Verden held within his mind a vast wealth of magical knowledge.
But true to his affiliation with the Bohemirn Magic Tower, his specialty lay strictly within the realm of elemental magic.
He couldn't handle high-tier spells like others, and his mana circuits weren't inclined toward any specific attribute.
To that, add Defying the Heavens. A body freed from all limits.
The inborn limits of tier and attribute, which could never be overcome, no longer bound Verden.
The forest burned fiercely. Goblins and orcs screamed in his ears.
A goblin's leg was severed. The fallen creature was trampled to death by a charging orc.
As he watched the frenzied demi-humans charging in from all directions, Verden calmly processed the situation.
Orcs could easily crush a man to pulp, but they were dull and reckless. Goblins, on the other hand, were cowards who relied on numbers. But all he saw in them now was madness.
As if something had possessed them.
'This isn't a normal situation.'
Yet it posed no real threat.
A wave of mana swept through the area. Nearby goblins screamed as their eyes and eardrums burst, while the orcs staggered.
He poured in his mana to the maximum.
Eight blue arrows rained down, piercing the orcs' bodies. Their thick hides kept the wounds from being fatal, but it must've pissed them off quite a bit.
The creatures bared their teeth, exhaling ragged breaths as they charged at Verden again.
'As expected, simple-minded.'
Thud! A clown-faced orc's fist slammed into the dirt wall.
The creature let out a roar and smashed through the wall with brute force, but Verden, who should have been behind it, was already gone.
He stood atop the thick wall, looking down at the demi-humans below, and began weaving mana.
Double Casting.
A feat achievable only by mages who had completely mastered and understood the spells they cast.
If one truly understood the elements and had expert control of mana, even fusing two or more elemental attributes became possible.
And the destructive power of such magic—transcended established tiers.
Elemental fusion magic.
Arrows of blazing flame that set the air itself alight rained down on the ground.
Boom! Boom boom! Goblins caught in the explosions were charred to cinders, while orcs that still retained their shape collapsed, clutching their throats.
Their airways had been scorched by the intense heat. They writhed, choking in agony, until one by one, they stopped moving.
Shards of rock shot out, blasting off the heads of the fallen orcs. A final blow to eliminate all variables.
Only then did Verden descend to the ground. Acrid smoke and the stench of blood pricked at his nose.
Unlike the view from above, the scene up close was quite gruesome.
"…Did I really do all this?"
Verden let out a small chuckle as he calmed his excitement.
Had this happened just a few days ago, he would've died instantly. He would've had to pour his soul into defeating even a single orc, lacking both firepower and mana.
That's how talentless he had been as a mage.
And yet, look at him now.
He had effortlessly burned dozens of demi-humans to ash. Even if their numbers had been double, he wouldn't have felt threatened.
A vast reservoir of mana swirled quietly within his heart, beyond comparison to others.
If this was his current state, he could hardly wait to see how strong he might become in the future.
'Looks like there are no more enemies.'
The area was secure.
As he lifted the Earthen Wall that had just encased someone, Conrad, who had been peeking through a small gap, blinked his eyes.
Verden walked over and held out a hand.
"Are you hurt anywhere?"
There was strength in Verden's voice, as if declaring he was no longer the weak one.
***
Verden was skilled in menial work.
From simple chores to the dirtiest tasks. Despite his young age, he worked harder than anyone alongside Rovellin. All in the hopes of catching the eye of a mage.
That included repairing carriages.
"Man, first we get surrounded by bandits, then the mercenaries run off, then some crazy orcs show up. Barely escape that, and the cart flips, then more demi-humans come out of nowhere… Honestly, if it weren't for you, I'd have ended up as orc and goblin chow. I know I've said it already, but thank you again, truly!"
Holding the reins, Conrad bowed his head once more.
He'd not only been saved, but even had his carriage repaired. Pride meant nothing compared to the gratitude he felt. He just wanted Verden to understand how thankful he was.
"…It's fine, just keep your eyes on the road."
Verden's reply was a little curt, but it couldn't be helped.
'That's the seventh "thank you" already.'
It was nice at first, but hearing it repeatedly started to feel like torture.
They say merchants live by their tongue. Maybe that's why they never tire of talking. Verden's face gradually stiffened with each reply.
Sensing another round of gratitude coming, he quickly changed the topic.
"By the way, is this area known for frequent bandit attacks? The number of demi-humans felt unusually high."
"No, I've traveled this road many times, and nothing like this has ever happened. A bandit gang and a horde of demi-humans? Unheard of. I even got a letter from Lord Pythe… Ah, you said you were lost, right? Lord Pythe governs this barony. I correspond with him sometimes, and he assured me the bandits had been taken care of, told me to travel safely. So I figured I'd save some money and hired cheap mercenaries and, well…"
He really does talk a lot.
Still, if this was the Pythe territory, then the spatial coordinates Verden had set were correct.
'Good.'
He kept only the key details in mind and let the rest flow in one ear and out the other. After venting his frustrations, Conrad asked cautiously,
"Um… mage, sir?"
"You may call me Asher."
The wandering mage, Asher.
A name Verden devised after seeing his newly ash-gray hair.
He had reconstructed his body and even changed his appearance—so a name to match was only natural.
Until he accumulated enough strength, he planned to go by Asher. To erase any trail that might be used to track him.
'Not that I left any clues to begin with.'
He was far enough that no one would ever find him.
From the Bohemirn Magic Tower to the principality—while people say it's only half a continent, unless it's news of war or the fall of a nation, word wouldn't even make it that far.
Even with the development of magic making the sharing of information easier, there were clear limits.
Every nation carried its own form of isolationism.
To be honest, Verden hadn't even known the principality existed until he started planning. That's how far removed it was.
Which is why obtaining even the smallest amount of information had cost him a significant amount of money.
Thus, while the chances of his real name reaching this place were virtually zero, it was still wise to take every possible precaution.
For more complete growth.
'I'll use the name Verden only when I can face the Master of the Bohemirn Magic Tower and his close associates head-on.'
Until then, he planned to hide his identity completely.
He had already constructed a background to suit the alias.
An orphan, taken in by a revered master, and raised both as a disciple and a child in the mountains—that was the story.
A false past fabricated by Verden. It was the most believable narrative he could create. Even if someone were to doubt him, there'd be no trail to uncover.
Conrad, after repeating the name Asher to himself a few times, asked Verden,
"Ah, yes. Lord Asher, if it's not too forward of me, would you consider coming with me to meet the lord? As I mentioned earlier, I have a rather close relationship with the lord. You saved my life, not to mention the goods the lord had ordered, so I'm sure he'll want to thank you properly. Of course, I fully intend to speak on your behalf."
'I didn't do this expecting a reward…'
But if one were offered, he had no reason to refuse.
Verden hesitated briefly.
Now, being only at the second tier, he couldn't tell whether making acquaintances with a noble would be beneficial or dangerous.
'According to what I researched, Lord Pythe is said to be quite respected.'
What to do?
His tier was low. On top of that, he knew next to nothing about the political landscape of the principality, so a reckless move might drag him into some tiresome political squabble.
'But it's a good opportunity as well.'
Just as a sword is essential to a swordsman, magic is everything to a mage.
And what strengthens that magic are magic items. In an extreme case, Verden once used the Tower Master's collection to ambush and kill two third-tier mages.
Naturally, items imbued with magic were expensive.
Among them, the high-performing ones—most couldn't even get a glimpse of them without the right connections, regardless of how much money they had.
So, as long as he kept a safe distance, forming ties with a well-reputed noble in this unfamiliar land where no one knew him could prove valuable in the future. The same applied to this talkative merchant beside him.
'Besides, I plan to reach the third tier soon anyway.'
As Conrad waited for his answer, Verden finally spoke.
"Very well. Though I wonder, would an unannounced visit be considered discourteous to the lord…"
"Discourteous? No, not at all! I, Conrad, can assure you, he'll surely welcome you! So please, don't worry yourself and feel at ease. Lord Pythe is a very kind and loyal man. There won't be any trouble. Really, I promise."
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.
That was the motto of House Conrad, a family of merchants from birth.
That also included gratitude. A precious life had been saved—repaying that with a worthy price was only right.
But, they never did business at a loss.
'A wandering mage! I can't let this one slip!'
In today's world, knowledge of mages was fundamental.
Which is why Conrad could barely contain his excitement.
Ordinary mages reach the third tier in their lifetime, perhaps early fourth at best.
Even if someone's aptitude test claimed a potential for the fifth tier, that didn't mean fast growth—nor did it guarantee reaching it.
How many people in the world had ever even touched the limit of their potential?
Given that, it was only natural. Without exceptional talent and extraordinary effort, no one could reach their limits.
Conrad glanced at Verden's appearance.
'At most, mid-20s…'
So young.
Yet he wielded three attributes—fire, air, and earth—and the power of his magic was anything but ordinary. Seeing how he instantly incinerated those demi-humans with overwhelming firepower… Conrad couldn't be sure, but he was at least third tier, possibly fourth given his composure.
That meant there was a high chance he was the disciple of some distinguished mage.
A true prodigy.
'If I don't make a connection, I'm no merchant!'
Meeting such talent at such a desperate moment—this had to be fate.
Quick, quickly, let's get to the lord.
Hyah! To reach their destination before the sun set, Conrad drove the horses at full speed.