In A Fantasy World I Can Absorbs Abilities

Late at night, Michael climbed the stairs, his body weighed down with fatigue after a lengthy meeting. Though he had outlined a plan to utilize the mages, he still doubted its feasibility.

As he reached the corridor at the top of the stairs, Alfred stood in his path.

"We need to go somewhere together," Alfred said.

Michael hesitated briefly before nodding. His grandfather wouldn't ask something harmful of him—there must be a reason.

The two mounted Marcus and soared into the sky, eventually arriving at an old graveyard where they had once dug up a mandrake.

"This is the burial ground for executioners of the old Holy Kingdom," Alfred explained. "Later, executioners from the Pamir Empire were also buried here."

Michael's eyes lit up. Executioners from both the Holy Kingdom and the Pamir Empire? Just recalling a few names, he was already overwhelmed by their renown.

"Does that mean the legendary reformer Arnan of the Holy Kingdom is buried here?" Michael asked eagerly.

"Exactly. The greatest genius of the Holy Kingdom and an emblem of misfortune," Alfred replied.

Michael remembered Arnan's legend—a man whose every reformative idea touched the Holy Kingdom's most sensitive nerve, ultimately leading to his execution.

"According to legend, he was buried beneath a stone engraved with the symbol of the saint he adored in life," Alfred added.

Carrying magical lamps, the two began searching for the saint's symbol. Time passed before Michael discovered an emblem shaped like an anemone flower. The two exchanged a glance, lifted the stone, and dug tirelessly into the ground.

Soon, a crumbling coffin emerged. Michael opened its lid, releasing a cloud of acrid dust. Inside lay a decayed corpse, its head and body separated.

Placing his hand on the brittle skull, Michael called out,

"Resurrectionis electio!"

The skull reattached itself to the body, flesh began regenerating, and a miraculous transformation unfolded. Moments later, a man with plain brown hair sat upright in the coffin, his sharp gaze fixed on Michael.

"Who awakened me? What is it you seek from me?" the man asked sternly.

Clutching his head as if overwhelmed, the man soon knelt before Michael.

"My apologies for not recognizing my lord immediately upon awakening. I am Arnan, a reformer from the Holy Kingdom, a man who once knew and understood all things."

Michael extended his hand to Arnan. With this man, he thought, he could fully utilize the mages.

The training grounds of Crassus Castle buzzed with activity early in the morning. It was packed with master-level mages ranked at Level 5 and above, along with their apprentices.

"Master, please sit down and have something to eat. You've been standing for too long—you'll harm your health," one apprentice pleaded.

"Sit? When the chance to ride a dragon is at stake? Look at those crazy old fools up front," the master grumbled. "I came here at one in the morning, and yet this is what I get."

"What else could we have done? Word has it that five masters pitched tents and camped out here as soon as Michael finished speaking yesterday. We underestimated them."

"Crazy old fools! That's what they are—crazy old fools!"

This was Elias, a master of the earth magic school, who staunchly believed he didn't belong in the "crazy old fool" category.

"Still, there's hope. What is our specialty? Earth magic. Surely, we'll be invaluable for the development of new territory, and we'll get to ride the dragon," his apprentice offered optimistically.

"That's the problem—we assumed that and ended up like this. Michael did say it would be first-come, first-served..."

"From what I've seen, Michael isn't an inflexible person. Negotiations should be possible," the apprentice reassured.

"You think so? Riding a dragon… what a rare experience that would be. Where else could we ever do such a thing?"

Similar conversations buzzed all around the grounds.

Meanwhile, Dionysus, one of the masters who had camped out last night, perked up his ears as he overheard the discussions.

"What? The earth magic school thinks they have an advantage? I won't stand for that!"

As a master of the water magic school, Dionysus couldn't help but feel insecure. Even he wasn't sure what role his school could play in developing new lands.

"Calm down, Master. That's why we came here first. We'll get to ride the dragon," his apprentice said reassuringly.

"Hmm, yes. Your suggestion to sleep here turned out to be brilliant. Well done," Dionysus said, his mood brightening.

The gates of the castle creaked open, prompting Dionysus to leap to his feet.

"They're coming out. Ugh, my back..." he groaned, as his apprentice Rahela gently patted his back.

Michael surveyed the mass of mages assembled on the training grounds and sighed.

Did they all want to ride a dragon so badly? It seemed every mage in the castle was here. Many even looked disheveled, as if they had slept here. Why were even the elderly so eager?

Nearby, Miaomiao, his feline companion, licked her paw and muttered,

[You've underestimated their thirst for knowledge. Mages would sell their souls to explore something new.]

"Yeah... I must've oversimplified things. Marcus?" Michael called.

Still groggy from the previous night's outing, Marcus mumbled,

[What is it?]

"It seems you'll need to make a few trips back and forth to the new territory. Can you handle it?"

Marcus yawned widely, extending a paw.

[As long as there's proper compensation, I don't mind.]

Michael shot a glare at Miaomiao. She had clearly corrupted Marcus with her influence!

"Of course. We can't have our precious Marcus working without compensation. How about charging 500 gold per mage? They're all quite wealthy and can afford it. I'll split the earnings with you. How's that sound?"

Michael ignored Miaomiao's look of shock as Marcus's eyes lit up.

[That's a great idea.]

But how much would 500 gold per mage add up to? Marcus tilted his head quizzically.

"Don't worry," Michael said with a grin, patting Marcus's wing. "I'll handle the calculations and make sure you're paid. Oh, by the way, Marcus, have you ever heard of investing? It's when ten gold turns into eleven over ten years..."@@novelbin@@