The Son-In-Law of the Magician Is a Transcendent Sword Master - Chapter 143

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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 143
The treasure vault nestled deep beneath the Imperial Mage Tower commanded such overwhelming majesty that it drew involuntary gasps of awe.
Sturdy steel walls encircled on all sides, and sophisticated security enchantments hung grimly from every display case. The structure even spanned nearly five levels.
Though the Archmage’s Treasury supposedly surpassed the Imperial Treasury in quality, no vault in the realm matched the Imperial’s sheer quantity.
My admiration lasted only a moment.
I came to truly understand the influence that Archmage King Damian Carius wielded within the Imperial Palace.
“Inspector Gideon Midian, what is the meaning of this? You’ve brought outsiders here—two of them, no less.”
A middle-aged custodian guarding the vault entrance blocked our path, making no effort to conceal his displeasure. Gideon shrugged and replied.
“We’ve come to use a platinum token.”
At those words, the custodian’s frown deepened.
“Even if you possess a platinum token, unauthorized outsiders cannot use it. Surely you’re aware that the Imperial Magic Academy President’s permission is required?”
He was right. The Imperial Mage Tower’s treasure vault wasn’t a street stall where anyone could enter by simply paying coin.
Regardless of this special currency called platinum tokens, one couldn’t simply hand over Imperial relics to outsiders.
However….
“This platinum token was issued by Chief Inspector Damian.”
The moment Damian’s name was spoken, the custodian’s eyes widened. He hastily received the platinum token from Gideon’s hand and examined the insignia carved into its surface. Soon after, the custodian released a deep sigh and shook his head slowly.
“If Chief Inspector Damian has vouched for you… then I suppose I must make an exception. However, you must complete your business quickly, before others take notice.”
“Thank you.”
I inwardly clicked my tongue.
Even the fastidious custodian of the Imperial Magic Association bent his rules.
It was a clear demonstration of just how absolute Chief Inspector Damian Carius’s authority was within the Imperial Mage Tower.
As the custodian opened the heavy iron doors that had been firmly sealed, I approached Gideon and asked carefully.
“Damian certainly holds considerable standing in the Imperial Magic Association.”
“Indeed. Damian enjoys the Academy President’s singular favor. Beyond that, as a fellow mage, he commands respect. A 7th-tier pinnacle mage in his thirties—I’ve heard there hasn’t been such a prodigy in nearly five hundred years.”
Gideon’s expression darkened as he continued speaking.
“I just never imagined that genius would be put to such use.”
“….”
“In any case, we have permission now, so feel free to examine the vault. Since you’ve paid with the platinum token, you may take any single item from this treasury.”
“Anything at all?”
Sheril suddenly interjected, her black eyes gleaming with avarice. Gideon nodded, though taken aback.
“Y-yes, anything. You’re welcome to take whatever is displayed on the shelves.”
At Gideon’s addition, Sheril wasted no time weaving between the display cases, scrutinizing the items with keen interest.
Watching her, I let out a quiet laugh.
Just moments ago, Sheril had trembled with fear at the Archmage King’s schemes and expressed her hatred openly. Yet the moment valuable treasures lay before her eyes, she was utterly absorbed in securing practical gain.
How should I put it? Since becoming the Lord of the Shadow Tower, Sheril’s miserly nature had intensified considerably.
Perhaps it was inevitable, given the burden of managing the tower.
“Sheril, you seem pleased?”
“Not particularly. This is the price of Vera and Sierra’s lives, isn’t it? So… I’ll use this to feed my children well. I’m sure those two would want that.”
“…Yes, I suppose.”
It was a justification that Vera and Sierra—who had died so miserably in the underground prison—would hardly have welcomed, but I saw no point in voicing such objections.
I followed Sheril through the display cases at a leisurely pace, but nothing particularly caught my eye.
‘There’s really nothing I need here.’
I already possessed Barisada, obtained from Arcamen, and wore Hrunir’s heart upon my chest. I had Andvari’s Cube to open subspaces, and within it lay even the Archmage King’s cloak.
My equipment was overflowing. Adding more would only raise questions about whether I could even utilize it all.
‘In that case….’
I paused mid-step and stroked my chin thoughtfully. Then I quietly approached Sheril’s side.
“Sheril, I… have one favor to ask of you.”
“If it’s something strange, I must refuse.”
“No, it’s nothing like that….”
I scratched the back of my head, glanced around cautiously, and reluctantly whispered my request.
After hearing my plea, Sheril stared at me blankly for a moment, then her eyes widened in surprise.
Soon, a peculiar smile spread across her lips.
“…Reagan, it seems you’ve truly become a married man.”
“Be quiet.”
* * *
Though spring weather had arrived with genuine warmth, the atmosphere of the Benheim Estate had grown frigidly cold in recent days.
Even the family’s servants held their breath and treaded carefully.
While multiple reasons contributed to this change, most stemmed from Lyrnia Erahan von Benheim, the jewel of the Benheim family.
“Lyrnia, there’s no need to sulk like this.”
“But Father… Reagan left on a journey without taking me….”
In the drawing room of the main house, Lyrnia rested her forehead on the table, her voice tinged with resentment. Steren, observing her pouty expression, let out a wry smile of resignation.
As Lyrnia said, a week had already passed since Reagan departed the estate. Though he had explained to everyone that he left due to unavoidable circumstances, his complete silence regarding the specific destination and reasons had allowed Lyrnia’s discontent to accumulate.
“And he didn’t take me, yet he took Sheril with him.”
“…Well, that is….”
Indeed, Reagan had departed accompanied by Benheim’s handmaiden—or rather, the Shadow Tower Lord, Sheril.
More than half of Lyrnia’s foul mood stemmed from precisely that fact.
“What if… Reagan ends up being unfaithful?”
“…Lyrnia, Sheril is nearly ten years younger than Reagan. Such a thing won’t happen.”
“But Father, you and Mother have an eleven-year age difference.”
“….”
Having struck a nerve, Steren swallowed hard. Lyrnia was right, leaving him without grounds to argue further as her father.
Yet Steren regained his composure, cleared his throat, and spoke.
“There’s no need to worry so much, Lyrnia. Reagan surely has his reasons for everything.”
Even as he spoke these words, Steren inwardly contemplated why Reagan had left the estate vacant.
Benheim’s son-in-law, Reagan von Benheim, harbored secrets of his own—a conviction Steren held after observing him closely.
Reagan always acted with urgency, as though pursued by something. He displayed an almost pathological obsession with the affairs of other mage towers, great magic families, and even the Rucen household, whom he could scarcely call acquaintances.
It was reasonable to assume that Reagan’s departure from the estate this time was merely an extension of that very obsession.
Lyrnia, apparently sharing Steren’s thoughts, nodded in agreement.
“…Perhaps Reagan truly doesn’t wish to share his secrets with me.”
“Mm…. Lyrnia, that may well be because Reagan cares for you so deeply.”
“I understand. That much is obvious. Which is why I can’t even be angry about it.”
Steren smiled bitterly, yet his chest ached with an inexplicable tenderness.
The daughter he had always known would cling to him with childish whimsy had somehow blossomed into a refined lady, now confiding her profound concerns about marriage itself. As a father, it was only natural that conflicting emotions of pride and melancholy washed over him.
Just as Steren was about to offer words of comfort, the door opened.
Click.
“Stefan, what brings you here on a holiday?”
“My apologies, Archmage. I’ve come with urgent news.”
The mere fact that Stefan addressed Steren as “Archmage” made it clear—Stefan Benheim was a senior researcher at the Benheim Mage Tower.
In other words, Stefan’s visit to the family head on a day of rest could mean only one thing: there was a critical matter concerning the tower’s operations that required immediate reporting.
“Speak then. What is it?”
“Yes. A letter arrived from the Shadow Tower just this morning.”
The Shadow Tower.
Steren’s expression hardened. Lyrnia, who had been looking down, suddenly lifted her head, her ears perking up with interest.
The place where Sheril, who had departed with Reagan a week ago, now resided. News from there almost certainly concerned Reagan’s movements.
“I see. What message has come from the Shadow Tower?”
“They’ve issued an official statement declaring that all Dark Mage Guild branches scattered across the Continent will now fall under the Shadow Tower’s jurisdiction, consolidating their intelligence networks.”
“…Are you certain this is accurate? They’re suddenly reversing their previous decision?”
It had been three months since the Shadow Tower’s Archmage, Sheril, had declared she would pursue a separate path from the Dark Mage Guild branches.
Yet now she had abruptly reversed that decision. It was clearly unusual. From the Great Mage Alliance’s perspective, maintaining access to this intelligence network was welcome news, but even Steren couldn’t fathom the reasoning behind Sheril’s reversal.
However, he had his suspicions.
“…Is this Reagan’s doing?”
“My apologies. I cannot say. The letter contained only the intention to reverse the previous decision….”
Before Stefan could finish, the door opened again, and Captain Allet, the steward of Benheim, entered with an announcement.
“Family Head, Reagan has returned.”
“Reagan!?”
Before Steren could even respond, Lyrnia sprang to her feet. The sullen expression she had worn moments before vanished without a trace. Without even throwing on a coat, she bolted from the office in her bare form.
Steren exhaled softly and followed in her wake.
In mere moments, they arrived at the estate’s main gate.
There, Reagan was just stepping down from the carriage that had pulled up.
“Reagan! Where have you been? A whole week and you just now return!”
Lyrnia planted her hands on her hips and interrogated him sharply. Yet her gaze swept from his head to his feet, meticulously checking for any signs of injury.
“Renia, don’t worry. I’m perfectly fine.”
Reagan answered lightly, and Lyrnia’s pouty expression gradually softened.
“Really now…. Even with permission, staying out for a whole week is excessive, isn’t it? We’re still newlyweds.”
“…That’s… yes. I’m sorry. The journey took longer than expected.”
Reagan scratched the back of his head with an awkward smile.
“It’s not quite a fair exchange, but… well, what I mean is. Renia, I have something for you.”
“…Huh?”
As Lyrnia tilted her head in confusion, Reagan continued eagerly.
“Renia, would you hold out your hand? If possible, your left hand.”
“Like this?”
Renia extended her left hand without understanding, and Reagan carefully took it, then withdrew something gleaming silver from his pocket.
“I was thinking about it on the way here. At the wedding last time, I received all sorts of betrothal gifts, but it occurred to me that I’d never actually given you anything directly.”
“….”
“So I prepared something for this occasion.”
Reagan released Renia’s hand. A silver ring now adorned her left ring finger.
“It’s… well, you could call it a sort of… token, I suppose….”
Reagan scratched his cheek, avoiding her gaze as if embarrassed by his own gesture.
“It’s a gift, Renia.”
“….”
It was as if something had burst inside her.
The moment Reagan finished speaking, Renia’s ears flushed crimson. She kept her lips firmly sealed, staring at the ring on her ring finger as if unable to believe it was real.
“Lord Steren.”
Captain Allet, who had been observing from a step behind, turned to Steren with a beaming smile.
“…It seems your daughter and son-in-law truly have an excellent rapport, do they not?”
Steren was not one to miss the emotion woven through that laughter. He let out a heavy sigh and turned away sharply, as if unable to bear the sight.
“Allet, bring that special wine I had you store separately in my chambers.”

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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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