[V10C2] Intermediate Mage Hugo Galletti-kun and the Cool Mage

The Artillery Mage, Bradford Firestone, had one disciple. His name was Hugo Galletti, and he was an intermediate mage at the age of twenty-two.

Hugo was a young man of medium build with wavy brown hair tied at the back of his head. He hailed from the maritime nation of Alpatra.

Until just recently, he had been tracking the whereabouts of a ‘certain individual’ on Bradford’s orders. After finishing the investigation, he boarded a public carriage bound for the capital.

These types of public carriages had long seats on the sides, facing each other, and Hugo chose to sit at the far back of the carriage.

Hugo enjoyed sitting in a stylish posture with his legs crossed, but doing so would be dangerous with the carriage’s constant swaying. Having actually fallen a chair due to this habit, Hugo opted for a normal seated posture instead.

There was still some time before the carriage started moving, so Hugo reflected on the results of the investigation assigned by his master while playing with a strand of his bangs.

(That investigation… I initially thought it might take a while, but it ended up going pretty smoothly.)

The ‘certain individual’ who Hugo investigated was named Theodore Maxwell. His master Bradford had not disclosed the man’s crimes, as that was classified information.

That said, Hugo recognized the family name of Maxwell. He knew that Theodore was likely related to the former Sage, Carla Maxwell the Starspear Witch.

(It stands to reason that there was a conspiracy involving the former Sage…)

Bradford had said this when giving Hugo the mission to track Theodore’s movements: “Whatever you do, don’t go too deep. Taking that guy out is my responsibility…”

This meant Theodore was an extremely dangerous individual.

(And if my master is entrusting me with the investigation of a dangerous criminal… then he must have finally acknowledged my skills as a mage. No doubt about it.)

Hugo found himself almost smirking at the thought, but he quickly tightened his expression. After all, cool guys would never smile for such trivial reasons.

Eventually, the carriage began moving after a reasonable number of passengers filled the seats. Most of them appeared to be sailors or merchants from Sazandol. Hugo kept his distance from them, remaining at the back of the carriage and gazing out the window.

He was not looking at anything in particular; he just thought, “I must look so cool and capable by keeping an eye out for incoming threats.”

There was a common stereotype of Alpatran men being showoffs who were prone to mood swings, and Hugo matched this description perfectly.

“Excuse me, sir. Are you perhaps a mage?”

One of the passengers noticed Hugo’s robe and struck up a conversation.

He was a middle-aged man with sunburns, looking like a typical sailor. The man held a staff, but it was more like a walking stick than the mage staff in Hugo’s hands. Perhaps he suffered from a leg injury.

Hugo gave a brief glance to the middle-aged man, then closed his eyes and crossed his arms.

Why? Because that made him look super cool. With his eyes still shut, he replied in the coolest tone he could manage.

“…Yeah. Had to do a little job for my master.”

Hugo hoped that the man would inquire about his master. That way, he could reveal that studied under one of the Seven Sages.

Bringing up the subject himself would only make him look like a lame braggart, so the stance of answering only when asked was crucial.

However, the young man seated next to the middle-aged man seemed interested in a different subject.

“A job for a mage? Are you hunting dragons or something?”

“Nah.”

Hugo’s master was an expert in slaying dragons, and Hugo sometimes assisted him in doing so. That said, Hugo had never been very fond of combat. His role in dragon hunts was to cast defensive barriers and buy time for his master to chant.

Of course, it would be far too embarrassing to confess his distaste for combat, so Hugo deliberately gave a vague answer.

“Nothing to do with dragons, but it is an important investigation nonetheless… My master is a very busy man, so I had to take up the job in his stead.”

Hugo subtly made another reference to his master, hoping to catch their interest. And it seems that he succeeded.

“Who is this master of yours?” The middle-aged man inquired.

Hell yeah! Hugo secretly clenched his fists in triumph.

Then, after intentionally pausing for a breath to add suspense, Hugo uttered the name.

“…The Artillery Mage, Bradford Firestone.”

——Boom! You guys know him, right? Because he’s one of the most famous men in the country! Let’s hear those surprised reactions!

All according to Hugo’s plan, the passengers of the carriage began buzzing with excitement.

Ideally, Hugo would have liked to carefully savor the surprised faces of each, and revel in the glory. However, that would look pretty lame, so Hugo kept his eyes closed and his arms crossed.

Even so, he could sense their stares of astonishment and admiration, and it felt amazing.

(Yes, yes! Perfect! Hehehe…)

Hugo reveled in delight with his eyes still closed, so he missed the strange reaction of a certain individual.

The hooded man who sat across from him had flinched and audibly gulped. He appeared to be cradling something above his stomach, wrapping both hands around it to keep it firmly in place.

“Wow, a disciple of one of the Seven Sages,” the middle-aged man gasped.

“What a strange coincidence, right Father?” The man next to him followed.

The middle-aged man seemed to be the father of the man in his thirties seated next to him. They didn’t resemble each other very much, but judging by their sunburned skin and other features, both appeared to be working as sailors in Sazandol.

What did he mean by ‘strange coincidence’ though? Hugo gave the son a curious look, but the middle-aged man quickly scolded his son, causing him to go silent.

(Should I ask for more details? …No, I guess asking too many questions is pretty lame…)

One of the secrets to appearing cool was limiting how much you talk.

Hugo decided to reply with a succinct question, such as “What coincidence might that be?” Such a short and concise question would not be lame.

“What coincidence might… Fugyah!?” Hugo asked in a slightly gruff voice, before the carriage shook violently, causing him to bite his tongue.

He let out an incredibly lame sound, but no one paid him any mind as it was immediately overwritten by a scream from the coachman.

“Wyverns! There’s a flock of wyverns trailing us!”

While dragons were uncommon in this region, the occasional wyvern was known to wander in due to shifts in the air currents.

That said, an entire flock of them was practically unheard of. There were already five wyverns visible outside the window. If this was an unlucky coincidence, then someone aboard the carriage must have awful luck.

Hugo stared at the unbelievable sight in utter shock, as the sailor’s son shouted at him.

“Hey, you’re the disciple of a Sage, right?! Do something about this!”

“As if I could! Do you have any idea how hard it is to hit a dragon with offensive magic!? Especially a wyvern! There’s no way I can hit something flying around that fast! You’d have better luck throwing rocks at it!”

No longer able to maintain his composure, Hugo went on a rant.

That said, he was completely right. Casting offensive magic was more challenging than commonly believed, particularly when it came to flying targets rather than stationary ones. Wyverns complicated the issue further by being resistant to damage everywhere but the forehead.

Killing a dragon with an offensive spell aimed at the torso was a feat only possible by those with as much power as Hugo’s master, the Artillery Mage.

Given Hugo’s level of skill, he would be lucky to get one clean hit out of a hundred tries.

Seeing Hugo’s flustered response, the sailor’s son frowned and suggested, “Can’t you just use that reconnaissance magic thing? Doesn’t that let you land all your spells?”

“What nonsense!!”

Hugo did not know where the sailor had heard about reconnaissance magic, but it wasn’t even close to being a convenient trick to guarantee the accuracy of spells.

Moreover, casting an offensive spell while employing reconnaissance magic required a considerable amount of skill. This was a feat Hugo felt he might never achieve in his entire lifetime.

“If I could do that, I would have joined the Seven Sages already!”

The intermediate mage known as Hugo Galletti let out an anguished shout, as the wyverns flying above screeched in excitement. Apparently, they had just locked onto their prey.

The passengers flew into a state of panic and confusion. The horses were affected as well, bringing the carriage to a complete stop in the middle of the road.

Suddenly, the hooded man seated across from Hugo let out a pitiful scream and jumped out of the carriage.

Hugo couldn’t help but shout, “No, you idiot, don’t go outside! You’ll be a sitting duck!”

As expected, one of the wyverns circling above performed a dive onto the hooded man. It would either tear him apart with its sharp claws, or drag him into the sky in its mouth, then send him crashing to the ground.

Hugo froze at the sight of the man’s impending doom, before hearing a whoosh similar to a sharp gust of wind. The sound was too sharp to be from the wyvern’s massive body, so it seemed to come from something smaller and faster.

Hugo had heard a similar sound before, when a mage pushes flight magic to maximum speed.

In the next instant, someone interposed himself between the hooded man and the wyvern. He appeared to be a man in a robe, holding a staff.

(The staff of an advanced mage…?)

The average person might have thought, “Thank goodness, an advanced mage has come to save us!” but Hugo believed otherwise.

Magic required the use of incantations, so getting this close to a wyvern was a fatal mistake. Advanced mage or not, this distance allowed no time for a proper incantation.

But just as the wyvern’s claw was about to tear the mage apart, his staff sparked to life and began radiating light. Lightning had gathered at the tip of his staff, transforming it into a spear.

The mage manipulated his flight magic to twist his body and thrust out the spear of lightning. The acceleration of his flight magic combined with the momentum of his swing resulted in a perfectly timed strike to the wyvern’s forehead.

(A combination of flight magic and martial arts…!? Could he be from the Magic Corps!?)

After pulling out his spear of lightning, the mage flew higher up and started doing the same thing to the other wyverns.

His skill with flight magic was just ridiculous. Hugo knew how difficult it was to combine other spells with flight, and the mage made it look simple while also integrating spearmanship at the same time.

He closed in on the wyverns like a bolt of lightning and slew them just as fast with his spear. This fighting style was completely alien to the average mage.

Before Hugo knew it, the mage had already stabbed the forehead of the fourth wyvern. The last one, which had been observing from higher above, finally realized that it had picked the wrong opponent and attempted to flee.

“…Not so fast,” the mage uttered in a low, chilling tone filled with hatred. “All dragons must die… no exceptions. Dragon capture spell, activate.”

The man deactivated his flight magic and descended to the ground while maintaining the spear of lightning. There, he chanted his next spell.

Thin threads of lightning spread overhead like a net, entangling the wyvern.

Wyverns were able to shrug off the lightning of a normal binding spell with their high magic resistance. However, this spell seemed to be using some sort of trick. The lightning stuck to the wyvern persistently, hindering its escape.

The mage took a step back, raising the staff-turned-spear overhead.

(Whoa, seriously?)

Hugo was left speechless.

After displaying such advanced magic, the finishing blow was going to be a javelin toss.

(Isn’t that a bit too primitive? At least use a spell!)

The mage grunted and threw his spear at the wyvern.

Hugo thought it would be extremely cool if it hit. And it did.

His staff arced gracefully through the air, and the tip of the lightning blade pierced the wyvern right on its forehead.

As the last wyvern fell to the earth, the carriage passengers who had been watching with bated breath erupted into cheers. Hugo was among them.

(H-He’s just too cool…! What was that? So freaking cool!)

The mage pulled his staff from the fallen wyvern’s forehead and approached the carriage. The coachman tearfully expressed his gratitude, but the mage simply shook his head, saying, “No need for thanks.”

Now that he got a closer look, Hugo found the mage to be a decently tall man, though not as tall as his master Bradford. He appeared to be around thirty, with blondish hair and sharp eyes. Everything about him radiated the aura of a veteran warrior.

After offering many thanks, the coachman asked for the mage’s name.

The mage rested his staff on his shoulder and introduced himself in a casual tone.

“…Silas… Silas Page.”

That phrasing sounded so incredibly cool. Hugo secretly decided he would imitate it the next time he introduced himself.

＊　＊　＊

The hooded man who ran from the carriage collapsed into the shade of a tree.

“T-This place is way too scary… Why did it turn out like this…? Just sharing a carriage with a disciple of the Seven Sages is unlucky enough, then some other dangerous guy shows up… I wonder if I can reach the capital in one piece… Ugh, I’m losing confidence… sniff.”

After letting out a series of complaints, the man rolled up his shirt and took out the black box he had concealed above his stomach.

He gently stroked the gemstones decorating the box, as if comforting a child.

“I’ll do my best, so wait just a little longer… I’ve got my eye on the remaining two mages who sealed you away.”

Hugo Galletti’s home country of Alpatra is also where Clifford went for school. (Mentioned in the letter in Gaiden V4C1)

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