Chapter 150

The Pendragon Kingdom was currently plagued by numerous troublesome incidents.

Notable examples included the massive "monster terror" attack during the academy’s midterm evaluations and, shortly thereafter, the "collapse of the underground tunnels," which happened in the southern continent's largest fertilizer production area.

Either one of these events would have been enough to shake the kingdom to its core, but for both to happen in quick succession was unprecedented.

It wasn’t an exaggeration to say these events were ominous signs and a grave crisis for the kingdom.

However, the lack of unrest in the kingdom despite these events could be attributed to the fact that both incidents were resolved without major consequences.

Articles like these circulated widely.

Thanks to the absence of significant damage despite the magnitude of the events, the kingdom had avoided falling into chaos.

Of course, internally, various organizations were holding emergency meetings, and loud arguments could be heard daily—but that was a matter for the higher-ups.

The common people continued their daily lives, and the atmosphere was peaceful enough to be described as tranquil.

And perhaps it was this very sense of peace that led to such conversations:

“Indeed, Pendragon truly lives up to its reputation. It’s no exaggeration to call it the ruler of the south.”

“Indeed. I heard there were some significant events recently.”

“Hah, do you believe those baseless rumors? They say a thousand-year-old monster appeared and a giant Mother Worm collapsed the tunnels.”

“…It’s certainly a hard story to believe. A thousand-year-old monster is debatable, but even a single Mother Worm is a serious problem.”

“Absolutely. In the west, if a worm is discovered, it must be killed immediately. If it reaches maturity, it becomes a true nightmare.”

Two men sat together in an opulent carriage.

Gilded in gold and adorned with a variety of extravagant jewels, the carriage’s value was beyond estimation. It was drawn by five enormous black horses, each worth the cost of building a fortress.

Truly, it was a display of obscene wealth.

But the owner of this carriage and its horses was a man who could afford such excesses without a second thought—a magnate of the western continent and one of the seventeen sultans who ruled the region.

“Sultan, is there anything else you require?”

“Bring me the chilled wine I purchased earlier at the street stall.”

“S-Sultan, I am deeply concerned that such wine may sully your refined palate….”

“Enough.”

“…As you command.”

Salah al-Adil Muhammad.

Or simply, Sultan Salah.

He was the ruler of the largest oasis, gold mines, gemstone quarries, and merchant guilds in the western continent.

His youthful, handsome appearance complemented his bronzed skin, and despite being only 27 years old, he had already ascended to the position of sultan.

This young leader carried an aura of charisma as imposing as his youthful arrogance, commanding respect and awe from those around him.

“Ah, as expected, southern wines never disappoint. Even a bottle bought from a random stall is of excellent quality.”

“The fact that even commoners can sell such high-quality wine shows just how efficient their logistics system is.”

“It’s the work of the War God. Truly remarkable. How he managed to establish such a system is beyond me. If one were to fight Pendragon, the south’s logistics alone would guarantee defeat.”

“Hm, should you be saying that in front of me?”

“Well, aren’t you also interested in conquering Pendragon? Am I wrong, Mage?”

“Let’s not go there, Sultan. Even if you speak this way, I won’t be drawn in.”

“You could be more honest in a setting like this….”

The sultan spoke kindly, as if encouraging him to share his true feelings, but the mage was not deceived.

On the contrary, he grew even more cautious.

“While I appreciate your hospitality, if you continue making such remarks, this journey will have to end here.”

“Oh, my! One mustn’t offend a mage, must one? Hahaha!”

Despite the sultan’s jesting, the mage maintained his composure, though his frustration was evident.

Had it been anyone else, he might have lashed out, but his companion was a sultan—one of the western “17 Lords” or “Kings.” Losing his temper would have been unwise.

‘Provoking him would only hurt us.’

The rare materials exclusively available in the west were supplied to the Magic Tower by the sultan’s merchants, making discretion essential.

‘I hope this uncomfortable journey ends soon.’

The mage’s name was Huey de Beiron.

He was the heir to the Magic Tower, often referred to as the “Ivory Tower of Mages.”

“You’ve turned your gaze completely outside now. What a dull man you are.”

Huey barely restrained a sigh and shifted his attention outward, toward the cheering crowds that welcomed them.

Despite the fervent enthusiasm of the people greeting him, Huey’s gaze remained icy.

“—Just look at that common spellcaster.”

“What?”

“Look at their eyes. They’re not human. That’s no more than a monster in human skin, like an ogre or goblin.”

“…Master, isn’t that discriminatory language?”

“Perhaps it is.”

“…You’re surprisingly quick to admit that.”

“I’m aware that I lose my composure when it comes to spellcasters. That’s why your role is crucial.”

“Me?”

“Yes, if I lose my temper and try to tear him apart, you must stop me. Your mission is of utmost importance.”

“Um…, I-I think that’s beyond me….”

Her violet-blue eyes held a trace of unease.

She wanted to fulfill her master’s requests whenever possible, but…

‘For some reason, Master seems to grow stronger when dealing with mages.’

As expected of Levi, whose potential would eventually elevate her to the title of Mercenary Queen, she understood her master’s strength well. Scratching her cheek, she silently voiced her apprehension.

It felt like they were on the verge of a major incident.

The western sultan and the empire’s Magic Tower.

It had been nearly fifty years since these two forces had simultaneously visited the southern region.

For decades, they had been subdued by the War God’s dominance, unable to show their true colors or visit freely. Now, with the War God gone, they were beginning to reveal their intentions.

Some nobles felt displeased, but others said:

“It’s not a grave offense for them to visit; it’s merely a coincidence.”

Regardless, there was a clear reason for their visit.

It was none other than…

“Lady Irene, will you meet with them, or shall we wait for them to come to you? Either choice will be respected.”

“I… I just don’t want to meet them at all….”

A young girl who might one day become the greatest mage of this era—a golden egg waiting to hatch.

They had come to the kingdom to meet Irene Windler.

Diplomatically, it was customary to receive such distinguished guests, but…

“Well, if the lady truly dislikes it, there’s no helping it.”

“??”

…Weren’t they supposed to persuade her?

The headmaster gave up surprisingly easily, leaving Irene blinking in confusion at the unexpected outcome.

“…Um, Headmaster. It feels strange to say this after refusing, but are you sure it’s okay to just give up? They’re important guests from foreign lands, after all.”

[“That’s right, our Irene would have agreed to meet them if pressured. She’s too timid to refuse outright.”]

‘You, shut up!’

Even though Irene had said she didn’t want to meet them, if the headmaster had insisted, she likely would have relented, just as the ghost girl suggested.

“Yes, it’s true. Both the Magic Tower and the Sultan are distinguished guests.”

The headmaster nodded in agreement.

After all, they were undeniably important visitors—one wielding immense power in the empire, the other dominating the western continent.

Neither could be underestimated, and offending them would result in significant diplomatic losses and foster unnecessary hostility.

However—

“You are not just any noble young lady; you are the ‘Lady of Galahad.’ Who in their right mind would dare force you to comply when you’ve said no?”

“……”

“Frankly speaking, I have no desire to make an enemy of the Duke either. That man holds grudges like no one else.”

The headmaster exaggerated a shiver, as if recalling a terrifying memory. His tone was half-joking, but there was an undercurrent of genuine unease that left Irene at a loss for words.

“…Headmaster, are you saying there’s something even you, a former chancellor, are afraid of?”

“Former chancellor, yes. But even if I were still in office, I wouldn’t dare cross him. I’ve witnessed his younger days firsthand, and I know it’s a hundred times better to oppose the Sultan and the Magic Tower than to provoke him.”

“……”

The strength of Galahad’s influence seemed far greater than Irene had imagined.

She felt, if only faintly, the immense power that her “creepy uncle” wielded over his domain.

The headmaster continued,

“In any case, Lady Irene, do as you wish. If you decide to meet them, let us know the time and place. The academy will do its utmost to accommodate you.”

“…You’re subtly pressuring me, aren’t you?”

“Haha, of course not.”

“……”

…What a sly old fox.

Despite his innocent words, his eyes radiated palpable pressure.

‘I swear, I might just do it!’

Irene felt an overwhelming urge to issue a “Buster Call.”

“So… this is how it turned out. What should I do?”

“You’re asking me that?”

“You’re the only adult I trust, Instructor.”

“Flattery.”

“It’s the truth, I swear!”

Burdened by the mounting events surrounding her, Irene sought advice from Ihan.

To Ihan, her predicament was—

‘Perfect timing.’

It was both absurd and slightly fortunate news.

Given his current interest in the Magic Tower, this could potentially provide him with an easier way to approach them.

However—

“…Do as you wish.”

“Excuse me?”

“You probably want to reject them because you find the situation overwhelming. But knowing you, you’re also worried about inconveniencing others, which is making you hesitate.”

“Oh…”

Irene gasped softly.

For a moment, it felt as though Ihan had read her mind completely.

“There’s no need to worry. There will be little to no harm caused. If anything, they should be the ones treading carefully in our kingdom. Why should you feel guilty? Just ignore it. You’d rather take a nap and enjoy some desserts than deal with those people, right?”

“Gasp!”

His words hit the mark perfectly.

It was as if he had pinpointed every thought in her head, leaving her wide-eyed in astonishment. If he asked her to sign up for some insurance right now, she might just fall for it.

“How exaggerated.”

This was one of Ihan’s rare warm pieces of advice.

It was selfless, a suggestion without any hidden agenda.

But that was natural.

Even though Irene was a mage, she was also one of his students.

‘She’s a spellcaster, but she’s still my student! She’s a spellcaster, but she’s my student…!’

It was almost like self-hypnosis.

Despite his aversion to mages, Ihan couldn’t deny his role as her mentor. He was determined to set aside his bias and offer her genuine guidance.

Anyone aware of Ihan’s deep-seated disdain for mages would understand just how much effort it took for him to act this way.

…However, his efforts were soon overshadowed.

“I feel bad for you, Lady Irene, but it seems they’ve already taken the lead. Or perhaps ‘sneaky’ is a better word for it?”

“Levi?”

Levi interjected, giving Irene an apologetic look.

“I just read the latest news. It seems they’re determined to meet you, Lady Irene, and they’re using legal but underhanded means to do so.”

“…Should I just call in that creepy uncle?”

Irene grimaced as if she were dealing with a persistent stalker.

And with good reason.

They were being downright shameless.

“See? No shame at all.”

“…Yeah.”

Ihan remarked with exasperation, and Levi nodded in agreement without realizing it.

‘Wait, if this is the case…?’

Sneaking a glance, Levi murmured,

“A banquet… Hmm, do instructors get to participate too?”

“…It seems they do.”

Levi paled slightly as she realized she might actually have to account for the possibility of her master tearing apart a Magic Tower representative.

…She reminded herself that she might truly need to act as the “brakes” to prevent such a catastrophe.