Became a Medieval Fantasy Wizard

Chapter 156

TL/Editor: raei

Schedule: 5/week

Illustrations: None

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Heavenly Wizard Bertholdt.

[Heavenly Wizard] was originally an official title from the Golden Empire era.

Wizards existed even in the Golden Empire days (in fact, that was their golden age).

Heavenly Wizard was the highest rank in the imperial magic department, a wise advisor position helping the governor and regent run the empire.

Heavenly Wizard was originally a Golden Empire office.

Yet he can brazenly go around with the title [Heavenly Wizard] because...

The organization he belongs to, the [Golden Rule Society], is obsessed with the Golden Empire.

You know how when some people get too obsessed with something, they start using all sorts of weird titles?

Like how during the real-life Japanese Empire era, there were black-haired nobles running around calling themselves counts and viscounts.

'We're the legitimate successors of the ancient Golden Empire!'

'So let's use titles from the Golden Empire!'

In the Golden Empire, the number 1000 was used to mean something like superior or awesome.

So Heavenly Wizard just meant a really, really exceptional wizard.

The name Heavenly Wizard itself was undoubtedly a chuunibyou name steeped in pretension and ancient empire obsession.

But Bertholdt's skills were the real deal.

'A weirdo who wanders around looking for Golden Empire era tombs.'

Bertholdt was part of the Golden Rule Society and a black wizard, but like most wizards, he was a bit off in the head.

He went around the empire collecting the bones of soldiers who died in the Golden Empire era.

All because he aimed to resurrect the Golden Empire's army as undead (...).

So the nobles of the Holy Empire didn't acknowledge Bertholdt.

The Golden Empire fell ages ago, why the f*ck are you trying to bring them back now?

Are you trying to steal my land?!

But conversely, Bertholdt's undead army became a useful force for the Golden Rule Society.

That's why Bertholdt's position was quite high within the society.

'Even if it's not the real body...'

Bertholdt is a wizard with solid skills.

Yet Ian wiped him out with a single spell.

Using a strange magic that even Sir Leshach had never seen before.

Sir Leshach couldn't help but marvel at Ian's magic.

"Impressive work, Ian."

He sincerely praised Ian's skills.

As someone who dabbled in magic himself, Sir Leshach knew just how extraordinary Ian's magic was.

But Ian himself seemed a bit underwhelmed.

'I thought he was supposed to be a famous wizard from the Golden Rule Society... but he wasn't much.'

Ian had been on high alert.

So when his opponent fell so easily, he felt a bit cheated.

If Bertholdt knew, he'd be foaming at the mouth.

"You called him Heavenly Wizard Bertholdt, right? He seemed pretty weak."

"???"

Sir Leshach was momentarily dumbfounded by Ian's words.

What the hell? Is this some kind of bluff?

"Did you not see the deathly power he gathered?"

"I saw it. But he didn't do anything with it."

That's because you f*cking blasted a lightning bolt through his head, you idiot.

Sir Leshach struggled to grasp what Ian was thinking.

It was like watching a swordfight between masters, seeing one fell a formidable opponent, then saying, 'He died when I stabbed his throat? How disappointing.'

Isn't it weirder to survive getting hit by lightning?

'...Is it because he's a wizard?'

Sir Leshach decided to just accept it and move on.

Right. Wizards are all a bunch of weirdos.

"Indeed. What you destroyed was just Bertholdt's possessed body. His real body is hiding somewhere around here. He might be rushing over with an undead army as we speak."

Sir Leshach said calmly.

Of course, the chances of Bertholdt launching a full-scale attack were low.

The village is full of Sir Leshach's men-at-arms, two wizards, a knight, and one big idiot who could join the fight.

There's no f*cking Golden Rule Society secret hidden here. Why would he throw him and his army into this?

Of course, wizards are erratic beings, so there's a chance he might attack in a fit of rage.

But Bertholdt is a cunning black wizard. You can tell just by how he tried to seduce Maria with his nefarious scheme.

Now that his surprise attack has failed, Bertholdt won't reveal himself recklessly.

"Night is the time of the dead. Stay alert until dawn breaks."

"Yes sir!"

Sir Leshach's soldiers shouted vigorously.

That night, the villagers huddled together under Sir Leshach's protection.

The lord, young lord, and their retainers all welcomed Sir Leshach's protection.

Ian found it a bit absurd.

"Isn't this their f*cking land?"

The homeowners getting protection from a guest?

And with such big smiles on their faces?

"Oh Sir Leshach! The jewel of the church! The shining silver knight!"

"You seem to have energy to spare. Stop yapping and get some sleep."

The young lord was clinging to Sir Leshach's side, spouting nothing but flattery.

Belenka spoke dryly.

"A prime example of an incompetent noble. It's nothing new for shitheads like him to strut around."

Noble titles in the empire are fiercely protected. It's to keep the emperor in check.

Originally, in principle, all imperial lands belong to the emperor.

But the land is so vast and underpopulated that due to administrative limitations, it's 'lent out'.

So if the emperor wants to reclaim land, there's no problem in principle.

But in reality, there are a ton of problems.

Nobles, of course, don't want to give up their lands.

So when the emperor asks for land back, they just ignore the request.

The emperor needs a clear reason to take back land.

But nobles who don't want to lose their land constantly cry 'Unfair!', so it's really f*cking hard to take land away without a damn good reason.

They've turned the first emperor's 'kindness' into a 'right'.

That's why even if a noble is stupid, lazy, and utterly unlikable, as long as they're born noble, they can keep their land.

Someone's going to take away their land because they're incompetent?

That would violate the nobles' sacred rights, so other nobles would rise up in swarms.

That's why nobles in the rural frontier can wield power like f*cking kings.

No matter how lazy they are, they won't get kicked out.

Who else is going to meddle in what happens in my territory?

Of course, if they do some batshit insane stuff that's basically begging to have their land taken away, they might lose it. But barring that level of idiocy, it's an iron rice bowl.

"In a way, you could call it cunning. He solved his territory's security problem without spending a single coin."

A strong, prideful noble would have hated Sir Leshach's visit.

Saying sh*t like, this is my land, why the f*ck is the Pope's army wandering around?

But the young lord over there is shaking his tambourine with gusto...

In the end, he got the troublesome necromancer removed for free.

In industry terms, this is called 'a lucky break'.

"As expected of Sir Leshach!"

"I told you to sleep."

Sir Leshach looked at the young lord with an expression that said he was sick of this sh*t.

But the young lord kept persistently lobbing suck-up comments at Sir Leshach.

Is Sir Leshach some kind of comment dumpster or what?

Just unilaterally spouting off whatever he wants to say, isn't that just harassment at this point?

"Let's get some sleep too."

"Indeed. It's been an unusually long day."

---

---

Ian set up camp in a quiet, dim corner.

He didn't like camping when there were perfectly good houses all around.

But what could he do? Who knows what threats might be lurking in those dark woods beyond.

Since everyone else was sleeping outside, it was better for Ian to join in.

If Bertholdt attacked again, he'd have to fight back.

"Ah! Ian! Come here!"

Kira had made a late-night snack with jerky and flour.

Ian, hungry from all the shouting, quickly grabbed a bowl and sat down.

As he spooned up the stew, Ian examined the unfamiliar guest.

"..."

Next to Kira sat a black-haired beauty eating stew.

It was Maria.

All the misunderstandings surrounding Maria had been cleared up. The villagers now know she didn't kill anyone.

But Maria didn't return to the villagers' side.

The misunderstanding was resolved. But the wounds in her heart hadn't disappeared.

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah. No suspicious people around."

There were an unusually high number of torches around Ian's camp. Kira had stuck them in just in case.

If any suspicious person approached, those torches would instantly transform into flamethrowers.

"What the hell are we doing here?"

Belenka muttered as she ladled a heaping portion of stew into Jubal's bowl.

Ian's hometown is in the northwest of the empire. It was a region with few people even in the sparsely populated empire lands.

While gloomy space-time wizards wandered about, gloomy necromancers were rare to see.

But as soon as he came south, he ran into black wizards...

The south was definitely a more turbulent land than the north.

"Ian. After we rescue Professor Inglan, how about leaving the empire altogether?"

"Where do you want to go?"

"The Roland Kingdom? Or it wouldn't be bad to see the Coral Sea."

Belenka's suggestion was a bit unexpected.

"I thought you'd say we should jump into the war and make a name for ourselves."

"It hasn't started yet. And I'm sick of seeing these black wizards. We should both live long, healthy lives."

Ian nodded.

It would be pretty f*cking stupid to die picking a fight with some black wizard.

Wizards tend to flock together. The more similar mysteries they handle, the better they understand each other.

What the f*ck are you supposed to talk about with guys who specialize in necromancy and demon magic?

Ian chatted with his companions for a while.

Then suddenly, he felt a quiet gaze.

"..."

Maria, who had cleaned her bowl, was silently staring at Ian.

"Oh. Want another bowl?"

As Ian reached for the stew pot, Maria shook her head.

"I've had enough. But..."

"Really? You barely ate one ladle-full."

Kira chimed in from the side.

She clearly ate less on purpose, trying to be considerate.

Ian smiled and said:

"Is that so? Want more? By the way, you can eat as much as you want."

Ian possessed the magical power to produce food at any time.

He could barge into any house, say 'I'm the wizard Ian', and make flour and eggs pour forth.

If that's not power, what the f*ck is?

"Then, gladly..."

Maria shyly held out her bowl.

As expected, she had refused at first out of consideration.

Maria parted her lips slightly and took a spoonful of stew.

"It really is delicious."

"Really?"

"Yes. It's as good as the stew my grandmother used to make."

"..."

An awkward atmosphere briefly passed by.

Maria continued speaking as if nothing was wrong.

"My grandmother, she went senile and used to say she was a princess of a small country. But that must have been a lie. I can tell just from the taste of the stew."

"The taste of the stew?"

Ian responded, and Maria smiled sweetly.

"Yes. There's no way a princess of a country could make such delicious stew. She must have been a cook."

Ian crossed his arms comfortably.

"I'm curious about something."

"What is it?"

"Your way of speaking? Your accent? Did you learn that from your grandmother?"

Maria nodded.

"Yes. It's a bit strange, isn't it? She said this was the court's way of speaking... Hehe. Words from someone who probably never set foot in a palace in her life."

Just then, Kira gave a slight look from the side.

It was a look that conveyed affirmation.

Which meant that Maria's way of speaking was actually similar to that of a real court noble.

'Perhaps?'

Ian felt a bit curious.

It's just a possibility, but.

Maybe Maria's foster grandmother really was a princess of a small country.