The Grand Ancestress's Thoughts

"What a lively scene! So early in the morning, truly befitting [Äußerst]."

Galan sighed, stretched, and then continued along the path that had led to the Palace.

Having learned from his first experience, he didn't take a long detour this time and quickly arrived at the Palace gate.

"Oh? Lord Galan, you've come again."

Perhaps it was just a coincidence, but the guard at the main hall entrance was the same man who had greeted Galan last time. Even from a distance, the man recognized him.

Because of the previous embarrassing incident, the guards thought Galan would never appear again, but to their surprise, he's back after only one day. What exactly is his relationship with Lady Serie...?

The guard secretly speculated, but did not ask directly. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, he received instructions from inside the hall and led Galan inside.

Today, the Palace was not as silent and empty as it had been before; the sound of quills writing on parchment echoed throughout the hall.

At least several dozen scholars dressed in elaborate robes were intently writing something at their seats.

Some people, after finishing their writing, would carefully scan the paper, then whistle to summon a carrier pigeon, tie the parchment to its leg, and watch it fly out into the sky above the main hall. "What... what are they doing?"

Galan was quite curious about the exaggerated scale of the event; if someone who didn't know better came, they might think it was a book being repaired.

"I only heard about this from a patrol captain. The guards seemed to think that Galan and Serie were so close, they weren't outsiders, so they didn't hide anything from him."

"I heard that Lady Serie has decided to establish an organization on the continent to manage Mage, something like... [Continental Magic Association]?"

His words carried a hint of uncertainty. "After all, it's just something I heard from someone else, so don't take it too seriously... However, if that [Continental Magic Association] is really to be established, it probably won't be an easy task..."

99

It makes sense, wouldn't the Empire be happy to see power in the hands of someone else if they tried to interfere with the management of the Mage community?

Especially given the current situation, the sudden establishment of the [Continental Magic Association] seems like an ill-timed choice.

Serie doesn't seem like the type of person who cares about power, so why is she doing this?

Galan was deep in thought, but he couldn't figure out what Serie was thinking. "Lord Galan, we've arrived."

As he pondered, the guard walking ahead suddenly stopped.

I thought someone would open the door from the outside again, but the gilded door remained open the whole time.

"Come in."

Serie's voice came from inside the door, while the guard gave her a "good luck" look before turning and leaving.

With a heavy heart, Galan walked in and stopped at the bottom of the steps, just like yesterday. In front of him, Serie was sitting cross-legged in the chair, just like yesterday, and even her expression was exactly the same, making Galan wonder if the old lady hadn't left the chair since yesterday.

"I now have a way to determine how long you can remain on this timeline."

"Oh? What method?"

Hearing Serie get straight to the point, Galan looked up with a surprised expression.

After all, the other party seemed to have no way to deal with [Return Magic] yesterday, and only a day has passed, yet they already have a way to judge how long I've stayed.

"I will strengthen the causal connection between us by teaching you magic. Based on this connection, I will be able to find a way to predict your remaining time."

Well, I guess you could call it an experiment I did with [Return Magic].

She added this at the end, seemingly to tell Galan that she wasn't doing it to help him, but simply wanted to study magic.

Galan inwardly sighed, thinking how magnanimous his grandmother was, not holding a grudge from yesterday and even calling him to lend a hand. But then, as if realizing something, he looked at Serie on the throne with disbelief:

"Teach me magic?"

"Um?"

Serie gently raised her chin, her sharp eyes like two thorns piercing Galan's body.

Her icy, queen-like demeanor was unmistakable, suggesting she was quite dissatisfied with her own reaction.

"But I'm a warrior! How am I supposed to learn magic?"

Seeing the other party's stance, Galan seemed a little intimidated and asked somewhat awkwardly.

Are you questioning my approach? Since I said it, it means you are capable of doing it.

"Although your blockhead might not seem to have the potential to become a powerful Mage, the Mana within you is actually sufficient to meet the threshold for becoming Mage."

Serie said irritably, "That's true, but making me learn magic from scratch is too much trouble... I don't even know basic [Ordinary Offensive Magic]..."

Galan scratched his head, looking somewhat troubled.

Having witnessed how Duncan trained Lia before, he knew that becoming Mage was no easy feat.

Moreover, even with Lia's astonishing talent, she couldn't achieve a qualitative transformation within a year or two. How could someone with his blockhead-like talent possibly master magic in such a short time?

If it takes that long, I might have already returned to the future before I even became a novice Mage.

Although he wasn't completely without magic, in today's world, thanks to Flamme's influence, magic is quite widespread.

In [Äußerst], almost 80% of the people can use magic, but the few spells that Galan knows are the kind that even an eleven or twelve-year-old child can learn, and are only for everyday use to handle some trivial matters in life.

After all, this kind of simple magic is easy to learn. But even so, in order to learn such an easy magic as [the magic that makes the tissue fly to the toilet by itself], he squatted on the toilet until his legs went numb several times without getting up, just to try to see if he could unleash his potential to learn magic in a critical moment.

"Hmph, if you were to learn a regular offensive spell, it would probably take you more than ten years, right?"

Faced with Serie's mockery, Galan could only nod helplessly. More than ten years... perhaps the old lady overestimated herself a bit...

It might take me twenty years, who knows...