The Wizard Has A Biochip

My hands clenched into fists for a brief moment.

The urge to refuse that contract crossed my mind.

But that was all.

Just a fleeting thought.

In reality...

I had no choice.

Six mages.

All far above my level.

Refusing would be the equivalent of digging my own grave.

I took a slow breath.

I extended my hand.

The magical quill floating beside the scroll glided gently into my fingers.

I brought its tip to the space reserved for the signature.

—George Gil.

The moment I wrote the last letter...

My entire name shone brilliantly.

A deep crimson.

It looked like liquid blood spreading across the paper.

The contract’s runes lit up one after another.

Magical lines spread across the entire scroll.

Then...

The light vanished.

The letters slowly sank into the paper, as though they had never existed.

The contract had been sealed.

The old mage merely nodded.

—Now go.

I didn’t ask anything.

I bowed respectfully.

I turned around.

And walked toward the exit.

The doors opened on their own.

When I was practically outside...

A deep voice reached my ears.

—I’ve sent other trackers to investigate.

—It seems some of our most talented acolytes died fighting the other acolytes.

My body stiffened for a moment.

But I didn’t stop.

I kept walking.

As if I hadn’t heard a single thing.

...

...

...

The hot water flowed slowly over my body.

For the first time that day...

I managed to relax.

The mud lodged between the armor plates washed away.

The dried blood ran down the drain.

The putrid stench of the swamp was finally replaced by the simple scent of soap.

It was hard to believe that, just a few hours earlier, I had been chased by a high-level acolyte while crossing a swamp filled with monsters.

When I finished my bath...

I felt my skin tingle slightly.

The hot water had restored some of the feeling to my body.

My armor remained in the laboratory.

It was in urgent need of maintenance.

The springs had overheated.

Some gears showed excessive wear.

And the saw had consumed far more energy than expected.

Dressed in clean clothes, I slowly walked to my room.

The moment I saw the bed...

I practically threw myself onto it.

The mattress sank beneath my weight.

I closed my eyes.

But my mind was still racing.

The Tower is under attack.

There was no longer any doubt.

The acolytes of the Black Blood Tower had begun operations against Arcangrove.

And...

Judging by the behavior of those mages...

It was obvious that this information was being kept secret.

Some acolytes had already died.

Even so...

The Council preferred imposing silence contracts rather than revealing the situation.

That could only mean one thing.

They believed that spreading the news would lead to even worse consequences.

—Biochip.

—Project the map.

["Beep."]

Blue lines began to appear before my eyes.

Little by little...

A complete map of the region took shape.

Arcangrove Tower appeared at the center.

Forests.

Mountains.

Swamps.

Roads.

Rivers.

Everything had been carefully reconstructed from my explorations, the maps I had purchased, and the books stored by the Biochip.

I observed it carefully.

The place where I encountered Crystina...

And later Magaly...

Flashed in an intense red.

Extreme Danger Zone.

Probably no ordinary acolyte possessed such a detailed map.

If I decided to sell it...

I could easily earn a few magic crystals.

But money wasn’t my priority at that moment.

I crossed my arms.

And began analyzing the overall situation.

Arcangrove Tower occupied only a narrow stretch of the southern coastline.

We were practically isolated.

To the far south...

Stretched the vast Trolbel Sea.

Largely unexplored.

Filled with unknown dangers.

To the north...

The Mountains and Plains of Despair.

Regions infested with corrupted creatures.

To the west...

Two rival factions.

The Black Blood Tower.

And the Black Bull Tower.

Now I knew that, at the very least, one of them had already begun making moves against us.

My gaze slowly shifted to the east.

The Kingdom of Urna.

I kept watching that region for several seconds.

The areas to the north and south were practically suicide routes.

Heading west meant walking straight toward the enemy.

That left only...

The east.

This world functioned in a way curiously similar to medieval feudalism on Earth.

But there was one fundamental difference.

There was no magical emperor ruling over all mages.

Every Tower.

Every family.

Every faction.

Pursued only its own interests.

The result was inevitable.

Constant wars.

Temporary alliances.

Betrayals.

Endless conflicts.

My gaze returned to the Kingdom of Urna.

From the books in the library, I knew that several magical families operated there.

Besides them...

There were independent mages.

Small clans.

Traveling merchants.

That meant markets.

Clients.

Buyers.

If they don’t come to the Tower to trade...

Then they must have their own commercial centers.

My mind immediately began calculating the possibilities.

If I concealed my identity...

I could sell my inventions discreetly.

Accumulate resources.

Buy materials.

Grow stronger.

Without drawing the Tower’s attention.

It’s decided.

I’ll venture into the Kingdom of Urna to sell my devices.

My engineering skills were still far from those of a true master.

I was fully aware of that.

But...

With the Biochip correcting calculations, simulating structures, and reducing errors...

My success rate was practically divine.

That’s why I had always sold only a small number of explosive fire crystals.

But now...

If I intended to reach Level 3...

I would have to change my strategy.

I sat down on the bed.

—Biochip.

—Simulate the requirements needed to advance to Level 3.

["Prerequisites for Level 3 Acolyte"]

["Minimum Mana: 10 points."]

["Mastery of at least three spell models."]

["Recommendation: Use Ultra-Refined Mana Potions to accelerate development. Without them, progression will be significantly slower."]

I frowned.

Learning three spell models...

Didn’t seem impossible.

With the Biochip’s assistance, it would probably just be a matter of time.

But...

Ultra-Refined Mana Potions...

Those were another story.

According to everything I had learned...

These potions were among the most coveted resources of all.

While healing, strength, or endurance potions could be produced in relatively large quantities...

Mana Potions directly affected the magical development of those who consumed them.

Because of that...

Demand always exceeded supply.

I slowly ran a hand over my face.

At least ten thousand magic crystals...

Just to obtain one...

I shook my head.

It was no wonder that even five-star acolytes became stuck at the bottleneck separating a Level 2 Acolyte from a Level 3 Acolyte.

I rested my head on the pillow and stared at the stone ceiling of my room.

I had already been at Arcangrove Tower for quite some time.

Every day, I interacted with acolytes from different professors.

Even so...

I had never heard of a single acolyte who possessed a truly advanced meditation technique.

The common techniques were only sufficient to slowly absorb the ambient mana.

Nothing extraordinary.

Nothing capable of breaking through a bottleneck in just a few months.

It was as if everyone kept crashing into an invisible wall.

It seems that not even the professors’ favorite acolytes can solve this...

I closed my eyes.

Then another thought came to mind.

A recipe.

If I could produce Mana Potions...

An involuntary smile appeared on my face.

I’d be swimming in magic crystals...

But the excitement lasted only a few seconds.

Soon, I returned to reality.

An Ultra-Refined Mana Potion cost around ten thousand magic crystals.

If the finished product commanded that kind of price...

Then the formula...

Had to be worth a fortune.

Something close to 700,000 magic crystals.

Perhaps even more.

Who would sell a goose that lays golden eggs for pocket change?

It was a beautiful idea.

But completely unrealistic.

...

...

...

The next morning...

I got up early.

Even though I had dismissed that possibility hundreds of times throughout the night...

My curiosity continued to torment me.

Maybe...

Just maybe...

Professor Totil knew something.

Even if it was only an incomplete formula.

Or an inferior version.

Any information would already be useful.

I left the dormitory and walked through the Tower’s silent corridors.

Without waiting long, I slowly pushed the door open.

The laboratory’s distinctive aroma immediately filled my nose.

Professor Totil was sitting behind a table covered with flasks, test tubes, and partially dismantled metal components.

The room was far messier than usual.

But what really caught my attention was...

There was an open bottle of liquor beside the table.

Another, completely empty, lay on the floor near his chair.

His face showed an unusual weariness.

His eyes remained sharp.

Observant.

But there was something heavy hidden within them.

As though he were trying to forget something.

Drowning his thoughts in alcohol... could it have something to do with the recent invasion?

Even so...

The moment he noticed my presence...

His gaze became alert once more.

As always.

I approached respectfully.

I bowed my head slightly.

—Master.

—I need a formula for a Mana Potion.

His eyebrows rose ever so slightly.

—A formula for a potion capable of increasing magical energy?

I nodded.

—Yes.

He remained silent for several seconds.

Then he slowly rested an elbow on the table.

—George...

—The success rate for brewing that kind of potion is extremely low.

—The required materials are rare.

—The refinement process is unstable.

—Even experienced engineers fail repeatedly.

—He picked up a small transparent vial and slowly turned it between his fingers.

—I’ve known Engineering Masters who squandered their entire fortunes trying to perfect those formulas.

—I’ve also known Alchemy Masters who ended up buried in debt pursuing the same goal.

He turned his eyes toward me.

—In the end, only those backed by great families can persist long enough to achieve results.

I had expected to hear exactly that.

But even knowing that...

I couldn’t give up.

—Master, you know my aptitude.

—My magical affinity is only comparable to that of a three-star acolyte.

—For someone like me, reaching Level 3 is already difficult.

—But advancing from Level 3 to Mage...

—That bottleneck will be even worse.

I lowered my head slightly.

—The younger an acolyte is when they reach the rank of Mage, the greater their prospects for the future.

—That’s precisely why I want to take this gamble now.

—Even if the odds are slim...

—I would rather fail while trying to advance...

—Than spend years waiting for a miracle.

...

1734 Words