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"Yes, that's me. A pleasure to meet you, young fellow." Kischur grinned, a cheerful smile appearing on his aged face.
The mages, with the exception of Haru, felt their hearts clench.
Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg—the super-monster known by titles such as Wizard Marshal, Jewel Mage, and Kaleidoscope.
Wielding the Second Magic, which allowed him to travel freely between parallel worlds, this undying old geezer roamed the various timelines. The probability of encountering this ancient being in any given parallel world was infinitesimally small.
Yes, undying old geezer...
That's what these mages called Kischur.
As one of the Type-Moon world's strongest combatants, he frequently meddled in mortal affairs, stirring up conflict and disaster. In the minds of mages, he was practically a walking natural catastrophe.
Meeting him meant trouble—that was the common consensus among all who knew of Kischur's existence. And now, this trouble-maker had appeared here.
The elder Barthomeloi felt a sense of foreboding; the prospects for these negotiations looked bleak.
"Remarkably young, aren't you? To reach the level of a True Magic User at your age—truly terrifying talent," Kischur said, sizing up Haru's face with interest.
"You came all this way just to meet me?" Haru's lips curved upwards, a teasing glint in his eyes.
"Ah, that's right. I heard about you, and I was curious about a True Magic User who has mastered several Laws, so I came," Kischur said, grinning broadly, his expression frank.
'Liar. If you just wanted to meet him, why pick this particular time?' Such thoughts flashed through the minds of all the mages present.
"So, does this mean you won't be interfering in these talks?" Haru narrowed his eyes slightly, his tone flat.
"Indeed. As far as this meeting is concerned, I am merely a spectator," Kischur nodded, turning his gaze to the mages on either side. "You all continue, continue. Don't mind me."
Haru squinted, looking at Kischur with keen interest, his gaze like that of a chef eyeing a side of pork on the cutting board.
To be honest, if Kischur's Second Magic didn't allow him to escape to a parallel world in an instant, Haru would have already drawn his butcher's knife and lopped off a part of his body.
After all, with just a piece of this old geezer Kischur's body, Haru could deduce the complete Second Magic. That was an exceptionally profitable exchange.
Sensing Haru's strange gaze, Kischur frowned, looking at Haru with bewilderment. He was sure this was their first meeting. Why was Haru looking at him with such a dangerous expression?
Kischur was utterly baffled.
An incredibly strange atmosphere emanated from the two, who were now locked in a silent standoff, enveloping the not-so-small classroom.
"..." The scene instantly fell silent. Large beads of sweat continuously dripped from the foreheads of the seated mages, trickling down their cheeks. Their eyes were filled with terror.
The silent confrontation between two True Magic Users, an atmosphere pregnant with the possibility of imminent battle—the pressure was simply too much for the mages present.
One was the True Magic User, wielding divine power.
The other was a super-undying geezer who, in his prime, had single-handedly defeated a careless Crimson Moon.
If these two were to fight, they would be obliterated by the aftershocks in an instant.
After a long moment, the elder Barthomeloi cleared his throat twice and said, his voice grave, "Since the Jewel Mage has spoken, let's cut to the chase and get straight to the agenda. What say you all?"
Everyone nodded like chickens pecking at grain.
Dragging this out wasn't a solution. Since Kischur had said he wouldn't interfere in the talks, ending the conversation quickly and retreating was their most pressing desire.
As for those lengthy discussions they had planned earlier? They could forget about those now. They still wanted to live for a few more centuries.
The elder Barthomeloi exchanged glances with Peter and Gravera, then addressed Haru. "Your Excellency Haru, the purpose of this meeting, from the Mage's Association's perspective, is to ascertain your intentions."
"To be precise, the intentions of the Holy Church, which you lead," Gravera added, then looked at Haru with a solemn expression.
"You're afraid?" Haru surveyed the mages on either side, looking at their sweat-slicked faces, and chuckled lightly.
The elder Barthomeloi's brow furrowed slightly, then he quickly calmed himself and nodded, his expression impassive.
"Rest assured, initiating a war serves me no great purpose," Haru said, pursing his lips, his tone dismissive.
His goal was merely to collect the special rules of the Type-Moon world. And the mages present were all 'Scientists' who had dedicated their lives to pursuing the Root. The conclusions drawn from their various research endeavors were essentially partial manifestations of the Type-Moon world's rules.
If mages were sheep, Haru's target was the added value produced by these sheep—the continuously generated wool.
For him, the more mages, the better. The more sheep, the more Haru would obtain. As for starting a war, slaughtering all the sheep, and taking all the wool at once? Such a self-destructive act—killing the goose that lays the golden eggs—no rational person would do such a thing.
"Then, do you mean to say you agree to these peace talks?" The elder Barthomeloi's expression relaxed slightly, his voice low.
The faces of the mages present all brightened a little, but until they received a final answer, they dared not lower their guard against Haru in the slightest. With the exception of Kayneth, everyone present watched Haru with wary expressions.
Haru slowly nodded, his tone flat. "I agree to peace talks. But correspondingly, the Mage's Association must also show its honesty, no?"
"Your meaning is?" A sense of foreboding welled up in Gravera's heart.
Haru's lips curved upwards. He glanced around at the wary faces and chuckled softly.
"Let's have an academic exchange."
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