Chapter 497: A Busy Return (2)
At Oliver’s request to speak freely, Ünner gathered her courage and spoke, asking him to accept them.
Most likely, the "them" she referred to included herself, Orshoye, Katalin, Andrássy, and Pal—the five sisters.
Oliver remained silent for several seconds at the unexpected request, and the emotionless expression Ünner maintained gradually shifted to anxiety and unease.
Just before her emotions were completely overtaken by worry and fear, Oliver finally spoke.
"…I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting such a request, and I’m not sure how to respond."
"I understand."
Ünner replied. It wasn’t common for weaker warlocks to pledge allegiance to a stronger one, but it somehow felt fitting in this case. After all, that was precisely why they chose to do so in the first place.
"May I ask you some questions?"
"As many as you’d like. I’ll answer everything I can."
Oliver asked sincerely, enjoying a sweet dessert as he spoke. It was delicious.
"The first question I’d like to ask is, why are you making such a request to me? Aren’t you already affiliated with the Tower of Magic?"
"That’s not enough to give us peace of mind. While the Tower has accepted us, how long will they actually continue to protect us?"
Oliver remained silent, not having considered the issue before. It was a legitimate concern upon reflection. Although they had joined the Tower under certain conditions, there was no guarantee those conditions would last forever. Promises tended to be flexible for some people.
"Though the Grand Master is looking after us, I’m afraid that alone isn’t enough to set us at ease. He’s quite old, and more importantly, my sisters and I are well aware of how easily a man’s favor can vanish, given our backgrounds as women from the streets. I hope you understand."
"I understand. Everyone has their own circumstances. But, isn’t it a problem that I’m also a man?"
"We believe that Sir Dave won’t just protect us, but also teach us. We’ve heard about the Fighter Crew. It’s said you taught them without expecting anything in return."
"How did you hear about that?"
"It’s a well-known rumor in the Tower."
"Why?"
Oliver asked, sounding aggrieved. He had thought it was a secret.
"Well… isn’t it natural for rumors to spread when the greatest fixer in the backstreets and a businessman controlling an entire district is employed as a regular staff member at the Tower?"
"…Ah."
Oliver couldn’t help but exclaim at Ünner’s response. Indeed, it made sense.
"Unique individuals always attract attention, and attention inevitably gives rise to rumors… Thanks to that, we heard just how well Sir Dave trained the dark horses of the backstreets. It doesn’t seem like an ordinary skill."
"It’s thanks to the Fighter Crew’s hard work."
"My sisters and I are confident we can follow just as well. Moreover, we’re willing to serve Sir Dave in exchange… No, we’re prepared to devote ourselves to you."
Ünner’s proactive attitude stood out. Though such words could easily be dismissed as empty talk, given the typical master-servant dynamics among warlocks, her emotions suggested otherwise.
It seemed that Ünner had a specific card to play.
To prove it, she spoke boldly.
"There will come a time when Sir Dave will need us. When that time comes, we will prove our usefulness. If we fail to satisfy you, we will accept any punishment."
Just like her previous words, Ünner’s sincerity remained evident.
Was it because of this? Despite the fatigue from his recent encounters—the hunger of the Flesh Chef, the burns from the Burnt One, and the exhaustion from the New World—Oliver found himself quite intrigued by this conversation.
"What exactly do you mean when you say I might need your help?"
"The Black Magician Society is in turmoil."
Ünner started abruptly, stating that the Black Magician Society was experiencing upheaval.
"One of the Four Fingers is dead, and another is injured. It’s only natural for things to be in disarray."
"The Four Fingers…?"
"The leaders who represent the Black Hand: the Eternal Puppet, the Pied Piper, the Eternal Child Pan, and the Flesh Chef. They’re monstrous figures who have dominated the Black Magician Society for centuries, or at least decades."
Monsters. Oliver nodded at the term.
Just Puppet alone had lived for centuries, commanding an army of zombies on his own.
The Flesh Chef was someone even Crime Firm, the largest organization in Celland, avoided fighting.
Pan, too, could manipulate numerous creatures and even toyed with paladins, who were typically the nemeses of warlocks.
"I don’t know much about the Pied Piper, except for the massive bounty on him…"
In any case, among those figures, the Flesh Chef had been officially slain by Merlin, while Pan was also injured.
"Although each of the Fingers is powerful and evil, they’ve helped maintain a certain balance. While minor disputes never ceased, there were no large-scale conflicts because these monsters stood firm in their respective territories."
"And now, that’s no longer the case?"
"Yes, there’s a power vacuum. Countless ambitious individuals, previously suppressed by the Fingers, will rise up, and some of them may target Sir Dave."
"…Me?"
Oliver asked in disbelief.
"Because you were present when the Flesh Chef fell, and you fought against Pan."
"It was the elder who defeated the Flesh Chef, and as for Pan, I only assisted the paladins."
"Such details don’t matter to the ambitious… What matters is that Sir Dave was there, and that you were injured. Is your wound severe?"
"It hurts a bit."
Oliver glanced at his right arm, pondering whether he really would be targeted.
In the past, Puppet had given him a similar warning, stating that more people—be they mages or warlocks—would come after him to elevate their reputation or gather research data.
In fact, someone from Martel had once kidnapped Rosburn just to lure Oliver.
"No warlocks have tried to attack me so far… Or maybe they didn’t because Puppet protected me, as the Flesh Chef once mentioned. But that’s not the case anymore."
This meant that the likelihood of being targeted by warlocks had significantly increased. It might become a hassle.
Sensing Oliver’s concern, Ünner spoke with conviction.
"If you take us in, we’ll bring you plenty of valuable information on the matter. Although our influence has diminished, we possess deep knowledge of the Black Magician Society and know how to acquire information. We can also support you within the Tower."
"Within the Tower as well?"
"Yes. Although you may not be aware, there are quite a few people in the Tower who don’t look favorably upon Sir Dave."
"Oh, is that so?"
Oliver responded as if it were someone else’s problem, because to him, it felt that way.
"Your past is shrouded in mystery, you have the Archive’s backing, you’re well-versed in black magic despite being a mage, and you’ve demonstrated your talents through various achievements and papers."
Ünner suddenly praised Oliver, though it wasn’t mere flattery. It was an objective assessment of his position within the Tower.
Having debuted as a fixer in Landa, his background remained unclear, despite his association with the Archive and reputation as Merlin's disciple. His deep knowledge of black magic, along with a series of impressive feats and published papers, had proven his prowess in both practical and theoretical aspects.
The rumors about Oliver circulating within the Tower weren’t solely because he had founded a fixer agency or a business. His enigmatic background and exceptional skills were significant contributing factors.
"Incidentally, some mages are planning to use your paper for their own research."
"You mean the paper on Reconstructing and Transplanting Organs and Bodies Through the Integration of Blood Magic and Life Magic?"
"Yes, though it seems they intend to approach it from a different perspective than medicine."
"That's fine."
Oliver responded with ease. It truly didn’t matter to him what they did with it. In fact, he hoped they would do something. It would give him the opportunity to learn even more.
Ünner felt an inexplicable sense of awe from him—something beyond mere physical strength. It was a higher form of power.
Was there ever a warlock who treated knowledge so lightly?
Ünner pondered for a moment before shaking her head. It wasn’t that he undervalued knowledge. Rather, he displayed an insatiable greed that was almost terrifying.
It was like sharing ten and taking back the remaining one, an endless, bottomless greed.
"…Several Life School mages left the Tower while you were away. Some had issues revealed during the Life School reform, while others harbored discontent with the current Grand Master. Also, there’s growing interest among some Tower members in the forest you own in the X-District."
After pausing to admire his dedication, Ünner continued to share various details about the Tower. Some of it was information Oliver already knew, but there were also some new developments.
"This is our specialty. Even though we’re still being monitored, we manage to gather information. If there’s anything else you need, we will serve to the best of our ability. Please, accept us."
Once again, Ünner pleaded earnestly. Her words were filled with sincerity, for the sake of herself and her sisters.
It seemed she intended to break away from the shadow of the Flesh Chef and build a future with her sisters after his death. It wasn’t a bad idea.
"Hmm… I’m not sure about taking you in, but how about we cooperate?"
"Pardon?"
Oliver replied while finishing the dessert on his plate.
"The thing is, I’m not someone capable of taking others in. How about we just help each other out? You, Ünner, can assist me with what you can do, and I’ll support you with what I can."
As Oliver finished speaking, he casually extended his left hand. Ünner hesitated for a moment, looked at him, and then grasped his hand.
"Yes, I look forward to working with you."
...
After establishing a partnership with Ünner, Oliver immediately returned home.
Driving the custom-made vehicle he had received from General Philip himself, he found that every car on the road courteously yielded, allowing him to arrive quickly and easily.
Clunk.
Oliver opened the front door and stepped inside his mansion.
It felt like a long time since he had been home. In fact, the dust accumulating throughout the house confirmed that it had indeed been quite a while.
“Well… considering I spent more time in the New World than I originally planned, it’s no surprise.”
Oliver took off his clothes as he always did and changed into something more comfortable, preparing to clean the house.
Although he was tempted to rest right away, he thought that tidying up first might allow him to relax more completely.
Propping the quarterstaff against a wall, he began cleaning with just one arm. After a few minutes, a curious voice interrupted him.
"Wouldn’t it be faster to use magic to clean? Why are you doing it by hand, and with just one arm?"
"Well, I find that cleaning by hand feels more satisfying than using magic. And I’m only using my left arm because my right one is injured."
"I see… Then why not hire a maid or a cleaning service? The money I gave you should be more than enough for that."
"Because of the workshop in the basement, that would be difficult. Even though I dismantle everything when I leave, I can’t be too careful. Besides, I don’t like having strangers in my house."
"And am I an exception?"
"Well, you’re my mentor, so it’s different."
Oliver, who had swiftly completed the cleaning, responded while looking in the direction where Merlin was seated.
Merlin had appeared in the room at some point and was sitting comfortably as if it were his own home. It didn’t bother Oliver in the slightest.
After all, Merlin was his mentor, and Oliver had often visited Merlin’s mansion without any prior notice. He had no reason to complain.
He did, however, feel a bit overwhelmed. It was understandable, given that upon returning to Landa, he had met Forest, formally established a partnership with Ünner, cleaned his home, and now was meeting Merlin.
"Did I come at a bad time, pestering you like an inconsiderate old man?"
"No, that’s not it. In fact, I was hoping to see you, sir. Would you like some coffee?"
Oliver asked, looking straight at Merlin as he put away the cleaning tools.
He wondered if he could catch a glimpse of Merlin's emotions, but the mentor’s magic barrier was thicker than ever, as if he had anticipated this.
"Will you have some too?"
"No, I already had some at the café. Besides, I’m thinking of cutting back on coffee. Lately, I’ve been having trouble sleeping."
"…I see."
Merlin glanced at Oliver's injured right arm and immediately understood. The severe burn would certainly make it difficult to sleep.
Indeed, the burn was causing Oliver some trouble, and he had been struggling with insomnia.
"I’d still like a cup, so if you don’t mind… I heard there were quite a few events in the New World. Is it true?"
Oliver brewed the coffee with one hand and placed it respectfully in front of Merlin.
"A few things happened… Did General Philip tell you?"
"It might have been Philip, or perhaps someone else. My eyes and ears are everywhere… The coffee is good."
"Thank you. I’m glad you like it."
Merlin took another sip of the coffee.
"Now, then, I should repay you for the fine coffee. Why did you want to see an annoying old man like me so soon after returning from the New World?"
Oliver stood there, contemplating. He had so many questions he wanted to ask.
For example, why had Merlin come to meet him as soon as he returned? Or, what exactly was a Noble Existence, and what was a demon?
As always, he had a multitude of questions.
Fortunately, Oliver had gotten used to asking questions over the years, and he had learned to start with the most urgent matter.
"Master, would you be willing to spar with me?"
Oliver asked abruptly, requesting a sparring match with the Archive...