Free Web NovelChapter 445: Chapter 442: The Great Mage’s Ideal
Richard was "invited" into the secret chamber, where he saw the haggard Chief Mage.
The secret chamber was completely transformed. Its original mechanisms and fixtures had all been dismantled, leaving only a ritual site piled high with materials Necromancers favored—the most abundant resources a battlefield could provide.
Magic Power gathered, channeled through blood and bone, coalescing and transforming into a foul energy. Around the Chief Mage, the corpses of several former Casters were at work, maintaining a large-scale spell that had long been in preparation.
Despite the rather small, enclosed space and the various biological tissues, there was surprisingly no foul odor, even with the season turning from spring to summer. It was a clear sign that the army’s Chief Mage was a man who paid meticulous attention to detail. Richard could even smell the same faint citrus scent from the Great Mage’s office.
"I think very highly of you, Richard. When your father asked me to teach you, my first instinct was to refuse. But as it turns out, you are a fine student.
"It’s a shame that this time, you didn’t listen to your teacher. Normally, your caution would be correct. It was my momentary carelessness—I failed to control my servant, and his casual reply allowed you to uncover the truth. Carelessness always leads to disastrous consequences."
A Necromancer’s "servants" were rarely living people. Richard’s face turned grim. "Mr. Schmidt..."
"Like you, he was too inquisitive and unfortunately stumbled into this secret chamber." The Chief Mage pulled away from the ritual and walked slowly toward Richard. "But you are not like him. You are my student, my prized disciple. That is why I am willing to tell you what I am doing. I hope you can understand what is truly at stake...
"What do you think of the Empire under His Majesty the Emperor’s rule?"
’Huh?’ Richard never expected his teacher to pose such a question, and the accusations he had ready died in his throat.
Without waiting for an answer, the Chief Mage continued, "His Majesty is the greatest and wisest Monarch in the continent’s history. His heart is magnanimous enough to be unburdened by worldly prejudice, and his vision is far-reaching enough to illuminate the path forward for the Empire..."
’The Great Mage is just spouting flattery... no, that’s not it.’ Richard had rarely seen his teacher speak with such deep and genuine emotion. He was sincerely praising the Monarch he believed in.
He held up two withered fingers. "However, the Empire has many shortcomings, many misfortunes, which can currently be boiled down to two points: His Majesty’s life is nearing its end—he is, after all, a fragile mortal with a fleeting lifespan; and he is surrounded by vermin. Especially as the lion grows old, these insects have begun to deceive and mislead him, to blind him, to cheat him... to humiliate him."
The army’s Chief Mage’s murky eyes even showed a flicker of sorrow. "Even the Crown Prince... is the same. He is not fit to lead an Empire, unfit to satisfy any of its needs for a Monarch. This is plain to see from the appointment of the New Marshal..."
In the Chief Mage’s vision, he needed an ideal state that would allow him to utilize his talents to the fullest, unbound by the world’s prejudices. His Majesty the Emperor had created such a state, but it was only temporary.
When the Great Necromancer was entrusted with this great responsibility, he promised the Emperor that he would make the Empire an eternal, perfect existence. To him, His Majesty the Emperor was the perfect Monarch.
The only imperfection was His Majesty’s fleeting life. Recently, confined to his sickbed, he could no longer rule the Empire as he once had, no longer steer this rapidly advancing war chariot.
The army’s Chief Mage had witnessed his Monarch and closest friend be tormented by illness. ’How pitiable even the greatest of beings are at the moment of death!’ The Great Mage had opened his mouth and woven a lie, a false plan, yet His Majesty had still trusted him, allowing him to temporarily redeploy the Empire Army.
The Great Mage wanted to grant the Emperor an endless life. He firmly believed that if His Majesty had enough time, he could conquer the world and become the sovereign of all intelligent life. Such a mighty ruler would need someone to assist him wholeheartedly, someone to always remain by his side. The Chief Mage would become the Prime Minister, eternally second to one man alone.
Someone had to support and accompany the Emperor from the shadows, and that person could only be him. He would not hesitate, even if it meant losing his name and his human body, shouldering the greatest of all sins.
Only then, when the Empire became the world, could absolute stability and true prosperity finally be achieved.
’Is this "ambition"?’ The Chief Mage felt such a desire was too humble; it could only be called an ideal. He had already found the leader for his perfect state, and that leader’s final weakness as a mortal would be remedied by His Majesty’s most trusted Great Mage.
All it required was a Super Tier Magic, the Islelm Longevity Technique. For every life it reaped from a victim, it could extend the Caster’s lifespan by one year.
The Chief Mage had discovered this ancient Magic and had researched and improved upon it. Not only had he successfully expanded its "harvesting" range, but he had also altered the restriction that limited the life extension to the Caster, making it possible to grant that longevity to the Emperor.
"The common folk are foolish and timid. In the future, I will assist the Emperor from the shadows and will have no need to mind my own appearance. For a Necromancer, attaining longevity is a simple matter once you abandon the shackles of humanity. But His Majesty cannot do that. To make everyone submit to him willingly, he must first maintain his human identity and appearance."
"An immortal human?" Richard had never heard of such a thing. ’If the Empire had an immortal Monarch...’
Even though the Emperor had been a wise ruler to this day, a deep chill ran down Richard’s spine. "Nothing is eternal, and there should be no perpetual Empire."
"Why? Should these wars that only serve to increase casualties be allowed to exist? Should this situation, where intelligent life constantly fights over false concepts, be allowed to exist forever? There are too many foolish people. Only when a wise ruler with an endless lifespan appears to dominate them can all of this finally end."
"That would be the end of history." As Richard spoke, he once again unleashed a blast of Dragon Breath, aiming straight for the heart of the ritual.
"I am so disappointed in you, Richard! I gave you so many chances, and now you want to destroy your teacher’s ideal! You don’t understand! You have no idea what I’ve sacrificed! You cannot comprehend the magnificent future I have envisioned!"
The Necromancer roared, neutralizing the searing exhalation with his own Breath of Death to protect the ritual. This was the most critical moment; there could be no more mistakes.
He shot out a withered hand and seized Richard by the throat. "My student, you have forfeited your own life. You will now attain longevity in another form and bear witness to the great work of His Majesty and I..."
Energies of domination and death spread from the Great Mage’s tattoos toward Richard. Just as they were about to make contact and take effect, Richard’s form turned illusory.
"Thank you, Teacher. At least at first, you truly meant to spare me." He activated the first crystal, and the Gaseous Form within took effect, allowing him to temporarily slip from his master’s grasp.
"Of course, of course... I have always been sincere with you, just as I am with His Majesty... It’s a pity you have failed me."
The need to protect the ritual constrained the Great Mage’s actions, but when facing his own student, the Chief Mage was confident of an easy victory. "Schmidt" raised a hand and unleashed a Force Field blast, knocking the escaping Richard back into his solid form.
Immediately after, a massive wave of deathly energy surged forward, threatening to engulf Richard.
A blue barrier flared to life, surprisingly blocking the Great Mage’s controlled Breath of Death perfectly.
Behind Richard stood Pascal and Paul. They had sensed something was wrong, discovered the secret passage, and had even managed to take down two of the Caster-corpse servants.
’Once enemies, now my saviors...’ But Richard could only repay them with two words: "Get out."
"So... I’ll just go, then?" Pascal stammered, his eyes wide at the horrifying ritual of flesh and blood. Then he saw the fierce, scarred man and the tattooed, bald one—it was obvious at a glance that they were not to be trifled with.
