Supreme Magus novel Chapter 441

The group spent the morning interrogating more witnesses, but neither Jirni’s wits nor Tista’s charm managed to find anything that could further the investigation.

"Embezzlement, illegal gambling, fencing. All things that would make today a field day if they weren’t completely irrelevant for the task at hand!" Jirni cursed in frustration.

To add insult to injury, no made mage had appeared since they had defeated the merchant the previous day. It left them with only one shot at cracking the mystery behind the specimen still stored inside the quarantine array.

"Did you learn anything useful from that meatball?" She asked Manohar.

"Many things. First, keeping it alive requires a steady supply of mana and flesh. Second, it uses part of the mana to convert the flesh it consumes into its own and the rest gets stored somehow. Third..."

"Lith?" She cut him short, since Manohar seemed unable to understand the "useful" part.

"Not much. We know that whoever made it is a genius and that they employ Forbidden Magic. So far we have no clue about its purpose or how to track its source." He replied, making her sigh.

"There isn’t much we can do right now. You three get back to the lab and please bring me good news. Mage Felhorn and I have been summoned by Marquis Lanza, Othre’s ruler. He doesn’t seem too happy with our results."

"Did he really expect us to solve the case in one day? Why not also demand that we turn hay into gold while he is at it?" Tista said sarcastically.

"Before our arrival, he was the one the Crown held accountable for the ongoing crisis. I guess the old coot is eager to put the blame on us and wash his hands of the problem. Keep me posted, I’ll do the same."

***

Once they reached the Marquis’ office, both Jirni and Dorian had a clear idea of what to expect.

"So much for your experts, Felhorn. In less than 24 hours they managed to ruin months of my hard work! The Crown will be informed of it and believe me, they will not be pleased." Lanza said while smoothing his black mustaches.

The Marquis was a man in his late fifties, around 1.67 meters (5’6") tall, with greying black hair and a wide belly that was a testament to his love for good food. Despite the cold weather and an open window, he was sweating profusely.

His vast amount of excess body fat helped Lady Ernas to make up her mind.

’Today I’ll have roasted pork for lunch.’ She thought while pondering which side dish was better suited for her meal while she pretended to listen to his rants.

"At least while I supervised the investigation, the collateral damage while handling the made mages was minimal. You allowed a single one to burn down a whole building in broad daylight! Do you have any idea how many lives you have destroyed? Or the panic you have caused?" He lied through his teeth.

Made mages had done plenty of damage already, and their victims’ body count had reached the double digits. The only differences with the Marquis’s crisis management were that the made mages would die at the first spell and the victims would be forced into silence.

"Winter is coming and I have six families that have lost everything, without even a place to live. Merchants came to me claiming the fire has destroyed hundreds of silver coins worth of merchandise. Who is going to pay for that?" The Marquis’ voice was outraged, but his grin told another story.

’The bigger their failure, the more negligible mine will appear in comparison.’ He thought.

"The Association will cover all the expenses." Dorian said with a nod of his head.

’I bet a good part of that money will end up his pockets.’ Was what he actually thought.

"It’s the least you can do." The Marquis said.

"Your incompetence has caused incalculable losses to Othre’s establishments. Now everyone knows about made mages. People are so scared that they prefer to stay at home all day rather than risk their lives.