Koch gritted his teeth.
He could no longer hide it.
But revealing everything meant risking the Second Prince being branded a traitor—a serious situation.


“...I will tell you everything. Only...”
“Is there still something holding you back?”
“...That magical artifact Wingester created... it was something his grandfather researched long ago.”
“Huh. So he continued his grandfather's research. That's a commendable story.”


Koch revealed a truth he had never wanted to tell the prince, who seemed to be enjoying himself.


“…That magic tool was an object His Majesty the current King deemed sacrilegious and had ‘disposed of’ along with his grandfather.”
“…….”


Only then did Griphellos’s expression turn grave.
He never imagined the magic tool he’d been about to touch was a forbidden item that had fallen out of favor with His Majesty and been disposed of.


“Wait a moment. Then how did Wingester inherit that research?”
“...I don't know that either.”


He had a vague idea, but unless he was certain, there was no need to bring it up.


“It is strange indeed. If true, it means I've stepped on a massive landmine...”


Griphellos fell into deep thought.
He had no intention of abandoning that magic tool.
It was far too useful to give up.


That magical artifact that allowed Wingester, with his low magical aptitude, to fight on equal footing with the descendants of the Seiz family, combat mages of the highest caliber.


With just that in hand, he could make his plans a reality.


“...I must consult the records of the Arcane Veil after all.”
“Your Highness?!”
“If I suddenly bring up that magical artifact, I'll surely be suspected.”
“What do you mean...?”
“By consulting the records of the Arcane Veil, I will create a ‘precedent’.”
“......!”


Koh immediately grasped the meaning behind Prince Griphellos's words.


By accessing the records of the Arcane Veil, he would create the ‘cause’ of having learned about that magical artifact, thereby establishing the conditions to speak to the king.


“Are you sure this is wise?! If anything goes wrong…!”
“I know. But I believe it's worth the risk to obtain it. That magic tool….”
“Why are you so fixated on it….”


Before Koch's pleading, Griphellos flashed a triumphant smile.


“The creator, how is Wingester’s aptitude for magic?”
“……!”
“Right. Mass-producing and distributing that magic tool… would turn everyone in the kingdom with low magical aptitude into warriors.”
“Th-that’s…”


Above all, the troops trained that way would naturally become his own forces, Griphellos’s own army.
It would be the ultimate trump card to instantly overturn the feeling of always being overshadowed by his brother due to his lower magical aptitude.


“Anyway, thank you for the information, Professor Koch.”
“Ah, not at all...”
“Then you may leave. I must immediately attend to His Majesty.”
“……!”


Several hours later.
Griphellos knelt on one knee at the center of the audience chamber before His Majesty.


“I wondered what could be so urgent that you requested an audience so suddenly... What is your purpose in bringing up such a story?


The current king was one of the world’s few 8th Circle Masters, a formidable figure who had strengthened his royal authority through an iron-fisted rule that valued tradition.


Though his prestige had been tarnished by the recent defeat in the local conflict with the Maritime Kingdom, his presence as monarch remained formidable.


“Recently, while reviewing the Academy's annual graduation thesis collection to discover young talent, I learned of individuals whose whereabouts are unknown or who vanished along with their research.”
“......”
" While investigating them, I thought perhaps records might remain within the Arcane Veil...“


Thud.


A middle-aged mage among the ministers seated to the left struck the floor with his staff, voicing objection.


”Your Majesty! This cannot be! The Arcane Veil is an organization directly under the King's command alone! Even His Royal Highness the Prince violates the principle!"


Griphellos gritted his teeth inwardly.
He was one of the high-ranking officials who strongly supported Henkepallos, the First Prince and his elder brother.


“Enough. The Prince is speaking.”
“Hah! My apologies.”


Fortunately, the King's intervention forced him to back down, but he could feel the King's piercing gaze fixed on Griphellos, clearly displeased.
Griphellos, however, paid no heed and continued his speech.


“Therefore, by examining the records of the Arcane Veil, if there are any researchers whose crimes were not severe and who could contribute to the kingdom, I wish to give them an opportunity to redeem their disgrace.”
“……!”


The expressions of the high officials from the First Prince's faction listening nearby instantly twisted.


Griphellos's current statement was an act directly contradicting the king's decision—attempting to bring back and utilize those whom the king had branded as disrespectful and punished.


“How dare such disrespectful words!”


The representative of the First Prince faction, that dignitary, could not contain himself and raised his voice.
But the King, with a cold, steely demeanor, slammed his fist down on the armrest of the throne.


“Enough!”
“……!”


The dignitaries, unable to press further under the King's thunderous rebuke, bowed their heads and crouched low.


“Griphellos.”


The king's voice carried a cold, settled fury.
This was the critical moment.


The slightest slip of the tongue could make Griphellos a traitor.
Griphellos swallowed hard, desperately selecting his words.


“...Yes. Father.”
“Do you understand the full meaning of what you just said?”
“...Yes. I understand perfectly, Father.”


The slightly furrowed expression on the king's face eased just a little.
Unlike the First Prince, who excelled solely as a mage, the Second Prince, while perhaps lacking somewhat as a mage, surpassed his elder brother in nearly every other aspect.

Therefore, when he declared his intention to compete with his elder brother for the position of Crown Prince, the King readily accepted it.


Though he valued tradition, he had come to believe that determining the Crown Prince solely based on magical aptitude might not be ideal for the kingdom's future.


“...Then you are confident you can persuade me?”
“...Yes.”
“...Go ahead.”


The expressions of the First Prince's faction grew anxious.


Here we go again.
Time and again, the treacherous Second Prince had persuaded the king, silencing the First Prince's faction's opinions.


It would have been better if he had failed, but infuriatingly, the Second Prince's policies were all sailing smoothly.
It was obvious this would happen again.


“I believe these matters were indeed disposed of after rigorous examination based on tradition... but I also believe they too devoted themselves to such research for the sake of the kingdom.”
“......”
“...Just as people need tolerance, tradition too requires such generosity.”


The king began to ponder, stroking his chin at the prince's plausible words.
The ministers listened, inwardly gnashing their teeth, searching desperately for any flaw to seize upon.


“Then, even if they hold values contrasting with tradition, if we can rid them of the stigma of heresy and guide them to loyalty to the kingdom, they could surely become a future strength for the kingdom.”
“...Is that what you wish to do?”
“Yes. I intend to incorporate their research into the Royal Magitech Research Institute, which His Majesty has just granted permission for.”


The king slowly began to grasp why this bold second prince had suddenly proposed building a Magitech research institute.


Clearly, since he couldn't match his elder brother as a mage, he intended to gather those with low magical aptitude and use the new field of Magitech to boost his own standing.


It was puzzling that he, who rarely entertained such bold and risky ideas, had made such a significant move this time.
Was he aiming for something?

A deep, amused smile spread across the king's lips.


“...Very well. I grant permission.”
“......! Your Majesty! I am deeply honored!”
“But!”
“......?!”


Griphellos hurriedly bowed low at the king's firm voice, which added a condition.


“…The Magitech Research Institute must undergo regular inspections by the Arcane Veil.”
“……!”
“Under that condition, I can grant permission. What do you say?”


It meant monitoring through the Arcane Veil to ensure the research wasn't misused.
As a prince, there was nothing wrong with that.


“I am deeply honored!”
“…Very well. I will issue a separate order to the Arcane Veil.”


Griphellos' fist, clenched as he exited the audience chamber, was drenched in a clammy, cold sweat.
This crisis had passed.
From now on, he could steer matters as he wished.


“…Your Highness.”


Senior officials of the First Prince’s faction, who had just exited the audience chamber, called out to him.
When he turned, they wore blatantly displeased expressions.


“This is blatant tyranny. You must know that.”
“That is precisely why I sought His Majesty's permission.”
“…….”


They stared at each other with dry eyes, then promptly turned away.


“...I wonder what Henkepallos would say if he heard of this.”
“......”


He paid no heed to the officials' words.
Even if it wasn't them, his brother would find out eventually.


His brother's support base was that solid, as his ascension to the 8th Circle after their father was all but certain.
He knew full well there were supporters for his brother within the Arcane Veil as well.
The prince, who had gone directly to the Arcane Veil, was guided by an officer to the archives.


“Is this the place?”


Towering bookshelves lined the room, densely packed with moldy-smelling books.


“This way.”


Following the officer's lead, he arrived before a bookshelf in the left corner.


“You need to check the items on this shelf.”
“What's on the other shelves?”


The official stepped in front of the prince, who had absentmindedly glanced at the adjacent bookshelves.


“What's this?”
“...His Majesty ordered that you may only view materials related to Magitech.”


So that's how it is.
His father truly was no pushover of a king.
Meaning he mustn't touch anything unrelated to Magitech.


“If His Majesty said so...”
“Thank you for your understanding.”


Thus, under the officer's suspicious glare, he began flipping through the books.


Surprisingly, many were fascinating. As the prince briefly skimmed each one, the officer watched him suspiciously.


“...Have you seen these records before?”
“Of course. That is my job.”
“Then have you ever thought the contents within were a waste?”
“......”


The official slowly shook his head at the prince's question.


“That is not our concern.”
“...I see.”


The Arcane Veil. A professional answer.
He simply wasn't granted the authority to think about it.
His sole duty was to record and manage the gathered intelligence.
The prince began poring over the records once more.


Certainly, definitely, somewhere within these pages lay the name he sought.


-To be continued-

Just as he was about to press further on the matter, the conversation was interrupted when the waiter brought out a lavish spread filling the table.


Wingester wanted to keep talking without even picking up his cutlery, but the prince paid no mind and began eating first.


“...What? Since this table was prepared for you, eat your fill.”
“Uh... Ah... Yes. I'm deeply honored.”


Wingester, belatedly realizing he had been rude to royalty, finally focused on his meal.


Shortly after the meal ended, the prince dismissed the guard mages surrounding them with a wave of his hand.


Since he'd said it was a serious matter, it was likely not something they should hear.


“Right then, shall we get down to business?”
“......”
“No need to look at me like that. It's really not such a terrible story.”


Second Prince Griphellos, observing his gaze, realized that his usual sly, evasive tactics wouldn't win him any favor here.


He knew well that with such an upright young man, an honest, direct approach was most effective.


“I'll try to keep it as simple as possible so you can understand...”
“......?”
“...If you haven't considered your future path, would you consider joining my service?”
“...?!”


Wingester flinched at the utterly unexpected statement.


He had clearly expected to be reprimanded about the sealed magic tool, yet surprisingly, the other expressed a desire to take him under his wing.


“That... is an honor, but...”
“Right. You must be wondering why?”


His gaze shifted again, landing on the Barrett Staff protruding slightly from behind Wingester's back.
Wingester felt a chill run down his spine once more and swallowed hard.


“That staff of yours... is it? That magical artifact was quite intriguing. Would you like to study it properly under my command?”
“......!”


Did he know?
This magical artifact, the Barrett Staff, was firmly sealed by someone and had been abandoned for decades in the Academy's old storeroom. It was his grandfather's legacy.


“That is...”
“Is there something troubling you?”


Should he be honest with him? Or should he just refuse outright?
Either way was difficult.


The First Prince might be one thing, but the Prince Griphellos before him was no pushover.
Once something caught his eye, he wouldn't let it go easily.


“Hmm... Seems you find it difficult to answer?”
“...I'm sorry. I'm not sure if I should even speak about it...”


Seeing Wingester bow his head, cold sweat beading on his forehead, the prince instinctively sensed there was something seriously wrong with that magic tool.


Not a flaw in the artifact itself, but a ‘political’ problem entangled within it.


That meant Wingester, a mere academy graduate, was caught in a dilemma where speaking up was problematic, and staying silent was problematic too.


If Griphellos himself could resolve that problem, he could secure this talented young man entirely for himself.


“I see. Since this promising young talent seems to have a difficult problem, I'll look into it with all my might.”
“Th-that is...!”


That's Prince Griphellos for you.
Seeming to have grasped the very point that troubled Wingester, he rose abruptly from his seat with a look of conviction.


Then, pointing a finger at Wingester, he declared.


“I don't care for half-measures. So I want to make this clear right now.”
“……!”
“If I solve whatever problem you have with that magic tool, you'll join my service. How about it?”
“Guh...!”


Wingester bit his lip, deep in thought.
Refusing would surely bring some form of retaliation from him.
But accepting meant following Prince Griphellos, which was a hesitant prospect.


Wingester was content with modest dreams: commercializing the Barret Staff to earn money and provide his parents with a comfortable life.


Even if he aspired further, it only went as far as wanting to improve the Barret Staff's performance to make it more useful, perhaps venturing out as a mercenary or adventurer.


To him, the prince's proposal was a choice that would drag him into the future power struggles of the royal family, far removed from his own dreams.


The current king had five children, and the only two vying for the position of next crown prince were Prince Griphellos before him and the first prince, Prince Henkepallos.


“What are you agonizing over?”
“I... am not suited for politics...”
“I see... Following me seems to entangle you in politics, making you uneasy, I suppose?”


Griphellos smiled inwardly with satisfaction.
The more he observed this young man, Wingester, the more he saw the very figure he had desired.


He possessed overflowing talent: crafting a staff resembling the infamous gun that had brought the enemy nation notoriety, and perhaps even succeeding in developing a lightweight mana concentrator that could profoundly influence the kingdom's future mages.


Yet despite such talent, he possessed an upright character, pursuing only the simple dreams of an ordinary citizen, devoid of ambition or lust for power.


Griphellos slowly approached Wingester and placed a hand on his shoulder.


“I'm not saying I don't understand your predicament. I'm currently competing with my brother for the position of Crown Prince.”
“......”


The prince pulled a document bearing the king's seal from his robes and presented it before Wingester.


“What is this…?”


It was the king's authorization for establishing a Magitech research institute directly under Griphellos.


“I don't possess the same extraordinary talent as my brother, the Grand Mage. In some ways, my situation resembles that of citizens like you… those lacking aptitude.”
“…….”


Griphellos continued the conversation, trying to form a sense of kinship by emphasizing their similar circumstances.


“So, while I was studying administration and politics, I learned about Magitech a few years ago.”
“Magitech, you say.”
“Yes. It was disheartening. That such a promising technology had been suppressed at the bottom, bound by tradition until now...”
“......”
“So last week, I persuaded His Majesty and secured permission to establish this research institute. I'd like you to join us here.”


Wingester was quite shaken by the offer to be employed not as a political pawn, but as a researcher at the Magitech Research Institute the prince sought to revive.


Unlike private deals, where the risk of being swindled or having technology stolen was considerable, serving under the Second Prince, a man of formidable skill, was trustworthy.
Above all, there was the honor of being personally appointed by the prince.


“Of course, I don't intend to force you, but I must admit, your talent is tempting.”
“......”


Wingester, who had been silent, raised his hand lightly and asked a question.


“Why me?”
“?”
“The winner of the magic duel was Romulus. He also created an excellent magic tool.”


The prince shook his head at Wingester's question.


“I've studied Magitech and magic tools for years. By observing their use, I can roughly gauge the level of a magic tool.”
“……!”
“Romulus... that sword-like thing made by the youngest of the Seiz family? It's just a simple item where they shortened the handle part of a staff and enlarged the mana sphere into a sword shape.”


With just a brief glance, he had pierced through the essence of Romulus's Slash Staff.


Wingester felt cold sweat trickling down his body as he gripped the Barret Staff tightly.


“But your staff... to be honest, even I still can't figure out how it works. That's precisely why it intrigues me.”
“……!”


The prince patted the shoulder Wingester was leaning on a few times in encouragement, then said he could leave for now and called the guards back.


“Let's talk again soon. Wingester.”
“...Yes.”


*


Griphellos, having sent Wingester away, returned to the palace under the escort of the royal guard.
Several courtiers who followed him cautiously approached and relayed the discussions that had taken place while he was away from the palace.


“Understood.”


After grasping the general gist, the prince dismissed them and ordered the guard to bring Professor Koch.


Sitting face-to-face with Professor Koch, who had come, he brought up the matter he wished to confirm.


“Apologies for summoning you so suddenly. There's something I absolutely must hear from you.”
“Heh heh heh... What could Prince Griphellos possibly want from a mere mage like me...”
“Regarding a student named Wingester Mustang, it's just that...”
“......!”


Griphellos instantly noticed a faint glint of murderous intent in the old mage's eyes, and his smile deepened.


He was undoubtedly aware of something concerning Wingester.
He had already obtained the basic information from his younger sister.


“It's not bad news. There's no need to be so tense.”
“I-I'm sorry.”
“No, no, I'm the one who should apologize for bringing this up so suddenly.”


Koch cleared his throat with a “Khm.” and began speaking.


“...How much does Your Highness know...?”
“Oh...?”


The prince instantly realized Koch was hiding more than he had anticipated. He began calculating how to extract everything he desired from this seasoned mage.


“I was merely checking the Academy's collection of graduation theses to find young talent. Among them, I found an intriguing paper. Upon investigating, I learned that young man even engaged in a magic duel with the youngest of the Seiz family. So, I went to meet him myself.”
“……!”


Koch felt a secret relief.
It seemed he still didn't know about Wingester's grandfather.
Then, the matter of the magic tool—Wingester's true Achilles' heel...


“And during that duel, I saw him use an intriguing magic tool. That confirmed it. This one must be recruited by me.”


Koch's heart, which had just relaxed, began to tighten again.
Of all things, he had witnessed the Barrett Staff and taken an interest.


If he handled this poorly, not only Wingester but his entire family—and worse, Koch himself—would face severe repercussions.


“I merely sponsored a talented young man.”


If he tried to explain his relationship with Wingester, his grandfather would inevitably come up.
And once the prince heard about his grandfather, he would undoubtedly investigate him by any means necessary.


“Hmm... Is that truly all? If he's a talented student, aren't there many at the Academy? Take the youngest of the Seiz family, for instance. Quite impressive.”
“Students with exceptional mana aptitude have many excellent teachers at the Academy. I merely strive to take an interest in students who show promise among those who lack such aptitude.”
“Indeed, a commendable mindset for an educator.”
“I'm flattered.”
“So you truly have nothing further to say about this student, Wingester?”
“...Yes.”


Despite the prince continuing to press him with a meaningful gaze, Koch calmly bowed his head.
The prince sensed he was no pushover and decided he needed to change tactics.


“I see... Then I suppose I must go see His Majesty.”
“May I ask why Your Highness has such interest in that student?”
“...I wish to appoint him to a position of trust, but it seems there's some issue I'm unaware of. He just hemmed and hawed, unable to give a clear answer.”


If contact had already been made with Wingester, the situation would become far more complicated.
Koch's heart began to race.


“In what capacity do you intend to appoint him...”
“His Majesty has just granted permission to establish the Royal Institute of Magitech. I've been reviewing the Academy's graduation theses for years now, seeking to discover talented Magitech engineers.”


At first glance, it sounded tempting, but there was a crucial problem.
Wingester's grandfather, the originator of the Barrett Staff, had been labeled a subversive by the current king's judgment decades ago and ‘disposed of’.


Given the nature of the matter, it was handled secretly to prevent the repercussions from reaching his family.
If this fact were to surface during the prince's discussions with the king about recruiting Wingester...


“That... is good news for Wingester, I suppose...”


The prince was certain.
Koch was growing anxious.
The seasoned Archmage's eyes were trembling faintly.


“Indeed. That is why I intend to petition His Majesty for permission to review the records of the Arcane Veil.”
"Ah, the Arcane Veil...?!


Gasping for breath, Koch's breathing became irregular. Griphellos wore a victor's smile.


“Now, let's confirm one more thing. Merely out of an old woman's concern, mind you.”
“……!”
“...Regarding Wingester, is there... anything else you know?”


-To be continued-

Wingester gritted his teeth, completely unwrapping the cloth and pointing the Barrett Staff at him.


“Armor alone won't stop this...!”
“Hmph.”


Flutter.


Romulus also unraveled the bundle of cloth he had strapped to his back.
Inside was something he hadn't expected at all...


“...A sword...?!
”Yes. A Slash Staff."


A sword with a long magic stone used as its entire blade, featuring a large cylinder resembling a mana concentrator mounted on the hilt.
It was essentially a staff transformed into sword form.


“...You've made something interesting.”
“Heh, you won't find it interesting once you've tasted it.”
“As the old saying goes, ‘The sword is mightier than the fist, and the gun is mightier than the sword’!”


Thwack!


Wingester didn't hesitate, firing a ball of flame straight at his head.


“How pathetic!”


Romulus immediately swung his Slash Staff downwards.


“Lightning Slash-!”


Following the blade's trajectory, a heavy lightning strike accompanied by intense sparks sliced the fireball clean in two with ease and surged toward Wingester.


“?!
”How's that! This is the difference in skill between you and me!"
“Guh...!”


He belatedly activated the defensive magic embedded in his gauntlet, but...


Zzzzzzz-!


“...!?”


The intense lightning strike sliced through the gauntlet and Wingester himself, obliterating even the defensive magic he had managed to cast.


The shattered gauntlet fell to the floor. Wingester, bleeding from his severed wrist and trembling from the lightning's shock, realized.


Romulus's sword-shaped staff was fundamentally different from Wingester's Barrett Staff.


Unlike Wingester, who entrusted his entire combat magic activation to his Barrett Staff to compensate for his low mana aptitude, his Slash Staff was, after all, just a simple wand.


Meaning the magic he just took was, without a doubt, developed specifically for that wand by Romulus himself, who was chanting and casting it directly.


“What... the...!”
“That magic tool of yours was clearly designed to rapidly fire off fourth-circle spells, right?”
“......!”


Romulus flashed a victorious smile.


“...Mine is fifth-circle.”
“Gah... Damn...!”
" And one more thing. The ‘Slash Magic’ I just cast... that's the culmination of my graduation thesis—it slices through all kinds of anti-magic treatments and defensive spells, along with the caster, and attacks."


Wingester stared down at his gauntlet, lying pitifully on the floor.
That meant Wingester had no chance of winning in a direct confrontation.


“…Surrender, Wingester. You have no chance.”
“…….”


Romulus finished speaking and stood comfortably, his Slash Staff gripped firmly.
Wingester was no longer a threat to him.


“Keep trying. I hope you surprise me in our next duel.”
“...I'm not some damned motivator for you...!”


Wingester was genuinely enraged.
Gritting his teeth, he glared at Romulus, unleashing all the venom he held in his eyes.


“...That's not what I meant.”
“But that's exactly what it means!”
“......!”


Wingester had read ad nauseam in his favorite collection of hero tales that murder holds no justification.
But that was a separate issue.


Wingester's own pride, his dignity, was being threatened.


“Romulus…!”
“…….”
“I will… kill you!”


Wingester pulled something from his waist pouch and began sprinting.


It was clear he had no chance in a direct confrontation. Under these circumstances, exploiting his opening to inflict a fatal wound was his only option.


“I told you it was useless!”
“Dieeeee!”


Clank.
Romulus saw it.


Wingester had removed the concentrator from his Barrett Staff, then inserted the heavy-looking object he'd taken from his pocket—three concentrators arranged in a triangle.


“You…!”
“How about this!!”


Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!


Without a moment's pause, three rapid shots aimed at vital points.


The barrel glowed red-hot as if screaming, but it didn't matter.
No matter how powerful that Slash Magic was, a single cast couldn't block all of them.


"... Foolish boy.“
”……!“
”Lightning Slash… Triple Fold!"


Swish! Swish! Whack!


As if waiting for it, Romulus sliced through all the magic bullets in three consecutive strikes, shattering them and rendering them useless.
Moreover, that slash charged straight towards Wingester.


“Triple Chain…!”
“…….”


He never expected that magic to be used as a Triple Chain.
Wingester gritted his teeth and drew another trump card from behind his waist.


The sample blueprint Grandfather had brought from the Maritime Kingdom, the part attached below the barrel.


Click.


It snapped precisely into the groove prepared in advance on the new Barrett Staff. It was a sharp bayonet.


“GRAAAAAAARGH!!”


After using every physical enhancement spell he possessed, he additionally wrapped mana around the blade of the bayonet and swung it.


Clang!


He barely parried and deflected two slashes with the bayonet.


But...


Thwack!


“Guhh...!!”


Wingester couldn't react in time to the third slash. His abdomen was sliced open, and he was flung to the floor.
Just as he forced his paralyzed body to rise, a cold sensation touched Wingester's hair.


“......”
“That's enough. Wingester. You've lost.”
“...Do you think... I'll... give up...!”
“......”


Gripping the drawn blade, he tried to force himself up, but his paralyzed legs refused to obey.


“Why are you being so stubborn? Is your life worth so little?”
“You... you're the one to talk about the value of my life?!”
“……!”
"I can't... lose to a young master like you! "


Wingester finally rose, clutching his trouser hem, and though staggering, gripped his Barrett Staff firmly.


He absolutely could not lose.


The Barrett Staff in his hand held not only Wingester's own will, but also the life, honor, and pride of his grandfather, whom he respected beyond measure.


To lose while wielding this was something Wingester could never accept.


“What the hell is driving you like this...?”
“It's none of your business... someone like you. . .”
“…You won't yield even if it kills you?”
“Of course not…!”


After watching Wingester like that for a moment, he shook his head and sighed.
Then, he lightly planted the blade of his Slash Staff into the ground and crossed his arms.


“...I lost.”
“What...?!?”
“So, let's call this duel my defeat.”
“Don't be ridiculous!”


Wingester, enraged, staggered forward and grabbed his collar.


“You... you intend to insult me!”
“No. Not at all.”
“Then why the hell...!”
“......”


Romulus sighed and avoided his gaze.


“...Because I'm not prepared to ‘kill’ you.”
“......!”
“Clearly, if this continues, you'll never give up and keep attacking me. Right up until the moment you truly die....”
“......”
“I have no desire to fight you that far. So, I concede defeat.”


Hearing Romulus' explanation, Wingester gritted his teeth.


This bastard is trying to maintain his stance as a rival of goodwill, even against an opponent who seeks to kill him.


“...Damn bastard.”
“......”
“...It's a draw.”
“What?”
“This duel... is a draw. A draw that might as well be an utter defeat for me.”
“......!”


Romulus helped Wingester, who had finally collapsed to the floor, back up.


“...Sorry.”
“Don't apologize. Damn you...!”
“......”
“Next time, I'll definitely break that pride of yours...”
“Anytime. I welcome your challenge whenever you throw it down.”


The princess, who had been watching the two from afar, cautiously approached.
She had been worried, but it seemed things had been settled, barely.
She was secretly relieved that Wingester hadn't stepped onto a dangerous path, thanks to Romulus.


Clap. Clap. Clap.


“...An excellent duel. And excellent magical tools.”


From behind a tree trunk a short distance away, someone emerged, applauding.
That figure, with the blue-silver hair characteristic of the royal family, swaying slightly in the wind...


“…Griphellos…Brother?”
“Elmaread. It’s been a while.”


The one who stepped out was the Second Prince, Griphellos, currently vying with the First Prince for the position of next Crown Prince within the kingdom.


Beside Griphellos, Romulus's father also accompanied them, dressed in full uniform.


“Ah, Father?”
“...You did well, son.”
“......!”


Romulus's face twisted as if he might cry, but he immediately realized he was in front of the princess and prince. He gritted his teeth and held back his tears.
His heart was pounding with emotion, having finally received praise from his father after being treated like a good-for-nothing all this time.


“Romulus. If it's alright, I have something important to discuss with Wingester... Would it be acceptable if I took him away for a moment?”


Griphellos gestured to Wingester, seemingly interested in him, indicating he would take him away.
Wingester forced himself upright, supported by another, and faced the prince.


“May I ask why you wish to take me...?”
“...I thought you'd already know.”


Wingester felt a chill run down his spine.
The prince's gaze was fixed precisely on the Barrett Staff in his hand.


Wingester swallowed hard and cautiously hid the Barrett Staff behind his back.


“Well then, I can assure you it’s not bad news. Won’t you come with me?”
“…Is that… an order…?”
“No. It’s a ‘suggestion’.”


The prince's gaze implied that refusing to follow him now would lead to greater trouble later.
Though renowned as a tactician, rumors suggested he possessed a ruthless side, willing to use any means to achieve his ends.


It was called a suggestion, but refusing would surely bring misfortune.


“...Understood.”
“A wise young man. Does anyone object?”


No one present dared refuse the Second Prince's will.
The prince ordered his two escort mages to support Wingester and bring him forward.


*


After descending the mountain, they headed to an upscale restaurant near the palace.


“Why here of all places…?”


Prince Griphellos sat across from him, leisurely reading the menu.


“Your Highness…?”
“Would you join me for a meal first?”
“……!”
“I hope it suits your taste….”
“Why would you suddenly invite someone like me….”


His counterpart was the Second Prince, renowned for his cunning.
For such a man to invite him to dine without preamble meant he surely desired something from Wingester.


“I vaguely recall the magic tool you used.”
“……!”


Wingester, feeling burdened, rose to avoid him, but his body faltered and he sat back down.


“Hehehe, a wise young man indeed.”
“...Gulp....”
“I'm sorry to bring this up when you're injured and in pain. But I wanted to handle things before word spreads.”


Though he couldn't read his intentions, his instincts warned of danger.
He wanted to refuse the meal and storm out immediately, but the other already held his vital points.


The initiative was firmly in his hands.


-To be continued-

The graduation ceremony concluded without incident.
A golden medal, awarded to the student who submitted the best thesis, dangled from Wingester's neck beneath his academic cap.


No sooner had the ceremony ended than representatives from several prominent guilds within the kingdom began gathering around Wingester.


Since the graduates' theses were bound together and published annually throughout the entire kingdom, Wingester's name was already known to them.


“Are you by any chance that Wingester fellow? I'm from the sales department of the Primag Trading Company...”
“Hey, no cutting in line! We from the Akra Trading Company were waiting for Wingester first!”
“Hey, everyone, keep order! He's a student, isn't he?! Do you intend to make a spectacle of yourselves in front of the young man!”


At Koch's sudden outburst, they belatedly shuffled back into line, looking sheepish.


Wingester, though reluctant, had no choice but to proceed with the formalities: exchanging greetings with the merchants and receiving their business cards one by one.


Their interest, needless to say, was in the lightweight mana concentrator Wingester had submitted in his thesis.


“Young Wingester. We'd pay any royalty you ask. Please, bring your exceptional technology to our Akra Trading Company...”


As this same script repeated with different people, Wingester felt a slight surge of irritation.
But he couldn't just walk out in front of Professor Koch watching nearby, so he had to endure it.


Only after greeting dozens of guild employees and filling his bag with business cards could he finally be released.


“Haah...”
“Ha ha ha! That's great, Wingester!”
“It's not great at all...”
“Isn't it a joy that the people of the kingdom value your skills so highly?”


Seeing Koch pat Wingester's shoulder encouragingly, the rising irritation subsided somewhat.


“So, what are your plans for that technique going forward?”
“......”


He didn't want to give it away to anyone, if possible.
It was a technique Wingester had painstakingly researched for years within the academy.
Its very first beneficiaries should be its developer, Wingester, and his family.


"Well, Wingester, I trust you'll handle it wisely. ”
“…Yes.”
“But those merchants who just came to greet you aren’t fools either. They’ll desperately cling to you, begging for the technology.”
“…….”
“Well, if you run into trouble, give me a call.”


With that, Koch walked back to his carriage.
Wingester watched him go, lost in thought about what lay ahead,


when suddenly.


“Senior-! Congratulations on graduating!”


Berett, who had appeared beside him, grabbed his arm and bounced up and down excitedly.


“Ah. Berett.”
“I'll be following you next year, after all.”
“Right. Work hard.”
“Oh! By the way, if things keep going like this, the Magitech Club will disband. What should we do?”


That was true.
The club, which had operated with minimal members from the start, would lose Wingester, Romulus, and Haixian, who were graduating this year.
If things continued like this, the club wouldn't be able to survive due to lack of members.


“...Berett.”
“?”
“There are probably still quite a few students with low mana aptitude hiding away in the academy.”
“......”
“For now, Berett can take the lead.”
“...Is that okay?”


Wingester thought for a moment, then shook his head.


“Zessler's a bit clueless outside his own research, so Berett's the right person for it.”
“Hehe...”


Pleased by the compliment, she beamed and waved goodbye.
She now had to go gather students to keep the club going.


Turning suddenly to look at the entrance to the auditorium where the graduation ceremony had been held, Wingzester saw several soldiers clad in the ceremonial robes of the Royal Guard Mage Corp gathered, talking to Romulus.


They were surely trying to recruit him into their respective units.


“That guy's got it made.”


For the first time, Wingester felt a twinge of envy toward Romulus.


Wingester himself would be hounded by large merchant guilds eager to acquire his skills, no matter which path he chose, leaving him with a headache.
Meanwhile, Romulus only needed to become a member of the prestigious and well-paid Royal Guard Mage Corp.


Wingester quickly shook his head.
Looking at it the other way, it meant Romulus had no other future.
That guy had no other possibilities from the start.


He could only think about that, only choose that.


“...So I'm the one with far more freedom, then.”


From afar, Romulus watched Wingester make his way home.


A man whose talent made him utterly unbeatable.
A guy who, despite clearly being superior in every way, gave no impression of ever being defeated.


But that too would be overturned tomorrow.


“Look forward to it, Wingester…!”


Romulus, his academic gown draped over his back, was fiddling with something wrapped in cloth behind him, something long enough to surpass his own height, his fighting spirit burning brightly.


*


The next day.


The duel site was set at the very place where the two had clashed years ago over the Berett kidnapping incident.
This was at Romulus's request, reflecting his strong intent to avenge himself against Wingester.


“You're here.”


Romulus had arrived first, sitting on a rock waiting.


But his attire was peculiar.


“...What are you thinking?”
“What?”
“You're a mage. So why...”
“...Why am I wearing armor?”


Saying this, Romulus grinned, as if showing off, and spun around once, displaying the armor he wore, complete with a short cape.


“Doesn't it suit me?”
“I'm asking what the hell you were thinking when you put on that outfit.”


Romulus just smiled silently, offering no answer to the question.


“...I'll find out when we clash, is that it?”
“...Yeah.”


He didn't know exactly what it was, but it definitely didn't seem like it would be as easy as before.


Wingester thought he'd done well to bring the new Barrett Staff, thickly wrapped in cloth, strapped to his back. Just as he was about to pull it out,


Thud.


From behind a tree several meters above, someone who shouldn't have been there appeared.


“……!”
“Well, how should I put it… it seems you ignored our opinion.”
“Hello, Wingester.”


Not at all hello.
Cold sweat trickled down Wingester's forehead.
He couldn't pull this out where she was standing.


“Why?”
“...Because I don't want to see the two of you kill each other.”


Wingester gritted his teeth silently.
As if reading his thoughts, she answered immediately.


“Why are you so certain? Romulus isn't the type to kill anyone...”
“...Because I'm worried about you.”
“......!”
“If things continue like this, Wingester, you'll surely do something you'll regret.”


Wingester's eyebrows knitted in displeasure as he scowled.
Even if she was royalty, what part of him had she seen to make such a confident statement?


“I am not that foolish.”
“...Then why is there such anger in your eyes?”
“......”


The princess shook her head quietly.


“Wingester. I forbid you to enter this duel harboring anger. in my name as the Princess.”
“Guh…!”
“Please, at least here….”
“That’s impossible.”


Faced with Wingester's outright refusal, Romulus tried to leap to his feet, but the princess blocked him and looked down at Wingester with sorrowful eyes.


“…….”
“...I beg you. Wingester.”
“You must know what Romulus did, right?”
“……!”
“My anger holds not a shred of falsehood. Princess. Please return.”


Finally, the princess bit her lip, seeming to deliberate, before delivering the decisive line to Wingester.


“Then I shall ask you. Do you intend to... kill Romulus?”
“What?!”


Romulus, listening nearby, flinched and looked down at Wingester.


Though their start had been rocky, they had been participating in club activities together and considered themselves friendly rivals.
Yet the princess's words made it clear that was nothing but Romulus's delusion.


“......”


Wingester said nothing, merely offering a casual smile.


“Wingester...”
“...Do I seem like that kind of person to you?”


The princess, choking back emotion, swallowed hard and nodded.


“...Yes.”
“......”
“Wingester...!”


It seemed the princess possessed some talent for discerning people's hearts.
That she could pierce through Wingester's own thoughts with such precision.


“...Anyway, Your Highness. Please return. A magic duel is no child's play.”
“It doesn't matter. I'm a magician capable of protecting myself.”
“......”
“Or is it because something has happened that you cannot show me?”


The more they spoke, the more Wingester found himself drawn into it.
Finally, ignoring her, he stood silently at his position, beginning to fiddle with and inspect his magic tools.


“...Begin.”
“Wait. Wingester.”
“Why?”
“...I'd like you to answer the princess's question.”


Romulus wore an expression of unprecedented seriousness.
He had to confirm the true intentions of this man, whom he had always considered a good rival and friend.


Because depending on his answer, the nature of this duel would be turned upside down.


“......”
“Wingester! Answer me! What am I to you?!”
“Romulus...”


Wingester gritted his teeth.
Honestly, his thoughts about him weren't fully sorted out yet.


He was definitely an annoying guy, but...


“...You see me as a rival, but that's a serious miscalculation.”
“……!”
“You see... I could only fight you on equal terms after I resolved to ‘kill you’.”
“...What?”
“To bridge the gap between our starting points, that was the only way.”


Only then did the princess understand why Wingester had been so fiercely determined.


For the one without to bring down the one with, they must throw everything they have at it, by any means necessary.


That was how vast the gap between them truly was.


“Was it a few years ago... Back then, thanks to you doing that stupid thing of kidnapping Berett, it was easier to steel my resolve.”
“Guh...!”
“But now, that's gone. You're purely burning with a competitive spirit, seeing me as a rival...”
“Yeah, it's different now. Because you beat me.”
“That's what's so terribly wrong.”
“So what the hell are you talking about?!”
“...I didn't win.”
“What?!”
“In that moment, I truly intended to ‘kill’ you.”
“……!”


Wingester, seemingly resolved, unwrapped the Barrett Staff from its cloth.


“And you're ‘alive’ now.”
“…….”
“At that point, I lost to you.”
“Gah…!”
“So, all this time, you've been running around saying you'd surpass me. From my perspective, that was quite a nuisance.”


The princess bit her lip, her eyes fixed on the two of them.
She didn't know what would happen if they clashed now.
If things got too extreme, she was prepared to throw herself in to stop them.


“Wingester…!”
“Come at me. Romulus. Today… I’ll finally put you to rest.”
“You mean it…?”
“…Yes. Finishing what we couldn’t that day… here would be fitting.”


-To be continued-

The fruits of the research were finally becoming visible.
Going beyond simply using silk instead of mithril, they coated the silk with a thin layer of mithril. This began to produce performance that would make conventional concentrators weep.


Sssssss-


Though the rustling sound of fabric each time it activated tickled the ears in a peculiar way, this would drastically reduce the weight of mages' wands.


“Coating the thread with mithril...”


Wingester gazed at the completed thesis, a triumphant smile spreading across his face.
This could cause a major stir throughout the entire kingdom.
If he gave the production blueprints to his father and had them mass-produced for sale, it would likely become a great source of income for the shop.


“Berett. Thank you so much.”


Berett, who had been organizing the bundles of mithril-coated silk beside him, seemed slightly startled and fidgeted nervously.


“Oh, it's nothing... Your research is incredibly interesting, and it's been a great experience for me too.”
“Next year is your turn, berett. Work hard.”
“Yes! I'll do research that will surprise you too, Senior!”


Seeing her eyes shine, Wingester felt reassured.
Between the matter with Romulus and Wingester himself, being a half-blood pursuing upper-level courses at the academy wasn't exactly ideal.


With low mana aptitude, earning practical skills points was nearly impossible, and even theory proved difficult.


The faculty barely gave such students the minimum passing grade, practically pushing them aside and ignoring them.
In this environment, simply learning and researching properly was a major ordeal.


“Let's go submit it to the Magitech professor.”


Tucking the completed, thick thesis—the size of a book—under my arm, I left the lab.


As I exited the lab building and was just heading toward the professors' building, I ran into Romulus, who was returning empty-handed, presumably having already submitted his work.

“Hey. Going to submit now?”
“Yeah. Looks like you've already finished submitting?”
“Yeah. Professor Koch praised me.”
“……!”


The fact that he'd submitted to Professor Koch—renowned for never giving lenient evaluations—and even received praise meant Romulus must have conducted some ingenious research of his own.


That self-assured look on Romulus's face right now was definitely not just bluff.


“About that courtesy thing, can we do it the day after graduation?”
“...Sure.”


Just as the two were glaring at each other fiercely, burning with competitive spirit, someone emerged from the lab building, spotted them, and approached.


“...What were you two discussing?”
“......?”
“...Ah.”


When they turned to look, standing there was the Third Princess, wrapped in her graduation thesis like silk—slightly thinner than Wingester, but undeniably present.


“Y-Your Highness...!”
“......!”
“The Princess?!”


Seeing the two male students hastily bowing, berett belatedly bowed as well.


The princess waved her hand dismissively at the three of them,


“It's fine. Here, I'm just a student too. If you bow so excessively...”
“But, Princess, showing disrespect to a member of the royal family is a grave offense. Please understand...”


Romulus responded smoothly, then gestured toward the professors' building with an arm extended, indicating his intention to escort her.


Watching this, the princess calmly shook her head slightly and said,


“It's fine, Romulus. I can go on my own.”
“Ah...”
“More importantly, what were you two discussing just now?”


At the princess's question, Romulus flinched, averting his gaze. Wingester, as always, moved his feet as if preparing to head toward the professor's quarters with his usual slightly insolent attitude.


Romulus blocked Wingester's path, and Wingester, seemingly annoyed, pressed his forehead against Romulus's in irritation, his fighting spirit ignited.


“Move. I'm in a hurry.”
“The princess is asking you a question. At least talk it out before you go.”
“You can do it.”
“Senior?!”


Only after noticing berett's anxious look beside him did he let out a small sigh before turning to face the princess.


“Talk...?”


The moment he tried to speak, it seemed like it would only cause headaches, so he racked his brain for excuses,


“...No lies. Both of you. Please tell me the truth properly.”
“......!”


Her clear eyes met theirs, as if she were looking right into them.


Finally, Romulus opened his mouth, then clenched his teeth and slowly began to speak.


“...After the graduation ceremony ended, the very next day, I promised Wingester we would face each other in a magic duel once more.”


Hesitation.


A flicker of unease crossed the princess's previously composed expression.
She already knew from reports that their previous magic duel had escalated to quite extreme circumstances.


For two people who hated each other so intensely to duel again meant this time, blood would surely be spilled.


“You two. Isn't that a rather hasty decision? You're both still young. Please think it over more carefully...”


Wingester looked at the anxious princess as if he didn't understand what she was saying, while Romulus immediately seemed to grasp her unease and waved his hands dismissively.


“Ah, this time it's not like last time. This magic duel is purely me challenging Wingester, a way to measure our respective levels as magicians...”


Only then did the princess relax her expression. She looked at Wingester, as if to confirm the truth.


“…….”
“Is it true?”
“Wingester.”


Romulus stood beside her, glaring sternly, as if demanding a proper answer.


“…It's true.”


Only then did the princess breathe a sigh of relief, her hand falling from her chest.


“What a relief. I was worried you two had gotten so heated you were going to fight to the death...”
“Hardly. Wingester and I are proper rivals now, unlike back then. We won't do that again. Right?”


Romulus nudged his shoulder, seeking agreement, and Wingester chuckled softly.


“...I wonder about that.”
“Hey!”
“Haha. Just kidding. I don't want to lose to you, of all people.”


Convinced the two no longer harbored any lingering resentment, the princess seemed to make a decision. She drew her staff, bearing the royal crest, from her waist and tapped it lightly on the floor.


“...Princess?”
“......?”
“I've made up my mind.”
“?”
"... I will serve as the official witness for your magical duel.“
”What?!“
”?!"


Caught completely off guard by this unexpected declaration, Romulus waved his hands frantically, stammering incoherently, while Wingester froze in place, speechless.


Indeed, the princess's character left no doubt about her fairness, and as a member of the royal family, she was the ideal candidate to serve as the official witness.


Having witnessed their actions, she might even consider them strong candidates when recruiting talent later.


“Th-that, that's too flattering...!”
“......”


Unlike the flustered Romulus, Wingester averted his gaze, his feelings deeply conflicted.


Romulus might be one thing, but Wingester's Barrett Staff was rooted in his grandfather's research, which had been firmly sealed away.
Was it truly safe to show such a thing to a member of the royal family?


Of course, there was the option of fighting without using the Barrett Staff.
But among the magical tools Wingester could currently create, the Barrett Staff was the only one truly useful in combat.


The opponent was none other than the youngest of the Seiz family, a talent so dense it was overwhelming even for Wingester.
A powerful orthodox mage, at least a 5th Circle Master level, truly a professional combat mage in both name and reality.


Without the Barrett Staff, he simply couldn't face him.


“Why such a sudden decision….”
“Because there are aspects where the two of them have intense feelings toward each other.”
“……!”


The princess was clearly looking at Wingester as she spoke.
From the very moment she first met him, the princess had sensed something in Wingester that should never be felt in children his age.


The same sensation she'd occasionally felt from assassins or attempted kidnappers in the past.
Desperation, resolve, and murderous intent.


“Kuhhh...”


Though only a select few in the royal household knew, the princess possessed one hidden talent.
Whenever she locked eyes with another person, their true intentions would manifest as an image in her mind.


Romulus's image had changed significantly since their first meeting. Unlike before, the current him evoked the form of a young male lion, its thick mane billowing in the wind.


Turning her head to meet Wingester's gaze with difficulty...


Grrrrrrr...!


“…….”


A shabby alleyway.
A wounded jackal, cornered at a dead end, baring its teeth and growling, came to her mind.


If things continued like this, Wingester clearly wouldn't be heading in a good direction.
It was the same image she'd had of him since their first meeting.


“Romulus. Will you agree to have me serve as your notary?”
“……!”


Romulus looked momentarily flustered before nodding.
When she then looked back toward Wingester,


“I refuse.”
“Wingester, you?!”
“Senior?”
“…Could you tell me your reason?”
“…….”


Wingester silently shook his head and began walking toward the faculty building.
It wasn't a story worth explaining to her.


“Wingester, you really?!”
"… Romulus. I don't know about you, but I have my own reasons.“
”……!“
”I don't like showing my abilities in front of the princess or other dignitaries."


Wingester took berett away like that, and Romulus, worried the princess might be heartbroken, looked back at her.


“P-Princess! I'm truly sorry. I should have explained better...”
“…It's fine, Romulus.”
“……?”


Contrary to his expectations, the princess wore a slightly mischievous smile, as if she'd caught him off guard.


“I clearly made a ‘declaration’.”
“Huh?”
“When I said I'd made up my mind, I wasn't ‘requesting’ it of the two of you. I was unilaterally ‘declaring’ that I would do it.”
“Eh...?”
“So, in truth, your consent is meaningless.”


Only then did Romulus seem to grasp something, cold sweat beading on his forehead.


“N-no way...”
“Yes. Regardless of your intentions, I will appear where you two are that day. As a notary.”
“......!”


For the first time, Romulus thought this princess was scary.
He'd always thought her personality was just calm and innocent, but unexpectedly, she had a devilishly cunning side.


-To be continued-

Wingester stared blankly at the sudden proposal, and the lord chuckled softly, waving his hand dismissively.

“Ah. Was it too abrupt after all?”
“Ah, well... how should I put it...”
“If it feels burdensome, you may decline. I never meant to force the issue.”
“......”

Though he said that, the head's eyes seemed unwilling to let him go easily.

“I truly appreciate the offer, but I'm not quite ready to consider something like that yet...”
“Ha ha! I see. Well then, if the opportunity arises again in the future, I'll propose it once more.”

Of course.
Wingester sensed, though he couldn't quite place why, that the head of the Seiz family was determined to recruit him somehow.

As a pragmatist, the head of the Seiz family didn't want to see such a talented young man wasting away in a mere magic tool shop, nor did he want him to catch the eye of some other official and be recruited by them.

Above all, the head valued the fact that keeping him close could stimulate Romulus's competitive spirit and draw out his talent.

“Thank you.”
“Not at all. Just... remember that I do not despise you as others do.”
“......”
“I hold your talent in very high regard. If you wish to pursue your ambitions, I intend to support you fully.”

Wingester bowed deeply in respect.
Regardless of the head's true motives, the fact that the head of the Seiz family held him in high esteem was gratifying.

“Continue striving alongside our Romulus.”
“...Yes. For me too, Romulus is someone I wish to surpass.”

*

The year changed, and Wingester reached the time to prepare his graduation thesis.
Romulus also appeared at the club much less frequently, preparing something of his own.

At berett's strong request, Wingester had taken her on as an assistant and was writing a thesis on developing a lightweight concentrator.

“I never thought this would actually work...”

He surveyed the newly built lightweight concentrator placed atop the completed blueprints, savoring the sense of accomplishment.

Adding copper to the circuits around the magic stone proved effective. Instead of the usual spiral or lattice structures, they based it on a spiral design but densely packed the circuits into a hexagonal, tilted honeycomb pattern.

While they couldn't drastically reduce the weight as much as desired, they managed to cut the volume down to about half the original size.

The weight issue could also be solved by researching lighter materials for the internal circuits.

Together with berett, they tried various approaches to find that material.

Currently, they were experimenting with wire made by twisting brass around mithril, then feeding it into a device that drew out the wire, using this brass-coated mithril wire to further reduce weight.

“Hmm... done.”

He placed the completed new concentrator on the scale, set the previously made concentrator on the other side, and checked if the weight had decreased.
The scales, which wobbled briefly, indicated the newly made concentrator was slightly lighter, but even this didn't satisfy him.

“So this is the limit with metal materials after all.”

Wingester had been feeling skeptical about metal materials themselves for some time now.
Mithril was a relatively light metal, but weaving high-density mana circuits into the concentrator meant it ended up being surprisingly heavy for its volume.
Yet, using other lighter metals wasn't an easy solution either; metals as mana-friendly as mithril were rare.

“If only there was a better material...”

After pondering for a moment, Wingester went to find Haixian.
She was still in the club room, pulling bundles of herbs wrapped in cloth from a cauldron filled with a jumble of herbs and squeezing them out.

“Hey.”
“Wingester? What brings you here?”
“How's your research going?”
“Yeah. This is almost finished.”

With a grunt, she gave one last powerful squeeze. As she shook the wrung-out cloth bundle over a plate, a dark green pill that looked somehow dangerous plopped onto it.

“...Poison?”
“Of course not. I'm from the White Witch family, remember?”
“Ah. Right.”
“I'm making a pill that permanently increases the user's mana pool. This is the fifth prototype.”
“That's fascinating research.”

For people like Wingester, with low mana aptitude and consequently low mana pools, if that pill were properly completed and commercialized, it alone could create new opportunities.

"Honestly, the cost-efficiency is low. But... once the manufacturing formula is established, medicinal farms will increase their supply of ingredients, which will help with commercialization.“
”So, stable pricing and supply will become possible, meaning long-term use will ensure efficiency... is that it?“
”That's the idea."

Just as she was about to pick up the pill, Wingester reached out and grabbed it first.

“What are you doing?”
“Can I try it?”
“Like I said, it's still a prototype in the trial-and-error phase. Are you prepared for potential side effects?”
“...Because I trust you.”
“You idiot!”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than Wingester shoved it in his mouth and started chewing.
But before he could even swallow it, he regretted his decision.

“Guh…?!”

At first, the taste was refreshing, so he shrugged it off. But the moment it mixed with his saliva while chewing, an indescribably foul, rotten-like scent filled his mouth, along with a bitter, astringent taste that felt like his tongue was being torn off.

Unable to spit it out, he gritted his teeth and forced himself to chew and swallow...

“Guh... Ugh...!”

His stomach felt like something heavy was pressing down on it, throbbing painfully...!

“I'm... I'm okay...!?”

Haixian looked down at me with concern from beside me.

“H-Haixian…!”
“What's wrong?!”
“You, you… How can you normally eat this stuff as an experiment and still be fine…?!”

Watching Wingester writhe in agony, she silently shook her head and said,

“Witches basically have some level of poison resistance, and since we're treated like guinea pigs for all sorts of things constantly from a young age, we get used to it.”
“……!!”

Thinking what an incredible upbringing that must have been, Wingester staggered out of the club room.
Because if she didn't vomit it out in the bathroom right away, she felt like her stomach would explode.

After wrestling with the drug's side effects in the bathroom for a while, Wingester wiped the cold sweat from his brow with a handkerchief and barely made it back to the club room.

“Phew….”
“You went through a lot. Is your head clearer now?”
“…Not sure.”
“Then I guess it's a failure again….”

Wingester watched her shake her head regretfully, then belatedly remembered why he was here.

“Come to think of it, I have one question...”
“What is it?”

Wingester asked her in detail about non-metallic materials that were easy to process, lightweight, and good at holding mana.

“Hmm... If that's what you mean...”
“......?”

After a moment's thought, she snapped her fingers and said,

“There is.”
“What material?”
“...Silk. High silk is the best among them.”

Silk is commonly produced within the Magic Kingdom as it's a primary material for robes.
But high silk was a different story.

It was a premium silk exclusive to nations on the Eastern Continent, considered a luxury item even within those countries.

“High silk might be overkill. Regular silk is easy to obtain... but it's worth testing.”

Wingester's eyes lit up as if he'd found the answer.

“Thanks, Haixian. Keep up the good research.”
“Wait a moment!”
“?”

Haixian stopped him and spent some time touching various parts of Wingester's body, placing a hand on his forehead, and so on.

“Hmm... No noticeable changes. Your head really didn't feel clearer or anything?”
“...Not sure.”
“Hmmph. Got it. Keep up the research.”

Stepping out of the club room like that, he saw Zessler walking towards the club room.

“Hey there. Zessler.”
“Wingester? What brings you here?”
“I wanted to ask Haixian something.”
“Ah. I'm just on my way to get my maintenance tools.”
“So, how's that new propeller project coming along?”

He shook his head at Wingester's question.

“Nope. I've already wrecked two... It's no easy challenge.”
“Still, completing it would be a major achievement, right?”
“That's exactly why I'm taking it on. Wingester, make sure your research succeeds too.”
“Right. Hang in there.”

Wingester headed straight out onto the street.
Graduating students could roam freely, regardless of class schedules, if needed for their graduation thesis work.

Heading to Witches' Street, the best place to find silk, Wingester soon entered a wholesaler selling various materials.

“Oh my. A student, are you? Looking for something in particular?”

A plump, middle-aged witch shopkeeper emerged from the corner of the store, greeting him with a smile.

“Do you have any high-quality silk bundles?”
“Of course we do. Are you weaving a new robe?”
“No. I need the thread for an experiment….”

Despite his avoidance of details, she didn't mind, pulling out several bundles of silk dyed in various colors from a display case.

“Which one will you take?”
“Hmm... I'll take the white one, please.”

After buying five skeins of thread from the shop and putting them in her bag, she returned to her laboratory.
She conveyed the suggestion to try silk to Berett, who was deep in thought while organizing the results of tests on various materials on the blackboard.

“Silk definitely has potential. But...”
“?”
“Silk is a soft fiber, right? How can we create a precise hexagonal structure with this?”
“......”

Wingester, realizing that part was indeed problematic, also fell into deep thought.
Moreover, its softness made it difficult to secure it firmly to the core magic stone.

After exploring various solutions, they improved the structure by carving grooves into the magic stone itself for the circuitry, allowing the silk to simply be inserted into these grooves.
The result was the most ideal form: the weight was reduced to just that of the magic stone, with the silk contributing almost none.

“Now, if this just activates properly…!”

Wingester fervently hoped as he placed the metal cover over the concentrator.
Success here would mean a major innovation in mana concentrator materials.

Compared to expensive and relatively hard-to-find mithril, or even silver which offered decent value, silk was a very cheap material since it was also used in robes and such.
If it became certain that concentrators could be made from silk, the price of mana concentrators could be drastically reduced.

Click.

The cover was fully attached and mounted on the test stand.
Berett watched with hopeful eyes, and Wingester calmly activated the mana.

Sssshhh….

Unusually, instead of a resonant hum, a soft, almost brushing sound accompanied the faint glow of mana emanating from the mana concentrator.
The silk-made mana concentrator was functioning.

“……!!”
“It's incredible…!”
“It works…! With this…!”

-To be continued-