Chapter 37

At some point, Alter began spending more and more time engrossed in reading.

He needed to find a way to erase the curse, so he had to acquire knowledge through books.

Amidst all this, there was an abundance of magic-related books—he just couldn't resist reading them.

'I'm not even officially his apprentice yet, isn't he sending me way too many books?'

Alter glanced over at the books lined up on his shelf before turning away.

Alraune, insisting that he should at least have a solid grasp of the basics of magic, had provided him with a multitude of books.

Most of them focused on theories for spellcasting, and among them were even books about increasing one's magic power concentration and capacity.

It certainly seemed like Alraune was intent on turning him into a mage no matter what.

'So there really do exist books you can't find in the market. I guess, being the Great Mage, nothing is out of his reach?'

While being amazed at the authority of the Great Mage, Alter also harbored a vague sense of doubt.

Even if not him, someone else could become the Great Mage's successor.

Was it really necessary to go through all this trouble, making his treatment a condition?

'My mother was said to be the Great Mage's apprentice... Should I believe I've inherited some talent?'

Alter had hardly ever heard anything about his mother from his father.

Of course, he had never directly asked, but he had felt there was always some reluctance to talk about her.

Maybe his father still hadn't gotten over his feelings for his mother.

'So if she hadn't gotten married, she might have become the Great Mage herself?'

For a moment, Alter reflected on his mother, then shook his head.

Just as the presence of Alter Radiant was faint, information about his mother was just as hard to come by.

Moreover, so much time had passed since her death that few people now would remember her.

'But the current Great Mage can use two elements... In the end, I guess she would've still won out.'

Alraune always humbly downplayed his own abilities, yet in reality, he must have reached a considerable level.

After all, mages capable of wielding multiple elements were extremely rare; the more elements one had to learn, the more time and effort it required.

Bridging that gap relied purely on talent and luck; wouldn't that make Alraune a true prodigy?

'Someone like that said he fought the Frost Witch and the fight ended in a draw, right?'

The Frost Witch is known as a monster roaming the northern lands, yet few have actually seen her.

Some treat her as a legendary myth or consider her merely an illusion conjured by monsters.

But if the Great Mage himself had confirmed her existence, it was hard not to believe.

'With that kind of strength, she'd be able to engrave a curse on someone's heart.'

From there, Alter found new suspicions arising.

If he killed the Frost Witch, would the curse disappear? Did the Frost Witch have a unique method of dispelling curses? Could he even kill her?

For now, getting rid of the curse was the top priority; the Frost Witch was just a problem for later.

If the curse remained, he would suffer in agony for the rest of his life, regardless of the Frost Witch's fate.

'I probably can't do it on my own... But what if the Great Mage and the Sword Saint joined forces? Then maybe it's possible?'

Not even the Great Mage alone could guarantee victory in a battle against the Frost Witch.

But if the Sword Saint were added to the equation, the Frost Witch surely wouldn't dare go wild.

Of course, there was no precedent for two such powerful figures joining forces before, so there needed to be a worthy cause.

'Or the Holy Apostles could step in. Just because they're apostles doesn't mean they only do healing.'

The four Holy Apostles serve as the direct knights of the Holy King, and some possess overwhelming might.

They represent the Holy King and serve as the order's judges, sometimes even intervening in the Empire's military affairs.

So, if the Holy King deemed the Frost Witch a dangerous monster, the Holy Apostles might be dispatched.

'But would any of them even be willing to help? There's no real reason for them to fight for me.'

Currently, the Frost Witch had vanished and wasn't harming the Agnes Empire.

The Great Mage might help for the sake of breaking the curse, but otherwise, there was hardly any connection at all.

He could consider using the Northern Army, but with no solid grounds, he couldn't mobilize a military force.

'Would killing the Frost Witch even solve everything?'

At the moment, he couldn't be certain of anything.

After all, the most suspicious candidate for casting the curse was the Frost Witch, but nothing was definite.

Moreover, the curse was so intricately engraved that countering it was difficult—and the death of the caster did not guarantee the curse would be lifted.

Since so many bad factors were tangled in this, he had to proceed with caution.

'I don't even know where she is. Am I supposed to search this vast land forever?'

The northern region was covered in endless snowfields, with mountain ranges scattered throughout.

If he stuck near the front lines, he wouldn't get lost, but beyond that, monsters and barbarians prowled all over.

Even trying to track her down would be risky, given the unpredictable climate and the sheer size of the territory.

'Honestly, it's better to just hope the Great Mage finds a way to break the curse.'

That was the safest, most realistic, and most reliable method.

If a way to break the curse was established, he wouldn't even have to get involved with the caster.

Once the curse was gone, the restrictions on magic would also vanish, and adequate power would finally be within his grasp.

'I'll have to become his apprentice as promised once the curse is lifted... But I'd have to learn magic anyway, right?'

It was better to learn from an experienced master than to try studying magic alone.

With the Great Mage, he'd have the best possible teacher, and his wisdom and knowledge would be immense.

If he suddenly became his successor, he might even be able to carve out a place for himself.

'Hm... But maybe it's not good to be in such a rush. If the curse disappears now, I'll have no reason to break off the engagement.'

Alter paused, seeming to ponder this, then made an ambiguous expression.

Breaking off the engagement was one of his objectives, but it wasn't more important than breaking the curse.

Delaying the cure for the sake of breaking an engagement would be foolish.

'In that case, maybe it'd be better to just marry Brillie.'

At this point, worrying about the male lead didn't make sense anymore.

The closer he became to Brillie, the more bothersome things would get, but as her fiancé, the male lead couldn't openly antagonize him.

Besides, the circumstances for the male leads had shifted, so maybe looking at things from a different perspective wasn't so bad.

'The Crown Prince's reaction is weak... Hilise hasn't changed at all, Lang got jealous and gave up, and the Vampire is already dead.'

The Crown Prince required a bit more observation, but he actually seemed calmer than in the original work.

Hilise could be left to his own devices, and the Vampire no longer needed consideration.

For now, Lang seemed to be the only one emotionally swayed over Brillie.

'I should be careful about Lang. The Phantom Thief is about due to make an appearance too...'

The Phantom Thief was a criminal known for persistent theft, but only from corrupt nobles and royalty.

He was often exceptionally kind to commoners and never stole so much as a single coin from them.

That's why, while occasionally called a chivalrous thief, he was still a highly wanted fugitive with a hefty bounty.

'What did he say when he visited the duke's house? Something about coming to admire the beauty of the ducal heiress?'

Alter made a slightly sour face at the memory.

No matter how frivolous one acted, was it possible for someone's tone to be that flippant?

Still, the Phantom Thief wouldn't threaten Brillie, so maybe it was fine to just leave him alone for now.

'Maybe I should wait a bit longer. Doesn't look like the engagement will be broken off anytime soon.'

* * *

Lang, panting heavily, swung his sword without hesitation.

Normally, if an enemy wasn't right in front of him, he wouldn't fight at full power.

But he couldn't afford to underestimate this opponent—he absolutely had to overcome him.

Only that way could he earn the title of Sword Saint and boost his meager reputation.

"... Your sword is wavering. This isn't like you."

The middle-aged man lightly parried Lang's blade, speaking in a calm, gentle tone.

Lang was clearly pouring his all into the match, yet still his blade could not touch his opponent.

If it were like usual, at least his opponent's clothes might've been grazed, but now, what was making him so impatient?

"*Huff*... If I swing my sword... *gasp*... like myself, will anything really change?"

"A sword that's lost its composure is bound to go wild. That kind of wild technique is something only third-rate knights use."

"Whooo... Even when I swing calmly, I can't land even a single hit. What's the point?"

"Haven't I told you again and again? The difference between you and me starts with experience. Your talent may be comparable, but... in controlling your magic power, I'm still ahead."

The middle-aged man looked at Lang without even a drop of sweat.

He was always keenly aware of where, when, and how he needed to act.

But the young, green swordsman, though blessed with talent, still lacked the senses and experience needed for real battle.

That's why, unable to reach him, Lang could only express frustration.

"You received the Sword Saint's title at the age of twenty-eight. Would you really say you'd built up so much experience by then?"

"Look—you're not even twenty-four yet. You're still green, not even able to endure the morning dew before dawn. And you dare mention age to me?"

The current Sword Saint, Megarexor Yoldakerg, shot him an exasperated, indifferent glance.

That foolish youngster was rapidly improving his sword skills and magic power to a level inappropriate for his age.

In fact, compared to Megarexor's own youth, Lang might already be at a higher stage.

Yet, all he wanted was to become the Sword Saint right now, chasing an empty dream.

"Twenty-eight is too late. Are you telling me to wait until then?"

"What nonsense—do you really think the world works however you want? You're just a part of this world. Just because you have a little bit of skill, are you going to rebel against the natural order?"

"Isn't breaking the order exactly how one reaches the top?!"

Lang shouted fiercely, charging at Megarexor.

If he could earn the title of Sword Saint now, he might be able to persuade Duke Illenat.

To stand by Brillie's side once her engagement was broken, he had to prepare however he could.

But if he failed to overcome Megarexor here, even that faint hope would disappear.

"*Tsk tsk*... You reach the top by riding the current, you fool."

With a sigh, Megarexor deftly dodged Lang's wooden sword.

He immediately counterattacked, but Lang managed to block it.

Yet, as if he'd expected even this, Megarexor simply pushed him aside nonchalantly.

"You're running contrary to the flow while aiming for the top..."

Seeing an opening as Lang's form faltered, Megarexor swiftly thrust his wooden sword forward.

Lang tried to defend in a panic, but his body wouldn't move as he wished.In the end, he took the strike and tumbled to the ground.

"Grrk..."

"Pull yourself together, you fool. If you're a swordsman, wield your sword like one! What are you obsessing over a title for? With that method, you won't be Sword Saint, even past thirty."

"Urgh..."

Lang tried to get up immediately, but collapsed again.

Just as Sword Saint Megarexor said, at this rate, he would accomplish nothing.All he'd done was swing his sword, consumed by longing.

How could someone like that possibly surpass a stronger foe?

'Is my desire to have Brillie nothing more than an obsession? Is my affection so fragile that it breaks so easily...?'

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】

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