[EN] Episode 2 - LEGACY

That evening.
Wingester left the academy clutching a large, tightly wrapped bundle in his arms.
He hurried home, trying hard to look calm.
“Oh my. You're finally back?”
“Yes.”
“What about dinner?”
“I'll eat.”


Wingester answered half-heartedly, then quickly opened the inner door of the shop and ascended to the third floor.
His mother watched him go with a worried look, shaking her head.
While she was proud of his perseverance in attending the academy despite always being treated like a janitor, she couldn't help but think she should advise him to drop out.


Wingester reached the third floor in quick strides, arriving at the room that had once been his grandfather's research lab and was now his own.


Only then did he let out a small sigh of relief, though inwardly he was confused about whether bringing this out had been the right thing to do.


“It's fine... I'll just quickly check what it is and put it back...”
After all, the storage room on the third basement level he'd cleaned today was a place used decades ago. Now, even the teachers didn't know exactly what was stored there and had left it neglected.
If one item like this went missing for a while, no one would suspect a thing.


“The problem is...”
He slowly peeled back the cloth and set it down on the floor.
Something rattled inside, and the object placed on the floor was still bound in a crimson sealing ribbon.


This sealing ribbon, at least, was irreparable.
Once removed, it would crumble, making restoration impossible. Worst of all, it might alert the mage who had it wrapped around them that the seal had been broken.
“Ugh...”


After several hesitant attempts to reach for the band, Wingester finally gritted his teeth and grabbed it.
He was someone who wouldn't be surprised if he got kicked out of the academy at any moment anyway.
If he was going to get expelled anyway, it was better to at least know what this was before it happened.


Sssssshh-.


He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead as he watched the belt snap instantly upon a slight tug and twist, scattering into dust in an instant.
After the surprisingly thick red cloth vanished, what was revealed was...


“This is...!”
A familiar-looking lock, reminiscent of something from his memories, was exposed.
A lock shaped like a mage clad in an old-fashioned robe.
Its outstretched hand had a hole in it.


As if spellbound, I pulled the cord hanging around my neck, retrieved the staff-shaped ornament tied to it, and carefully inserted it into that hand.
But when there was no reaction, I sighed softly and tried to pull it out again.


Click.


The hand holding the wand bent slightly upward, and the lock released.
Sure enough, this was the box Grandfather had used to store his research materials and such.
Why on earth was such a thing in the Academy's underground storage?
Pushing the question aside, he slowly opened the box.


Inside, it was filled with messy blueprints, drawings resembling scribbles, a long rod that looked like a staff but was clearly something else, and...


Clank.


"...A gun...?!
He didn't know the exact type, but it was definitely a long metal rod resembling a gun, similar in form to those used by the soldiers of the Maritime Kingdom.


That monstrous tool, infamous for causing the deaths of several mages during a local conflict with the Maritime Kingdom decades ago, why was it here?


Wingester slowly pulled out both rods, set one aside, and began seriously examining the blueprints and scribbles. A chill ran down his spine.
“Th-this...!”


As he scanned the materials, he understood why his grandfather had kept his research so secret.


Though largely unknown due to information control, many lower-class citizens of the Mage Kingdom, possessing low magical aptitude, were easily suppressed by the kingdom's combat mages whenever they rebelled.


In response, the lower classes imported various hunting tools from maritime kingdoms and used them as weapons to resist. When some mages suffered casualties from this, the kingdom declared the use of hunting tools treason and massacred the resisting lower classes, using the secret police as their vanguard.


Grandfather was researching the development of a powerful ranged weapon capable of instantly incapacitating combat mages—one that could easily pierce through defensive magic or even bulletproof robes—for the sake of precisely those lower classes.


“Surely this isn't that...”
Wingester picked up the staff lying beside the gun and examined it closely.


What stood out was that, unlike the standard mana spheres—carved with runes on a magic stone and crafted into a crystal sphere—this one was mounted not at the top of the staff, but in the middle, positioned roughly where the chest would be on a human body.


Below the crystal sphere, a coin-like object made of an unidentifiable metal was inserted. The lower end of the support, which could be considered the barrel, was charred black and torn.


“Wingester— Come eat your dinner—.”
Just as he was about to test how it worked, his mother's voice calling from downstairs made him start. He quickly shoved the documents and firearms back into the box and pushed it under the bed.


*


That night.
Wingester had finally emerged into the backyard holding the stick that could be considered his grandfather's legacy.
He wanted to confirm whether this thing truly worked.


Clack.


Having read the usage instructions described in the materials over and over, he cautiously gripped it in a different way than how one would normally hold a wand.


Wands used by ordinary mages generally came in two main forms.
The staff, typically wielded with both hands, offered excellent magical support capabilities but was slightly less portable.
The wand, easily handled with one hand, lacked the same magical support due to its simpler structure.


At first glance, the object Grandfather had made resembled a type of staff, but its grip method was unique.


Instead of the usual grip, it used the top of the wand—a part one normally wouldn't hold—like a handle, designed to be held with the support end pointing toward the target.


“Like this...”
Carefully following the instructions, he infused a little magic into the crystal sphere through the handle to activate it.


Grrgrr...


After stuttering briefly, it began to function, sparking slightly as it received a modest amount of mana.


Poof!


“Huh!?”
Not only did magic suddenly burst forth from the tip of the support, but the tip itself exploded slightly, cracking and splintering apart.
It was obvious why the tip was so tattered.


“Ugh...”
Fearing someone might notice, he frantically rubbed the tip of the wand, now smoldering, against the floor to extinguish the flame. Then, he clutched it tightly to his chest.


His grandfather had passed away in an accident, but the fact that his legacy had found him like this overwhelmed him.
The legacy of his grandfather—the eccentric researcher his father always spoke of proudly, the pride of the family.


However, he resolved not to tell anyone about this until everything was certain.
He didn't know whose sealing band it was, but it was clear someone disapproved of this research.


Carefully, he returned the tools to the box and began pulling out the documents, reading them one by one.
His grandfather hadn't simply wanted to create a gun-shaped staff.
Through research into developing other necessary components for this staff, he had been pursuing technological advancement in other fields as well.


A prime example was his research into improving the efficiency of mana concentrators, which, until then, were rarely used due to their poor efficiency compared to mana spheres.
“Amazing...!”


Even to Wingester's current eyes, these were novel and thoroughly valuable studies.
From that day on, every night after returning from the academy, Wingester pored over the documents with such intensity they seemed to wear holes.


The research proved far more dangerous and grueling than Wingester had imagined.
He tried various methods, referencing his grandfather's materials whenever he could between schoolwork, to complete the magic tool, but most attempts were unsuccessful.


Experiments using various types of wood commonly used for wands were no exception.
Every time he fired a magic bullet, the wand portion would crack and shatter, rendering it useless.


Only after turning dozens of wands into rags did he think to drill a hole through the center of the wand to create a path for the magic bullet.


He begged the dwarf blacksmith for a drill, carefully bored a hole through the staff, and tested it again. But sure enough, it exploded.


Wingester clutched his head in agony, gritting his teeth.
The more his research hit roadblocks, the more his heart burned with determination.
“I will...!”


*


Two years passed since that day.
Wingester's knowledge of Magitech and his magical artifact crafting skills advanced by leaps and bounds.
This was possible because his grandfather's legacy had given him both knowledge and courage for the future.


Even Wingester's academic performance, which had crawled along the bottom for two years, began to change.
He achieved perfect scores on every exam in subjects like Magitech, climbing up to the middle-lower tier.


“Truly remarkable, Wingester. Your recent progress is astonishing. If you have some secret method, wouldn't you share it with your professor?”
Even Professor Mondwell, who taught Magitech and was one of the few people wingester was somewhat close to, was genuinely amazed.


"I've been... seeing my grandfather in my dreams."
“Your grandfather...?”
“Yes. He's my role model.”
“Huh.”


As always, Wingester holed up in his room after school.
He had spent the past two years continuously researching to complete his grandfather's magical artifact, which he had named the Barrett Staff.


Inside the room, staffs and accessories, remnants of failed attempts to improve the Barrett Staff, lay scattered everywhere, broken and shattered.


After trying various approaches with little success, Wingester decided to change his tack entirely.


“This time has to work...”
The item he'd ordered from the blacksmith a few days ago had finally arrived.
Unfolding the long cloth he'd carried it in revealed a metal staff resembling a gun, crafted by the dwarves to his specifications.


After repeated failures, he concluded that an ordinary wooden staff simply couldn't withstand the magical shock launched from its center.


Therefore, he decided to model the entire body after a real gun, using metal. He even drilled a hole in the center of the support structure, corresponding to the barrel, just like a gun.


Clang.


The mana concentrator fit perfectly into the metal Barrett Staff, crafted to order.
A groove was carved into the top of the concentrator, where the component called the Bullet Plate, which determines the projectile fired by the Barrett Staff, was naturally inserted.


“Huu-.”
Hoping fervently that this time it would work properly, he aimed in the now familiar stance.
The target was, as always, the North Star floating in the sky.
After carefully completing his aim, he calmly infused it with mana.


Ki-iiiiing-


Pwoong-!


It was still a bit loud and shook violently, but this time, the barrel didn't explode.
Moreover, seeing the magic flying at over three times the speed he'd originally imagined, Wingester's heart pounded.
“This is it...!”


Faster than the spells cast by ordinary mages,
more precise than the spells cast by ordinary mages,
and unlike ordinary mages, even without high mana aptitude or cultivation, one could fire combat magic by borrowing the power of the tool.


“...The world will be turned upside down...”
He felt he understood now.
Just how incredible the magic tool he held in his hands truly was.
That his grandfather had intended to do something this incredible.


“Grandfather...!”
Wingester, clutching the staff tightly, thought he should visit his grandfather's grave this weekend.


“…Wingester?”
Hearing his father’s voice from inside the house, Wingester answered yes and hurriedly ran upstairs.
His father’s scolding voice followed him, asking why he wasn’t asleep at this hour.


-To be continued-