The term “Wizard” is known to any mage. Wizards were, in a way, the ancestors of mages, active during the Era of Forgotten Gods. Each one was a powerful entity capable of twisting the laws of the world at will.

However, beyond that, little else was known, as most information had been lost. Numerous relics and artifacts from the Era of Forgotten Gods are still being discovered, but those related to wizards are surprisingly nonexistent. What remains of the wizards’ magic is now called “primitive magic,” which is not considered particularly appealing, as it was already researched a hundred years ago by a single scholar.

Silicaman, a seventh-tier mage enchanted by the wizards described in those texts, spent an enormous amount of time researching them with his students, eventually mastering the use of ancient magic through their phrases and symbols. That was all well and good, but the problem was that the ancient magic they deciphered turned out to be more rudimentary than they had imagined.

The alignment of magical power was inaccurate, making the manifestation of magic unstable and incredibly slow to emerge. Moreover, despite all these shortcomings, its power was disappointingly low.

Despite successfully recreating the wizards’ magic, it manifested incompletely, as if an important puzzle piece were missing. The academy ruled that the wizards’ magic was currently infeasible.

Thus, among mages, it gradually became forgotten under the term “primitive magic,” and only a few of Silicaman’s disciples, unable to let go of the illusion of wizards, continued to use one or two of the phrases they inherited.

Nowadays, most mages are unaware that primitive magic even involves these phrases or symbols.

However, for Celaime Mikardo, this was not important. What mattered was... the fact that Marquis Palatio was a wizard...!? Possibly, a wizard from the forgotten era who could help him advance from the eighth to the ninth tier!

Of course, his speculation might be premature, but he was convinced of it based on a few clues. Marquis Palatio had effortlessly passed through a gate that no one else could solve, and he seemed to easily interpret phrases that even Celaime could not read.

More than anything, it was “that thing” attached to his back—an entity that could completely ignore the laws of this world—that was with him.

Moreover, he had already used more than five phrases perfectly and delicately, like the magic of this era, something even the seventh-tier mage Silicaman had not been able to replicate perfectly.

It would be impossible for the marquis, just over his twenties, unless he was indeed a mage from ancient times.

Looking at it this way, things I didn’t understand when investigating him now make sense, Celaime thought, recalling an incident filled with questions from when he had been investigating the marquis.

In just a few years, both the former count and the second and first sons died under mysterious circumstances, and the massive underworld organization under his command was wiped out in one day.

Although rumors were rife at the time that Marquis Palatio Alon was behind it, there were also many questions about him due to his young age and the fact that the huge organization, Avalon, which he commanded, was cleared in a day without any noticeable signs or movement.

Celaime felt there was something odd about that. But if the assumption that Marquis Palatio was a wizard held true, the underworld thugs would be mere bugs to a wizard who could freely twist and overturn the world’s laws.

So—Did he steal a body? Or is it possession, or an artifact? Or perhaps reincarnation magic practiced in ancient times? Why is he hiding his identity? Is there something? No matter, it doesn’t matter.

With a hint of madness in his eyes, Celaime Mikardo resolved, I will befriend him without annoying him too much. I’ll become friends and learn the magic. That’s how I’ll reach the ninth ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ tier!

He let out a creepy, inexplicable chuckle.

This guy, why is he suddenly like this?

Parkline, watching him, felt uneasy but showed a tiny bit of concern.

*****

Just as Celaime was engrossed in this peculiar conclusion, Alon was showing Heinkel the Kalgunias Pact Ring.

[It looks like it’s just outright refusing to be summoned, doesn’t it?]

“What should I do in this case?”

[The method to make it come out of the ring is simple. Instead of just pouring magical power into it, distribute it lightly and try inserting it only into the symbol.]

Following Heinkel’s advice and channeling the magic only into the symbol, the ring began to tremble.

“Q—” For the first time, the summoning was successful, albeit very small.

“...Huh?”

Alon looked, puzzled, at the snake on his arm. It clearly seemed to be “the Receiver, Basiliora,” but it was only a fraction of its usual size—perhaps one ten-thousandth.

[When you want to conserve magical power and summon a familiar for conversation, this is how you do it. Such a call cannot be refused,] Heinkel explained, resolving the question.

However, that was only momentary.

“This damn human! Locking me in this ring!! Release me right now!!”

“I don’t know how to release you.”

“Ha— Do you think I’ll move according to your wishes?! Never! There will never be a day when I respond to your summons or follow your words!!!”

Basiliora, tiny on his arm, looked as if he were foaming at the mouth in rage.

I didn’t expect it, but the rebellion is stronger than I thought.

“Release me—release me now!!!!!!” Basiliora continued to rant despite the situation.

Anyone could see that he was determined not to listen.

Honestly, Alon wanted to smack him, but since spirits couldn’t be touched, he thought calmly.

What options should I give him?

He had prepared quite a lot just in case something like this happened with Basiliora.

[May I ask you one thing?] Heinkel suddenly asked.

“Yes.”

[Is the reason you came looking for me because of that ring, not just for guidance?]

“I wanted guidance, but the immediate reason for my visit is indeed that.”

[Could you leave it with me for a moment?]

“This ring?”

[Yes. I’ll fix it for you.]

Her voice carried a thick hint of laughter.

“Would that be okay?”

[Of course. It’s not difficult for me.]

“Then I would appreciate your help.” Alon respectfully handed over the ring.

“Release me!!! I’m telling you to let me out, you primitive human!!!!!!!!!!”

[Come back for it tomorrow.] She smiled and waved her hand.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” Alon bowed and left the ring with her.

Filled with hatred from Alon’s trickery, Basiliora, trapped in the Kalgunias Pact Ring, was seething not only with hatred toward Alon but also, realizing that the Thunder Serpent tribe had also played a role in capturing him, vowed to kill them all once he escaped.

“Release me, you empty shell of a soul! If you do, I will—”

Even now, his resolve hadn’t changed, and he tried to confront the spirit in front of him just after Alon had left, but—

[AAAAAHHHHHH-!!!!!!!!!!]

“!?”

At that moment, Heinkel suddenly screamed out loud, freezing Basiliora in place.

KRACKKKK~!

“!!”

Basiliora watched as books filling the space dropped like rain due to the vibrations emitted by the spirit.

Then, suddenly catching a wooden puppet that had popped up from somewhere in Heinkel’s hand—

[What is this suddenly appearing out of nowhere?]

Confused only briefly, Heinkel gripped what she held and lifted it.

[WHY!!!! MUST!!!! I ENDURE!!!! THIS!!!!!]

CRACK!

She slammed it down on the ground.

The wooden puppet bent in half. However, that did not seem to be the end, as she picked up a thick ancient tome from the fallen books—

[EEEEKKKKAAAAAAHHHHH!!!]

She began smashing the wooden puppet with the corner of the book.

Bang! Bang! Crunch! Thud!

With each swing of the book, the wooden puppet caved in a bit more.

Crack-!

Soon the head of the wooden puppet shattered, scattering fragments everywhere. However, Heinkel, apparently not satisfied, placed the puppet on the shelf and slammed her fist into it.

Thud!

The wooden puppet made a creaking noise. Despite the violence, Basiliora found himself shrinking back at the sight of the half-broken spirit continuing to headbutt the neck area.

[Huff huff~!]

Heinkel, possessing a physical strength uncharacteristic for a mage, continued to obliterate the wooden puppet amidst the scattered books, breathing heavily. With those eerie eyes on her, Basiliora cautiously spoke up,

“Um, that, first, calm down—”

...Should I say it? Should I tell her? Basiliora hesitated.

Despite being trapped in the ring, Basiliora was a god with tremendous pride. He began to wonder whether it was appropriate to use honorifics with a mere spirit.

“What did you say, you little—?”

It was a mistake.

Crunch!

Heinkel grabbed him at the speed of light before he could even finish his sentence.

[Now, who do you think caused all this?]

With a chilling gaze. Before he could even be shocked by the fact that his sealed body had been grabbed, Basiliora cringed under the fierce murderous intent. Yet, almost as if his pride was hurt by his own shrinking, he raised his voice—

“Whose fault? I didn’t do anything!!!”

[...]

Heinkel’s expression grew increasingly terrifying, and Basiliora hesitantly added,

“Uh... uh, just a moment—”

The archmage, with a sinister smile, gripped Basiliora tightly and moved toward the half-destroyed puppet.

“Uh, wait just a moment—”

[Yes, that’s right. Our snake did nothing wrong. I think so too.]

“No, wait? Hello?”

[...]

“Right, it was my fault.” Basiliora, realizing he was in serious trouble, desperately tried using formal speech.

[So, may I just let off some steam, then? Is that okay?]

Heinkel wrapped her fist around his body like a belt and then smashed the puppet down.

“Wait, wait! Let’s talk, with words! We are not beasts, we are beings of intellect— AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH~!!!!”

Basiliora’s terrible scream echoed through the library.

...Until morning.

*****

The next day, Alon set out to attend a lecture by the Blue Tower Master. He wanted to listen to the lectures of the tower masters, just as Milan had mentioned the day before.

Since he had to meet Heinkel at night, he had some free time during the day.

Unfortunately—

“I’m sorry, but the reservation is already closed, and there are no more seats available, so entry is impossible.”

He couldn’t attend the lecture due to all the seats being taken.

I didn’t know there was a reservation.

He briefly sighed as he watched other mages hand in their papers and enter.

“Perhaps, could I stand at the back and listen?”

“No. Even though you are a marquis and a noble, this place is for everyone to study magic equally, so such unfair entry is not possible.”

Feeling disappointed, he asked just in case, but the firm reply came immediately. The response was so cold and somewhat brisk that he felt a slight dissatisfaction, but it was a fact he couldn’t change, so he was about to turn back when—

“Marquis Palatio?”

“...Tower Master?” Alon suddenly had a chance to meet the Blue Tower Master.

“Ah, hello! Blue Tower Master.”

“Ah, yes.”

Just moments ago, the mage who had been wearing a cold expression now greeted Celaime with eyes filled with admiration. Celaime lightly accepted the greeting.

“No, why is Your Excellency here?”

“...?”

Suddenly, he addressed Alon with formal speech. Feeling puzzled only briefly, Alon decided to answer the question first.

“I had some free time and thought I would attend a lecture.”

“My lecture?”

“Yes.”

“Gasp—”

“?”

“This is a great honor! That Your Excellency would attend my lecture!”

At this, Celaime grinned broadly, leaving Alon baffled. Alon knew that the Blue Tower Master didn’t care much for authority but was also aware that, when it came to magic, he was as stiff-backed as anyone could be.

“Come in, come in! You there! Quickly, let him through.”

“What? But the seats are already—”

“Isn’t it my lecture?”

“Uh, yes, but—”

“Then what are you waiting for! Quickly, let him in!”

Because of this—

...Why is he like this?

Alon was at a loss for words. “????”

The other mages queuing to attend the Tower Master’s lecture also looked on with bewildered expressions.