“Magus.”
“......”
“Magus?”
Even after the crewman left, Iaanop said nothing, and the mercenaries asked with slightly frightened faces.
There was nothing more ominous than a mage keeping silent.
‘I will lure him in no matter what!’
Beneath his hood, Iaanop’s pupils burned like torches.
Up until now his actions had been driven only by Antagondals’ orders and the reward.
But after seeing the sliver of magic just now, his eyes went mad and his thoughts changed.
“That… he’s definitely destined to become an archmage.”
The empire’s magic criminals were wicked and corrupt, but their greed for magic equaled that of proper mages.
Iaanop was no different.
Why else had he bowed his head for so long under someone as dangerous and capricious as Antagondals? For the hunger for magic.
And if that boy slipped into the wicked path and became an archmage—if Iaanop served loyally as his right hand—he could bathe in the secrets of magic that flowed from the boy’s side.
Rewards like that couldn’t be expected from someone stingy like Antagondals.
Iaanop would stake his life on his certainty that the boy had archmage potential.
“Instead of reporting to Antagondals…”
Iaanop decided he wouldn’t hand the boy over to Antagondals; he would secretly monopolize him.