Though I had thought it was delayed, the interesting find truly provided us with some delightful events. Sent out on a whim, without even being designated as a “familiar,” and without the gift of a far-seeing amulet, who would have thought it would get caught up in a situation that happens only once every ten years? Even so, if it returns in early winter after being sent out in autumn, bringing back a satisfactory smile-worthy souvenir, then all is well.
Baroness Agrippina du Stal was moved as she watched her exhausted servant and smiled.
“This isn’t something to laugh about.”
“On the contrary, what am I supposed to do if I don’t laugh?”
Though she covered her mouth as befits a young lady of nobility, her grin stretching to the corners of her mouth oozed with cunning and couldn’t be easily concealed. The sheer evilness that made onlookers hallucinate she was enveloped in a pitch-black aura, despite not dispersing any magical energy, was nothing short of impressive.
Reclining on a couch, her lordship had her crying sister clinging around her neck while sitting in a chair. To those unaware of the circumstances, this scene would undoubtedly cause confusion. Despite this, the servant, who had returned to the imperial capital from the northern lands following a chase by the early snows after recovering from illness, let out a deep, weary sigh.
Let’s set aside the sister for a moment. The girl, who was originally inseparable from her brother, had been apart for over a month—and though she had healed from her severe injuries upon return—it was only natural for her current clinging behavior to indicate some growth.
The real issue lay with the heretic whose sanity had fermented and was now dripping with mischief. Lady Agrippina, lounging comfortably on the couch in her relaxed nightwear even in the middle of the day, was happily mulling over both the letter from the noble and the report given to her verbally. With glee, she erupted into giggles at various points of the narrative, resembling someone watching a comedy play.
Truly admirable how composed she could appear in front of the person who had suffered grievously.
To begin with, her race, much like herself, were hedonists. To prevent ennui during their interminable lives, they sought or created joy daily, constantly spinning malicious thoughts. The long-lived species who, for the sake of fleeting pleasures, caused worldwide inconvenience and whose names remain in history books, were nothing but seasoned hedonists.
Thus, she found satisfaction in this event. It was indeed true that idling from boredom, she had sent the boy out with half the expectation that “this kid will surely do something.” Though she would be lying if she said she wasn’t interested in the knowledge of the forgotten gods banished by the deities, it was only half her motivation.
But what emerged turned out to be a magnificent revelation. The servant had successfully procured the desired item from the cantankerous copyist and even brought back some grand tales. Lord Faige might have asked for these misfortunes to be spun into a story, but if Lady Agrippina had heard them, she would have made the same request—she was, after all, a voracious lover of tales.
“Ah, I’ve laughed so much… my throat’s parched. Please prepare a cup of tea. The usual.”
“…Understood.”
Erich crushed the bitter insects stuffed in his mouth, swallowed along with all the things he wanted to say, and rose. Regardless of voicing any of it, it would all just be converted into laughter anyway.
In this situation, it was better to just quietly attend to the chores. Adjusting the grip on the sister whose feet dragged along the ground, he made his way to the kitchen with a melancholy aura that belied his young appearance.
“Hmm…”
After sipping her favorite medicinal broth and moistening her throat, Agrippina brandished one of the given letters. It was a certificate transferring ownership of “The Lost God Rituals Manuscript” to Erich. Taking this to the merchants’ guild would guarantee the delivery of the well-guarded item.
However, there was one issue. This book was originally procured on Agrippina’s orders for Erich’s role as her servant. While Agrippina hadn’t footed any costs beyond travel expenses, it was reasonable to expect him to deliver it to her as instructed.
“A rather stingy master might seize the book here, saying it was the mission assigned from the start, but I won’t be the kind to wrench away items diligently procured by my servant for a meager price.”
Declaring this utterly normal statement while embodying pure evil, Agrippina waved the certificate. It wasn’t about showing great magnanimity.
Purely out of a desire to find amusement, she was indulging in the hedonistic tendencies common among the practitioners of dawn magic, twisting the situation to her liking.
“So, regarding this, I have three proposals for reward.”
She raised three fingers, and three lights floated airborne. Manipulating magical flows, she spun them into glowing text.
“The first is to cover Eliza’s tuition and living expenses for three years… roughly the equivalent of 75 drachmas.”
The hand that had paused on Eliza’s crying head resumed its motion. Clearly, she noted the easily discernible reaction, which caused another smirk to cross Agrippina’s face. No matter how prepared, the common citizen Erich was susceptible to large sums of money.
While whimsically planning to indulge Eliza in luxurious comforts, the wicked young lady continued transforming the light into text for her second proposition.
“The second is to elevate your status from servant to apprentice like Eliza… essentially liberating you from menial duties to earnestly study magic, eventually garnering a better social position.”
Though tempted by yet another sizable amount, Erich’s hand didn’t stop—this time, his willpower surpassing the monetary pressure.
This was quite a significant move, involving substantial funds. To enroll a student, numerous procedures were necessary, and on top of that, she wished to upgrade a servant to a second apprentice under a researcher—borderline unprecedented actions. Naturally, this demanded tremendous power plays and groundwork involving both hassle and expense, far surpassing the first option.
Worse, he was already being noticed by the leader of the academic faction—a troubling life-celebrating zealot. If someone spotted her intentions and jumped at the chance to recruit Erich instead, the outcome would be catastrophic. Thus, swift action would require a staggering expenditure of funds and effort.
Despite the numerous complications, this was a lucrative offer. Focused study on magic, which he had merely dabbled in thus far, would considerably enhance his prowess. The advantages of affiliating with such a faction were incomparable, and the social sway of the title “mage” was not to be underestimated.
“The final offer is a cash prize of 50 drachmas.”
The third light inscribed the number 50. Though less impactful compared to previous proposals, this was still significant. 50 drachmas to use freely could grow manifold times larger, depending on how it was invested.
One could invest, establish trade through agents, or send funds home to increase agricultural scale and secure tuition—endless possibilities stirred thoughts of profit from his merchant days.
Unlike the prior two, this choice carried a significant risk. Whether profit or loss, all consequences would fall on him after taking the money. The eternal truth: those who seek more must bear the corresponding risks.
“Well, I’m not asking you to decide in a day or two. Take your time.”
Even given the short human lifespan, there’s enough leeway for careful deliberation, right? The young long-lived race’s smug grin almost felt benign in comparison to their true nature. The fragile human could not muster the energy to respond.
—
To our esteemed parents, despite this busy season of winter preparation, I trust you are in good health. Though I’ve just returned, it seems my stomach is bothering me again, and I may need the healer’s assistance.
Jokes aside, please stop bombarding me with these event-filled torrents.
As for Eliza, it’s fine. That I’ve worried my adorable sister is my fault. Moreover, lacking the resources for souvenirs—due to reasons and some oversights in Vstroe—I am an incapable brother. Even so, I’ll obediently bear her pillow-hugging for days, and I’ll gladly welcome being used as a footrest while holding her in a princess carry.
Yet, these three perplexing offers—what should I do with them?
If Eliza’s tuition for three years could accumulate, even after deducting this year’s portion, two years of leeway could emerge, and perhaps, Eliza might achieve her independence as a mage. According to Mika, it takes an average of five years for a mage to become self-reliant, so the genius of our house might suffice with three years, wouldn’t you say?
Putting that aside, three years would give me a year’s grace post-adulthood, allowing me to work as a mere adventurer rather than as a servant. This would lead to fulfilling my promise to Margit as well.
Still, the second option is equally tempting, especially having felt the limits of a lone sword.
In one-on-one combat, I’ve come to consider myself skilled enough not to lose easily.
I’ve attained the pinnacle of martial arts, where only <Master> and <Divine Realm> exist above <Mastery>, and with a carefully selected set of auxiliary traits.
My ability to manipulate numerous <Invisible Hands> without tangling, the <Multiple Concurrent Thinking> that underpins control, and the technique of <Spatial Transference Barrier> that nullifies the flashes and roars generated by the impossible-to-resist <Transformation> magic. Altogether, anyone looking at my capabilities might exclaim, “Killing this guy must be such a hassle,” as noted in a game manual.
Still, even with these skills, this time it was two of us—excellent debuffers—fending off death by a hair… no, half a step away. And I remain far from the likes of the heretic before me.
The cause lies in two bottlenecks: the “lack of cutting-edge knowledge” and the “damage source being too physically oriented.”
Hence, researching magic seemed like a decent way to resolve these bottlenecks.
I could learn direct-fire magic as a secondary weapon or delve into <Transformation> spells to amplify sword length and eliminate vulnerabilities. Or, perhaps by crafting a magical or sorcerous trump card, I could pivot from a mere magic swordsman and enhance my power.
The concern lies in whether my intellect can match the standards required of a researcher.
In “this sort of subculture,” if one can wield “some amazing magic” regardless of theory, they are feted as per the classic trope upon entering the Magic Academy.
However, the Magic Academy is an academic institution. “Something amazing happened” or “I don’t know the theory, but something came out” won’t cut it here—it’s surprisingly modern in that respect. The dominance of Abrahamic religions has little influence here, perhaps due to the wild antics of the pioneers.
In short, if one aspires to be a legitimate mage, one must publish papers and earn evaluations. The intricate notes Mika keeps jotting down here and there seem quite challenging to replicate, but perhaps this is just the start for aspiring mages.
Moreover, while studying theory and gaining recognition as an adventurer, how much time and skill development is required? The skills I’ve branched out in—especially the requirement to upgrade courtly language for academic discourse—are exceedingly demanding. The greatest hurdle remains unresolved.
Lady Agrippina offered to enroll me as an auditor but never mentioned footing the tuition fees.
Truly deplorable. She’ll undertake the costs of groundwork, many times more expensive than tuition, but let the tuition be my burden, continuing the status quo. It’s like being a destitute scholar preparing for the imperial exams while paying for living expenses. Perhaps she seeks to make my financial struggles her drinking companion.
“Uh… can I put Eliza to bed?”
“Feel free. Just do it before her neck hurts.”
Let’s leave financial thoughts for later—whether receiving or paying out. It’s unwise to stir thoughts while the mind is muddled. Most importantly, carrying a drowsy Eliza hanging on me benefits neither my neck nor her body.
I suppressed the urge to sleep and laid my sister down gently upon the soft bed…
—
[Magic Academy operates similarly to a university. Promotions aren’t granted without approval from the professors, no matter how many years are spent auditing. There are prodigies promoted after two years and those overshadowed by younger students, their hearts broken. The academy is not only a garden of cutting-edge madness but also a chaotic crucible of talent’s triumphs and tragedies.]
Trivial requests include working water, an indestructible air conditioner, and a well-built front door.
Reward #2. A tormenting reward proposal from the employer that is both intriguing and unpleasant in complexity.
