NOVPUBA battalion is an independent military unit, capable of operating autonomously. Ghislain’s proposal was straightforward: to form a dedicated army of mages.
Claude stared at him blankly before responding.
“A research institute, a mage battalion... How exactly are we supposed to pull that off? Officially, our territory has only one mage.”
The status of the mages in Fenris territory was complicated.
On paper, they were cooperative mages dispatched by the Crimson Flame Tower. Unofficially, they were Ghislain’s contracted slaves. This dual status meant they couldn’t openly act under Fenris’s banner.
If word got out that mages affiliated with the Tower were actively participating in territorial conflicts, it would invite serious repercussions. While their current situation was already borderline, as long as it wasn’t overt, the pretense could be maintained.
Ghislain nodded and continued.
“Officially, Vanessa is our only mage. The others can... well, continue as they are—working on construction projects and participating in battles.”
“...”
“And lately, haven’t more mages been visiting our territory? They’re all sniffing around for opportunities,” Ghislain added with a grin.
“That’s true,” Claude admitted. “Rumors about the 6th-circle mage in our territory have been spreading ever since the war with Desmond.”
After the battle, whispers about a 6th-circle mage in Fenris began circulating, fueled by reports of Willow’s magic being nullified during the fight. Considering the scale of the engagement, it was impossible to suppress such rumors entirely.
“6th-circle mages aren’t exactly common. Even if Vanessa’s incomplete, that doesn’t matter to most people,” Claude added.
A mage of the 6th circle was a potential Tower Master candidate, making nobles eager to learn their identity. Similarly, unaffiliated mages had started arriving in Fenris, seeking opportunities for advancement. While some claimed to be wandering in search of experience, most were stagnant individuals with limited talent or opportunities.
Their goal? Even the slightest guidance from a 6th-circle mage was worth chasing.
Ghislain nodded again.
“Exactly. Let’s take them in. The more mages we gather, the stronger our magical capabilities will become.”
The Crimson Flame Tower’s support had its limits. They wouldn’t send more reinforcements, especially now.
However, fighting dukes and other major lords required a significant increase in magical power. These enemies possessed far superior mages than Desmond had, including the likes of Illois, a 7th-circle mage, and the Crimson Tower Master, also a 7th-circle mage.
Raising Vanessa’s level and increasing their mage numbers were critical.
Claude understood the logic but remained skeptical.
“Hmm... But do you think they’ll willingly join our territory? Sure, the untalented ones might, but free-spirited mages who hate being tied down? They’ll refuse. You know how prideful and temperamental mages are.”
“Do you think they can resist the offer of learning from a 6th-circle mage? Add generous compensation to the deal.”
“That might work,” Claude conceded. “Mages are always desperate to improve their rank. As long as we hide that Vanessa is an incomplete mage, it could work.”
“Exactly. Promise that all mages officially affiliated with the territory will have access to mana convergence formations as well.”
Claude groaned.
“Can you stop spending so much? We’re already running low on runestones because of you!”
“Spend when it matters. Start preparing to spread the word about this,” Ghislain ordered.
“Ugh... And what about the mages from the Crimson Tower?”
“Let’s all keep living together happily,” Ghislain replied with a grin.
“...Sure,” Claude muttered in defeat. Convincing Ghislain otherwise was a lost cause. Whether their arrangement with the Tower crumbled or not was beyond Claude’s concern at this point.
Meanwhile, dwarves and mages, already drowning in work, were dragged back for additional construction.
Among them, Alpoi, now fully bitter and jaded after his 60-year sentence, cursed endlessly.
“Damn it! Why does the work never end in this godforsaken territory? How dare they treat me like this—the man who defied the gods!”
Galbarik, unbothered, commented casually.
“Well, I hear this new project is for the mages. Apparently, they’re pouring an obscene amount of money into it.”
“Hah! Naturally, they should do that if they want someone of my caliber around. This is them earning the right to house me here.”
Alpoi convinced himself that his presence in Fenris was voluntary—a favor to the territory. Certainly not because he was trapped here as a slave.
The new construction project was indeed extraordinary. It included private lodgings for countless mages, specialized training grounds, an enormous magical library, and an array of luxurious facilities.
Vanessa oversaw the magical enhancements, while the dwarves put their utmost effort into the construction. Ghislain had repeatedly emphasized the building’s importance.
Watching the structure rise floor by floor, Alpoi muttered,
“Impressive... but doesn’t it look like a Tower? Are we sure this is just a residence?”
It didn’t just resemble a Tower—it was undeniably a Tower.
Even before the building was completed, Ghislain gathered everyone and announced,
“I’m sure you’ve all been curious about this building. It’s too grand to simply be a residence for mages. This will be the Fenris Magical Research Institute. Its director will be... Vanessa.”
Vanessa’s eyes widened in shock.
“Me?”
“Of course. You’re the highest-ranking 6th-circle mage in the territory. Who else would it be?”
Though his statement was factual, Vanessa, easily flustered, blushed deeply.
“Wait! Why not me?!” Alpoi interrupted, his tone indignant.
Ghislain shook his head.
“You’re the branch head of the Crimson Flame Tower in this region. This is the Fenris Magical Research Institute.”
“Hmm...” Alpoi hesitated. Though something felt off about his increasingly entangled affiliations, he had no choice but to back down.
Ghislain continued,
“We’ll begin actively recruiting mages. Start with those already in the territory. The plan is for all of them to reside and work here.”
Everyone nodded, though their expressions ranged from apprehensive to resigned. The task ahead was monumental, but Ghislain’s determination left no room for objections.
“Wait! This isn’t going to be just our residence, is it?”
Alpoi interjected again, his voice rising in protest.
Ghislain nodded matter-of-factly.
“It’ll be used as a residence, but all mages will live there together, conducting research, training, and contributing to the territory. During battles, they’ll serve as part of the mage battalion.”
The mention of a “mage battalion” caused a stir. This wasn’t just about assembling a group of mages—it was an acknowledgment of their magical power as a strategic force.
Alpoi trembled with indignation.
“Wait... Does that mean we’re included in this too?”
“Of course.”
“This... this is a Tower! You’re basically turning this into a Tower!”
Without batting an eye, Ghislain replied,
“No, it’s the Fenris Magical Research Institute.”
“That’s what a Tower is! You can’t just go around calling it something else!”
“It’s a research institute,” Ghislain repeated firmly. “And the battalion’s activities will be strictly defensive. No need to worry.”
The clarification offered a sliver of solace. If framed as defensive measures for protecting the territory, it might avoid serious repercussions.
But Alpoi, having endured countless Fenris escapades, wasn’t so easily placated.
“...You’re not going to say, ‘The best defense is a good offense,’ are you?”
Ghislain didn’t respond, instead turning to Claude.
“When’s the next slave auction?”
The room fell into an awkward silence.
Finally, Ghislain resumed,
“Mages who officially join the territory will train under Vanessa. It’s important to strengthen their abilities quickly, and the territory will provide whatever resources they need.”
Vanessa blinked in shock.
“Me? Teach them?”
“Of course. You’re the highest-ranking mage in the territory. It’s only natural.”
“I-I don’t think I’m qualified for such a big responsibility...”
“You’ll do fine,” Ghislain reassured her. “You’re the most knowledgeable mage here. Besides, no one explains magic as clearly as you do.”
Everyone nodded in agreement. Anyone who had ever asked Vanessa a question knew to expect an hour-long lecture, complete with intricate details. Her passion for dissecting and explaining magical theories was unparalleled.
If the mages focused on training and research under her guidance, their skills would undoubtedly improve quickly.
With the decision made, there was no turning back. Despite Vanessa’s flustered protests, Ghislain’s determination was unshakable.
Thus, the Fenris Magical Research Institute was officially established, with Vanessa as its head.
“And the mage battalion,” Ghislain added, “will be under Vanessa’s command. Lowell will serve as her advisor.”
Lowell, caught off guard, protested,
“Me? I already have too much on my plate!”
“It’s just a supporting role during battles. Don’t stress about it,” Ghislain said dismissively.
While Vanessa was to lead the battalion, her lack of military expertise necessitated guidance from someone with a background in strategy and tactics.
Ghislain also planned to restructure the military hierarchy soon. Managing everything alone was no longer feasible with the territory’s rapid expansion.
After the research institute’s establishment, meetings with visiting mages began. Ghislain called Claude for instructions.
“Listen carefully. Don’t let a single mage leave the territory.”
“What? Are you telling me to detain them?”
“No, no. Persuade them to join the territory. Think you can manage that?”
“...Why me? Can’t you handle it yourself? I’m already drowning in work.”
“You’re the best person for this. I trust you.”
“...Hmph.”
Reluctantly, Claude accepted the task. The first mage he met was a middle-aged man, a 3rd-circle wanderer. Crossing his legs arrogantly, Claude leaned back and asked,
“So, you want to meet our 6th-circle mage, is that right?”
“Yes, even a small lesson from such a master would be a great honor,” the mage replied, his eyes brimming with enthusiasm.
Though his posture exuded confidence, he was careful not to overstep. As a mere 3rd-circle mage, he knew better than to disrespect a steward of a powerful territory.
Claude smirked subtly and said in a smooth tone,
“Well, you see, not just anyone gets to meet them. But here’s an idea: why not become an official mage of Fenris? You’d receive training from our 6th-circle mage and enjoy full support from the territory.”
“An official mage...?”
“Yes. It’s nothing too binding. You’ve heard about our wealth, haven’t you? We’ve even constructed a brand-new... research institute,” Claude said, barely stopping himself from calling it a Tower. “Each mage will also be provided with their own mana convergence formation.”
The mage gasped. Such facilities were unheard of for wandering mages like him. The offer was beyond tempting, especially since he was growing weary of traveling alone.
Still, like any good mage, he remained suspicious.
“Why would you go to such lengths for someone like me?”
“Well, we’re a bit short on mages. Those who join us early receive generous benefits. But hesitate too long, and the positions might fill up. Opportunities like this don’t come around often.”
Claude’s words, though slightly salesman-like, carried an undeniable logic. The mage, visibly torn, hesitated. Sensing the need to push further, Claude continued,
“You’ll receive room and board, full access to training facilities, and won’t have to worry about anything but honing your skills.”
“That’s... really all I’d have to do?”
It sounded like a dream come true. Training under a 6th-circle mage was already rare, but access to a mana convergence formation on top of that? It was an unparalleled opportunity.
Claude, wearing a soft smile, nodded.
“Of course. Occasionally, you might assist with small tasks when the territory is busy. But we’re not the sort to overburden our mages. The current workload is only temporary, a result of stabilizing the territory.”
The mage, feeling reassured, nodded. Helping the territory in exchange for such benefits seemed reasonable.
Claude slyly slid a document across the table.
“A 30-year contract. Not too long, right?”
Compared to Claude’s own 278-year contract, it was laughably short.
