A Talentless Mage Devours a Disaster-Class Future - Chapter 50

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 50

The day after Lenar’s expulsion was finalized.

Aion sat on a bench at the edge of the Academy Courtyard, staring at nothing in particular. He had no real desire to go anywhere or do anything.

His mind was blank.
Deliberately so.

Recently, there had been too much to think about. The past few weeks, tangled up with Mark and his circle, had exhausted him in ways that mere words couldn’t capture.

‘Finally, things are quiet again.’

A breeze drifted past.

So this was what lightness felt like—as if something that had been pressing down on his shoulders had simply vanished.

‘Hmm?’

A tall male student was ambling toward him in the distance.

‘Heading this way?’

Thud, thud.

The footsteps grew closer. Aion lifted his head naturally.

A student with crossed arms, gazing down at him—that face from the Bosco Combat Assessment, the one who’d held the Dome until the very end.

“…?”
“…”

It was Gares.

The two exchanged a quiet stare.

A strange tension hung between them.
Just as Aion wondered how long the silence would stretch, Gares spoke first.

“So you’re Aion?”
“…Why?”

Gares received the answer but didn’t reply immediately.

Whoosh…

Gares looked Aion up and down once, slowly.

Thump.

He plunked himself down on the bench beside him.

“Mind if I sit here?”
“Do as you please.”

It was a public bench anyway.

Moments later, Gares spoke abruptly.

“That was quite something.”
“…….”
“Honestly, I’m impressed.”

Impressed by what, exactly?
When Aion glanced sideways,

“I never imagined you’d destroy my dome with such a crude method.”
“We had no other choice.”
“Weren’t you supposed to be Tier 1?”

Aion chose not to answer directly.
There was no reason to broadcast the fact that he’d just reached Tier 2 from Tier 1 in this setting, and lengthy explanations didn’t suit his temperament anyway.

“I did some asking around. I was trying to sleep, but sleep wouldn’t come. I’ve never felt this way before….”

Gares scratched the back of his head roughly, then spoke as if casting the words aside.

“I thought all nobles had no grit because they’d never gone hungry like I have, never known hardship like I have.”

Prejudice.
Or a conviction long since rooted.

“I was wrong. This place has… real ones too.”

A soft laugh—

“Like you.”

He rose from the bench. His business was brief, clearly finished.

“Anyway, I needed to see the face of the one who smashed my dome—couldn’t rest otherwise. So I came.”

Whoosh—

A parting word left as he turned away.

“Next time, it won’t break through, Aion Iscar.”

Gares waved a hand vaguely and left without hesitation. That blunt acknowledgment was quite a novel experience for Aion.

At least it was far cleaner and more straightforward than the nobles’ shadowy, calculating attitudes.

A rather direct sort of goodwill, one might say.

That was when it happened.

“Huh? Did someone already come and go?”
“…Marcel, senior?”

A familiar yet cheerful voice.
When he turned, Marcel and Iris were approaching—a second-year senior and his companion.

Whoosh—

Marcel planted himself beside Aion, eyes gleaming.

“Aion! You’re seriously something else, aren’t you?”
“…Am I?”
“What do you mean ‘was it’? I’m talking about Sniping. I’d never seen magic like that before. Did you invent it? Are you some kind of genius? Or maybe a Grand Mage’s secret disciple? I thought everyone watching from the second-floor gallery was going to pass out!”
“Well… Marcel, most of that’s true, but could you tone down the theatrics a bit? Aion seems to be desperately avoiding your eyes.”
“Huh? Oh… was I being too much?”

He scratched his head and glanced at Aion’s expression.

“I get it, though. That day with Aion was pretty shocking.”

Iris chimed in with her arms folded.
Her gaze held far more than the casual interest she’d shown back in the Arcane Hall—it was thick with curiosity and admiration.

“I never would’ve imagined Leon being that absorbed in watching.”

She spoke carefully, testing Aion’s expression as she did.

“So about that Executive Committee offer…”

Aion’s expression hardened at once.
A proposal he’d forgotten.

Or rather, one he’d already decided on and erased from his mind.

“The Executive Committee offer…”
“I know. You’re going to refuse it?”
“……Yes.”

Marcel and Iris laughed at Aion’s answer.

“I kind of guessed. You seemed like someone who hated anything bothersome anyway. Well… it probably just wasn’t suited to you.”
“I apologize.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for. We just had different goals. But still… I can visit that mountain lodge where you stay sometimes, right?”
“……?”
“I found out you’re staying at a lodge near the Mistbale Forest around End Point in Nocturna. I was pretty surprised when I learned. Can I visit next time?”

He paused.

“That’s……”

Sien’s warning flashed through Aion’s mind. If he carelessly invited others to the lodge beyond this, problems could arise.

“Was it such a difficult request?”
“Marcel! What did I tell you? I said not to ask!”
“…It was just a casual greeting. Don’t take it to heart.”
“Anyway, we’re heading out now! See you next time.”

Once Iris and Marcel had left, Aion sat alone again on the bench in the sunlit Academy Courtyard.

Silence settled over the surroundings once more.

Aion remained quietly on the bench, tracing back the turbulent changes that now surrounded him.
On the day of admission, the contempt and scorn that had rained down when he couldn’t produce his Identity Verification Crystal.

The prejudiced gazes of nobles from the north, looking at him as though he were vermin.

But now, all of that was changing.
A result cultivated by his own hands.
Then, as if they’d been waiting, the voices of old men echoed through his mind.

【Flame: Heh-heh… you’ve done well for yourself, Aion. Look at how far that small fry has come.】
【Earth: And who do you think is responsible for all this? Ha! It was worth all the trouble we went through to teach you.】
【Water Flow: What… it’s only natural.】
【Life: Natural? Has anyone here ever been recognized to this degree in their student days?】
【Flame: Hmm… well then….】
【Earth: …Why’d you have to dredge up bad memories? Your personality’s rotten, you know.】

The Ancient Consciousness as always—their chatter was theatrical and lively.

Aion savored their commotion, listening to the breeze that passed through their voices.

He found that all of this wasn’t quite so terrible.

***

North of Mistbale Forest.

Sunlight filtered through the branches in thin, pale streams.
Aion walked a familiar path. Fallen leaves crackled beneath his feet.

The elf mage’s cottage sat quietly at the forest’s edge, as it always did.

Click—

As he stepped through the door, the elf mage was sitting facing the wall.

“You’re here, brat.”
“…The door’s on this side.”
“…Is it?”

Aion saw no point in elaborating.

He surveyed the cottage interior first, gauging what needed to be done today.
Unwashed dishes had accumulated. It was what he’d expected.

It was something he’d learned not long ago—since Aion had started visiting, the elf mage’s daily routine had changed considerably.

Especially after discovering just how capable Aion was at housekeeping.

Dishes he once washed himself now deliberately piled up; the orderly arrangement of things had dissolved into chaos.

Perhaps it was faith that Aion, visiting once a week, would handle it somehow.

‘If you count this as trust, then so be it.’

Choosing to view being relied upon as a good thing, he set about his chores.

As Aion rolled up his sleeves, the elf mage belatedly turned his head toward him.

Then fell silent for a moment.

“You’ve grown?”
“…?”
“Only slightly.”

Grown how?
Was he talking about the dishes?

【Flame: He noticed your Realm has risen.】
【Earth: For a mage of his caliber, that’d be easier than reading palms.】
【Life: Still, you just crossed into the Second Tier, so the Mana shift should be barely perceptible. He spotted it easily, though.】

The conversation between those who had ascended to such lofty heights sounded like an alien language to Aion.

Aion paused and studied the elf mage for a moment. She turned her gaze away as if it were nothing.

“Keep going. There’s much to be done.”
……

Clink, clink.

As Aion finished the dishes and returned the utensils to their places, the elf mage gazed out the window in silence.

Aion made no effort to speak either.
After several visits, he had come to understand that this elf mage was someone who did not find silence uncomfortable.

Then the elf mage spoke abruptly.

“You seem to have been busy lately.”
“Yes, somewhat.”
“Rest matters too.”

Aion did not answer. There was nothing wrong with what she said, after all.

As he returned the items to their places, his hand suddenly stopped.
It was because of something resting on one of the shelves.

Most of the objects in the cottage looked grotesque.
Things that had bothered him since he first saw them. Each had a distinct appearance, yet all carried an uncanny, ominous aura.

There were plenty of things one should not touch.

“What are these……?”
“Things that have tasted human blood.”

She spoke while still gazing out the window.

“If I had left them alone, far more humans would have died.”

Aion withdrew his hand from the object.

“It’s better that I have them. Besides, if I’m lucky, I sometimes discover interesting things.”

The patterns on their backs were worn smooth, bearing clear traces of age, and the cards themselves emanated an unusual presence.

“A divination deck from an ancient kingdom that perished long ago. They call it the Arcana.”
“I see.”

Most objects like this are rooted in superstition.

A faith distant from true belief.
In other words, it wasn’t something particularly close to Aion either.

And just now, the elf mage had noticed exactly that.

“You just doubted me, didn’t you? Thinking that pointy-ears has gotten bewitched by something strange again.”
“No… not quite that….”
“This thing is real. The problem is, the mechanism’s too complicated for anyone but me to use it. When was the last time I activated it, anyway?”

The elf mage studied the cards in her hand for a moment, then made a quick decision.

“Fine. If you don’t believe me, I’ll read your near future for you.”
“Wait—”

Before Aion could stop her, she’d already drawn a card.

Snap!

She held it wedged between her index and middle finger, turned so only she could see the face.

“Hmm.”
“……?”

Something ominous stirred in the air.

“…Maybe we should forget about this.”

His unease deepened.

“Show me.”
“…Are you sure?”

Sure had nothing to do with it.
She’d forced the reading herself.

“Go on.”

The elf mage flipped the card, revealing its face to Aion.

The image on the card became clear.

A raven perched upon a gravestone.

“Yeah, sorry.”

Her words, though surely superstition, sent a chill through his heart.

“Death draws near.”

The Talentless Mage Devours a Calamitous Future — Chapter 50

Author
Wang Moji
Publisher
Daon Creative
Planning / Editing / Production
Yeon
Cover Art
Dali

UCI
G720:N+A036-20260706063.0050

© 2026, Wang Mozzi

※ This electronic book is a copyrighted work protected under the Copyright Law of the Republic of Korea.
No part or all of this work may be reprocessed in any form without the permission of the author and publisher.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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