. Instead, he was spouting nonsense that even an elementary division academy student would scoff at.
“Then why would such a great 8-circle archmage want someone like me as his disciple?”
The ghost scratched the back of his head, looking somewhat embarrassed.
“I simply don’t want my magic to end with me.”
It was perfectly natural for a mage to wish for their research and spells to continue beyond their death. After all, their life’s journey was poured into that magic. The more accomplished the high-circle mage, the stronger their desire to take on disciples and pass everything down. That fact was already well-known.
“You were an 8-circle archmage, yet you had no disciples?”
“Everyone who got involved with me died.”
“…”
When he said they all died, I had nothing to say.
“Let’s assume it’s true that you really were an 8-circle archmage and that all your disciples died.”
“It’s not an assumption. It is the truth.”
“Yes, yes, whatever. Anyway, let’s say I learn your magic. If someone recognizes it when I use it, won’t I end up dead just like your previous disciples?”
The ghost shook his head.
“It’s already magic from five hundred years ago. No one knows my spells anymore. There is zero chance of discovery.”
“…”
After five hundred years, that was probably true. Still, if that much time had passed, most ghosts would have given up and moved on. His determination to pass on his magic was truly something else.
“I’m really not asking for any compensation. You simply need to learn my magic. It’s not a bad deal for you at all, is it?”
“Hmm…”
When I didn’t immediately agree, the ghost’s voice rose with frustration.
If I keep resisting, this could get dangerous.
I had pushed back quite a bit, but I hadn’t forgotten that I was in an overwhelmingly weaker position. Some compromise was possible, but outright refusal was impossible under the current circumstances.
Besides, I wasn’t alone. I also had to protect Cani, who had fainted the moment the ghost appeared.
“All right. I’ll become your disciple.”
“Oh! A wise choice indeed!”
The ghost grinned so widely it looked like his mouth might split. He flickered and teleported around before thrusting several books toward me.
Basics of Incantation Magic — Anthony Fredrick
The Power of Words — Anthony Fredrick
Practical Applications of Incantation — Anthony Fredrick
The books the ghost offered had yellowed with age, and they carried a musty odor. When my face crumpled at the sight of the decrepit volumes, the ghost bounced around in protest.
“I took great care of them! That’s why they’re only this bad! Do you have any idea how terrifying the weight of five hundred years can be?”
“Well, considering five centuries, I suppose they’re actually in decent condition.”
“Hahaha, right? These are books I protected with utmost devotion!”
“But hold on.”
“Yes?”
“You were subjected to record erasure, weren’t you?”
“Indeed.”
“Then aren’t these books also forbidden?”
“…Aren’t they?”
Under imperial law, merely possessing banned books was enough to have three generations of your family exterminated.
“Fireball.”
I summoned a sphere of flame without hesitation. They seemed like valuable books, but I had no intention of letting three generations get wiped out.
“Wait!”
The ghost hurled his entire body over the books to shield them. He should have known that a spirit form couldn’t possibly block a fireball.
“Hoist.”
I pretended to throw the fireball again and again, waiting for the ghost to lower his guard. As I continued to feint, he grew increasingly complacent. I didn’t miss the opening and launched the real thing.
The ghost, clearly not expecting an actual attack, panicked and began casting in a hurry.
“Camellia’s Veil.”
Camellia trees burst from the floor in an instant, wrapping around the mage. With a thunderous boom, the fireball collided with them.
Camellias had been known since ancient times as trees resistant to fire. True to their nature, the fireball couldn’t pierce through. I stood there stunned by the trees that had suddenly sprouted from the ground. I had seen magic of various attributes—water, fire, ice, lightning, light—but never anything that summoned trees.
The mage, who hadn’t broken a sweat, dramatically wiped his forehead and squared his shoulders. Because he had overexerted himself in spirit form, his body flickered and distorted.
“Creating your own school of magic is only possible once you reach the realm of archmage. Well? In all your years, have you ever seen magic that utilizes flowers and trees?”
“No, never…”
“How about it? Do you now believe that I am a true archmage?”
I had already irritated him multiple times. To soothe his mood, I dropped into an exaggerated bow.
“This junior mage failed to recognize the greatness before him. I apologize!”
“Ahem.”
“Seeing the trees you summoned has allowed even this ignorant novice to understand the archmage’s greatness. Please, bestow your teachings upon me!”
“Haha, yes, my disciple. You’ve finally opened your eyes.”
Even with all this chaos going on, Cani was still sleeping peacefully. I was honestly relieved she remained unconscious.
Top floor of the Imperial Academy Knight Division’s female dormitory.
The Northern Archduke’s only beloved daughter. The next-generation Sword Master. One of the empire’s three great beauties. The platinum-blonde girl who carried every possible compliment and title—Mariene—sat shaking her leg, anxiously biting her nails.
The maids sensed their lady’s foul mood and did everything possible to erase their presence.
“Why! Won’t! He! Come! Find! Me!”
In a fit of frustration, Mariene crushed the macaron in her hand.
She had always kept tentacles extended toward Hendel’s every movement. She already knew he had arrived in the capital. Naturally, she had assumed he would come straight to her first and had even dressed up beautifully in anticipation.
Yet according to the reports, five hours after entering his residence, Hendel still hadn’t made a single move.
This won’t do. I’ll have to go to him myself.
Her original plan had been to gracefully and maturely welcome Hendel when he came to her, showcasing her refined charm. But she couldn’t wait any longer. Meeting him once every six months had been her source of motivation to keep living. Because of the academy, she hadn’t seen him for an entire year and was already suffering from withdrawal.
Waiting five hours had been an extraordinary display of patience on her part.
The female dormitory’s curfew was ten o’clock. It was already a little past eight. If she went to Hendel now, she would almost certainly miss curfew. Still, the dormitory supervisor would never dare reprimand the young lady of the Deripozier family.
They might lock her out after curfew, but that would only give her a perfect excuse to stay at Hendel’s residence instead. Actually, that would be even better.
Good. Let’s go.
Mariene stood up with energetic determination.
“I’m heading to Hendel’s residence, so don’t come looking for me.”
“Yes… understood.”
The maids were technically responsible for preventing Mariene’s misbehavior, but they had seen what happened when she got truly angry. They could only bow their heads and watch her leave.
As they stared at her retreating figure, the maids could only pray that she would return before curfew.