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Chapter 59
The quiet street suddenly erupted in waves of commotion.
Someone drew their curtains open, another peeked out from a chimney.
Lights that had been off flickered and flared to life.
“Did they say—the Grand Duke? Really?”
“The Guardian of Knowledge! The Godfather of Magic Stones! The Last Conscience of the Magical World! He’s here! Grand Duke Denok of House Luciano himself, in person!!”
“Ah, he’s finally here…! My research wasn’t in vain!”
In an instant, people poured out into the streets.
A middle-aged wizard with a tattered robe hem.
An engineer with rainbow-colored stains on his coat from whatever he’d been working on.
Even an elderly man leaning on his staff, struggling to walk.
They each greeted Denok with different expressions — some clasped their hands in reverence, others waved scrolls, begging, “Please, just read it once!”
One even shed tears, calling Denok “the star of all wizards.”
“I didn’t expect such a warm welcome…”
I murmured quietly, glancing up at Denok.
He stood there, expressionless, watching the wizards without much reaction.
But to me, he somehow seemed… tense. The subtle twitch of his eyes—
“Did you expect this might happen?” I whispered.
Without looking away from the crowd, he replied calmly,
“To some extent. The former Grand Duke Eclipse was once their benefactor… and when I was young, I sent feedback on a few of their research reports…”
His quiet voice continued,
“Eventually, so many reports poured in that I had to ask them to stop sending them.”
As he spoke, I looked around again.
The workshops were old but carefully maintained. The alleys and people still carried faint traces of mana.
Though many had left, those who remained had not forgotten their loyalty.
Then one of the gathered wizards stepped forward.
“If I may ask, Your Grace… what brings you to Markana? And with the Grand Duchess, no less?”
He glanced toward me.
When I smiled faintly, he flinched and bowed his head.
The crowd was growing, so I decided to step forward and speak.
“We came today to visit your workshops—to hear directly from you whether all is running well, and if you face any difficulties.”
At once, every gaze turned toward me.
“We also wished to express our gratitude to those of you who have remained in this district.”
When I met Denok’s eyes as I spoke, emotion rippled across the wizards’ faces.
It felt worth coming. These people had stayed out of loyalty and passion—at the very least, they deserved gratitude in person.
“I understand that each workshop has its own circumstances, so we can’t hear everything here and now.”
I took a breath, looking over the street—at the people shining in their own quiet ways, like remnants of starlight surviving through the years.
“We’ll visit each workshop in turn. If you have any troubles, tell us then.”
A brief silence fell.
The wizards exchanged thoughtful looks—then, suddenly—
“Do you… have anything ready?”
“No, I haven’t even finished revising the schematic yet!”
“The Grand Duke himself is coming—we need to clean up now!!”
And just like that, chaos erupted again.
Not at all what I had intended.
“Is this an inspection? A research presentation?!”
“I haven’t organized my results yet! Oh no, there’s a miscalculation in the mana matrix!!”
“I have to clean my workshop! My cloak isn’t even dry yet!!”
Wizards bolted in every direction, dashing toward their workshops.
They vanished as quickly as they had flooded the streets.
I turned to Denok, dumbfounded.
I’d only meant to hear their problems and offer support—but somehow, I’d turned into a tyrannical boss doing surprise evaluations.
Denok, still expressionless, watched the fleeing wizards.
“…What just happened…”
“It’s fine,” he said simply.
“…This is fine?”
He nodded slightly.
“This is actually quieter than usual.”
Soon, life began to flow back into the once-silent streets of Markana.
As Denok and Idis visited each workshop, some wizards passionately presented their research, while others spoke wearily of their hardships.
But most of their stories shared the same conclusion.
“The cost of materials has gone up too much…”
“Our techniques are considered outdated now. Everyone’s moved to the Arcane District in the capital.”
“My mentor left the territory and now serves as dean at another academy…”
The common thread was always the same—those who left took their talent, fame, and clients with them.
“The technology’s nearly perfected, but the quality of raw mana stones is too poor for practical use.”
“The theory is complete, but we can’t realize it—there’s just no funding to continue the research.”
As a result, money stopped circulating, and research stagnated—caught in a long, painful loop.
Denok and Idis felt that reality firsthand as they moved from one workshop to another.
Idis took notes, offering kind words of comfort.
Denok quietly flipped through research journals, occasionally pointing out flaws or suggesting improvements.
He was, after all, once one of Luciano’s most promising talents, well-versed in the house’s knowledge.
Their visits continued until sunset.
As the sky burned red and shadows stretched through the streets, one by one, the lamps flickered on—
the scene looked almost as if the once-glorious Markana had come alive again.
“It seems we’ll have much to do when we return,” Denok remarked.
Idis smiled softly.
“Still, it was worth coming here, wasn’t it?”
Denok said nothing, but nodded. His face remained stoic—but Idis caught the faint upward curve of his lips.
She looked beyond the now-peaceful street, scanning the workshops they hadn’t yet visited.
“Come to think of it… we haven’t met Arbel yet.”
The documents had listed “Workshop No. 3.” He should be somewhere along this street.
Idis approached a nearby wizard sorting through blueprints.
“Excuse me, but is there a wizard named Arbel Thompson around here?”
The man paused, looked up at her—and then waved his hands quickly in alarm.
“Oh, Grand Duchess, ma’am—best not to meet that lunatic if you can help it.”
“…Lunatic?”
Idis couldn’t hide her puzzlement.
The wizard frowned, shaking his head as though recalling something unpleasant.
