Chapter 119: The Archmage and the High Noble’s Man (2)

Risir looked toward the end of the hallway.

It was already completely dark by this hour.

And standing in front of his room was a familiar face.

Though he almost didn’t recognize her at first.

Because her aura had changed quite a bit.

“Sir Risir.”

It was Macey, whom Risir remembered as the “lady with glasses, Drey’s representative.”

Her professional demeanor was the same as ever.

But while before it was the kind of businesslike attitude one had toward outsiders, now it was the kind of formality one reserved for honored guests.

Beneath the rigid posture was a touch of genuine respect.

—At last, those bastards are bowing their heavy heads and paying proper respects to Mastah!!!

Risir let out a subtle bitter smile at Dan’Galeon’s voice in his head.

Regardless of how he put it, one thing was clear, his standing with Drey and Pallarg had significantly risen.

“I apologize for visiting at such a late hour without notice.”

“It’s no trouble. Please, raise your head. If you’ve come this urgently, it must be something important. Would you like something to drink?”

When Risir gestured toward his room, Macey gently shook her head.

“No. I mustn’t impose any further. I’ll deliver the message and take my leave.”

Once Risir nodded in agreement, Macey got straight to the point.

“Tomorrow afternoon, there will be a gathering at Lord Goose’s mansion.”

Though the banquet had concluded with great success, Goose’s mansion remained abuzz with outside guests.

Some of the banquet attendees had stayed behind at Goose’s invitation to build stronger ties with one another.

Others were now arriving to establish relations with those same guests.

People attracting people.

In essence, it was an extension—and the real purpose—of Goose’s original banquet.

Now, throughout Goose’s mansion, hushed conversations were taking place that could never be shared in public.

Each of them far from idle gossip, they were discussions of serious business and relationships.

In other words, the remaining guests weren’t just random attendees of a banquet.

They were Goose’s “true guests.”

The gathering that Lord Goose was to host the next day would be a crucial event for those select few to deepen their bonds.

“The two of them hope that you, Sir Risir, will attend the gathering.”

“Me?”

Risir asked again, bewildered.

From his dinner with Fienne, he had already grasped the recent dynamics in the mansion.

He knew what kind of meeting Macey was referring to.

Unlike the more relaxed, party-like atmosphere of the banquet, this one was akin to a highly selective and discreet “club.”

Moreover, most of the guests currently staying at the mansion were foreigners.

Merchants and power players from outside the region, personally invited by Goose to expand his business and influence.

What am I even supposed to do there? Huh? What can I possibly contribute at that table?

As someone who had only just begun to establish himself in Bondalles, it was natural for Risir to have such doubts.

At the banquet, where many local nobles were present, some had reacted with, “Oh? Risir? Could it be?”

But at that club?

Nine times out of ten, the response would be, “Risir? Who’s that?”

And I can’t even count on Rona’s support there.

Risir’s doubts were clearly reflected on his face.

Macey, as if expecting this, calmly delivered her prepared message.

“The two of them wish to commend your achievements in a formal setting.”

“Ah.”

Risir finally understood and nodded.

So basically, they want to polish my image and boost my standing in front of all the important people.

It was a massive offer.

Because really, it wasn’t just about giving him prestige—

It was practically an endorsement in front of key figures, under the names of a high noble and a Archmage.

Risir suddenly recalled his dinner conversation with Fienne from the previous night.

—Among those currently staying at the mansion, these are the ones you should remember.

—First, Romitis, heir to the renowned magic family Palaan, who came after hearing about Pallarg. You said you wanted to witness 7th tier magic, didn’t you? If you get the chance, strike up a conversation. Romitis just recently reached the 7th tier, so you might learn a lot from observing him.

—Next is Brienne, a wandering swordswoman who came upon hearing about Drey. She’s quite well-known in the central continent. A 7th tier swordswoman with several major achievements. She’s not a bad person to study 7th tier techniques from either, but I don’t recommend it. Word is, she’s rather materialistic and you never know what she’ll demand in return. Don’t give her an excuse to get the upper hand over you.

—Lastly, there’s Corsia from the Silver Pouch Merchant Guild. The Silver Pouch Guild is based in the central continent, and it’s massive. Even the Golden Barley Guild would have to show them some respect. Corsia is deeply trusted by one of their top executives. Building a good relationship with her could be helpful in many ways, but I wouldn’t recommend it. Actually, I’d advise against it. She’s trailed by more than a few unsavory rumors. Nothing confirmed, but if you dig around, you could probably weave fabric out of the dust you’d find. If she approaches you, keep your distance, no questions asked.

—Yeah. They’re all major players from the central continent. Wondering why they’ve gathered here? What else, once they heard about the talent collector and the Frozen Breath, they rushed over. For them too, this is a rare chance to meet those two.

—Yes, I know. Of course, you should be grateful. But I heard half of that from Rona, so save half your gratitude and pass it on to her when you see her.

Having organized his thoughts thanks to Fienne’s words, Risir nodded with interest.

Those attending tomorrow’s gathering…

Under normal circumstances, they’d be the kind of people he couldn’t even talk to unless he had already earned an official title from the city council.

But now, he was being offered a golden opportunity, to leave an impression under the names of a high noble and an Archmage.

It was impossible to imagine how many doors this might open.

Risir couldn’t help but admit it.

Pallarg and Drey’s offer was undeniably appealing.

“Additionally, the two wish to spend some private time with you after the gathering. Would that work for your schedule?”

And apparently, that wasn’t even all they had in store.

—Looks like that little performance of playing the brave, wounded young man in the basement paid off. For them to be offering this much, at their level…

Risir silently nodded at Clana’s voice.

We’re talking about a high noble and an Archmage.

People at that level would usually be concerned with saving face and calculating their benefits, but none of that came through in this proposal.

It was so earnest that it almost felt burdensome.

At this point, he had no reason to refuse.

“Understood.”

When Risir gave his answer, a flicker of relief appeared on Macey’s face.

When Risir smiled in response, she awkwardly cleared her throat.

“I will convey Sir Risir’s gracious and generous acceptance to them right away.”

After informing him of the time and place of the gathering, Macey took her leave.

Once she disappeared from view, Risir stepped back into his room.

Now what.

His original plan had been to stay up all night refining his “enhancement” technique.

He had hit a wall, and though he felt he was close to a breakthrough, there wasn’t much else he could do.

But now, things have changed.

Pallarg.

He had approached faster—and more amicably—than Risir had expected.

An Archmage who could offer him more instruction than he could ever ask for.

But would he really teach magic to someone who isn’t even his disciple?

Risir fell into thought.

Mages were notoriously secretive, and the spells they wielded were no different.

7th tier magical knowledge…

Even within the same magical school, it wasn’t something that was easily shared.

Would someone like that really share such knowledge with an outsider he barely knew?

“Ah, screw it. That guy owes me plenty already, he better teach me. If he doesn’t, he’s not human. He’s a devil.”

—Mastah!!! We devils are not that ungrateful!

“Right, right.”

With that, Risir relaxed and lay down on the bed.

Time to reset my biological rhythm.

Scrapping his original plan to stay up all night, he went straight to sleep so he wouldn’t be late to tomorrow’s gathering.

Corsia, merchant of the Silver Pouch Merchant Guild.

She had been in a small town near Bondalles on business, but upon hearing the news, she dropped everything and rushed to the city.

To meet the legendary beasts haunting Goose’s mansion, the Talent Collector and the Frozen Breath at the same time?

Sure.

Normally, that would’ve been her reason.

Winning even a sliver of their favor could mean unbelievable opportunities.

But this time, that wasn’t what drove Corsia.

It was the Third Arm.

The criminal organization that had lifted Corsia to where she stood now—by granting countless favors—had made a demand.

A simple one.

Revenge.

They wanted the man who had ruined their business—Risir—to pay.

They claimed it was essential to re-establish their operations in Bondalles.

And so, Corsia arrived.

And an opportunity came immediately.

A duel between Pallarg’s disciple Moria and Risir.

The very duel that had electrified everyone at the banquet.

Now, after the event, the whispers in the mansion had taken on a very different tone.

“Come to think of it, what happened to Moria after the duel? I remember she seemed… off.”

“Funny you asked, I just talked to Mr. Goose about it.”

“What did he say?”

“He didn’t give details, but apparently, Sir Drey and Lord Pallarg dragged her to the basement and placed her under confinement.”

“Confinement? That sounds serious—”

“Rumor has it, she was a black mage who had been hiding both her age and identity.”

“Gods. How did such a disturbing rumor get started?”

“Romitis said so.”

“You mean the heir to the Palaan family?”

“Yeah. He said Moria’s magical abilities couldn’t be explained by a mere 5th tier level. She displayed traits of the 7th tier. Although it was brief, it was unmistakable. And during the duel, her body underwent some suspicious changes—”

“Damn. I’m no expert in magic, can you explain it simply?”

“Look, the person Moria tricked into thinking she was a genius mage, was none other than the former Blue Tower Master himself, Lord Pallarg. Do you really think just any mage could fool him?”

“No way. That’s impossible.”

“Exactly. Which is why Lord Romitis came to one conclusion. If Moria really deceived Pallarg while hiding her true identity and power, her real level must be at least mid-7th tier.”

“…Hold on a second.”

“What is it?”

“Then what does that make Risir, the young magician who defeated Moria?”

“That’s the thing, everyone’s buzzing about him now.”

There were countless eyes in the mansion.

Those eyes had witnessed Risir being summoned by Drey and Pallarg and heading into the basement.

They had also seen him return with a troubled expression.

That fact spread across the mansion in an instant.

Corsia didn’t miss her chance.

“Sir Romitis. What do you think of Moria’s talents?”

“Preposterous. To display magical ability like that at the 5th tier? The technique of Ideation is still a challenge even for me. If her talent is real, she’s a genius worthy of going down in history.”

“…Then, what do you think of Risir? What he showed?”

“That’s what I want to ask instead. Brienne, what did you think of that final strike that ended the duel? I know nothing of swordsmanship—”

Romitis, heir of House Palaan and a respectable magician.

Brienne, a famous wandering swordswoman and a mighty warrior.

Corsia had called the two together to plant seeds of doubt in them.

“Ugh. No matter what I say, I can’t convey the shock I felt. That strike… if I’d been the opponent, I wouldn’t have been able to react.”

“…You?”

“I’ve seen countless swordsmen. Even assassins. But that blow he unleashed… it made the word ‘assassination technique’ sound laughable. What kind of monster crafted that swordsmanship—?”

“…But he’s supposed to be a magician—”

“Right. That’s the real issue we’re discussing here. Let me rephrase the question: Sir Romitis, what do you think of this man Risir?”

“…”

A 7th tier swordswoman and a 7th tier magician, they both admitted that what Risir had shown was beyond believable.

Using their testimony, Corsia quietly spread those doubts to others.

And so—

The mansion’s guests began to arrive at the same conclusion as both the high noble and Archmage.

That Risir was even more suspicious than Moria.

And that Drey and Pallarg had likely come to the same conclusion.

“A good flow…”

Corsia wore a pleased smile.

All that remained now was to steer Drey and Pallarg into voicing their doubts about Risir during the upcoming gathering.

If a high noble and an Archmage publicly cast doubt on him—

That suspicion would spread across Bondalles, putting his reputation in peril.

Even the merits he had earned purging crime and corruption from the city would be tainted.

Exactly the situation the Third Arm longed for.

If things went well today, she could finally repay her debt to them.

With that hope in mind—

“Let’s go.”

Corsia headed toward the meeting chamber in Goose’s mansion.

She had already laid the groundwork to make sure the meeting didn’t stray off-topic.

Since early morning, she had gathered guests and kept the conversation focused on Risir until the event began.

Led by Corsia, a small crowd moved through the grand corridors of the mansion.

“Has a decision been made about Moria’s punishment?”

“Well, Sir Drey aside, it’s rare for Lord Pallarg to attend something like this. Perhaps he’s here to explain the circumstances to us?”

“To be honest, I’m more curious about Risir than Moria now. What conclusion did they reach about him?”

Eventually, they arrived at the gathering room.

Many guests had already taken their seats in the spacious hall.

In gatherings like this, it was customary for those of lower rank to arrive first.

“…”

“…”

“…”

As Corsia’s party scanned the room, their expressions suddenly froze.

Risir.

He was chatting with other guests.

Exchanging glances, Corsia’s group approached him.

“Hm? Ah!”

Risir greeted them with a casual smile.

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Risir.”

He extended a polite hand toward Corsia.

Corsia merely stared coldly at it.

Her companions followed suit, shooting Risir frosty looks.

This was no banquet.

It was a gathering where power brokers mingled with Lord Goose to discuss business.

Risir had no business being here.

“…”

Shrugging, Risir withdrew his hand.

The person who had been speaking with him sensed the shift and quietly stepped away.

The atmosphere in the room swiftly turned, isolating Risir.

Corsia couldn’t help but sneer inwardly.

What’s this? Did he really think he belonged here? How clueless can one be?

Drunk on his own ego, forgetting his place.

A mistake common among young nobles.

Well, whatever.

This gave her the perfect chance to probe him.

“Risir, was it? What brings you here?”

“Oh, nothing much, I was invited.”

Corsia chuckled and glanced around the room.

Inevitably, disapproving looks followed.

It was only natural.

This was a gathering attended by a high noble and an Archmage.

Even the invited guests were scrambling to maintain their own standing.

Who would be foolish enough to invite someone so obviously unqualified?

“Invited? You were invited? Who in the world made such a thoughtless decision?”

Corsia pressed him, unable to believe it.

And then—

“Ah!”

“There you are—!”

The doors opened, and the event’s stars appeared.

Goose entered the room with Drey and Pallarg.

Immediately, Corsia’s group turned away from Risir to greet them.

“Ah!”

But Drey scanned the room quickly, and when he spotted Corsia’s group, his face lit up.

Corsia recalled the long-standing relationship between the Silver Pouch Guild and the House of Mastien.

It was part of the reason she felt confident orchestrating all this.

The guild and Mastien had enjoyed good relations for years.

So naturally, she assumed Drey was smiling at her.

She began approaching with a warm greeting—

But Drey strode right past her.

“Risir! Thank you for coming!”

He clasped Risir’s hand firmly.

Then, unable to hold back, pulled him into a warm hug.

“…”

“…”

“…”

No one else in the room could’ve evoked such familiarity.

Caught off guard, Corsia’s group was left reeling.

Afterward, the misunderstanding was cleared up.

Drey and Pallarg explained the full circumstances in order to commend Risir’s achievements.

It was revealed that Moria had been a high priestess of a heretical cult, hiding her true identity.

And Risir, who had defeated her?

Was just Risir.

Brienne and Romitis, as experts in swordsmanship and magic respectively, struggled to accept it.

But what could they say?

If the Archmage “Frozen Breath” Pallarg said so—

All they could do was nod along, muttering, “Wow. Incredible.”

The gathering, under the leadership of a high noble and an Archmage, essentially turned into a Risir Appreciation Event.

Being deceived by a cultist and surviving thanks to another’s help…

It could have tarnished Pallarg’s reputation.

But Pallarg didn’t hide any of it.

He revealed it all, to fully honor Risir’s achievements.

When Corsia realized this, her vision darkened.

The situation was the exact opposite of what she had expected.

Instead of suspicion, Risir was being favored.

Could the Third Arm still exact their revenge on such a man?

The answer didn’t need much thought.

To oppose someone adored by both a high noble and an Archmage… for the sake of a debt owed to a mere criminal group?

Corsia, being a merchant, knew how to do the math.

Trying to salvage things now would only cost her more.

And so, she made her decision after much internal struggle.

Where to invest the rest of her life.

“Lord Pallarg, Sir Drey. I have something to report.”

Corsia discreetly passed a message to them.

She confessed her involvement with the Third Arm and their plan to harm Risir.

They looked at the foolish merchant who had allied with criminals with cold eyes.

But they only had one thought in their minds.

Risir.

They had to deepen their connection with him.

And so, their reply far exceeded what Corsia had hoped for.

“Understood. We’ll handle that ourselves.”

Corsia couldn’t grasp the full weight of those words—

Nor the consequences they would bring.

“Well then, we’ll be off.”

The “Risir Appreciation Event” wrapped up after roughly thirty minutes.

The Archmage and the high noble left immediately after praising Risir and watching him exchange introductions with others.

Taking Risir with them.

“…”

The rest could only watch them go with wistful eyes.

“Before we begin a proper conversation, I must ask you this first. Risir, during the duel with Moria, you said that if you won, I’d grant you one request. What was it you wanted to ask?”

The moment he arranged a private meeting with Drey and Risir, Pallarg brought it up.

Risir didn’t feel caught off guard in the slightest.

Ever since he’d left his room that day, this had been on his mind.

“I would like to witness your magic, Lord Pallarg. Please let me observe the famed Ideation.”

“Oh…!”

Pallarg’s eyes lit with interest.

At the same time, Drey’s expression tensed slightly.

Risir.

He thought Risir might be interested in becoming Pallarg’s disciple.

With Moria now removed, that “disciple candidate” seat was vacant, it was a logical ambition.

“You want to observe Ideation… That’s not difficult.”

Pallarg gladly flicked his hand.

With that gesture, a current of mana stirred in the air.

The 7th tier.

A realm most mages only dreamed of reaching.

The current Pallarg created was too simple to be called a masterful magic, yet it contained the essence of Ideation.

This current of mana consisted of nothing but Ideation.

Pallarg had fulfilled Risir’s request faithfully.

Of course, he understood—

This wasn’t what Risir had truly wanted.

What he’d hoped to witness was the magic that Pallarg—the Frozen Breath—had crafted with everything he had, centered on Ideation.

“You asked to observe the technique of Ideation, and this is the result of fulfilling that request. A flow of mana crafted purely with the principle of Ideation. What do you think? Is this what you were hoping for? Probably not. Risir, Ideation isn’t some grand concept. It’s just one of the many elements that make up a spell. Even if you understand it, it won’t cause some dramatic change in you. So, Risir, I make this proposal—”

If you wish to reach higher, why not study magic properly under me?

Like a grandfather teasing his grandson with candy.

Just as Pallarg grinned mischievously and was about to extend the offer—

“Oh! This is it!”

Risir shouted, eyes sparkling as he closely examined the flow of mana.

Huff!

Huff!

His breathing became labored in an instant.

…His mana had surged.

He had reached the 7th tier level.

“?”

Pallarg, noticing the change in Risir, tensed his thick eyebrows.

“Ah.”

Seeing his reaction, Risir hurried to explain.

“Please don’t be alarmed! I merely replicated the sudden mana surge that occurred in Moria during our duel!”

“?”

Replicated? What exactly did he replicate?

And how?

Risir’s explanation only made things worse.

Pallarg’s furrowed brows tightened even further.