Genius Gamer Reborn into a Family of Heroes

Chapter 82

Staff, Mityel

The legendary staff, Mityel, said to have summoned a meteor.

Its name alone made it seem immensely valuable, but Natalen had this to say:

_”Actually, that staff is super cheap and, well… a little—no, very lousy! So, don’t even think about wanting to have it. Got it?”_

But Harang had the mindset of a contrarian. Being told that only made him want it even more.

And to top it off, a staff that no one had possessed for 109 years… For someone like Harang, who had always craved attention, it was an irresistible mascot.

As Harang entered the magic tool shop, he looked around. There were all sorts of fascinating magical items, from crystal skulls emitting violet steam to staffs floating in mid-air.

_”Oh, this is…”_

Harang reached out toward a clicking crystal skull, but before he could touch it, a voice called out from behind.

_”Ha! Curious little customer, aren’t you? I’d advise not touching that one.”_

Frozen mid-reach, Harang turned his head. A middle-aged man, looking to be in his early to mid-forties, walked out from the back of the shop.

That man was none other than the staff artisan Avon Carlton, the current protector of Mityel.

_”I once made a magical tool that detoxifies all poisons, but, well, it ended up absorbing every kind of poison and transferring it to anyone who touched it. If you’re confident you can handle that, feel free to touch it, but you’d likely die. Especially someone like you—a little kid—wouldn’t last five seconds before turning into a gooey slime.”_

_”…”_

After hearing Avon’s words, Harang looked back at the crystal skull.

Through the Eyes of Truth, he already knew what the skull was. But even more intriguing was another message that caught his attention.

_[Eyes of Truth suggests that it would be beneficial to grab the crystal skull.]_

This was a new piece of advice, offered by the Eyes of Truth, which had recently gained wisdom as Harang leveled up.

The Eyes of Truth always had analytical capabilities, but now, with added wisdom, it meant something deeper: it could combine available information and produce outcomes Harang hadn’t even considered.

_’So, based on my current condition and that magical tool, it’s better to grab it, huh? Well, if Eyes of Truth says so, then I trust it.’_

_[Eyes of Truth expresses displeasure at being called ‘Eyesy’…]_

Ignoring the next message from the Eyes of Truth, Harang swiftly grabbed the skull.

_”Oh no, what on earth!”_
Avon was shocked as violet mist billowed out of the skull.

Fwoosh…!

The mist seeped into Harang’s body, but he didn’t panic and calmly accepted it.

He closed his eyes and waited for a brief moment before a small message appeared.

_[You have ingested the poison-resistant antibody “Heavenly Thousand Poisons”.]_

_[You have absorbed a thousand poisons under the heavens and withstood them, so from now on, no deadly poison can harm your body.]_

Having absorbed the violet mist, Harang let out a single bead of sweat and exhaled deeply.

_”Haaa…”_

A faint violet breath escaped his mouth as his body adapted to the changes.

[By absorbing a thousand types of poison, you have acquired antibodies, greatly increasing your magic power and stats!]

The deadly poisons had been searing hot, but after accepting and purifying them, making them mine, the sensation had turned into a cool energy.

“Heh, would you look at that?”

Avon’s eyes widened, as if in disbelief.

Most of the mages who visited this place were highly curious but also smart enough not to mess with such dangerous objects.

He had just left it lying there, thinking no one would dare touch it—and now, this kid had gone and grabbed it, leaving Avon certain he’d lose another promising talent in a flash…!

“Not only did you absorb a thousand deadly poisons, but you dissolved them into pure mana and accepted it fully….”

Avon, the creator of that magical artifact, knew better than anyone just how difficult it was to extract pure mana from within the toxic fumes. That’s why Harang’s feat was nothing short of astonishing.

“Kuhuhu, it’s been a while since such an interesting guest has dropped by. Your stride and mannerisms didn’t seem like a mage’s at all, but now that I look at you… You’re a mage to your very bones. What’s your name, boy?”

“…Deis. It’s an honor to meet you, Sir Avon Carlton.”

“‘Sir’ is a bit much, lad. Sure, I’m smart and talented, but these days, I’m nothing more than a small shopkeeper, am I not?”

Harang met Avon’s gaze. His eyes were strangely deep, as though he could see right through Harang’s secrets.

“Heh, kid. You’re no ordinary mage, are you?”

“…How did you know?”

“A sage like me can tell at a glance, you little runt.”

Even Harang, who usually kept a perfect poker face, couldn’t help but show a slight flicker of surprise.

Had his identity been exposed?

No, that wasn’t much of an issue.

He had always been aware that his noticeable actions would eventually lead to someone pointing out his true identity and suspicious nature, sooner or later.

What truly surprised him was the fact that Avon referred to himself as a “Great Sage.”

The title of Great Sage could only be earned by mastering at least 9-star magic, magic so wondrous, mysterious, and wise that not even the gods beyond the skies could replicate it.

Considering there were fewer than ten individuals on the entire Astera Continent with such a title, the middle-aged man standing before him was… an extraordinary giant among giants.

‘In that case, of course, exposing my identity is nothing to be concerned about…’

Harang bowed respectfully, but without groveling too much.

“I apologize for not being able to reveal my true name.”

“Ka-hahaha! No need to worry. You’re doing it because of those bastards from the Five Great Magic Families, right? Haha, don’t fret. I hate those jerks too. I won’t go blabbing about you, as long as you don’t cause any trouble in this city.”

“I don’t have the power for that, nor do I intend to, so you don’t need to worry.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re very… ‘pure.’ I can sense it.”

“…?”

Harang didn’t understand what that meant, but he quickly tried to change the subject.

“I thought you were just a staff maker, but I’m really surprised.”

“If I were only that, I wouldn’t have been able to protect my master’s staff from the greedy hands of other mages. A master craftsman can forge a great sword alone, but a great staff always requires the help of a brilliant mage.”

“Did you say… your master?”

“Yeah, yeah. My master was the last mage to wield Mityel 109 years ago, ‘John Ariach.’ Surprised? Isn’t that fascinating? Khehehe, most people have no idea about this, so they all look at me wide-eyed like you just did!”

“…”

Harang nodded, genuinely shocked. Seeing this, Avon threw his head back, laughing gleefully as he covered his face with his large hand.

“Kuhuhuhu, this feels great! After staring at old men every day, looking at a cute little kid like you is like cleansing my eyes! It’s been a while since someone with a pure and upright soul has come by, and turns out, it’s a child!”

“…Is being too young a problem?”

“No! It’s actually better. I’ve rarely had such young visitors, but most of them went on to become world-renowned mages within a few decades. You’ll likely do the same.”

“I still… have a long way to go.”

“Haha, modesty from someone like you? My little hobby is giving my personally crafted magical artifacts to those pure and promising enough to achieve greatness with magic.”

Avon stretched his arms wide, speaking with excitement, but then his expression suddenly became serious, and he raised a single finger.

“To get it, though, there’s one important test you have to fail. You know that, right?”

What a ridiculous notion. Not to pass, but to fail a test.

But maybe it made sense. From Avon’s perspective, just entering his shop was already proof enough of one’s abilities.

The test he spoke of was…

“Now, go and resonate with ‘Mityel.’ I can’t wait to see it!”

…to see if Harang could resonate with the staff left behind by Natalen, determining if he was worthy of wielding it.

Harang felt a slight tension but also a quiet excitement.

‘After all, I’m a disciple of Master Natalen. Wouldn’t it respond to me?’

He had mastered Mythic Descent magic, and his mana was incredibly pure. While he didn’t know exactly what Mityel’s conditions were, with this much, he should be able to pass most staff trials with ease.

“This way.”

As Harang followed Avon down to the basement, he felt a strange sense of spatial distortion and glanced around.

“Hoho, your intuition is sharp.”

“Did you warp the space?”

“Exactly! Your observation is keen! And look at your eyes, they shine so beautifully like the stars in the night sky! I’m tempted to pluck one and keep it!”

Harang decided to ignore the rather murderous joke.

“The first time I’ve ever seen a wizard distort the entire basement of an intact building…”

“Impressive, isn’t it? Amazing, right? Not just anyone can do this. Haha, these days, even the grand towers are trying to copy my workshop. But since old wizards who visit here don’t seem to be surprised anymore, I’ve been a bit bored. Your reaction is so fresh and lively, it really lifts my spirits!”

“The grand towers mobilize countless spatial wizards to set up formations across vast coordinates, investing astronomical amounts of magic stones, don’t they? The level of their magic compared to yours, Mr. Avon, is just on a completely different scale.”

“Ahahaha!”

Avon truly seemed delighted. His steps as he descended the stairs were even more childlike than Harang’s, who was only fourteen.

Despite Avon’s excitement, Harang kept being distracted by sheer curiosity, unintentionally slowing his pace.

The countless magical artifacts on display and the mysterious spells woven throughout the entire building…

Each one captivated Harang’s attention as if casting a spell on him.

“Ah…”

Staring blankly at a lamp on the wall, Harang was so mesmerized that he didn’t even notice the lens spell in his eyes dissolving. Seeing this, Avon patiently waited for him.

‘Pure curiosity… truly a rare sight these days.’

What exactly is a wizard?

Everyone defines it differently, but Avon called a wizard ‘one who eternally leaves knowledge behind.’

How about Natalen, the legendary ‘Wizard Who Paints Stories,’ known as the master of Mityel?

He defined a true wizard as ‘one who forever holds curiosity and imagines.’

In that sense, wasn’t that little kid exactly the kind of true wizard that the great sage Natalen had in mind?

‘I can’t even remember the last time I had such pure curiosity.’

Most wizards who visited here were like that. In their youth, they were full of curiosity, digging into everything and striving to uncover truth and knowledge.

But as time passed, they sought higher circle magic, more advanced levels, and stronger, more powerful spells, pushing such curiosity to the back of their minds.

It wasn’t that no one had any curiosity left, but they suppressed it.

The desire to resonate with the legendary artifact, Mityel, had overwhelmed their curiosity…

‘Anyone would want to get their hands on Mityel as soon as possible. Or maybe they’d want one of my handcrafted magical artifacts.’

Harang, however, showed none of those desires. He took a full six hours to descend the mere ten floors of stairs.

No one would dare call that a ‘waste of time.’ If anyone ever uttered such words, Avon would never forgive them.

The time Harang was experiencing now was so pure and precious that even Avon, who had earned the title of a great sage, found himself envious of it…

“Heh heh, that kid… Wasn’t he trying to hide those silver eyes of his? It’s been revealed for a while now, and he still hasn’t noticed. Let’s see… I should gift him a special lens, one so discreet that even a 9-star wizard wouldn’t detect it!”

When Harang finally reached the lowest basement floor, he squeezed his eyes shut.

“So, how does it feel? Are you ready now?”

“…Yes, I apologize for making you wait so long.”

“Haha! It’s fine. All this old recluse does is watch you kids grow anyway.”

With that, Avon snapped his fingers. The massive dome surrounding the basement split open, revealing what lay inside.

There was nothing but a wide, empty space. However, one peculiar thing stood out—a single staff floating in mid-air.

At first glance, it looked like a simple, ordinary staff. It was black with a round object hanging from the end, lacking any elaborate decorations, dazzling gems, or finely engraved magic circles.

Even the black color was the most common shade among staffs.

It was a color that could easily masquerade as both luxurious and plain without any special crafting.

But Harang sensed that the silver light coming from the staff was on a completely different level from other ordinary black staffs.

It was a shade so dark it seemed to absorb all light, as if it were the depth of an abyss.

“The test is simple. Go ahead and grab it. If Mityel rejects you, it will push you away.”

Avon didn’t bother explaining what would happen if Mityel accepted him. After all, no one had been deemed worthy for over a hundred years, so he didn’t feel the need to elaborate.

While Avon acknowledged that Harang was indeed special, he still doubted that the staff would choose him.

But Harang was confident.

The reason Mityel hadn’t chosen an owner in 109 years was that it had been waiting for him.

With bold steps, Harang approached Mityel and reached out firmly.

THUNK!

“…Ugh?!”

[The artifact, ‘Mityel,’ fiercely rejects you!]

BAM!!

He was violently thrown back, crashing into the wall.

Rustle… Thud!

As the broken bricks and dust fell onto Harang’s head, Avon chuckled softly and approached him.

“You went flying quite painfully. Are you alright?”

Just as Avon was about to pat Harang on the back, he hesitated when he saw the calm look in Harang’s eyes.

“…Mr. Avon.”

“Yes, speak.”

“I can keep trying until it works, right?”

“There’s no rule against it… but just trying repeatedly doesn’t guarantee success.”

“No, I think it’ll work.”

Though he wore a slight smile, his expression looked as if he was filled with rage.

Harang stood up, brushed off the dust from his pants, and cracked his neck and shoulders with a pop!

“I’m not leaving this place until I beat that damn staff half to death.”

Avon couldn’t bring himself to say that a staff, being an inanimate object, couldn’t actually die.