Barbarossa Empire

Don't mock the two Shadow Dancers for sucking up so shamelessly. If other High-Level Mages had come, they might have sucked up even harder.

Mages were different from fighters.

There weren't fighters everywhere, but at least before the Age of the End of Dharma, their numbers far exceeded those of mages.

Nearly every melee class in the Chaos World had an obvious weakness or flaw. Mages were different. Their strength lay in always being able to find a spell to deal with their enemies. It was like criminal law for criminals: there was always a provision that fit you.

The problem was, mages needed talent, and the odds of becoming one were incredibly low.

Before the Age of Magic, incomplete statistics showed that among High-Level Mages and other high-level professionals, fighters outnumbered mages by an average of ten to one.

Among Legendary Level Physics School professionals, the ratio compared with mages was an astonishing fifty to one.

The funny thing was, mages were a wondrous profession that could embody both the labels powerful and fragile at once.

Don't be fooled by how a Legendary Level or even Demigod Mage could casually cast a world-shattering spell. Once their Magic Shield and protective items had been completely broken through, their frail bodies often couldn't withstand a beating from even a strong manservant.

That was why High-Level Mages usually liked to bring along a group of followers to protect them.

As it happened, mages pursued knowledge far more than material possessions, and they had no use for equipment meant for the Physics School. This led to a curious phenomenon: even before a mage had finished training—or even before he'd properly begun—he would already have a group of fighters gathered around him.

Nobles especially liked to bet on young magic apprentices.

Everyone was gambling that some magic apprentice would make it.

Now it was the Age of the End of Dharma. Mages were nearly extinct, and even the divine spells of the various churches' Clerics worked only sporadically. Sanders knew firsthand how valuable a powerful mage with reliable spellcasting was.

Mages couldn't wear leather armor. The Dragon Skin that meant little to Lein was priceless to Sanders.

This wasn't empty flattery. A Shadow Dancer who'd only just reached Master Level had no chance of getting a set of Dragon Skin Armor from the Emperor.

For the next few days, old Natton and Sanders behaved themselves impeccably in the Blacksmith Shop. Apart from going to the house next door to eat and sleep, they spent almost every waking moment hammering away.

They hardly seemed like members of the Thief class at all.

There was no other reason. They simply didn't want to invite trouble.

With Fire Bats acting as sentries, the effect was astonishing.

They had no intention of going against Lein, so naturally, they were as obedient as could be.

Lein couldn't possibly build the perfect Tesla Tower in his mind. The real thing stood a full 187 feet tall—over sixty meters.

There was no way he could manage that with the little iron ingot in the abandoned Blacksmith Shop.

Lein planned to build a weakened version, about three stories tall, around nine meters, topped with a hemispherical metal dome three meters in diameter.

He didn't know whether he could still pull off the "spell" that had killed the White Dragon in one blow.

In the eyes of outsiders, a Mage Tower was something a mage could choose not to use, but could never afford to be without.

It wasn't every day that two poor souls came along to work for him. Lein might as well make use of them.

A week later, after assembling the tower under Lein's guidance, the two masters and apprentices thanked him profusely and left.

Watching the two of them hop down the mountain with a few nimble leaps, Lein couldn't help feeling envious.

Yet he'd sooner die than say, "Take me with you."

Perhaps that was what they meant by being too proud to ask for help and making life harder for yourself.

Five days later, the two masters and apprentices had raced through wind and rain all the way back to the capital of the Barbarossa Empire. They didn't finally relax until they saw the familiar white walls of the Imperial City.

In the clear sky, the high, clear neighing of horses rang out from the clouds now and then.

As the clouds rolled, three streaks of golden light dove down. Three knights in golden armor rode their Pegasi in a V-shaped formation, sweeping across the sky toward the pure-white Imperial City.

The two masters and apprentices could clearly hear the townsfolk along Emperor Avenue voicing their admiration. People took off their hats and saluted the knights in the sky.

"Praise the Pegasus Knights!"

"Long live the Barbarossa Empire!"

Old Natton sighed with feeling. "This is the great Barbarossa Empire, the one that upheld the entire human race through the Age of the End of Dharma!"

The Chaos World's entry into the Age of the End of Dharma had dealt its most direct blow to humanity. Of all the many races, humans were jacks of all trades and masters of none.

They were less agile than Elves, weaker than the various Half-Dragons and Orcs, and less adept at magic than the Half-Demons and Half-Devils. They couldn't even compete with Goblins and Kobolds in numbers... In almost every individual field, humans ranked near the bottom.

Humans held a place in the world only because they were well-rounded.

Fortunately, that all-around adaptability served them well when the world abruptly shifted to favor physical classes. One of the two great human empires, the Barbarossa Empire, had promptly transformed itself into a kingdom of knights, investing heavily in Pegasus Knights, Rhino Knights, and other types of mounted troops. That was how it withstood the attacks of the various races.

The most revered among them were, of course, the Pegasus Knights.

That's right. Owning a Pegasus was the ultimate symbol of wealth, strength, success, and good fortune for its rider.

Even if a knight tried to become the owner of a Pegasus while it was still a foal, the young Pegasus would stubbornly choose its own master by its own standards.

Pegasi first felt repelled by evil beings. Then came the test of a heart-to-heart connection. Only a sufficiently powerful and good knight could become a Pegasus's master.

Pegasi were far stronger than the most powerful warhorses in the world, and much faster, too. With a single kick, one could easily crush an ogre's skull, and it could fly a great distance in a short time.

Over the centuries, the Pegasus had become a symbol of the Barbarossa Empire.

Every Pegasus Knight was a living Battle Flag!

As old Natton and his apprentice drew closer to the ridiculously imposing eight-story city walls, he once again marveled at the grandeur of the Imperial City. Naturally, he also noticed the magnificent twelve-story Mage Tower not far from its main gate.

Though the Mage Tower, adorned with blue crystals and shaped like a scepter, had been without its master for over a century, it still emanated a unique Arcane Radiance.

Its former master, the Legendary Archmage Antonio, had perished when the Magic Net collapsed. That was an absolute tragedy for the empire.

Worse still, the collective fall of Antonio and his apprentices hadn't stopped the Mage Tower from exercising its power. The stubborn Tower Spirit faithfully continued its duty of guarding the tower, blasting anything that dared approach it to smithereens—including members of the Barbarossa Imperial Family.

The Mage Tower had been built with a sum equal to ten years of the empire's treasury revenue, yet it had become a menace that attacked friend and foe alike without distinction. It had long been an unspeakable torment for the imperial family.