Retire 369
by Cristae369 The Mages of Marseille (1)
Alain Richard was a mage.
And like most mages, he took pride in being one.
Whenever he mentioned this, Richard’s master would shake her head and lament the state of things.
‘This is why people have such a poor opinion of mages. All the young ones are missing something.’
He had plenty he wanted to say, but Richard swallowed every word that rose to the tip of his tongue. After all, his master was a far greater mage than he could ever hope to be, someone universally respected. And Richard had no wish to argue with her. No one respected his master more than Alain Richard did.
And in the end, he agreed with her to some extent. When young mages gathered, the topics of conversation were often things Richard couldn’t agree with.
‘I don’t care about dungeons.’
‘Everyone’s going on about runes these days, but how much can you trust Asian mages?’
‘Europe is the true home of magic.’
Insular communities tend to reject outside opinions. The ancient European mages looked down on the relatively young traditions of Asian magic. Richard couldn’t understand it.
Asian magic, European magic—wasn’t magic just magic?
How many Asian mages had made their mark in Europe? They could recite their family’s long history, but seemed to forget about mages who’d been active only fifty years ago.
A shield cast by an Asian mage is no different from one cast by a European. If the Asian mage is more skilled, their shield is stronger. In fact, it was Asian mages who were leading the latest magical theory. As for European magical academia—besides the Jewel of Nantes, was there anyone making real progress?
There wasn’t.
Richard’s master, Charlotte Mallet, made a peculiar face when she heard this.
“I’m not denying that child is a remarkable mage. But the way all of France, even Western Europe, seems to be clinging to her isn’t normal.”
“But she is amazing, isn’t she? The youngest archmage ever.”
“Does being the youngest matter?”
“She’s achieved so much…”
“Achievements? Just publishing magical theory? Foolish student. Before we are mages, we are human. Magic doesn’t solve everything. You must learn how to live as a person.”
Mallet clicked her tongue. The old woman picked up her coat from the rack with wrinkled hands. Richard hurried to her side and handed her her cane.
“You can’t do anything alone. The American mages know this well. Asian mages value working with Awakened, too.”
“…But we do that too, don’t we?”
“Is it really cooperation if you just cast a spell once when the guild asks, then leave? Tsk, do you think mages are safe if a dungeon breaks?”
Mallet tapped her cane on the floor, her whole body radiating displeasure. Richard, though he’d done nothing wrong, found himself watching his master’s mood.
Though she was his master, Mallet was only a distant relative. Almost a stranger, really.
After Richard lost his parents as a child, Mallet had taken him in. To him, Charlotte Mallet was not just a master, but a grandmother, a mother, his only family. No son in the world could withstand his mother’s disapproving gaze, no matter how old he grew.
“Alain, that’s why I told you to work with more guilds.”
And then, with a gentle laugh, Mallet softened, as if to show her anger wasn’t directed at him.
“Meet other mages at this conference.”
“Other mages… But you really mean just one, don’t you?”
“Yes. Fortunately, she replied that she’ll be attending.”
“Really?”
Richard’s eyes widened. He’d been worried, since there’d been no reply until the deadline, but apparently she had accepted.
Mallet nodded as she put on her hat.
“Yes. She usually works alone, but I hear she’s joined a guild.”
“A guild? You mean she started her own?”
“No. Someone else’s guild.”
“Really? An archmage?”
“Well, it’s not an ordinary guild.”
Mallet winked playfully.
“She joined Hong Seok-young’s guild.”
“…Hong Seok-young? Wasn’t that a one-person guild?”
“You’re behind the times, Alain. Not anymore. He even has a disciple now.”
“A disciple?!”
While Richard reeled, Mallet finished getting ready to go out.
She tapped her cane on the floor, her movements lively now.
“In any case, she’s a mage you can learn a lot from.”
“Well…”
“She’s often underestimated for her flashy magic and young age, but she’s the real thing. Alain, I trust you won’t do anything foolish.”
“Don’t worry, Grandmother!”
Richard bit his tongue.
They’d agreed not to use family terms in the workshop. It was a rare slip for him.
He braced for a scolding, but Mallet just shrugged. Richard blinked in surprise.
Charlotte Mallet, president of the European Grand Magic Conference, laughed cheerfully at her grandson.
If you asked about the reputation of Alain Richard, age thirty-one, it would be: “A mage who owes everything to his connections.”
At eleven, such judgments would have shaken him, but now Richard didn’t care.
…Well, he did care, but not as much as when he was a child. In the end, the most important thing for a mage is to believe in oneself.
And even if Richard didn’t believe in himself, so what? At least his master believed in him. For Richard, that was enough. If the president of the European Grand Magic Conference’s trust wasn’t important, that would be a problem in itself.
Mallet was busy with conference work from morning, and though Richard was her disciple, he didn’t work for the conference. He wandered awkwardly around the park near the hotel where the conference was being held. Marseille was already overflowing with mages. In just ten minutes of walking, Richard saw more than ten. Fortunately, none were familiar faces.
If he’d simply returned to the hotel, his day might have ended quietly and uneventfully.
But the day was still long.
“Ah!”
A sharp voice rang out somewhere. Then, a bright foreign tongue followed.
Hearing the unfamiliar language, Richard’s gaze drifted in that direction.
A woman of East Asian descent, wearing a wide-brimmed white hat, was waving energetically. Her skirt, patterned with yellow freesias, fluttered. On the other side, a tall man approached, carrying a cup of coffee.
The two spoke in a language Richard couldn’t understand. Tourists, perhaps? But Richard knew better. He might not know the man, but he certainly recognized the woman.
The mage his master had personally invited.
An archmage from Asia—specifically, the Rose Mage from Korea, Kim Chaemin.
Richard guessed, with some pride, that their language was Korean. He couldn’t understand, but figured there was no harm in listening. Still, he had to admit to himself that he was eavesdropping.
A mage with pride does not stoop to such cowardice.
Instead of turning away and heading back to the hotel, Richard approached them.
“Hello.”
Only after greeting them did he wonder if they spoke French.
Fortunately, Kim Chaemin smiled at him.
“Hello.”
Her French was fluent. Richard’s face brightened.
“Ah, excuse me. I’m Alain Richard, disciple of Charlotte Mallet, president of the conference. I happened to see you and wanted to say hello. I’ve heard so much about you from my master. I deeply respect you, Archmage Kim.”
“Oh my, you’re the president’s disciple? Just call me Chaemin.”
“I hope I’m not disturbing your break… But I really wanted to greet you.”
“No, it’s fine.”
Kim Chaemin smiled brightly and gestured to her companion.
“This is my colleague, Woo Heejae. He was on business in Toulon, and our schedules overlapped…”
Richard looked at the man when he heard the word “colleague.” He was a head taller than Richard, with a sturdy build beneath his suit. He didn’t look like a mage. So then…
Richard recalled his conversation with his master. A man introduced as a colleague by an archmage. He had some suspicions, but confirming them was another matter.
“By colleague, do you mean… perhaps…”
“Oh, come on. The rumor’s already out?”
“There was last year’s forum, so maybe word spread here too.”
The man spoke fluent French as well.
He glanced at Richard and introduced himself.
“I’m Woo Heejae. I work in the same guild as Archmage Kim.”
“How boring. You know Hunter Hong Seok-young, right? Of course you do. He’s his disciple and the guild’s vice-master.”
“How many people are in the guild, anyway…”
“Still, it’s true.”
The two bickered back and forth in front of Richard. He could only imitate his master’s smile and laugh awkwardly.
Alain Richard had just narrowly avoided a crisis—by greeting the mage from Korea.
To understand why, we need to rewind a bit and see what Kim Chaemin and Woo Heejae were talking about.
“Ms. Kim.”
“Yes?”
“Raise your head slowly. Don’t make it obvious. Do you see the man by the right-hand fountain, next to the bench? The one in navy?”
“…Yes, I see him.”
“He’s been watching you for a while. Do you know him?”
“Hmm, I don’t think so. But he seems like a mage.”
“If he’s a mage you don’t know, he can’t be that impressive.”
“You never know. What should we do?”
“I really don’t like people who spy on others…”
At just the right moment, Richard approached and spoke to them.
“See you again.”
“I’ll be sure to try that restaurant you recommended.”
Kim Chaemin waved goodbye with a smile. Richard, touching his reddened earlobe, walked off across the park.
Only after Richard’s presence had completely faded did Woo Heejae switch from French to Korean.
“He’s the conference president’s disciple?”
“According to our friend, the president isn’t exactly a fan.”
“Let’s not call that guy a friend. It makes me uncomfortable.”
“So picky.”
Kim Chaemin stretched and yawned.
“I wonder if the president and her disciple share the same opinions.”
“But he’s clearly favorably disposed toward you.”
“Well… We’ll know for sure when our notorious mage friend shows up. Still, it was good timing. Now that I’ve called you a colleague, he’ll surely tell his master, right?”
Woo Heejae didn’t look thrilled.
“And then he’ll invite his colleague to see the conference… Who wants to see a mage conference, anyway?”
“You came all this way just to wander around the park?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then stop grumbling and come on. Don’t act like a kid.”
“All right, all right. Just saying.”
Woo Heejae glanced toward the hotel where the conference was being held.
The European Grand Magic Conference. Two days earlier.