Episode 1036

“Is there such a prince?”

While Lee Han was dumbfounded, Professor Garcia looked puzzled beside him.

The skilled enchanters of Petrogarde knew how to temporarily breathe life into their works using primitive magic. That was something Professor Garcia was aware of.

But if a painting had been in the artist senior’s residence, the story was different.

If it was a painting that the senior himself had hung up?

“Prince Amritbirma?”

“Who’s that?”

Lee Han tilted his head at Professor Garcia’s muttering.

The red-haired knight answered for him.

“A prince from the old Seven Kingdoms era. He left behind many outstanding works.”

“Ah, I see.”

“…You’re of the Wardanaz family, aren’t you? How can a high noble not know that?”

Sir Ram’s innocent question stung Lee Han a little.

He knew everything about the counterfeit gold speculation scandal from the Seven Kingdoms era, start to finish, but had zero interest in famous artist princes.

“I do know about the counterfeit gold speculation scandal, though.”

“There was such a scandal? Wait. How would someone who knows that not know Amritbirma…”

“Lee Han’s just smart, that’s all. Anyway, Lee Han, you’re saying it wasn’t Prince Amritbirma, right?”

Unable to stand the sight of his student struggling, Professor Garcia stepped in.

But the answer that came back was beyond anything he’d expected.

“No. It was the Headmaster.”

“……”!

Professor Garcia was so deeply shocked that he froze for a moment.

It was as if he’d been hit with time magic.

“Wh-wh-wh-who?”

“The Headmaster…”

“Don’t joke with me! Why would there be a painting of the Headmaster in Senior’s room?”

“It’s a long story…”

Lee Han summarized it briefly and simply.

Professor Garcia couldn’t help but instinctively nod, faced with such a perfectly plausible plan for the senior to attempt.

‘That’s just the sort of thing he’d do!’

It fit his personality precisely enough.

…Not that it was any less odd that it felt expected.

“So there really was a moving painting?”

There were levels even to breathing life into a work.

From simple movement, all the way to holding a conversation.

If it was true that the painting spoke kindly, then even that was possible.

‘As expected of Senior, but still!’

If it could talk even without the artist present, that meant some degree of persistence had been achieved.

Given the great artist’s magic, this was astonishing.

“No. There wasn’t.”

“What?”

“At least, not in any of the paintings I saw… Besides, Senior’s goal was to finish a perfect piece, not some halfway painting.”

What the great artist wanted was a living, breathing, virtuous archmage—not just a kindly archmage able to talk from within a painting.

Naturally, he’d have no reason to spend power on something that wasn’t the ultimate goal.

“I see. Then there’s only one answer.”

Professor Garcia spoke firmly.

“What’s that?”

“You must have been mistaken, Sir Knight.”

“……”

“……”

Lee Han looked at the reality-fleeing Professor Garcia in disbelief. Even Professor Voladi seemed slightly incredulous.

Sir Ram muttered, a bit put out.

“It’s a bit much to call that a mistake…”

• * *

-Ah, Disciple! Long time no see.

“Aaaaaugh!”

Upon entering the residence, Professor Garcia let out a shrill scream.

Sir Ram, startled, asked,

“Why, what happened?”

For a battle magic expert to scream like that—could it be a cursed painting?

“It’s nothing. All Einrogard mages scream when they see that prince’s painting.”

‘Mages!’

Sir Ram clicked his tongue inwardly.

Imperial mages were famous for their eccentricities, but among them, Einrogard was the worst.

“Hurry up and close the door and come in, Lee Han.”

“Oh. The knight shouldn’t hear?”

“Don’t embarrass the school… Just get in here!”

Sir Ram kindly stepped outside.

Inwardly he wondered, ‘Was this the prince ambushed by old Einrogard mages or something?’ but magic matters were for mages to settle among themselves.

Left with just the three (or four, counting the painting), Professor Garcia could finally sigh with relief.

-Are you okay, Disciple? You don’t look well at all.

“I’m fine.”

-Not you, the other disciple.

The prince in the painting pointed at Professor Garcia.

“Ah. Professor Garcia will be fine soon. He just got overloaded with information… But, Master.”

-……

The prince feigned not to hear. Lee Han, puzzled, called again.

“Master?”

-…Ah, sorry. That’s just so nice to hear… No matter how many times I hear it, it never gets old to think a humble mage like me has such wonderful disciples.

“Waaaaaaa. Waaaaaaaaaaa.”

“Please calm down, Professor.”

Lee Han struggled to calm Professor Garcia.

Though he’d experienced it before, encountering it again was clearly beyond expectation.

‘Still surprising.’

And it was indeed surprising to Lee Han as well.

That a painting could maintain a level of conversation even when the great artist was absent was amazing, and the fact that the person inside was the Headmaster Lee Han met in the past was all the more so.

How could that be possible?

‘The artist Senior never visited that past dimension, right?’

“Master, may I ask a few questions?”

-Ask anything, Disciple. It’s my pleasure to help.

The young prince shyly replied. Lee Han had to bite his tongue to keep from passing out.

“Hmm… Yes. Have you ever met the artist Senior?”

-No. I have no connection with that mage.

“Pardon? Oh, but Senior is—technically—also your disciple…”

-No.

The prince cut Lee Han off firmly as he tried to explain the school’s genealogy and composition.

-That person is NOT my disciple. He denied it himself.

“……”

“……”

Lee Han and Professor Garcia exchanged glances.

So right now…

“Are you sulking???”

“Shh. Lee Han. Anyone can feel hurt sometimes.”

“…Right.”

Lee Han decided not to provoke him.

Even a kind prince-era Headmaster, as a painting, was unstable by nature. Best not to poke that bear.

“Wait, then Master, how did artist Senior summon you?”

-That wasn’t him, Disciple.

The prince in the painting readily explained.

Until yesterday, the prince hadn’t even existed in this dimension—he was just a painting.

But as Lee Han practiced music magic under the artist, the prince became aware of his own awakening.

“…Eh?!”

Realizing he himself was the culprit, Lee Han was shocked.

Garcia and Voladi looked at him silently.

Maybe they had no particular thoughts, but Lee Han seemed to hear a faint, ‘Yet again, didn’t even know what you did?’ echoing in his head.

‘Still… it makes sense.’

It would be impossible for the great artist, who never met the living Headmaster in the past, to call something like this into being.

There were only two mages there; if not the other, it must have been Lee Han.

“I really didn’t do anything on purpose—I was merely practicing.”

-I suppose. Even I couldn’t say exactly what happened. But that’s the mystery of magic—it can’t all be understood. Maybe the bond between us filled in the rest of the spell.

“Lee Han, your tongue is bleeding. Don’t bite down so hard.”

“Sorry.”

Professor Garcia cast a healing spell. Apparently his disciple had bitten down too hard while trying not to faint.

He could easily understand—it had happened to him, too.

“Then did the artist Senior leave Master here just so we could learn this?”

-No. I just hid.

The prince was kind and good, but not so soft-hearted as to explain his awakening to non-disciples.

He’d hidden immediately upon awakening, appearing only when the artist fled with his works.

“……”

“It’s fading.”

“It’s fine, Professor. I’m fine.”

As Professor Voladi suddenly expressed concern, Lee Han waved his hand to reassure him.

But the professor looked at his student as if he were a strange person.

“The painting is fading.”

“Ah!”

Lee Han quickly glanced away, embarrassed.

Voladi was right.

Shaken by shock, Lee Han and Garcia hadn’t noticed the colors of the painting growing lighter.

-I’m probably using magic to maintain cohesion. Don’t be alarmed, Disciples.

The prince didn’t mind.

Just being able to talk with his disciples like this again was wonderful.

Because there was a reservoir of leftover magic in the artist’s residence, it could hold together by absorbing that—but once it ran out, it would be goodbye.

“I’ll lend you my magic!”

Lee Han rushed forward.

There was no telling how long they had left with the painting fading.

He approached and radiated mana at the painting.

“How’s this?”

“It’s becoming vivid again, Lee Han. But…”

“?

“…Won’t it be hard for you to keep supplementing mana regularly?”

Professor Garcia asked cautiously.

Storing the huge painting and supplying mana at regular intervals was something Lee Han could handle.

Most mages couldn’t, but this student had a weird habit of giving his mana away. Even monsters and ores were on his charity list.

But keeping a living, breathing young prince painting was a different matter.

The great artist, the Headmaster, or imperial mages might all react—who knew?

If he kept it, endless nuisances would follow—just thinking about strangers showing up and demanding, “Hand over the young Headmaster!” was terrifying already.

-Disciple, don’t force the painting to persist. Every meeting must end in parting.

The prince urged him not to use unnecessary effort.

He didn’t want to linger and trouble Lee Han for his own sake.

After much deliberation, Lee Han made a decision.

“…I’m fine. I’ll just keep it in my backpack!”

‘Ah. Shouldn’t have asked.’

Professor Garcia instantly regretted it.

He should have seized it or let it fade instead of asking such a kind disciple. Now, there was no way Lee Han would ever let it go.

“Will it be okay in your bag?”

-Disciple. Even if you threw this painting into a bottomless swamp, it would remain peaceful inside. A backpack would be luxury.

As Lee Han carefully tried to put the painting in his bag, the prince spoke.

-Disciple.

“Yes?”

-This isn’t a bag—it looks like a basement.

“…?!”

Not the villa cellar again?!