Chapter Forty-Six: The Tale of the Archmage (Part Two)

“As everyone knows, before the emergence of the Lady Archmage, the rank of Archmage was nothing but a concept. One couldn’t simply declare, ‘This person is an Archmage,’ and expect others to believe it. To prove oneself an Archmage inevitably required a bloody storm.”

“This brings us to the mentor of that Archmage—the legendary Thief Saint, Lady Eula. She is a figure known to all across the continent, a... master thief. If the people of the Holy Continent are born prepared for the possibility of being robbed by dragons, they must also be ready for a visit from the Thief Saint.”

The storyteller shifted the focus to Magiuna’s teacher. Ruby, unfamiliar with this mentor, had only learned of her existence through Magiuna’s occasional remarks. Now, hearing the storyteller’s explanation, he felt as if he had found the root of Magiuna’s notorious temperament.

“Of course, the title ‘Thief Saint’ isn’t something I made up. Upon becoming a Saint of Magic, one is permitted to choose a posthumous title for oneself—whether out of candor or a touch of malice, Eula chose this one, ensuring that those she’d ever visited would grind their teeth in frustration.”

“The experiences of this Saint could be described as nothing short of miraculous. The people she stole from were often ruthless and merciless; if caught, her fate would have been worse than death. Yet, she escaped unscathed time and again, perhaps thanks to her natural talents. Still, aside from her disciple, none truly knew her abilities.”

“Though a foreigner, she became acquainted with the Holy Empire after once being caught red-handed in the previous emperor’s study. His Majesty, Emperor Kaesk XII, did not expel or pursue her; instead, he asked with great interest if she’d care to join his harem. Naturally, the Thief Saint declined, but after some negotiations, she promised that upon becoming a Saint of Magic, she would join the Holy Empire. And so, quite inexplicably, our nation gained a Saint of Magic—and, decades later, an Archmage to boot.”

As the storyteller finished, he spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. The audience, shocked and amused, burst into laughter. It did seem as if they’d acquired such powerful figures for nothing.

“And so, when someone like her suddenly claims her disciple has become an Archmage, how many in the world would believe it? First, His Majesty Kaesk XIII commanded both of our nation’s Saints of Magic to test her. The results were never made public, but the very next day an imperial announcement was issued declaring the world’s first Archmage had appeared, and invitations were sent to guests from the other three nations to celebrate. I’m sure you all understand—this was pure bragging.”

“Of the empires allied with the Holy Empire, the Blackstone Empire abstained, but the remaining two each sent a Saint of Magic—ostensibly to offer congratulations, but in truth, to cause trouble. In the face of their doubt, our Archmage said only one thing…”

‘Come at me together.’

Hubba raised a finger, pausing just long enough to keep his audience in suspense before finally speaking. Instantly, the listeners were awed by the arrogance of this female Archmage. To ordinary people, a Saint of Magic was already a force capable of shattering the heavens and earth—what confidence did it take to face two such long-established powerhouses alone?

“That’s right, just those simple words. The Lionheart Saint from the Gryphon Empire and the Tranquil Heart Saint from the Tides Empire were so provoked that they immediately resolved to teach this arrogant upstart a lesson under the guise of a trial.”

“Of course, a minor figure like myself knows nothing of the details, and the Holy Empire was gracious enough to keep the outcome confidential. But there are no secrets that last forever. In the end, I was fortunate enough to learn a little: throughout the entire trial, our Archmage never so much as used a trace of her own magic, yet left her opponents battered and humiliated.”

“From then on, the name of Archmage echoed across the continent. I hear that when the two Saints returned to their homelands, their faces were dark as thunder. After that, the attitudes of the Gryphon and Tides Empires toward us improved considerably.”

“One more thing!”

The audience, still immersed in awe at the Archmage’s might, noticed the storyteller had paused. Though one story had ended, their appetite was far from sated. Most who could afford to come here were not short of money, and in an instant, a shower of glittering gold coins was tossed onto the dais.

“You are all truly generous… Then let me tell you about the Archmage’s true battle of renown. Has anyone heard of last year’s Beast Tide?”

Seeing so much gold, the storyteller beamed with delight and decided to share his most treasured tale.

“Last year? Did that really happen?” The audience looked bewildered, which was understandable. The Beast Tide’s timing was unpredictable; usually, only after the observatories detected anomalies in the Monster Forest would the imperial capital act. Afterward, a Day of Mourning would be held for fallen warriors—yet last year, there had been no such mourning.

“It did happen. You may not believe it, but I was there as a volunteer in the army. When I saw that vast, seething horde of beasts, my spirit was utterly crushed. Tier-three Earth Tigers, tier-four Sky Scorpions, tier-five Berserk Lions—monsters one would rarely see even once swarmed forth as if on sale. Believe me, none of you would wish to witness such a sight firsthand.”

Drawing on his own experience, the storyteller painted a hellish scene for his audience—people grown accustomed to peace, unable to imagine their own fate in such a nightmare.

“Just as I finished writing my last will and prepared for death, someone suddenly pointed to the sky and cried out. Instinctively, I looked up and saw a tiny white figure flying toward the beast horde. Can you guess what happened next?”

“What happened?” someone called out.

“The fall of stars! A ninth-tier spell, something most people will never see in their lifetime. Crimson magic circles blossomed around her—hundreds, thousands, no one could count how many. To my eyes, the entire sky was filled with them. Then, meteors rained down through those circles. By the time I came to my senses, not a single beast remained standing. Many mages, myself included, had dropped to our knees. Yet the Archmage, as if she had done nothing worth mentioning, vanished into the sky. Though I never saw her face clearly, to have witnessed her in person—I could die with no regrets.”

“What will we do when the next Beast Tide comes and we have no Archmage?” a timid woman in the crowd asked, worried by the story. The men seized the opportunity to comfort their companions.