Chapter 58: The Argument

“Miss Christine, forgive my bluntness, but… this airship likely won’t achieve your dreams… Stacking numerous magic arrays causes unstable Arcane Power. Over long operation, conflicts are unavoidable… Even an outsider like me knows this.” Konstantin’s mouth twitched slightly as he faced those calmly startled features, straining to keep any hint of smugness or other negativity from his tone. “Didn’t you consult Master Vernal on this?”

“Archmage Vernal shares your view… But I still wish to try. The worst result is merely another Hindenburg incident.”

Christine’s expression remained unshaken. The girl’s reply was quiet, almost fragile in its simplicity, carrying the calm tone of stating a plain fact. Not mentioning a potential catastrophe.

To common folk on the Western Continent, that centuries-old spell disaster in the town called Hindenburg likely meant nothing. Just another large mage experiment gone wrong, resulting in an explosion… Something they’d probably grown numb to. In the memories of ordinary people, mage experiments always ended in explosions.

None comprehended the lasting shadow that tragedy, claiming over a dozen mage lives, cast upon the spellcasting world. Countless dreams were scorched by that fireball ripping apart three hundred feet in the sky. And for centuries after, flight remained solely the privilege of spellcasters. Those untrained in mental power couldn’t wield flight scrolls even if they owned them, unless a Mage took pity, casting the Flight Spell upon them – a truth deeply ingrained in everyone’s mind.

A difficult challenge, yet Christine believed the wisdom of Mages was meant for precisely such endeavors. So-called unsolvable mysteries were where they should pour their life’s work.

Konstantin shook his head slightly, glimpsing that resolute determination in the girl’s eyes. He knew some people wouldn’t give up until they hit a wall. Such relentless drive, admirable persistence in certain ways, often led to success. That very spirit likely propelled this girl to become a Formal Mage at her young age.

“Such a masterpiece… it would be a true pity to see it destroyed in an explosion…” Konstantin murmured softly with a sigh.

“Its purpose lies in this creation. Even its destruction holds no regret…” Christine’s answer remained gentle.

Oblivious to his gaze as she focused on her incomplete project, she missed the boy eyeing the curve her soft velvet Sorceress robe revealed. He was measuring which letter that lush curve might fall under.

“Your Grace Mage Christine, we await your decision on the golem modification plan! Also, ‘Sir’ Konstantin, we ‘request’ that you ‘clarify’ these ‘supposedly brilliant ideas’ of yours!”

Of course, not everyone missed it. The brown-haired youth spoke coldly from the sideline, his glare fierce enough to rival a third-tier spell. Clearly, every subtlety of Konstantin’s gaze was recorded under his scrutiny, mixed with youthful imagination, fueling the hot-tempered youth’s jealousy to boiling point.

Luckily, a cautious companion offered timely advice. Thus, though the boy hissed the last words like a threat, he maintained restraint, stopping his words from igniting into a Fireball Spell incantation.

Konstantin paused, slightly puzzled. His attached armor sketch clearly detailed all requirements. Plus, the design was incredibly simple. No explanation should be needed.

Had he overestimated the intelligence of these high-level Mage Apprentices?

…

“…Simply unlink the components and you can completely retract the armor section. This reduces weight and improves agility. Moreover, all sections utilize identically-sized plates, making replacement and crafting relatively straightforward.” The pros and cons of the outer armor were truly basic, barely needing explanation. Konstantin wrapped it up in brief sentences, ready to depart.

Being close to the beautiful Sorceress was pleasant, yet surrounded by hostile eyes, pursuing favor or mere appreciation felt unwise.

The young Oriel heir sat quietly, head still bowed, lacking any urge to impress his crush. Yet, the shadow of his deep hood didn’t hide the trace of smug satisfaction from Konstantin’s sight. Enough proof that during Konstantin’s brief chat with Christine, this fellow had been busy spreading slanderous gossip. Likely more than just gossip.

Imperceptible sparks of tension filled the air. All other males seemed united against Konstantin. Conversely, three adolescent girls eyed him with odd curiosity. The oldest even sent him an unnervingly flirtatious glance at their eye-contact moment. Sadly, the accompanying grey-freckled face ignited only nausea within Konstantin.

“Then Sir Constantine, what kind of spells should attach to such armor? By your suggestion, each plate needs unique defensive enchantments. Doesn’t that seem a huge waste?” Before Konstantin could voice his farewell, a slender, squinting youth spoke up. His glow-adorned robe hinted he was likely the richest among them.

His question bordered on tedious, though delivered with such earnest inquiry that refusal seemed rude.

“The spells… that’s your puzzle. I only provide ideas. Technical issues…” Konstantin frowned. The question was too broad; any answer risked traps. Though armed with the knowledge of a Lich, spouting advanced jargon would only draw unwanted scrutiny. No need to boast before these youths. “For a golem’s frame, scale mail needs no magic. Sufficient thickness is the shield. Even a charging Knight’s lance would halt or deflect against such half-inch arced plates. Common soldier swords are meaningless… Enhanced defensive power isn’t solely reliant on magic.”

“Such a responsible answer…” The brown-haired apprentice seized the moment for a derisive snort!

“Enough, Scar! I understand your mood, yet you must see the whole picture! Sir Constantine hasn’t studied—” The speckled-faced Mage Apprentice finally spoke up, though perhaps her appearance lessened her impact. Another instantly twisted her small defense: “Exactly, Scar! As a Noble, Sir Constantine hasn’t spent the years you or I have immersed in Arcane Arts! You can’t expect his grasp of arcane fundamentals to match ours! Complexities like Acid Storm’s impact or Disintegration’s effect… those are our problems to solve…”

“Right! Your standards are too high! For a Mage… oh, excuse me, for a Spellcaster, imagination matters too! Even if it doesn’t spark miracles, all things start as idle dreams…” Someone else chimed insincerely.

“If everything solely relies on magic… doesn’t that mean lacking intelligence?” Konstantin flicked a finger on his brow, a sarcastic curl playing on his lips. Their choreography was downright pitiful. Just a clumsy trick to smear his reputation.

He didn’t raise his voice, merely quoting a great Archmage’s words. Sudden silence fell over the squabbling youngsters. Magic is everything. Every problem finds solution in magic… A deep-seated obsession within these fledgling Spellcasters. Yet the world held thinkers who understood better.

“Enough. Your focus strayed far from the core discussion.” By now, even Christine grasped the hostility behind their words. Her clear voice cut off the trivial dispute. As a Formal Mage, she held absolute authority over these apprentices. While her youth sometimes let them relax, not always.

Most realized mocking limits, biting their tongues. Offending him invited risks beyond their capacity.

Clearly, fear of established rules didn’t restrain all.

“Astonishing talent, Sir Constantine! Achieving advance qualifications within mere months!” Spoke the orchestrated voice, unseen till now, delighted catching a wording slip. Or was this the endgame conversation they sought? “Since you deem magic power ‘not that crucial,’ surely you possess concepts enabling humans to fly into the sky without Arcane Power? Would you care to elaborate? It’s precisely the vital issue we ponder now. Naturally, you’d never suggest riding magical beasts… right? Sir Originality?”

A deliberate misrepresentation. Konstantin never denied magic entirely, but admitting defeat here was obvious.

Male apprentices’ eyes brimmed with secret victory; females exchanged disappointed glances. Especially involving the forbidden domain of flight. Without supreme arcane arts? Leaving earth meant only methods like flying beast mounts.

“If insisted… well yes. May I gather certain materials?” The source of trouble suddenly spoke, stunning the room.

Rising, he scanned the huge laboratory. Perhaps research Mages resembled great thinkers – minds forever drifting through Planes – thus all shared poor habits. Though the owner was a girl, the vast space boasted chaotic disorder. Neatest divisions were “this pile” versus “that pile.”

The youth walked directly to one such pile, retrieving a scrap of beast hide. Its purpose remained mysterious.

Wondrous beasts upon the Western Continent were countless, their pelts very common material in Mage labs. Scrolls, equipment, artifacts… higher-grade leather enhanced numerous spells – though Konstantin sought utterly other properties.

Giving the pelt two vigorous shakes midair, he nodded. Satisfied by its lightness, he pulled out a long steel chord hung near some device. With everyone watching in mockery, he deftly twisted the steel chord into a peculiar frame. Then, using a golden dagger, he cut the hide. Droplets of amber liquid served as adhesive, attaching it to the frame, forming a weird cylindrical object resembling an upturned bucket.

“What’s that contraption? What’s he doing?” “Who knows? Delirium, perhaps? … Is that Sovereign Glue?! Wasted…” Whispers flowed among the youngsters, perfectly audible. Sparing disdainful looks cost nothing.

Unbothered, Konstantin worked efficiently and steadily. Molding the shape slightly, he rolled leftover hide scraps into a ball, stuffing them inside a steel ring fixed at the structure’s base. Sighing with satisfaction, he snatched pungent yellow powder from a nearby tray, sprinkling it liberally upon the hide scraps.

Finally, bewildered stares fixed upon him. The unassuming boy looked up, meeting the blue-robed maiden’s eyes. Offering a smile, he said, “Lady Christine, care to assist with… ‘lighting’?”

Infused with a provocative double entendre understood solely by lower-class citizens, commoner-born assistants flushed with fury. Their outrage froze mid-way. The Sulphur flame performed perfectly. Slowly, the ‘bucket’ inflated. Hot air invoked Nature’s most fundamental law. Next moment, utterly shocking every witness, the bizarre object wobbled… then lifted off the ground!

…

“Children’s toys… unfit for someone your age.”

Stepping back, evading a burnt-out projectile before his face, Konstantin wrinkled his nose against the pungent sulphur fumes. Turning away, he wearily sighed.

Evidently, uttering logic achieved naught. Across the chamber, the black-robed Vernal cradled yet another vast leather bucket just lifting upward… A dozen similar airborne objects floated nearby. Some already brushed the lab’s high ceiling, combusting mid-air into blazing blurs of light.

“This is my domain! One complaint more… Get out!” The elder snapped impatiently moments later. Not a reasoning reply.

Konstantin sighed once more. Captivated by grasping the simple science behind the flying vessel, the Archmage discarded his critical tasks, endlessly tinkering with his ‘research’… Witnessing the legendarily ill-tempered ‘mad dog’ radiating such boyish enthusiasm might leave anyone within the Mage Tower speechless. Too bad Konstantin lacked skill in image-preserving spells. An entertaining rumor thus lost forever.

Shaking off the distraction, he returned to his table. Crafting the Soul Amulet’s pendant and chain demanded finishing.

Its appearance had transformed entirely. The glowing Bequli Gem nestled within elegant silver leaves – slender outlines curling forward, fine veins etched meticulously upon the setting. Silver met the faintly pulsing enchanted patterns inscribed upon the gem, radiating an aura of unique mystery.

Pleased, a satisfied smile touched his lips. Clearly, his skills remained sharp for future ventures…

“Sir Constantine?”

The sudden feminine whisper right behind startled him mid-smile. His chisel hand jerked violently. Across the beautiful etching streaked an ugly, deep scar!

“Cursed!” Konstantin hissed bitterly through gritted teeth.

What horror could eclipse being encircled by maniacs? Being targeted by a woman drowning in infatuation. Yet undoubtedly worse remained: knowing that affection belonged aimed elsewhere.