Chapter 85. This makes money
For a moment, silence settled over the stone chamber.
I was observing Senior Riheim’s core, and Senior Riheim waited for me.
Naturally, the one to break the silence first was me.
“Senior.”
“Speak.”
“Could it be… a lich?”
“…?”
I half-lidded my eyes and stared straight at him.
An emaciated, hollowed-out look. Dark circles under the eyes. He’d clearly tried to tidy himself up, but his hair was dry and dull, all sheen gone.
So if you only went by appearances, you could’ve called him a fresh lich that hadn’t been dead for long, and it would fit—
“He’s not a lich.”
There was breathing.
If you’re undead, you shouldn’t be breathing, but even if faintly, his breath was continuing.
“Then what is it?”
I couldn’t understand it at all.
A core split into two.
Yeah, even if a core shattered, it didn’t necessarily mean you had to die.
People say a mage’s core is like a heart, but it isn’t literally a heart. It just means the mage’s life, as a mage, ends.
Yeah.
‘Your life as a mage ends.’
But how?
“I applied barrier principles. If I explain the underlying principle, I can explain it, but….”
Maybe my stare was burdensome. Senior Riheim spoke gently.
I watched him for a moment, then shook my head slightly.
“It’s fine.”
“…You look very curious.”
“It’s not something I’d understand just by hearing it. You handled it well on your own, didn’t you?”
“That’s true, but….”
Maybe he’d actually wanted to explain the principle. The way he trailed off, he looked oddly reluctant.
But my mind didn’t change.
‘Barrier magic is… a headache.’
Barrier magic ran on a different track from ordinary magic. It’s like the principle itself is different.
Like how a turtle and a rabbit are both in the category of “animals,” but you can’t say they’re the same—starting from the principle, it’s different.
Especially…
A mage who has reached transcendence (超越) interprets the same thing from a completely different perspective.
“But it doesn’t seem perfect.”
“That’s right. With basic magic, maybe, but using advanced magic puts a strain on it. So….”
“You’re receiving help from the magic circles.”
“That’s right.”
I glanced around the stone chamber once and nodded.
‘So that bizarrely clumped-together mana was because of that.’
It was supplying the magic power needed to maintain the barrier, while also replacing the function of a core split in half.
‘Hmm. So that’s how it is.’
Originally, I’m a Troubleshooter. I’m not greedy. The kind of person who can hold everything even if I own nothing.
But I can smell it.
‘A magic circle that supports a core….’
This is quite rare. No, not “quite.”
Leaving practicality aside, it’s the kind of research topic that would make mages’ eyes light up and charge headfirst.
And as I was stoking that greed—no, that curiosity.
“You want it?”
“…No?”
At Senior Riheim’s question that hit dead center, my answer jumped out on reflex.
But Senior Riheim looked at me with a generous smile like he already knew.
He just looked.
“……”
“…Ahem, hmm.”
As awkward silence spread, a quiet voice sank into the stone chamber.
“It’s a magic circle I made myself.”
A premium.
There are several Archmages in an era, but Muspellun is only one in history.
“If I use it myself, it takes no small amount of work, but… assuming someone with an intact core uses it, it can be simplified.”
Research topic? No. Its practicality is high, too.
“Of course, I haven’t researched it that far yet, but if you want it, I can do it as much as you like.”
“…….”
“Who knows? You might even be able to apply it to an Artifact. Ah—beyond simply storing mana like a core, you can also grant attributes. Well, that part needs more research… but I think it might be possible.”
Gulp.
Saliva slid down on its own.
‘…Tch.’
At first, it was a simple thought.
Just—what if, someday, the library had a magic circle like this?
Henji and Parun’s curriculum, and the books I’d later squeeze out of Chenbi—those would all be valuable too, but either way, the more good books a library has, the better.
But I could smell it.
‘This… makes money.’
Think about it.
An Artifact made by Muspellun.
Of course, it’s not that Muspellun actually made it. You’re just borrowing the knowledge.
But that’s what a trademark is. A brand.
‘No, I don’t even have to use the Muspellun brand.’
An Artifact that supports a core.
It stores mana, and even grants attributes. In other words, another core, you could say? So…
A charger.
But.
“…Ggh.”
Senior Riheim was smiling as he looked at me.
Along with the smell of money… there’s a smell. A feeling-like-a-feeling that he’s going to hand me something annoying to do.
As my 고민 dragged on, Senior Riheim cut into that train of thought.
“You want it, don’t you?”
“Can I use it however I want?”
“For example?”
“Wealth and glory (富貴榮華).”
“You’re saying you’ll make money. I understand. What mage hates money?”
That’s right. Mages all like money.
Me, I learned with tricks and only use magic to beat people up, but other mages spend a lot on research and whatnot.
So I threw one more line.
“I’ll live in luxury.”
“Luxury?”
“Yes. Alcohol and gambling. I’ll set out delicacies from mountains and seas at every meal, eat just one bite of each, and throw the rest away.”
“How modest.”
“…….”
Modest? That’s my idea of maximum luxury. Is that what it means to be royalty? Even that is “modest.”
‘Then….’
I tried thinking of a luxury that would surpass it. I tried, but…
‘Damn it.’
Nothing came to mind.
The guy who’s used money spends it well—how would I know if I’ve never had it. That was it.
Thinking like that suddenly made it feel pathetic.
Originally, I’m not that modest, but I never had the chance to become depraved, so I was forcibly turned into a modest person. Even if I became a Great Sage and had hundreds of millions, it would probably be the same. Habits don’t disappear.
Anyway.
“Hoo. Fine.”
I let out a deep sigh.
“What are you trying to 부탁 me for?”
“A 부탁? I’m not sure what you mean. I simply want to give a gift to my junior, as a senior.”
“…….”
Gulp.
I barely swallowed the “bull—” that was about to spring out of my throat.
If the one in front of me were Senior Headmaster, I wouldn’t be saying “bull—,” I’d be asking if he’d gone senile, but the other guy is the other guy.
‘A gift? What gift.’
If this was a magic circle of this caliber, it wasn’t knowledge light enough to be traded back and forth under the word “gift.”
Think about it.
‘Core support. No—more accurately, it’s like an external core is being created.’
An external core.
How many attempts in the history of magic had been made to create that?
All failures.
‘Even the “golem core” was only a failed offshoot of research meant to create an external core.’
But the impact golems had on the continent’s history was enormous.
No—more accurately…
War (戰爭).
They changed its very landscape.
And yet he’s saying he’ll hand over that knowledge? To a layabout who says he’ll indulge in wealth and luxury and pleasure?
“Hah. Forget it.”
“Are you sure? If you want it, I can pass it on.”
“I don’t need the magic circle. If you’ve got something to ask, just say it. I’ll listen.”
“You really are… of upright character.”
At that deep gaze, I awkwardly looked up at the ceiling.
‘…Damn it.’
Senior Riheim called it a “gift to a junior,” but really, it was a transaction. He intended to ask me for something in exchange for the magic circle.
But, strictly speaking, what Senior Riheim put on the table wasn’t “a magic circle.”
In other words… yeah.
What Senior Riheim was putting up was, quite literally, conviction.
A person who doesn’t spare even his own life for a complete stranger… is wishing for something while even discarding his conviction.
I may be a guy with no business ethics, but even I pick who I swindle.
In the short time I’d seen him, Senior Riheim was a mage worthy of respect, past aside.
So how could I…
‘…Buy conviction. Tch.’
“Are you really fine not taking the magic circle?”
Of course I’m not fine.
But.
“Think of it as a gift from a distant junior to a senior.”
Isn’t that the affection between seniors and juniors? Even if we’re not tied by school or hometown, we’re still using senior-junior titles.
“Then I’ll give you a gift as well.”
“I said I don’t need the magic circle.”
“It isn’t a magic circle. Perhaps… it’s something you need even more than a magic circle.”
“…?”
Originally, what I need is, first, books.
It isn’t easy to gather enough books to fill a tower. And after that, you could say what I need is land and money.
But there’s no way Senior Riheim would know any of that.
“It’s nothing special. Just advice I can give as someone who walked the road ahead.”
Senior Riheim looked at me with sunken eyes.
Unlike before, a sharp, blazing light flashed within his gaze.
Oberon’s master. And, unexpectedly, a good mage. A completely new facet that couldn’t be explained by any definition.
This was… yeah.
‘Someone who walked the road ahead.’
A senior in the truest sense.
A gaze from someone who had walked ahead on the long road called magic, across a vast world. In other words…
An Archmage.
Advice from an Archmage at the peak, to a junior mage following behind.
“The wall of transcendence (超越).”
The moment I met Senior Riheim’s eyes, I knew he could see straight through me.
“I’ll tell you how to cross that wall. Will you listen?”
Hah, seriously.
He let me observe his insides so easily… so it wasn’t only me who’d been looking inside.
Of course, my answer was…
“I’ll listen closely.”
It was already decided.
“First, I’ll ask. If my judgment is correct, you’re blocked by the wall of transcendence right now. Am I right?”
“You are.”
I accepted it readily.
I didn’t know how Senior Riheim had noticed my state, but at least that diagnosis was accurate.
‘The wall of transcendence… no, it’s the wall of wailing.’
An unbreakable iron fortress no matter what you did. One step, just one step, and it’s the realm of transcendence—yet that one step stood blocked.
“I imagine you’ve struggled with it a lot, but what do you think the reason is?”
“The reason is….”
“I mean the reason you can’t break through the wall of transcendence.”
“…….”
With my arms crossed, I sank into thought.
‘Why couldn’t I break through?’
Finding the answer wasn’t difficult. And it was pretty simple.
In a way, it was similar to why, in this life, I learned the Thousand Origin Art and craved Deculan’s secret arts like Scarlet Flame.
The essence was to catch Paharen von Deculan, but I believed Deculan’s secret arts held something I lacked.
That was…
“Basics.”
“Basics?”
“I can’t explain in detail, but… the path I learned magic through was fairly… unconventional.”
In other words, a trick?
I didn’t polish fundamentals like the bloodlines of famous houses (名家), and I just picked up and learned whatever I needed, as needed.
I didn’t even pursue only magic.
If I needed it, I referenced not just knights’ secret arts, but all sorts of other secret arts too.
But why?
“That isn’t the answer.”
“…?”
Senior Riheim looked at me with sunken eyes.
“Before you reached the wall of transcendence… fundamentals could have been the issue. But not now. What do you think transcendence (超越) is?”
“Transcendence is….”
“As the word says, it means surpassing a certain limit. Then how do you surpass that limit?”
“Well….”
I thought carefully.
To surpass a limit, what should you do?
“Answer honestly. Depending on your answer, the advice I give you will change.”
“Hmm.”
Honestly… First, think.
Not crossing the wall of transcendence—just simply surpassing a limit. What method would I choose?
The answer was simple.
“I’d crash into it.”
“Crash into it?”
“Yes. I think I’d crash into it with everything I’ve got. Until I die.”
“And if you still can’t surpass it?”
If even then it doesn’t work? Then what choice is there.
“Then I still crash into it. Empty everything out until I don’t even have the nerve to crash into it again, and keep crashing into it. That’s it.”
“Hmm. Is that so?”
Senior Riheim watched me quietly, then raised his brows slightly and asked.
“Have you ever done that?”
“Of course I—”
Right as I was about to say, ‘…have.’
My words choked off.
Had I really ever emptied everything out?
Of course I had. When I was a street rat in the Black and White Zone, when I was a Troubleshooter trainee, until I was given a numbering in No. 1. Even until I rose to Single Number.
I always emptied everything out.
‘…Because I had to, to survive.’
But after that?
After that…
“It isn’t that you haven’t. However….”
“…It’s rare.”
“I understand. For a mage of your level to empty everything out… there aren’t many opponents who could force that.”
At this point, I could understand what he meant.
In the end, empty, empty, and empty again, and drive yourself to the limit. Literally, with all your might, push yourself.
Of course…
‘It won’t work in one go.’
But that was the method.
“Judging by your expression, I think you understand.”
“…Yes.”
I don’t know if I understood it correctly, but this had never been a conversation with a single correct answer. Only what I felt could be the answer.
“My advice isn’t necessarily right. I only… threw out something that might help, based on my own experience.”
A considerate voice.
He was worried his goodwill might become another kind of pressure.
So I smiled, for once.
“It’s enough.”
“Good. Then….”
As if returning my smile, Senior Riheim smiled back and continued.
“Now, is it my turn to receive a gift from my junior? No—should I say I’m making a request?”
“Does it matter which?”
What mattered was that what we each held toward the other was sincere. The wrapping didn’t matter at all.
