43 — 5 (3)

“I am Louis of the Pontina Ducal House, Consul of Proia.”

“A pleasure. I am Geurek of the Mage Tower, heir to the origins of the Generation School.”

The Mage Tower belonged to no nation. It was closer to a gathering of sages who secluded themselves and accumulated knowledge. Yet the countries connected to the Tower could be said to include the entire world.

The Duchy of Eron, to which Louis belonged, was likewise one of the many states allied with the Mage Tower, so it was only natural that Louis and Geurek treated each other with respect.

Louis extended his hand. Geurek clasped it.

The mage naturally sensed that Louis’s aura was anything but ordinary.

‘He overwhelms his surroundings. This man… is loved by mana.’

At the sight of Louis, Geurek felt his fatigue melt away. It had been a long time since anyone gave him this feeling. Though closer to an inventor, Geurek was also a mage who had honed mana in its purest form. Those loved by mana gave off a distinctive presence, and in Louis’s case, it was plainly that of a predator.

‘War.’

The word surfaced unbidden in Geurek’s mind.

Then he shook his head. A small country. And within it, a small city. War required population. The Duchy of Eron, ringed by mountains, had defensive advantages, but that was all.

“Most impressive.”

“I think so too, Master Geurek. The Generation School, you say? A rare school.”

What Louis emphasized was the word rare. The less mainstream the other’s school, the weaker his power base likely was. Before a negotiation, acquiring such information was crucial.

The negotiations one could conduct against a strong party and those against a weak party were starkly different.

In fact, the moment they exchanged names and shook hands, the negotiation had already begun.

Unlike Louis, the mage—reeking of a scholar’s life—opened his mouth without grasping the implications of Louis’s question.

“The Mage Tower is divided into many branches. Mine is rare, but I believe its value is second to none. Regeneration means life.”

Louis rose from his seat.

“……I see. Let’s leave greetings here. Would you like to view the item?”

---

Behind the residence. Geurek’s jaw dropped.

‘He froze the entire pond—and perfectly.’

He had never imagined the storage would be this flawless. That a city this small had a mage was surprising enough…

Geurek looked at Jerome.

Jerome’s condition was terrible. By Louis’s order, he had practically lived here for months. Even with soldiers and attendants caring for him, excessive mana use had left his face pallid.

“Which school are you from?”

“….I…”

“Jerome hasn’t joined the Mage Tower yet. He only awakened his magic recently.”

Louis answered for him.

‘Recently…?’

For a First-Circle mage, this was far too perfect. Even if his own disciple had talent, had he assigned the same task when the boy was First Circle, the odds of failure would have been high.

“What’s the condition?”

“Perfect.”

‘How much is he able to pay?’

Watching him, Louis slowly began to gauge the number. He didn’t look particularly savvy in this field.

‘Then a straightforward approach is best.’

He planned to ask outright and infer Geurek’s ceiling.

Strictly speaking, it was more polite to discuss money after the guest had rested, but asking now was also a viable tactic.

Geurek had rushed here in one go and was exhausted.

Louis judged that his head must be full of nothing but washing up and getting some sleep. In other words, he would aim at that desire for comfort, elicit an unguarded answer, and glean clues to estimate tomorrow’s bargaining range.

“Since you came all this way in person, you must need this very much. How much are you prepared to pay?”

What Louis overlooked was that, though tired, Geurek was also sharp.

As one who cultivated mana, Louis’s presence was intense, and Jerome’s result was impressive.

However devoted to research he was, Geurek had learned every bit of commerce needed to survive in the Tower.

‘Experienced. Asking the price now, when the negotiation is tomorrow.’

Because he had to retain some research funds, Geurek needed to take the Forest Worm at minimum cost.

“I’ve ridden far too hard. I’m very tired. I’d prefer we discuss important matters tomorrow.”

Geurek demanded courtesy, and Louis could only oblige.

Thus Geurek blocked Louis’s opening strike.

“…Understood. It’s proper to handle important business with a clear head. By the way, did you come alone? It doesn’t look like you can take this item by yourself…”

“My disciple is joining late with laborers. They should arrive soon.”

“Hm… You don’t mean you must consult your disciple before deciding, do you?”

Louis asked lightly because he wanted the man’s assent. For the sake of his quest, he needed the deal concluded as soon as possible. Ideally, he would have traded on the spot, but that was now impossible.

He had to close quickly without seeming pressed for money or time—that was the key point Louis needed to achieve in this negotiation.

By contrast, Geurek was not pressed for time, but he absolutely had to secure research funds—here their positions diverged.

Of the three, only Jerome failed to notice how much background lay beneath those few simple lines.

The first attempt at negotiation fell apart quickly and cleanly.

---

The next day, as Geurek moved in earnest for the negotiation, the Colosseum naturally came into view.

‘What in the world is this building?’

Even for well-traveled Geurek, its form was unfamiliar; by rough outline, he guessed it was some sort of stadium for citizens.

Being a mage, he couldn’t stand not knowing; he stopped a passerby and asked.

“What exactly is this building?”

The citizen sized up the lone stranger in a robe with no attendants and answered.

“Didn’t you come to see the Colosseum?”

“So this is called the Colosseum?”

“You’re here for another purpose, then. There’s a match tomorrow—do see it if you can. The Colosseum is…”

Geurek watched the citizen’s lips closely.

“A place where slaves fight slaves to the death, staking their lives. It’s really fun.”

‘Slaves… fighting slaves…?’

It was an age that treated slaves as objects. Mages who pursued free knowledge were no exception, so Geurek found the notion intriguing.

He had heard that some lords with unusual tastes sometimes set up death matches between slaves, but this was his first time seeing it offered as entertainment.

“If there’s a match tomorrow, I must watch…”

After exchanging brief courtesies with the citizen, Geurek found himself very interested in this little city.

Even as he walked on, his eyes never rested.

‘So many people, packed tight.’

For the city’s size, the population density was remarkably high, and Geurek felt as if he were watching dough rise. He had noted the general terrain on the way in; for a city in such a location—unsupported by geography—to grow like this was proof that the Consul was highly capable.

‘Indeed, a predator.’

And a predator who governed this well meant many things in Louis’s future could change.

By habit, Geurek’s small eyes constantly quantified the city. It was a Mage Tower habit; counting people in several spots, adding some arithmetic to the city’s scale, he arrived at…

‘Roughly… ninety thousand?’

Ninety thousand—small for a city, perhaps, but for one not on a river, an almost impossible figure.

Passing through the last alley, his eyes met a refined structure whose white marble frame was nearly complete.

‘And this… again…’

Even having visited the imperial capital, Geurek kept being surprised in this small city.

It was unmistakably a special structure raised entirely in marble, and even now, a huge number of people were mustering to set the stones for the finishing work.

On one side, guild craftsmen were carving motifs; on the other, they were chiseling sculptures.

‘A large-scale project fit for the Empire…’

Once more, Geurek couldn’t just pass by; he grabbed a burly laborer.

From the man’s answer came a single word: library.

“Library… library… library…”

Geurek repeated it three times. If the Mage Tower had a most important space, it was the library—called the spirit of the world—that gathered and multiplied all knowledge.

The library was the Tower itself, beyond any single mage.

Mages were the only folk who truly grasped a library’s importance, yet no matter how much they preached it, most lords hesitated to build one in their own lands.

Theology and magic, by unwritten rule, stood in taut opposition; and in most countries, religion played an outsized role, so clerical influence outweighed that of mages in the majority of places.

‘Now I am astonished… and starting to fear the negotiation.’

Beyond this lay the official residence. All the facets of the city Geurek hadn’t seen yesterday overflowed before him, and—unluckily—he understood them.

Office. Louis was doing nothing as he waited for Geurek, but to look busy he piled blank papers on his desk.

The pen hovered idly, and in Louis’s head, proposed numbers spun round and round.

‘I have to get at least four thousand gold coins.’

Four thousand gold coins… the Forest Worm’s body, thanks to its difficulty, had a going rate of four billion.

He planned to demand at least four billion, and at most, around six billion.

‘But the introduction was a bit unusual…’

The Generation School. He needed to verify separately, but it didn’t look like he was a pure academic mage. Which meant…

The hypothesis that had circled since yesterday clicked, and Louis slapped the table.

‘He’s the maker. What does he intend to create from a Forest Worm?’

The usual use of a Forest Worm was mostly to brew highly efficient potions.

At the very least, this didn’t feel like a common purpose—but he had no proof yet.

‘Open at six billion. Let’s probe.’

Then an attendant scurried in to report,

“The mage is on his way in.”

Geurek looked much cleaner than yesterday. Louis had provided a robe, and he had changed into it. His dust-caked beard and hair had regained shape, and his small, curious eyes were just as Louis remembered.

And the moment Louis opened the man’s information window, he felt the need to raise the price.

‘His arcane specialty is skin regeneration…?’

Now that he knew what the man needed to hide, the negotiation—without anyone realizing—had moved one step in Louis’s favor.