I Stole The Duke - Chapter 125

What kind of relationship does he have with the Master? Is he really from a commoner background?

Who would even think to bring their own table and chair into a subspace? That pink-haired guy actually did it. It was clear he had more experience aboard ships than any of the other mages here. And despite claiming to be a commoner, just look at the way he gracefully handles his fork. That’s the elegance of a properly educated noble, no doubt about it.

“Why have you been watching me for days now?”

Unable to ignore the blatant stares any longer, Karahan finally addressed Legionty.

That old man-like way of speaking… suspicious, as expected.

No matter what, Legionty wanted to surpass that shady pink-haired man and become the Master’s true right hand.

“I was just… jealous of your table.”

The words slipped out before he could stop himself—an excuse so ridiculous that even he flinched.

“That’s an obvious lie, kid.”

The pink-haired man’s old-fashioned tone and casual way of talking down to others seemed weirdly natural for him.

“What’s your relationship with the Master?”

Legionty couldn’t hold back anymore and finally asked. From being personally recommended by the Master to get into the Mage Tower, to getting aboard this ship without a single published paper—everything about him reeked of favoritism.

Was the truth finally going to come out?

It was only natural that all the mages scattered across the deck suddenly perked up, ears tuned in.

“Hmm…”

With all eyes on him, the pink-haired man let out a vague, meaningless sigh instead of an answer.

“…So, it is a secret, then?”

Legionty gave up waiting and muttered in disappointment.

“I have no obligation to explain myself to you.”

Karahan calmly lifted his teacup.

“Everyone’s already suspicious, you know. You’re clearly the Master’s disciple, aren’t you?!”

Despite the blatant favoritism, no one dared treat this pink-haired man lightly—and that was exactly why.

“Pfft!”

Karahan, who had been casually sipping his peppermint tea, spat it out laughing.

Bullseye.

Legionty now felt sure of it. During the crucial thesis review period, the Master had only visited one person’s lab in person—this guy. Rumor had it they even met several times in a single day.

“That’s what I really wanted to ask. I want to learn from the Master too. Could you please tell me how to get close to him?”

The first step to becoming the Master’s right hand… was becoming his disciple.

“Ha…”

It was rare to see Karahan caught off guard. He quietly wiped the tea from his lips with a napkin.

“Hahaha! So, this is where you were all eating!”

Oh no. The mages’ faces fell in unison.

“Haha! What a great day—smooth winds, clear skies! Is the food to your liking? Please, let me know if anything’s uncomfortable!”

That cheerful voice belonged to none other than the talkative captain of the ship.

“No issues here! I’ve finished eating, so I’ll take my leave!”

Nearly half the mages shoved their leftover bread into their mouths and bolted like a stampede.

Damn it.

The loud captain had once again handed off command to the vice-captain and started wandering the ship.

“Def.”

Those who still had food left cast a tearful look at their plates—and quietly cast a self-imposed deafness spell on themselves.

“Ah, seeing the cloudless sky reminds me of a story about my great-great-grandfather, Speaker…”

The captain—nicknamed “Speaker”—was revving up for one of his endless stories.

“Control Sound.”

“Now, the year was 220 years ago—on a day just like today, not a cloud in sight…”

Karahan sighed softly and snapped his fingers in Speaker’s direction.

“Ooh.”

Legionty watched in awe. The captain’s voice had now been magically limited to a 50cm radius.

“….”

The man would keep talking, unaware his audience had vanished. If someone wandered too close, they’d still suffer, but overall, it was a smart solution.

Judging by that response time, he’s at least an advanced-level mage.

Clearly, he hadn’t become the Master’s favored disciple by luck alone.

Bzzt—

Just as Legionty nodded politely, pretending to listen to the captain’s speech while chewing his bread, he felt a faint vibration from inside his robe. It was his magical communicator, which he’d kept on vibrate just in case.

“What is it?”

[Finally! Finally! Legionty, are you there? Is the connection working?!]

As soon as he activated the communicator, a Mage Tower official’s voice blasted through.

“It’s working. What’s the emergency?”

[We’ve been trying to reach someone since yesterday, but we haven’t been able to get through to anyone!]

Most likely, the other mages had either stuffed their communicators into subspace storage or forgotten to turn on vibrate mode.

“Did something happen at the Mage Tower?”

[Is the Master with you, by any chance?]

“There’s no way he’s here.”

The Master had seen the group off at the port and left them there.

[The Master hasn’t returned to the Mage Tower!]

The Mage Tower clerk practically screamed into the communicator in response to Legionty’s reply.

“…What?”

[Since the ship set sail, the Master hasn’t come back to the tower—not even once!]

Hmm…

Michalis drained the rest of his peppermint tea, staring quietly at the communicator. The voice was loud enough for others to hear, and more importantly, the content was too serious to ignore.

[And… whenever we try to go pick him up, he changes locations and keeps running away!]

So, he’s skipping work now that I’m gone?

Being stuck in the Mage Tower after wandering freely for so long must’ve felt suffocating. Especially after spending nearly a full month buried in study.

“The Master… ran away?”

[Yes! And as of yesterday, we’ve completely lost track of him. Please use a tracking spell and tell us his current location. As you know, the staff we have left right now is—oh, wait! Master?!]

“What is it?”

[Never mind! The Master has just returned! We’ll end the call here, Sir Legionty.]

The clerk, who had sounded like they were on the verge of tears just moments ago, now spoke with obvious relief.

“Understood.”

So, the Master had returned to the tower. Legionty let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The Master had probably just taken a short break—as he sometimes did when he became too unpredictable to manage.

“……”

Michalis had been about to activate a tracking spell, but decided against it and rose from his chair.

It’s been nearly a week, and not even a single message from him.

Then again, the man usually kept his communicator stuffed in subspace and only pulled it out when he needed something. No news was usually good news.

“Master! Where on earth have you been?!”

The clerk, tears welling in their eyes, ran to the Tower Lord as he arrived.

“Just took a little vacation. What, am I not allowed?”

The Tower Lord slumped into a chair with a tired look on his face—he had just returned from a self-declared five-night, six-day holiday.

“That’s not it, but… if you’d told us in advance, we wouldn’t have worried so much.”

Not that they were worried about the Master’s safety. They were more concerned about the tower’s paperwork, which was now stacked almost to the ceiling.

“Master, and… who is this?”

The clerk eyed the man the Tower Lord had brought with him via teleportation. It was rare for anyone outside the Tower to be allowed into the upper levels—unless they shared a special relationship.

“He’s a freelance knight I hired during my vacation.”

“…I see.”

It was clearly no ordinary relationship.

“You’re in the way. Out.”

“Master, this is really urgent. Just a signature, and I’ll be gone!”

The clerk quickly placed a single document on the desk and pleaded.

“Fine, hand it over.”

With a dramatic sigh, the Tower Lord picked up a random pen from the holder and slowly scribbled his signature.

“Thank you, Master! Call me anytime!”

Clutching the signed document, the clerk quickly retreated. The Master seemed to be in a decent mood now, but lingering too long next to the stormy Tower Lord was never a good idea. The sooner you escaped, the safer you were.

“Whew…”

Disguised as an ordinary knight, Iadis—his glasses off and demeanor subdued—let out a soft sigh.

“This expression… yeah, that’s exactly the kind of look he always had.”

Michalis stood in front of the desk mirror, mimicking a series of expressions. They were dramatic, exaggerated—and somehow perfect.

“And when he was bored, he’d always do this.”

Michalis dropped his forehead onto the desk with a thump. His green hair spread out like moss across the surface.

“I know what he looks like when he’s anxious.”

Iadis flopped onto the sofa, spreading his legs and bouncing his feet restlessly.

“Spot on. For signatures, I’ll give you a sample. Most important contracts used magical signatures, but for everyday paperwork, he used ancient script. You should be fine.”

Michalis grabbed the top document from a towering stack and signed it. He still wasn’t used to Olive’s signature, so he was basically drawing it from memory—it felt more like sketching than writing.

“I think I’ll get used to this with a bit of practice.”

Iadis took the sample, peeled off about half of the documents from the pile, and placed them on the sofa’s side table. He started practicing the signature immediately.

“……”

Michalis leaned back into the chair, slowly studying his reflection in the mirror as the sound of pen strokes from the sofa grew faster and more confident.

“Your Excellency, how should I handle Tower business?”

Iadis’s pen paused mid-signature. If his lord wished it, he could tear the entire Mage Tower apart in a month.

“I’ll leave it to your judgment.”

The core goal of this mission wasn’t to create chaos—it was to prevent tracking spells from locating the real Tower Lord.

“…Understood.”

“Is there something bothering you?”

“It’s not just one thing. There’s nothing about this that I’m okay with.”

Iadis shook his head, giving his honest opinion.

“Then just act like you really are the Tower Lord. Handle everything your way.”

Even as Michalis spoke, his eyes drifted to a pile of documents that had been marked “rejected” and shoved to the corner of the table.

“Then I’ll set the direction accordingly.”

Iadis resolved himself. He would become the most diligent, hard-working “One-Month Tower Lord” the Mage Tower had ever seen. Half-hearted work just wasn’t in his nature anyway.

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