Provocation and a Wager

"Isn't this young Master Merlinar, the knight who lost his fief? How did you get so hard up that you've come to mooch a meal at Baron Red Maple's house? If you're short on money to buy barley and cook over a fire, why not borrow some from me? The Gerry family has vast lands and doesn't need these few Copper Horns of yours!"

While the butler was reporting to his master, the visitor outside had already pushed past the servants trying to stop him and barged in uninvited.

The newcomer was a noble youth of around twenty, but his face was full of a vulgar, insolent air. He looked more like a street thug than a noble, and his appearance was far from likable. Beside him stood an elderly mage in a splendid robe, holding a staff as tall as a man. His hair and beard were both snow-white.

Barley was a coarse grain eaten daily mainly by the poorest commoners and slaves. The black bread baked from flour ground from it was hard, dry, and difficult to swallow, and few nobles ever had the chance to try it. The visitor's words were clearly meant to mock Donald's fallen status as a noble. What he didn't know was that Donald now controlled more wealth than most landed nobles. At the very least, those minor hereditary nobles whose lands ranked below a baron's couldn't produce several thousand, let alone ten thousand, Gold Sols at once—not even after decades of saving!

The visitor's words were so offensive that even Baron Red Maple, who believed in keeping the peace, couldn't help frowning deeply. But when he saw the elderly mage beside the youth, the merchant noble clearly had his reservations. The scolding that had reached his lips died there.

Donald, on the other hand, was furious, but he still managed to maintain his noble bearing and didn't resort to violence. Instead, he secretly gave the other man a small lesson. He marshaled his mental power and cast an Apprentice Spell, snatching up a raw steak meant to be grilled and hurling it hard into that mouth he wanted nothing more than to tear apart.

"Ugh!... Ptooey, ptooey!"

"Who was that? Which bastard dared to make a fool of me? Come out and face your death!"

The noble youth had been swaggering about, and the unexpected humiliation filled him with fury. He shouted and cursed loudly.

The elderly mage beside him, however, raised his white brows and pointed at Donald. "How dare you, apprentice! You dare show off your pitiful Apprentice Spell in front of me, a master? Come out and apologize!"

"Everyone is equal before magic. You're not my teacher, and we've never even met. What gives you the right to demand an apology?"

Donald's calm voice rang out. The old mage was briefly speechless, then immediately snapped, "I'm your senior, for one thing! Didn't your teacher teach you the proper etiquette for mages?"

Seeing the old mage leaning on his age and seniority, Donald, confident in his own position, naturally wouldn't let him insult and belittle him. He quickly struck back.

"You truly are an old master, both in age and in rank—a model for us apprentices. But I have only one teacher, Master Messer. Has your standing already risen to the level of a master?"

"This..."

The old mage was struck speechless at the mention of Messer. If he said anything that sullied that man's name, then even if the man himself was magnanimous enough not to hold it against him, every other mage in North Shire would. He wouldn't be able to remain in North Shire afterward.

The old mage had his reservations, but the young noble was so furious that he'd lost his head. He cursed, "What Master Messer? I've never even heard of him! Do you know who you're talking to? Offend me, and you offend the entire Gerry lordship. You—"

Before the youth could finish, the old mage abruptly yanked him aside, cutting him off mid-sentence.

The old mage's face had turned pale, whether from shock or anger. Just as he was about to ask what was wrong, he heard Donald chuckle from across the room.

"If you dared say that in Giant Stone City, now that would be something worthy of admiration! I'm certain that within half a day, every mage in North Shire would join forces to turn you into a roast pig. Even the City Guard and the North Shire governor wouldn't dare interfere."

Even Baron Red Maple nodded in agreement. The boy was an utter fool to dare insult that master. Even the great nobles of the Kingdom treated him as an equal and didn't dare show him the slightest disrespect.

At best, the matter would be dismissed because that man was magnanimous. At worst, the youth's family could lose both its noble title and its entire fief over those words.

Meanwhile, the old mage had already explained the consequences to the youth, leaving the fellow's face deathly pale.

Seeing that the youth had learned his lesson and quieted down, Baron Red Maple finally spoke to him at an unhurried pace.

"Sodo, have you come to see Saolin again today? And who is this respected mage?"

The youth managed to force a faint smile. "This is Master Snow, the mage adviser newly hired by our Gerry barony. I heard that Uncle Ernest and Miss Saolin both admire mages, so I specially invited Master Snow to pay them a visit!"

Their conversation also dispelled Donald's doubts about how the youth had happened to show up here.

This youth was the grandson of old Gerry, who had seized his family's fief years ago. He was Sodo, son of the current Lord Gerry, and he had repeatedly insulted and mocked Donald in the past. To borrow an old saying from Donald's previous life, he'd recognize this guy even if he were reduced to ashes. The instant Sodo appeared, old grudges and fresh anger surged through Donald.

Back then, the Merlinar family's fief had been stolen through the schemes of old Gerry, a swindler. At the time, old Gerry had merely been the steward of the previous Viscount Macbeth's household. Wanting to help his son—the current Lord Gerry—make something of himself, he had plotted to take the fief of the already declining Merlinar Family. He then petitioned to have it inherited by his son, who had officially risen from Knight Attendant to knight.

By rights, the Merlinar Family, like Baron Red Maple, had not been a direct vassal of Viscount Macbeth. Both were local lords who owed allegiance to His Majesty the King. Somehow, however, the Gerry family had bribed officials in the royal court and seized the Merlinar family's fief. Then Gerry's master had directly granted him the title of lord.

Though Donald, with his soul from another world, knew that the Viscount's family must have been backing the whole affair, what enraged him most was the memory of the Gerry family's shameless trickery, which had stolen his family's fief and angered his grandfather to death.

Lord Gerry, a vassal of Viscount Macbeth, coveted Baron Red Maple's lands and property. At the Viscount's behest, he had instructed his son to pursue the baron's daughter. Even Viscount Macbeth coveted Baron Red Maple's two major industries, maple sugar and wine!

Today, Lord Gerry's son had brought Master Snow, a third-level mage newly hired by the Gerry family, hoping to show off before his future father-in-law and improve his chances of marrying the baron's daughter.

Baron Red Maple had always wanted to establish ties with the mages, but none had responded. Mages were proud—even low-ranking mages in the early Black Iron stage.

So, now that the family had recruited this third-level mage and Baron Red Maple still hadn't given a clear answer about the marriage, Lord Gerry had come up with a plan that was both a show of force and a chance to flaunt his new hire.

As for Snow Mage, he came from a commoner background and had originally had a rather vulgar name, so he'd changed it himself to Snow.

Ordinary commoners in this world generally had only given names, not surnames. Often, if a father was named Rob, his son would be called Young Rob. If they had many children, even coming up with names was a headache for parents who could barely read.

Slaves, for their part, mostly had nothing but numbers; they weren't even given proper names. If a commoner had a surname of his own, then his ancestors must have had some connection to the nobility or the Professional class, making him a cut above ordinary commoners.

The old mage used a single-word name because most people would then call him Master Snow, which gave him a strong sense of superiority.

With his rank, he was nowhere near worthy of the title "master," even though his appearance and clothes made him look more like a master than Master Messer, North Shire's Number One Mage. Only high-ranking mages could just barely be called masters. A true master was a Golden-rank Archmage. Strictly speaking, Messer hadn't yet reached Silver rank as a mage, but considering that his achievements in alchemy had reached the Silver realm, along with his standing in North Shire, calling him a master was entirely justified.

It was said that even the masters of the Kingdom Mage Association treated Master Messer, the only senior alchemist in Celt and a master of enchantment, with great respect.

Following the tradition of the Ancient Magic Empire, mages believed that on the path to pursuing truth, the more accomplished should take precedence.

Snow Mage was already nearly sixty, yet he was still only a third-level, low-ranking mage. Narrow-minded, he had always looked upon talented young apprentices with a mixture of envy and jealousy. As he aged and his rank stagnated, those feelings only grew stronger. So when he saw Donald, a young apprentice of seventeen, it felt as if a fire were burning inside him.

Snow Mage had heard from his friend, Mage Naron, about the news that a genius apprentice at the Giant Stone City Mage Association had been taken on by Messer. He hadn't expected to run into him today while accompanying his employer's son on an errand. Donald, the apprentice before him, was one of the leading young talents of his generation. How could the old mage not burn with jealousy?

Upon hearing Snow Mage's name, Donald immediately became more wary. The attendant at the Mage Association had previously warned him that Snow Mage had appeared alongside Mage Naron, a mid-rank Black Iron mage. Snow Mage's attitude was probably no better than Naron's!

When neither side said anything and the atmosphere grew awkward, Baron Red Maple stepped forward as host to ease the tension.

"I'm hosting a banquet today to celebrate Knight Merlinar's success in becoming a distinguished and promising Apprentice Mage. You've both arrived at just the right time. Why don't you sit with us and celebrate together?"

Sodo was still fretting over his earlier blunder. Snow Mage took the opportunity to accept the invitation and led Sodo to the table.

As one course after another was served, Donald ate with relish, while the two men who had been so cocky and arrogant earlier could barely manage to eat.

Sodo had been frightened by his slip of the tongue, but his nerves had settled now. Seeing Donald thoroughly enjoying the food made him seethe.

Sodo had often given Donald trouble in the past. He hadn't expected that this insignificant, fallen noble would ever get the chance to make a comeback! The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that he couldn't let the boy keep growing. Beside him, Snow Mage was already consumed by jealousy and wished he could destroy the so-called genius apprentice on the spot.

The two men whispered to each other over the table and eventually came up with a plan—if not a good one. They would find a way to provoke the young apprentice into a spell duel with the old mage, then make him wager the ring given to him by that master. Once he lost the gift, the master would surely be displeased, leaving Donald unable to rely on Messer's name.

Snow Mage was the first to set down his cutlery. He pretended to be elegant as he wiped his mouth with his napkin, then said:

"Apprentice Merlinar, I've heard about your performance in the Mage Association's certification exam. Would you be willing to discuss magic with me, a third-level mage?"

The old mage tried to imitate noble etiquette, but since he came from a commoner background and had never received a proper education, his imitation only made him seem awkward and incomplete. He would have come across better if he'd simply acted naturally and casually; as it was, he seemed affected and ridiculous.

Donald didn't know what the other man was plotting, but he knew it couldn't be anything good for him. Still, he wasn't afraid of a third-level mage. He now had plenty of Magic Beast Cores and Elemental Crystals at his disposal. Whether through powerful summoned creatures or the formidable equipment in the Book of Truth, he could defend himself against—or even subdue—the old mage before him.

Donald knew the other man meant no good and wanted to see what the two were planning, so he gave a casual nod.

Donald's indifferent air set Snow Mage's temper ablaze again. He was a dignified mage capable of casting third-level spells, his strength already at the peak of the Black Iron stage, yet the apprentice before him seemed almost too contemptuous to even speak with him. How could that not make him jealous and resentful?

"Apprentice Merlinar seems very confident in himself! Why don't we make a wager and have a spell duel using the method mages commonly use for practice? It could also liven up the baron's banquet. What do you say?"

"Sure! How would you like to compete, Snow Mage?"

Sodo chimed in from the side. "It's rare for us nobles to see two mages compete. We can't do it without something at stake. Why not wager the ring and staff in your hands?"

Watching the two men work together to bait him, while Baron Red Maple watched with interest, Donald gave a derisive laugh to himself. If he were an ordinary young man, full of pride and hotheadedness, he would probably have walked right into their trap!

Though Donald was still as impulsive as any young man, his soul was already thirty years old. Having lived a second life, he was much steadier. He had been wary of these two from the start, so he wouldn't fall for their bait so easily. Even though he didn't consider a mere third-level mage like Snow Mage a threat, he still wouldn't put himself in danger without good reason.

He looked at Sodo and the others with feigned hesitation. As the two watched expectantly, he suddenly broke into a bright smile—and said something that nearly made them spit blood.

"Sorry, I refuse!"