The Mage’s Nemesis Has Reincarnated - Chapter 61

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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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The Natural Enemy of Mages Has Been Reincarnated – Episode 61
‘There’s something. Something….’
I already knew from Baluduk that the target wasn’t an ordinary boy.
‘He supposedly distinguished himself by using eavesdropping devices to expose traitors. And he even prevented the poisoning assassination attempt by the spy disguised as the Court Chef.’
By this measure, he was practically a hero who had saved the Decan Kingdom from crisis.
I understood why Baluduk wanted to kill Zeke McLafflin.
But.
‘He’s a mage, isn’t he? How could he survive being hit by a mana gun with Soul Burst embedded in it? The Poison Pioneer was killed in a single shot?’
I couldn’t comprehend how Zeke had survived.
Especially since I’d watched him get hit with my own two eyes.
‘Something feels wrong. There’s something here.’
A premonition told me I needed to proceed more cautiously.
It would be better to investigate Zeke further.
And the identity of the girl who was with him at the time.
‘First, I need to investigate the people who know about the target.’
For that, it would be best to investigate his family first.
‘Didn’t they say there was a brother expelled from the McLafflin Family?’
Esca, grinning wickedly, picked up the communication device connected to his subordinates.

* * *
There were countless mercenary companies across the continent.
Some were well-known just by name, while countless others were heard of for the first time.
The destination Zeke’s group was heading to was naturally a mercenary company with reputation.
Specifically, the Golden Eagle Mercenary Corps, which boasted exceptional skill among them.
“Is this the place?”
“Yeah. This is the only Golden Eagle Mercenary Corps branch in Tenjin. Since it’s in the Borderlands, there will be fewer people than the other branches.”
Zeke nodded and stepped forward to open the door.
Just as Peter had said, the interior was quiet.
Perhaps because of this, the receptionist greeted us with a business smile.
“Welcome. Are you here to request a job?”
“No. We’ve come because we want to enlist in the mercenary company.”
The moment the receptionist heard the word “enlist,” his expression became serious.
As if he’d just heard an unfunny joke.
The profession of mercenary was far too rough for a boy who was only sixteen years old.
“Who will be enlisting?”
“All three of us.”
“The woman over there is enlisting too?”
“Yes.”
The receptionist’s expression grew even more surprised than before.
It was only natural.
On the Pangaea Continent, it was exceedingly rare for women to become mercenaries.
Beyond the grueling nature of the work, the innate difference in physical strength was the primary barrier.
It was the same reason why trained swordswomen were so uncommon.
Similarly, nobility almost never became mercenaries.
They viewed it as a base profession—one that bartered money for life itself—and regarded mercenaries as little more than errand runners.
Consequently, mercenaries were predominantly common-born men.
So the receptionist had every reason to be startled.
“You truly wish to enlist? Which division are you applying for?”
“We wish to join the combat Mage Tower that deploys to war.”
“The Mage Tower? You’re mages? All of you?”
“All three of us.”
The receptionist’s expression shifted to one of understanding.
If they were mages, that made sense.
It wasn’t unheard of for female mages to work as mercenaries from time to time.
Yet the glimmer of doubt hadn’t entirely vanished from her eyes.
Three mages enlisting at once was something she’d never witnessed in her tenure as a receptionist.
“First, I’ll need your names.”
“I’m Zeke McLafflin, this is Peter McLafflin, and Mary.”
“Are you commoners?”
“Yes.”
If we claimed to be nobility seeking to enlist as mercenaries, she’d stare at us as though we were mad.
She’d pepper us with endless questions and make the process tedious.
Claiming commoner status was far simpler for enlisting.
Besides, the successor trials’ regulations required us to conceal our identities.
“You mentioned joining the Mage Tower? What about your Circle rank?”
“Peter and I are 6th Circle. Mary is 5th Circle.”
“I’m sorry—could you repeat that?”
Despite hearing clearly, the receptionist doubted her own ears.
Such achievements were unbelievable for their respective ages.
“So you’re saying both of you are 6th Circle, and the lady is 5th Circle?”
“That’s what I said.”
“You mustn’t lie. If you fail the qualification verification test, your enlistment could be rejected.”
“It’s not a lie.”
Not a flicker of hesitation crossed my face as I spoke the truth.
The receptionist’s gaze suggested skepticism.
Her expression conveyed bewilderment—why would they lie about something so easily disproven during verification?
“Well, I understand. Once you pass the qualification verification test, we’ll issue you a mercenary badge. If your 5th Circle rank or higher is confirmed, you’ll receive a Gold Badge, our highest tier.”
“Understood.”
“Then please wait a moment. I’ll call the examiner.”
The receptionist, who had been recording something, picked up a parchment and ascended to the upper floor.
Soon enough, a muscular man descended alongside him.
“Osborn, examiner for the Golden Eagle Mercenary Corps. You wish to join the Combat Mage Tower?”
“Yes.”
“Follow me then.”
Osborn led the way while examining the parchment the guide had handed him.
Then he suddenly stopped in his tracks.
“What? Fifth Circle, Sixth Circle?”
Shock was written plainly across Osborn’s face as he turned around.
He had only just noticed the guide’s records.
“You’re not lying about the Circles written here, are you?”
“Of course not.”
“Who taught you magic?”
“I taught myself.”
“Self-taught magic? That’s the most absurd thing I’ve heard all year.”
Osborn let out a hollow laugh at my answer, his expression turning indifferent.
The truth would reveal itself soon enough anyway.
Creak—
As Osborn opened the door, a space that appeared to be a training ground came into view.
“This is a makeshift training ground prepared for the examination. Show me just one spell at the highest Circle you can manage, and I’ll grant you a mercenary badge.”
“So you want me to demonstrate a Sixth Circle spell, correct?”
“Exactly. Don’t think that just because I’m a mercenary, I’m ignorant of magic. I’ve rolled through dozens of battlefields in my time. I know the types of Sixth Circle magic well enough. Don’t bother trying to deceive me.”
“I have no intention of deceiving you.”
“Well then, show me when you’re ready.”
Osborn didn’t seem to expect much.
As if to say: you, casting Sixth Circle magic?
His attitude suggested he was merely humoring me.
It was natural for him to be skeptical—most mages didn’t reach Sixth Circle until they were well past thirty.
But there was something Osborn didn’t know.
I was no ordinary mage.
‘What should I show him? Any decent Sixth Circle spell will do.’
I opened my palm without a staff.
A sneer tugged at the corner of Osborn’s mouth as he watched.
A mage attempting to cast magic without a staff—ridiculous.
‘His arrogance knows no bounds.’
A staff’s role was to aid mana circulation and accelerate casting speed, not to mention improve accuracy against targets.
Especially for Sixth Circle spells with lengthy casting times, a staff was an absolute necessity.
Yet here he was, attempting to manifest magic without one—it looked nothing short of presumptuous.
‘His very posture as a mage is flawed. Though it’s unlikely… even if the spell succeeds, I’d have to fail him… wait?’
Osborn’s breath caught suddenly as he watched me.
His eyes bulged wide as a frog’s.
In fact, I had anticipated the casting would take at least a minute, yet it took less than a single second.
“A 6th Circle spell—Water Wave. Does this qualify?”
Despite witnessing the swirling waters coalescing in Zeke’s palm, Osborn remained speechless.
He could see plainly enough that Water Wave was indeed a 6th Circle spell.
What left Osborn astounded was the formidable casting speed.
‘He manifested Water Wave that quickly? Without even a staff…?’
Osborn’s jaw hung open—a speed that would be credible even as a silent cast. He quickly regained his composure.
“Y-you’ve qualified. You can dispel it now.”
As if waiting for those words, Zeke extinguished the waters in his grasp.
Peter and Mary then demonstrated their own highest-tier spells in turn.
Yet unlike Zeke, both wielded staffs during their demonstrations.
Even so, their casting took roughly ten seconds—noticeably longer than Zeke’s.
‘This… the comparison is just too stark.’
Peter and Mary possessed tremendous talent, but their impact paled beside Zeke’s.
Moreover, wasn’t Zeke even younger than they were?
Osborn found himself unable to tear his gaze from Zeke, as though bewitched by a phantom.
“Is that everything?”
“Huh? Oh, ah, yes. The qualification assessment is complete. Without question, you’ve all passed.”
Osborn spoke thus and inscribed each of their names upon the mercenary badges he had prepared.
“Take one each. These are Gold Mercenary Badges. With these, no one will dare look down upon you. They’re only bestowed upon elite mercenaries within the corps.”
“I see. Thank you. Is that all, then?”
“Yes. Welcome to the Golden Eagle Mercenary Corps.”
It was the moment Zeke and his companions became mercenaries.

* * *
Mercenaries undertake various types of work.
They accept subjugation contracts to eliminate monsters, escort merchant caravans, protect dignitaries, and more.
If there’s money in it, they’ll do anything short of outright theft.
But among all these tasks, territorial warfare commands the highest price.
In conflicts between nobles vying to seize each other’s lands, mercenaries proved invaluable.
With enough coin, you could purchase cheap labor—and mercenaries were the cheapest.
They cost far less to maintain than raising soldiers, so supply and demand flowed freely.
Since their lives hung in the balance, the rewards for victory were staggering.
This is precisely why the mercenary industry became rife with get-rich-quick schemes.
“That’s why few mercenaries who enter territorial wars live long. Either they make their fortune and retire, or they grow greedy for one more score and lose their lives. One or the other. But we’re different.”
Chris, the commander of the Battle Mage Division, swept his gaze across the assembled group with a grave expression.
A dozen or so mercenary mages hung on his every word.
“Unlike sword-swinging mercenaries, we mages can provide support from the rear. We face far less risk of death than those poor souls who must stand as shields at the front.”
The commander’s eyes shifted to the side.
He reached over and patted Zeke McLafflin’s shoulder.
“Understand? There’s no reason to fear entering territorial warfare. We cast our spells safely from behind, and if things go south, we simply withdraw. This is why the Battle Mage Division of the Golden Eagle Mercenary Corps has never been disbanded.”
‘I’ve never been afraid in the first place….’
Zeke McLafflin’s expressionless face must have appeared frozen to the commander.
“So treat these three well. You’ll fight alongside them through many wars to come—comrades, in other words. Get to know them, teach them what you know, and grow close. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t worry, sir.”
With that, the commander excused himself.
The mercenaries’ attention converged on Zeke McLafflin’s group.
More precisely, on Mary.
“You’re Mary, right? How old are you?”
“Are you a commoner? What Circle?”
“If there’s any magic you don’t know, ask me. I’m really good at teaching.”
“Do you like to drink?”
The mercenaries swarmed around her, bombarding her with questions.
Mary’s mind reeled from the sudden onslaught of attention.
Zeke McLafflin and Peter McLafflin, pushed to the side, frowned, but they understood.
After all, in a group mostly composed of men, women were as rare a sight as elves.
Moreover, Mary possessed a striking beauty that even Peter—who had seen countless noble ladies—had to acknowledge.
“Zeke. We’re completely ignored here?”
“What does it matter? We didn’t join to impress the other members.”
“Then why did we join?”
“Well….”
‘To copy their skills.’
Zeke McLafflin smiled as he observed the mercenaries.
To his eyes, each individual was nothing more than a walking pouch of magical artifacts.
Then I noticed a few of them huddling together, whispering amongst themselves.
They snickered to each other while casting furtive glances at Mary.
Their eyes gleamed with sinister intent.
“What do you think?”
“Hehehehe, that’s a brilliant idea, isn’t it?”
“Let’s do it tonight, right now.”
“Hehehehe, just thinking about it gets the blood pumping, doesn’t it?”
I observed their scheming in silence before shifting my stance.
I moved toward the whispering group.

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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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