Chapter 103

Return of The 8th Class Mage Chapter 103

Ian had cast his own mana, so the princess’ powers didn’t affect the wall at all.

“I was wondering why you didn’t do that today.”

“Hehe.” The princess burst out laughing, as she so often did during training. Her laugh was joyful, unlike the serious atmosphere they were training in, but it was nice.

“I feel as if I’m letting it all out. I never had the chance to do this before, but I could get used to doing this.”

“I understand. It’s one of the joys of using magic.”

Until recently, this arena had been used for Ian and Spartoi’s training. The floors and walls seemed to be a little broken down than before, and he figured it was Princess HIley’s doing.

***

After Ian had escorted the princess safely to the palace, he walked into the night on his way back home. Teleportation was nice, but it wasn’t too bad to be able to sink deep into his thoughts as he walked.

‘I thought it would be all over once I had gotten my revenge.’

Pushing his thoughts aside, Ian slipped out a book from his pocket. It was the diary of Mitchell Greenriver. He had been reading it thoroughly during the past twenty days.

‘The Owner of the Ivory Tower.’

That was the first thing that came to mind when he thought of Mitchell Greenriver.

Even the description of him fit him perfectly in the diary.

‘A member of the royal family who freely journeyed around the world.’

He had escaped all of the deadly competition of taking over the throne.

After that, he had roamed all over the land for over a decade, and became the owner of the Ivory Tower when he returned. He was lower than Ian in magical abilities, but much more experienced.

‘And thanks to him, an Artifact was made.’

It was pure luck how he had received that Blue Robe of his. Long story short, Mitchell Greenriver met an artisan during his journey, and he had received the handmade Artifact as a gift for helping the artisan.

It was a cloudy day, the last day of the constellation of the Golden Goat.

Today, I was to make history, the day I had dreamed of since I was a child.

I had always wanted to fly like a bird. But I knew the limits of the Flying Spell.

Even though I had reached Class 5, no matter how much I studied and tested the spell, things didn’t change.

But today will be different.

This Blue Robe will grant my wish.

My long, awaited wish.

I’m excited.]

This was Mitchell Greenriver’s last entry on anything related to the Blue Robe.

Reading the text, it seemed like this artisan had sewed a particular magical ability Greenriver had wanted. It was probably the Flying Spell.

‘An artisan who makes Artifacts, huh?’ Ian thought to himself.

It was most likely this master was now dead. After all, three hundred years had passed.

It was likely he had a successor.

‘Even now, the process of making Artifacts is a mystery.’

It wouldn’t be surprising if Artifacts from three hundred years ago were also full of secrets.

Mitchell Greenriver had simply crossed ways by chance, and received the robe as a gift, which just happened to be a lucky opportunity for him.’

‘If there was a successor, there is a possibility the secrets could have been passed down. They might be living isolated from the rest of the world, just like the fairy clan.’

Now the question was where Ian would be able to find the successor of the artisan. He had already asked the Fairy Queen and Evantus if they knew of any skilled artisan who might know how to make Artifacts. They had already told him they didn’t know.

‘It’s not that I can ask the Dragon right this second.’

He couldn’t whip up a potion that would help him slip through time immediately.

He had run out of gargoyle eyes, the most important material. It would be impossible unless Evantus found the whereabouts of the gargoyles.

‘There aren’t enough clues.’

But there was still some that he could find in the diary.

There were a few, but they were crucial.

The first clue was about where Mitchell and the artisan had first met.

It was three hundred years ago at Piltin Kingdom.

This kingdom had fallen and no longer existed.

‘It is now part of the dukedom of the Low Lands.’

The territory of Piltin was now more of a dukedom than a kingdom. It was also territory Ian had been to most parts of as the war came to an end, but Piltin Kingdom had been close to surrendering. Ian didn’t have many memorable occasions there since he was only sent there to fight.

‘He even describes the artisan’s physical characteristics.’

The second hint was the list of details of the artisan’s characteristics. It varied from his appearance, habits, and tone.

This was the list of details concerning the master.

He definitely didn’t seem normal.

“Hmm..” Ian muttered as he repeatedly read Mitchell’s diary to himself.

He then had a new goal in mind.

‘I need to go to the Piltin territory.’

Normally, Ian wouldn’t get on the act with only a small clue, but there was no other choice.

Plus, he was in a hurry.

He needed that resistant force that would help him stand against the Dragon.

‘I should take the silk with me just in case.’

He whisked out the silk he had received as a tribute in his ‘pocket’ out of thin air.

He hurriedly started matching up the coordinates of his location first.

His destination was the Pltin Territory, of which, of course, he had no living memory.

It was impossible for him to teleport there.

For now, the only area he could teleport to was the capital of the dukedom, Loharam, and its vicinity.

Even this wasn’t close enough.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say Loharam and the Piltin Territory were at opposite ends of the land.

‘Too bad.’

He had no one to blame for himself. It was he who should have had more experience in different parts of the region. If he were Mitchell Greenriver himself, this would be the one place he had never been to.

‘Let’s get going.’ Ian thought to himself.

Soon, he was on his way, leaving only a note behind at home saying he would be back soon.

***

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Ian was about to take his first steps on the lands of the Low Dukedom.

It seemed he had succeeded in his teleportation.

Except for one thing..

“Finally!” One unfamiliar boy ran up to him without warning

“You have finally come, you assassin!” The boy shouted, sticking out a blade at Ian’s throat.