The Wizard Has A Biochip

The pressure exerted by Viscount Probel was beginning to have an effect.

The silence that filled the room grew heavier and heavier.

The acolytes exchanged discreet glances.

Some clearly did not want to accept the mission.

Others were simply calculating whether the reward was worth the risk.

In the end...

One after another, they all agreed.

It was practically inevitable.

After all, they had lived for years within the territory governed by the Viscount.

Moreover, Probel was a High Knight, someone whose strength far surpassed theirs.

Refusing a direct request from a man like that could create a completely unnecessary enemy.

However...

There was one exception.

The middle-aged red-haired man, the owner of the pleasure house, remained completely indifferent.

— Forgive me, Viscount.

He smiled politely.

— But I have no interest in this expedition.

Without the slightest hesitation.

That caught my attention.

Either he was confident enough to ignore the Viscount, or he knew something the rest of us didn’t.

Probel merely narrowed his eyes slightly.

He did not press the issue.

At last...

His gaze settled on me.

— And you, Mr. George?

I smiled politely.

But my mind immediately began analyzing the situation.

Since my arrival in Distant Wind City...

I had practically disappeared from public view.

I spent almost all of my time inside the mansion.

I rarely went out.

Furthermore...

No enemies had ever come looking for me.

Naturally, in the Viscount’s eyes, I was probably nothing more than an extremely reclusive young acolyte.

But...

I also knew that he was suspicious of me.

My arrival had almost perfectly coincided with the Royal Family’s assignment of the mission.

It would have been strange if he hadn’t connected the two.

Even so...

He had never found any evidence.

I kept a thoughtful expression.

— Recently...

I looked at my teacup.

— I’ve been completely occupied researching new potions.

— Several of my experiments have reached an extremely delicate stage.

— Interrupting them now would cause me considerable losses.

My refusal sounded sincere.

Or at least...

That was the impression I wanted to convey.

The Viscount watched me silently for a few seconds.

Then he spoke calmly.

— Even so...

— I ask that you spare a little of your time.

— I know that Mr. George has been purchasing large quantities of Red Leaves.

— The neighboring cities have practically exhausted their supplies.

— That ingredient is becoming increasingly scarce.

He paused briefly before continuing.

— However...

— The castle still has a reserve.

— If you agree to join this expedition...

— I am willing to give you all of those Red Leaves as part of your reward.

My heart almost stopped.

Red Leaves...

My eyes lit up involuntarily.

Throughout the entire past year, I had bought practically everything available on the market.

Even so...

My mana had only reached 6.8.

Without more Red Leaves...

That was precisely the resource I needed the most.

This old man really came prepared...

It was impossible not to realize it.

That was probably his final card.

The absolute limit of what he was willing to offer.

I kept my expression serious.

I crossed my arms.

I pretended to deliberate for a long time.

As though I were fighting an intense internal battle.

After nearly a minute...

I sighed.

— Very well.

— I’ll participate.

The faint smile that appeared on the Viscount’s face confirmed my suspicions.

He truly needed us.

A short while later...

The meeting came to an end.

The acolytes immediately began discussing routes, provisions, the number of soldiers, and possible strategies for exploring the forest.

I observed everything in silence.

Honestly...

I don’t expect much from this group.

Most of those acolytes were practically retired.

They lived comfortably.

Managing businesses.

Accumulating wealth.

Magic had become nothing more than a secondary tool.

Not a means of survival.

Even so...

I remained optimistic.

They were still acolytes.

Even basic spells were still spells.

In battle...

Any help was better than none.

As I walked out of the castle...

Lurdot quietly approached me.

His face carried an unusually serious expression.

— Young man...

He looked around before whispering,

— When we reach the forest...

— You’ll have to protect me.

I stopped walking.

— What?

I stared at him in complete disbelief.

Then I burst into laughter.

— Hahaha!

— You’re a third-level acolyte!

— Unlike me!

— I’m still only a second-level acolyte.

Lurdot let out a deep sigh.

His face revealed obvious embarrassment.

— I’m old...

— Far too old.

He slowly stroked his beard.

— I’ve forgotten most of my magical repertoire.

He blinked a few times.

— You know...

— Constructing magical models requires absolute precision.

— One tiny mistake... and the explosion happens before there’s even a corpse left behind.

My smile slowly disappeared.

I looked at him.

— How long has it been... since you last cast a spell?

Lurdot took a few seconds to answer.

— Hmm...

He looked up at the sky.

— Nearly fifty years.

He smiled innocently.

— I’ve always considered myself more of a scholar than a combatant.

I stood completely still.

My expression hardened.

I stared fixedly at the old man.

Then only one thought crossed my mind.

Damn...

I’m completely screwed.

My entire plan of relying on Lurdot as the team’s primary magical force had just fallen apart.

For days, I had imagined that a third-level acolyte would be the offensive core of the expedition.

Now I was discovering that the man hadn’t cast a single spell in half a century.

That was the equivalent of asking a blacksmith who had retired fifty years ago to forge a flawless suit of armor.

I took a deep breath.

Calm down...

Maybe he’s still hiding an ace up his sleeve.

Or at least...

I sincerely hoped so.

.

.

.

Two days later.

At daybreak.

The massive gates of Distant Wind City slowly began to open.

The grinding of the gears echoed across the city walls.

Shortly afterward...

Our expedition departed from the city.

At the front marched a detachment of heavily armed soldiers.

We acolytes traveled in the center.

Some wagons carried provisions.

Others transported equipment for setting up camps.

The rear was protected by more soldiers.

I discreetly observed the entire formation.

It was quite well organized.

Lurdot rode beside me.

He seemed to be in a much better mood.

— I never imagined Viscount Probel himself would accompany us.

He smiled.

— I feel much safer now.

I looked ahead.

Mounted atop a massive black horse...

Probel wore a suit of completely black armor.

His helmet concealed his face entirely.

Only his eyes remained visible through the narrow metal slits.

Even sitting still...

He radiated an overwhelming sense of danger.

Taking advantage of the fact that no one was paying attention to us...

I leaned slightly toward Lurdot.

— How have your preparations been?

I asked in a low voice.

The old man replied in the same tone.

— I spent the last two full days training.

— I only managed to recover two spell models.

I nodded slowly.

— That should be enough.

Or at least...

It was better than absolutely nothing.

In truth, I had never fully believed that conversation from two days ago.

Even if those retired acolytes had lost part of their abilities...

It was impossible to believe they could have survived for decades in the world of mages without possessing some hidden trump card.

That world had never been kind.

Much less safe.

Mages died every day.

Assassinations.

Experiments.

Betrayals.

Magical creatures.

A single moment of carelessness meant death.

Someone like Lurdot could never have survived for so long relying on luck alone.

As I watched that seemingly harmless old man calmly adjusting his white beard, I couldn’t help but doubt one thing.

That old man was definitely hiding an ace up his sleeve.

.....

1273 Words