"Now you understand, don't you? You've never done me a favor. You're nothing more than an unwelcome guest who betrayed his employer and came here on his own whim."
At Lucian's cold reply, Colin nodded.
The spell he had just used was one that required a long period of preparation to cast even once.
If it had only been blocked a single time, they would have been slaughtered next without offering any meaningful resistance.
Given that a defensive-type scroll had been in play, Colin's betrayal would not have changed the outcome in any significant way.
"I understand. Then, as a wandering mage with no ties, please at least allow me to say one thing to Your Grace the Duke."
"Go on."
"Please take me in."
At the out-of-the-blue request, Lucian blinked.
"Are you saying you want to enter my service?"
"Yes. I wish to work for Your Grace the Duke."
"You're insane."
Lucian let out a hollow laugh.
It wasn't deliberate—the words slipped out naturally from sheer disbelief.
"Do you even know where my loyalty lies right now?"
"You serve the Imperial Family."
"And the Imperial Family kills any mage it sees on sight. So why should I risk being branded a traitor to employ you? More importantly—"
Lucian pointed toward the spot where the lightning had struck earlier.
The charred remains of Godfrey and his aides were still scattered across the ground.
"Now that those men are dead, I have to prove my innocence. There's no better way than handing over the person directly involved—you."
Calyx could claim that Lucian had simply been struck dead by lightning.
But Lucian had already aligned himself with the Imperial Family, which possessed countless magic tools.
Even if the same claim were made, it would be far less convincing with the Imperial Family backing him.
"Tell me. Why should I give up all these advantages and keep someone who brings me nothing but disadvantages? No—what did you even trust to come to me in the first place?"
By any rational standard, no sane mage would ever approach Lucian.
Everything Lucian had done so far painted him as the Emperor's most loyal hound.
Anyone who knew about the Imperial witch hunts should have fled at the mere sight of his shadow.
Under Lucian's suspicious gaze, Colin let out a sigh and spoke.
"I came here because I trusted another mage's divination."
"…Divination?"
"Not all mages are those who spew fire and call down lightning. Prophecy and divination are branches of magic as well."
With a half-resigned expression, Colin calmly explained.
That he had an acquaintance who was exceptionally skilled in divination.
That this acquaintance had made a prophecy concerning Lucian.
And that he had betrayed Godfrey's group because he believed in that prophecy.
"According to the divination, the moment I let Your Grace slip away, you would become a reaper and kill me. But if I held on to you, you would become a benefactor."
"So you came to me believing nothing more than a single divination? Are you out of your mind?"
To Lucian, it was completely incomprehensible.
No matter how accurate divination might be, it was hardly something one could call solid evidence.
Yet this man had leapt straight into a lion's jaws based on nothing but that.
Noticing Lucian's gaze, Colin gave a bitter smile.
"I suppose you wouldn't understand. But Your Grace, those who have no hope are forced to cling to anything—be it divination or otherwise."
"What do you mean?"
"It has been three hundred years since the mages' rebellion failed and the persecution began. How many mages do you think have been hunted down in that time?"
They couldn't conduct proper research, and even scraping by to survive was difficult.
Some even starved to death, their magical talent rendered meaningless.
Failing to find disciples and leaving no knowledge behind became commonplace, and even those who barely managed to take on a student often died in witch hunts before teaching them properly.
Naturally, the number of mages dwindled rapidly with each passing era, and many schools vanished entirely.
"I'm no different from the others. I've barely survived through constant threats to my life, relying on the magic my master taught me and sheer improvisation. But even that has reached its limit."
A life spent hiding, never knowing when death would come, unable even to raise a new disciple.
He made a living pretending to be an assassin, yet enemies lurked everywhere, ready to stab him in the back the moment he slipped.
Friends disappeared one by one, leaving behind only rumors that they'd been dragged off by witch-hunting units and killed horribly.
As he grew exhausted with life and lost hope, he received a strange divination from an old schoolmate he met after a long time.
"If it had foretold only death, that would be one thing. But the divination hinted at even a sliver of hope. To someone worn down by life, that was reason enough to stake everything."
"..."
"If you still cannot believe me, then I have no way left to persuade you. But please understand that all of this is spoken from the heart."
After finishing, Colin lowered his head.
He had nothing more to say—his posture plainly said that if Lucian wished to kill him, then so be it.
As the silence stretched on, Lucian rested his chin on his hand and quietly sank into thought.
How ironic. Just when I needed a mage, one shows up to serve me because of a divination.
Putting aside how suspicious it sounded, the likelihood that the mage before him had fabricated everything was vanishingly small.
If not for a divination, there was virtually no reason for a mage to seek Lucian out first.
But even if every word were true, whether this mage was trustworthy enough to keep at his side was a separate issue altogether.
The bigger problem is that there's nowhere to put him. From the guards to the servants, they're all people sent by the Imperial Family. No matter where I hide him, he'd be discovered in no time.
Letting him go outright raised another concern—whether they'd ever be able to reconnect.
The man was a fugitive, while Lucian was no longer free to move in secret, meaning any plans could easily fall apart.
On top of that, there was still the unresolved matter of explaining Godfrey's death.
…No. There is one way.
Lucian refined the solution that had just flashed into his mind.
It relied somewhat on luck, but if it worked, it could resolve all his problems at once.
"I'll make you a proposal."
"P–Proposal?"
"One where I gain everything, and you lose everything. If it goes according to plan, you might achieve your goal as well."
At the ominous words, Colin shuddered involuntarily.
What on earth was he about to suggest?
A short while later, after hearing the plan, Colin stared at Lucian with a dumbfounded expression.
***
"What do you mean His Grace has returned from the Hundred-Day Hunt?"
The northern nobles' eyes went wide at the unexpected news.
There were still five days left in the Hundred-Day Hunt—yet he had returned after only ten days.
"Did he give up? On an event he proposed himself?"
"That's impossible! Unless there was some kind of incident—"
"W–Well, the situation turned out to be more complicated than expected. His Grace said he would explain personally, so please wait a moment."
At the attendant's words, the northern nobles murmured among themselves as they headed toward the banquet hall.
What on earth could have happened for that arrogant young upstart to return in the middle of the event?
Amid the unsettled atmosphere, Norbek gripped his cane with sweat-soaked hands.
He had been waiting only for good news—yet his son hadn't returned, and only the assassination target had.
Don't tell me the assassination failed? Then what happened to Godfrey? How did that bastard come back—?
BANG—
At that moment, a loud crash echoed from the doors as Lucian strode in.
The way he advanced without hesitation, his expression rigid, made it clear that something was very wrong.
"Y–Your Grace the Duke, we gre—!"
"Godfrey is dead."
"19"
"He tried to kill me and ended up dead instead. A truly devious trap. I never imagined the Count to be such a meticulous schemer."
All eyes turned at once toward Norbek.
Norbek's face drained of color, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly.
"Godfrey… my son is dead?"
"Bring him in."
Instead of answering, Lucian issued an order to his retainers.
Moments later, they dragged in a man who was tightly bound from head to toe.
The instant Norbek recognized his face, his eyes flew open.
"You—!"
The trickster who had claimed he could call down lightning.
The man he'd attached to his son, telling him to use this one instead of a blade.
Why had he returned in such a state?
Lucian shot Norbek a brief glance, then spoke to Colin.
"Say it yourself. Who you are, and why you were brought here."
"I–I am the mage Colin. Of the Celestial Astrology School. I was hired by that old man to assassinate Your Grace."
"What!?"
Gasps of shock erupted from all around.
An assassination attempt had been expected to some degree—but to think someone would commission an unlicensed mage, the very thing the Imperial Family so vehemently hunted down.
"What is the meaning of this!? A mage!? Are you saying that man is an unlicensed mage!?"
Glen, who had held back until now, shouted with a face flushed red.
Hiring an unlicensed mage was an act bordering on treason.
It was far too grave a matter to be used lightly as a trap to frame a political enemy.
"Your Grace, you must explain yourself properly! If that man truly is an unlicensed mage—!"
"The story isn't finished yet, so calm yourself and listen. Mage, continue."
"Y–Yes!"
Intimidated by Glen's razor-sharp aura, Colin flinched—but continued his story nonetheless.
How he had wandered from place to place, only to have his identity exposed by the House of Count Calyx.
How he had tried to flee, but was captured and forced to work like a slave for the count's household.
And finally, how he had been compelled to accompany Godfrey for the purpose of assassinating Lucian.
"…And so, unable to endure it any longer, I used magic to kill not the assassination target, but Godfrey and his followers instead, and then surrendered to Your Grace. Your Grace immediately brought me here."
"You damnable sorcerer bastard! How dare you spew such blatant lies!?"
For the first time in his life, Norbek felt as though every blood vessel in his body was about to burst from rage.
Captured because his identity was exposed and forced to work like a slave?
What utter nonsense!
This man had willingly sold his abilities, pocketed gold coins as payment, and roamed freely wherever he pleased—what kind of garbage was he spouting now!?
Yet Colin calmly feigned ignorance, surveying the room with a serious expression.
"I can provide evidence, if you wish. I can tell you the exact location of the villa where that old man confined me, as well as its internal layout. You can verify it yourselves. It's hidden in a place difficult for ordinary people to find."
It had been Colin himself who had first requested a residence somewhere out of public sight, and Norbek had granted it.
After living there for several months, of course he would know the layout inside.
"I was also taken through several secret passages managed by the House of Count Calyx."
Because he was a mage, being seen by others would have been dangerous—so the secret passages had been shared with him.
Besides, they had planned to kill him off once everything was finished anyway.
"More importantly, the catalysts required for my magic were supplied to me regularly, so there should be records of that as well."
And weren't those catalysts things Colin himself had demanded in the first place?
Faced with this completely unexpected betrayal, a grinding sound escaped from Norbek's mouth.
"Count Norbek—are his words true?"
Glen's cold gaze turned toward Norbek.
Yet Norbek felt no fear at all.
There was something he had to confirm first—treason or not.
"My son… what happened to Godfrey?"
"I told you. He died after taking the spell meant for me instead. You should have a rough idea of what that means."
"And you expect me to believe that? You could've killed him yourself."
"I figured you'd say that, so I made sure to bring your son along. Fortunately, he became quite a bit lighter, so transporting him wasn't difficult."
Lucian spoke with a faint, crooked smile as he looked at the pale-faced Norbek.
"Would you like to see him? I can't guarantee you'll be able to recognize him, though."
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