Raising the Northern Grand Duchy as a Max-Level All-Master

The makeshift bed in the underground lab wasn’t particularly large—spacious for one person but a bit cramped for two. It was on this bed that I awoke.

The gentle glow of magical lights and the warmth of enchanted heating devices protected the lab from the darkness and chill of the underground space.

Between the contrasting cold and warmth, I opened my eyes.

Though it was a morning like any other, today felt remarkably different.

It was as if something that had been weighing me down had finally disappeared.

“...”

I turned my head to the empty spot beside me.

The Duchess of the Snowfield, who had shared such an intimate night with me from late afternoon until the early morning hours, had left quietly. Perhaps embarrassed, she had limped back to the High Tower at dawn.

Even though I had been aware of her departure in my half-asleep state, I hadn’t stopped her.

With disheveled hair, I got up and left the lab.

After a quick wash on the second floor and a change of clothes, I moved to the third floor, mentally organizing my plans for the day.

‘Today marks the first operation of the magic engine factory. I should head there first… or should I visit Arina before that? And how am I supposed to act around her now?’

A wave of awkwardness and uncertainty suddenly washed over me as I paced back and forth.

Was this how Arina had felt earlier this morning?

“What’s got you pacing like that?”

“Ah! You startled me!”

The sudden voice of an old man pulled me from my thoughts.

I turned to find none other than Yulkanes, the master of the Empire’s Golden Tower of Magic, lounging casually in my room. This was only the second time I’d met him since the Devil’s Den incident.

“How... How did you get here? And when?”

“If you’re asking ‘how,’ I used teleportation magic. As for ‘when,’ I arrived about five minutes ago in the backyard,” Yulkanes answered calmly.

“...Is there no restriction on that teleportation magic of yours?”

“Restrictions? Plenty.”

Even an 8th-circle Archmage couldn’t use teleportation magic freely. Not even with the advancements of the Arcanepunk era or the assistance of top-tier magical artifacts. ꭆ𝓪𝐍𝘖βΕṥ

“To teleport again, I’d need nearly a year to gather enough mystic energy, and I’d have to send my familiar to the destination beforehand.”

Hoot, hoot!

Right on cue, an owl’s call echoed from outside the window—a familiar belonging to Yulkanes.

‘Wait, didn’t I install alarm artifacts around the house?’

I glanced at the bracelet on my wrist, which confirmed that the alarm for a familiar approach had been triggered.

‘Ah… I must’ve been too distracted to notice.’

The lingering effects of last night’s passion had clearly dulled my senses. The reproductive instinct was truly formidable.

“You lived during the Golden Age, and yet you didn’t know this?” Yulkanes asked with a sly smile.

“My specialty is crafting magical artifacts. Even during the Golden Age, teleportation was a high-level technique, and its mechanics varied greatly depending on the user. I assumed an Archmage like you would know that,” I retorted, using my fabricated background to turn the tables.

“Oh? I see.”

“...?”

Judging by his reaction, it seemed I had just revealed some ancient knowledge that wasn’t yet discovered in this era.

“Well then, I suppose the only question left is why.”

With a sigh, I decided to steer the conversation forward. At least I had learned something useful about his teleportation conditions.

“Why did you come here?”

“Because my teleportation magic was ready to use again,” Yulkanes said with a shrug.

“...I doubt you came all this way just because your magic ‘cooled down.’”

“‘Cooled down?’”

“It’s… a term that refers to a magic spell being ready for use again.”

“Ah, concise and clear. I like it.”

“Anyway, why did you come here?”

“I wanted to have a chat. Perhaps learn a thing or two from an ancient sage.”

As Yulkanes spoke, my thoughts turned to the magic engine factory.

‘The airships and giant golems are being developed secretly in my territory, so he shouldn’t know about them. The factory preparations, however... how much does he know?’

Keeping that in mind, I chose my words carefully.

“Go ahead. Speak your mind.”

I nodded slightly, signaling him to continue.

“Could you... lend me some money? I’ve heard Arad Capital offers loans at low interest rates.”

“???”

“If not directly, perhaps you could ask Entir Bishop to arrange something.”

…Wow. Capitalism had brought an 8th-circle Archmage to his knees. For a moment, I felt an odd sense of pride.

“Ahem! The Emperor and Crown Prince are still opposed to magic engines, you see. They’re entirely focused on steam engines and industrialization because they can see the immediate results.”

His explanation felt like an extension of the conversation we had back at the Devil’s Den.

“The Imperial family’s indifference to magic engines is consistent. But isn’t southern expansion more important at the moment?” I asked.

“True.”

“Have your efforts to expand south been blocked?”

“From the Empire, yes. The Imperial family offers no support—not the Emperor, nor the Crown Prince. They’re both the same in this regard.”

“I see.”

The Empire’s self-sabotaging behavior—their obsession with steampunk tech and their inability to prioritize southern expansion—left me sighing.

“...Would you lower that hand covering your mouth?” Yulkanes frowned as he spoke.

Reluctantly, I lowered my hand. My lips, pulled into a grim frown, came into view.

“Genuinely disappointed, are you? I suppose if the southern expansion stalls, you won’t be able to acquire that rubber you need.”

Yulkanes clicked his tongue, evidently reading the wrong signals from my expression.

In truth, I had quickly shifted my face to look distressed before lowering my hand.

‘Good. He doesn’t know that we’re producing magic engines ourselves using Jörmungandr’s scales.’

Internally, I was grinning triumphantly. The fact that our security remained airtight filled me with satisfaction.

“A country that’s too large, prosperous, and wealthy can become its own worst enemy,” I mused aloud.

“Is that so? Hmm… I suppose it makes sense. Bardenheim, after all, has shown more interest in southern expansion than the Empire ever has.”

Colonial expansion and the Age of Exploration were, after all, products of desperate nations struggling to survive.

Like ancient China, where abundant resources and a vast population deprioritized the Age of Exploration and colonization, the Empire—a continent-spanning powerhouse with unmatched resources—had little interest in southern expansion or colonies.

For the current Emperor, strengthening imperial authority, curbing the power of the Church and the aristocracy, and absorbing the North into the Empire took precedence over everything else.

“Well, as you suggested earlier, couldn’t you use the United Kingdom as a platform for southern expansion?” I asked.

“That’s easier said than done,” Yulkanes replied, shaking his head. “You know what the United Kingdom is like, don’t you? A patchwork of former enemies who reluctantly banded together because of the looming threat of the Empire.”

“Ah… So each kingdom is handling southern expansion separately?”

“Exactly. Capital, technology, magic—all being prepared independently.”

“But I’ve heard mages have a certain... unity that transcends borders?”

“Even unity can’t overcome budget and time. Just as you can’t escape death or taxes, no mage can escape the limits of funding and time.”

The southern continent, home to elves and dwarves exiled from Arcadia, was notoriously hostile toward humans.

They had erected massive magical barriers along the coastlines to repel any human invaders.

To break these barriers, nearly all of Arcadia’s magical and financial resources would need to be mobilized.

‘Of course, we plan to bypass those barriers entirely by taking to the skies.’

I shrugged nonchalantly and asked, “So, how much money do you need?”

“...This much,” Yulkanes said, handing me a prepared ledger without hesitation.

“...”

Glancing at the astronomical sum, I suddenly understood why the Emperor found this old man so troublesome.

“There’s no way Arad Capital could manage this amount,” I said flatly.

Perhaps it was because Yulkanes spent his days cooped up in the Golden Tower, but he seemed to have no grasp of financial reality.

His concept of money was practically nonexistent. If I had to compare, it was like tossing a whole gold coin for a bowl of stew in a shabby inn.

“Lies! You’ve got money, don’t you? It’s said that nearly all the money on the continent flows toward Arad and Bishop these days!”

“Even if we sold both Arad and Bishop, we couldn’t gather this much.”

“Hmm...? Is it that bad?”

Yulkanes slumped visibly in disappointment.

“Even if the Imperial family, the Church, and the aristocracy pooled their resources, they’d barely cover 70% of this amount.”

Despite the recent influx of wealth into Renslet, we were still nowhere near the scale of the Empire’s coffers.

The primary reason Rensletians lived wealthier lives compared to Imperial citizens was simple: a smaller population, little to no aristocratic culture, and active wealth redistribution.

“You’ll have to negotiate with the Imperial family,” I suggested.

“Negotiate?”

“From what I’ve observed, the Emperor may oppose magic engines, but I doubt he’s entirely against southern expansion.”

“...That’s true.”

As expected, there was something he wasn’t telling me.

“Then why is negotiation unrealistic?” I asked.

“The Emperor’s condition was to establish an academy dedicated to nurturing mage engineers. No cap on enrollment. Any talented child must be accepted,” Yulkanes explained.

“And why is that a problem?”

I tilted my head in confusion. We’d been doing exactly that in the North for years.

“Of course, I’m in favor of it. But everyone else in the Imperial Tower opposes it. No, scratch that—even the mage towers across Arcadia are against it,” Yulkanes admitted.

“Even an 8th-circle mage is getting pushback?”

Yulkanes nodded and continued, “If the number of mage engineers increases, the value of mages will decrease. And the cost of producing magical artifacts will drop as well.”

“...”

“Once I thought about it, I couldn’t argue with their reasoning. It’s not like I can guarantee their livelihoods either.”

I immediately understood the issue.

‘So this is the magical equivalent of medical school quotas.’

I clicked my tongue internally.

“But we’re already producing mage engineers en masse in the North,” I pointed out.

“I know. My apprentices see that as a catastrophe. They claim the laws of magic are being trampled.”

Yulkanes sighed deeply, disappointment etched on his face.

“When I reached the 8th circle, I thought I’d be free to research magic without these petty political struggles... But here I am.”

For a moment, the weariness of an Archmage constantly caught between conflicting interests was laid bare.

“Well…”

I offered a token reaction, devoid of any real sympathy.

‘Sure, his situation’s unfortunate, but so what?’

There wasn’t much I could do for him.

Not that I wanted to help him in the first place.

‘And for all I know, this could just be an act to squeeze something out of me.’

There was a significant gap between the Yulkanes I had met in the Devil’s Den and the one sitting before me now. Even his speech patterns seemed slightly different.

It was highly likely he was feigning vulnerability to provoke sympathy and extract concessions.

‘You’re trying to bait the wrong person.’

I stared at the slouched master of the Golden Tower with cold, dispassionate eyes before steering the conversation in a new direction.

“By the way, have you mentioned anything about me? Like my trip to the Devil’s Den?”

“I haven’t said a word. If I did, they’d accuse me of either kidnapping you or failing to kill you. Why would I invite that headache?”

“Surely not. You’re an 8th-circle mage, after all.”

“Thanks to this steam engine nonsense, I’ve become nothing more than a money sink overnight. My apprentices and I... our standing isn’t what it used to be.”

Listening to his transparent complaints, a thought crossed my mind.

‘Could it be…?’

It felt like Yulkanes’ loyalty to the Empire had weakened significantly.@@novelbin@@

“How about seeking asylum in Renslet?”

I cautiously floated the idea.