Chapter 38: The Eccentric Mage of Popenini Hill

“There is one decent mage who isn’t well-known.”

“Who is it?”

“It’s that eccentric mage living in the last house on this hill. They call him Stan Demonic. He lives with his younger sister, whom he cherishes dearly.

He’s a good-natured young man who doesn’t bother his neighbors, yet he’s incredibly cantankerous towards visitors. Then again, most visitors are usually just wealthy and rude, so perhaps that’s why.

His personality might be a bit rough, but if he accepts someone as a disciple, there’s no better teacher. As far as I know, he’s risen to the ranks of an Archmage, though he insists he’s only a 6th-class mage.”

“Ah, then to him—”

“But he despises slaves.”

At those words, Renki, who had been fidgeting like a puppy needing to relieve itself, slumped his shoulders. Hay suppressed a sigh.

It was common for people to despise slaves, so Hay decided to let it be.

“Even so, I’ll go and see him. You said the last house on the hill, right?”

“Are you truly going to try? He won’t accept you, you know.”

“If not, I’ll just find the least thuggish among the thugs.”

“Very well, do as you please. With luck, you might secure a contract. Oh, I owe you the rest of the payment! Please wait a moment.”

This time, Venter finally went into the back room and returned with the money.

“Let’s see, do I owe you 150 gold in change?”

He handed over three bundles of gold coins, each tied in stacks of fifty.

“So, when should I come to collect the staff?”

“It won’t take long. A week at most? Would you sign this production request form?”

He pulled out two sheets of paper, hastily scribbled the details of the production request with a quill, and then placed the two sheets side-by-side.

After writing names on both and signing the adjacent papers, he handed one sheet to Hay.

“Just bring that when you come to pick it up.”

“Thank you.”

“If Demonic rejects you, come back. I’ll point you to some thugs, at least.”

The two of them, accompanied by Renki, left the ‘Glittering Magic Shop’ after Venter’s farewell. Renki looked somewhat dazed.

“You said it was on the hill?”

Hay turned his head and looked up at Popenini Hill. The slope wasn’t steep, but it was quite long.

At its summit, a single house and a small grove of trees were visible.

“That must be it.”

As he was about to lead the way, Renki suddenly clutched his clothes.

“Master.”

“Yes?”

“Are you truly planning to teach me magic?”

“Uh, yes, I am.”

Through the two eye-slits of his mask, green eyes flickered with unease. He seemed both overwhelmed and disbelieving.

‘Indeed, what master would readily teach a s*ave magic? It wasn’t a matter of a small sum of money.’

“Are you trying to turn me into a hunting dog?”

“A hunting dog?”

Hay frowned.

That wasn’t his intention, but it wasn’t unreasonable for Renki to think so. Hay’s desire to teach Renki wasn’t merely a scheme to raise and exploit him.

Since he had decided to free him in ten years, he simply wanted to provide Renki with the means to support himself once he was independent.

Having brought him along, Hay felt responsible for at least that much.

More importantly, Hay never expected Renki to establish himself as a mage within ten years enough for Hay to ‘use’ him.

‘It would be fortunate if he could merely protect himself.’

“Why? Do you perhaps not want to learn magic?”

“Ah, no!”

Renki shook his head vigorously. Then, he abruptly grabbed Hay’s arm, his eyes serious and resolute.

“I will certainly become a magnificent hunting dog that lives up to my master’s expectations!”

“I don’t need a hunting dog. I believe I mentioned that before?”

“Even so, I’ll become an Archmage for you, Master!”

“Uh, yes. Do your best.”

‘An Archmage, he says. It seems like a lofty goal, but there’s no harm in it. They say to dream big, after all.’

Renki’s eyes sparkled with excitement. If he had a tail, Hay imagined it would be wagging furiously, as if motor-powered.

“First, let’s go see this esteemed mage who will be your master.”

“Yes!”

Renki nodded energetically.

By the time they reached the top of the hill, Hay was a little breathless. The last house on the hill, as Venter had described, was a wooden building nestled against a small forest.

“Saila, big brother made this cosmetic. He said to give it to you as thanks for looking after me while he was away on business.”

Hay turned his gaze towards the source of the voice. At the edge of the hill stood an inn.

‘An inn in a place like this? Isn’t the location terrible for business?’

“Oh, you didn’t have to bring all this! It’s only natural for neighbors to help each other. But what is this? It smells wonderful! Is it a perfume you apply?”

A light-brown-haired woman, wearing an apron, exclaimed with a flutter. Her face was radiant with delight. She appeared to be the innkeeper, as the sign read ‘Saila Inn’.

“No, it’s a hand moisturizer. Your hands often get chapped, don’t they? I felt sorry that your beautiful hands were chapped, so I asked him to make this. It also has a bit of healing potion mixed in, so they’ll get better quickly.”

“Was that explosion this morning because he was making this?”

“Ah, no, that was just that idiot causing trouble with one of his strange experiments.”

The person giving the gift to Saila was a scarlet-haired girl in a wheelchair.

It was remarkable how her wheelchair managed to stay put on the slope without brakes. Then, he noticed magic stones embedded in its armrests, indicating it used a magical power device.

It was a product of magical engineering, rarely seen in this land.

‘Is it because this is the capital? I’m seeing all sorts of peculiar things.’

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.”

Hay subtly surveyed the inn’s exterior.

It looked clean on the outside. Despite its location, it didn’t seem to lack customers.

If he managed to secure a training contract with this mage, moving to this inn wouldn’t be a bad idea.

It was right at their doorstep, after all.

As they approached the house’s front door, it opened before they could even knock. No one was visible beyond the threshold.

It was pitch black, as if it were the entrance to some dungeon. Renki, startled, subtly hid behind Hay’s back.

It was only because it was midday; at night, it would likely be quite eerie. Hay glanced back at Renki before stepping inside the house.

“Excuse me.”

“Peep—!”

“Ah, you startled me.”

Sylph, who had been clinging to his back, flapped its wings. Hay had forgotten it was still summoned, given its weightlessness.

“Um, Master, is it really okay for us to just go in?” Renki asked cautiously.

“The door opened for us, so I suppose we can, right?”

Renki clung tightly to Hay’s clothes from behind, making it uncomfortable to walk.

“It’s so dark in here. It feels like something might just jump out.”

“What? Ghosts? Are you afraid of ghosts?”

“N-not exactly.”

‘Not exactly, my foot. He’s definitely scared.’

Beyond the door, a corridor stretched out. The house had seemed small from the outside, but as if its space had been expanded like the ‘Glittering Magic Shop,’ the corridor was long.

Before they had taken more than a few steps, a door at the far end of the corridor creaked open. Flickering light spilled out.

Hay quietly approached.

Inside the room, all the curtains were drawn, and several candles illuminated the space.

Standing before a desk was a man with blood-red hair, the same color as the girl in the wheelchair they had seen outside.

He was concocting an unknown potion.

‘Could this be the mage Venter spoke of?’

For a mage, the man had a considerable physique. Large bottles looked like mere paper cups in his hands.

He seemed about half a span taller than Hay.

Due to his obviously sturdy build, he resembled a boxer more than a mage.

Feeling that he would somehow be compared if he stood next to him, Hay did not approach further.

‘Back in Han Tae-hyun’s prime, his body was much better than that.’

‘Perhaps I should exercise a bit during this break, kill two birds with one stone?’

“If you’re here, sign the contract first. Training begins in three days. As I said before, there are no refunds if you give up midway, so don’t complain later.”

That was all the man said.

‘He must have mistaken them for someone else.’

Without a reply, Hay looked at the paper on the desk. It was a magic training contract.

[ ‘Stan Demonic’ will instruct ‘Benjamin Yefisnon’ in magic for three months, starting on the twentieth day of Knotting Moon, in the 891st year of the Hayle Calendar. ]

Thus began the document.

It also stated that the 100 gold training fee was non-refundable under any circumstances, along with detailed curriculum information.

‘100 gold, indeed. That’s expensive.’

The three-month curriculum included: Magic Introduction, Mana Training Methods, three 1st-class level magic spells for trainee mages, Magic Research Methods, and basic Potion Manufacturing.

‘But ‘Yefisnon’?’

“Are you teaching a ducal heir? That’s impressive. To have even a high-ranking noble come for lessons.”

Hay genuinely admired him.

Venter had said he was an Archmage masquerading as a 6th-class mage, and perhaps that was true.

The surprised mage sharply turned to Hay.

His shaggy, wavy bangs, contrasting with his short-cropped sides, swayed dramatically.

“Who are you? How did you get in here?”

Stan Demonic asked fiercely.

‘How did I get in? You opened the door for me.’

Hay tore his gaze from the document and took a few steps towards him, extending a hand.

“Hay Styles. Glittering… no, I was referred by Mr. Venter. You are Stan Demonic, correct?”

Stan frowned.

He alternated glances between Hay, Hay’s outstretched hand, and Renki, who stood dumbfounded behind him.

Having assessed the situation with just those observations, Stan coldly turned back and resumed his potion concoction.

“Leave. I don’t teach slaves.”

He had expected an immediate outburst, given Stan’s dislike for slaves and eccentric nature, but was somewhat relieved by the surprisingly polite refusal. Perhaps he could try to persuade him.

“Renki, go outside for a moment. The adults need to talk.”

At Hay’s words, Renki looked between the two men, then nodded and exited.

“Sylph, follow him.”

“Peep—!”

Sylph, who had been clinging to Hay’s back, flapped its wings and followed Renki out. Seeing this, Stan narrowed his eyes.

“A Spirit User?”

“Yes. Does that change anything?”

“No. Do you have anything more to say? I’d prefer you leave. As I said, I don’t teach slaves.”

He spoke with a blunt tone.

Hay waited until he was certain Renki and Sylph’s presences had completely faded before turning back to Stan.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“The reason you don’t accept slaves as disciples.”

Stan grimaced. He transferred a small amount of liquid from one glass to another, swirling it in the air as if drawing a circle.

“I told you. I dislike slaves. Is this the first time you’ve met someone who dislikes slaves?”

“Do you perhaps dislike them because you consider them ‘beasts’ rather than people?”

At Hay’s question, Stan scoffed.

“It has nothing to do with rune effects. Though that’s certainly disgusting as well.”

Stan roughly set the glass down with a sharp clink. He seemed highly displeased discussing this topic.

“I simply dislike the very existence of slaves.”