The Fist-Wielding Genius Mage - Episode 22 (19/201)
Episode 22. The Knight and the Mage (4)
The core ingredient of the elixir, the ‘Breath of the Demon Clan,’ is a round object shrouded in a dark aura. Pouring holy water onto it transforms it into an elixir.
‘Drinking this will unconditionally increase my magical power.’
Elixirs randomly boost stats, but for me, the only stat left to rise was magical power—my other stats were already maxed out.
For a mage, physical strength is additive, while magical power is multiplicative.
Though removing the penalties of physical strength was important, nothing mattered more to me than raising my magical power stat.
‘Should I go claim the remaining one?’
I slipped the ‘Breath of the Demon Clan’ into my pocket. Even in the game, I’d always been thrilled whenever I obtained it. In ten years, I’d never gotten two at once. Today was a lucky day.
“Push harder! Don’t let it get near Zed!”
Even as I reveled in my acquisition, Torres and the knights were fighting with every ounce of their strength.
Sweat drenched their flushed faces, but their expressions brightened the moment they saw me.
A mix of pride and pity welled up in me—or maybe it was just my imagination.
I sprinted toward them at full speed.
Boom! Crackle—!
The knights’ jaws dropped. The basilisk, which had been thrashing wildly moments ago, now lay utterly motionless.
“Impossible…!”
It was a scene straight out of a lie.
How to describe it? It felt like a single bolt of lightning had struck, and then the basilisk’s eyes closed.
‘Th-that’s…!’
More shocking than the basilisk’s sudden death was Zed. He sat atop the monster’s head, wearing a bored expression.
He glanced down at the knights and scratched his ear lazily.
‘Th-thunder energy! Don’t tell me Zed the Arhan has awakened thunder energy…!’
Golden currents of electricity crackled around him, his bangs standing on end. Beneath his exposed forehead, the crimson eyes symbolic of an Arhan blazed vividly.
Even among Bahal’s knights, thunder energy was an exceedingly unfamiliar attribute.
They’d heard of it in records but never witnessed it firsthand, dismissing it as a legend spun by mages. Yet the energy coursing through Zed’s body was unmistakably thunder energy.
“Zed…? That energy… Is it truly thunder energy?”
Torres asked in awe. Everyone else was stunned, but Zed remained unperturbed.
“Doesn’t it look like thunder energy?”
“How is this possible…! You were said to have no mana…”
“Not anymore. I unlocked my mana a while back.”
“…What?”
That statement was even more shocking.
Just as blood flows from the heart through veins, mana travels through circuits via a ring.
The mana ring encircling the heart is innate, as natural as being born with ten fingers and toes.
Occasionally, circuits connect late—a phenomenon politely called “late blooming.” But even then, all circuits link by age six.
Zed was fifteen. Having no mana until now meant he lacked the mana ring itself. This was akin to someone born with nine fingers suddenly growing a tenth.
‘No, it’s more like he gained a second heart…’
How was this possible?
In a millennium of history, such a case had never existed—at least, not in any recorded instance.
Zed was an anomaly that shattered common sense.
“Why so surprised? Isn’t it natural for a mage to wield mana?”
“It is natural, but you…”
Torres trailed off.
Amid the chaos of this incomprehensible situation, the image of Zed training relentlessly, drenched in sweat, surfaced in his mind.
Had the heavens been moved by his resolve? For now, that was the only plausible explanation.
“Sir Torres! Are you alright?!”
At that moment, the main force rushed over in panic. Reinforcements had been dispatched upon hearing the battle’s clamor.
The knights, who’d charged with swords drawn, stared in bewilderment at the dead basilisk.
“This is an undiscovered monster… Ah! Sir Torres must have slain it. As expected of you!”
“…No. It wasn’t me. It was him.”
“…Huh?”
Torres’ gaze shifted to Zed.
The knights tilted their heads, eyeing the young mage who shrugged nonchalantly.
This kid took down a basilisk?
“Haha. That’s quite the joke.”
“It’s no joke. Zed saved my life and the search team’s.”
“That can’t be! We heard this mage doesn’t even possess mana…”
Torres shook his head. The search team members’ grave expressions said it all.
The reinforcements stood dumbfounded, unable to fathom what had transpired.
“Skin it and sell the hide. You’ll make enough for beef.”
“…?”
“And this part is mine.”
Zed pocketed the remaining ‘Breath of the Demon Clan.’ While documenting loot from undiscovered monsters was standard, no one could contest his claim.
“Torres, can I keep this?”
“Of course. You slew the monster, so the spoils are rightfully yours.”
Credit to comrades, blame to oneself.
Once again, Torres upheld the code of chivalry.
Rumors of the young Arhan spread rapidly across the southern front.
In a place usually abuzz with monster tales, mages becoming the talk of the town was unprecedented.
“He took down an undiscovered monster bare-handed?”
“Not just that—he awakened thunder energy! The legends were real!”
“Actual thunder energy? A mage with no mana suddenly wielding it? You sure they didn’t hallucinate?”
“The entire search team saw it. Sir Torres confirmed it. No mistake.”
“Whoa… They say thunder energy surpasses the four main elements. That mage isn’t half-baked—he’s a genius!”
“Exactly. An Arhan is an Arhan for a reason. Their rep isn’t unearned.”
Despite their deep-seated disdain for mages, praise flowed freely—Zed had saved their comrades.
To knights, comrades were as precious as their blades. In their code, sword, honor, and comrades formed a sacred trinity.
“That Arhan’s clearly different from other mages.”
“I doubted it at first, but Sir Torres was right. He trains during breaks, sweating buckets. The more you see him, the more you realize he’s the real deal.”
“He even gave up the monster’s hide?”
“It’s tough stuff—worth a pretty penny. They’re selling it to fund a celebration.”
“Ah… I wish I could talk to that Arhan. Ugh, should’ve joined the search team today.”
Zed’s reputation among the knights had flipped entirely.
A mage wielding thunder energy’s boundless potential had not only joined their southern front operations but also slain an undiscovered monster and saved their comrades and supplies.
It was more than enough to obliterate their prejudices.
“…Sir Zed, thank you for saving us earlier.”
“Sorry for the slap earlier—had to snap you out of it.”
“Of course. A knight losing his nerve on the battlefield… I’ll reflect deeply on this.”
The party’s atmosphere was warm and cheerful.
There is nothing that stirs camaraderie like overcoming life-and-death situations together.
I never imagined the day would come when I’d consider a mage a comrade, but since it was Zed, I didn’t entirely dislike the idea.
Even if he’s a mage, the fact remains that I owe him my life.
“It seems the patriarch was quite surprised too. I’ll need to visit the family tomorrow.”
“Good. We’re heading to Frilda.”
“When I explained your situation, they all offered to help. They’re off-duty starting tomorrow, so they’ll assist you. I’ll join you in Frilda once my work is done.”
“Thank you for your consideration.”
“I did promise, after all.”
Torres smiled contentedly.
Though unintended, Zed had earned the knights’ recognition through his own efforts. That fact filled me with overwhelming joy and pride.
Zed truly is a remarkable mage. I’m glad we became friends.
Arahan and Bahal were like oil and water. I knew this, yet I still wanted to grow closer to Zed. The more I observed him, the more I saw a great mentor worthy of respect and a steadfast friend.
The next day, Zed and the knights gathered before the teleportation gate.
“Is everyone present?”
“Yes! All accounted for!”
Twenty knights from the search operation had volunteered to aid me. As a mage, I never dreamed of receiving knights’ assistance, yet circumstances had aligned perfectly.
“The teleportation gate is prepared. You may board now.”
The sudden formality from previously casual knights felt jarring, but as Arahan, I couldn’t permit informal address.
-Whirrrrr!
Light burst from the gate’s base as I stepped onto it. My body lifted as if floating in zero gravity, drifting through weightless space.
When I opened my eyes again, the salty tang of the sea and the vibrant sights of a bustling city greeted me.
“Whoa! The teleportation gate’s insane! We arrived in seconds!”
Riu’s voice brimmed with exhilaration. His excitement seemed amplified—this city was akin to a hometown for him.
“You could call this my stronghold! My old merchant guild operated here!”
“Riu, describe your sister’s name and features. I’ll locate her immediately.”
“Her name’s Lisa. Blonde hair, thirteen years old.”
“That’s it?”
“Hmm… She’s cute? About this tall?”
The details were hopelessly vague. Blonde hair was common in the empire, and “cute” was purely subjective. The only concrete clues—name and age—were useless if she’d been enslaved. Slaves retained neither.
“Where’s the merchant guild you worked at? You mentioned your sister was there.”
“A short walk from here. The Hamil Guild—still one of the city’s largest.”
“We’ll start there. But you can’t accompany me.”
The guild master had sent Riu to the labor camps. If spotted, our identities would be exposed—a fatal risk with bounties on our heads.
“Right. I’ll guide you, then hide.”
“Good.”
Before departing, I inserted the tinted lenses Torres had gifted me—top-grade enchantments that wouldn’t melt. His thoughtful gesture had erased my eyes’ crimson hue, leaving only a cool blue tint.
“Lord Zed, what are your orders?”
“Avoid using my name here.”
“Ah! Understood. We’ll exercise caution.”
“Investigate the city’s minor and mid-tier families. As Bahal members, this should be within your capabilities.”
“Understood. Lord Torres reserved lodging yesterday. Once finished, I’ll escort you there.”
“Good.”
He’d even arranged accommodations. My well-connected friend smoothed every obstacle.
Yet even Torres couldn’t spare the knights indefinitely. They were frontline defenders assisting me during downtime. Finding Riu’s sister took priority over procuring magical tools.
“An excellent choice. Six gold coins, please.”
I purchased noble-style attire at a random boutique—essential for blending into the city’s elite.
After a long walk toward the center, Riu pointed.
“Zed, that building.”
“Wait here.”
“Blonde, thirteen, named Lisa. Don’t forget.”
Useless details.
Riu’s anxiety had spiked since morning. He gnawed his nails and jittered—uncharacteristic tells of deep unease.
“Relax. I’ll handle this.”
“O-okay. Be safe, Zed.”
I straightened his collar and patted his shoulder before approaching the structure. A gatekeeper bowed deeply.
“Ah! Welcome, esteemed guest!”
My attire had paid off—until a thuggish man sidled over, oozing false warmth.
“Thank you for gracing us. Seeking anything specific?”
“Is this the Hamil Guild?”
“…Yes?”
Nobles used commanding tones, but the man blinked stupidly, unoffended yet confused.
“I heard this was the Hamil Guild. Has it rebranded?”
“Aha! A misunderstanding, young master. This is a slave market.”
“A slave market? Yet you asked what I wanted?”
The man’s demeanor shifted instantly. Guards tensed as the air chilled.
What did I say wrong?
The man straightened, shedding his obsequious act.
“You’re no noble.”
“…What?”
“Playing games, brat? Slaves are property. Any noble knows that.”
Slaves as property—
Of course. In this world, such cruelty was normal. I knew this, yet the concept still revolted me.
“A commoner impersonating nobility here? You’re scheming something.”
At his signal, armed thugs materialized, encircling me.
