Chapter 5

Then I'd end up on an international wanted list. I'd be registered as a black mage, and heroes would come after me in wave after wave. I wouldn't be able to do my experiments in peace!

This is terrible!!!

Chapter 5

Thinking about the future filled me with pressure, and the sense of urgency spurred me into action. I dug out the books I had borrowed a few days earlier and hurried to copy down the keywords and incantations. This was a restricted spellbook I had borrowed from the Central Grand Library, a precious ancient text I could only borrow in my capacity as an academician of the research institute. If I were demoted to assistant, I would never get my hands on so much as a scrap of it again. If I became a demon king, I would have to hurry and flee, leaving me even less chance to take notes!

Damn it, I'm running low on ink, too!

Only writing penned by a mage carried magic power, and ink specially prepared through alchemy could perfectly record the mage's magical state at the time. Incantations alone were not enough to cast a spell. Even if an ordinary person enunciated an incantation more clearly than a news anchor, they still could not produce so much as a spark, while an archmage might be able to cast a high-level spell through thought alone, without speaking a word.

That was why a mage needed to practice hundreds or thousands of times, constantly adjusting their magic power and mental power, before they could master the optimal casting state for a spell. Sometimes it was a complicated process that required gradual adjustments and records. Otherwise, why would mages always keep spell notes close at hand? When a major event came up, they sometimes even had to prepare spells in advance. Take photos? Record videos? That would not work. In this age of advanced information technology, the incantations for those dangerous forbidden spells were openly posted on the internet, so why had they not caused widespread harm?

Writing online had not passed through a mage's hand, so it was just a bunch of useless code. Even in a video of a mage casting a spell, the spell was no different from a special effect in a movie. It certainly would not leap out of your light screen.

It took me two nights to copy the book. I had no choice; several magical phenomena in it were clearer at night, so I slept for a while during the day.

At noon on the second day, a knock at the door woke me from my rest. Reynold had actually ordered takeout for me... I had meant to refuse it, but the delivery staff said the gentleman who had placed the order had paid a large sum and insisted that the order could not be canceled under any circumstances. If I refused it, they would have to pay ten times the amount in compensation.

All right, that was certainly Reynold's style.

I sighed and accepted the takeout. There was enough food to last me three days! They had even brought it with tableware. My desk was piled high with manuscripts, so I had to move my bedding and let them set it on the bed frame.

The staff wore courteous smiles and were clearly well trained. They did not seem to think my cramped little room was at all mismatched with their luxurious tableware. They even said the tableware was all newly custom-made and did not need to be returned.

...I was a little confused again. Mephistopheles had already arrived in the city. Could Reynold have been so unsure of himself, so afraid he could not win over the archmage, that he was clinging to me, the substitute?

That could not be right. His Excellency the speaker of the Federal Magic Council was silver-tongued when facing political enemies, fearless in the face of assassins, and perfectly polished when receiving heads of state. I would have been impressed if he was not full of himself, so how could he possibly feel inferior?

He had to be as busy as an overloaded golem right now, yet he was still thinking about whether I had gone out to eat. That did not look much like someone getting ready to dump his substitute and happily pursue the original. What exactly was Reynold planning? Was he counting on me to change my mind?

Hmm... that would be

too

funny.

I ate a little, picked up the book, and hurried to the Central Grand Library. I had to read a few more restricted ancient texts before my academician status was revoked!

The Central Grand Library stood in the central district of the capital, Holy Light City. The name Holy Light City was very old, taken from the Temple of Light, which had stood among the hills on the outskirts for thousands of years. During the "lightless years," when technology had just begun to emerge and dealt a crushing blow to all traditional magic, the capital had briefly been renamed Nova City before its old name was restored. She was like a vast museum of the ages. Remnants of every era could be found here, tucked between the high-rises of the new century, with overhead rail lines and magic-guided teleporters, long since commonplace, interspersed among them-

Yes, magic-guided teleportation was now the preferred way to travel for the vast majority of people. It could cover a distance spanning more than half the city in the blink of an eye, except for the few people born hypersensitive to the quanta involved in magic-guided teleportation, which could cause dizziness or even shock.

Magic-guided teleporters and ancient teleportation magic arrays were fundamentally different things. Though their ultimate effects were similar, technology and magic were worlds apart. Restoring ancient teleportation arrays was the project I was working on. The magical inheritance had lost many precious assets under the pressure of technology. The methods for making and using teleportation arrays had been lost long ago, and archaeology had turned up almost no remains, probably because they had all been destroyed during the wars to prevent the arrays from being used for invasions. I guessed they might also have been torn down as blights of the old age, but everyone had indeed shared in the bitter consequences. According to local chronicles, before magic-guided technology produced teleportation devices, people who could not afford cars had suffered terribly on subways and buses. Documentaries had also shown subway surveillance footage from the last divine era, and the carriages looked just like tins of sardines. I figured that if I took a ride on one, I would come out a

salted fish

. Forget experiments, I would even forget the Fireball Spell.

Modern transportation was much more convenient and efficient. Public sky trains and light airships were both fast and uncrowded. New models of private flying cars appeared every day, and flying motorcycles were popular too, with dedicated lanes for them. Public teleportation devices were a little expensive to use, but still affordable for the working class.

As for traffic problems caused by major international events, those were exceptional circumstances, after all.

The proper name of this thing, which I had always thought resembled a berserker rage exchange conference, was the "International Spell Exchange and Discussion Summit." It did seem to be some kind of popular event, because I saw it all over the electronic screens on buildings along the street. There were even entertainment stars preparing to liven up the opening ceremony...

The Osland Federation valued magic, so the Federation took the lead in organizing the summit, which was held regularly in the capital, Holy Light City. Actually, I had heard from Reynold that mages were not the only ones who attended, but the clergy from the temples sent at most a couple of figureheads as a token gesture. The druids said nothing throughout the event and had even been caught by the media secretly turning into cats and sleeping soundly on their chairs. As for sorcerers... whenever mages were hosting, at most one would squeeze in to make a token appearance.

Anyone who could use spells could be called a spellcaster. Although most people thought of mages when spellcasters were mentioned, in its proper sense, "spellcaster" was an umbrella term that included not just us mages, but also alchemists, divine spellcasters, druids, and so on. Oh... all right, sorcerers too. There were quite a lot of them.

Nowadays, many outsiders could not tell the difference. Never mind the difference between a sorcerer's fireball and a mage's; even druids and mages were sometimes confused. Unscrupulous media outlets had even coined the term "magic user" to describe everyone they saw using some kind of wondrous power. Most absurdly, I had even seen a reporter on camera point at a plainclothes paladin and call him a "magic user." The look on that paladin's face had been priceless. The professional standards of modern reporters were really something. Luckily, they had not called mages conjurers or stage magicians, or they really might have made a mage explode with rage.

Of course, any reporter who dared call a mage a sorcerer would definitely get beaten up too. Since ancient times, orthodox mages had looked down on bloodline spellcasters such as sorcerers and witches. Witches were extremely rare now. As for sorcerers, I admitted it: we openly looked down on them. They lived their whole lives off their bloodline talents. Their power was innate, but it could not be refined either. Their magic could not be learned, nor did it need to be. Whatever level they were born at was the level they stayed at until death. Most sorcerers spent their entire lives hurling fireballs and Chaos Bolts around pointlessly, contributing nothing to academia!

Crowds of onlookers had gathered in the blocks ahead. Even though television and online livestreaming were highly developed, many people still liked to come and see the excitement in person. All around Holy Light Grand Square, fresh flowers and red carpets adorned the area, and the crowds waited eagerly. All kinds of aircraft descended along the road from time to time and entered the square as the various important figures attending the summit arrived one after another.

This was wonderful. Watching the bustling scene from a distance, I figured there surely would not be many people in the library.