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Chapter 61
The man’s purple robe was covered with soot and stains, and his tangled golden hair stuck out wildly like an unkempt thicket.
He looked exactly like the kind of person one would call a madman.
Sensing their gaze, perhaps, the man—who had been standing slouched with drooping shoulders—suddenly lifted his head.
His round, pinkish eyes widened like a startled rabbit’s, and he stumbled backward in fright.
“Hiiick…! A-a person!”
He gasped and tried to hide the strange device behind him.
“It—it’s not dangerous, so please don’t take it away from me!”
His voice cracked with panic.
Edith tried to calm him down, but before she could, the man tripped over his own contraption and lost his balance.
Thud.
“Ow…!”
He toppled forward awkwardly, the picture of clumsiness—nothing about him matched the word genius.
But there was no doubt that the blue smoke they’d seen earlier contained magic.
She had never heard of magic taking the form of smoke before.
This man must be the mage I think he is.
Edith kept her tone gentle, careful not to startle him further.
“Are you Arvel Thompson?”
At her words, Arvel flinched and looked up. Then, realizing that the two before him were clearly of noble status, he quickly bowed his head again.
“Wh-who are you—ah! Your Grace Duke Luciano!”
Then, noticing the woman beside him, he blurted out,
“And… Her Grace the Duchess!”
His voice trembled with shock and awe. Then, hesitantly, he whispered,
“But… why have you come to see me…?”
“Your research seemed… intriguing,” Denok replied.
Arvel’s head snapped up, but the moment he met Denok’s cold gaze, he shrank back again, though his flushed cheeks betrayed his excitement.
“M-my research, you say? Y-yes, well…!”
Like someone being noticed for the very first time, Arvel began to speak rapidly, barely pausing to breathe.
“I wanted to break through the limits of traditional mana circuit design! Instead of having mana simply flow along fixed paths, I’ve been trying to reshape the structure of the mana stones themselves to trigger internal reactions—no, I mean, yes! The standard triple-series system is inefficient, so I created a dual-reactive structure! I haven’t named it yet, but—”
His voice grew louder and his gestures more animated, even tracing imaginary circuits in the air.
Edith hid her confusion behind a polite smile.
“I… I see.”
She didn’t understand a single thing he was saying—but one thing was clear:
Arvel clearly hadn’t interacted with many people outside of his work.
As Arvel continued his ramble, Denok finally interrupted.
“An interesting approach. But perhaps we should continue this conversation inside.”
At that, Arvel blinked, realizing how carried away he’d become.
“Ah—aha… y-yes, of course! This way, please…”
He turned quickly and hurried into his workshop.
Following him inside, Edith and Denok couldn’t help but be taken aback by what they saw.
From the outside, the workshop had looked shabby—but the interior was something else entirely.
In the middle of the room stood a massive worktable, large enough for two people to lie on.
Stacks of papers and tangled schematics covered every inch of it, and from the ceiling hung crystals and orbs of unknown purpose, suspended by thin wires and glowing faintly.
It felt like stepping into a child’s drawing—or into the chaotic shape of someone’s thoughts made visible.
“P-please, have a seat!”
Arvel hurriedly shoved piles of papers aside and pulled out chairs for them.
“Mind your feet, though! One of the devices I made yesterday is still active—ah, wait!”
He stooped to grab a small metal contraption off the floor, checked something, then sighed in relief.
“Good. It hasn’t exploded yet.”
Both Edith and Denok narrowed their eyes.
Arvel froze under their gaze, then let out an awkward laugh.
“J-joking! Just joking, hahahaha…”
“Sit down,” Denok ordered curtly.
Arvel obeyed instantly, perching on the chair like a scolded child.
Only then did Edith relax enough to speak.
“We’ve been visiting workshops to ask if anyone’s facing difficulties—or to hear about recent accomplishments. Please, speak freely.”
She expected him to brighten and start talking excitedly again, but instead, at the word accomplishments, his face fell.
“Ah… I’ve been making progress, but, well…”
He fidgeted with his hands, unable to finish the sentence.
The silence that followed was uncomfortable. Edith tried again, her tone gentle.
“If there’s anything difficult, you can tell us. We came to help, after all.”
At that, Arvel hesitated, then finally spoke.
“After my master passed away… I haven’t been able to make much headway.”
His gaze drifted toward the scattered blueprints on the table.
“It was the project we started together after he took me in—an orphan. But… working alone, it just hasn’t gone as I hoped.”
He gave a small, embarrassed laugh and lowered his head.
Seeing his dejected expression, Edith couldn’t help but feel sympathy.
Regardless of the great things he might achieve in the future, right now he looked like a lonely man clinging to experiments no one recognized.
Just as she was about to speak words of comfort, a low voice interrupted beside her.
“I’ll help you.”
“…What?”
Arvel’s eyes widened in astonishment as he looked at Denok.
Edith, too, turned to him in surprise.
Denok stepped forward, meeting Arvel’s gaze directly. In his hand—she wasn’t sure when he’d picked it up—was one of the messy blueprints.
“You’re trying to extract a different form of power from the mana stone.”
Arvel froze.
“H-how did you know that—? Yes! That’s exactly right!”
“The circuits are divided in two. You’re forcing the mana to react within the stone and release outward—but that’s unstable. It could easily backfire and harm you.”
At those words, a realization struck Edith.
The explosion from earlier—the blue smoke that had poured out when they opened the door.
It hadn’t been a simple accident. It was evidence of a failed experiment.
Arvel’s expression darkened.
“…I know. But I wanted to make it work. It was my late master’s final dream.”
His voice was quiet but resolute, filled with unwavering determination.
So that’s it, Edith thought.
Even after countless failures, he’d kept going—driven by that single promise.
She looked down at the scattered schematics again: smudged notes, erased calculations, hundreds of mistakes.
How many lonely nights had he spent here, clinging to that dream no one else believed in?
Then… if Denok helps him…
She slowly raised her head to look at them both.
On one side, the mage who refused to give up on his dream.
On the other, the only person capable of helping him realize it.
Maybe… we could recruit Arvel—the great magician of the future.
Her eyes sparkled with excitement at the thought.
