Chapter 12: Could He Really Be a Genius?

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City Defense Headquarters, Command Room.
Odemeier sat behind a desk, upon which lay the investigation report of last night’s explosion.
Beside the report were detailed files on Roland Lancelot.
Beneath Roland’s files lay a collection of seemingly unrelated intelligence summaries.
Though these reports had been presented to him the previous evening and he had already reviewed them thoroughly, Odemeier remained skeptical of some details in Roland’s dossier.
Yet the fact that this man single-handedly eliminated two fourth-rank mages last night strongly suggested that he very likely passed the Royal Capital Magic Academy’s rigorous assessment.
The Academy’s practical test did not prohibit the use of tools; however, any tools used had to be self-manufactured during the evaluation.
The explosion last night was confirmed to be caused by an imperial standard magic-guided pressure mine, though it appeared to have been modified and lacked the special steel seal from the military department.
The original mines certainly did not have any magical interference capabilities.
Disruption of magical energy flow prevented the timely activation of protective spells, which was the main reason the two fourth-rank mages were ambushed and killed.
The City Defense Army could not trace the origin of these two mines.
Although some standard equipment was available for exchange through the Adventurers’ Guild with imperial military sponsorship, Roland had never redeemed any such items.
The black market dealers had been investigated by the City Defense and the Inspection Bureau last night, but no purchase records linked to Roland were found.
Odemeier was not surprised by this; he knew well the true level of imperial equipment.
At least, mass-produced mines could not possibly be equipped with advanced magical interference features.
The armaments factory had to consider costs; the empire’s treasury was not limitless.
However, Odemeier did discover that Roland had independently purchased a book on the manufacture of magic-guided equipment and had also acquired some explosives on his own.
No matter how far-fetched the conclusion, Odemeier was forced to admit that this young man might truly be a genius.
Self-taught in rune engraving, capable of creating mines with power comparable to imperial standard ones, and adding functionality through rune inscriptions...
Moreover, relying solely on tools to pass a practical test that even ordinary fourth-rank mages might fail implied his personal strength far exceeded that of a typical second-rank mage.
A mage on the verge of seventh-rank transcendent status could not be judged merely by rank alone when it came to personal combat ability.
Especially in an age where rune-guided magical weapons were increasingly prevalent, external equipment could indeed compensate for significant gaps in combat power.

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What concerned Odemeier even more was that Roland seemed to know information about the Ulcered Madonna.
“I wonder if he might be the key to breaking this deadlock.”
“And the witch accompanying him... it seems there’s still hope for the situation.”
Odemeier lowered his gaze, glancing at a photo taken by a subordinate showing the sewers beneath Riscain.
The tunnels were teeming with rats, nearly filling the entire sewer system.
Although the City Defense swiftly cleared the rat infestation upon discovery, subsequent inspections and cleanup efforts were less successful.
The rats scattered as if controlled by someone, breaking into smaller groups and fleeing in all directions.
The rat extermination campaign was faltering, and according to informants, severe rodent problems were emerging in many city households.
Rat poison, sticky traps, and snap traps were nearly sold out.
Well-informed traveling merchants from neighboring areas had already begun stocking up to resell in Riscain.
Although these suddenly numerous rats showed no obvious abnormalities and appeared like normal rodents, Odemeier’s extensive experience taught him that sometimes the most abnormal things are those that appear normal amidst irregularities.
Under deliberate vigilance and investigation, the Inspection Bureau apprehended a furtive figure dressed in black at a warehouse near the docks.
The individual was a formidable third-rank mage.
Surrounded by the Inspection Bureau and City Defense forces, he offered no resistance but immediately committed suicide, detonating a small magical source within his body. The ensuing magical explosion destroyed his corpse and nearly all his belongings.
Despite this, the capture team managed to find a small, charred fragment of paper in the crater left by the blast.
Only a few indistinct characters remained on it.
After restoration, Odemeier discerned the words "Ulcered Madonna."
What aroused suspicion further was that the governor, who usually took little interest in city defense matters, had inquired specifically about that day’s dock warehouse incident.
Had it been a routine inquiry, Odemeier would not have been so doubtful—after all, an incident at the docks was a significant event for a harbor city like Riscain.
Yet, the governor did not ask about structural damage, casualties, or when the lockdown would be lifted to resume normal operations.
He asked only one question—did the City Defense find anything in the warehouse?
Odemeier exhaled deeply.

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He knew something was unfolding in Riscain, but beyond that, he was at a loss.
All he could do was tighten patrols and accelerate intelligence gathering by the Inspection Bureau.
A week had passed with no breakthroughs; apart from a crackdown on petty thieves and gangsters, no clues had emerged—until last night.
“Why isn’t that brat here yet? It’s almost noon!”
The colonel, who had been waiting in the command room for Roland all morning, was now somewhat irritated.
Young people these days were so disrespectful! Did they think he would not come if summoned?
He should have made the message clearer from the start.
Just as Odemeier was thinking this, his adjutant knocked and entered. “Colonel, your guests have arrived.”
“Mm, let them in,” Odemeier quickly shifted his expression, straightened his posture, and put on a deliberately kind smile, wiping away the fleeting look of displeasure from his face.
The adjutant nodded and stepped aside, motioning politely for them to enter.
Roland and Kalia walked into the command room one after the other.
Unlike Roland, who first surveyed the room’s layout, Kalia immediately spotted the colonel smiling and looking at them.
After staring at him for a moment, Kalia leaned close to Roland’s ear and whispered, “Roland, that old man’s smile looks really forced, and he’s staring at us.”
Roland glanced at the man Kalia meant and replied dryly, “Kalia, that’s Colonel Odemeier.”
Kalia: “...”
Odemeier: “...”
The smile vanished from Odemeier’s face as he cleared his throat and took the initiative to steer the conversation.
“Ah, welcome to you both.”
“Mr. Roland, I know you’ve accepted my commission. The payment is ready. I hope your answer will satisfy me.”
“Now, let’s move to a quieter place for discussion. Follow me.”
With that, Odemeier pressed a button beneath the desk, and a hidden door opened behind him.
“Please, this way.”