And yet, Denken was met with silence.
His brows furrowed. The next moment, an overwhelming magical detection burst out without restraint, instantly sweeping through the entire office.
"…He's in there."
"Lernen! Open the door!"
But still, the same silence greeted him.
"Heh." Denken scoffed. Rather than giving up, the longer he waited, the harder he knocked—until finally, it evolved into full-blown pounding.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The ruckus wasn't just audible to Lernen inside—even the whole floor could hear it clearly.
Several people opened their doors, ready to complain—only to immediately shut them again when they saw who it was.
You'd have to be crazy to pick a fight with Denken, even if he was being noisy.
Everyone knew he was not like the rest of them.
Most court mages came from noble backgrounds or were elite graduates of the Imperial Academy of Magic.
But Denken was the outlier—the only one who came up through the military ranks.
He fought his way here, step by bloody step, earning his place through sheer merit.
In terms of magical skill, they might be comparable. But if it came to fists, Denken could flatten ten of them without breaking a sweat.
And in the palace, where magic was tightly regulated, physical strength mattered.
Not to mention, everyone knew what had just happened to Lernen.
In such a sensitive time, it was best not to get involved.
...
Eventually, after Denken's relentless pounding, Lernen could no longer sit idly in his office chair. He rose and opened the door himself.
Hearing movement inside, Denken finally stopped knocking and massaged his sore, reddened knuckles.
"Ugh—solid wood doors hurt."
But just as Lernen cracked the door open, Denken's expression grew even more serious.
The stench of alcohol hit him like a wall.
"Come in," Lernen said weakly.
Without meeting his friend's eyes, Lernen turned and stumbled back into the room, collapsing into his chair and taking a deep swig from the bottle on his desk.
The stench of liquor grew even stronger.
Denken silently scanned the scene—his friend slouched in defeat, bottles strewn across the desk and floor. He mentally tallied how many Lernen had drunk.
After a moment, Denken let out a derisive snort.
Grabbing a chair, he sat down across from Lernen, making sure his mockery was loud and clear.
"What are you laughing at?"
Face flushed, Lernen slammed the bottle down on the desk.
"I'm laughing at your tolerance."
Denken said bluntly, without a hint of mercy.
"They're stripping you of your rank and title. It's been five days since that signal was sent—and you've only drunk thirteen bottles?"
"No, wait—" he glanced at the half-full one in Lernen's hand, "—make that twelve and a half."
"What, need a sip before meals to whet your appetite? Or a bottle to sleep at night?"
"Denken, you—!"
Lernen slammed the bottle again—only to immediately fizzle out in anger.
Denken, being Denk, didn't hold back.
Clink! Clink! Clink!
Three corks popped in quick succession, and before Lernen could react, Denken had downed two bottles.
He clinked the third one against Lernen's bottle.
"If you want to drink away your sorrows, I'll join you. But after we're done, you're going to rest."
"Sure, it was a royal decree. But until the official paperwork arrives, we've still got room to maneuver."
Lernen's hand trembled on the bottle—but after a long sigh, he spoke softly:
"No need, Denken."
Then he smiled faintly, turned in his chair, and looked out the window at the palace silhouette bathed in sunlight.
His face grew calm.
"Denken, over these last few days… I've come to terms with it."
"It's my own fault—I was too naive in dealing with others, and I lost my position because of it."
"I don't blame those who schemed against me. With my personality, it was bound to happen eventually."
"There's only one thing I'm grateful for."
"That I met the right friend… in the wrong position."
"Alright, cut it out."
Denken waved a hand to stop Lernen's boozy rambling.
"Finish your drink and get some rest. Tomorrow's going to be tough."
Then he paused.
"Lernen…"
"After all these years, I can tell—whether you really have no regrets, or if you're just avoiding burdening others."
"Even if tomorrow's hopeless, let's struggle to the end. That way, whatever happens, we won't have any regrets."
"…Denken."
Staring at his sincere friend, Lernen was at a loss for words.
He looked at the empty box of bottles and gave a bitter laugh.
"Even if I wanted to keep drowning in booze, I can't now. You drank it all… you bastard."
"But alright. I'll try it—struggling to the bitter end."
And with that, Lernen tossed aside his half-finished bottle and promptly fell asleep in his chair.
"Seriously?" Denken shook his head at the snoring man. "I said rest, not pass out in your chair."
"Well… the sofa's empty now. If you're not going to use it, I will."
...
The Next Day
Sunlight poured through the stained-glass windows of the grand palace, casting beautiful reflections across the floor.
But the peaceful atmosphere was broken by the sound of heated arguments.
Court Mages Denken and Lernen had arrived.
The clerk on morning shift immediately sensed disaster brewing.
And sure enough, they were here because of that matter concerning Lernen.
Even the clerk responsible for coordinating with the court mages could only offer a wry smile. This wasn't something decided under standard Imperial Law—this had come straight from the top.
He had no power here.
But Denk wasn't one to be dissuaded by that logic.
After a lengthy exchange of both persuasion and pressure, the clerk reluctantly agreed to relay their requests to the emperor—begging for reconsideration of Lernen's punishment.
Truthfully, after this whole ordeal, even the clerk had developed respect for Denken.
Still, not everything could be changed by persistence.
After a day of waiting, they received a formal written decree from the emperor—no longer just a signal.
Lernen was stripped of his title and office, and banned from ever entering the palace again.
But thanks to their efforts, one line was removed: the confiscation of all property.
So although Lernen had lost his noble status and position as a court mage, he retained a vast personal fortune—more than enough for a luxurious lifetime once he left Eiseberg.
Reading the decree, Lernen felt no more regret—only relief.
But Denken, not quite satisfied, began pestering the clerk again, requesting a personal audience with the emperor.
Seeing this, Lernen quickly pulled him back and apologized to the clerk before dragging his friend back to his office.
"…You've really made up your mind, haven't you?" Denken said quietly.
"Yes."
Lernen nodded solemnly. After one last struggle, he was truly at peace.
"No more pretending. I've 'struggled to the end,' ugly though it was."
"This result—I can live with."
"The emperor's decision is firm. Denken, don't throw away your own future for something already decided."
"You and I are different. You have a talent for dealing with people that rivals your gift for magic."
"…You really mean that?"
Seeing the sincerity in his friend's eyes, Denken looked away, then back again.
"What will you do now?"
"Hm…"
Lernen's eyes lit up as he grinned.
"Actually, I think I might have an answer."
"You know me, Denken—I'm hopeless with people. But in magic, I've always been confident."
"And yesterday, I got news."
"That legendary archmage from the Mythic Era—Serie—has made a public appearance in the city of Äußerst."
"She's founding something called the Continental Magic Association, to evaluate modern mages and recruit disciples."
"I think… this might be my one chance to climb the peak of magic."
"So I'm heading to Äußerst. I'll take the mage examination held by the association, and aim to become a disciple of Serie."
"That so… Not bad."
Denken nodded. If Lernen had found a new goal, he could rest easy.
But as the tension faded, Denken noticed something—the word Äußerst.
He cleared his throat.
And Lernen immediately twitched—he already knew what was coming.
Sure enough, Denken launched into his love story with his wife.
Especially their time in Äußerst.
Lernen, still single, listened with a bitter smile—but this time, something stirred inside him.
Maybe, once he was settled in Äußerst, he'd start looking for love too.
He was tired of hearing Denken brag without being able to share his own stories.
...
Meanwhile, in the Northern Nations — Äußerst
Inside a dilapidated little monastery, Gut was transcribing a folk tale from the Unified Empire era.
As he penned the final period of the story—
[Ding!]
[Daily Quest: Do a Good Deed – Complete]
He set down his pen, stretched out his body, and relaxed.
Then he casually drew today's reward.
[Random Reward Drawing… Complete]
[Congratulations! You've received: Lifespan +20 Years]
"…Huh?"
"Wait, what?!"
Thinking it was a junk reward, Gut had closed the interface—only to freeze in place.
He quickly reopened the System Space, scanning the prize in disbelief.
[Item Name: Lifespan +20 Years]
[Effect: Grants 20 additional years of life. During this time, the host's body and mind remain at peak condition. (Note: Only usable by the host. Non-transferable, non-divisible)]
It really… increased his lifespan.
Gut's hands trembled. He couldn't hide his excitement.
Another jackpot!
And in his mind, these twenty peak human years were even more valuable than the Magic Inheritance Scroll he'd drawn before.
Even with the restrictions, this was one of the most precious things in the world.
Across all of history, East or West, emperors and tycoons had sought long life in vain.
And theoretically…
If Lifespan items were in the Do a Good Deed prize pool, and Gut kept drawing—
Eventually, by the law of probability, he'd hit it again.
Over time, it could become a stable, recurring reward.
In other words…
Gut had possibly found a path to immortality.
If the reward cycle stayed below or matched his consumption…
He could live forever?
Shaking off the wild thoughts, Gut clicked Use, applying the 20 years immediately.
As the Lifespan icon faded from the system, he felt it—
Not just in his body, but in his soul. A warmth. A gentle tingle.
Like a wave of energy flowing through him, leaving him sharp, light, and alive.
If he had to summarize the experience in five characters, it'd be:
"So damn good."