In Mushoku Tensei with an A.I. Chip

When Anthony retired from his position as the Asuran King's Royal Court Wizard, he had fully intended on travelling the world, visiting places and seeing sights he never had the chance to when he was still a young man working tirelessly. 

His goal when he was young was simple. To reach the realm of a Magic God. That is to say, a God-ranked magician. To leave behind a legacy that announced to the world, 'Anthony was here, and this is what he accomplished!'

As a commoner who had a rare stroke of good fortune to be accepted as a special student in the Ranoa Magic Academy, he had a chip on his shoulder with something to prove to the world that he deserved his position. 

Anthony had been one of those geniuses who rose quickly through the ranks of magic, becoming a Fire Saint before graduating from Ranoa Magic Academy. 

After he graduated, he remained in the Magic City of Sharia, dedicating his time to research and training. He expected to rocket up the ranks and touch the realm of the Gods within just a few years. Looking back now, Anthony could only laugh at the naivety of a foolish youngster. 

When a few years turned into a decade, Anthony only then managed to climb into the rank of Kings. 

Despite becoming an esteemed Fire King, an especially young one in his early thirties, the despair that had been building up over the years finally crystallised into hopelessness. He could already feel that he had reached a dead end in his ambitions.

"So this is my limit… what a fool." Anthony told himself back then, laughing at the idiot reflected in the mirror. It was not an explosion of indignation, but a quiet acceptance that he had reached the end of his path. 

Anthony emerged from his seclusion a Fire King, receiving offers from all over the Central Continent for his services. In the end, he chose to settle down in the Asura Kingdom that had offered the most generous salary and conditions. 

For decades after, Anthony served the Asuran King. He couldn't say he had done so to the best of his ability, but enough for the King to offer him an aristocratic title when he brought up retirement. 

Over his long life, he had witnessed many noble scions, brought to him by their proud but vapid parents, claiming to have sired the next great magic genius. Most only wanted their child to have a political connection to the Asuran Royal Court Wizard, only a scant few were genuine. But alas, their children, like their parents, were mediocre talents. 

Perhaps they could achieve small success in the field of magic given time and dedication, but Anthony had seen enough of the Asuran nobility to know this would not be the case. 

And as someone in a position of political authority yet was largely divorced from the vipers nest of noble politics itself, Anthony had the prerogative to turn them down without repercussion. 

Even the King himself could not force Anthony to take on the prince and princess as disciples, let alone the spoiled, silly progeny of equally spoiled, silly noblemen. 

Indeed, Anthony never in a thousand years would have thought that mere months after his retirement, he would encounter an Asuran lordling he would actually want to earnestly teach. 

Luke Notos Greyrat was a marvel. A precocious prodigy that had no equal among peers, Anthony judged within hours of meeting the child. 

His clear intelligence and maturity aside, the sheer instinctive grasp of magic itself was unlike Anthony had ever seen and he had studied in the center of magic in the world for a time. 

Luke's actualization of effortless silent casting was already something that could be worthy of being recorded down in history. Add to that his unmatched aptitude towards manipulating magic and mana - evidenced by the dozens of spells he had already modified and invented by himself - Anthony pitied the other magicians of Luke's generation for they would only ever be engulfed beneath the shadow of a titan. 

Luke was the kind of genius who, despite his god-given talents, pursued the path of magic with relentless diligence—bordering on obsession. Had Anthony been born as his peer, he might have found himself bitter, cursing the heavens for placing a monster like Luke beneath the same sky in the same generation. 

Was Anthony disappointed that Luke's magical potential slowly but surely slowed and stagnated closer to his adolescence? Yes and no. 

At 8 years old, Luke had reached Advanced rank in magic. Not just in one element or a single magical field. Luke had mastered Advanced-rank spells for nearly every magic type, save for Barrier and Divine magic that were monopolized by the Church. 

Luke still had his entire life ahead of him, even if the chances of him becoming the next Laplace was a lot less realistic. 

What was Anthony doing at 8 years old? Probably still picking his nose while daydreaming about being a knight. 

He was disappointed not for his own sake, but rather on behalf of his disciple. The despair and hopelessness Anthony felt once he realised his limits, he never wanted his one and only apprentice to ever feel. 

But at the same time, Anthony also knew Luke well enough to know the boy would never succumb to helpless resignation as he himself once did. His apprentice would break before he ever bent, and giving up was simply not in the child's vocabulary. 

If there was ever someone who could find a way to break through the limits imposed on them by the universe, it would be Luke. 

That is why Anthony was not one bit surprised when his disciple showed up at his chamber one morning and confidently asserted that he was ready to become a Saint. 

"What took you so long?" Anthony had simply responded with a warm smile. 

____________________________________

Flash Over. That was the Saint rank fire spell Anthony had imparted to Luke as his inauguration as a Fire Saint. It was a rather uninspired spell, simply spreading out flames over a wide area instantly. It was, in essence, a Bonfire spell, but multiplied over the area of a small battlefield. 

The key difference between Saint-rank spells and those beneath Saint-rank spells was scale and mana cost. 

Honestly, the mana being used to generate such a large amount of weak fire would have been better served concentrated into a single burst of flame if Luke was fighting a duel against a single opponent. But an 'army-killer' spell had its uses on occasion, he supposed. 

Regardless, Luke thought the Saint-rank spells of this world, at least the ones in Anthony's repertoire, were rather mundane to be blunt. Even after he learned the other Saint-rank spells Anthony could, or was willing to teach him, none were really very interesting other than Cumulonimbus, a Saint-rank water spell that summoned heavy rainstorms. At least it wasn't just Elementary-Rank spell x1000. 

Nevertheless, after learning all the Saint-rank spells in Anthony's repertoire, Luke began experimenting with his own Saint-rank inventions. 

He used 300 Magic Power to demarcate what would be counted as a Saint-rank spell in terms of mana cost. 

His favourite so far was Meteor Spear. A thick spear of superheated molten rock, launched at the speed of a ballistic missile. The resulting explosion was… artistic. 

Naturally, when word got out that Luke was now a Saint, most of his family was jubilant. 

"My grandson! A Saint!" Amarant laughed out loud, "Let's see the other fools try to brag about their heirs now!" 

Selena only nodded smugly, "As expected of my baby." 

Valentina just squealed and tightly held him against her voluminous chest. 

Only Pilemon had a stiff smile while congratulating his son. "I… I'm proud of you, son." 

Luke accepted their words with a humble demeanour. "It is all thanks to Master Anthony. I am only ashamed it took so long."

The Fire King chuckled at his apprentice's false modesty, "I was 20 years old when I became a Fire Saint. What would that say about me, child?"

"It would say that it was unfortunate you did not have as good a teacher as I did, master." The newly titled Saint smiled. 

"Oh you, when did you find the time to get so glib?" Anthony chided teasingly.

"Speaking of which," Selena spoke up with her head tilted, "How would others address Luke now? Is he a Fire Saint? But he learned the other elements' Saint-rank spells too, no?"

"A Magician's title is based on the first spell they learned of that rank." Anthony explained, "So in Luke's case, Fire Saint would be correct." 

Valentina, who was still crushing Luke between her massive mammaries, exclaimed excitedly, "Fire Saint! My grandson is a Fire Saint!"

"A-air…" His grandmother had a surprisingly crushing grip for a woman who had a frail body. 

Thankfully, Amarant extricated Luke from his wife's WMDs to plant a meaty palm on the child's shoulder. 

"You've done us proud, my boy. Tell me, what do you want as a reward?" 

Luke shook his head, "No need for a reward, grandpa. Learning magic is my own selfish request. I am simply doing what I like." 

Amarant felt touched by his grandson's sincerity, but refrained from showing it out of habit. His grandson was so sensible, why couldn't his own sons be that way?

Was Luke's pursuit of magic selfish? Perhaps if Amarant thought about it pragmatically. But compared to Paul who selfishly ran away from his family and his duty out of a misguided desire for 'freedom'? It was incomparable! 

And that brat haven't even thought about bringing his other grandson, Rudeus, and granddaughters, Norn and Aisha, to meet their grandparents! Did that brat really treat his parents as dead? 

If Amarant hadn't been keeping tabs on his wayward son, he wouldn't even have known he had more grandchildren other than Luke. Selfish couldn't even begin to cover the impudence and disrespect so senselessly shown! 

And his other child, Pilemon, was just… well, he was Pilemon. His second son did his duty as was expected but in all other areas necessary to excel as a lord, he was not exactly exceptional. More objectively, Pilemon suffered from a lack of confidence and courage. He was an indecisive man, who still lived in the shadow of his wayward brother. So unlike his grandson.

Amarant knew it wasn't fair to compare his son with his grandson in such a way, but he couldn't help it. Besides, Pilemon and Luke weren't that far apart in age. Perhaps… 

No, no, that would truly be unjust to his son and heir apparent. 

Pilemon will be a fine lord of Milbots. Perhaps not a great Lord Notos Greyrat, but good enough.