Surviving As A Mage In A Magic Academy [EN]: Chapter 1171

Experienced black wizards could sense the danger hidden beneath the surface of the seemingly simple question.

Even though the question sounded ordinary, it carried a strangely chilling undertone.

“…Why do you ask that?” one of them inquired cautiously.

“Because I am from the Einrogaard School of Black Magic,” Ihan replied.

The descendants of Ahrak were visibly shocked by this revelation.

The young wizard standing before them was a student at the infamous Einrogaard School of Black Magic.

Could it truly be…?

One wizard exclaimed, “Could it be that you, you little whelp, are Ihan from the Wodanaz family?! The one Mortum never stops bragging about!”

Ihan was taken aback.

‘Professor…!’ he thought.

He had never been ashamed of his school, but today, he felt a twinge of embarrassment.

“That’s right,” Ihan admitted. “Professor Mortum only does that because he cares deeply for his students.”

Anglaga asked, sounding puzzled, “Oh? Did Raphaelle praise you too?”

Ihan’s expression immediately hardened. “Be quiet,” he warned.

‘No…!’ he thought, frustrated that the praise was mentioned again.

The descendants conceded with resentful tones, “If you possess the skill to contact the Hag, I can understand why Mortum bragged about you.”

With such a rare talent, Mortum’s boasting was almost an understatement.

In truth, Mortum’s bragging often included unnecessary details, such as his repeated claims of filling the School of Black Magic’s vault to the brim.

“I agree,” another wizard said. “Mortum truly has a remarkable student.”

“No,” Ihan interjected, steering the conversation back on track. “Why are you changing the subject? What is this about excluding the Einrogaard School of Black Magic and leaving them out?”

“Ah,” the descendants responded, snapping back to reality.

The sin they had committed still lingered in the air.

The undead belonging to Oondoorugu’s legion, who had been silently observing the exchange, spoke up. “Grrr. Ahrak’s descendants decided to invite the Einrogaard School of Black Magic but deliberately left them out.”

The descendants were taken aback.

“Are you really going to do this? You traitors?” one of them questioned.

The undead simply shrugged in response.

“Grrr. The living must live,” they growled.

Even if Ahrak’s descendants couldn’t ask questions, shouldn’t the other black wizards have the opportunity?

“That’s a reasonable opinion. We agree too,” the Obsidian Magic Tower wizards readily chimed in.

In fact, they would have betrayed them regardless, as long as it meant they could ask questions, even if it meant Ahrak’s descendants or Oondoorugu’s legion suffered.

However, this messy argument among the black wizards made things worse.

Ihan was already furious that they hadn’t invited Senior Dirett, and instead of showing remorse, they were now shifting blame onto each other!

In Ihan’s eyes, these black wizards seemed like one and the same.

“That’s enough!” Ihan exclaimed. “Aren’t you all the same?”

“Grrr? No?!” the undead protested.

“The descendants of Ahrak really did leave out the invitation. We can prove it,” one of the black wizards insisted.

Ihan coldly countered, “Is there anyone here who tried to belatedly invite them when you found out they weren’t invited?”

The black wizards fell silent, unable to answer the piercing question.

That was indeed the case…

“I see no reason to be kind to those who disregard the Einrogaard School of Black Magic in such a manner. I’ll retract what I just said,” Ihan declared.

“Ah, no!” the black wizards cried out.

“Grrr! Think again!” the undead urged.

Despite their pleas, Ihan had already made up his mind.

Ihan turned to Professor Taswhan, the only person he felt he could trust, and said, “Professor Taswhan, if you happen to have any questions for the Hag, please let me know. I’ll ask her if possible.”

“M-me?!” Professor Taswhan stammered, startled by the sudden attention, having watched his seniors bicker in such a disgraceful manner.

Belatedly, he cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure. “Thank you! Student Wodanaz!”

“No!! Why does that young brat get to?!” the descendants of Ahrak protested, unable to accept the situation.

They could have accepted it if no one was allowed to ask questions.

But for the young wizard from Kallarograd to receive special treatment…

Why?

‘I can’t understand it!’ one of them thought.

The other black wizards seemed to share the sentiment, staring at Ihan with burning eyes, confident that they could outmatch him in magic, experience, or reputation.

“Don’t you know the reason?” Ihan asked.

“Yes! What’s the reason?!” they demanded.

“Kallarograd is friendly with Einrogaard, isn’t it,” Ihan stated simply.

The black wizards fell silent at the unexpected explanation.

It was rude and unfair, but it was hard to argue against.

If they’re friends, there’s nothing we can do…

The black wizards who had gathered in the reception room dispersed, their efforts in vain.

They didn’t leave the castle, still driven by their desire to consult the Hag, but there was nothing else they could accomplish by remaining in the reception room.

‘Hmph. It’s not difficult to win over a young brat. I must persuade him and obtain the right to ask questions,’ one of them thought.

‘Grrr,’ another grumbled.

‘I should create a negotiation plan for the Einrogaard School of Black Magic and contact them,’ a third plotted.

Of course, the black wizards didn’t simply give up.

Each of them retreated with the firm belief that they, unlike the others, could succeed.

Ihan apologized for the disgraceful squabble. “I’m sorry, Lord.”

He couldn’t help but wonder if this was the reason why the Empire’s School of Black Magic had such a negative reputation.

He wasn’t familiar with other magic schools, but he doubted they would engage in such a shameful display in a reception room.

Jidorf looked at Ihan with affection. “What are you talking about, Wodanaz? If a wizard who solved the problems of the North apologizes, the northern families will be ashamed.”

Who would have thought that the young man from the Wodanaz family, initially invited for other reasons, would resolve this issue as well?

‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen that look before…’ Giselle mused to herself.

Her father, usually so cold and strict, was showing such a warm expression.

It was becoming difficult to distinguish who was from the Wodanaz family and who was from the Moradi family.

Jidorf stated, “I will inform you about the negotiations with the Hag as soon as they are finalized.”

“Let me know if the black wizards bother you,” he added.

Ihan had been a precious guest before the problem was solved, but now that it was, the black wizards were individuals who could be expelled at any moment.

Aware of this, the black wizards quietly retreated instead of complaining.

They all knew that if they whined in the reception room again, they would be promptly removed.

“Thank you for your consideration,” Ihan replied.

Jidorf quickly glanced at the White Tiger Tower students before returning his gaze to its original position. “Let me know if the knights bother you too.”

Giselle realized that the ‘knights’ he had just mentioned weren’t solely referring to the knights of the territory.

However, the White Tiger Tower students, oblivious to this implication, shouted enthusiastically, “We will protect Wodanaz! Just leave it to us!”

“Yes. Thank you, everyone. You must be tired from the trip, so please return and rest today,” Ihan said.

The students bowed politely and left the room in an orderly fashion.

Behind Giselle, who was the last to exit, the head butler quietly followed.

“I have something to ask you, Lady Giselle,” the butler said.

Giselle responded as if she had anticipated the question. “Please tell him that I will manage the White Tiger Tower students.”

The head butler’s inquiry was clearly intended to convey her father’s intentions.

She couldn’t openly criticize them in front of her friends, so this approach was only natural.

“No. The Lord did not ask about that. Everyone knows that Lady Giselle will manage them well on her own, so why would he ask?” the butler clarified.

“Then what is it…?” Giselle asked, puzzled.

“What kind of magic did the wizard from the Alpha family cast on the horn? If it’s okay, I’d like to inform the other butlers as well,” the butler explained.

“…I’ll ask Wodanaz later…” Giselle replied weakly, her shoulders slumping in relief.

The Hag sent a large toad messenger beyond the dimensions.

The virtuous powerhouses of the dimension rarely maintained contact with the evil god worshippers, but neutral beings like the Hag were a different story.

What mattered was how interesting they were, regardless of whether they were good or evil.

How much distorted time passed between the dimensions?

By some standards, it wasn’t even a second, and by others, it was decades before an answer came back.

Why did the wisest Hag want to see me?

It was the handwriting of the Immortal, one of the bishops of the Prahgal Order.

The Hag chuckled and began to write on the back of another large toad with the end of a ladle.

This primitive magic had the power to immediately communicate through the distortions and interferences of the dimensions.

I came to make a proposal.

Sorry, but I’m not in the mood.

‘Hmm,’ the Hag mused.

Despite the cold and arrogant attitude, the Hag was not angry.

Of course, if a mere mortal had acted like that, she would have immediately become angry and used them as fuel to heat her cauldron or thrown them into it.

But evil god worshippers were a different story. Weren’t they all a little crazy?

There was no point in getting angry at such people for being rude. The Hag was generous when she wanted to be.

‘Something happened,’ she thought.

Evil god worshippers, who were always at a disadvantage in the material world, were often positive about proposals coming from outside the dimension.

But such a prickly attitude…

It was one of two things.

They had recently achieved a great success, or they had suffered a great failure.

The Hag bet on the latter, based on the emotion contained in the handwriting.

Yes, yes! This old woman has heard about that failure too. It must be embarrassing. But it won’t do if a grown-up just covers themselves with a blanket and cries, will it?

Did you send a messenger just to insult me? Or to brag about how fast the rumors spread?

The Hag smiled again. It seemed she had hit the mark, seeing how they were reacting.

Of course, I sent it to help! Otherwise, why would this old woman bother sending a toad to a wretch like you? So stop crying and tell me. I’ll help you get revenge.

Come to think of it, you were good at handling insects too… Good. Let’s make a deal. If you answer my question, I’ll pay the price. Would a hundred sacrifices be enough?

The price will vary depending on the question. Do you take this old woman for a fool?

My apologies. It was such a shocking event… You must also know about the Regenerator’s insects.

The Hag waited quietly.

The Regenerator, or rather, Prahgal’s insects, were well known to the Hag, who also used the power of insects.

Their powers were different in lineage, but there were overlapping parts and things to learn.

Do you think an outsider could steal the power of those insects?

‘?!’ The Hag was surprised.

That meant someone had stolen and used the power of the Prahgal Order!

‘Is it time for those fanatics to fall?’ she wondered.

She had lived in the dimension for a long time, but she had never heard of an outsider stealing the Order’s power and using it.

Not recreated with magic?

Do you take me for a fool?

This old woman apologizes. Well, you wouldn’t be unable to distinguish that.

Recreating something with magic was clearly different from stealing the power itself and using it.

If he was foolish enough to not be able to distinguish that, he would have been arrested and executed in the material world a long time ago.

The Hag had come to make a proposal but had fallen deeply into an intriguing mystery.

Just what kind of wretch stole the power, and how?

‘I’m so curious!’ she exclaimed inwardly.