Chapter 42: The Archmage’s Secret

“Words come easily.”

Stan snorted dismissively.

“Mr. Venter already tested his mana sensitivity, so there should be no issues with his Mana Road.”

His Mana Road.

The Mana Road refers to the path through which mana flows within the body, much like blood circulates through veins. Without it, one could never hope to learn abilities such as aura, magic, or spirit arts.

“Seeing as you’ve come to learn magic, I presume you can read and write Materian? What about arithmetic? How to calculate?”

“I’ve taught him both.”

“Is that so? Then I won’t need to teach him those separately. Go on, give it your best effort. Once I commit to a lesson, I never teach half-heartedly, no matter how much I dislike the student. Be warned, though: if you don’t perform properly, you’ll be cursed at and kicked in the backside. Be ready for that.”

“Yes, I’ll work hard.”

Renki, visibly tense from his words, hunched his shoulders and replied in a meek, almost inaudible voice.

“But is there a reason you only teach 1st Class?”

“Anything beyond that takes too long and is bothersome. Why? Are you planning to ask me to teach you 2nd Class later?”

“No, I was just curious. In any case, we have to leave in three months, so even if we wanted to learn 2nd Class here, we wouldn’t be able to.”

As if confirming the tea was ready, Stan gracefully waved his hand in the air. Immediately, a teapot and three teacups slid onto the round table.

Though Hey hadn’t seen Stan boil any water, hot steam surprisingly billowed from the teapot’s spout. It seemed he had heated it with magic.

“Do you know the five ranks of mages?”

Stan asked. He ran a hand over his face before settling onto a chair in front of the round table.

“Of course.”

“I wasn’t asking you.”

As Hey answered, Stan shook his head, turning his gaze to Renki. Hey, too, shifted his eyes towards Renki, who, seemingly flustered, merely gaped.

“Ah, I, well, that is…”

Seeing his hesitation, it seemed Renki was probably sweating profusely behind his mask. Concluding that Renki didn’t know, Stan sighed and spoke.

“What? Even a snot-nosed kid on the street knows about mage ranks. Surely you don’t?”

Stan’s voice was laced with incredulity. Renki’s neck retracted so far it seemed it couldn’t possibly shrink any further.

As if nursing a headache, Stan squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his temples with his fingertips before speaking.

“The five ranks of mages are—”

The moment Stan began, Renki interrupted him, cutting off his words.

“Apprentice Mage, Journeyman Mage, Professional Mage, Archmage, and Sage.”

As if his earlier timidity had never existed, his voice was remarkably clear and decisive.

“And what classes correspond to each rank?”

“Apprentice Mages can learn up to 2nd Class. Journeyman Mages are 3rd Class. Professional Mages range from 4th to 7th Class. Archmages are 8th and 9th Class. And Sages begin from 10th Class.”

“If you knew, why did you stammer?”

“He was just nervous. It’s common knowledge; he couldn’t possibly not know.”

Hey stepped forward to defend Renki. Stan, without a word, glared at Hey, his eyes conveying a clear message: *Don’t interfere.*

“Enough. Let’s just draw up the contract first.”

Stan raised his hand into the air, then curled his fingers inward, from his pinky to his index finger.

By his magic, papers, a quill, and ink flew from the desk and settled onto the table.

Stan picked up the quill, dipped its nib into the ink, and neatly wrote ‘Magic Instruction Contract’ at the top of the paper.

The contents were identical to the instruction contract of Duke Benjamin Yefisnon that Hey had seen yesterday.

That was the crucial part.

Below it, the instruction fees and the areas he would teach were listed in order. These, too, were exactly as seen in Duke Benjamin Yefisnon’s contract.

“If you successfully complete 1st Class within three months, I’ll teach you how to self-study 2nd Class. However, if you fail to properly master 1st Class, there’ll be no point in telling you the method, so I won’t. 2nd Class is relatively easy; if you know the proper methods, you can complete it on your own in as little as a year. If it takes you more than two years, it means you’re terribly inept at magic, and it would be better for you to seek a different path. For 3rd Class and beyond, you’ll need a master, but you can figure that out yourselves later.”

Perhaps due to fatigue, Stan was neither arrogant nor frivolous as he had been yesterday. His expression was flat, and his voice monotonous, making him appear remarkably calm.

What pleased Hey most was that Stan’s words and demeanor felt more trustworthy than other instruction centers that only talked about money.

It seemed there was a reason the owner of the magic shop Sylph had found had recommended him.

Stan continued speaking.

“Honestly, as you both know, even just 2nd or 3rd Class is enough to make a living in the Eastern Continent. In fact, many Apprentice Mages use water magic to work as firefighters. Others utilize earth or fire magic to become blacksmiths. Unless you aim to be a ‘hunting dog,’ simply being an Apprentice or Journeyman Mage is enough to get by.”

He said this while looking at Renki. Hey, however, realized that the words were directed at him, not Renki. It was then that he understood.

‘I merely dislike the existence of slaves themselves.’

Perhaps what Stan truly disliked wasn’t ‘slaves’ but ‘masters’.

Hey stared intently at Stan’s face. Sensing the gaze, Stan met Hey’s eyes, and his brow furrowed immediately.

“What? What are you looking at?”

“I just thought you seemed unusually kind today.”

Hey shrugged, speaking as if it held no particular meaning. Stan’s lips twitched.

“I’m fundamentally a kind person. It’s just that I act like a complete bastard towards people I dislike.”

At his suddenly arrogant and obnoxious demeanor, Hey let out a small chuckle, a corner of his mouth curving upward.

In any case, it was Renki, not Hey, who would be spending half the day with Stan, receiving his instruction.

Once this instruction contract concluded, unless something extraordinary happened, they wouldn’t have much reason to see each other.

“Before we sign, let’s verify your identities. Both of you, take out your ID tags.”

Hey took out his mercenary tag. Renki, too, fumbled in his pocket and placed his ID tag on the table. With a tap of a finger, each tag displayed their respective histories.

“You’re an A-rank mercenary?”

“Ah, yes.”

Although he was now S-rank, his mercenary tag still showed his previous history because he hadn’t updated it yet.

“Your Spirit User rank shows as lowest-grade, though? Renki told Lorelai you were mid-low grade.”

Hey glanced at Renki, who quickly avoided his gaze. ‘And he said he hadn’t mentioned anything.’

“My rank increased recently. We only arrived in the capital yesterday, so I haven’t had time to get it updated. I was planning to do it this week anyway.”

“Ah, so you renewed it but didn’t update the mercenary tag. Issuing or updating mercenary tags is only possible in major cities, after all.”

Hey briefly glanced at Renki’s ID tag, though he had seen it several times before. The information inscribed on it was exceptionally simple.

[Servant Renki.

Born on the nineteenth day of the Sun-Rise Month, 879th year of the Hale Calendar.

Master, Hay Styles.]

That was the entirety of the record on Renki’s ID tag.

This was because slaves, being considered ‘beasts,’ were not granted surnames or nationalities. Even if they had them, they would be erased.

“Alright, sign it.”

Stan handed the ‘Magic Instruction Contract’ to the two of them.

Hey picked up the quill from the ink bottle. He tapped the nib against the bottle’s mouth to shake off excess ink, then wrote his name and signature in the designated field before handing it to Renki.

“I’m telling you in advance, there’s one thing you must remember.”

This was just as Hey was taking two bundles of 50 gold coins from his pouch and placing them on the table.

“If you fail to properly complete 1st Class, do not go around claiming to be my disciple.”

“Indeed, it would be infuriating if someone went around boasting they were an Archmage’s disciple with only 1st Class under their belt.”

“Rather than that, it’s more about being called a master after only teaching 1st Class—”

Stan abruptly stopped speaking. He froze like a broken machine, and then, slowly, his face began to contort.

“Mr. Venter must have told you.”

He let out a deep sigh, running both hands over his face. He looked utterly worn and exhausted.

“That you’re an Archmage?”

“Wow, are you really an Archmage?”

Renki, who had been quietly listening to the adults’ conversation with astute awareness, finished signing and his eyes gleamed. Hey added.

“It seems to be a secret, but don’t worry. Neither of us has anywhere to go boast about it, even if we wanted to.”

Hey took the quill from Renki’s hand, returned it to the ink bottle, and handed the contract and money back to Stan.

“Is the instruction contract finished now?”

Suddenly, a clear voice resounded from the doorway.

Lorelai stood at the wide-open door of the potion manufacturing room. Renki rose from his seat and bowed politely in greeting.

Lorelai smiled sweetly at Renki. Hey simply gave a slight nod in return.

“Oh, the contract’s done. I was just about to send them off.”

Stan said to Lorelai. He blew gently on the still-damp contract to dry the ink.

“Already? The teacups are still full. Why don’t you stay and talk a bit longer?”

“Ah, we—”

Hey tried to decline, but Lorelai had already settled into a seat at the table.

“Was my brother being kind today? I scolded him a bit yesterday because I thought he was rude when he visited. How was he?”

‘So he was well-behaved because his younger sister had scolded him?’

“He certainly was rude yesterday. He even illegally trespassed into our inn room.”

“What? Illegal trespassing?”

Lorelai’s bright blue eyes widened in surprise, and she sharply turned her head to glare at Stan.

“Good heavens, you didn’t tell me that!”

“And he poked my forehead, asking if I wanted to live or die.”

“Ah!”

Hey reenacted the scene by poking Renki’s forehead, just as Stan had done. Lorelai’s shocked eyes grew as wide as they possibly could.

“Staaan?”

Stan, looking wronged, alternated his gaze between Lorelai and Hey.

“When did I ever say anything about living or dying?! No! That bastard is lying! I said I wondered if you were a good person or a scoundrel! Hey, you better speak properly!”

‘Isn’t that the same thing?’

Stan pleaded his innocence, his bloodshot eyes bulging as if they might pop out. Hey, not even bothering to look at him, simply shrugged.

“I must have been too shocked and misremembered, I suppose.”

Stan, looking utterly dumbfounded, pounded his chest with a fist. Lorelai, giving Stan a sidelong glance, then offered an awkward smile.

“I apologize. Stan has a rather rough mouth. I’ll apologize on his behalf.”

“I accept your apology.”

Hey nodded readily.

“Ah, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Lorelai. Lorelai Demonic.”

Lorelai smiled brightly and extended her hand for a handshake. Hey lightly clasped it.

“Did Miss Demonic perhaps persuade Mr. Demonic to take Renki on?”

“Please call me Lorelai. And yes, I told him to accept.”

Hey tilted his head.

“Why?”

Lorelai withdrew her hand and brushed her short hair behind her ear.

“Because there are no bad spirit users in the world. On the contrary, spirit users benefit the world.”

Hey’s expression stiffened. A faint, uneven scar, shaped like a servant’s brand, was visible on Lorelai’s neck, partially concealed by her scarf.

“……You sound just like my old man.”

Hey said, smiling sweetly, feigning ignorance.

“It’s a famous adage among spirit users.”

Lorelai let out a tinkling laugh, but her eyes didn’t smile.

“I used to be a spirit user, too.”