Episode 1032

Episode 1032

The Einrogard students whispered among themselves about the magic, which was far more complex and transcendent than they had expected.

Turning a soulless work into a living being.

Among mages, the most dangerous types were those who became obsessed with such difficult magic.

Devoting oneself to such tricky magic with one’s soul would eventually drive the mage insane.

“Seems like he’s a mad mage…”

“The great artist is not a madman!”

Bunarrojo protested hotly.

How dare they insult the artist who had inspired so many Petrogarde students!

“I was nice enough to explain it just because you’re outsiders…! Hmph! Get lost.”

When the relatively cooperative Petrogarde student became angry, the Einrogard students hurried to appease him.

If that great artist really was a mad mage, then they needed to smooth things over and get more information. They couldn’t just let him go like this.

“Ah, no. It was a misunderstanding. You heard wrong. It’s this prince here who made a slip of the tongue.”

“Yeah! Why would you say something so misleading! Apologize!”

“Grr. I was wrong. I meant a different person when I said mad mage.”

“Who?”

“Uh… our Headmaster?”

“……”

Bunarrojo looked incredulously at Gainando, who called his own school’s Headmaster a mad mage.

“…Very well. I’ll accept your apology for now.”

“Thanks!”

The Einrogard students were delighted.

And they got straight to the point.

“So tell us a bit more about the great artist.”

“If he has any weaknesses, tell us those too. He doesn’t need to use any magic that requires a lot of mana, does he? That’d be a concern.”

“……”

Bunarrojo eyed the Einrogard students with a hint of suspicion.

Were they really asking out of genuine curiosity about the great artist?

“Suspicious.”

“W-What do you mean? We’re just… interested in art now. Right?”

“Y-Yeah. Art! We love art. Wow!”

“Then prove it.”

“What?”

“Prove it.”

Bunarrojo pulled out a few more leather pouches and poured them on the ground.

Tools for painting, carving tools, musical instruments, quills and paper for poetry or novels, all were arrayed there.

“Pick one and make something. If I feel it’s sincere, I’ll tell you about the great artist.”

“…Can’t we just solve it the Einrogard way?”

“Shh. We’re in Petrogarde. Let’s not make things worse.”

As the students who weren’t confident in art tried to use force, their friends quickly stopped them.

“Ugh. The only drawing I did was when I was a little kid.”

“Tutanta is better off. He’s good at sculpture, right?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I prefer building practical buildings.”

Each complained and grabbed whichever tool they thought they could manage or that looked easiest.

Yonere, who had planned to teach Nillia the flute, cocked an eyebrow when Gainando grabbed the canvas and brushes.

“You know how to paint? Why not just write a short story?”

Of course, any story Gainando wrote was likely to be a disaster.

Yonere had already read several of the stories Gainando wrote, claiming they’d be submitted to imperial mystery magazines (stories about a revered, noble-blooded prince who could make any criminal confess with a glance).

Still, it would probably be better than the alternatives…

“No, the twist isn’t ready yet.”

“O-Okay, but are you any good at painting?”

“No, but I figure it’s enough just to slap paint around, right?”

Oblivious to Bunarrojo glaring fiercely from behind, Gainando said this.

Yonere shook her head.

Gainando was a guaranteed failure, so the rest would have to do their best to make at least one work satisfying that picky Petrogarde student.

• * *

“Senior! Senior!”

Professor Garcia pounded on the door of the room where the great artist was staying.

He knocked so hard that the surface of the space magic around it trembled. Alsicle thought to himself,

‘Could this be an excuse to attack, pretending to be knocking on the door?’

But probably not.

If it were, Alsicle thought he would have been told in advance.

…Probably!

Bang!

The door opened, and the great artist appeared.

Disguised in completely different clothes from last time, but with that unique aura and gesture, Garcia was sure the other was the Headmaster’s former apprentice.

“Ack… no, senior!”

Trying to call out the name, Professor Garcia quickly changed his words.

The mage who had abandoned not only his apprentice status but also his name.

There was no need to risk angering him by calling his real name.

But Professor Garcia forgot one thing.

…That as long as he was a professor, whatever he said would inevitably annoy the other!

“Who says I’m your senior? Get lost!”

Bang!

The great artist slammed the door and cast eight overlapping space distortion spells on its surface.

-T-The great artist…

Professor Garcia belatedly realized outside and called out desperately, but the great artist ignored him.

“…Wasn’t that just the professor?”

“They were traitors.”

As if nothing happened, the great artist waved his arm again.

Then, the bleak room’s walls flipped as if collapsing, revealing the paintings he’d hidden.

All were veiled with black cloth, so their contents couldn’t be seen, but an extraordinary power emanated from within. They were by no means ordinary paintings.

“Where did I leave off?”

“You said you were trying to breathe eternal life into your works… Is that really possible?”

“You’re the Headmaster’s apprentice and successor; you tell me. Do you think it’s possible?”

‘He’s really got a grudge.’

Lee Han grumbled inwardly and cautiously replied.

“If it’s just temporary… I think it could be realized with a Small World or a Personal World. With other magic, the process would get too complicated.”

Animating the inanimate was certainly possible, but actually infusing even temporary life was a daunting question of how to link the magics together.

In that case, just breaking the laws themselves in a Small World or Personal World seemed far likelier.

But…

“Still, isn’t that very far from permanent?”

“Exactly. You’re clever. Spell Word magic, Small World, even Personal World… whatever the method, making it permanent is tough. That’s why I’m thinking of another approach.”

The great artist drew a symbol of a human figure in the air.

Then he drew the symbol of a Personal World inside it, and then the symbol of eternal cycle.

Grasping the meaning, Lee Han asked in a surprised voice,

“You’re going to summon a Personal World inside the work and keep it maintained?”

“Yes.”

“Is that possible?”

If one could keep a Personal World maintained, the work could truly remain alive like a being with a soul.

Such world-warping great magic did have that potential power.

But maintaining a Personal World continuously seemed even more impossible than just giving life to a work.

How?

Lee Han suddenly had a thought and hesitated.

‘No way?!’

“Don’t tell me… my mana…!”

“By using the very essence of primitive magic in art… What did you just say?”

“Nothing at all.”

Lee Han coughed, hiding his embarrassment.

‘This is all because of Professor Verdus.’

Becoming a professor and constantly thinking about tapping students’ mana had made Lee Han this paranoid.

The great artist didn’t notice Lee Han’s paranoia and continued explaining.

“Perhaps… the reason mages don’t exceed their limits is because they define those limits for themselves too quickly. Like a flea trapped in a glass bottle can’t jump higher, even once it’s outside.”

“Actually, that’s not true in real life.”

“The truth doesn’t matter. In fact, your point just supports mine.”

The analogy was wrong, but the great artist’s words made sense.

Magic as a field that distorts reality is intrinsically linked to the mage’s will.

If, deep in the mage’s subconscious, there’s a “This is impossible” restriction, something already nearly impossible becomes that much harder.

“Definitely… I relate, as I also lack confidence. Self-confidence is important in learning magic.”

“Isn’t it?”

If any of his friends were present, they’d have thrown rocks at him for joking, but the great artist was completely taken in.

Because he wasn’t a professor.

“I plan to break through this limit with primitive magic. It’s random and uncontrollable, but those qualities might be what let you get past psychological barriers.”

‘It makes no sense, but it sounds oddly plausible.’

The great artist’s point was that since ordinary methods were impossible, he would gamble on whatever slim chance there was until it worked.

Normally, it’s nonsense, but given the aim, there was a certain persuasive logic to it.

“True… it does seem the most probable, actually.”

“Right?”

Though the great artist covered himself so thoroughly that not a hint of skin was visible, Lee Han sensed he was smiling for the first time.

“This is the realization I gained after a long time escaping into art. If I’d stayed under that bastard, I’d never have realized any of it.”

“……”

Lee Han didn’t ask who “that bastard” was. He changed the subject instead.

“So, which work are you trying to bring to life? Is it perhaps an imagined lover?”

Recalling the story of an artist who wanted to carve and then bring to life the lover of his imagination, Lee Han asked.

But the great artist scoffed, as if Lee Han was talking nonsense.

“Not even back at Einrogard did I hear such ridiculous nonsense. Why would I pour all this magic and art just to make some lover?”

“S-Sorry.”

Lee Han felt very embarrassed.

Of course that wouldn’t be it!

‘I’ve read too many fairy tales.’

“You’ll be interested when you see it yourself. Look.”

The great artist waved his arm again.

From somewhere, a song from the days of the ancient kingdom played.

At the same time, the covers over the paintings disappeared, and a statue slowly rose from the floor.

Amazingly, they were all sculptures of the Headmaster in his human days!

“……”

As Lee Han stared, speechless with shock, the great artist explained, as if he’d expected this reaction.

“Throw away those ridiculous assumptions you’re making right now. Don’t tell me you think I’m doing this out of reverence for him?”

“Uh… I thought you’d bring him to life and torture him for revenge.”

“…What kind of horrific idea is that?!”

The great artist was horrified by the youngest’s cruel notion.

If it’s revenge he wanted, he’d just do it himself—why go to all this trouble?

“I didn’t go to all this trouble for art and magic out of vengeance. I’m not that foolish a mage. Why do you think the empire’s mages bow before that man?”

“They also bow more when—”

The great artist seemed uninterested in Lee Han’s answer and continued on.

“The answer is that the villain holds the ancient line of mystery from long ago. In reverse, if there were one more inheritor of that line, we could break free from his tyranny. Can you imagine it? If there was a mage with the exact same abilities as that villainous archmage, but with a good and just heart?”

“Oh. I’ve met one.”

“…Are you out of your mind?”