"Kyaaaak!"
Jorge let out a joyful squeal upon entering Hadesʼs experimental workshop in Agamemnon Castle.
Feynen, who guided him, broke into a cold sweat with a troubled expression.
The sight of an elderly white-haired mage jumping around and squealing like a teenage girl was somehow rather unusual.
"Ma, Master Jorge. Iʼm sorry, but could you please be a bit quieter..."
"Kyaaaak! Magician Feynen! What in the world is all this? How can such precious treasures be scattered everywhere like this? Kyaaaak!"
Master Jorge, the family head of Nirvana, panted as he gazed at the various devices in Hadesʼs workshop.
Seeing Jorgeʼs flushed face and heavy breathing, Feynen couldnʼt help but doubt if this was really the renowned family head of Nirvana.
As Jorge continued his fuss, he staggered as if his legs had given out upon reaching the ultra-high-density mana analyzer that had been loaned to him for free.
"Hah, hah. Yes, itʼs because of you that I came all this way. My pretty one."
Jorge trembled as he ran his palm over the surface of the ultra-high-density mana analyzer.
Gelion, who stood behind him, watched with goosebumps prickling his skin.
He whispered to Feynen.
"Feynen, is it really okay to lend something like that to Nirvana?"
"...Our lord must have his reasons."
As the two exchanged uneasy glances and whispered, a voice cut in.
"Whatʼs with this pervert?"
Hades, who had apparently pulled an all-nighter on experiments the previous day, floated over with dark circles under his eyes.
Jorge, who had been roughly stroking the ultra-high-density mana analyzer while breathing heavily, lit up at the sight of Hades.
"Wow! You must be that mysterious genius developer, Master Hades, right? Hah, hah. Iʼm a fan. Let me see... I need to get an autograph... Yes! Sign here, please!" Jorge pulled a staff from his bosom and held it out to Hades.
Hades wrinkled his nose at the dusty, grimy staff.
"Is Zeke crazy? Are we taking perverts now?"
At those words, Feynen hurriedly interjected in alarm.
"Th-thatʼs Master Hades! Heʼs the family head of Nirvana, Master Jorge." To the dragonkin Hades, all humans were insignificant beings.
But they couldnʼt outright call Hades a dragon, so Feynen had no choice but to introduce Jorge while flattering him as much as possible.
Hades, who had adapted somewhat to the current era, looked at Jorge with curiosity upon hearing he was the family head of Nirvana, one of the three great transcendent families.
"The family head of Nirvana, huh. Hmm, hiding your mana from my eyes. You may be a pervert, but youʼve got some skill."
Hades was currently known to the outside world as an elf, and Feynen and Gelion stayed on edge, fearing he might unconsciously reveal his true identity.
Oblivious to their concerns, Jorge bowed politely at Hadesʼs words.
"Compared to a master elf who has lived for ages, my experience is woefully lacking and my skills insufficient."
Seeing Jorgeʼs unexpectedly humble demeanor despite his first impression, Hades took a liking to him.
He raised a finger and swiftly drew a signature in the air.
The signature etched itself onto the staff Jorge held out.
Then, yawning, Hades gestured for them to leave as if he wanted to sleep.
"I need some rest. Donʼt make noise and go play outside."
With that, Hades flopped onto the bed he had set up in one corner of the workshop.
Feynen and Gelion werenʼt bold enough to disturb a sleeping dragon, so they led Jorge out of the workshop.
Jorge clutched the staff with Hadesʼs autograph, grinning like a child.
"Hehehe, if I take this back, the other old fogeys in the family will die of envy." He felt the trip to this distant place had been worth it.
The mages of Nirvana were notoriously lazy, but when it came to magic, they moved faster than anyone.
When the extraordinary terms for participating in the Continental Grand Council were relayed through Xeros, the Round Table of Nirvana erupted in chaos.
Those who usually paid no heed to continental affairs argued fiercely over who would represent them at the council.
Their desire for the ultra-high-density mana analyzer was that intense.
In the end, the mages on the Round Table who expressed interest agreed to decide by drawing lots fairly.
And the one drawn was the family head himself, Jorge.
The thought of using the ultra-high-density mana analyzer for free for a year made Jorge grin uncontrollably without realizing it.
"Kehehehel! When the old fogeys ask to borrow it, what terms should I set? Make them bark like dogs while sitting, or roll over and act cute?"
Feynen and Gelion shook their heads at Jorgeʼs strange cackling and guided him to Zekeʼs office.
If Jorge had visited Mycenae as the family head of Nirvana, they would have had to observe full protocol and etiquette, but since he had slipped in just to see the ultrahigh-density mana analyzer, no such formalities were needed.
Moreover, Jorge had insisted on personally thanking Zeke for the generous loan and requested to be shown to the office.
It was quite an unconventional move for the head of one of the three great transcendent families of the continent.
Feynen, looking tense, informed Zeke of the visitorʼs identity before opening the office door and entering.
As soon as they stepped inside, Jorge bent at the waist, rubbing his hands together as he approached Zeke.
"Oh dear, our benefactor... no, Knight of Salvation Sir Zeke!"
Feynen and Gelion couldnʼt help but panic at Jorgeʼs exaggerated fawning toward Zeke.
Zeke, who had been preparing to greet him, and Xeros, who stood beside him, were equally taken aback.
Ignoring the awkward atmosphere, Jorge continued with a beaming smile.
"My goodness! Youʼre even more handsome in person than the rumors say! If I had a daughter, Iʼd marry her off to you right away. But as a man wedded to magic, I have no wife or children. Heh heh heh!"
Xeros squeezed his eyes shut at Jorgeʼs hearty laughter.
He hadnʼt expected the head of a transcendent family like Draker or Ishtar to carry such dignity, but he never imagined it would be this pathetic. At that moment, Jorge looked like a street con artist or a sideshow magician.
In fact, that was exactly how Feynen and Gelion saw him.
But Zeke saw through Jorgeʼs jovial facade to his true essence.
A vast wave of soul, endlessly expanding and circulating without falter.
Zeke could clearly sense that Jorge was an archmage who had reached the 9th Circle.
Zeke bowed toward Jorge.
"I greet Master Jorge, family head of Nirvana." It was a flawless, courteous greeting.
He continued. "Please, come this way. Iʼve prepared some fine tea since the family head has honored Mycenae with his visit."
"Oh! Tea is wonderful. Heh heh heh!"
Zeke led the chuckling Jorge to the reception room.
Feynen and Gelion returned to the workshop, and Xeros slipped away after a glance.
In the end, only Zeke and Jorge sat in the reception room, sipping tea.
Jorge lifted his cup, savoring the aroma of the tea Zeke had brewed.
"Mmm, excellent. Is this from the Ishtar family?"
Zeke looked surprised at Jorgeʼs words.
"Yes, it is. Have you tried Ishtar tea before?"
Jorge slowly sipped and waved his hand dismissively.
"No, I havenʼt tasted it. But I sensed something like the Ishtar familyʼs scent? Aroma?
Something along those lines, so I mentioned it." Hearing Jorgeʼs words, Zeke had a hunch.
He suspected that as Jorge's soulʼs rank rose, he had gained the ability to read karma.
Zeke could manipulate karma through the system, but ordinary humans could not.
However, when a person's realm elevated and their soul's rank increased, they touched the essence of karma.
The hermit of stories, Nabu, had adjusted causality by handling karma in his own way.
Jorge, having entered the 9th Circle, was gradually transcending human limits.
Thus, he seemed to instinctively contact karma—the essence of origins—and read information from it.
It was similar in principle to Dragonʼs Wisdom, though not perfect yet.
He appeared like a thoughtless pervert mage on the surface, but in truth, he was an archmage of profound realm.
Zeke said to Jorge.
"I heard from Xeros that you foresaw the future and decided to produce one thousand golems in preparation. Is that correct?"
Probing a transcendent archmage was pointless.
Zeke cut straight to the point.
Jorge set down his cup and nodded.
"Yes. I told the old fogeys in the family to do just that."
He showed no hesitation.
Zeke asked again, looking at him. "May I ask what future you saw?" Jorge blinked at Zeke.
He tilted his head from side to side, pursed his lips, then nodded and spoke slowly.
"Hmm, what future? Itʼs hard to say precisely. If I had to put it, I saw a future where one thousand golems were made."
Zeke organized his thoughts briefly before he responded.
"So, you saw a future where one thousand golems were made, and based on that, you decided to produce them now? Thatʼs an interesting statement. Cause and effect have merged into one."
Jorge clapped his hands delightedly at Zekeʼs words.
"Hahaha! Sir Zeke, youʼre far better than the thick-headed old fogeys in my family. Any thoughts on switching to mage now?"
Zeke shook his head firmly at Jorgeʼs words.
"No."
Jorge looked a bit crestfallen at the immediate reply.
"Eek, itʼd be great if you learned magic."
The elderly archmage puffed out his cheeks in a pout—a sight that was utterly rare.
Zeke composed himself and said to Jorge.
"Itʼs a causality dilemma. Seeing the future where one thousand golems were made led to the decision to make them now, so cause and effect are tangled—which came first?"
Jorge nodded repeatedly, his face impressed.
"Whoa! Exactly, Sir Zeke. The one thousand golems arenʼt the point. As you said, cause and effect have become one, like a snake biting its own tail and spinning in circles."
Emboldened by Zekeʼs response, Jorge waved his hands animatedly as he continued.
"This leads to a hypothesis: What if I had seen that future but decided not to make the one thousand golems? Would the golems truly not be made, and the future I saw vanish? Or would they somehow be made another way?"
Having crossed timelines himself, Zeke could grasp the complex time dilemma to some extent.
After pondering Jorgeʼs words, Zeke spoke.
"If the former, we could assume countless futures arise. If the latter, it leads to determinism, where the future is ultimately fixed as one." Suddenly, Jorge froze his waving hand.
His earlier boisterous expression was gone; now, genuinely shocked, he stared at Zeke with wide eyes.
"Countless futures? Hypothesis? Deter... Deterministic. Converges to one...
Converge? Converge?"
Seeing Jorgeʼs reaction, Zeke wondered if he had said something amiss.
Jorge muttered like a madman, then pulled out paper and a pen from his bosom and began scribbling furiously.
He flipped through the pages, wrote formulas on the table, then on the floor and walls— scrawling everywhere.
"Whoa! Whoa!"
Jorge didnʼt stop, making strange noises as he wielded the pen.
Zeke, unsurprised by the sudden outburst, simply sipped his tea and watched.
Hours later, Jorgeʼs pen finally stopped.
"Itʼs... itʼs done."
He sprang to his feet.
"Iʼve proved it! Finally, Iʼve proved that damned 9th-circle magic!"