Episode 977

At first, the golem senior thought it was a joke.

But the junior’s eyes were very serious. Overwhelmed by that gaze, the golem senior answered as sincerely as possible.

“Ah, I don’t think that would be possible. It’s really hard to predict a divination mage better than yourself.”

Fundamentally, because divination magic is designed to glimpse uncertain futures, its foundations are fragile and precarious.

Even predicting relatively smooth futures requires delicate preparation—if the future is entangled with several unpredictable variables like other diviners?

From there, the mental load on the mage skyrockets.

Not to mention that predicting a diviner greater than oneself… goes without saying.

‘Tsk.’

Lee Han shivered in regret.

“…The more I learn about magic, the more shaken I become by the incompleteness of this field.”

“That’s a good thing to say.”

Passing by, Mad Clone praised him approvingly.

Seeing his disciple forcibly shutting out distractions and focusing diligently on magic these days was quite satisfying.

Perhaps the kid had finally come to his senses.

‘I’d like to punch him.’

While Lee Han glared irreverently at his master’s back, the Brass Golem senior hurriedly called him over.

“Junior. Come here. I’ll teach you as vigorously as the energy of a newborn star.”

“…You really don’t have to take that literally. Let’s just forget about it.”

But the golem senior was already determined.

From their perspective, there’s no real difference between the skeleton headmaster and his mad clone.

Both were grand mages, eccentric, and likely to raise a fuss if they weren’t obeyed.

He had been told to teach Lee Han passionately, so he would do so.

“Wandering stars are much harder to observe than regular stars.”

“I figured.”

Lee Han replied in a resigned voice.

If it was easier than regular stars, Mad Clone wouldn’t have told him to do it.

“But you can foresee more destructive and irregular futures. Many diviners in history who made a name for themselves excelled at astrology with wandering stars. Sometimes, they predicted futures others could not.”

Lee Han wanted to ask how many had made contracts with the guest star Arna, but held back.

Hearing the answer would only depress him.

“If you, junior, learn to read omens from the movements of wandering stars, you’ll be able to avoid many disasters in the future.”

“Even things like Master’s approaches?”

“As I said, it’s hard to predict diviners better than yourself.”

The senior was as rational as a golem. They wouldn’t lie just to be nice.

“Go on. Grab an observation artifact and find any trace of a wandering star. Otherwise, who knows what the headmaster will do.”

Good diviners didn’t rely just on magic.

The Brass Golem senior predicted the future without even casting a spell.

Of course, this wasn’t much help to Lee Han.

‘I miss senior Direte…’

How could a senior sell out a junior to power like this?

Then again, it was Direte who was the unusual one, not the Brass Golem. How could any Einrogard student disobey the orders of the skeleton headmaster (or his clone)? Even Lee Han followed when told.

Lee Han dropped his complaints and grabbed the long, telescope-like artifact, -Star Guide-.

Thanks to King Yacha, he knew perfectly well how to use it.

It annoyed him to think that damn yacha might later brag that this was thanks to him.

‘Is this it.’

While adjusting the artifact, Lee Han discovered a star moving with a long tail.

Its movement and appearance set it apart from the nearby stars.

But just discovering the star didn’t mean he’d see the future immediately. Lee Han slowly observed without rushing.

‘Uh… I feel like I see something.’

The comet’s motion warped as if creating an illusion. Blinking, Lee Han realized the comet itself hadn’t changed at all.

Only his own perspective had.

He must have glimpsed a fragment of prophecy just now.

‘…So this is it? Not as hard as I thought.’

Contracting with a star was far more difficult.

He’d wandered among countless stars, searching for one willing to make a contract.

After barely finding the guest star Arna, that wasn’t the end either.

Until the contract was fully formed, he had to accept Arna’s blazing power.

Had it not been for his mana, Lee Han might have burned up as well.

Compared to that, foretelling the future through astrology was much easier.

Just find a star, watch its movement, and wait for the vision to appear.

‘I should try again.’

-&@$^(!*!&!
-$@%%$!

‘?’

Noises could be heard in the distance.

There was no way such noise would break the silence of the star-filled, dark sea—it must have been classroom noise.

Lee Han stopped focusing and switched off the artifact, then looked behind him.

“What happened?”

Fwoosh!

“Waaah! Rebound! Rebound!”

“Told you not to stare at burning stars too much!”

“……”

One of the seniors was ablaze, cursed by a star.

Divination was, by nature, a magic with violent backlash, and borrowing the power of the stars never erased it completely.

If you let your guard down, this sort of thing could happen to you.

The Brass Golem senior put out the junior’s fire and said,

“Told you to be transformed into a Flame Maw this month.”

“But that’s too ugly…”

“Oh, junior. Did we disturb you?”

Catching Lee Han’s gaze, the golem senior inquired. Lee Han shook his head.

“I was just wondering what was going on.”

“Did you lose the trace because of it?”

“No, I didn’t.”

‘Haven’t found it yet, then.’

Taking Lee Han’s answer at face value, the Brass Golem took it as the trace still not being found.

It wasn’t strange.

Wandering stars were the hardest to find, and matching with one that resonated with your own spirit was even harder.

It never crossed their mind that the junior might already have contracted the strongest wandering star.

Unfortunately, when the junior had come to report with other professors before, the golem senior had run away from the workshop.

That day, because Professor Verdus had made Professor Paselete absolutely furious, the Brass Golem had no choice.

In truth, the junior had already moved past tracking traces; he was already seeing visions from observing star movements.

As Mad Clone said, it was only possible because he was loved by wandering stars.

“Oh, senior. What happens if you’re looking at a star for prophecy and get interrupted mid-vision?”

The question left the golem senior dumbfounded.

Reading the future from a star’s movement was a form of fortune-telling. If fortune-telling was broken off midway, what would happen?

If you were lucky, you simply wouldn’t get a result; if unlucky, you’d get hit with a rebound.

“That’s an odd question. Are you a third-year… Wait. You’re not. Sorry.”

“Enough chatter.”

“Sorry. Everyone, back to your places!”

About to explain, the golem senior hurried students to their seats at Mad Clone’s command.

Lee Han cocked his head.

‘So it’s not a big deal, huh.’

When he’d stopped earlier, nothing serious had happened. Lee Han grabbed the artifact again and sought the comet he’d found before.

As he focused his mind, a familiar vision slowly emerged.

-&$$$*^!
-$$@%%!

‘Now what?’

Once again, Lee Han was distracted by the classroom’s noise.

Beyond simple curiosity, as a mage he also started to wonder what various rebounds might occur when observing stars.

Wouldn’t it be best to know in advance, to be prepared?

As Lee Han turned off the artifact and got up, the distant comet blinked faintly.

Surely it was just coincidence, but that blink held a strangely dissatisfied feeling.

• * *

“…Did you find any traces?”

As class wound down, the Brass Golem senior pulled a fallen student to their feet (having unfortunately foreseen their own failure to graduate) and walked over to Lee Han.

“Yes.”

“Great! …Wait. What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

The golem senior realized the junior wore a very serious expression.

He was staring intently at a doodle on a piece of paper.

“What’s this? You didn’t draw a star’s trace, did you?”

“I just sketched out the future I saw.”

“……”

As the senior squinted at the doodle, Lee Han explained,

“I just drew it simply. If you give me some time, it’d come out a lot better.”

“Let’s just use magic… Draw what you want!”

Sprinkling black powder and chanting, the powder spread across the blank page, composing a picture.

The content was truly shocking.

In the image, the human-form skeleton headmaster and Lee Han were facing off.

“…….”

So shocked, the brass golem senior didn’t even notice that Lee Han had not only found a wandering star, but had also glimpsed the future.

Under other circumstances, this would have been an enormous discovery—but the image before them took precedence.

What the heck…

“Is that really the headmaster, or just a clone?”

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it… Hm. Maybe not.”

The golem senior understood Lee Han’s point.

If you saw a future where you died, the reason mattered—not whether it was a sword from the imperial west or the east.

“When I tried divining again, the star wouldn’t show me anything else.”

“Stellar fortune-telling doesn’t show the future at the mage’s whim but the star’s. It’s one of the more passive types of divination… Wait, you mean you found a star and saw a future?!”

“Senior, is that what really matters right now?”

“…I guess not.”

The golem senior was indignant, but couldn’t object.

Really, what would matter in the face of a picture like this? They could ignore even an earthquake in the workshop.

“Senior. Please help me.”

“M-me? What can I do…? If I fought the headmaster, I’d turn into a brass ingot from a single finger poke.”

“…I’m not asking you to fight for me. I mean, please give me advice—like last time—on how to change the future.”

Lee Han was serious.

In fact, he wasn’t as shocked as the golem senior.

There were actually a number of possibilities in that picture.

Maybe if Lee Han kept investing himself in pointless Einrogard tests, Mad Clone would lose patience and attack until he learned magic…

It had happened before, so the degree of shock naturally varied. For the golem senior it was still a tremendous shock.

‘To see a future like that and not go mad—is this what it means to be a genius?’

To stay this calm after seeing a future that would have had them running, screaming, “THE END IS NIGH!!”…

Perhaps, by taking classes across every discipline, Lee Han had already gone insane. The golem senior nodded firmly with new resolve.

“Yes, you’re right! There’s no use trembling in fear.”

“I’ll be sure to follow your advice this time. Even if I have to avoid every noble…”

Lee Han was ready to swing his staff at any approaching noble this time.

“No. That won’t work this time.”

“Huh? Why not?”

“This is a much stronger and clearer future than before. You can’t alter stuff like this with just a few taboos.”

Noticing Lee Han’s darkened expression, the golem senior continued.

“But, it’s not hopeless. A true diviner relies not on magic, but on wisdom. The answer is in the future you saw, junior.”

“!”

“Look, here.”

The golem senior pointed to the upper right corner of the drawing.

A strange starlight shone down onto Lee Han’s head.

“Such a symbol can be interpreted in two ways. Either you contract a star and stand your ground against the headmaster, or you’ve fallen into the star’s trap. The former’s unlikely, so it’s probably the latter. So you must be careful not to—”

“…That’s actually the star I made a contract with.”