Chapter 9 : The Mage’s Name

The Saint. The Church’s jade seal, symbolizing God’s continued love for humanity.

She entered the academy with the desire to ‘experience the life of ordinary children her age,’ and…

‘That voice… it was exactly the same as His.’

…There, she found a student presumed to be the ‘unknown Archmage.’

A world-scale grand magic that connected the souls of the entire world. She arrived at the absurd assumption that its caster was a ‘student at the academy.’

An assumption that anyone would scoff at as delusional.

But the Saint was certain.

‘I heard His voice once, so I know.’

That student, always sleeping face down on their desk in the classroom, was the mage who wielded world-scale magic and saved her from the demon.

That was the truth.

A mysterious, mystical truth, like a miracle of God.

“Saint-nim! Good morning!”
“Yes, good morning.”

Amidst the attention of the students, the Saint’s gaze was fixed on the student presumed to be the ‘unknown Archmage.’

As a nervous male student bowed his head and greeted her, sweating nervously, the Saint asked him, looking at the sleeping mage,

“What is that person’s name?”
“Their name? Well, I’ve never talked to them, so… Does anyone know?”
“I don’t really… They just sleep all day, don’t they?”

She asked several students, but strangely, no one knew the student’s name.

It was a mystery how they even got into the academy in the first place.

The more she investigated, the more certain she became that this male student was the ‘unknown Archmage’.

So…

The Saint decided to confront them directly.

“Hello? Is this seat taken?”
“…Huh?”

It was lunchtime at the academy.

Almost the only time the mage was awake and active. The Saint naturally approached with her food and spoke to the mage.

“May I eat with you?”
“Sure, I don’t mind.”

The familiar voice. The voice that spoke to her while she was praying, the voice that saved her.

It was him. There was no doubt. The moment she realized it, a tingling sensation, like her heart melting, washed over her.

The Saint flinched, trembling slightly, and bowed her head.

She barely, barely managed to compose herself and continue the conversation.

“I really wanted to talk to you. You’re always asleep, during class, during breaks.”
“That’s right. I sleep a lot.”

The mage replied nonchalantly.

He didn’t seem to be avoiding or refusing the conversation.

So…

There was one thing she really wanted to ask.

“Um, may I ask your name?”
“My name? …Call me Calvin.”

“Calvin-nim…”

The Saint savored the name for a moment, then tilted her head and asked,

“That’s the same name as the hero of the Great War in history, isn’t it?”
“There was a time like that.”

“Yes?”
“It’s nothing.”

At that moment…

Seeing the mage’s reaction, the Saint had an intuitive realization.

‘Could it be…?’

That this unknown mage, sitting in front of her and eating, was…

The ‘Hero of the Great War’ himself, from the history books.

‘Ah, was that the name I used during the Great War?’

I used so many names that I sometimes got confused about which name I used when.

Well, no sane person would think ‘This academy student is actually the Hero of the Great War in disguise’ just because we had the same name.

Whether it was Kelvin or Calvin, a name was just a name.

“What about you?”
“Ah, well… Saints are supposed to abandon their worldly names when they enter the Holy Nation. I’m just ‘the Saint’ now.”

“Really? That’s a peculiar custom.”

So, the Holy Nation had that kind of culture.

I had worked with the Saint of that era during my time as an adventurer, but it was normal for adventurers to address each other by their professions, so I didn’t find it strange that they didn’t use names.

So, I didn’t realize she didn’t have a name.

As I nodded in understanding, the Saint glanced around and whispered,

“But… I would like it if Kalben-nim called me ‘Rene’.”
“Rene?”

“It’s the name my mother gave me… before I entered the Holy Nation.”
“I see. Rene.”

“Eek…”
“Rene. Rene. It’s a nice name.”

“Hee…”

I repeated her name a few times to get used to it, but for some reason, the Saint squirmed shyly and lowered her head.

Her ears were bright red, like carrots.

It seemed she wasn’t used to being called by her name, since she was usually only called ‘Saint’.

“So, Rene.”
“Y-Yes…”

“I’m finished eating, so I’ll be going now.”
“Ah, y-yes!”

Magic Kingdom. Mansion.

When I returned home, Sylvie was waiting with a group of elf slaves in shabby clothes.

Elf slaves were quite rare, so seeing that she had already brought three, it seemed Sylvie was quite resourceful.

“Master, you’re back.”
“Yeah. You bought a lot.”

“When I said I would buy elves ‘at any price,’ under the pretense of saving my fellow race, several people offered to act as brokers. They said they would bring elf slaves regularly.”
“Good job.”

I hesitantly checked the elves’ status windows. Although not as high as Sylvie’s, their intelligence and magic power were quite high.

If I kept them in the mansion, the efficiency of the network magic would increase considerably.

“Then give them each a room and show them around so they can rest comfortably.”
“Which rooms should I give them?”

“I sleep in my workshop anyway, so any room is fine… If you run out of rooms, put them in the room at the very end of the hallway and write their names on a nameplate. Then a new room will appear at the end of the hallway.”
“…Yes? A room… will appear?”

“Yeah. With magic.”

It was a magic called ‘Procedural Space Generation’. Unlike simple space expansion magic, it was a special magic that created and expanded ‘rooms’ complete with furniture and lighting.

It was a magic I created by analyzing and modifying the magic that formed dungeons during my adventurer days.

“There should be enough food, but if you run out, go to the commercial district and buy some more. Ah, I’ve only given Sylvie permission to leave, so the others can’t leave the mansion. It’ll be a pain if they get lost.”
“Yes, understood.”

“I’ll leave it to you, Sylvie. I’m going to the workshop, so take good care of them.”
“Yes!”

After the mage entered the workshop…

The remaining slaves hesitantly looked at Sylvie. They seemed to want to ask something, but didn’t know how.

Sylvie could easily guess what they were thinking.

She was a s*ave too, after all. They must be anxious about what would happen to them, what kind of person their master was, and what was going to happen.

And…

Sylvie knew the quickest way to ease a s*ave’s anxiety.

“Everyone.”
“Y-Yes.”

“Are you all hungry?”
“…Yes.”

Sylvie went to the mansion’s kitchen and brought out a lot of salad and fruits from the refrigerator.

The elves’ mouths watered at the sight of fresh produce after so long.

The only food slaves usually got was stale black bread or gruel made from boiled dried grass.

“Eat. As much as you want.”
“C-Can we really eat this…? Won’t Master be angry…?”

“It’s a blessing from Master, so eat with gratitude.”
“Y-Yes!”

The three elves eagerly reached for the vegetables and fruits. They looked ravenous, hardly resembling the ‘race of beauty’ they were called.

If some humans, who believed that elves only ate dew, saw this, they would probably deny reality.

After burying their faces in the vegetables for a while, one of the elves, whose stomach seemed to have settled, looked up at Sylvie with a slightly relieved expression.

“…W-What kind of person is Master?”
“Well…”

In truth, Sylvie didn’t know much about her master either.

She only knew that he was an Archmage with more magical power than the World Tree, and that he was trying to connect souls using magic called ‘network’ across the world.

But…

If she had to describe him…

“He’s like… a god.”
“Yes?”

A god.

That was the most fitting expression.

“He provides us with everything, but he doesn’t force us to do anything. It’s almost unsettling how much kindness we receive…”
“Ah…”

“He needs us, but there’s nothing we can do to help him. We are here simply because he wishes it. That’s why he’s like a god.”

The three elves looked at Sylvie with puzzled expressions, but…

Eventually, they too would come to understand.

What kind of person their master was, and how powerless and useless mere elves were compared to him.

[Anonymous Bulletin Board]

[Text upload test]
[Image upload test]

After some research on network magic, I succeeded in creating a simple ‘bulletin board.’

Unlike the previous system, which used the system logs of the status window, this one was designed to store text and images by encrypting and decrypting them into ‘voice language’ format using the demon’s power.

This meant that anyone could access it as long as the ‘network magic’ was maintained, even without me.

A system based on Mana Stones, not skills, was complete.

‘It’s still too early to apply it worldwide, but I can implement a somewhat functional internet environment on a small scale.’

Thanks to a combination of coincidences and luck, I was able to take the first step towards my goal of ‘creating the internet in this world.’

A barbaric otherworld?

No, this world was progressing towards a super high-tech otherworld with ‘internet magic’!

“First, it would be good to apply it to a few areas as a test…”

After a moment of thought, I decided to run a pilot program within the mansion.

The elves would be bored if they were just cooped up inside.

There were only four of them, including Sylvie, but once the number of elves increased to tens or hundreds, I would be able to obtain proper test data.

‘I can install the magic myself in the mansion, but to apply it worldwide, I also need to create a magic tool that can supply Mana Stones as a relay.’

Would it be something like a Wi-Fi router?

I was starting to get excited.