# Enhanced Translation
## CRITICAL: ZERO HANJA TOLERANCE - IMMEDIATE FAILURE IF VIOLATED
General Designation
Life School, internally known as the Elgaladion Magic School, and colloquially known as the 'Black Mages.'
The World
While magical energy exists in all things, mages can only access a mere handful of what floats in the atmosphere—this realization led to a paradigm shift.
Extracting magical energy from mountains, trees, rocks, and other inanimate objects proved highly inefficient, so they began researching how to extract it from living beings instead.
Within less than two hundred years, they established bio-magical energy generation technology. Before three hundred more years passed, they completed the foundational techniques. After four wars, they finally established their school.
Now, they possess "eco-friendly, sustainable resource production technology" that can extract magical energy by grinding souls to pieces from any living being, regardless of race.
The leader of these terrifying individuals spoke with sunken eyes in a dark, secluded room.
"We're not doing anything like that, I tell you!"
It sounds like an economic criminal pleading to a prosecutor in an interrogation room.
For reference, he is indeed an economic criminal, Ivan is technically a (temporary) (interim) prosecutor, and they are indeed in a secluded room.
Ivan pressed his brow and glared at the grand mage before him.
"Oh my, this is so unfair, really!"
The old man, who must be over five hundred years old, grumbled with forced aegyo.
This was the moment when Ivan's hypothesis bore fruit—the theory that elves are not immune to the effects of dementia.
Elves have sharp ears. Both physically and politically.
It took less than half a day for Ivan's name to spread throughout elven society. When a crazy human who caused a scene in the middle of the street receives protection from the Shadow Sword, it's impossible for word not to get around.
"Looks like those madmen are up to something crazy again."
That was the general assessment. Shortly after the rumor spread, when word got out that this "crazy human" had a private audience with the Queen, the elves hastily gathered information.
"So the Queen was behind this?"
All elves eventually turn into trees when they grow old. From that perspective, the Queen was literally a plant-human. She was an old lady in the back room waiting for her appointed day of death.
There are several disconcerting things that can happen in the world. Notable examples include resurrecting at a funeral, winning rock-paper-scissors against a mirror, or plants walking around and engaging in political activities.
All three are possible in this primitive society, which makes them even more terrifying.
Therefore, the elven privy councilors and their subordinate nobles quickly deployed their information networks. The problem here is that elves are experts in foreign intelligence.
In the realm of domestic intelligence, elves aren't particularly impressive. If intelligence targets are limited to their own kind, their specialties of "surprising (backstabbing)" and "befriending (mind control)" are blocked. This was proven throughout their long history.
So after collecting fragmented and unreliable information (passed on by their own kind, thus untrustworthy), the elven nobles finally found a connection to the incident from a few days ago.
"The internal conflict in the Alchemy School was the Queen's behind-the-scenes work??"
Each privy councilor is like a nation unto themselves. Both in the realm of history and influence.
Such individuals may occasionally form alliances, but they cannot demonstrate "cooperative governance" in the true sense. Therefore, elves don't engage in factional disputes. Each is responsible for their own academy, making them a faction in themselves.
This means,
"Who is it?"
Elven privy councilors never trust each other, and...
"Who's using the aging Queen as a shield for their schemes?"
It's such an efficient scheme that I might have done it myself if given the opportunity.
So those fellows would definitely have done it if given the chance.
Because the Queen wouldn't suddenly pick a fight with the Privy Council on her own.
Under this common-sense reasoning, the privy councilors quietly began growling at each other.
"Tell me quickly. Let's work together."
The entrepreneurs, who clearly understood that reducing competitors is a market principle and that monopoly is the most perfect economic system, began to move.
Of course.
"We've arrived."
At this point, Ivan, who had arrived at the island of Iberenden ruled by the Life School, doesn't share the elves' common sense.
He was an extremely rational and sensible person. By 21st century standards, that is. As the saying goes, in a village of one-eyed people, the person with two eyes is considered disabled, so in this world, he is viewed with somewhat biased perspectives.
Of course, it doesn't matter.
A disabled person must prove themselves. Just like a disability certificate. But a normal person doesn't need to prove they're normal. They just need to act.
Thus, the only normal person in this pre-modern fantasy world disembarked with an axe and a pistol in hand.
The most appropriate tools for chopping trees, indeed.
"..."
After properly arming himself, bringing along the Queen's inspection documents, accompanied by royal guards assigned by the Queen, and with his entourage in tow, he finally landed at the port of Iberenden.
"Oh my, welcome!! You must be tired from your long journey?! Here, this is our academy's specialty product, excellent for fatigue recovery. Ah, it's safe for humans to consume! We've tested it!"
The black mages were waiting, waving large placards.
"What... is this...?"
Lucia looked around in confusion. Numerous elves were warmly smiling, throwing flower petals at them, setting off small fireworks, and a military band was playing music.
The man at the forefront strode forward, firmly grasped Ivan's hand, and shook it a couple of times. It was too warm to be a handshake, and too modest a gesture to indicate any political stance.
"I'm Wildrick Sunsetdale. Hehe, I humbly serve as the chairman of the Elgaladion Academy."
"Hmm."
"You are Sir Ivan Petrovich Yeremov, correct? We've been waiting for you."
Ivan is not a person who gets easily flustered. Like all Annihilation Squad members.
But under the combination of the three words 'elf,' 'welcome,' and 'crowd,' even Ivan's eyes wavered helplessly.
It's strange enough for elves to welcome someone, but even more so that they've gathered in such large numbers.
Misunderstanding Ivan's silence, Wildrick wiped the sweat from his forehead and released his hand.
"Hehe, you must still be tired from your journey. Let's... skip some of the ceremony? Shall we have a meal first?"
So there was a ceremony planned.
For reference, Iberenden was only a two-day journey from Idranhill, the capital of Kalion. There wasn't even time for travel fatigue to accumulate. Since the massive warship moved on its own, all they had to do was rest in their cabins.
Ivan nodded stiffly. Finally, a smile appeared on Wildrick's face. It was so artificial that it seemed even more suspicious.
"Come on, everyone disperse! Miller!! Escort our guests to the banquet hall!"
"Yes, Headmaster!!"
A group of elves approached, took the luggage of Ivan and his party, and before they could react, they were escorted to the banquet hall.
Despite tasting all the tea and food first and detecting no poison, Ivan, unlike his companions, didn't touch any more food.
In enemy territory, meals should be taken in shifts. This prevents the entire group from being incapacitated if some toxin renders some members powerless.
When Ivan only drank water without eating, Wildrick wiped his cold sweat again, approached, and whispered.
"Shall we move to a quieter place?"
"Hmm."
Leaving behind his companions who were enjoying their meal, Ivan followed Wildrick somewhere. As he walked, mentally mapping the structure of this castle, the atmosphere suddenly changed.
The entrepreneur who had been acting like he would give up his liver and gallbladder slowly straightened his back. The expensive magical lamps embedded in the corridor gradually dimmed.
The light faded on the spotless carpet. The artwork hanging on the walls changed from paintings to sculptures, and from sculptures to taxidermy.
After walking down such a corridor for quite some time, they arrived at a small secluded room lit by candles.
By that point, Ivan was already gripping his axe.
"Please enter."
The leader of the black mages smiled ominously. Without answering, Ivan scanned the interior of the room. It was a room with small taxidermy specimens and threatening magical instruments decorated with brass and the like hanging on the walls.
The candles flickered with a green light.
A torture chamber? Or an interrogation room? Whatever it is, they're being cute about it.
Ivan slowly moved forward, paying attention to the flow of magical energy. Ready to bring down his axe at the slightest change in magical energy.
When he finally reached a small but sufficiently luxurious sofa, the leader of the black mages showed a dim smile and offered him a seat.
"Isn't it magnificent?"
"...What?"
"This is my treasure vault. Each item here is historic— Ah, excuse me. From your country's perspective, they would be 'mythical' artifacts. My predecessors, that is, the various headmasters of this academy, personally crafted and collected them. Yes, this place is the history of our academy."
Hmm. It's difficult to follow his story.
Observing Ivan's expression, the black mage quickly noticed the axe firmly gripped in his hand and hastily wiped his forehead.
"Uh, well, these are very delicate magical instruments. They're irreplaceable originals. So if possible... um, with all due respect, we can provide you with plenty of space to indulge in destructive hobbies elsewhere..."
The leader of the black mages had instantly reverted to the humble Wildrick.
"Hehe, since we have no eyes watching or ears listening, how about we have a candid and sincere time to narrow our misunderstandings and differences of opinion?"
The Queen is a vegetative human. The power in Kalion lies with the privy councilors, and that fact is already well-known.
Therefore, even though the privy councilor before him was rubbing his hands together and smiling brightly, Ivan could only maintain his silence.
It was difficult to believe that the Queen's order had inspired fear or respect in this person. They were the kind who would dismiss such pieces of paper if they wished.
So there must be another reason...
"As you know, we're all trying to get along well with each other, working hard in every way possible, materially and spiritually."
"..."
"But suddenly creating factions like this, and threatening to use force against us without any prior notice is a bit... disappointing, shall we say? Hehe."
Ah.
Not the Queen, but factions.
He suspects that the privy councilors have joined hands to form an organization and are purging the opposition.
To the extent that they're operating under the pretext of the Queen, the organization has already grown to a sufficient size.
And in such a situation, he's worried that a sudden raid could uproot the school that has existed for ages.
Hmm. This is not bad.
Ivan quietly interlocked his fingers. Without answering, he stared into Wildrick's eyes for a long time.
The best way to extract information from a frightened person is to maintain silence. Fear brings forth quite a lot of imagination.
Whether he had a rich imagination or not, Wildrick wiped his forehead again and continued.
"We were clearly following Grikenkos' advice. There were a few minor issues, but well... let's say they're in the realm of 'not a problem if we don't make it one.' Haha."
"Advice, you say."
"Yes, yes. Oh, I heard about the Alchemy School incident. Wow, really impressive. You cleaned out a company quite neatly. I was so impressed when I heard about it. As expected of Grikenkos."
"You don't mention that you used monsters to sabotage the Alchemy School."
"Pardon?"
Wildrick blinked, wiped his forehead briefly, tilted his head, and then blinked again.
He soon continued in a stammering voice.
"Excuse me? Monsters?"
"Hmm."
"The Alchemy School? They did that? Huh, really, those rotten ones. The shadier ones always act like that. Who else works as cleanly as we do? This is so unfair!"
This doesn't seem like an act.
As Ivan narrowed his eyes, Wildrick beat his chest and said.
"It's a misunderstanding, I tell you! I knew they were messing around with the Milestones, but we're not free enough to do anything to them!"
"Milestones, you say."
"Ah, yes, yes, hehe. Well, as expected of Grikenkos. It really worked."
"What worked?"
"Converting holy power through soul condensation! Using the filtering mechanism of the Milestones! Just like the human— I mean, human priests do, now we too can do all sorts of things!"
As if trying to prove his usefulness, he rubbed his hands together and said sinisterly.
"I'm really curious how you knew about such things... Yes, yes. If you need anything, feel free to tell us. Please convey that to Grikenkos."
So, the reason each company is now tampering with the Milestones.
It's not just a casual attempt like 'just this one won't hurt.'
It means Beolgrin has been actively encouraging it...?
"What happens if the Milestones shut down, you ask?"
"Hmm."
"Well, it's hard to say exactly since they've never shut down before. Simply put, I suppose the atmospheric environment would change, magical energy would decrease, things like that?"
Elfihera tilted her head with a troubled expression.
"And if we dig a bit deeper... hmm."
"When were the Milestones first created?"
"During the mythical age. These are truly ancient artifacts."
A massive rectangular pillar, with dark green spells densely embedded on all sides, swirling with overwhelming magical energy.
It looked like a stake driven into the ground.
Elfihera gestured toward the Milestone from a distance and said.
"If we delve into legends... Yes, according to legend, Kalion was actually made up of 42 islands. Of course, these are old tales never recorded in history. You know, like how among humans, the founding ancestors are said to be descendants of dragons or sons of bears."
"..."
"Anyway, according to history, there are 13 islands, but according to legend, there were 42."
"Why is that suddenly relevant?"
"Because there are 13 Milestones."
One in the capital.
One on each of the twelve islands.
That's the territory of the Kalion Archipelago, consisting of thirteen islands.
And coincidentally, there's one Milestone on each island.
"Doesn't that mean islands without Milestones all sank to the bottom of the sea? Ahaha, it's just a legend, a legend. How many elves have attempted underwater searches! If islands had sunk, there would surely be traces."
Ivan's expression hardened as he listened to Elfihera's words.
When someone is trying to do "something," the best way to understand their intentions is to start by inferring what their actions might cause.
Beolgrin is trying to stop the Milestones.
And if the Milestones stop, "according to legend," Kalion sinks beneath the sea.
In other words, Beolgrin is attempting to sink Kalion.
And if Kalion sinks...
'The sea route from the northeastern part of the Demon Territory to the mainland would be freely opened to demons.'