Genius Mage in a Cultivation World

//Text in [xxx] is a translation of the ancient. There is deeper translation in para comments/author notes

"Ugh, I knew deserts were dangerous, but I didn't realize just how much…" Muttering to himself as he continued to walk forward, Layn swiped the sweat from his forehead. No matter how long did he travel, the dune beyond which the oasis awaited wasn't getting any closer.

Or at least, that's how it seemed for the archmage.

Step by step, he continued to walk through the endless sands with the scorching heat of the sun frying his back. With only the simplest of the clothing weaved from the magic energy itself covering Layn's skin, he could only dream of something to shield himself from the unrelenting rays.

'Strange… I know this is a desert… But how come there is so little magic in the air?' As his walk continued to extend into what seemed like an infinity, Layn couldn't ignore this matter any longer.

'Could it be some kind of hidden place that managed to avoid the influence of the culling? Nah, not possible.' No matter what kind of possibility Layn attempted to rationalize, it all fell short of the mark of logical solution. After all, no matter what the place was, the air was capable of sneaking literally everywhere.

Because from the looks of it, as soon as Layn got close enough to those foreign voices to discern the specific words… he still couldn't understand a word.

'Wait, I think I heard this somewhere… Don't fucking tell me…' With a sudden realization striking the man like a lightning, his face suddenly swollen up in a huge disappointment mixed with relief. After a few more moments during which Layn was splitting his efforts between climbing the dune and listening to the strange language, the realization finally struck his head.

As strange an accent as those people were using, there was no denying one simple fact. The tongue that they were using, was a bastard form of the legendary ancient tongue that Layn studied even before his time as a member of the hero party!

Outside of some strange academics infatuated with ancient history, only one kind of people could speak this language as fluently as the people Layn was listening to could.

Reconstruction groups.

Sprouting like flowers ever since the world entered a relatively peaceful era, they were a fun way for the rich to waste their money away while the poor could make an easy profit out of the counterfeit ancient goods. Only this kind of people could bother to learn an entire language just for the sake of keeping their little plays even a bit closer to the realism of the years-long gone.

And from the sound of the things, it seemed like the group that Lay was about to encounter, belonged to the absolute top ranks in terms of dedication!

Finally taking the last few steps to arrive at the top of the sandhill, Layn could finally take a closer look at the oasis and the people in it.

'Gosh, they really are abandoning all the reason for this hobby.' Even a single look was enough for Layn's lips to form a thin, perfectly straight line. With his eyelids lowering halfway, he started at the peculiarly dressed group for a moment before releasing a deep sigh and descending down the dune.

Form the delicate robes that seemed to magically flutter on the wind, through some clothes that hardly even pretended to hide anything all the way to the thick furs worn on the naked arms by several warrior-looking guys. As cheap and tattered as the clothing of this group looked for the most part, Layn had no doubt that each of those outfits could cost as much as an entire village!

"Krashar ketense!" [Bring the drinks]

Hearing the unfamiliar words, Layn couldn't even guess what they could mean. It seemed that this group worked on their ancient much harder than the archmage did in his academy years. But looking at the situation, Layn had actually yet to even join the academy at the current date, making him probably the youngest to ever be proficient in that language.

The group noticed him. Ever since the strange shout shook the air, a commotion appeared in the camp at the oasis. By the time Layn got close enough to see the faces of the reconstruction group, they were all lined up with their hands calmly pressed against the handles of their weapons.

"Gosh… How could they be so irresponsible! We are still in the desert, don't they realize it?" Seeing how instead of magic guns or recently popularised crystal sabers the group held on to the historically accurate but almost completely useless iron weapons, Layn's mind almost exploded. Back in the days, a similar group to theirs was all over the news. Not because they managed to discover the secrets of the ancient ruins by dressing in a way their original owners did.

They became popular because the entire group of nine succumbed to a stray monster that happened to cross their path!

"What the hell do you think you are doing you id… everyone?!"

Rather than bothering to speak in ancient, Layn instantly used the common tongue. Yet, to his surprise, there was no reaction in the group.

'Great, now they are ignoring me. Eh, let me play their game then.' It wasn't the first time when Layn met with this kind of problem. With how humans were innately stubborn, it was still a rarity to meet someone so unreasonable.

"Kaka… Kakasha pair." [I'm approaching with friendly intentions.] Using the simplest of the simplest forms that he could recall at the moment, Layn raised his hands in the air in the universal gesture of lack of hostility. For some reason, as near as he was to exploding due to the extreme irresponsibility of those people, they apparently looked like they actually knew how to use their weapons around.

After all, as a former member of the future hero party, Layn knew pretty well how to judge one's skills just from the stance he would assume before the fighting.

"Sakastha parien?" [Comes from where? (Comes where) Where are you coming from] Tilting his head to the side as he heard Layn's poor ancient, one of the men from the group stepped forward while responding. Thankfully, this kind of usual and casual exchange still hung around in Layn's memory, allowing him to understand the context.

But instead of using his voice to respond, the archmage turned around before pointing his hand at the depths of the desert, before returning to the previous position and shaking his arms.

"Kaka parien na yome" [I don't know where I'm coming from CHECK T/N in comment] Finishing his message with the slightly more complex sentence, Layn barely held his facial muscles from twitching when he saw some giggles appearing amongst the female part of the reconstruction group.

But now that their conversation finally started, archmage's initial idea of the group actually being a reconstruction group was thrown into shambles. Even though there was a little chance that such a young group would be fascinated with the culture of the ancient… There was absolutely no way for no adult or teacher to oversee their activities!

"Jestranda collea." [Stranger, come] With Layn's earlier message conveying the fact that he was lost, it was a pleasant surprise to hear the man who assumed the position of the leader of those youths reply with an invitation. His sentence lacked an emotional denominator, making it hard to gauge what that middle-aged man was feeling about the idea, but the invitation still stood.

With Layn's extreme thirst caused by the continuous sweating as he walked, even the prospect of walking right into a trap didn't seem to be that much of a price for getting a few sips of fresh, drinkable water.

After all, even with his body only recently formed back, Layn could still tell that just the residual energy from his formation that remained in his body amounted to several times more than all the magic held in those people's aura!

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