Episode 1175
by CristaeOblivious to Lee Han’s cold and merciless responses, the black magicians grew ever more heated.
“Young whelp, you sure talk a lot. Is it your money building this? No, it’s the Patriarch’s!”
“That’s why the Heirs of Ahrak don’t get commissions.”
“It’s not that we don’t get them—it’s that we refuse the petty ones!”
“Krrk (If you two are going to fight, can I just finish it)?”
“Don’t you dare!”
Half a day later.
The black magicians stared at each other with bloodshot eyes. They were exhausted from their intense spellwork.
In truth, the magic wore them out, but the mutual suspicion and arguing tired them even more.
Still, that all vanished when they looked at their creation.
“This is… beautiful.”
The Heir of Ahrak spoke, and the other black magicians nodded.
Sometimes, a masterpiece emerged from chaos.
Often, even sincere cooperation could yield mediocrity, while fierce arguing between magicians brought forth a masterpiece.
Amazingly, this was such a moment.
Even the black magicians themselves were surprised by the result!
How such a masterpiece came to be, not even the ones involved could explain.
Maybe it was because the Heir of Ahrak’s oversights got ruthlessly corrected by the Legion of Oondorgu, Oondorgu’s mistakes mocked by the Obsidian Tower, and the Obsidian Tower’s errors spit on by the Heir of Ahrak.
Or maybe the crisp, cold northern air awakened the minds of black magicians used to dank crypts…
“How about naming it -Inner Fortress of Ahrak-?”
“Krrrk (Are you crazy)?”
“I knew you were shameless, but not this much. Why are the Heirs of Ahrak like this?”
‘Bastards. That’s just too much.’
Their complaints were sharper than usual.
It was outrageously brazen to stick only their own name on such a masterpiece.
The Heir of Ahrak realized as much and dropped the subject.
“Krrrururuk (What does Oondorgu’s Tower think)?”
“Enough pointless bickering. We all know it’s impossible anyway. The name should satisfy all three.”
“-Inner Fortress of Ahrak, Oondorgu, and Obsidian-? Isn’t that way too long?”
‘He still put his own name first.’
The undead looked at his friend in exasperation.
Relentless when it came to shamelessness.
And then their fight ended in an unexpected way.
“All done!”
“???”
From the other table, Lee Han stood and announced.
The startled black magicians asked,
“What’s done?”
“My commission is finished.”
“…W-what? This here was your commission.”
The old black magician waved their masterpiece.
‘All done’—with a creation from their team effort?
“Oh, you meant this? Punk, you almost got me! So, what name do you think suits it best? Shouldn’t Ahrak take the lead?”
“No, this is what’s done.”
Lee Han waved the blueprints he’d just completed.
It was completely different from the black magicians’ work.
A design of stable, solid magic—hard to believe a second year student drew up such a magical structure.
Professor Taswhan couldn’t help but marvel.
“Excellent…!”
“What’s excellent about it!”
The Heir of Ahrak shouted in rage. The other black magicians nodded along.
“You just used basic spells and connected them! How is that real magic?!”
“No, in magical construction, you’re supposed to use spells fit for the purpose—not make the magic itself the purpose…”
Professor Taswhan argued calmly.
The Patriarch of the Moradi family only commissioned a structure to house and maintain the visiting knights—not a masterpiece for the annals of black magic.
Lee Han’s design was sturdy and efficient.
All the necessary spells, with personal mana-saving shortcuts where possible…
An Einrogard magician loved by imperial officials doesn’t come easy.
“Silence! Look at this!”
The Heir of Ahrak forced their masterpiece on Lee Han. He skimmed it with a faintly disgusted look.
“…!!”
The more he read, the more shocked Lee Han appeared.
As a magician, he couldn’t help but recognize the magic packed inside.
“What kind of spell is this?”
“-Eye of Ahrak-, a semi-permanent black magical eye warding off illusory magic.”
“What about next to ‘filled with bones’?”
“Krrrk (Oondorgu’s secret black magic, -Living Wall-).”
“And this spell…”
“That one’s from the Obsidian Tower. -Seething Darkness-…”
“Oh. I know that one. Professor Mortum taught me.”
“Really? Mortum must have thought highly of it.”
‘Actually, he warned me not to use magic like this—but I won’t say that…’
Lee Han thought grimly.
He hadn’t realized it at the time, but looking now, that was a spell developed by the Obsidian Tower.
No wonder their relations are bad!
After that, a parade of brilliant spells completely new to Lee Han continued.
So brilliant the black magicians themselves didn’t know all of them.
“Krrk (When did that spell exist)?!”
“Of course. Don’t doubt the wisdom of the Heirs!”
“Krrrururuk (And you refused to help me make a new chimera, when you had this)?!”
“You… you did the same! You have a giant undead summoning spell and claimed you didn’t!”
The explanations went on.
Even if he didn’t understand everything, Lee Han managed to cram the big picture into his head.
And his brain felt like it would burst from the effort.
‘Are they insane?’
Lee Han looked at his senior black magicians anew.
Telling a second-year student to build a structure with such magic?
Maybe Professor Mortum’s dislike of these people was more than justified.
“I finished reading.”
“So, brat! Now you see, right? Surely you admit our blueprints are vastly superior to yours?”
“Yes… it seems that way.”
“Then obviously you’ll use ours, right?”
“I’ll still use my own.”
“Why?!”
“It’s my commission, so my choice.”
“……”
It was a childish logic, yet surprisingly hard to refute.
All the black magicians here had lived all their lives by that principle.
“F…fine, I’ll tell the Patriarch!”
“Krrrk (Disgusting, but effective tactic).”
“True, if the Patriarch hears, he could change his mind…”
Even faced with their threats, Lee Han didn’t bat an eye.
“Do as you please.”
“You… you! Just wait! Come on! We’re going to the Patriarch!”
The old black magician, pride forgotten, rushed out.
The others followed in a mob. Only Professor Taswhan was left in confusion.
“I-is this okay? What if the Patriarch sides with them…?”
“He won’t, and if he does, it doesn’t matter.”
“Why not?!”
Taswhan was dumbfounded.
Isn’t this an important opportunity for an Einrogard student?
“There are too many commissions piled up for me anyway, so I wouldn’t mind if it got canceled…”
“……”
At that moment, Professor Taswhan thought he could understand why other black magicians found Mortum’s student so insufferable.
“The Patriarch is busy right now. Out hunting.”
“…What about tomorrow?”
“He’s busy tomorrow as well. Another hunt.”
“…Fine. What about the day after?!”
“Unfortunately, he’s busy that day, too. Another… other… hunt.”
“You shameless knights!! How can you show such a brazen face!!!”
The black magicians found themselves at a loss before northern audacity.
Before the northern problem was solved, they were honored guests; after, just bothersome black magicians.
With the Patriarch stonewalling, there was nothing a mere magician could do.
“Kgh. I should have founded a magic school myself…”
“Krrk (Stop talking nonsense).”
Slinking away, the black magicians spotted a tall, slender elf knight.
Anyone in the domain would know that was the swordsman Ziklin.
“Moradi-nim!”
“?”
As she walked, the black magicians scurried over. Ziklin quirked her head.
“What’s the matter, all of you?”
“Please, listen to an old black magician’s story!”
The Heir of Ahrak poured out his troubles.
We old black magicians only wanted to help our juniors, and this nasty brat, with his tiny bit of authority, disrespected everyone…
“I see. Is that so.”
Ziklin nodded, then started to walk away.
The astonished black magicians shouted.
“N-no, Moradi-nim! Where are you going?”
“It’s the day to train the domain’s knights. Heading to the training ground.”
“…No, wait! You just listened to what we said.”
“Yes. You asked me to listen and I did.”
“……”
Like a badly made golem or chimera, she followed literal instructions—sending shivers through the magicians.
“…So will you support us?”
“I cannot.”
“Why not?!”
“It’s not within my authority. You shouldn’t meddle in what is not yours, either.”
With that, Ziklin firmly walked off.
The black magicians trembled with frustration.
This is why knights who don’t know magic…!
THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD—
“Maybe I should just move.”
Lee Han muttered as he opened the door.
Lately, there’d been too many uninvited guests.
Recognizable black magician faces appeared, making him sigh.
“Why are you here again?”
“One!”
“???”
“Give just one reason your design is better than ours and we’ll accept and leave.”
“My design is faster, cheaper, and easier to build.”
“…I said one, kid!”
The Heir of Ahrak shouted in exasperation.
He just couldn’t stand these Einrogard black magicians.
“If you pick an inferior design just because it’s cheaper… Fine, how about this? I’ll cover the costs myself. And so will this undead friend and this idiot from the Obsidian Tower.”
“Krrk (What)?!”
“What crazy magician spends their own money on a job?!”
Of course, the others vehemently protested. The Heir of Ahrak grinned, pleased.
“Then you two can drop out. The name will be -Inner Fortress of Ahrak-.”
“…Krrk (I can pay).”
“…Alright. I’ve got savings…”
Seeing them haggle among themselves, Lee Han said, exasperated,
“I won’t use it no matter how much money you give.”
“Why not!!”
“It takes too long.”
“If we all work together, it’ll be just as fast!”
“The magic is too difficult. Do you know how many of these spells I don’t even know?”
“That’s…”
The Heir of Ahrak hesitated. The others stared, urging him not to lose.
Cornered, the Heir stammered out,
“…If you learn from us right here… it’ll be easier.”
“……”
“……”
“Krrk (That’s the worst persuasion ever).”
He wanted him to learn a pile of difficult spells, right here, right now?