A resounding ding suddenly appeared inside Victor’s head, and a blue holographic screen blocked a large part of his vision.
[Mission Accomplished!]
[Congratulations on passing the mission. You have done well in tricking a local to be an NPC.]
[The reward (20 progression value points) has been issued.]
Hang on, so the true objective of the mission was to implant the Shadowlink Mark? Unknowingly, Victor was being manipulated by the System and whoever was the one who designed it. The thought had lingered in his mind, given the nature of past missions, but it had always been subtle and never directly about him. Oh well, not that it’s possible to do anything about that right now. But just in case, I may have to take measures later.
Going against the System’s guidance wouldn’t get him anywhere at the moment, and it always pointed him in what seemed like the best direction possible. Maybe there would come a day when the mission contradicted his goal. After all, it provided no details about the failure to comply with it, meaning that it was unknown what the consequences might come from going against it. There could be nothing at all. He should probably explore the possibility when he got the chance.
Eleanor’s voice interrupted his train of thought. “Sir Magus?” she asked, looking puzzled. “Is something wrong?”
Victor realized his concerns had briefly shown on his face. He quickly composed himself and shook his head. “It’s nothing.” After a brief pause to collect his thoughts, he stated, “From now on, you will work as the Artificer of this academy and the manager of the blacksmith workshop, and you need to do whatever I ask you to do.” He made it clear from the start, now that she already bore the Shadowlink Mark.
It was important to note that Victor didn’t completely trust her, but the mark on her wrist could monitor and control her actions to some degree. It could be said to be similar to what he was doing with the players, but this one was for NPCs. Powerful Magi would be better off using magic contracts and whatnot with the addition of this, though. But for now, he had none.
“Can you tell me the details? Especially about this black mark?” she inquired.
“Yes. Your job here is to craft and sell weapons and armor to the acolytes. Eventually, you will also deal in magic tools. The Shadowlink Mark on your wrist acts as a transaction device and a means to issue tasks or missions to the acolytes…”
Video games were a foreign thing to a local in this world. Explaining the concept of “players” would only make things more complicated. Victor wasn’t patient enough to explain to a brick wall about players and simply explained in words she could understand.
He then told her the typical dialogue and interactions expected of a blacksmith NPC and the nature of missions she could issue. There were limitations to the rewards she could give, obviously. Small, petty missions, like fetching random items or completing simple chores, would yield around ten merit points, whereas more significant missions could offer up to a hundred.
Although Eleanor was now a “key NPC,” Victor didn’t want her to abuse her position, not that she would likely do that anyway. Still, this didn’t close the possibility of giving out weapons as rewards or increasing the given merit points for certain tasks in the future.
“Ooh!” She clapped her fingers subtly. “What an oddball of a system you have here. It makes me eager to see how it works in action!”
“Oddball, heh.” Somehow, Lizbeth smirked at Eleanor while saying that. “Just remember to work hard and be useful to the academy. I will definitely work you to your bone.”
“Promise me another hug, and I’ll work extra hard, Miss Lizbeth.” Elanor grinned at Lizbeth, her eyes shining in anticipation.
“Eek! No hugs!” She quickly hid behind Victor once more and stuck out her tongue at her. “Bleurgh!”
Victor was inwardly amused by this interaction, yet there was something that he had not yet addressed here. All things considered, he wasn’t sure what to provide her with in exchange. Money wouldn’t have much use when everything, like her basic needs, would be provided here for free, and he couldn’t justify offering nothing in return. This wasn’t a black company that exploited its employees, after all, even if Victor himself exploited the players.
But just when he was about to voice his thoughts on the matter, Eleanor spoke up first, her tone serious.
“Um, I need to confess something…”
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It had finally come to this — Eleanor had firmly reached a decision.
She had seen what this academy had to offer, the hidden potential it harbored, as well as the true nature of its headmaster and staff. She felt compelled to bite the bullet and jump on the ship. Staking it all here wasn’t the most brilliant idea, but her options were limited.
“Do you have something on your mind?” asked the blue-haired man sitting on the sofa diagonal from her. A pretty fairy only heard of in fairy tales was sitting on his shoulder, watching her quietly.
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“Mhm.” She steeled her heart in an attempt to gather her courage before admitting, “To be frank, I haven't been completely honest with you. Actually, I am an acolyte too, at the second stage of Initiate Attunement,” and held her posture firmly, her gaze firmly meeting his.
Contrary to her belief, the young man didn’t look as surprised as she had initially expected and stared at her with a hand on his chin. “Hrm, I already suspected there might be more to your story. But how have you managed to mask your mana?"
Typically, only official Magi possessed the skill to conceal their mana fluctuations to a certain degree. Acolytes, lacking such advanced proficiency, generally couldn’t achieve this feat, and Eleanor was no exception. However, she was an Artificer, and crafting magic tools had become her secondary nature.
“This is how.” She pulled her mantle-like sleeve and showed him a bracelet adorned with ruby-like stones on her right wrist. “It’s been necessary to conceal my identity, to protect myself from those targeting my family. For generations, we have been on the run before I ended up here…” She told him that her pops wasn't truly her biological father, but she was left there to be safe since she was a child, so not even the village head knew about this.
“Is this because of your Faulkner heritage?” The young man’s question was uttered slowly, encouraging her to continue.
“…Yes…” Eleanor hesitated for a moment before opening up about her lineage and the circumstances behind it.
The Faulkner family was once a prestigious and distinguished family of renowned masterful Artificers. Many Magus organizations around the world sought their expertise in creating magic tools and even world-altering magic artifacts. They had everything at their peak: boundless knowledge, immense wealth, and powerful connections.
Yet, their fortune turned when they touched the taboo that they shouldn’t have, triggering a curse that led to the demise of many of its members. To make matters worse, they were branded as heretics, accused of serving an outer god, and subsequently hunted by the very Magus organizations that once held them in high esteem.
Though these events unfolded ages ago and much of their history faded into obscurity, it was for a fact that the Faulkners remained a target to this day. Whether for their innate Artificer talents or their ancestral legacy, they continued to be hunted.
The man before her, however, appeared indifferent about that.
“So?” he asked nonchalantly.
Eleanor was speechless by his casual response and quickly pressed on, “Are you not afraid about potential repercussions from the kingdom or the Arcane Radiance College for harboring me?”
Even though the kingdom or the academy didn’t yet know her, this didn’t mean that it would last forever. The inherent risk of her presence being discovered was ever-present. Even more so when she didn’t make a conscious effort to cover it up.
“Why should I?” he said as if stating the matter-of-factly. “See, establishing an academy here is tantamount to declaring war toward the existing academies, especially the Arcane Radiance College. Plus, my goal isn’t merely occupying this territory; it is to become the best in the world— No, in the entire universe.”
Become the best in the entire universe?
The idea itself was laughable, but in the face of the man’s unwavering confidence, Eleanor found herself unable to muster even a hint of laughter. “Heh, that’s quite a tall order. It seems even more daunting than reviving my family’s name…”
“So what? So what if it is?” the man responded with undiminished confidence. “Everyone is entitled to their dreams. Even your aspiration to restore your family’s honor is valid and attainable with enough effort. Some might ridicule you, but I’m not one of them. Just because your ancestors didn’t achieve it doesn’t mean you can’t. As long as you follow me, I will ensure you reach your goal. That’s my responsibility as your sponsor— no, patron.”
In that moment, Eleanor felt fully awake as her heart rate picked up. This kind of awe-inspiring feeling had never appeared before, not even from the joy of creating her inventions. She then made a silent vow to herself. She would dedicate herself to aiding him, to help him become the strongest, thereby paving the way for the resurrection of the once prestigious Faulkner lineage.
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Listening to Eleanor’s recount of her family’s history, Victor was quite surprised. It finally clicked in his mind; no wonder the name Faulkner seemed to ring a bell. Even the Asteriscus Magus family had records of them, albeit not explicitly mentioning their name and the legacy they once had. Perhaps this kind of information was only available to larger Magus forces.
Still, being a second-stage Initiate Attunement acolyte meant she knew that Victor wasn’t an official Magus. While first-stage Initiate Attunement players wouldn’t be able to gauge his mana fluctuation due to still being new to the concept of mana, that wasn’t the case for her. Victor had managed to fool commoners because of their ignorance and inability to detect mana, but fooling a fellow acolyte was a different challenge altogether.
To win her trust and completely bring her under his fold, Victor shared his “ambitions” with her. As nonsensical as it was to him, at this point, he was already used to bullshitting the players, so what bullshitting a single person more could compare?
“You really are something else…” Eleanor chuckled, shaking her head with a wry smile. “Alright! I’ll commit to helping you then.”
“As well you should,” Lizbeth, still perched on his shoulder, chimed in with an unusual smugness in her tone.
“Mm, that’s good.” Victor nodded his head, inwardly praising himself for successfully fooling a local to help him in his cause. “Since you are an acolyte as well, you must have realized that I’m not yet an official Magus. Let’s keep that between us.” He put a finger on his mouth and looked outside. “These people may be my acolytes and subordinates, but it will cause an unnecessary uproar among them if they were to know.”
“Gotcha!” She responded with an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “But what’s your real name? ‘Astralium’ just doesn’t sit well for me.”
“Hey! You can’t just—”
“It’s Victor from the Asteriscus Magus family. You can call me Victor when it’s just us.” It was indeed a bit awkward to be called by his moniker now and then, and Victor preferred his own name overall when dealing with someone with equal status or close people he could trust.
“Argh! Why would you tell her?” Victor felt nonstop small jabs on his neck.
Ignoring her tantrum, Victor redirected the conversation. “Liz, why don’t you show Eleanor around and introduce her to her new workplace?”
“Oh, now you’re not ignoring me!” Lizbeth puffed her cheeks before suddenly widening her eyes in shock as she came to a realization. “Wait, you want me to be her guide?” She stared at Eleanor as if looking at a freak before turning back at him to give him the stink-eye.
“Yes. Try to get along with her and use this opportunity to brief her on the academy’s current situation and role among the players.” Victor used the term “players” freely because she wouldn’t understand it anyway.
Eleanor beamed at Lizbeth. “Please treat me well, Miss Lizbeth!”
Lizbeth let out a resigned sigh, her demeanor softening slightly. “Fine, fine. Just no hugs alright!” It appeared that hearing Eleanor’s story had made Lizbeth a bit more empathetic to her.