Chapter 97: Is the Great Tesla Mage a Fraud?

The knight who served as both messenger and herald remained stationed in the capital of Cervantes, as Rain was the last hope for his country. He wouldn’t leave until he had an answer and didn’t even consider seeking help from the Cervantes Palace—it was far too late for that.

Downs and Harry had already been called back to Rain’s side.

Seeing Sanders kneeling miserably, explaining the situation’s details, and then shown the letter sent by the other party, the two disciples quickly realized they had gotten their master into trouble through idle chatter and gossip.

They were so frightened they both dropped to their knees, not daring to breathe.

For some reason, though, they both glanced up secretly at their master.

They were nervous, excited, and curious.

After all, this was a legend their master had personally mentioned—the queens and princesses from various kingdoms competing for his favor.

What must he have felt at the time? They could only guess.

As non-nobles, this kind of honor was almost unimaginable for them.

And today, right before their eyes, their master might just recreate this scene. How could they not look forward to it?

Rain felt a chill run down his spine.

The past was unpredictable!

A moment of braggadocio to save face before his disciples had ended up backfiring on him.

Who could have guessed this embarrassing predicament would happen again?

Rain found himself laughing at his own misfortune.

Of course, the blame had to fall squarely on his disciples.

Smack!

The stack of parchment in the pink envelope slapped down on the ground between the two disciples, making them both flinch.

Rain, hands behind his back, eyes as sharp as lightning (literally), glared at them, his gaze brimming with anger, and all three knelt silently.

“Have you ever heard of a recorder?” he asked.

“No…” the three replied in unison.

“A recorder follows the king or emperor and documents their every word and deed,” Rain’s voice grew heavier. “Do you know why there are recorders? Because every word and action of a ruler, even a casual jest, can affect the lives of thousands, even millions.”

At this, the three disciples lowered their heads even further, admitting their fault.

Rain unleashed his full fury, berating them:

“What I did in the past is my business. I’ve never taken the letters of noblewomen as leverage for any action. Now the Duchy of Marino has taken it seriously, placing a hundred thousand lives on this baseless promise. If I don’t intervene, are you ready to take responsibility for those lives?”

“No! You can’t bear that responsibility!”

“You aren’t ordinary people. As top-tier extraordinaries, you have to shoulder extraordinary responsibilities! Acting recklessly will only push you toward the chaotic side. And anyone who makes empty promises has no place as my disciple!”

Rain’s outburst left them all hanging their heads.

When his anger finally subsided, Downs hesitantly spoke up, “So, Master, about this matter…”

“Hmph! As long as I am your master, I’ll take responsibility if anything happens!”

Downs and Harry were both shocked and thrilled.

But Rain’s next words deflated them completely: “However, your punishment will depend on how this turns out.”

“Ah!”

Ignoring his disciples’ reactions, Rain ordered, “Downs, get ready and leave in ten minutes. I want you to accompany the envoy to Marino’s capital and say this to the Grand Duchess…”

Meanwhile, on the Cervantes side, the Marino messenger was under intense psychological strain.

His homeland was being ravaged by the undead.

The Grand Duchess herself was leading her people in a desperate fight to the death.

The pink letter she had written in a final, all-out plea seemed to have vanished without a trace. And just then, the people of the Cervantes capital were already discussing the fate that awaited Marino’s Grand Duchess.

“I bet a silver coin that Master Tesla won’t make it in time. That place is probably an undead kingdom by now.”

“I heard the Grand Duchess is quite beautiful. What a pity.”

The messenger didn’t dare react—not that he could even if he wanted to.

After what felt like endless torment, he finally received a reply.

Just as he had once shaken all of Rammane when his mage’s gaze had appeared above the barren lands of the old Mage Tower, Rain’s eyes now hovered in the sky, dark and enigmatic, inciting an uproar in the crowd.

Those deep, mysterious black eyes fixed on the messenger, and Rain’s vast, imposing voice echoed from the heavens.

“There’s a rumor that I’ll only act after receiving a pink letter from a princess or queen. Let me clarify—this is a complete fabrication.”

These words hit the messenger like a bucket of ice water.

No, in that moment, he almost wished that absurd condition were true.

The brilliance of the word “but” lay in what came after.

“But that ridiculous rumor came from the loose tongue of my disciple Downs. I will punish him for it in due time. However, I, Tesla, will accept Marino’s call for aid!”

At those words, half the capital erupted.

No, the Great Mage hadn’t caused this mess at all—yet he was willing to take the blame for his disciple?

The messenger’s head swam with exhilaration as he dropped to his knees. “Your mercy lights up all of Marino, O Great Mage!”

“Don’t celebrate just yet!” Rain said sharply. “I only agreed to help; I never promised success. If this involves the incarnations of the gods, then Marino’s fate is beyond my control. Also, once the matter is settled, I will expect your Grand Duchess to uphold her end of the bargain, and all materials I expend must be reimbursed. If you dare default, I will personally destroy your duchy.”

“Yes! Understood, no problem!” The messenger responded in stunned awe, asking, “When shall we depart…”

The portal flared open, and Downs, leading a rainbow-colored steed, stepped out with a scowl. “Now.”

…

Meanwhile, in the lands of Marino, the sun was beginning to set.

From the villages around Marino City came sporadic screams, the sound of earth scraping in the cemeteries, and the eerie, monotonous shuffling of footsteps.

Rows of undead sorcerers in robes were driving newly raised undead toward the capital.

The number of low-level undead each necromancer could control was limited. However, by issuing a simple directive, such as to walk in a specific direction and tear apart anything alive along the way, the number they could manage increased drastically, reaching hundreds or even thousands depending on their strength.

Compared to the intensity within Marino City, the scene here was haunting.

One necromancer approached a high slope outside the city, near the figure encircled by death knights. He noticed that his master, extending a pale bone-clawed hand from within his robe, was now wearing the Marino Duke’s ring. The Duke’s Crown of the Mountain was also perched atop his head.

The once golden crown, now dulled by dark energy, had its distinct mountain emblem morphed into a grinning skull.

And the new staff carried by the lich had been crafted from the skull and spine of the former Duke of Marino, Alain.

“Lord Brutus! My informant reports that Sophia Marino, in accordance with that rumor, has sent out a pink letter to enlist the help of the legendary mage Tesla.”

Brutus sneered, a wisp of ghostly vapor puffing from his decayed nasal cavity. “This so-called Great Mage Tesla must be a fraud.”

“Huh?”

“Acting on behalf of a woman, rather than for the secrets of magic, for power, or for gain? Hmph! There is no such mage in existence!”

If a certain master had overheard this, he would have protested in dismay—No, I’m doing this for pride! For the dignity of a master before his disciples! Please, believe me!