Episode 1110
by CristaeSaratan couldn’t help feeling wronged, but he steadied his resolve.
The truth was, he’d built up some grudging sentiment with this wizard.
Granted, Saratan always took the beatings, but feelings are sometimes illogical.
Last time, Lee Han had stepped in to save Saratan from danger, and it left a deeper impression on the spirit than he expected.
Saratan decided that, as the greater being, he would endure and pass on this warning.
‘I’ll bear with it, you punk.’
-Mage, listen to me. If a strong spirit appears, you could be in real danger!
“Hmm?”
Lee Han glanced once at Professor Garcia, still glum by the lakeside.
Then he looked at Professor Voladi, at Joulin, and at the gathering of tower wizards.
‘Is there really any danger?’
Frankly, with this much firepower, not even a demon duke would be that threatening.
Still, Lee Han decided to at least pretend to listen.
If he kept brushing off this spirit, Saratan might turn rebellious.
“I see. If a strong spirit appears, it could be dangerous. Spirits are fearsome things.”
-Ah! You finally understand!
‘?’
The baby basilisk in his sleeve tilted her head.
From her experience, if you asked who was scarier, master or spirit, the answer was obviously master.
She’d seen most spirits get scared out of their wits…
“So which fearsome spirit do you mean?”
-It should be one of darkness, lightning, or flame.
Saratan carefully relayed what he sensed.
Even though he hadn’t fully recovered and was sealed inside a mage’s staff, he could still gather this much—proof of his skills.
He didn’t earn the savage nickname “Battlewood King” for nothing among spirits. To be a brawler, you had to be smart, too.
Of course, to Lee Han, the report was silly.
‘What? This guy?’
One of darkness, lightning, or flame—a completely useless hint.
Lee Han himself could’ve guessed as much.
“I see. Thanks for letting me know. Anything else?”
Lee Han’s tone was slightly disappointed, but Saratan didn’t notice.
He was actually thrilled the mage was listening and carried on eagerly.
-It’s probably an exile.
“Exile?”
-A spirit who can’t settle in any domain and just roams about.
Spirits were fundamentally beings from other dimensions like angels and demons.
Yet, people of the empire saw them as familiar because, compared to other outsiders, spirits had a relatively friendly and approachable attitude.
They sometimes kept their distance from those with overwhelming power, but most of the time, spirits were rather sociable.
However, not all of them were so friendly. Saratan himself was sealed away for his violent, unruly ways.
Exile spirits had usually committed many crimes and been chased away by other spirits.
-If it’s not fully loose yet, find wherever it’s hiding and finish it off!
“Huh? Finish it off?”
Lee Han was caught off guard.
Actually, Saratan was a little surprised, too.
-Then what were you thinking of doing?
“Convince it… or contract it…”
-How are you going to contract an exile spirit? Didn’t you listen… S-sorry.
Saratan’s temper flared in disbelief. Lee Han grimaced.
“You’re contracted to me, aren’t you?”
-…That’s not a contract…
Being stuffed into a staff and tortured couldn’t be called a contract among spirits.
To share true names and resonate souls was something sacred—no comparison with imprisonment!
“Okay, okay. I’ll just attack and banish it, fine.”
-I’m ready.
Saratan growled eagerly.
Whether darkness, lightning, or flame, he was ready for a fight.
“Right. Thanks.”
After responding, Lee Han headed toward the professors.
Saratan, expecting to be let out, stared blankly after the mage.
Wait…!
The imperial adventurer party, Guardians of Shadow Valley, drove their pegasus on in haste.
They’d just learned the artifact they’d been seeking had been snatched by others.
The party leader and black mage from Kalarogard, Jute, cried out restlessly,
“Miners! If you find anything magical, call a wizard—not knights!”
“Calm down, Jute. Other knights maybe, but the White Oak Knights aren’t reckless.”
Party bodyguard and orc warrior Iliane soothed Jute.
Everyone in the Empire knew knights were bad with magic, but seasoned veterans like the White Oak Knights were a little different.
They wouldn’t bungle things by chasing glory.
“They’ve already headed to the tower, after all.”
“That’s the problem! We did the tracking—are we just supposed to sit by while the tower guys take the credit?!”
Jute could not accept it.
They’d deciphered old tomes, followed hidden maps, beaten off looters and bandits, arrived at last, only for some miners to dig it up at random?
It was too much. Jute grumbled continuously.
“It’s the life of a black mage. Doomed from the start. I should have known since Kalarogard.”
“……”
“……”
The party members exchanged glances.
Their leader was objectively a skilled mage, but had one major flaw—
If anything didn’t go his way, he immediately blamed “black magic’s curse” for his misfortune.
In the Empire, black mages weren’t welcomed. Some remote villages would shout, “No! Don’t let them near the graveyard!” and bar the doors.
But with Jute’s skills and achievements, regretting black magic now seemed unnecessary.
He was already a great mage…
“Jute, relax. Just random bad luck.”
“Yeah, studying black magic doesn’t make you unlucky—remember, you said that yourself.”
“…Maybe. Let’s try persuading the tower, at least.”
Jute finally calmed a little.
In fact, things weren’t hopeless. Customarily, the ones doing the chase got priority.
And the artifact was in the hands of the White Oak Knights, not the tower.
The White Oak Knights weren’t flunkeys of the tower, and surely wouldn’t want to earn the adventurers’ enmity.
But when the party arrived at the tower, the response waiting for them was totally unexpected.
“…Everyone’s busy right now?”
“Yes, sorry. If you could just wait…”
The tower wizards bowed and apologized repeatedly.
They hadn’t finished fully brainw—as in, persuading—their guest.
Until that was over, any other arrivals were told to wait.
“What’s up with this?”
Jute’s orc friend seemed amused; Jute was livid.
“That’s nonsense! There’s no way every mage in Daylily Tower is busy! It’s not like they’re summoning a demon lord!”
“Then what?”
“Daylily Tower…! I never thought this, but are they trying to keep the artifact for themselves?!”
Jute fumed and trembled.
He’d disliked towers for years (specifically, since graduating from Kalarogard and never being invited to any major tower).
With no real explanation except “everyone’s busy,” his suspicion only grew.
“We’re sneaking in! We have to meet the knights and persuade them, even if it’s by force. These cowards. Do they think they can cheat a black mage?”
The others hesitated, but trusted their leader—Jute had never been wrong about magic!
Lee Han excused himself and left the banquet for a bit.
Of course, it wasn’t easy.
-You’re not leaving, are you?
-No, I just need to check something…
-Was it something we did wrong, or—
-No, it’s just for a moment—
-Please, don’t go! We have eight more events prepared!
-……
Silence fell among Lee Han and the professors.
Saratan, flustered, asked,
-If you’re that nervous, why not let me out?
“It’s not the spirit I’m scared of, it’s the tower people.”
-……
Saratan swore inside.
After all his warning, this wizard was just thinking about that?!
But Lee Han—and the two professors—were thinking the same thing. Professor Garcia quietly started,
“Professor Baegrek, I mean… Has it crossed your mind there might not actually be a commission?”
Maybe all Daylily Tower wanted was to feed Lee Han well, treat him nicely, and recruit him.
It was the most outrageous “commission” in all Einrogard history, but the suspicion was now firmly lodged in Garcia’s mind.
Lee Han tried to resist.
“Maybe the spirit Saratan mentioned is the commission?”
“I hope so…”
Meanwhile, Professor Voladi checked the time, unconcerned with the conversation.
‘Looks like I can teach for another 30 minutes.’
CRACK!
“?”
With a sound like crashing stone, a group of adventurers appeared before Lee Han.
‘Wait—thieves?’
That thought was quickly followed by regret.
This wasn’t Einrogard; how could he judge strangers at first sight? That was awfully rude.
“Oh. A Kalarogard mage.”
Hearing Professor Garcia’s mutter, Lee Han felt worse.
This wasn’t Baldrogard, to be suspicious of Kalarogard mages…
‘Smashing a tower wall isn’t too strange here.’
“Do you know where the White Oak Knights are?”
Jute, the seasoned adventurer, asked without missing a beat.
If he showed even a hint of surprise, it would only look more suspicious.
“The White Oak Knights? I’m not sure. Are they here at the tower?”
“…Okay. Let’s try this way!”
“Wait! That’s—”
Lee Han tried to stop them, flustered.
Seeing they were outside guests, he knew where they were heading—the lakeside meditation, not something outsiders usually saw.
If the tower wizards hadn’t opened it up, that meant it could be shocking or odd.
‘It might be really weird or uncomfortable for them!’
“You can’t go there!”
“Aha! So that’s where the knights are!”
“No, that’s the guest quarter—”
Before Lee Han could finish, Jute and the party had gone.
Moments later, they returned, pale and dazed.
“W-why are all the wizards lying down like that?! Were they caught in an illusion spell??!”
“It’s… uh, it’s just some new event. The tower’s running it.”
Professor Garcia jumped in to explain, but it wasn’t very convincing.
Jute now started to wonder if the entire Daylily Tower had succumbed to some evil god cult.