“Basic computation” was exactly what the term implied.

Basic—no more, no less.

It would be strange if it held any more meaning.

Basic computation was mainly used to find variables when maintaining specific magic or researching particular spells.

To put it simply, basic computation was like grunt work.

Repetitive labor that required no real thinking.

Naturally, those assigned to it were mostly low-ranking, new mages, who often referred to themselves self-deprecatingly as “slaves.”

And rightly so, since their daily routine closely resembled that of actual slaves.

They’d wake up and rush to the lab in the morning for basic computation.

Eat breakfast, then rush back for more basic computation.

Eat lunch and do more computation.

Eat dinner and repeat the cycle.

Have a late-night snack and head back for more basic computation.

By dawn, they’d collapse in a tiny 3-pyeong room, dark circles under their eyes, and close them for a few hours of sleep.

Slaves were the same.

Wake up and rush to the fields in the morning to work.

Eat breakfast and go back to the fields.

Eat lunch and continue working.

Eat dinner and keep working.

Sleep at night.

…Huh?

Laying it all out like this, it kind of seemed like slaves might have had a slightly better quality of life.

…Anyway, the point was, from Alon’s perspective—

It was just like what a graduate student, the professor’s slave, would do.

But why on earth was this happening?

“Parkline.”

“The master of the Red Mage Tower.”

“Yes, sir. Interviewee number 32.”

“I see.”

This was why things had turned out like this.

Alon slowly turned his gaze toward Evan.

Evan, too, looked back at Alon with a puzzled expression.

‘You don’t know?’

‘How would I know…? Didn’t you do something, Marquis?’

‘I’ve been lying in bed all day yesterday, though?’

‘Oh, right…’

They didn’t even need to speak.

With just their eyes, they finished the conversation.

Behind Alon’s blank expression, complex emotions were stirring.

He had done nothing.

The only thing he did yesterday was deal with Sloth, then collapse from the aftereffects of Reverse Heaven.

So then why, without his knowledge, was he now watching interviewees who had assigned themselves numbers?

And what’s more…

“Yes, I’m confident in computation.”

“Is that so?”

“You know, the spells of the Red Mage Tower are fundamentally structured to require basic computation in parallel. The density of required computation is incredibly high.”

A master of a mage tower—not just any mage— was proudly volunteering to be a computation slave.

In modern terms— it was like a top-tier professor saying, “I’m confident I can be a great slave!”

Faced with that, Alon could only stand there, dumbfounded.

Two hours later, he found the culprit behind all this.

“Um—I think it’s my fault. I’m sorry…”

Sharan, the master of the Green Mage Tower.

She was the one responsible.

“What exactly did you say to them?”

“Well, I didn’t say anything major…”

Sharan then explained what she had told the other mages yesterday.

After hearing the whole story, Alon summarized the situation.

“So all you said was that helping with basic computation could support my magical research?”

“Yes… but somehow it turned into all this…”

Seeing the guilt written on Sharan’s face, Alon held his tongue.

It was true—she hadn’t done anything particularly wrong.

But it wasn’t hard to figure out how this situation snowballed.

‘It’s probably because of that magic I showed them yesterday.’

Alon had demonstrated magic several times before.

But yesterday’s magic had a different impact on the mages.

Even Alon himself had thought, “Did I really do that?”

Sharan’s comment about helping his research through computation must have acted as a catalyst.

Finally understanding why professors (mages) were voluntarily becoming slaves (grad students), Alon scratched his head.

‘What should I do…’

Of course, having more mages was a good thing.

Slow progress in magic interpretation had always stemmed from the bottleneck of basic computation.

But if he were to bring in a large number of mages?

The speed would improve drastically.

Even so, Alon hesitated for a few reasons.

First, the mages wanted to help with Alon’s research mostly so they could study his magic.

But unfortunately—

No matter how much the current generation of mages researched it, they wouldn’t be able to use his magic.

Which meant, the only one benefiting from this arrangement would be Alon.

Sure, they were volunteering to be slaves, but Sharan and a few others already knew the truth.

Thinking long-term, the relationship could sour.

Secondly, he needed Heinkel’s permission.

Heinkel would be the one conducting the research with the mages, not Alon.

“Hmm~”

As Alon pondered this, Penia chimed in beside him.

“Is that really something worth worrying over?”

“Well, they’re not gaining anything out of it.”

“Couldn’t we just explain that to them ahead of time?”

“You’re not wrong there—”

Alon pressed his fingers against his forehead and continued.

“Alright, let’s do as Penia says. Let’s start by informing them properly.”

“Shall I ask Heinkel then?”

“Can you?”

“I received a communication crystal last time.”

“Then I’ll leave it to you.”

“Sure. She’ll probably reach out by this evening, so I’ll talk to her then.”

Penia nodded in reply.

***

Night.

“Eliban.”

“Mm?”

Eliban, who had been gazing quietly at the Milky Way, turned as Yan called out to him.

“Stargazing again?”

“Yeah. What’s up?”

“It’s almost time for the meeting. You need to go collect your reward, don’t you?”

At her words, Eliban nodded.

He briefly thought about the item King Stalian V of the Kingdom of Ashtalon had offered as a reward.

“Got it. Want to go ahead?”

“You’re not coming with me?”

“Hold on, I need to think.”

It was a subtle way of telling her to leave.

Though Yan looked puzzled, she nodded as if she understood and disappeared.

Once he confirmed Yan had gone, Eliban wiped the bright smile from his face and turned back to the Milky Way.

And he recalled the memory from yesterday.

Specifically, right after Marquis Palatio had dealt with the sin of Sloth.

The conversation he had with Radan, who had come to find him.

‘Are you really going to do it?’

‘Yeah.’

The conversation wasn’t long.

No, to be precise, it wasn’t even a conversation.

Radan asked a question.

Eliban answered.

That was it.

Radan didn’t ask anything more.

And Eliban didn’t say anything else either.

They ended their interaction with that one exchange.

Radan turned and went straight to Seolrang without hesitation.

And Eliban watched him go.

The only thing he remembered was that brief exchange—but it was unforgettable.

“Hoo—”

Eliban let out a sigh.

His head was a mess.

But then he gave a small shake of his head and smiled again, just as he always did.

His work wasn’t finished yet.

And until it was all done, he had to keep smiling.

He had to be everyone’s savior.

He had to become a hero for everyone.

He had to become famous.

He absolutely had to.

“Eliban! I think you should come now!”

Eliban turned toward Yan’s voice.

“Sorry! I’m coming!”

Before he knew it,

A bright, glowing smile had returned to his face.

***

Evening.

Alon stepped outside, still not fully recovered.

It was because King Stalian V of the Ashtalon Kingdom had summoned everyone involved in the Sloth incident.

Of course, no one minded that summons.

It was surely to discuss rewards.

‘Something similar to an Abyssal Artifact, but with no side effects… what could it be?’

With that in mind, Alon recalled what Evan had told him earlier about the king’s reward and made his way toward the meeting room.

As soon as he arrived—

“Ah! Master!”

“Brother!”

“Greetings, brother.”

He was warmly greeted by Seolrang, Radan, and Yuman, as if they had been waiting for him.

“How’s your body?”

“I’m fine!”

“I’m alright too, brother. But what about you?”

“Yeah, Master, are you okay?”

Since he had collapsed yesterday and hadn’t seen their faces since, Alon quickly nodded.

“I’m fine. I just overdid it a little—wasn’t injured.”

“Thank goodness, Master!”

“Seriously.”

Once Alon finished his greetings, Yuman approached.

“You look much better. I was going to visit you several times, but there were always so many people around that I couldn’t.”

“Same here! Weirdos kept gathering in front of your room!”

“Me too.”

“Ugh…”

Only after Alon declared the interviews would be paused did the mages finally disperse.

‘Yeah, that…’

Alon recalled the scene of them crowding around his room.

“But Master, what exactly did you do?”

“An unintended interview…?”

“Interview?”

While he was explaining the situation to the puzzled Seolrang—

Back at the mage tower…

[So, you’re asking if it’s okay to bring in more mages?]

[Yes, Marquis asked me to check with you, Miss Heinkel!]

Heinkel and Penia were exchanging messages.

[Well, I don’t really mind.]

Heinkel nodded as if to say it wasn’t a bad idea.

And that made sense—since she had already revealed her identity to Celaime and Sharan.

At this point, it didn’t matter much what happened.

‘Besides, it would help speed up magic decoding right now.’

Of course, there was also a slightly petty and secret thrill that came from seeing Sharan and Celaime look at her with admiration—something a grand mage probably shouldn’t enjoy, but did anyway.

[Are you sure it’s alright?]

[Yeah, it’s fine.]

Heinkel nodded at Penia.

[So, how many are we talking about?]

[Hmm, just a sec~]

‘Well, obviously they can’t be on the level of a tower master. So maybe around 5 to 10 would be good.’

As Heinkel roughly calculated the number of mages they’d need—

[5… 5]

[5 people?]

[About 58 people.]

[58?]

[Yes.]

Heinkel was a little surprised.

It was quite a bit more than she expected.

But she quickly shrugged it off.

Better to have too many than not enough.

So as she was about to say “not bad~”—

[Ah, it’s 68 now.]

[……Suddenly?]

[Sharan’s accepting new applicants in real time. So if I organize it now, we’ve got 74… no, 78…]

[?]

The number started increasing before she could even react.

[Hmm, currently there are 111 applicants, but you’ll need to meet them yourself. I’ll go ahead and compile a list of 117… no, 128.]

[???]

[Oops—actually, I’ll send over 135.]

[?????]

[Ah, we just hit 141.]

As the number kept multiplying (?) without end, Heinkel realized—though she didn’t know exactly what— something was definitely happening.

[Alright, we’ve hit 150.]

Yeah, something big…

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep