He fell asleep calculating how long it'd take to reach the capital.
Two weeks round trip. With some luck, three, but messengers weren't peddlers. A letter from the duke was important enough to hasten it. How long would it take to learn magic?
He had no money and had yet to meet the Green Mage.
"Don't let Gabrielle meddle," Lu boomed in his dreams. This, too, and he didn't say why.
'Why' was important.
"Why'd you help?" the boy asked Vargas, for example, first thing in the morning.
"Lord Halstadt thought kindness was an investment. People he helped would help him later."
"Nope," Konrad shook his head, "you could've told your men to let me go. Instead, you lied—"
"Did I?" the captain smiled. "Nobles gain and lose titles, and while most inherit them, it's not rare to earn them. Loyalty, heroic deeds, or impressing the king—"
Early forties, greying hair, wearing his uniform without frills. And he loved talking.
Konrad remembered how he tried to check his stats in his childhood.
He couldn't, since he wasn't in a game, but the most telltale sign was that he couldn't skip dialogues. Whatever point the man had, he took his time to get there.
"Merchants pleaded to stop the guards—" Did the topic change? He zoned out. "Three recognized you as Haiten's Prodigy, swearing on Maou Midori, that—"
Uh, that stupid name again. Why'd he have to drag it out?
"So you say the peddlers I helped came to my rescue?" It still didn't explain his lie.
"Like the tribes saved by the Halstadts, safe under his banners—" Wow, okay. He figured it out. On the surface, he preached about selfless acts, but— The captain was an opportunist.
"You want 'my' house to return, and reward your services." Konrad summarized.
"Traders call it high-risk, high-return investments."
Nope. More like suicide. "If that letter reaches the king, he'll execute us both," the boy scoffed.
"You mean this?" Vargas waved a parchment with the duke's seal. "I'll hold onto it for a few days."
Konrad's eyes widened. "Burn it," he pleaded, but the captain yanked it away.
"No. But magic's rare and powerful. Every wielder holds high ranks." There he was again, talking. "Bishops are precious subjects, and mages are even more special."
Of course, magic had to be powerful. Konrad put his life on the line to meet a mage—
"How long would it take to learn magic?" he rushed him.
"Nobody knows," a shrug. "A saint's blessing happens in an instant. But for most, not even a lifetime's enough to learn a single spell. Mages— Kasserlane only has three of them."
"What?! How long will you hold that letter, then?"
"A month, give or take," Vargas said, all casual. "The merchants said you're a prodigy—"
If only he were dreaming, but this nightmare was real. The captain didn't help; he kicked him off a cliff, so he either learned to levitate or crashed and burned. Motivating—in a sadistic way.
"I haven't even met the Mage." Konrad's chest constricted. "And his apprentice stole my—"
"Yes, that's your luck," Vargas grinned. "He has a bounty on his head, and given you're a noble—"
"Means I can demand that his master teach me as compensation," the boy cut him short.
Would that work? It had to; Vargas burned all bridges.
The boy's brooding ended when heavy perfume announced Gabrielle's arrival later that day.
"Ser Konrad." Her brutish guards contrasted with her delicate grace. "How're you feeling?"
"Better, My Lady, thank you," Konrad's smile didn't reach his eyes.
Why did he have to avoid her? And what was this smell? Incense?
"To think that Haiten's Prodigy was the Halstadts' lost heir—" she couldn't finish without a cough. The boy offered water, but the guards almost beheaded him when he approached.
Right. Distance.
"Still, you've met Lilith—ana," she said once her coughing eased. "What's she like in this world?"
Did she say 'this world'? What did the ginger have to do with anything?
"Um, she has cat ears, and, uh, red hair," Konrad mumbled. Was this part of his interrogation? It was strange to describe one beauty to another. "And she has freckles for days."
The duke's daughter pondered.
"Please, beware of her. She's—" Another cough interrupted her plea. Considering Lu said the same thing about her— What was going on? "Have you also met a girl known as Eyna?"
"I, uh, have to disappoint you, My Lady." Konrad shook his head.
With Lu's warning, he'd deny it even if he did.
After she left, he couldn't laze around. Once he could walk, he set out for Eytjangard.
In a petty revenge, he took Vargas, too. "I ran into monsters before," he told the twitching guard. "It'd be a shame if they attacked me after how your men treated me."
The man obeyed, but he wasn't happy. Too bad.
Konrad decided to abuse him as much as possible for setting him up. Giving him a month?!
The boy was no prodigy. His inherited memories gave him a head start, but that was it. He wasn't a fast learner, even dropping out, and hated programming the most.
Well, he only knew the basics, and it was more boring than difficult.
Spending an hour to print 'Hello World' was a waste of time.
"So, how can you dispel any illusion?" Konrad probed the captain on the way.
Vargas flashed him a golden amulet. "The archbishop gifted this to my predecessor," he explained. "A rune that disrupts light magic within range, using my mana."
"You have mana?!"
"All living thing has," he shrugged. "But only a few can bend it to their will. Artifacts do that for us, but this one costs more than our yearly budget."
If he weren't broke, he'd hoard them to become a pretend-mage and impress the king—
But with only three mages and a few bishops around, artifacts would be rare, too.
The captain kept droning until they arrived at Eytjangard. A monolithic tower overshadowed it, and Vargas shutting up was a bad sign. Konrad almost fainted.
It was a hundred feet tall, smooth as marble, and screamed 'magic' from a mile away.
From certain angles, the air vibrated, as if it were a mirage.
"Well, here we are," Vargas said, stepping back. Was he shaking? "The rest is up to you, boy."
"Don't be ridiculous, Captain, you're here to protect me."
"Not if he thinks you're a bother," he whispered. "They say he turned someone into a toad—"
Konrad doubted that it was a thing, but still jumped when a heavy oak door flew open without a sound. In the frame stood a hooded figure, smelling of vinegar and regrets.
The captain was about to piss himself, but—
"W-what do you want? I don't accept visitors from Aset," the figure stuttered, voice thin, and in general, he wasn't scary at all. Konrad struggled to suppress a laugh.
The mage's apprentice wasn't such an expert illusionist as they claimed.
What was with the vinegar anyway?
"I'm here for the crystal you stole," the boy stared him down, feeling confident. "And if you tell me where the real mage is, you might avoid the gallows."
"What?!" The captain's head snapped up. "I'm so sorry, My Lord, he—"
Konrad grabbed him and yanked out his magic amulet. It burned his fingers, and everything happened in an instant, like a blast wave washing over them.
The illusion shattered, and the once-imposing tower disappeared, replaced by decayed ruins.
In the Green Mage's place stood Zoltan Sudberg, his clothes in a tattered mess.
He let go of the amulet, dizzy from the effects, and the captain's jaw hit the ground.