The Dark Fantasy Doctor Was Mistaken for a Saint - Chapter 43

WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Haruto

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◈ The Dark Fantasy Doctor Was Mistaken for a Saint ◈

Chapter 43: Mistaken for Daddy Long-Legs (2)

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Every autumn.

When the first frost covered the earth, the Empire’s spellcasters gathered in one place.

The Grand Arcane Symposium.

Also known as the Arcane Olympiad.

For convenience, it was called the Autumn Symposium.

For spellcasters, this symposium was more than a place to share knowledge.

It was where geniuses from across the continent proved their achievements and competed for supremacy in the magical world.

It was also a place where they could indirectly display the national strength of the countries they represented.

In Julian’s words, it was the spellcasters’ Olympics.

Countless spellcasters from around the world flocked to the Empire’s capital for this symposium.

There was a simple reason why the Empire’s Autumn Symposium, rather than any other nation’s, had become the spellcasters’ Olympics.

“Urgh. Is today’s schedule finally over...?”

The father of magic lived in the imperial capital.

And this symposium was the only event he attended publicly.

Because of his presence alone, no magical symposium had ever surpassed the Olympiad’s authority in all of human history.

“Whew. I chose myself a fine disciple in my old age.”

After finishing the first day of this year’s Autumn Symposium, the Great Sage relaxed in a townhouse owned by the Merkuer Trading Company.

“Then please enjoy your rest, Great Sage.”

After the attendant withdrew, the Great Sage soaked his feet in a basin filled with floating herbs and recalled the day’s events.

It had been a rather good day.

He had seen his disciples’ faces for the first time in a while.

“Adren, Master of the January Magic Tower, greets the Grand Master.”

“Have you been well, Master?”

They had shared recent news.

“Oh, right. You should all know this. I recently took on a youngest disciple.”

“What? When?”

“Come to think of it... it’s been about three years.”

And he had been pleased to see his disciples, the Magic Tower Masters, looking well.

“Why are you only telling us now?!”

“Yahoo! I’m not the youngest anymore!”

“Is the kid cute?”

“When are you going to introduce them to us?”

It had been a good day in many ways.

The presentations by novice spellcasters had been boring, but that could not be helped.

There had not been any particularly worthwhile presentations at the symposium, but watching promising young spellcasters burn with passion for the future had not been bad.

‘But still, the most satisfying part of today’s schedule was... the evening.’

The Great Sage gently closed his eyes as the warm scent of herbs rose from his feet.

A soft, elegant melody flowed from the brass horn of the phonograph on the table opposite him.

Letting out a lazy breath, the Great Sage looked around the room.

The floor was covered in the finest carpet, soft enough for his feet to sink to the ankles.

The fireplace burned the highest-grade mana fuel, without a trace of smoke or acrid smell.

Within reach sat a crystal decanter containing brandy from the year 900.

It was the height of luxury for this age, a level of extravagance even nobles rarely enjoyed.

‘That brat must be making money hand over fist.’

The Great Sage poured amber brandy into a crystal glass and gave a soft laugh.

His beloved youngest disciple’s face came to mind.

“Where did he learn it? He knows exactly how to treat his master.”

He took a sip of brandy. The rich scent of oak lingering on his tongue was exquisite.

At the same time, Louis thought of the trading company providing him with this lavish hospitality.

‘The world truly is unfair. He was given that talent, that face, and even such a head for business.’

Recently, the Merkuer Trading Company had been the center of a storm in the Empire’s commercial world.

According to the Great Sage’s investigation, the company had been driven to the brink of bankruptcy by repeated sabotage and excessive honesty.

Then, five years ago, it suddenly released three medicines and rose as an emerging power.

And now, the company had even introduced vaccines.

‘The patents were made freely available, yet this company has ended up monopolizing vaccines.’

There were no patents on the Schnabel Formula or the vaccine manufacturing method.

Naturally, other trading companies had also rushed into vaccine production.

But the result was Merkuer’s monopoly on vaccines.

‘Perhaps it was inevitable.’

The reason was simple.

The Merkuer Trading Company had finished preparing long before the vaccines were revealed.

Production facilities. Distribution networks. Skilled workers.

While other companies frantically deciphered the formula, Merkuer had already begun mass-producing vaccines.

On top of that, there was the reassurance that came with the original developer.

Vaccines were administered directly into the body.

No matter how cheap they were, few people wanted to use an unproven medicine.

Merkuer, however, was different.

A supernova that had appeared five years ago and released miraculous medicines one after another.

The company had built enough trust that a rumor had recently spread through the capital: patients who waited before using a new Merkuer medicine were fools.

As a result, even after vaccines were made public, people sought out only Merkuer’s vaccines.

‘They’ll become a Grade 1 trading company soon.’

Merkuer was the overwhelming leader among Grade 2 trading companies, with no true competitor.

Considering its connections and capital spread through the imperial family and noble society, it was obvious that it would be promoted to a Grade 1 trading company, the pinnacle of the commercial world, within one or two years at most.

And the Great Sage’s youngest disciple had become a major shareholder with fifteen percent of that company’s shares, as well as a co-manager.

“Good grief. My tastes have become so refined that I wonder whether I’ll be able to drink plain water when I return to my Magic Tower.”

The Great Sage groaned, yet the pleased smile on his lips did not fade.

Warm herbal water, the finest brandy, the scent of cigars lingering around his nose, and a nocturne caressing his ears.

He had lived for many years and enjoyed every sort of wealth and glory.

Yet this sweet luxury, offered so sincerely by his adorable disciple, could not help feeling special.

‘He said he would provide scholarship funds every year from now on, too.’

This year, Julian had sent Louis one hundred million marcs.

But the Great Sage remembered the promise Julian had made before.

“After listening to you, Master, I recently established a scholarship foundation. Right now, though, there’s a lot we need to reinvest because of the vaccine business, so this is all I can support for the time being. Still, the business should stabilize in three years. After that...”

He had heard that the foundation was willing to invest five hundred million marcs every year.

When he heard that figure, the Great Sage could not help laughing.

“Julian. Do you know how much money that is? What if you can’t use it when you truly need it?”

“Five silver coins per person.”

“?”

“That is the price of a vaccine. If vaccines like these are made mandatory for people all over the world, how many marcs will I make every year whenever I develop one?”

After hearing those words, the Great Sage had decided to stop worrying about his youngest disciple’s finances.

Whose finances had he even been worrying about?

Before long, his disciple would clearly become wealthy enough to stand shoulder to shoulder with a ducal house.

No exaggeration.

If Julian proposed a political marriage to a daughter of a slightly cash-strapped ducal house, would the duke not agree without a second thought?

‘I heard even his father doesn’t know how much Julian earns now.’

The only medicine in which the head of House Nihirit held shares was quinine.

The shares in all subsequent medicines belonged solely to Julian.

As a result, the head of the house only knew that Julian’s income was vaguely substantial. He could not even begin to guess at the actual amount.

‘Tsk. Quinine isn’t the real thing. Insulin and vaccines are.’

In any case.

The enormous donations supported by this huge trading company and the hospitality it provided for this symposium had left the other mages grinning from ear to ear as well.

Even those arrogant mages praised the Merkuer Trading Company as “a company that understands honor.”

‘He has already wrapped this side around his finger.’

The Great Sage clicked his tongue as he thought of Julian, who had secretly put a leash around the mages.

Then it happened.

‘Hm?’

The Great Sage’s brow twitched as he luxuriated with his eyes lazily closed.

The phonograph’s nocturne, which had been playing softly by his ear, suddenly seemed to grow distant.

Instead, a sharp pulse of mana flowed into him from deep inside his mind.

Skree.

A very small, sharp animal cry.

In a mansion on Sanctum Hill, dozens of kilometers away.

The vision of the Siberian weasel he had left on the roof of House Nihirit’s estate overlaid itself vividly over the Great Sage’s mind.

‘What is this?’

Fitz.

His grimoire and familiar.

He had originally intended to make the familiar a rat, but stray cats kept eating it, so he had to change it into a Siberian weasel.

The Great Sage set his brandy glass down on the table.

Then, with his eyes closed, he fully received the visual information Fitz sent him.

A dark room.

Freya, a young girl lying in bed and hovering at death’s door.

And beside her stood his youngest disciple, Julian, gripping a syringe as sweat dripped from him.

[“This might sting a little, Freya.”]

After administering the medicine, Julian continued caring for his younger sister.

But the merciless world kept trying to take her life.

So Julian sent the priestess from the room and took a gamble.

He used black magic on his younger sister.

And an unbelievable sight unfolded.

“Ah...”

The demon disease had been cured.

By black magic, no less.

“Heh heh heh...”

Laughter escaped the Great Sage’s lips.

It held the delight of finding what he had long sought.

It held incredulous laughter at his youngest disciple’s overwhelming talent.

It was laughter in which countless emotions were intricately tangled.

“Good heavens... To think black magic held the answer.”

For the last several hundred years, the Great Sage had witnessed countless miracles created by magic.

It moved carriages without horses, created light without flame, overcame the seasons, and controlled indoor temperatures.

But no matter how much the age advanced and magic developed, magic had never been able to touch one domain.

Healing and life.

Throughout history, those had always been domains only the divine could handle.

But at this very moment.

A boy was rewriting that history.

‘Was it wrong to treat black magic as taboo...?’

Black magic directly touched life.

Even small ignorance and mistakes could bring tragedy, while the slightest corruption could cause a disaster remembered by history.

That was why the world, including the Great Sage, had come to fear and oppress black magic so intensely.

“Excellent.”

Julian had broken through that prejudice and begun writing new history.

“Hahahahaha! Excellent! Truly excellent!”

The Great Sage’s heart, dried up after nearly a thousand years of life, began racing wildly.

The dream he had half given up on.

His disciple had achieved the miracle of healing through magic.

And by curing demon disease, which even that vaunted divine power had failed to cure!

It was an achievement none of his other disciples had accomplished!

“You are moving ahead!”

Until now, his disciples had been too busy following the path the Great Sage had walked.

Of course, they had each achieved feats surpassing his in their own fields, but they had never escaped his framework.

Julian, however, had shattered that framework before his eyes and soared into the sky.

The Great Sage drained the rest of his brandy in one gulp.

The taste of strong liquor sliding down his throat was bland.

The new history of magic his disciple had just written was far stronger and more thrilling.

He laughed for a long while, immersed in joy and delight.

Since his disciple had accomplished such a historic feat, it was only natural for his master to grant him a fittingly grand congratulatory gift.

But while considering what would please his beloved disciple, a practical problem suddenly crossed his mind.

The Great Sage’s expression stiffened slightly.

“Hmm.”

He set the empty glass down on the table.

Then he rested his chin on his hand.

‘Fifteen.’

Julian von Nihirit.

He was fifteen years old this year.

An age when a commoner would be helping with farm work.

But in noble society, fifteen was the age when one began choosing an engagement partner and looking for a marriage match for the family’s future.

It was not difficult to understand.

This was a world where titles were influenced by magical talent.

Since mage talent was genuinely affected by bloodlines, it was not strange for nobles to seek marriage matches from such a young age.

Still, when he considered that Julian was old enough for it...

‘Tsk. This is the age when he should be charging ahead.’

The Great Sage unconsciously frowned.

House Nihirit.

Its head, Hendel, was a brilliant bureaucrat, but the house itself was far too weak to be called a central noble family.

Furthermore, Julian was thoroughly disguised in public as the “eldest son, a dullard with no mage talent whatsoever.”

If things continued this way, Hendel would surely find the daughter of some middling noble house with a reasonable amount of wealth and influence, then send Julian away as a live-in son-in-law.

“Absolutely not.”

The Great Sage’s sole blue eye turned cold.

Naturally, as his master, he wanted his disciple to enjoy ordinary and comfortable happiness.

But Julian bowing and scraping before some insignificant noble lady as he entered her family as a live-in son-in-law?

And that girl becoming Julian’s shackle?

“That must never happen.”

It would be a loss for humanity, and more than that, a tragedy for the Great Sage himself.

He wanted to see a bird soar into the sky.

Not be locked in a cage with shackles that did not even fit its body.

“Not even the daughter of a marquis would be enough.”

The Great Sage clicked his tongue and shook his head.

He wanted to find a partner worthy of Julian somehow.

But there was a fatal contradiction.

‘Still, I cannot reveal Julian’s identity to the world.’

What if it became known that Julian was the real owner of the Merkuer Trading Company and the creator of the Schnabel Formula?

What if it also became known that he was the Great Sage’s youngest disciple?

What if word spread that he could cure demon disease?

Not only the imperial family, but kings and Magic Tower Masters from across the continent would knock on the Nihirit estate’s doors, offering their daughters and granddaughters.

But excessive attention dried out flowers and killed them.

Julian had not yet matured enough to bear the greed and attention of that enormous world.

Besides, he was a child without mage talent who struggled even to protect himself.

As his master, it would be wrong to place such burdens on him.

‘What should I do...?’

Find the best possible fiancée suited to his disciple’s standing, while keeping his identity completely hidden.

Even for the Great Sage, it was an exceedingly difficult problem.

The Great Sage buried his chin in his clasped hands and thought deeply for a long time.

‘...’

After a long silence, the Great Sage’s closed lips slowly curled upward.

“Ah.”

The Great Sage lightly tapped the table and nodded.

There was exactly one person.

When Julian’s talent fully bloomed.

Someone worthy of standing beside him flashed through his mind.

“Yes... that child would be suitable.”

Thinking of whoever it was, an extremely mischievous smile spread across the Great Sage’s lips.

But he did not dare speak that young lady’s name aloud.

Instead, he only lifted the empty brandy glass and pretended to lightly clink it against the air.

“I should go have a cup of tea at the Imperial Palace soon.”

The thought of a battle of wills with that person already made the Great Sage tired.

What would he have to offer that old fox this time?

A single slip of the tongue had left him saddled with the position of Imperial Magic Adviser.

If he was not careful this time, he might end up as chancellor for life.

Still, it was trouble well worth enduring for his youngest disciple.

Putting the thought aside, the Great Sage turned his attention to another problem.

‘Come to think of it, I should solve another issue as well.’

By then, morning had come outside the window.

While the Great Sage worried over his youngest disciple, the moon had set and the sun had risen.

Sleep was a luxury for an eighth-Rank archmage, so he did not regret the night that had passed.

Instead, he focused again on the vision linked to Fitz in his mind.

‘My disciple has left things poorly tied up, so it is only proper for this master to take care of it.’

In his eyes, his youngest disciple was an innocent child who did not even know how to protect what was his.

Too innocent, and too kind.

Like the saint recorded in scripture.

But the Great Sage, who had lived for a thousand years, was not.

‘I’m sorry, young lady.’

Through Fitz’s vision connected to his mind, he saw the lower-ranking priestess leaving the front gate of the Nihirit estate.

It seemed Hendel, the head of the house, had summoned her, warned her, and let her go.

She hurried from the estate, holding a pouch of gold coins close to her chest.

Watching her retreating figure, the Great Sage quietly instructed Fitz.

‘Follow her.’

The Great Sage believed in people’s potential.

But he did not unconditionally believe in people’s goodwill or their ability to keep their mouths shut.

‘There is no guarantee that the priestess will return home and remain silent for the rest of her life.’

There had been a chilling threat from the head of a noble house, but fear dulled with time.

She would remain silent for now. She would chew over that warning again and again.

But human tongues were treacherous. She might make a mistake while swept up in drink at a gathering, or fail to bear the secret and seek out a confessional.

And that small lapse would spread the secret like a dam collapsing.

In that respect, Hendel Nihirit’s method was far too soft.

Fear alone could not keep a person’s mouth shut forever.

It probably would not even last a year.

The surest way to silence someone was not fear, but giving them an interest in keeping their own mouth closed.

The Great Sage’s gaze slowly swept over the table.

Materials related to the symposium, mountains of invitations sent by nobles.

And stacks of documents the Merkuer Trading Company had regularly sent as reports.

One document among them caught the Great Sage’s single eye.

[Merkuer Trading Company Talent Development Scholarship Foundation: Request for This Year’s Scholarship Student Recommendations]

The Great Sage’s eye narrowed like a snake’s.

‘Come to think of it, they said that priestess has two daughters.’