Chapter 32 : Millennium Height (6)

The wizard called Jerry let out a voice full of ridicule.

“No matter who you are, you must have at least heard of Lady Adellian Croft.”

It was extremely rare to find a wizard who didn’t know of Adellian.

She was a High Archmage of the 8th Circle.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say she was already half a god.

Not knowing someone like her?

Even if you were training in seclusion in the mountains, it would be impossible.

Her name would be written on the very first page of any magic tome found in those mountains.

Naturally, the mercenary being picked on would feel overwhelmed by the weight of Adellian’s name—so famous it could pierce the heavens—but he spoke unfazed.

“Your master might be great, but that doesn’t make you great, does it?”

“You insolent bastard.”

Jerry’s gaze changed.

Adellian Croft was famous for her overwhelming power, but even more so for her eccentric behavior.
She took on countless disciples—without discrimination.

Her method was peculiar: if someone caught her eye on the street, she would simply take them as a student.

The duration of her teaching varied from person to person.

Some were taught for a month, others kept by her side for over ten years.

What was strange was that even though she taught one-on-one, there were many who claimed to have received her guidance on the same day in entirely different places.

Because of this, people speculated she used duplication magic.

Either way, her disciples were commonly known as:

“Adellian’s Children.”

Or the “Croft School.”

The disciples themselves preferred the term “Croft School.”

The most famous among them were the current royal court wizard and the Blue Tower Master.

Essentially, those two upheld the Croft School’s prestige.

The rest weren’t bad, but compared to 7th Circle wizards, they fell short.

Among Adellian’s disciples who could rival those two, only one came to mind—Kelton.

The mercenary continued, his expression full of disbelief.

“This is exactly why I hate the Croft School. You all just ride your master’s coattails. Don’t you realize your behavior tarnishes Lady Adellian’s reputation?”

“Her reputation isn’t something that can be tarnished by someone like me.”

“You’re a strange one. Can’t tell if you’re being loyal or sarcastic.”

The mercenary shook his head in annoyance and scratched his ear.

“Are you even really from the Croft School? Anyone could wear that color of robe.”

Indeed, the deep indigo robe, inspired by Adellian’s eye and hair color, was unique—but not exclusive.

Anyone could buy one if they wanted.

Jerry replied curtly to the mercenary’s question.

“Sounds like you’re jealous.”

“What?”

“I used to live a life just like yours—rolling around the streets. But now? I’m a 4th Circle wizard and a
disciple of an Archmage. You’re a mercenary wizard. Judging by your gear, probably only 1st or 2nd Circle.”

“How would you know that?”

“Listen carefully, mercenary. As a wizard ascends in rank, they discard unnecessary gear. They don’t walk around weighed down like you.”

Whoosh.

A flame flickered to life in Jerry’s hand.

Jerry spoke.

“There’s only one reason for this difference—whether you were chosen by Lady Adellian or not. I was chosen. You weren’t. That must burn with envy, doesn’t it?”

“Bullshit.”

“You said you doubt I’m from the Croft School? Then let me show you proof. Open your eyes wide.”

The flame in Jerry’s hand transformed.

It took the shape of a rod, floating in his hand, and soon a ring of fire circled around it.

The flaming wheel spun, filling the inn’s hall with a mechanical noise—a sound oddly similar to a motor.

“If you have eyes, you should recognize this. The Croft School’s heirloom spell: Thunderwheel (轟輪).”

Heirloom magic.

That’s what allowed schools like Croft’s to exist in the first place.

It’s impossible to teach someone a unique spell.

Even if a student learned the exact same unique magic as their master, it wasn’t thanks to the master—it was a rare coincidence of matching potential.

Therefore, technically, schools of magic shouldn’t exist.

If nothing is shared between teacher and student, how can a school be formed?

And yet, they did exist in this world.

That meant something was shared between them—and people called it heirloom magic.

Just like a chef’s signature dish, magic that represented a school’s founder or key figures was passed down and carried their will.

“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

As Jerry smirked, the murmurs around them grew.

“It’s Thunderwheel.”

“For real.”

“It’s the real Thunderwheel.”

Thunderwheel was famous as Adellian Croft’s signature spell.

And not just among wizards—It was even more famous among ordinary people.

When a wizard’s signature spell becomes recognizable to the general public, it usually means one thing:

It caused a major incident.

“That’s the spell that supposedly ground up the World Tree? First time seeing it in person.”

“The fairies still freak out at just the mention of Adellian’s name because of that incident.”

Enjoying the onlookers’ reactions, Jerry struck a haughty pose.

“A spell like this? You low-level street wizards could never obtain it.”

“Hah.”

“Now, kneel, mercenary. This is why you and I can’t even breathe the same air—”

“Lady Adellian would never pass down her magic to a disciple, though?”

The inn fell into a sudden silence.

At the drastic shift, I quickly looked around.

Then Kris asked, confused,

“Miss Luina? What’s wrong?”

“I was just trying to find who silenced the entire inn.”

“That was you, Miss Luina.”

“Oh, so I was the culprit.”

“Who the hell is this chick?”

Jerry growled, clearly annoyed by the sudden interruption.

I kindly explained to Jerry.

“Adelian doesn’t teach inheritance magic to his disciples, does he? Or am I wrong?”

Considering the values of Adelian that I had heard from Kelton, it was impossible for the Croft school to have inheritance magic.

“Every wizard has their own unique magic. What I teach is how to kindle that magic,” Adelian had said on the first day he took Kelton as a disciple.

Because of this, Kelton had never inherited any magic from Adelian.

But when Kelton once asked him about it, Adelian had briefly answered.

“You must create your own magic to represent you.”

That was Adelian Croft.

But it felt strange that a school following such a person would practice inheritance magic, calling it “Gyeongryun” (the name of a specific magic).

Jerry, responding to my question, spoke calmly.

“That’s because the master is a busy person. Inheritance magic is something I learned separately after joining the school.”

“Really?”

It felt a bit strange that a school wouldn’t follow the values of its founder, but since Adelian was basically a hands-off kind of person, I thought he would leave his disciples to do as they pleased, even if they adopted Gyeongryun as inheritance magic.

“Now, answer my question. What kind of person is he?”

“He was a disciple of Master Adelian.”

“A second-generation disciple?”

“Second generation? What’s that?”

When I tilted my head at this new distinction, Jerry clicked his tongue softly.

“It means a disciple who wasn’t directly taught by Master Adelian but learned from someone who was.”

“I see.”

“How high of a rank?”

“A fourth rank.”

In order to keep the conversation flowing smoothly, I mentioned the rank I had reached. Jerry’s expression turned odd.

“…Fourth rank?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t lie. There’s no way someone your age is a fourth-rank wizard.”

“Actually, that’s a lie.”

“You’re playing with me now.”

“Hey, Jerry.”

Another wizard from the Croft school, who was nearby, intervened.

Jerry looked angrily at the group.

“What is it?”

“Look carefully at the face hidden beneath the robe.”

“Face? Why… huh?”

Jerry was startled.

I was surprised too.

“What’s wrong? Did I get honeydew on my face or something?”

“Luina, I think he’s surprised by your face.”

“No, why would I be surprised by something like that? Get rid of it.”

“…You said Luina, right? I’m Jerry, a fourth-rank wizard. Please state your exact rank.”

“I’m a third-rank Luina.”

“A fourth-rank, huh?”

Now that I thought about it, Kelton never told anyone that he was Adelian’s disciple until he reached the fourth rank.

Was Jerry the same?

Did he keep quiet until he reached the fourth rank and only now start bragging about it?

I didn’t think so.

Even though I had just met Jerry, I could tell he wasn’t that kind of person.

Besides, revealing one’s master’s identity at the third rank or fourth rank wasn’t something Adelian had set any rules for.

Kelton had sworn to keep it quiet himself, so there was no need for others to follow it.

Actually, Kelton was the strange one.

Normally, people like Jerry proudly go around bragging that they’re a disciple of a grand wizard, using the master’s name to create their own school, just like these people.

“A mere third-rank is being so arrogant.”

Jerry raised his eyebrows and accelerated Gyeongryun.

I raised my eyebrows too.

This guy could never resist doing stuff like this in a crowded tavern.

I summoned a wooden soldier and restrained Jerry.

“Why are we doing this?”

“Jerry, I told you not to mess with people!”

As applause rained down from all directions, I walked toward Jerry.

“Jerry, how can you pick a fight with others like that? Don’t do it again.”

When I gave this golden advice, Jerry muttered, tears welling in his eyes.

“That mercenary spilled alcohol on my clothes first and didn’t even apologize…”

Wait, that’s the backstory?

I quickly searched for the mercenary, but he had long since disappeared.

See?

This is why mercenaries are no good.

I had said from the beginning that the mercenary guy was shady.

In this awkward situation, I quickly thought of a solution.

Well, let’s see…

“Who told you to use magic recklessly in a tavern?”

Fortunately, Jerry’s flaw wasn’t a single one.

I quickly shifted my approach.

Phew.

One problem solved.