"No, so you're telling me to indiscriminately hunt down and kill grimoire holders right in the middle of the country? Fuck, are you saying that after considering the fallout?"
[Of course I have. Don't worry. It is a small country, after all. Even if we're talking about mages with grimoires, there won't be that many. Grimoires aren't exactly common, are they?]
A black-haired Northern European. A man with a bushy beard, who had tossed a huge axe onto the bed, frowned as he listened to the voice coming from his phone.
"Yeah, as you said, they're not common. But fuck, if you don't set an upper limit, it's still hard no matter what. Last time while hunting in France, I got marked by knights, so they must still be chasing me now. Even if I hide in this tiny country, I'll be found out quickly. I'm telling you, I can't stay long."
[Knights? Ah, that's a variable. Why did you touch knights?]
"Why did I touch them? They got in the way while I was tearing apart a grimoire holder, so I killed them."
[That's fitting for a man who inherited Viking blood.]
From beyond the receiver, Walter spat out in a voice laced with laughter. The man clicked his tongue.
"Anyway, unless you set a number or pay me more, I'm pulling out of this job too. This fucking mess, I should've known when I came to Korea and you said you'd tell me the target after I arrived…."
[Don't be too angry.]
"Do I look like I wouldn't be angry? The knights are chasing me! One would be one thing, but two or more is hard for me too! Those fuckers aren't called the natural enemies of mages for nothing!"
[I know that well. After all, I'm a mage too.]
"You don't know, you grimoire-spoon-fed bastard. Don't act like you know."
[Oh my, that was a mistake. Indeed, Rune Mages are quite different from mages like us. In crude terms, you're much more… hmm, dim-witted?]
"…Are you picking a fight?"
[Oh, no. I'm sorry. I'm working right now, so the wrong words slipped out. Anyway, returning to the main point, I'll accept your proposal. What did you say? You asked for more money?]
*Riiip.*
Between Walter's words, a sound like flesh being torn echoed. The sharp metallic sound of a blade striking something could be faintly heard too.
[Money is no issue. Our financier is quite capable, so we have more than enough money to rot.]
"Triple the promised reward. And reduce the grimoire upper limit to four."
[Fine. I won't refuse. As an apology for calling you dim-witted.]
"…Hoo, good. Now you're speaking my language."
[Hehe, even a Viking values money more than insults in modern society, it seems.]
"If you can't adapt, you're eliminated. My ancestors were like that."
*Clunk.*
The man roughly placed an iron helm by the bedside and opened his mouth.
"The deadline is three months as promised. If I kill four grimoire owners and seal the grimoires within that time, my job is done. Total pay is 4.5 billion. You take the sealed grimoires yourself."
[Yes. Then please work hard. It would be better if you reported progress from time to time.]
"Vikings don't do that."
[Ha, unbelievable.]
*Click.*
The man hung up before Walter could say more. Then he lay on the bed and drew a picture in the air with his finger.
[ᚱ]
Ancient runic language. Among them, the character meaning journey and order.
*Pah!*
As he drew the stroke, a trail of light connected and carved the letter into the air. It immediately turned green and entered the man's head. Having instantly acquired Korean, he felt a faint headache as he let out a long breath.
"Hoo…."
A throbbing sensation as if his temples were pounding. It wasn't exactly a pleasant pain, but it didn't feel bad either. The man gently stroked his beloved weapon, a huge battle axe, while slightly hunching his upper body.
Before long, the pain disappeared. He lightly bit his thumb to make a wound, then used it to carve rune characters onto the back of his other hand.
"Eoh. Cen. Stan. Sigel."
ᛇ, ᚳ, ᛥ, ᛋ.
Ancient characters meaning death, knowledge, persistence, and victory respectively.
Using them individually would only activate ordinary rune magic, but combining them produced a completely different effect.
*…Crackle.*
A sound as if something was distorting echoed inside the man's head. At the same time, one of his pupils turned blue, and the ether unique to mages began to appear as if it had taken physical form.
The gloves, clothes, helm, and axe engraved with rune characters turned green. The ether merely floating in the air turned transparent.
"…."
He gazed out the window.
An ordinary world. Throughout the city where transparent ether was the majority, colorful ethers rose and undulated like spilled dye here and there.
The color had no particular meaning. What mattered was the size. The ether of a mage who had merely learned magic was nothing special even when checked through rune magic. On the other hand, possessing a grimoire granted an enormous size and luminescent quality that could be clearly confirmed even from afar.
Yes, like that one.
"Violet-hued ether."
The man's pupils focused on a tiny alley on the outskirts of the distant city.
"Shall I start by checking that?"
A seasoned hunter never pulls the trigger immediately after spotting prey. Slowly, after grasping the prey's characteristics, habits, and abilities, only then does he slit its throat.
The man was no different. For now, he left all his weapons in the room, took only a single dagger, and moved his footsteps toward where the ether was visible.
"Pertho."
*Ching.*
As he carved a rune character in the air, his presence faintly changed.
Not invisible, but if there was even a little distance, impossible to recognize—a stealth-type magic.
After confirming the magic had been applied safely, he nodded in satisfaction and slipped out of the hotel.
*
*Clank, clank.*
Each time he moved, a metallic sound reverberated from his entire body as if metal parts were meshing together. The man continued to traverse the dark alleyway, taking in the world visible through the narrow gap of his helm. The huge longsword fixed to his back swung heavily from side to side.
"Hiek, hek…!"
A young man ran ahead of him.
To be precise, it was a doppelganger mimicking human form. The more it hurriedly moved its legs, the more its mimicry unraveled, turning its body into a black, mucus-like mass. Because of that, it lost its balance and staggered intermittently, but the doppelganger didn't care and kept running. As if fleeing from the man.
In truth, it was fleeing. The doppelganger moved its legs with all its might to escape the alley.
However, the distance between the doppelganger and the man was rapidly closing.
A runner and a walker. Which was faster was obvious to anyone, yet bizarrely, with each step the man took, the gap between the two narrowed drastically.
Before long, the back of the doppelganger's head was caught in the man's grasp.
*Crunch!*
Under overwhelming grip strength, the doppelganger's head was slightly crushed.
"Kuaaaaa—uwp!"
The man covered the screaming doppelganger's mouth and dragged it back into the depths of the alley. The doppelganger thrashed, but the more it did, the stronger the force applied. The man didn't budge.
At the deepest part of the alley. A place so dark that even the sun couldn't reach, despite it being midday—there, the man released the doppelganger and looked down at it.
"Monster."
A heavy low tone flowed from his mouth.
The thick coat fluttered slightly in the blowing wind. From the close-fitting white functional shirt wafted a strong scent of blood. As he moved his hand lightly, the silver gauntlet extending from his hand to his elbow produced a metallic *clank*.
Through the gap in his helm, the man scattered red glares as he looked down at the doppelganger.
"The crime of daring to mock people in broad daylight—even if God forgives you, I will not."
"Wh-what did I even do…!"
"What you did is not important. What you would have done is. Acting like a human with a monster's body—this can be seen as the arrogance and contempt of looking down on humanity."
"Wh-what are you—!"
"Such a thing, as a righteous knight, I cannot overlook. If left alone, it would surely cause casualties."
Irrefutable words. The doppelganger fell silent, and the knight drew the shotgun at his waist, aiming it at the doppelganger.
"I didn't come to catch you, but having found trash, I must dispose of it. You worthless things are useless to this world."
"W-wait a minute!"
The doppelganger's eyes widened as it saw the firearm and tried to rise, but the man paid no heed and hooked his finger on the trigger.
"So disappear."
*Bwooooh!!!*
As he pulled the trigger, a sound like a horn burst from the shotgun. The lead shot scraped past the barrel and obliterated the doppelganger's head, and the knight stomped on the remaining flesh, crushing it.
*Splat! Squish!*
The doppelganger's body, changing from red to black mucus in an instant, melted sloppily onto the ground. The knight took a match from his pocket, lit it, threw it onto the doppelganger's corpse, and turned away without hesitation.
*Whooosh!!*
The flames consuming the monster rapidly grew. The hot heat beat against the knight's back, and he replaced the shotgun at his waist, looking up at the sky.
"Where are you, Rune Mage."
His voice, heard by no one, scattered into the void.
*
Though a fortune of 2.8 billion had drained from his account, Ian merely sighed and didn't scold Amelia. If she had acted as if it was only natural with her aggression stat at MAX, Ian would have seriously gotten angry too, but that wasn't the case.
The thirst for knowledge toward magic was something any mage naturally possessed. Ian knew well how difficult it was to resist that desire.
To begin with, novice mages required a lot of initial expenses. Ian was the exception; most mages couldn't even start magic properly without money.
There was a reason old mages started with producing magic materials. These days you could buy vellum with money, but in the past, they made everything themselves. It was the same for other things. Even now, without money, it was the same.
So 2.8 billion was an initial investment….
An investment….
"Hmm…."
No matter how he looked at it, wasn't it a bit too much?
While Ian was thinking that and sighing deeply, Amelia received an envelope containing items from Pleas.
"Th-thank you…!"
"Use it well. Things your master buys you for the first time must be used with a grateful and reverent heart."
"Yes!"
Amelia gripped the envelope and smiled broadly, hehe. Ian watched her with a bitter smile.
That was when.
[Warning! Warning!]
An alarm burst from the reverse-targeting sensor attached to the hem of Ian's coat.
A warning sound ringing only in his head. Ian's expression automatically hardened into a cold one, and the sensor continued its alarm.
[Hostile intent detected toward a target within one meter of the owner! Northwest, 3 km! Northwest, 3 km! Approaching! Approaching!]