ã€ŠThe Problematic Child of the Magic Towerã€‹


 Chapter 1: Prologue

    [Trantor - ra]

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    Chapter 1: Prologue

    It was a stark contrast to the navy blue night sky brimming with stars.

    A mountain of corpses and a sea of blood.

    No matter where one looked, the scene was a crimson abyss.

    The corpses, all d in white robes, made the dark red of the blood stand out all the more vividly.

    "¡­Answer me."

    A man stood alone amidst the battlefield, murmuring in a low voice.

    "If there are any survivors, respond."

    "If you cannot speak, moving or even groaning is enough."

    "Please¡­ Please, anyone, respond¡­"

    His voice trailed off as his head drooped.

    His face seemed ready to copse into tears at the slightest touch.

    He knew.

    He understood.

    If anyone had survived, they would have been detected by his magic.

    ¡®In the end, no one¡­¡¯

    No one had survived.

    The 153 mages who entrusted their lives to him had willingly chosen to make this ce their tomb.

    And what was gained in exchange for their boundless futures, their potential, their very lives¡­

    "¡­Was this."

    The man gazed at a severed head lying haphazardly at his feet.

    This was the result.

    The head of the Great Emperor¡ªthe first to unify the demonic tribes and push humanity to the brink of extinction.

    "¡­This is all."

    He couldn''t bring himself to say the rest aloud.

    That would be an insult to everyone who had sacrificed themselves for this oue.

    "Cough!"

    The man copsed, ck blood spurting from his mouth.

    He had been holding on by patching up his destroyed heart with magic, but even that had reached its limit.

    His time, too, was almost up.

    "April 28th, 3:12 a.m. The death of the Great Emperor has been confirmed."

    A monotone voice echoed in his ears.

    The man weakly turned his blurry gaze toward the source.

    "¡­Edna?"

    "Yes."

    Edna Sol Lace, thest dragon in this world and its observer of history, drew closer.

    Her emotionless eyes fixated on the Emperor''s head as she spoke.

    "I have good news and bad news."

    "Start with the bad news."

    After a brief hesitation, she cautiously opened her mouth.

    "As anticipated, the demon armies have invaded the White Tower. Most of the mages have perished in the process. The tower has been partially destroyed, and nearly all of the spellbooks and research materials have been lost to the mes."

    Hearing the report, the man''s eyes trembled violently.

    He had known this would happen, known and yet had chosen to kill the Emperor instead of defending the tower.

    But he was still human, unable to suppress the surge of emotions.

    "¡­What¡¯s the good news?"

    "The royal forces arrived sooner than expected. They were able to rescue some survivors, including your disciples."

    At those words, a strange sense of relief washed over him.

    He believed in his disciples, those young geniuses.

    He was sure they would restore the White Tower, even if it fell into ruin.

    "Cough! Cough!"

    Perhaps it was the relief that made his burden lighter.

    Despite his imminent death, he felt an odd sense of peace.

    Edna, who had been watching him closely, asked,

    "Do you regret your choice today?"

    "¡­No."

    No¡ªmore precisely, he couldn¡¯t afford to regret it.

    With a bitter smile, the man cast a sorrowful gaze over the surrounding corpses.

    "Each one of them, I personally selected and brought here."

    To tell them that it had been a mistake, that he regretted bringing them here¡ªhe could never say such a thing.

    That would be an affront to the subordinates who had trusted him with their lives.

    ''But¡­ to say there¡¯s no regret at all would be a lie.''

    Tonight, humanity had secured a future, but the White Tower had lost everything, including its past legacy.

    Even though he knew it had been an inevitable choice, a lingering regret haunted him.

    ''I may have been the greatest mage, but I might not have been a great leader.''

    The thought came to him suddenly.

    What if he had chosen a selfish life, not as humanity''s hero but as someone who only cared for his people?

    Would things have been different?

    "¡­Cough!"

    But such meaningless thoughts ended there.

    Death was near.

    The moon filling his vision wavered and split into multiples, his final sight blurring.

    "Do you have anyst words?"

    "¡­My disciples."

    A faint, bitter smile appeared as he thought of his three rescued disciples.

    "Look after them from time to time. They¡¯re still young, and they¡¯ll be anxious."

    "¡­I will check on them asionally."

    Sensing his end, Edna bowed deeply.

    It was an excessive gesture for a dragon, a demi-god, to offer to a human, but this man had earned it.

    "This observer and the continent will not forget the noble sacrifice of the heroes of the White Tower."

    "That goes without saying¡­ They must not forget."

    Slowly, his eyes closed.

    An irresistible drowsiness enveloped him like a feral beast.

    Never before in his life had his eyelids felt this heavy...

    Thud.

    "¡­"

    Edna stood silently, guarding the ground where the White Mage had fallen for a long time.

    Her record for that day was simple.

    [The Great Emperor, deceased.]

    [132 6th-level mages of the White Tower, fallen in battle.]

    [19 7th-level mages of the White Tower, fallen in battle.]

    [2 8th-level mages of the White Tower, fallen in battle.]

    [Oscar Sage, White Tower¡¯s 9th-level mage and Tower Master...]

    Fallen in battle.

    [Trantor - ra]

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    * * *

    Rustle.

    A gentle breeze lightly stirred the curtains.

    "Ah!"

    With a scream, Oscar¡¯s eyes shot open.

    "W-what¡¯s wrong! I was just trying to change your wet cloth!"

    "¡­"

    Realizing he was gripping the other¡¯s wrist tightly, Oscar slowly released his hold.

    The man, shaking his numbed wrist, grumbled.

    "Here I was taking care of you... You have some terrible sleeping habits."

    "¡­Sleeping habits?"

    Muttering quietly, Oscar suddenly bolted upright.

    ''I was asleep? In such a defenseless state?''

    It wasn¡¯t like him to make such a rookie mistake.

    More importantly, hadn¡¯t he already died?

    As proof, his destroyed heart should have been¡­

    "¡­Huh?"

    Thump, thump.

    It was beating.

    The heart that the Great Emperor had torn apart was somehow intact and beating.

    Just as Oscar was about to ask a question to make sense of it all¡ª

    Boom!

    The door to the infirmary burst open with an earth-shattering crash.

    "Ah, you¡¯re awake."

    A man in his mid-thirties, wearing the White Tower¡¯s robes, entered.

    The caretaker groaned and stood in his way.

    "Ah, Elder, you¡¯re here? He just woke up, so maybe you could scold himter¡­?"

    "Step aside, Fran. This time, I must reprimand him thoroughly."

    "Of course, I agree he deserves it. Go ahead and scold him harshly. But maybe give him a moment first¡­?"

    Watching the two bicker, Oscar quietly asked,

    "How am I alive?"

    "¡­Ha! Yes, I suppose even you would find it curious."

    Scoffing, the man brushed past Fran and approached the bed.

    His stern gaze locked onto Oscar as he asked,

    "Do you remember what you did?"

    "¡­"

    What he had done...

    He was probably talking about leading the elite mages of the White Tower to annihte the Great Emperor in a mutual destruction.

    At least his heart seemed intact, judging by the way it throbbed painfully.

    ¡°I remember. But it was a choice I had to make for humanity.¡±

    ¡°¡­What? For humanity? A choice you had to make?¡±

    The man let out a scoff of disbelief, his eyes sparking with anger.

    ¡°Did the embezzlement youmitted really have such a grandiose reason?¡±

    ¡°¡­Huh?¡±

    Embezzlement?

    He¡¯d never done anything like that¡­

    As Oscar looked up at him in confusion, the man, now furious, shouted,

    ¡°Such a pathetic and disgraceful wretch! I might have considered some leniency if you had even shown genuine remorse!¡±

    With a roar, the man¡¯s palm came crashing down toward the top of Oscar¡¯s head.

    Instinctively, Oscar cast a spell.

    ¡®Wind Shield.¡¯

    A swirling barrier of wind rapidly formed above him, spinning fiercely.

    The moment his attacker struck, the man¡¯s wrist would bend like straw.

    ¡°Hmm? This is¡­¡±

    But then, the man suddenly stopped his hand mid-air as he noticed the precision of the Wind Shield.

    His expression shifted to one of mild surprise, and his anger seemed to subside a little.

    ¡°¡­Not bad. At least you haven¡¯t been ckingpletely.¡±

    After giving Oscar aplicated look, the man abruptly turned away.

    ¡°The punishment can wait until you¡¯re fully recovered. Focus on healing for now.¡±

    With those parting words, the man left the room.

    Fran, the man with blue hair, quickly approached Oscar.

    ¡°Hey, are you out of your mind? You know how the Elder is, so why provoke him?¡±

    ¡°¡­The Elder?¡±

    There was no Elder like that under hismand.

    The man must have been a mage brought over from one of the White Tower¡¯s branches.

    After all, there wasn¡¯t a single mage in the current White Tower who could qualify as an Elder¡­

    ¡®Not one.¡¯

    Oscar¡¯s expression turned bitter, but he quickly regained hisposure and asked, n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    ¡°What¡¯s today¡¯s date?¡±

    ¡°September 21st.¡±

    ¡°¡­I¡¯ve been asleep for five months?¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about? It¡¯s only been three days.¡±

    Three days?

    He had defeated the Great Emperor on April 28th, so five months should have passed.

    Oscar, puzzled by the discrepancy, opened his mouth again.

    ¡°Call Lloyd for me. If he¡¯s not around, Gillie or Sasha will do. I need to hear what happened from the kids.¡±

    ¡°¡­What? Are you serious? Your memory¡¯s really all over the ce, huh?¡±

    Fran gave him a bewildered look.

    ¡°If not, you wouldn¡¯t just casually drop the names of traitors¡­ let alone the Tower Master.¡±

    ¡°Traitors?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, traitors.¡±

    Fran nodded.

    ¡°Lloyd Schultz, who abandoned the White Tower to be a disciple of the Red Tower Master, and Gilliot Dominic, who ran off with a high-level grimoire.¡±

    ¡°¡­What?¡±

    Lloyd?

    That boy joined the Red Tower?

    And Gillie, stealing a high-level grimoire and fleeing?

    ¡°What kind of nonsense is this¡­?¡±

    Of all things, he wouldn¡¯t stand for anyone badmouthing his disciples.

    He was about to explode with anger when he stopped short.

    With his ability to read the wind, he noticed how eerily calm the air around Fran was.

    ¡®So¡­ everything he¡¯s saying is true?¡¯

    His mind was spinning.

    ¡°Traitors? And wait¡­ Sasha is the Tower Master?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s an excellent one, at that.¡±

    ¡°¡­How can a five-year-old be the Tower Master?¡±

    ¡°Why are you leaving out the twenty years before that?¡±

    Twenty years?

    So Sasha was twenty-five now?

    Did that mean he had been asleep for twenty years?

    ¡®¡­I look fine, but my brain must be broken.¡¯

    Letting out a sigh, Oscar turned his head to the well-polished window to see his reflection.

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Who¡­ are you?

    [Trantor - ra]

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 Chapter 2

    [Trantor - ra]

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    Chapter 2: The Tragic Genius (1)

    A spacious living room with one wall made entirely of ss.

    Through it, the view of the white city of Sirin unfolds in its entirety.

    "I still can¡¯t believe it."

    Oscar, silently gazing at the nightscape, muttered to himself.

    "...Twenty years have passed."

    The words of the man called Fran were no lie.

    The view of Sirin spread before him was distinctly different from the one he remembered.

    ¡®It¡¯s developed so brilliantly, it¡¯s almost blinding.¡¯

    Indeed, the city that once fell into darkness as soon as the sun set was no more.

    The dazzling lights scattered across the city glittered as though stars had been pulled down from the night sky.

    ¡®Magic lighting. It used to only exist in ces like the magic towers or the royal pce.¡¯

    Now, such luxurious magical items were casually installed on the streets.

    And the vehicles, moving without the aid of horses, were astounding no matter how many times he saw them.

    "Streetlights, automobiles, the magical engineering revolution."

    Murmuring the new words he had learned, Oscar continued to take in the peaceful night of the city for a long while before faintly smiling.

    ¡®It¡¯s a relief.¡¯

    The city during the age of despair had always been shrouded in gloom.

    People avoided conversation and bore the eyes of those who had given up on everything.

    But now, smiling faces were visible everywhere.

    "...It¡¯s truly a relief."

    The guilt weighing heavily in a corner of his heart felt slightly lighter.

    Even though it was for the sake of humanity, he had never forgotten the moment he abandoned this ce.

    ¡®If only they could see this, they¡¯d be pleased too.¡¯

    He missed his subordinates, who had ascended to the heavens first, but at the same time, he felt unworthy of seeing them.

    Lost inplex emotions, Oscar gazed at the city of the night and muttered.

    "Enough admiring."

    Tap, tap.

    He lightly tapped on the ss wall, and it instantly transformed into a spotless mirror.

    Oscar stared at the man in the mirror, whose face still felt unfamiliar.

    "...Oscar Crucian."

    By some twist of fate, the owner of this body shared his name.

    A scion of a fallen count family, taken in by the White Tower at the age of ten, now twenty years old.

    ¡®At least the looks pass.¡¯

    Sharp eyes and pale white skin gave him the appearance of an aristocratic gentleman.

    His blue eyes, identical to those from his past life, seemed to pair well enough with his ck hair.

    ¡®But... as a mage, he fails.¡¯

    To remain at level 1 by this age meant a woefulck of talent.

    Even with average ability, he should have reached level 3 by now.

    ¡®Was that why he felt so desperate?¡¯

    Rumor had it that he had embezzled research funds to consume an illegal potion.

    A potion that could multiply one''s magical capacity severalfold, but at the risk of death if it failed.

    ¡®Fran said it was sheer luck that he survived after drinking that junk, but¡­¡¯

    Well, this body¡¯s owner likely drank the potion and died.

    That¡¯s probably why his soul ended up in this body.

    The concept seemed simr to possession used by spectral monsters.

    ¡®But there¡¯s no way my soul would have wandered the world for no reason.¡¯

    Someone had clearly tampered with his soul.

    Though he had no idea who that contemptible person was, finding out could wait.

    ¡®For now, I need to figure out the White Tower¡¯s current situation and what happened to my disciples.¡¯

    After all, among the three disciples he had, two were now being called traitors.

    "...What in the world happened during all this time?"

    With aplicated expression, Oscar sat down on the sofa.

    He intended to sort out his thoughts and examine the condition of his current body.

    Wuuuuuung!

    At the call of the former Archmage, dormant mana circuits activated, and he was startled.

    "What is this?"

    There was a lot.

    For a mere level 1 mage, the amount of mana was overwhelming.

    Moreover, most of it was unrefined, pure mana.

    ¡®...So all of this came from drinking that cheap illegal potion?¡¯

    Incredible¡ªhe marveled at the modern world¡¯s ingenuity.

    His mouth slightly agape in admiration, Oscar deftly drew up the mana.

    ¡®Hmm.¡¯

    Despite the abundance of mana, the state of the circuits was far from satisfactory.

    Mana circuits were supposed to be smooth, like a well-maintained path.

    However, this body¡¯s circuits were a mess, like a sandpit where feet would sink with every step.

    ¡®Well, it would be asking too much to expect anything decent from a talentless level 1 mage.¡¯

    Just as Oscar was about to take a closer look at the mana circuits¡ª

    ¡®...What¡¯s this?¡¯

    Sensing something strange within the circuits, he gathered it to the index finger of his left hand and expelled it like sweat.

    Sizzle!

    A single drop of ck liquid fell onto the corner of the desk, melting it instantly.

    "Poison?"

    And a lethal one at that.

    Judging by the remaining quantity and time psed, it must have been an ingredient in the illegal potion.

    After a brief moment of contemtion, Oscar slowly nodded.

    ¡®...I see. I think I understand the situation now.¡¯

    The illegal potion Oscar Cruciang had consumed couldn¡¯t possibly have been cheap.

    The sheer amount and purity of mana were beyond what could be achieved with ordinary potions.

    ¡®It must have been a high-grade potion, the kind you couldn¡¯t get even by paying extra.¡¯

    The seller likely used the potion as bait to propose some kind of deal, and Oscar Cruciang couldn¡¯t refuse.

    The problem was that he hadn¡¯t realized the potion wasced with poison.

    ¡®In short, his cause of death wasn¡¯t a mana explosion¡ªit was poisoning.¡¯

    Moreover, the poison was excessively potent for killing a mere level 1 mage.

    Unless the body was dissected and thoroughly investigated, it would have gone undetected.

    "..."

    Debating how to handle the situation, Oscar slowly rose from his seat.

    Staring at his reflection in the mirror, he spoke.

    "...Rest in peace. I¡¯ll repay the debt of borrowing your body with vengeance."

    Even if not for that, it was wise to eliminate potential obstacles in advance.

    Oscar grabbed a vial faintly smelling of herbs and left the room.

    [Trantor - ra]

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    * * *

    Walking down the tower¡¯s corridor, Elder Maxim reflected on the events of the morning.

    ¡®What a surprise.¡¯

    Oscar¡¯s Wind Shield had been executed with such precision that even he, a seasoned mage, was momentarily stunned.

    Had he not regained hisposure instantly, his wrist might have twisted.

    ¡®The boy has been practicing harder than I thought.¡¯

    As a White Tower elder, he could discern a great deal from just one observation.

    Though Wind Shield was a basic spell, it couldn¡¯t reach that level of mastery with mere days of effort.

    The boy must have been training tirelessly, likely sacrificing sleep and rest.

    Feeling an unexpected pang of emotion, Maxim halted and gazed out the window.

    "...Foolish boy."

    Years ago, when the Vice Tower Master brought in a scrawny child, he had vehemently opposed it.

    This wasn¡¯t an orphanage, and they couldn¡¯t afford to take on another mouth to feed.

    But his opinion soon changed.

    ¡®A genius.¡¯

    The moment he witnessed a fragment of the child¡¯s overwhelming talent, hope took root against his will.

    This boy would grow into a great mage.

    He would breathe new life into the declining White Tower.

    "..."

    But the gods were cruel.

    They had given the boy the mind toprehend all the principles of magic but not the body to wield it.

    Despite his extraordinary understanding of magic, his growthgged behind.

    After investigation, the boy was diagnosed with Mana Deficiency Syndrome.

    ¡®That was the first time I learned how bitterly a person could cry.¡¯

    Perhaps that was why he had felt relieved when the boy dered his intent to transition into a theoretical mage.

    Given his unparalleled magicalprehension, he could still achieve greatness in the field of theory.

    But after his transition, his actions were nothing short of disappointing.

    He hasn''t produced any results in years despite the research funds we provided, scraping them together from limited resources.

    ¡°And to top it off, there was that embezzlement scandal... That problem child, always managing to stir up trouble.¡±

    ¡°Heh.¡±

    A low chuckle came from behind, and Maxim quickly turned around.

    There stood an elderly man, small enough to barely reach Maxim¡¯s chest, standing with his hands sped behind his back.

    ¡°Deputy Tower Master?¡±

    ¡°I was just looking for you, Elder Maxim. Here you are.¡±

    ¡°You were looking for me? What for?¡±

    ¡°I had a feeling you might storm off to confront that boy in a fury.¡±

    ¡°Ah, about that¡­¡±

    Maxim, looking slightly embarrassed, cleared his throat.

    ¡°I already gave him an earful this morning.¡±

    ¡°What, already?¡±

    Clicking his tongue lightly, the Deputy Tower Master spoke again.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be too harsh on him. He¡¯s likely struggling the most with himself.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t tolerate him indefinitely. Embezzling research funds is unforgivable. That said¡­¡±

    He¡¯s just avoiding reality.

    He¡¯s like a na?ve child who believes everything will work out if he just takes a miracle potion.

    Buttely, his perspective has changed a bit.

    ¡®Perhaps the first person to give up on him, the one who held the most severe prejudice, was me.¡¯

    After all, he¡¯s been working harder than anyone else, quietly, where no one can see.

    A pang of shame struck Maxim as he let out a bitterugh.

    ¡°Maybe that rascal Oscar is more mature in some ways than I am.¡±

    ¡°If that¡¯s true, let¡¯s hope he doesn¡¯t stir up trouble for a while.¡±

    ¡°Haha,e on, he has some conscience. He just caused a scene hours ago¡ªhe won¡¯t start another one already.¡±

    As Maximughed it off, confident no more trouble was brewing, Oscar stepped into a tavern on the other side of the city.

    * * *

    ¡°Wee.¡±

    Upon entering the establishment, The Goblin¡¯s Tear, a bartender wiping down a ss, greeted him.

    Oscar sat down at the counter, ncing around the room.

    ¡°This¡­ is a bar?¡±

    ¡°As you can see. Though we do serve light snacks as well.¡±

    This was unexpected.

    He had been following the faint herbal scent lingering on the potion vial, only to end up at a tavern.

    That means it¡¯s one of two things.

    Either someone bought illegal potions and came here for a drink, or this ce is the transaction site.

    Thetter was far more likely.

    ¡°I was here a few days ago, meeting someone for a deal. Do you remember anything?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid not. We get too many customers every day to recall everyone.¡±

    ¡°It was about a potion. The kind that can exponentially increase magic power if it works, but can kill you if it fails. Nearly killed me, in fact.¡±

    ¡°¡­Sorry, I wouldn¡¯t know anything about that.¡±

    The bartender shook his head, feigning regret, and continued polishing his ss.

    Watching him closely, Oscar casually remarked,

    ¡°Having trouble cleaning that one?¡±

    ¡°Pardon?¡±

    ¡°That ss. You¡¯ve been wiping the same one since I walked in.¡±

    The bartender froze for a moment, his hands pausing mid-motion.

    At that, four burly men who had been lingering nearby suddenly surrounded Oscar.

    ¡°Hey, Mage. Stop bothering the poor bartender and have a chat with us instead.¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you sit back, have a drink, and spend some money?¡±

    ¡°Who remembers every customer in a ce like this? Be reasonable.¡±

    Oscar nced at them calmly before speaking.

    ¡°¡­Am I being threatened right now? I¡¯m a mage from the White Tower.¡±

    ¡°Pfft! A mage? Not all Tower members are the same.¡±

    ¡°Hey, show some respect! He¡¯s a so-called genius theoretical mage.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, though he¡¯s just a half-baked one who can only use basic spells.¡± n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    The thugs burst intoughter, revealing more than they intended.

    ¡®So this guy is a theoretical mage.¡¯

    That exins why he¡¯s still at Level 1.

    Theoretical mages prioritize the study and interpretation of magic over practicalbat.

    ¡°Well, we don¡¯t know anything. So unless you¡¯re buying a drink, scram.¡±

    ¡°Lies.¡±

    ¡°¡­What?¡±

    ¡°What you just said¡ªit¡¯s a lie.¡±

    The air holds more information than most people realize.

    For instance, the faint vibrations in the air around that man indicated he was lying.

    ¡°Wha¡­ How dare you¡ª¡±

    ¡°Tony, don¡¯t.¡±

    The leader silenced hispanion and subtly disyed the sword at his hip.

    ¡°Mage, stop being unreasonable and leave. Otherwise, this won¡¯t end well.¡±

    ¡°Hm.¡±

    Oscar rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

    If the original owner of this body were here, how would he handle this?

    The answer came quickly.

    Who cares?

    A grin spread across his face as he looked at the man.

    ¡°Did you know? Sometimes, when people have a near-death experience, their personality changes drastically.¡±

    ¡°¡­What?¡±

    ¡°So if I seem different, me it on that.¡±

    The moment he finished speaking¡ª shhk, shhk!

    The sound of heavy slicing filled the room as three of the men behind him crumpled to the ground.

    ¡°Wha¡ªwhat?! My leg! My leg is bleeding!¡±

    ¡°AAAAH!¡±

    Their screams of pain and terror filled the tavern.

    Thest man, trembling, reached for his sword, only to freeze as a cold sensation touched his neck.

    ¡°This¡­ this is¡­¡±

    ¡°Wind Cutter. One of those basic spells you were mocking.¡±

    No magic is inherently weak.

    It all depends on how it¡¯s used and by whom.

    ¡°Now, I¡¯ll ask again.¡±

    Oscar¡¯s sharp gaze pierced the man as he twirled the potion vial in his fingers.

    ¡°Who sold me this crap?¡±

    [Trantor - ra]

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 Chapter 3

    [Trantor - ra]

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    Chapter 3: The Tragic Genius (2)

    A two-story gray building on the outskirts of Sirin.

    At first nce, it appeared ordinary, but it was actually a gang hideout.

    "Uh, boss."

    "Boss. Boss, you idiot. How many times do I have to tell you? I''m a businessman now."

    "Oh, right. My bad."

    "Sigh..."

    The leader, Gordon, rubbed his temples, feeling a headacheing on.

    The thought of having to rely on someone like this as his right-hand man was almost pitiful.

    "Anyway, boss, are you sure about this?"

    "About what?"

    "That mage. I heard he almost died after drinking the potion he bought from us."

    "So what?"

    "Uh... what?"

    "What does that have to do with us?"

    Click!

    Gordon lit the cigar in his mouth, exhaling a cloud of acrid smoke.

    "Kid, this isn''t my first day in business. That guy got greedy and ended up with mana overload. That¡¯s all."

    "But what if the White Tower folks investigate further?"

    "Ugh... Bart, you idiot."

    Chuckling softly, Gordon posed a question.

    "Do you even know who hired us to hand over that potion to him?"

    "No, the guy was wearing a hooded robe. How could I know?"

    "That¡¯s why you¡¯re useless."

    "Wait, are you saying you know who it was, boss?"

    "I don¡¯t. And I don¡¯t need to."

    Huff...

    After another puff of smoke, Gordon smirked.

    "But I do know where he¡¯s from. That guy¡¯s a mage from the White Tower."

    "What!? Are you serious?"

    Bart''s shocked reaction was met with Gordon¡¯s chuckle and a gesture to lower his voice.

    "He could fool anyone, but not me. When I took the payment, I saw him wearing the White Tower¡¯s ring."

    "Wow, impressive. I didn¡¯t notice a thing."

    "That¡¯s the difference between you and me, kid."

    Just as Gordon was about to boast further about his keen observation, an unfamiliar voice interrupted their conversation.

    "If he was really from the White Tower, he wouldn¡¯t have made it so obvious. He¡¯s not an idiot."

    "Who¡¯s there?"

    Both men turned toward the window, and Gordon¡¯s expression darkened.

    "You... Oscar Crucian? I heard you were on death¡¯s door."

    "Almost. But I pulled through."

    "Heh."

    Amused, Gordon leaned back into his chair and asked,

    "So, what brings you here? You¡¯re still not fully recovered, are you?"

    "I was curious about the conversation you two were having."

    "Tsk. If you had pretended not to hear, I might¡¯ve spared you."

    Now that their attempt to assassinate a White Tower mage had been exposed, there was no letting him go.

    They had to settle this here and now.

    Gordon waved his hand dismissively, as if swatting a fly.

    "Kill him."

    "Yes, boss!"

    At themand, Bart drew his sword and charged without hesitation.

    "...No hesitation when killing someone, huh?"

    "You can¡¯t survive in this cutthroat world if you hesitate!"

    "..."

    Oscar¡¯s gaze grew cold and sharp.

    ¡®Alright, this actually makes it easier.¡¯

    If the opponent was just a lowlife thug, he didn¡¯t need to hold back either.

    "Wind Shield."

    "Pfft!"

    Despite being wary of Oscar¡¯s magic, Bart couldn¡¯t help butugh.

    Instead ofunching an attack to fend off his charge, he cast a defensive spell?

    ¡®The sheltered 1st-level mage clearly doesn¡¯t know any better.¡¯

    Bart assumed his opponent was too scared to act decisively.

    At this point, the fight was as good as over.

    He was confident his strength could shatter that shield and cut through the body behind it.

    Swish!

    As Bart¡¯s sword descended like a bolt of lightning, Oscar¡¯s Wind Shield tilted at an angle.

    "What the¡ª!?"

    The angle was so precise it sent chills down Bart¡¯s spine.

    It maintained the force of his attack but subtly altered its trajectory.

    Thud!

    The sword veered off course and lodged itself into the window frame.

    "...!"

    Bart¡¯s heart sank momentarily, but his years of experience in the underworld kicked in.

    ¡®The distance is already closed. A 1st-level mage can be beaten to death with bare hands.¡¯

    Without hesitation, Bart let go of his sword and threw a punch.

    "Wind Cutter."

    "Tch."

    Anticipating this, Bart swiftly pulled his free hand to guard his neck and heart.

    He knew Wind Cutter was a potent spell, but it couldn¡¯t inflict deep wounds.

    ¡®It¡¯s also limited to a linear trajectory, making its path predictable.¡¯

    His defense should only result in minor cuts at worst.

    Confident, Bart aimed a blow at Oscar.

    "..."

    sh!

    But the Wind Cutter suddenly coiled like a snake, climbing Bart¡¯s arm.

    It reached his shoulder and shed the back of his neck.

    "Ack!"

    Instinctively, Bart reached back to clutch the wound, leaving his throat exposed.

    The Wind Cutter seized the opening, carving a crimson line across his neck.

    "Gurgle, gurgle...!"

    Blood spurted like a fountain as Bart staggered backward before copsing.

    He didn¡¯t rise again.

    "Bart!"

    Gordon leapt from his seat, spitting curses.

    "You bastard!"

    He rummaged through a drawer and pulled out something, aiming it at Oscar.

    Bang! Bang, bang!

    Three gunshots rang out, and Gordon panted, catching his breath.

    "Huff, huff. That¡¯ll teach you to mess with me..."

    "This is interesting."

    Oscar observed the bullets hovering before him, held back by his Wind Shield.

    The speed and destructive power were impressive.

    If his shield had been even slightly dyed, his head would¡¯ve been blown apart.

    "No magic involved, yet such force... How does this work?"

    "You stopped my bullets?"

    Gordon¡¯s eyes widened, disbelief spreading across his face.

    "Bullets? So that¡¯s what these are called?"

    A ranged weapon, seemingly easier to handle than a bow and capable of killing without magic.

    The world had changed a lot in 20 years.

    Intrigued, Oscar muttered,

    "I¡¯ll study thister. For now, let me return your bullets."

    Whoosh!

    A powerful gust of wind sent the bullets back to their owner.

    "Aaargh!"

    Gordon copsed as his corbone, hand, and thigh were pierced.

    Oscar strolled to the desk, sinking into the plush chair and crossing his legs.

    "Now, about that conversation you were having with the corpse earlier. Care to continue?"

    "Heh... Got cash? That¡¯s some pricey information."

    Gordon grinned, a gleam of malice in his eyes.

    He was clearly banking on reinforcements, confident his men would have heard the gunshots.

    Oscar, seeing through his thoughts, offered some advice.

    "Your men aren¡¯ting. I¡¯ve blocked the sound."

    "...You can use ¡ºSilence¡»?"

    "Not quite."

    Silence was a spell usually mastered by 5th-level mages or higher.

    In his current 1st-level state, it was beyond his reach.

    "What I used is ¡ºSound Binding¡». It¡¯s just holding back the noise for a while."

    "...What an absurd boast."

    He''d never even heard of such magic existing.

    "Believe it or not, that''s up to you. But I''d appreciate it if you answered my question."

    "...What if I refuse?"

    "Your pride is more important than your life, huh? Not a bad choice."

    [Trantor - ra]

    [Proofreader - Gun]

    Well, with guts like that, it makes sense he''d be running things in the back alleys.

    Oscar shrugged his shoulders.

    "Then grit your teeth and tough it out. It''s the path you chose, after all."

    "Tough out what¡ªmmpf! Mmph!"

    CRACK!

    Oscar pried open Gordon''s mouth with a rough hand and let a stream of wind flow inside. Momentster, the room was filled with an ear-piercing scream.

    "Aaaaaahhh! Gaaaahhh!"

    Gordon iled like a fish out of water. It must have felt like thousands of needles tearing through his body.

    It was, without a doubt, a type of pain he''d never experienced in his life.

    "I don''t like torture much, either."

    It makes my ears ring afterward.

    Oscar covered his ears with both hands and made a plea.

    "So please, open your mouth as quickly as possible. I really mean it."

    "Ugh... Ughhh!"

    Tears, snot, and drool streamed from Gordon''s face as he grabbed onto Oscar''s shoes after barely ten seconds.

    His fear-filled eyes brimmed with regret.

    "P-please... I''ll tell you everything..."

    "Good."

    Snap! N?v(el)B\\jnn

    Oscar snapped his fingers, halting the torture, and spoke.

    "Tell me everything you know about the client."

    "Haah... Haaah..."

    After catching his breath, Gordon stammered in a trembling voice.

    "They... they suddenly showed up, gave me arge sum of money and a vial of elixir, and told me to sell it to you for cheap! They said you wouldn¡¯t be able to resist..."

    "What did they look like?"

    "They were wearing a deep hood, so I couldn¡¯t see their face... but, as I said, they were wearing a ring from the White Tower."

    "I''ve heard enough about the ring."

    It was likely just a cheap trick to deceive this guy, anyway.

    "Oh, and the smell! They had a distinct scent."

    "A scent?"

    "Y-yes! A crisp peppermint fragrance that was sharp enough to clear my head, but that¡¯s all I know..."

    Clearly, a disposable errand boy who wasn''t told much.

    ¡®So, all I got was a peppermint scent.¡¯

    But perfumes like that are a dime a dozen.

    If anything, there must be even more varieties now than in the past.

    And it might even be another smokescreen.

    Letting out a sigh, Oscar asked another question.

    "One thing I don¡¯t understand¡ªhow were you nning to deal with the aftermath if you killed me?"

    "Well, with the White Tower busy dealing with their potential expulsion from the Four Great Towers, I thought the investigation might bex..."

    "Wait. What¡¯s this about expulsion?"

    Oscar¡¯s eyes narrowed.

    "The Four Great Towers expulsion issue?"

    "S-surely you know more about it than I do, Oscar."

    "I don¡¯t. After taking the elixir I bought from you, I lost most of my memories."

    At that tant lie, Gordon flinched.

    "...I sincerely apologize. I¡¯vemitted a grave sin."

    "Save your apologies. Exin it in detail."

    "I kept the rted documents in the safe under the desk."

    "Then open it."

    When Gordon unlocked the safe, Oscar retrieved a pouch of money and a few documents.

    Each wasbeled: Ledger, White Tower, and Oscar Crussian.

    ¡®Let¡¯s start with the White Tower document.¡¯

    Rustle, rustle.

    His eyes skimmed quickly over the densely packed pages.

    [White Tower records worst performance among all towersst year.]

    [Twenty years after losing everything, the White Tower still awaits a new wind of change.]

    [Imperial statement: A major announcement concerning the White Tower will be made at this year¡¯s White Night Festival.]

    [Experts identify failed business ventures andck of high-level magic as the White Tower¡¯s biggest problems.]

    Oscar''s hand paused mid-turn, utterly perplexed.

    ¡®Why doesn¡¯t the White Tower have high-level magic?¡¯

    He knew the demons had attacked and burned most of the White Tower¡¯s archives.

    But he''d left measures in ce for such an event.

    ¡®¡­Could Edna have betrayed me?¡¯

    She, the Observer of the World and Mediator of Bnce, was entrusted with everything.

    He¡¯d even instructed her to pass it all on to the future head of the White Tower.

    ¡®No, she wouldn¡¯t betray me. She has no reason to.¡¯

    Deciding to investigate that matter separately, Oscar turned to the next page.

    [The Great Emperor¡¯s death on April 28 was dered a national holiday, White Night Day. The Emperor honored Archmage Oscar Sage¡¯s sacrifice with an unprecedented gift¡ª30 years of tax exemption for the White Tower.]

    [Yet the White Tower¡¯s decline began from an entirely unexpected source. While other towers thrived in business ventures after the war, the White Tower alonegged behind and became obsolete.]

    ¡®Business? What does that even mean?¡¯

    Oscar pointed to the line and looked at Gordon.

    "When they say business here, do they mean potion sales?"

    "That doesn¡¯t even count as a business anymore. It¡¯s the bare minimum for any tower."

    "...Then tell me what kind of business the Four Great Towers are running."

    Clearing his throat, Gordon began to exin.

    "The Golden Tower, masters of lightning, ushered in the era of magical engineering. Thanks to that, they¡¯re rolling in money."

    "Magical engineering¡ªthat means streetlights and cars, right?"

    "Exactly."

    As expected, magical engineering was the Golden Tower¡¯s domain.

    ¡®I knew it. Even in my past life, they kept bragging about magical engineering and technological revolutions.¡¯

    Who¡¯d have thought it would actually happen?

    He never imagined the field would advance so much in 20 years.

    ...If he had, he would¡¯ve invested his entire fortune.

    Swallowing his regret, Oscar asked the next question.

    "What about the Blue Tower?"

    "They¡¯re more diverse. Their main ventures are water distribution, agricultural support, and potion sales."

    "You just said potions don¡¯t count as a business."

    "It¡¯s different for the Blue Tower. They dominate the potion industry, almost monopolizing the market."

    "...They¡¯re the top dogs in potions?"

    Oscar''s face soured.

    Twenty years ago, the White Tower ruled the potion market.

    Of course, most of their recipes were lost in the fire, but it still stung.

    "What¡¯s this water distribution and agricultural support about?"

    "They sell clean water at high prices and make it rain in drought-stricken areas."

    "...They¡¯ll do anything for a bit of coin, won¡¯t they?"

    This is why you can¡¯t trust those shallow Blue Tower types.

    Clicking his tongue, Oscar frowned at another thought.

    "But people actually buy this so-called clean water?"

    "Oh, absolutely. These days, anyone with money drinks nothing else."

    "..."

    Was it him who was strange, or the world that had lost its way?

    Shaking his head, he moved on.

    "The Red Tower must be focused onbat."

    "Yes, they¡¯ve integrated with the military. They handle all monster subjugation operations."

    "Hmm."

    Now understanding the other towers¡¯ business models, Oscar asked.

    "Fine. So what¡¯s the White Tower¡¯s business? Selling fresh air?"

    "Ha... Ha."

    Gordon let out an awkwardugh at the dry joke before answering.

    "Delivery. The White Tower¡¯s main business is delivery."

    "..."

    Did he mishear?

    [Trantor - ra]

    [Proofreader - Gun]

 Chapter 4

    [Trantor - ra]

    [Proofreader - Gun]

    Chapter 4: The Tragic Genius (3)

    Delivery, delivery... delivery?

    As Oscar rolled the word around in his mouth, he blinked.

    ¡°Delivery, as in delivering goods or letters, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes, that''s correct. The couriers of the White Tower can fly, so their delivery times are fast and their service reliable. They¡¯re officially called Wind Riders¡­¡±

    At that moment, Gordon sensed something was wrong and quickly shut his mouth.

    That turned out to be the right choice.

    Oscar¡¯s eyes had grown as cold as ice.

    ¡°...Interesting. So you¡¯re trying to stall for time with nonsense? Give it up. Your underlings won¡¯t show up, no matter how much you wait.¡±

    ¡°What? No! That¡¯s not it at all!¡±

    A panicked Gordon protested in a voice full of indignation.

    ¡°It¡¯s written in the documents! Page 13! Fourth line!¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    Flipping to the page, Oscar saw that there was indeed content about a delivery business.

    ¡°...Are you telling me the White Tower¡¯s business is really delivery?¡±

    ¡°Yes! I swear it¡¯s true!¡±

    ¡°Hah.¡±

    Oscar could onlyugh incredulously.

    Once, the mages of the White Tower were beings of renown.

    Masters of the skies, dominating battlefields from above.

    Their free yet fearless nature had earned themparisons to dragons and eagles.

    ¡°¡­And now you¡¯re telling me they fly around delivering packages?¡±

    It sounded like they¡¯d be nothing more than a bunch of carrier pigeons.

    Did their ancestors develop the ¡ºFlight¡» spell for this purpose?

    With fiery anger in his eyes, Oscar sharply turned his head.

    ¡°Who is it?¡±

    ¡°Pardon?¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s the bastard who came up with this ridiculous business n?¡±

    ¡°I believe it was the current Tower Master, Sasha Maestro.¡±

    ¡°...Son of a...¡±

    It was one of his own.

    Taking a moment to steady his suddenly ragged breathing, Oscar asked another question.

    ¡°So, even though our people are working as... what was it again?¡±

    ¡°Wind Riders, sir.¡±

    ¡°Right, Wind Riders. Even with that, you¡¯re saying we can¡¯t match the revenue of other towers? Why?¡±

    ¡°Well, for starters, the White Tower uses intermediate mages for Wind Riders since they¡¯re better at flying.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    Intermediate mages?

    Not even novices?

    That was an absurd choice.

    Mages at level 4 and above came with significantly higher costs.

    ¡®Even giving them proper assignments would be far more profitable.¡¯

    As questions swirled in his head, Gordon spoke again.

    ¡°Most importantly, the delivery fee is almost free, so the business has been consistently operating at a loss.¡±

    ¡°...Good grief.¡±

    Turning precious resources into delivery workers wasn¡¯t enough; they weren¡¯t even charging properly?

    A business is supposed to make money, not drain it.

    Oscar would¡¯ve gone straight to Sasha to demand an exnation if he could.

    What on earth was she thinking with this n?

    ¡®Especially since the White Tower¡¯s decline means there aren¡¯t even enough mages to handle a monopoly. The volume alone would be overwhelming.¡¯

    Shifting these intermediate mages to assignments would surely be more lucrative.

    And ventures like magical engineering or agricultural support sounded like money-makers at first nce.

    Meanwhile, the Red Tower dominated government-led monster exterminations, solidifying its influence at the center of power.

    ¡®Revenue, societal impact, mage hierarchy, political clout¡­¡¯

    In every aspect, the White Tower paled inparison to the other Four Great Towers.

    If they were expelled, they¡¯d have no one to me but themselves.

    Frankly, they should¡¯ve been grateful the imperial court tolerated this nonsense for 20 years.

    ¡®Where do I even begin to fix this mess?¡¯

    And with only seven months left until the White Night Festival, an eventmemorating the White Tower¡¯s sacrifices.

    Rebuilding the tower¡¯s prestige in that short time was near impossible.

    Just as countless ns shed through his mind¡ª

    ¡°Gah... ugh!¡±

    Gordon suddenly began frothing at the mouth and convulsing.

    At first, Oscar thought it was theatrics, but his state clearly signaled imminent shock-induced death.

    ¡®It must be from all the blood he¡¯s lost.¡¯

    Sure enough, the floor was drenched in blood.

    Oscar debated whether to save him but eventually opened the ledger.

    ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­ arson, assault, robbery, loan sharking, oh, and even murder-for-hire?¡±

    This guy was a walking pile of trash.

    Oscar jumped out the window without hesitation, seeing no reason to save him.

    By the time hended and dispelled ¡ºSound Binding¡», the room had fallen silent.

    Dead men tell no tales.

    * * *

    Back in his room, Oscar copsed onto the couch.

    ¡°Ugh, this body¡­¡±

    A few simple spells were enough to make him feel this run-down.

    He muttered in a voice heavy with fatigue:

    ¡°Wind Archive. ¡±

    The unique magic that had made him the greatest mage in human history.

    Whooosh!

    A fierce wind swirled over his palm but quickly dissipated.

    ¡®¡­As I thought, using it in this body is still impossible.¡¯

    Then again, even back then, he hadn¡¯t mastered this magic until reaching level 7.

    With a resigned sigh, Oscar cast a ¡ºScan¡» spell over his body.

    His condition just didn¡¯t feel normal.

    ¡®Once the scan¡¯s done, I should know what¡¯s wrong. It¡¯ll take a few minutes, so¡­¡¯

    He began reading through the file he¡¯d taken from Gordon¡¯s office: Oscar Crucian.

    >[Heir to theCrucian Count family and sole survivor of the mansion fire.

    Recognized early for his genius, he became the target of recruitment battles among all the major towers and factions.]

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    Oscar¡¯s expression showed genuine surprise.

    From the description, this guy sounded like a prodigy.

    But the Oscar Crucian he knew had struggled to reach level 1 by the age of 20.

    Blinking, he read on.

    >[He graduated early from the Empire Academy¡¯s 9-year magic course in just 6 years, achieving perfect scores on every exam.

    His groundbreaking student theses showcased his undeniable brilliance.]

    ¡°Wait, he really was a genius?¡±

    So why was such an exceptional individual still stuck at level 1...?

    Rustle.

    His growing confusion was answered on the next page with an unsettling revtion.

    >[This makes his situation all the more tragic.

    If not for being afflicted with Mana Deficiency Syndrome, he would surely have be an era-defining Archmage.]

    ¡°¡­This guy has Mana Deficiency Syndrome?¡±

    Oscar¡¯s face hardened.

    If that were true, even he wouldn¡¯t be able to fix it.

    No matter how much miraculous medicine he drank, he¡¯d remain stuck at novice level forever.

    ¡®So that¡¯s why¡­¡¯

    Oscar looked at the reflection in the mirror with pity.

    For a 20-year-old, this was an unbearable despair.

    To understand magic better than anyone else but be unable to use it...

    ¡®If he couldn¡¯tprehend it, at least he wouldn¡¯t have suffered so much.¡¯

    As he sighed in sympathy, the Scan results finished.

    ¡°¡­Disy results.¡±

    As he examined the findings, Oscar¡¯s face gradually contorted.

    ¡®What the hell is this?¡¯

    The cause of Mana Deficiency Syndrome was straightforward.

    All humans, even those who weren¡¯t mages or knights, were born with 20 innate magic circuits.

    But when these circuits became tangled, the flow and umtion of mana were disrupted.

    Even a lifetime of training wouldn¡¯t take them beyond level 3.

    ¡®But... this is different.¡¯

    Though it appeared simr to Mana Deficiency Syndrome, the root cause was entirely distinct.

    ¡®No doubt about it. Someone deliberately tied these circuits.¡¯

    The circuits in this body weren¡¯t just tangled; they were deliberately knotted, preventing them from functioning.

    If he could untie these knots, the circuits would immediately return to normal.

    Oscar bit his lip.

    ¡°Who the hell did this¡­¡±

    As a mage, as a senior, as an adult, he was furious.

    Someone¡¯s interference had derailed a life brimming with potential, stealing the future from a promising young mage.

    "¡­¡­."

    Pausing briefly to analyze the circuits, Oscar reached a conclusion.

    ¡®It¡¯s possible. Not easy, but possible.¡¯

    The vicious knot binding this person, the resentful shackles.

    He could cut them all.

    ¡®If I untangle these and reach a higher level¡­¡¯

    At that point, the one responsible for twisting these circuits would surely make a move.

    tter!

    Oscar rose from his seat and approached the bookshelf.

    ¡®ording to Fran, this guy lived like a problem child, drowning in alcohol.¡¯

    But what if that image was deliberately constructed?

    What if he had feigned idleness because he knew someone had tampered with his circuits and was even targeting his life?

    ¡®If this guy is truly a genius, he would¡¯ve known long ago that he wasn¡¯t suffering from Mana Deficiency Syndrome.¡¯

    If that¡¯s the case, sumbing to the temptation of illicit elixirs bes understandable.

    In a situation where he couldn¡¯t discern who to trust or who had tied his circuits, he would¡¯ve had no choice but to try freeing himself.

    ¡®It would be great if he had written some sort of journal.¡¯

    Fortunately, the bookshelf was lined with dozens of thick notebooks, their covers worn from frequent use.

    Oscar pulled one out and blinked at the title.

    ¡°¡­¡­Reinterpretation of Basic Magic?¡±

    Rustle.

    Reading the title with a light heart, Oscar froze as he flipped through the pages.

    [Trantor - ra]

    [Proofreader - Gun]

    [Wind Cutter has the drawback of a monotonous trajectory. To address this, here are some modifications¡­]

    [The defensive spell Wind Shield is infinitely versatile. When used offensively, the advantages are¡­]

    [The weapon known as a gun is highly suitable for reinterpretation through White Tower magic. Inspired by rotating bullets¡­]

    ...

    It was a grimoire.

    A book filled with Oscar Crucian¡¯s annotations and interpretations of White Tower¡¯s basic magic.

    There were even a few original spells of his creation among them.

    ¡°¡­¡­Impressive.¡±

    After reading through the entire book, he understood why this person had been called a genius.

    No exaggeration¡ªhis theoretical insight rivaled Oscar¡¯s own.

    Even just the enhanced Wind Shield described in this book demonstrated that.

    ¡®This is simr to the Wind Shield I use.¡¯

    A method of forcibly creating openings by twisting the opponent¡¯s attack trajectory.

    The same technique he had used earlier against Bart.

    This concept and principle were entirely different from traditional shields, which were solely defensive.

    ¡®On top of that, he¡¯s detailed the most optimal usage in various scenarios.¡¯

    From a mere nce, it was clear how much effort he had poured into this book.

    How much contemtion had gone into the annotations.

    "¡­¡­."

    Because of this, it was impossible to dismiss this as a mere book of basic spells.

    To some, these spells might be basic, just a fleeting step in their journey.

    But to him, they were everything.

    Rustle, rustle.

    Standing still, Oscar silently turned the pages.

    The scrawled notes seemed to shout out:

    He hadn¡¯t given up.

    Even though he wasbeled a defective product, unworthy of being called a proper mage, he had worked harder than anyone.

    More than anyone.

    He loved magic.

    "¡­¡­."

    Oscar, his eyes involuntarily reddening, eventually reached the final page.

    There, written in still-drying ink, was a short note.

    ¡°Hoping this book brings even a faint breeze to the White Tower. From a mage facing a great challenge.¡±

    With that simple sentence, the book ended.

    But the lingering sentiment stayed with Oscar for a long while.

    ¡®A mage facing a great challenge.¡¯

    He knew.

    This guy had known everything but had endured it alone, unable to share his plight with anyone.

    "Oscar Crucian¡­"

    Oh, young mage who didn¡¯t sumb to the harsh fate ced upon you,

    brave pioneer who walked a lonely path.

    Closing the book, Oscar muttered softly.

    "By the name of Oscar Sage, 17th Tower Master of the White Tower."

    The dream you couldn¡¯t fulfill,

    I will achieve in your stead.

    And those who clipped your wings and locked you in a cage,

    I will ensure they pay the price for their sins.

    * * *

    Morning came.

    But Oscar hadn¡¯t slept a wink, having spent the night reading through dozens of books.

    ¡®I¡¯m tired, but I¡¯ve managed to review all of Oscar Crucian¡¯s research journals thoroughly.¡¯

    Thinking back on their contents, he wore a bittersweet expression.

    If he were to summarize his thoughts, it would be something like: "Impressive and remarkable, but ultimately iplete."

    ¡®Because almost all the research was left unfinished.¡¯

    Of course, that was inevitable.

    No matter how talented a painter might be, they couldn¡¯t perfectly depict andscape they¡¯d never seen before.

    The fact that Oscar Crucian had achieved so much through imagination and conjecture was astonishing in itself.

    ¡®But don¡¯t worry.¡¯

    He had perfectly grasped the intent and direction of the research.

    All that remained was toplete the numerous unfinished projects.

    As Oscar pondered where to start, an announcement interrupted him.

    - Attention, this is a message from the broadcasting room.

    "¡­¡­!"

    Startled, Oscar looked up at the small device mounted on the ceiling.

    The voice wasing from there.

    - Oscar Crucian, please report to Research Lab 4202 immediately.

    ¡°Amunication spell¡­? How did my magic code get detected so easily?¡±

    Even though he changed his code every minute?

    The question,den with suspicion, received no response.

    After a moment of hesitation, Oscar carefully climbed onto a chair to inspect the ceiling-mounted speaker and finally rxed.

    "Whew, I thought¡­ So this is another piece of magic engineering."

    Life had truly be convenient.

    To be able to contact someone unterally without knowing their magic code.

    ¡®Room 4202, was it?¡¯

    Exiting the room, Oscar headed straight for the magic elevator to ascend to the 42nd floor.

    Fortunately, he was familiar with elevators from before, so there was no confusion.

    Knock, knock.

    ¡°Come in.¡±

    Inside, buried under a mountain of documents, sat Elder Maxim.

    Oscar restrained himself from greeting him too eagerly.

    ¡®Who would¡¯ve thought the elder I saw in the infirmary was Maxim, my junior.¡¯

    He had learned this while Fran exined things in the infirmary.

    Maxim Visk. n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    A junior who had joined the White Tower a few years after him.

    Hardworking and earnest, he had been a promising talent for the future.

    ¡®To think that kid grew old and became an elder.¡¯

    He remembered how cute it had been when Maxim used to follow him around, calling him "senior" andter "Tower Master."

    A contented smile spread across Oscar¡¯s face.

    ¡®Judging by his youthful appearance, he must¡¯ve worked hard.¡¯

    That was among the highestpliments a mage could receive.

    After all, as a mage¡¯s mana reservoir grew, their aging slowed.

    Maxim, now in his mid tote forties, looked no older than his early thirties.

    ¡°How¡¯s your condition?¡±

    Without looking up from the papers, Maxim asked indifferently.

    ¡°Well¡­ Ah, yes. I¡¯m fine.¡±

    ¡°You look it.¡±

    Thud.

    A document was tossed onto the desk.

    ¡°You injured three people at the bar and killed the boss and enforcer of the Gordon family. Do you have anything to say?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I had my reasons.¡±

    Oscar ced a pouch of money and a ledger on the desk.

    Maxim nced at them and asked,

    ¡°What are these?¡±

    ¡°The payment. The fee they received to assassinate me.¡±

    ¡°¡­Did you just say assassination?¡±

    Maxim¡¯s slightly surprised eyes urged him to exin further.

    ¡°Yes, the elixir wasced with poison. When I confronted them about it, they tried to kill me.¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡±

    After verifying the contents of the pouch and ledger, Maxim nodded.

    ¡°There¡¯s indeed mention of a murder contract, and the amounts match.¡±

    Oscar had told theplete truth¡ªexcept for the part about his possession.

    There was no room for doubt.

    As expected, Maxim spoke again.

    ¡°Frequenting bars must¡¯ve earned you some enemies. I¡¯ll close this as self-defense.¡±

    ¡°Thank you. By the way, may I ask for a favor?¡±

    ¡°¡­It¡¯s unusual for you to ask for favors. What is it?¡±

    To Maxim, who looked surprised, Oscar finally voiced the request he had been waiting for the opportunity to make.

    ¡°I wish to meet the Tower Master.¡±

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 Chapter 5

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    Chapter 5: The Most Necessary Thing (1)

    ¡°Are you talking about the Tower Master?¡±

    Maxim nodded far more easily than expected.

    ¡°That¡¯s not a difficult request. You may not remember, but you used to engage in magical debates with the Tower Master frequently.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡±

    All Oscar Crucian had left behind were materials rted to magic and the White Tower.

    There were almost no personal stories, so it was no surprise Oscar didn¡¯t know about this.

    ¡°I¡¯ll arrange a meeting for youter.¡±

    ¡°Thank you. Could it happen right now, perhaps?¡±

    ¡°Hmm, unfortunately, the earliest you¡¯ll be able to meet the Tower Master is half a year from now.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    Not half a day, but half a year?

    Shocked, Oscar asked again.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°The Tower Master is currently on a mission. They¡¯re handling the major requests directed at the Tower personally.¡±

    ¡°Why on earth is the Tower Master dealing with that directly...?¡±

    As Oscar spoke, he realized the reason and let his words trail off.

    ¡°Because there are no high-level mages left, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°...It¡¯s shameful, really.¡±

    The fact that the Tower Master had to personally work on-site painted a clearer picture of the White Tower¡¯s downfall than any document could.

    ¡°If you don¡¯t mind me asking, what is the Tower Master¡¯s level?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re a Level 7 High Mage.¡±

    ¡°Level 7...¡±

    Oscar bit his lip.

    At that age, he had been on the verge of reaching Level 9, but only Level 7?

    It was likely due to the numerous responsibilities pulling them away from magical training.

    Then, as Maxim reviewed the report again, he asked casually:

    ¡°The report mentions that the cut on the injury was exceptionally clean. Have you been practicing offensive magic again?¡±

    ¡°Well, just on asion when the mood strikes.¡±

    ¡°...On asion, is it?¡±

    Maxim smiled faintly.

    Practicing a basic spell like Wind Cutter ¡°on asion¡± could never yield such precision.

    Especially not for someone like Oscar, who was afflicted with mana depletion syndrome.

    ¡®He¡¯s probably downying it to avoid raising expectations unnecessarily.¡¯

    Despite his young appearance, the boy was wise beyond his years.

    He would bring it up when he felt the time was right.

    Understanding this, Maxim refocused on his stack of documents and dismissed Oscar.

    ¡°I¡¯ve said what I needed to. You may go now.¡±

    * * *

    Back in his room, Oscar locked the door, drew the curtains, and even removed the speaker on the ceiling.

    The reason for his obsessive precautions was simple:

    ¡®First, I¡¯ll repair my damaged circuits.¡¯

    This was a task that required the highest level of concentration.

    Any slight misstep could lead to a mana surge, making meticulous preparation essential.

    ¡°Phew.¡±

    After ensuring everything was ready, Oscar took a deep breath and sat upright on a single-seater sofa.

    Then, he slowly closed his eyes, focusing all his senses inward.

    ¡®......¡¯

    Every human possessed twenty mana circuits within their body.

    In the eastern nation of Yeon, they were called the Twelve Principal Meridians and Eight Extraordinary Meridians.

    ¡®What a pitiful universe.¡¯

    Unlike his previous life¡¯s body, where all circuits shone like stars, this one flickered dimly like candlelight.

    Inspecting each circuit, Oscar nodded to himself.

    ¡®I can¡¯t afford to overdo it.¡¯

    The original n was to unblock all twenty circuits at once.

    But after a quick examination, he could tell¡ª

    Such a reckless attempt would destroy this fragile body.

    ¡®I¡¯ll focus on the first twelve circuits today.¡¯

    Known in the East as the Twelve Principal Meridians, these were the key circuits of the body.

    Their tangled state was the root cause of his disrupted mana flow and storage.

    Fixing these would allow mana to circte freely again.

    ¡°......¡±

    Oscar began drawing up mana slowly.

    The speed at which it moved through the parched circuits was agonizingly slow.

    ¡®This won¡¯t do.¡¯

    He needed more mana and greater force to break through the tightly knotted circuits.

    Fortunately, he had an abundant supply of mana avable.

    ¡®The illicit potions I took.¡¯

    This unabsorbed, raw mana floated aimlessly inside his body.

    Gathering everyst bit, Oscar directed it toward the circuits in a single burst.

    ¡°...Guh!¡±

    A wave of excruciating pain crashed over him.

    It felt as if every muscle in his body was being twisted likeundry.

    But now that he had started, there was no turning back.

    ¡®It¡¯s a race against time now.¡¯

    The sheer volume of mana he injected was too much for his circuits to handle.

    If he prolonged this state, the circuits would inevitably snap.

    He had to unblock the pathways to relieve the pressure swiftly.

    ¡®Faster, faster.¡¯

    What started as a gentle trickle of mana soon surged like a raging river.

    Blood trickled from his lips, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

    ¡®Here ites, the first one.¡¯

    Clenching his fists tightly, Oscar braced himself.

    Boom!

    A deafening explosion rang in his mind, and his body jolted.

    ¡°...!¡±

    Having cleared the first pathway, Oscar steeled himself and moved on to the next.

    Bang! Boom! Crash!

    Each sessive breakthrough sent thunderous echoes through his head.

    The pain intensified, but so did the flow of mana through his circuits.

    ¡®Just a little more. Almost there.¡¯

    The ninth, tenth, eleventh...

    Reaching the final pathway, Oscar bit down hard to keep himself conscious.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    ¡®Thest one!¡¯

    BOOM!

    A thunderous roar apanied by overwhelming pain swallowed the remnants of his consciousness.

    * * *

    Chirp, chirp!

    The sound of birdsong gently roused him.

    Opening his eyes, Oscar quickly assessed his surroundings and realized he was walking through the garden on the 10th floor of the White Tower.

    ¡®......¡¯

    The only sce was that he wasn¡¯t a sleepwalker.

    The unfortunate part?

    Being a sleepwalker would have been preferable.

    This was an ursed nightmare.

    ¡®Damn this dream curse.¡¯

    The reason he avoided sleep to a near-obsessive degree was precisely this.

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    Because of the curse branded on him by the Baron Nightmare, every time he slept, he was forced to relive memories of his past.

    For most, forgetting was a blessing.

    For him, it was an unattainable dream.

    ¡®Not even when I was Level 9 could I lift this curse. Honestly, I had hoped it would dissipate when I reincarnated into this body...¡¯

    But no¡ªthis curse was etched into his very soul, not his flesh.

    Shaking off the disappointment, Oscar resigned himself to watching his past unfold like a y.

    There was nothing else he could do.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s wrap up today¡¯s lesson here. That sound good?¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir!¡±

    When he turned around to speak, his bunny-like students responded in unison.

    ¡°What was today¡¯s lesson about?¡±

    ¡°You were going to teach us about the branches of mana!¡±

    The eldest student, Lloyd, answered withposure and rity.

    ¡°You said mages and knights categorize mana into four main branches, calling it the Four Paths of Mana.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. While mana might appear uniform, it¡¯s actually divided into four categories: Speed, Reinforcement, Harmony, and Specialty.¡±

    ¡°And the White Tower focuses on Harmony, correct?¡±

    ¡°Exactly. Harmony is the path that bestplements wind magic.¡±

    Just as the Yellow Tower chased speed, and the Red Tower embodied reinforcement, the Blue and White Towers were champions of Harmony.

    At that moment, Gillie, the second disciple, raised her hand energetically and made a request.

    "Master, I want to be in the speed attribute! Slow stuff is so frustrating!"

    "That¡¯s unfortunate, Gillie. You don¡¯t get to choose your magic attribute. It¡¯s something you¡¯re born with."

    "Then how do you figure out what you¡¯re born with?"

    When Sasha frowned and asked, Oscar pressed a finger to his furrowed brows, responding with a smile.

    "Rx. You¡¯ll get wrinkles. The method to find your magic attribute is simpler than you think."

    With a few quick motions, Oscar picked up a branch and drew a magical form in the dirt.

    "Sasha, extend your index finger and try using this magic."

    "It¡¯s a form I¡¯ve never seen before, so I¡¯ll need a bit of time¡­"

    "Take your time. No rush."

    "Okay!"

    With a spirited response, Sasha crouched before the form and, after some effort, activated the magic.

    A thread of mana flickered to life on her fingertip, like a tiny candle me.

    "Hmm. It¡¯s neither as swift as the speed attribute nor as powerful as the reinforcement attribute. You¡¯re part of the harmony attribute."

    "Just like you, Master?"

    "That¡¯s right."

    "Hehe, then I like it!"

    Beaming, Sasha grinned as Gillie took his turn.

    As soon as she used the magic, the mana me shot up instantly.

    "¡­Gillie, you¡¯re in the speed attribute."

    "Yes! Long live speed!"

    It suited her impatient and boisterous personality well.

    Oscar chuckled softly and turned his gaze.

    "Now,st up¡ªLloyd, it¡¯s your turn."

    "Do I do it like this?"

    Lloyd calmly performed the form, and to everyone¡¯s astonishment, a flower blossomed at the tip of his finger.

    Sasha pped her hands in delight.

    "Wow! A flower! So pretty! It¡¯s like magic!"

    "You mean ¡®magic.¡¯ Dummy."

    "Lloyd, you¡¯re in the rare attribute."

    "¡­Master, is there no way to change one¡¯s attribute once it¡¯s determined?"

    When Lloyd¡¯s expression turned noticeably glum, Oscar patted his head.

    "ording to the Imperial Magic Department¡¯s research, rare attributes ount for only 0.2% of all mages. Why would you want to change such a rare gift? Not that you could, even if you wanted to."

    "I just¡­ I¡¯d rather have the harmony attribute, like you, Master¡­"

    "Hmm, is that so? Then what should I do?"

    Oscar scratched his head, pretending to be troubled. He knew his young disciple all too well.

    "I was nning to give you the most personal lessons, but I guess I should look for a way to change your attribute instead."

    At those words, Lloyd¡¯s ears perked up like a rabbit''s.

    "¡­The most personal lessons, you said?"

    "Of course. Rare attributes are incredibly difficult to master without the proper guidance."

    Hearing this, Lloyd quickly brightened, as if he¡¯d never been upset.

    "Well, now that I think about it, being in the rare attribute isn¡¯t so bad. But you must promise to give me the most personal lessons."

    Looking at the tiny pinky Lloyd held out, Oscar hooked his own around it.

    ¡®That¡¯s right. His nickname was the ¡°Promise Fiend,¡± wasn¡¯t it?¡¯

    No matter how grown-up he tried to act, he was still a child.

    Watching his disciples onest time, Oscar let the floating sensation envelop him.

    It was time to wake from the dream.

    * * *

    "¡­."

    He was fortunate.

    Dreams featuring his disciples rarely reached the "corruption" stage.

    Checking the clock, he saw five hours had passed.

    Thanks to a deep sleep, his body and mind felt refreshed.

    ¡®No, perhaps it wasn¡¯t just because of that.¡¯

    The flow of his mana was now iparably smooth.

    Out of 20 blocked mana circuits in his body, 12 had been unlocked, and his mana pathways had increased from one to two lines.

    Moreover, the pure mana he had absorbed left him with a vast amount, far exceeding his level.

    Oscar chuckled in disbelief.

    "Who would¡¯ve thought I¡¯d ever be thrilled to call myself a Level 2 mage?"

    Some concepts remain unchanged regardless of time.

    Just as the moon rises after the sun sets, and spring follows winter, the system of mage and knight levels was an immutable standard.

    ¡®The level distinction lies in the number of mana circuits installed in the body.¡¯

    - Level 1: One circuit

    - Level 2: Two circuits

    - Level 3: Three circuits

    - Level 4: Four circuits¡­

    Each additional mana circuit marked a new level.

    ¡®I was a Level 9 mage in my previous life.¡¯

    An extraordinary existence with nine mana circuits installed.

    Reaching that height had been no easy feat.

    ¡®¡­It wasn¡¯t easy, but it¡¯s not impossible to do it again.¡¯

    He had walked that path once before.

    While his memory might blur at certain crossroads, he would never stray entirely from the right path.

    ¡®Step by step, let¡¯s climb that path again.¡¯

    With renewed resolve, Oscar sat up.

    ¡®Speaking of which, what¡¯s my own attribute?¡¯

    Using the attribute-checking magic on himself, he smiled faintly.

    Mana rose gently, neither slow nor fast, in a modest size.

    ¡®So, I¡¯m part of the harmony attribute too.¡¯

    It was a bnced type with no ring strengths or weaknesses.

    Its sole drawback was the slow umtion of mana¡ª the slowest of all attributes.

    But that hardly mattered.

    ¡®I¡¯ll just do what I did before.¡¯

    He invented a mana breathing technique that is capable of maintaining constant mana absorption 24/7.

    It was one of his proudest achievements, a method that erased the sole w of the harmony attribute.

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 Chapter 6

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    Chapter 6: The Most Necessary Thing (2)

    It was lunchtime.

    Oscar, who had hastily made do with a can of soup from the pantry, stepped out of his room.

    [10th floor.]

    As the door of the magical elevator opened, he was greeted by a dazzling wave of colors.

    This was the garden on the 10th floor, a ce he often visited to walk around and think deeply.

    With an entire floor dedicated to it, calling it a "garden" didn¡¯t do it justice¡ªit was more of a grand park.

    ¡°Ah, this feels good.¡±

    The fresh air seeped deeply into his lungs, brightening his mood.

    Oscar stretched lightly, loosening up his stiff body.

    ¡®This guy''s basic stamina isn¡¯t all that great, probably because he¡¯s been holed up in his room, focusing solely on research.¡¯

    Just yesterday, he waspletely exhausted from a single outing.

    Frankly, it was a bit disappointing.

    The ideal wizard he envisioned had physical strength on par with a knight.

    Moreover, his unique ¡°Oscar-stylebat method¡± required stamina as a fundamentalponent.

    ¡®For now, let¡¯s just do a lightp around.¡¯

    As he began jogging, the scenery around him zipped by.

    With fresh oxygen fueling his brain, his mind felt clearer.

    ¡®At least this is a good first step.¡¯

    The normalization of Oscar Crucian¡¯s physical circuits¡ªsomething he¡¯d longed for¡ªhad been sessfullypleted.

    Though eight circuits were still bound, attempting to unlock them now would be too risky.

    ¡®It¡¯d be safer to wait until I reach Level 5. By then, I¡¯ll have a body that can withstand most shocks.¡¯

    He could afford to forego activating the main pathways for now since they were primarily used for advanced magic.

    ¡®¡­And my new magic breathing technique is working well.¡¯

    He was constantly absorbing mana without rest.

    The best part of this breathing technique was that it could continue 24/7, even while he was sleeping.

    If only his subordinates hadn¡¯t given it the embarrassing name ¡°Oscar-style Breathing,¡± everything would have been perfect.

    ¡®If nothing out of the ordinary happens, I¡¯ll reach Level 3 within two months and Level 4 within half a year.¡¯

    At that level, he wouldn¡¯t be dismissed as a ¡°half-wit mage.¡±

    But given the uing White Night Festival, even that felt too slow.

    With thoughts like these swirling in his mind, Oscar slowed down his pace.

    ¡°Here¡­¡±

    He had arrived at the clearing where he used to teach his students¡ªa ce still vivid in his memories.

    Remembering the dream he had about them, he gazed at the clearing with a somewhat wistful look.

    ¡®I promised Lloyd I¡¯d give him more private lessons.¡¯

    To be honest, he barely remembered making that promise.

    With the escting war after that day, he had spent more time on battlefields than in the Magic Tower, surrounded by corpses rather than his students.

    ¡°¡­¡­¡±

    Why had he, as their teacher, failed to keep more promises than he¡¯d honored?

    He felt a pang of guilt for Lloyd, but also a faint sense of bitterness.

    ¡®Really, Lloyd as the Red Tower Master''s disciple? Isn¡¯t that too much?¡¯

    That old man wasn¡¯t as skilled in magic as he was, had a strange personality, and, frankly, Oscar had him beat in looks, too.

    ¡®¡­Above all, that old man and Lloyd are just notpatible.¡¯

    Lloyd, mature and sensitive, had apletely opposite mindset.

    The Red Tower Master would likely tease him out of habit, putting him through all sorts of mental hardships.

    But if Lloyd had chosen him as his teacher, there must have been apelling reason.

    ¡®I¡¯m curious.¡¯

    He was dying to know what had happened and why Lloyd had made that choice.

    But meeting Lloyd wasn¡¯t feasible right now.

    As a Level 2 mage, there was no way he could encounter someone of the Red Tower Master¡¯s status.

    ¡°Eventually, I¡¯ll end up back at the White Tower.¡±

    Rebuilding the fallen White Tower would naturally improve his own reputation.

    As that happened, he would have the opportunity to reconnect with Lloyd.

    ¡®¡­So, where should I start for maximum effect?¡¯

    In his mind, he held a vast amount of knowledge worthy of being called the history of the White Tower, much of which had been lost when the demonic tribe invaded 20 years ago.

    ¡®Thankfully, I can release this information bit by bit without raising too much suspicion.¡¯

    That was thanks to the legacy of Oscar Crucian himself.

    Recognized as a theoretical genius, he had pursued research obsessively in every field.

    In other words, he could freely release research results without arousing doubt.

    Just as he was carefully building up his White Tower reconstruction ns in his mind, something caught his attention.

    ¡°Hm?¡±

    A white-haired old man in a maintenance uniform approached him from the opposite direction and greeted him warmly.

    ¡°Is that you, Little Oscar?¡±

    ¡°¡­Do I know you?¡±

    The old man sighed, looking saddened by the question, and bowed his head.

    ¡°I¡¯m Walter, from the Magic Tower¡¯s Facility Maintenance Department. I heard a rumor that you lost your memory, and it seems to be true.¡±

    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s right. Did we know each other well?¡±

    ¡°Hmm. I don¡¯t know if I¡¯d say we were close, but you used to chat with me from time to time when we met.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ unexpected. Fran told me my personality was so bad that people barely wanted to talk to me.¡±

    Walterughed heartily.

    ¡°Ha ha! Well, it¡¯s true that you don¡¯t socialize easily, but I don¡¯t think it¡¯s because you¡¯re difficult. To me, you seemed to have a very warm heart.¡±

    ¡°So Fran was lying, then.¡±

    ¡°Haha¡­ not exactly¡­¡±

    Given Walter¡¯s vague response, perhaps his personality did have some issues.

    ¡°By the way, what does ¡®Little Oscar¡¯ mean? I don¡¯t think I¡¯m that short.¡±

    ¡°Ah, I also worked here when the former Tower Master was around. He was the one I call Great Oscar.¡±

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    ¡°¡­¡­¡±

    It was a touching realization.

    Even after 20 years, someone still remembered him.

    Oscar¡¯s face softened into a gentle smile.

    ¡°That¡¯s a nice way to put it. I think I¡¯ll start using it. I¡¯ll be dropping by asionally, so keep mepany for a chat when you can.¡±N?v(el)B\\jnn

    ¡°Haha, I¡¯d be grateful for the offer¡­ but I¡¯m afraid I won¡¯t be able to.¡±

    A rejection here?

    Did this guy really have a personality problem?

    As Oscar visibly frowned in surprise, Walter hurriedly exined.

    "Ah, of course, I don¡¯t mean to say I dislike it. It¡¯s just because I¡¯m leaving the White Tower."

    "Leaving? Where are you going?"

    "...I¡¯ve been working in this tower for almost 40 years now. Over that time, I¡¯ve served three Tower Masters, and my colleagues havee and gone countless times. Now, I¡¯m the only one left in my department. Haha."

    He lowered himself slowly, gently brushing his wrinkled hand over a flower in full bloom.

    "The previous Tower Master, Oscar Sage, said something at his inauguration. He said that no one residing in this tower was unnecessary, and he asked us to take pride in being a part of the White Tower."

    "Ahem."

    Well, this is a bit embarrassing.

    Back then, I was thrilled at being the youngest Tower Master in history.

    That¡¯s probably why I was able to say such cheesy things.

    "It may sound silly, but since then, I¡¯ve been working with the belief that I am a part of this tower."

    "It¡¯s not silly. Truly."

    Oscar responded with the utmost sincerity.

    The facilities maintenance department is responsible for maintaining and repairing various facilities within the tower.

    It might not seem critical from the outside, but without them, the tower would soon start creaking and breaking down.

    "Your serious expression is a bit embarrassing, but thank you. In any case, that¡¯s why I¡¯ve decided to quit."

    "...What exactly do you mean by that?"

    Feeling pride in being a part of the White Tower¡ªand then quitting because of it?

    Walter, slowly standing up, began to speak.

    "As you, Little Oscar, are aware, the White Tower is facing difficult times right now. For those of us working on the ground, it¡¯s something we feel deeply. Facilities I¡¯vee to see as old friends are stopping one by one, and the parts needed for repairs are barely being supplied."

    "..."

    "And it¡¯s all because the tower¡¯s finances are poor. But next month will mark exactly 40 years since I started working at the White Tower. Do you know what that means?"

    Of course, he knew.

    Oscar¡¯s eyes grew dark.

    "...It¡¯s for your long-service reward, isn¡¯t it?"

    All non-mage employees of the White Tower receive an award and a token of appreciation at their 20-year and 40-year milestones.

    The award for 40 years of dedication to the White Tower is 200,000 bels¡ªenough to buy a house in a major city.

    Walter, who had smiled faintly at Oscar¡¯s answer, slowly nodded.

    "That¡¯s right. If I¡¯m not mistaken, the White Tower currently can¡¯t afford that reward. To gather that money, you and many others would have to risk your lives toplete new quests.

    Thinking about that...I just couldn¡¯t bring myself to ept the money. No matter what anyone says, this ce is my second home."

    "...."

    The unexpected words left him speechless.

    The White Tower in this era had indeed fallen.

    He had seen it with his eyes and heard it with his ears.

    ¡®But¡­¡¯

    He hadn¡¯t realized things were so financially strained that an employee would forgo their rightful reward.

    Thinking that far, a mix of shame and anger surged within him.

    ¡®...And here I was, mocking the Blue Tower for doing everything they could to earn some money.¡¯

    Who was he to belittle and disparage their efforts to make a living?

    At least they were enjoying an era of prosperity thanks to the money they earned.

    ¡®Meanwhile, I...¡¯

    War hero, savior of humanity.

    All he had were empty, useless titles¡ªmere illusions that couldn¡¯t even reward someone who had devoted decades to the White Tower.

    "Young Master Oscar! Your hand! Your hand is bleeding!"

    Shocked, Walter rushed over to clean the blood and wrapped a bandage around it.

    "Why did you clench your fist so hard? Enough that your nails dug in. Isn¡¯t it painful?"

    "...."

    Looking down at Walter¡¯s snowy white hair, Oscar couldn¡¯t say anything.

    The stabbing pain in his palm was nothingpared to the guilt piercing his heart.

    Clenching his lips, Oscar realized what the White Tower needed most right now.

    ¡®Money.¡¯

    He had been so absorbed in the prosperity of his years as Tower Master that he¡¯d forgotten.

    Stabilityes from a well-stocked treasury.

    In a deep, resolute voice, Oscar asked,

    "When do you n to leave?"

    "In two weeks."

    Two weeks.

    Oscar, staring at the handkerchief wrapped around his palm, said,

    "¡­I¡¯d like for you to continue being my confidant, even from now on."

    "But I¡¯m about to¡­"

    "You don¡¯t have to leave."

    He would ensure this never happened again.

    "I¡¯ll make sure of it."

    Restoring the tower.

    His first goal for that was securing funds.

    [Trantor - ra]

    [Proofreader - Gun]

 Chapter 7

    [Trantor - ra]n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    [Proofreader - Gun]

    Chapter 7: The Most Necessary Thing (3)

    Oscar returned to his room and casually sat on the sofa.

    ¡®Money¡­ money, huh. How do you even make that?¡¯

    Thinking back, three main ways came to mind for how a wizard could earn money: research, lectures, and requests.

    ¡®First, research, which involves publishing results and earning rewards and royalties¡­¡¯

    This option was immediately ruled out.

    The process wasplicated, and it took the longest time to see any actual ie.

    Plus, since the whole reason he was looking to make money was the poverty of the White Tower, it would be pointless to depend on the tower for ie.

    ¡®The second is giving lectures.¡¯

    But this was also unfeasible right now.

    Who in their right mind would pay to listen to a lecture from a level 2 wizard?

    ¡®So that leaves doing requests.¡¯

    Even with that, lucrative, named requests were out of the question.

    All he could realistically do was take on minor requestsing into the White Tower.

    ¡®Like finding a lost cat or something. But jobs like that only bring in pocket change.¡¯

    With a grand goal to revive the White Tower¡¯s finances, he needed a profitable business that could generate real money.

    ¡®A business, huh.¡¯

    Oscar decided to think not from his personal perspective but from the White Tower¡¯s perspective.

    In the past, which department had brought in the most ie?

    His mouth answered the question his mind had posed.

    ¡°The potion manufacturing department.¡±

    This was the department that once served as the White Tower¡¯s cash cow.

    Nowadays, the Blue Tower had taken over that role, but in the past, the White Tower had practically monopolized the potion market.

    ¡®It¡¯s obvious why we lost out.¡¯

    The demon invasion twenty years ago had burned all their potion recipes.

    Fortunately, though, all those recipes were still stored in Oscar¡¯s mind.

    ¡®If that¡¯s the case, let¡¯s start with the potion business.¡¯

    After all, nothing else seemed as low-risk with a guaranteed return.

    The problem was deciding what potion to make.

    ¡®The ideal would be to produce a variety of potions and flood the market all at once¡­¡¯

    But with the White Tower¡¯s current financial state, that was a pipe dream.

    He needed to focus on just one, foolproof potion.

    ¡®What potion might there be that the Blue Tower hasn¡¯t been able to make a substitute for in thest twenty years?¡¯

    Oscar grabbed a stack of newspapers piled on his desk.

    If there was any hint to be found, it would be in this trove of information.

    - The rising power struggle between the ck Tower and the Blood Tower to join the ranks of the Four Great Towers.

    - Archbishop Baldwin of the El Terra Order changes ns unexpectedly during a pilgrimage in the Sirin estate; expected to conduct blessing prayers for up to a month.

    - Baran Free City¡¯s mayor found dead at home; suspected involvement of the criminal gang ¡®Purple Brigade.¡¯

    - Another setback for the White Tower? Sirin, once the continent¡¯srgest herb cultivation site, loses its prestige.

    - Baron Vince issues sudden lockdown order for his estate, sparkingints from merchants and travelers.

    Scanning through the various headlines, Oscar¡¯s eyes locked onto one line.

    ¡®...A lockdown order?¡¯

    Unless it was a wartime situation, it was rare for a lord to restrict movement through an estate.

    Intrigued, Oscar read the article in detail.

    [Baron Vince suddenly issued a lockdown order for his estate. Rumors suggest it may be connected to the outbreak of arge-scale flu in Vince a few days ago. If true, it could be the ¡®Cadena Flu,¡¯ a deadly strain that has no cure and spreads in cycles every few decades. Thest outbreak was 27 years ago¡­]

    ¡°Aha!¡±

    Oscar let out a gasp.

    ¡®That¡¯s right, the Cadena Flu.¡¯

    Twenty years ago, the White Tower had been the only one able to produce a treatment for this flu.

    It sold in staggering quantities each outbreak cycle, drawing immense envy from the Blue Tower.

    ¡®If it¡¯s still incurable, that means the Blue Tower hasn¡¯t figured it out either¡­¡¯

    Oscar stroked his chin, deep in thought.

    ¡®Then again, if the flu in Vince¡¯s estate isn¡¯t the Cadena Flu, it would be a wasted effort.¡¯

    ording to the article, the Cadena Flu was a unique virus that appeared in cycles of several decades.

    If he started manufacturing the treatment and it turned out not to be Cadena Flu¡­

    ¡®Then I¡¯d have to sit around twiddling my thumbs, hoping for an outbreak.¡¯

    Realistically, with thest outbreak being 27 years ago, it seemed about time for another one.

    However, there had been instances where it only appeared after 40 years, so it was risky to be too certain.

    ¡®Even withoutplete certainty, it¡¯s a risk worth taking if there¡¯s a minimum basis¡­¡¯

    As he furrowed his brow and reread the newspaper, Oscar paused.

    [Archbishop Baldwin of the El Terra Order changes ns unexpectedly during a pilgrimage in the Sirin estate; expected to conduct blessing prayers for up to a month.]

    Initially, he had skimmed over this article without much thought, but now, it seemed entirely different.

    * * *

    Hamel Grimwiz, Deputy Head of the White Tower, treasured this time of day most of all: a quiet time to drink tea he brewed himself and read a book.

    Unfortunately, today, he had visitors, and two of them at that.

    ¡°This time, I can¡¯t just overlook it. Embezzlement is a serious crime.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I agree that was certainly wrong. But hasn¡¯t he been reflecting on his actions?¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯re just going to let it go? Haven¡¯t you heard the saying, ¡®He who steals a needle will one day steal a cow¡¯?¡±

    ¡°No need to worry. Our tower may have needles, but there are no cows here.¡±

    ¡°Enough with the wordy! Just lock him in the seclusion chamber!¡±

    ¡°No. Besides, what¡¯s the point of confinement training for a level 1 wizard?¡±

    ¡°Sigh¡­¡±

    The fact that these elders were about to hit fifty soon made their quarrel all the more surreal.

    Listening with a detached expression, Hamel finally spoke.

    ¡°From what I¡¯ve heard, both of you make valid points.¡±

    At that, both of them nodded in agreement.

    ¡°Of course, Deputy Tower Master, you see it too!¡±

    ¡°However, locking him up for confinement training seems excessive. For him, it would amount to nothing but pointless torture.¡±

    ¡°Ugh¡­¡±

    ¡°On the other hand, doing nothing would set a bad precedent.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I admit that as well.¡±

    Having received their agreement, Hamel delivered his verdict.

    ¡°I¡¯ll sentence Oscar to repay triple the research funds he used for personal purposes.¡±

    ¡°Only triple¡­¡±

    Although Fidelina pouted slightly, she didn¡¯t offer strong resistance.

    Even that much was an enormous punishment for a Level 1 mage.

    "Then, let¡¯s move on to the next agenda item. Elder Fidelina?"

    With the Vice Tower Master''s gaze upon her, Fidelina sighed deeply.

    "¡­The tower has no money left. I think it''s time to make a decision."

    "Hmm."

    The Vice Tower Master, imagining what decision she was referring to, groaned.

    Fidelina pushed her point more forcefully.

    "Half the facilities here are unused anyway. If we just sell the equipment in the potionb, we could cover three months of living expenses."

    "¡­."

    It was an idea she had been insisting on for several months.

    Sell off the equipment in facilities that were, to be exact, unused due tock of personnel.

    "Vice Tower Master, if we keep going like this, we¡¯ll really go under. Starting next month, we won¡¯t even have the budget to fund the mages working outside. Some of us need to survive."

    "¡­."

    [Trantor - ra]

    [Proofreader - Gun]

    The Vice Tower Master, who was silently fiddling with his teacup, shook his head after a long pause of deep thought.

    "I cannot permit it."

    "Vice Tower Master!"

    "I understand how Elder Fidelina feels. I know that the one who feels the saddest seeing the starving members is the person managing the money."

    Although her personality was rough and her words sharp, she was tender-hearted.

    He sympathized with her too, forced to write "Denied" with a torn heart on every request for funding.

    "But this is the Tower."

    A ce where mages gather to explore magic, where knowledge is shared to blossom new truths¡ªthat is the Tower.

    "A closed room never lets in a fresh breeze. We can¡¯t sell off our future to satisfy today¡¯s hunger."

    "¡­Does the future even exist?"

    "Fidelina! Watch your words!"

    "Stay out of this. Someone needs to say it."

    Fidelina bit her lip and looked around.

    "That future, haven''t we already waited 20 years for it?"

    She shrugged her shoulders and looked around.

    "So why is it that I still don¡¯t see it?"

    "¡­."

    "Vice Tower Master. It¡¯s time to acknowledge it. Even if such a genius exists¡­ they¡¯re noting to our Tower."

    "¡­."

    A heavy silence settled over the room like mist.

    The Vice Tower Master, with his head down, gazed at his sunken eyes reflected in the teacup.

    "¡­Is that so?"

    Was what he had been chasing merely a stubborn obsession for a future that might nevere?

    He was just about to speak with a deep sigh when¡ª

    Knock, knock.

    Two polite knocks captured their attention.

    The Vice Tower Master looked at the two of them for a moment before saying,

    "Come in."

    The person who entered was an unexpected figure.

    He nced at the three of them and gave a small bow.

    "Hello."

    "Oscar. We were just discussing you."

    "About me¡­? Oh, regarding the disciplinary issue, I assume."

    As usual, he was quick on the uptake, making him easy to talk to¡ªthough it also meant being careful with words.

    "That¡¯s correct. Were you looking for me about that matter too?"

    "No. I actually came with a proposal."

    "A¡­proposal?"

    The Vice Tower Master¡¯s expression turned curious.

    He hade to make a proposal, not a request or plea, and this was someone who¡¯d recently caused a major incident and was awaiting discipline.

    The Vice Tower Master¡¯s curiosity piqued.

    "Alright, let¡¯s hear it. What kind of proposal is it?"

    "I understand that the Tower¡¯s financial situation isn¡¯t very good."

    "Even knowing that, he embezzled funds."

    Behind him, Elder Fidelina grumbled.

    The Vice Tower Master signaled her to hold herments and turned back.

    "I¡¯m embarrassed to admit it, but I can¡¯t deny it. What is it you want to say?"

    "I¡¯d like to start a business."

    "A business¡­? Are you suggesting this because you need funding?"

    "Yes, I need money."

    At his nod, Elder Fidelina burst intoughter.

    "Haha! The nerve! Vice Tower Master, you¡¯re not seriously considering this, are you?"

    "Hmm."

    "Are you¡­actually considering it? This boy embezzled research funds. And just a few days ago!"

    "I¡¯m aware. But conversely, don¡¯t you think he must have a reason to be so bold, even in such a situation?"

    "You''re exactly right."

    Oscar sensed it was the perfect moment to reveal his business idea.

    He pulled out a newspaper from his pocket and spread it on the table.

    "ording to this article, there¡¯s been a severe flu outbreak in the Vinse region, to the point where the area has been quarantined."

    "¡­I saw that too. People suspect it might be the Cadena Flu."

    "Yes. To put it bluntly, I¡¯d like to produce and sell a treatment and vine for it."

    The three of them all looked at him in unison.

    "A treatment? You mean for the Cadena Flu?"

    "Yes. I intend to recreate the treatment that the Tower used to have exclusive rights to."

    "This isn¡¯t even worth entertaining."

    Elder Fidelina scoffed coldly.

    "As we all know, the form for that treatment was lost twenty years ago. Since then, countless towers and pharmaceuticalpanies have tried to reproduce it, all to no avail."

    Her sharp eyes red at him.

    "Even those with vast resources and high-ranking mages failed to create the treatment¡­ And you, a mere twenty-year-old kid, think you can?"

    "¡­."

    Faced with her reasonable skepticism, Oscar slowly nodded.

    "Ipletely agree with everything you¡¯ve said. It¡¯s true that other factions have failed, and it¡¯s true that I am only a twenty-year-old."

    Then, with a soft smile, he continued.

    "But, as much as it may sound arroganting from me¡­"

    His lips curled in a gentle grin.

    The only weapon he had in this frail, young body after waking up after twenty years was meant precisely for moments like this.

    "I am a genius."

    [Trantor - ra]

    [Proofreader - Gun]

 Chapter 8

    [Trantor - ra]

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    Chapter 8: The Most Necessary Thing (4)

    "¡­Huh?"

    The cold mask Fidelina wore shattered, reced by a dumbfounded expression.

    After mouthing soundlessly for a moment, she finally managed to speak.

    "This guy''s seriously funny, huh? Did he really think he could persuade us with just those words¡­?"

    "Are you that confident?"

    "Lord Deputy Tower Master!"

    As she yelled out and looked at the Deputy Tower Master, he instead reprimanded her.

    "Elder Fidelina, Oscar Crucian came to me as a mage officially affiliated with the White Tower, seeking approval for an investment proposal. Even though you''re in charge of the tower¡¯s finances, your current behavior is far too rude."

    "¡­I apologize."

    Oscar nodded slightly as he listened to their conversation.

    He wondered why she seemed so eager to criticize him, but now it made sense¡ªshe was the elder in charge of finances.

    ¡®Alright, that''s understandable. To be fair, she has every reason to dislike me.¡¯

    For over two years, little Oscar had been receiving research funding, but he hadn¡¯t produced any promising results.

    Moreover, he had recently misused some of the funds to purchase illegal potions, which only added to her grievances.

    "Let me ask you again. Are you truly confident you can develop a cure for the Cadena gue?"

    "¡­I checked, and it seems I''ve received a total of 723,000 Bel over 17 different disbursements over the past few years."

    Considering that an ordinary farmer¡¯s annual ie, after taxes, was around 20,000 Bel, this was an enormous amount.

    In other words, the White Tower had made a ridiculously bold investment, likely because they had high hopes that the once-called genius, little Oscar, would produce something worthwhile.

    "I believe it''s time for me to repay the support I¡¯ve received, not just with gratitude but with real results."

    "¡­"

    "You asked if I¡¯m confident, right?"

    Oscar nodded resolutely.

    "I have absolute confidence. So please, invest in me."

    "¡­You¡¯re awfully confident. But unfortunately, the White Tower doesn¡¯t have the means to invest in such a venture at this time."

    Fidelina, standing next to him, crossed her arms and interjected.

    "As of next month, we won¡¯t even have enough funds to cover the expenses of the mages working outside."

    "¡­"

    "And yet you went and spent 25,000 Bel on illegal potions¡­ Ha, I don¡¯t even know why I bother."

    Oscar hadn¡¯t realized the financial situation was so severe that they had to worry about next month¡¯s budget.

    ¡®If I had started this project just a few dayster, the tower might¡¯ve already gone bankrupt.¡¯

    While he was sweating coldly, the Deputy Tower Master, deep in thought, took an envelope from his drawer.

    Maxim¡¯s face hardened as he looked at it.

    "Lord Deputy Tower Master, that money is¡­"

    "Shh."

    With a finger to his lips, the Deputy Tower Master began to speak.

    "I can invest my own funds in Oscar. But before I do, there¡¯s one thing I absolutely need to confirm."

    His eyes on Oscar became deeply serious.

    The gaze, filled with wise intensity, seemed to allow no hint of deception.

    "Do you have a reason for believing that the flu outbreak in the Vins territory is actually the Cadena gue?"

    "¡­"

    If Oscar couldn¡¯t give a satisfying answer, any hopes of investment would vanish.

    Yet, he responded calmly, without any sign of distress.

    "I based my conclusion on a single reason that led me to believe it was the Cadena gue."

    "I¡¯d like to hear what that reason is."

    "In that case, would you take a look at the newspaper I brought with me?"

    At his words, the three of them turned their attention to the newspaper.

    "If you look at page 2, you¡¯ll find an article about Archbishop Baldwin."

    Turning the page, they indeed found the relevant article.

    [Archbishop Baldwin of the El Terra Church alters his pilgrimage schedule unexpectedly, extending his stay in the remote Sirin territory for a blessing ritualsting up to a month.]

    The Deputy Tower Master nodded upon reading it.

    "Hmm. I was already aware of this information. But how does it rte to the Cadena gue?"

    "Isn''t it strange for an archbishop to stay in a ce like Sirin for an entire month?"

    This time, Elder Fidelina spoke up.

    "I thought you¡¯d say something more significant. Spending a month in Sirin during a pilgrimage isn¡¯t particrly unusual."

    "That used to be the case. But now, they only stay for a month in major cities."

    The continent¡¯s seven archbishops are far from paragons of integrity.

    In fact, they are notorious for their greed, often more so than merchants, as they need substantial funds to secure the coveted position of cardinal.

    "Let¡¯s be honest, just between us. The reason they spend a month in a major city while on pilgrimage is to meet with nobles and merchants and receive tribute. But how about Sirin?"

    This question silenced all three of them.

    With the White Tower in decline, the territory it ruled, Sirin, had no wealthy residents left to speak of.

    In other words, spending a month there would yield very little tribute.

    It was Maxim who broke the silence, finally grasping the oddity.

    "Now that you mention it, that does seem strange. But ording to the article, he¡¯s staying to deliver a blessing prayer, isn¡¯t he?"

    "Which makes it even stranger. An archbishop giving an expensive blessing prayer in a ce with no money?"

    With a hint of disbelief, Oscar chuckled and pulled a map of the continent from his pocket, spreading it out on the table.

    "As you know, the El Terra Church¡¯s pilgrimage route follows a fixed order. After Sirines Mos, followed by Melbourne and Greenvale. And then¡­"

    "¡­Vins."

    Both Fidelina and Maxim spoke the name together as they looked at the map.

    Oscar nodded.

    "Exactly. ording to El Terra doctrine, the maximum stay in each territory during a pilgrimage is one month. If I¡¯m correct, he¡¯ll spend a month in Mos, then another month each in Melbourne and Greenvale. Now, why do you think that is?"

    Oscar lightly tapped on the Vins territory on the map as if he were knocking on a door.

    "Doesn¡¯t it look like he¡¯s deliberately dying his arrival there?"

    [Trantor - ra]

    [Proofreader - Gun]

    "¡­!"

    The church interprets any unavoidable mishaps or misfortunes during a pilgrimage as a sign of the Great Earth Mother¡¯s anger.

    Naturally, someone who offends their deity cannot hope to rise to higher ranks.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    This would be almost like a death sentence for the archbishop with ambitions for the cardinal''s position.

    "I see¡­ So Archbishop Baldwin has already confirmed that the flu in Vins territory is indeed the Cadena gue and is stalling until it subsides?"

    "At least, that¡¯s how I interpreted it."

    The looks directed at Oscar changed significantly.

    "Well, your analytical skills are sharp enough, as expected from a theoretical mage. Although it''s still just a hypothesis."

    Even Fidelina, who disliked him, reluctantly acknowledged this much.

    Oscar, having made his case, looked expectantly at the Deputy Tower Master.

    ¡°Hmm.¡±

    Deputy Tower Master, who had remained silent throughout, slowly nodded his head.

    ¡°I can see why you think the flu spreading through Vins is actually Cadena.¡±

    ¡°You mean?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll invest. But I only have 30,000 bells. Is that enough to produce the cure?¡±

    ¡°With 30,000 bells¡­¡±

    Oscar closed his eyes, thinking as hard as he could.

    ¡®Even if I handle every step by myself and only use that money to buy ingredients¡­¡¯

    It wouldn¡¯t be enough.

    It would barely be enough to produce medicine for 500 people.

    ¡°¡­Sigh.¡±

    Oscar let out a deep sigh and opened his eyes.

    ¡°There¡¯s no other choice. We¡¯ll have to go with n B.¡±

    ¡°n B?¡±

    ¡°You even prepared a backup n?¡±

    ¡°Exin in detail. If it sounds like nonsense, I¡¯ll kick you out.¡±

    Oscar looked at each of them in turn before responding.

    ¡°As you know, the ones most troubled by the Cadena flu right now aren¡¯t us.¡±

    He tapped on the newspaper article, specifically on the words ¡°Archbishop Baldwin.¡±

    ¡°The ones in urgent need should pay. We¡¯ll use the money you provided to create a sample, then use it to negotiate with the Archbishop for funding.¡±

    ¡°The ones in urgent need should pay... Ha, now that I hear it, that¡¯s quite true.¡±

    Deputy Tower Master chuckled softly and nodded.

    ¡°Go ahead with the n.¡±

    ¡°Yes, then please gather the necessary ingredients for me. First¡­¡±

    Oscar listed the necessary materials and then bowed his head.

    ¡°I¡¯ll go prepare the potion workshop, so please send the ingredients there.¡±

    After he left the room, Fidelina spoke up.

    ¡°Maxim, what do you think? Do you think that kid can really make a cure?¡±

    ¡°¡­At least, he¡¯s not one to lie.¡±

    ¡°Such unwavering trust¡ªyou must think I¡¯m foolish for asking. What do you think, Lord Deputy Tower Master?¡±

    ¡°Hm.¡±

    With a meaningful smile, Deputy Tower Master slowly rose and approached the window.

    He looked up at a flock of birds flying across the clear sky.

    ¡°There once was a bird so splendid that every ruler in the world desired it.¡±

    The two listened silently as he suddenly began this story.

    ¡°But when it was discovered that the bird had contracted a terrible illness, all interest vanished as if it had never been there.¡±

    They realized this was Oscar¡¯s story.

    ¡°It must have been a harsh blow for that young bird. People who once whispered sweet words and smiled at it turned cold overnight. In the end, the wounded bird locked itself away in an old cage, no longer singing or flying. As if it had given up on everything¡­ at such a young age.¡±

    The wrinkled hands of Deputy Tower Master tightened on the window frame.

    ¡°¡­And now that bird is finally about to spread its wings again. How could I not be hopeful?¡±

    The world had dered that bird finished.

    It would never sing or soar again.

    ¡®Oscar, show those who said such things, who wished for it to be true, just how loud you can sing.¡¯

    Show them how high you can fly.

    * * *

    No one knows where the Cadena flu originated.

    Some say it was spread by demons from beyond the Red Mountains, while others im it leaked from a secret Imperialb.

    The one certain thing is that it¡¯s a deadly virus.

    ¡°Mortality rate: 3%.¡±

    Some might say, with diseases boasting a mortality rate over 30%, how dangerous could it be?

    But what makes the Cadena flu truly terrifying is its transmission speed.

    ¡®If my memory serves me right¡­¡¯

    After the first known Cadena flu case was discovered, it only took four days for the virus to engulf a city of 50,000.

    Due to this astounding transmission rate, the Imperial Royal Court ssified it as a Grade B ¡°disaster.¡±

    ¡°Hm¡­¡±

    Upon arriving at the 37th-floor potionb, Oscar looked around.

    Thanks to some upkeep, there wasn¡¯t much dust, but it seemed no work had been done here for a long time. He opened various cupboards one by one and nodded.

    ¡®Dirty, but the tools aren¡¯t broken. They¡¯ll do for potion-making.¡¯

    He had the form in his head, and the tools were in good shape.

    Soon, the materials for the cure would arrive, so there was only one thing left for him to do.

    ¡°Let¡¯s warm up a bit.¡±

    [Trantor - ra]

    [Proofreader - Gun]

 Chapter 9

    [Trantor - ra]

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    Chapter 9: It¡¯s Not Over Yet (1)

    Bubbling-

    "......"

    Oscar, wearing goggles and a gas mask, turned off themp as he stared at the sk.

    He transferred the contents into a reagent bottle with precision and no wasted motion.

    "Hmm, not bad."

    They say form is temporary, but ss is permanent.

    Now that the practice concoction was done sessfully, he felt a bit more at ease.

    ¡®I was worried about feeling a disconnect because of the new body, but thankfully, I¡¯m fine.¡¯

    In this case, it¡¯s not the body but the mind that remembers. It was also fortunate that even after 20 years, the tools were still the same.

    If he¡¯d had to deal with newfangled magical engineering tools, he would¡¯ve been lost.

    ¡°Whew, phew!¡±

    Just then, Fran entered theb, carrying a bag bigger than himself.

    Thud!

    He dropped the bag and copsed to the floor.

    ¡°Ugh, my poor back¡­.¡±

    ¡°The ingredients?¡±

    ¡°All here. Good job, right?¡±

    He handed over a crumpled receipt from his pocket.

    Oscar checked the list and nodded.

    "Well done."

    ¡°Hah, of course. I¡¯m thirsty. Got anything to drink?¡±

    ¡°I have a fatigue recovery potion.¡±

    ¡°Oh? That¡¯s expensive. I¡¯ll take it.¡±

    After chugging down the potion, Fran¡¯s face brightened with renewed energy.

    "Ah! Nice and warm. Did you make this yourself?¡±

    "Yeah."

    ¡°Where¡¯d you get the ingredients?¡±

    Oscar pointed to the back of the room.

    ¡°There were some left in the pantry.¡±

    ¡°¡­Those ingredients were bought at least ten years ago.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine, you won¡¯t die.¡±

    It¡¯s good for building immunity when you¡¯re young.

    Ignoring Fran¡¯s darkened expression, Oscar opened the bag and was impressed.

    ¡°These ingredients are in good condition. I should thank the shop ownerter.¡±

    ¡°Thank me. The shop owner actually got mad, saying I was only taking the best ones.¡±

    ¡°With that kind of eye, maybe you should quit magic and be a merchant.¡±

    You could probably make it as a top trader.

    ¡°Actually, if the White Tower copses, I might¡ªouch!¡±

    Fran suddenly yelped and held his head, looking at Oscar with wide eyes.

    ¡°Why¡¯d you hit me?¡±

    ¡°Sorry, I reacted instinctively when you mentioned the White Tower copsing.¡±

    Guess the reflexes are still there.

    ¡°¡­Seems like you haven¡¯t lost any memories, huh?¡±

    Fran pouted, suspicion in his eyes.

    ¡°So, what do I do now?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re here to help?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Elder Fidelina told me to help after delivering the materials, saying it¡¯d be hard to manage alone.¡±

    Acting like she couldn¡¯t stand him, yet she still worried.

    He didn¡¯t really need an assistant, but it can¡¯t hurt.

    ¡®Actually, this is perfect. I¡¯ve been curious about this kid.¡¯

    In young Oscar¡¯s journal, it said that the White Tower currently had a number of ¡°troublemakers.¡±

    Gifted but each one had some screw loose.

    Fran Sirius, right in front of him, was one of those troublemakers.

    ¡®If even those troublemakers got their act together, it¡¯d be a huge boost to the Tower¡¯s power.¡¯

    Oscar¡¯s insight was usually spot-on, so it wasn¡¯t a baselessment.

    Anyway, he could figure out more while making potions.

    ¡°First, let¡¯s organize the ingredients.¡±

    After a short while of bustling around, a mountain of materials was piled up on one side of theb.

    Fran put on his goggles and gas mask, eyeing the stack.

    ¡°These all seemed pretty dangerous when I bought them. They¡¯re all toxic nts, right?¡±

    ¡°Just because they¡¯re poisonous doesn¡¯t mean they can¡¯t be used in medicine.¡±

    ck lily of the valley, red safflower, ghost mushrooms, and mirva leaves.

    The ingredients were ancient, known for their use in both poisons and medicines.

    ¡°So, Fran, what¡¯s the first step in using these toxic nts?¡±

    ¡°Put them in water and boil them. Gotta remove the toxins first.¡±

    Correct.

    You have to boil them for at least twelve hours, changing the water periodically to draw out all the toxins.

    ¡°But that method has one fatal w. It removes more than just the toxins.¡±

    The beneficial medicinal properties these nts contain.

    When you remove the toxins, you also lose those valuableponents.

    ¡°With these toxic nts, after removing the toxins, only about 16% of the medicinal effects remain.¡±

    ¡°Eh? That¡¯s it?¡±

    Fran looked shocked.

    ¡°It feels like such a waste, but what choice do we have? We can¡¯t use them if we don¡¯t remove the toxins.¡±

    ¡°But what if there was a way to extract 98% of the medicinal properties without worrying about the toxins?¡±

    ¡°No way. If that were possible, you could monopolize the potion market¡­.¡±

    ¡°You could, just like the White Tower did in the past.¡±

    In fact, back when Oscar was the Tower¡¯s master, the White Tower did have a monopoly on potions.

    Realizing this, Fran¡¯s eyes shook.

    ¡°No way¡­ Are you saying you restored that method?¡±

    ¡°More or less.¡±

    Oscar picked up four ingredients and moved to the cauldron.

    He ced a perforated metal te over the boiling water.

    ¡°Fran, do you know what dumplings are? A dish from Yan country.¡±

    ¡°I know them. I¡¯ve even had them before.¡±

    ¡°Great. To make dumplings, you need a steamer.¡±

    Steaming is a method of cooking with the hot steam from boiling water.

    Oscar carefully ced the ingredients on the te, letting the steam seep into them.

    ¡°This way, we can minimize damage to the ingredients while still heating them.¡±

    Of course, leaving them there too long would still cause damage. n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om

    So, after exactly one minute and twenty seconds, he retrieved the ingredients.

    ¡°There, the prep work is done.¡±

    ¡°But the toxins are still in there, right?¡±

    ¡°Correct. Nowes the removal.¡±

    Oscar nced at him.

    ¡°You know basic magic, right?¡±

    ¡°...I¡¯m not great at it, but I know the basics.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s enough.¡±

    Oscar nodded and drew out his magic in one swift motion.

    ¡°Air Drain.¡±

    Woosh!

    As he cast the spell, steam billowed from the prepared ingredients.

    Oscar used his magic to hold the steam in ce.

    ¡°Now, we¡¯ll selectively remove only the toxins floating in the steam.¡±

    ¡°...How?¡±

    ¡°Like this.¡±

    Whoosh!

    A breeze blew, pulling the toxic elements cleanly out of the steam, as if washing dirt from a shirt.

    ¡°The remaining steam is toxin-free, so all that¡¯s left is to mix it in the right proportions. Red safflower, 23%. Mirva leaf, 47%¡­.¡±

    With a casual flick of his fingers, the steam divided into portions and filled the reagent bottles.

    Click!

    After closing thest bottle, Oscar turned around.

    ¡°Done. That¡¯s a cure for Cadena Flu. Easy, right?¡±

    ¡°...Do you even know what the word ¡®easy¡¯ means?¡±

    ¡°Stop whining and give it a try yourself.¡±

    Fran¡¯s face fell as he moved to the cauldron like a condemned man, eyes closed, trying to recall the steps.

    ¡®Damn it, how did he do it? The first step was¡­.¡¯

    Air Drain.

    Woosh!

    Fran quickly captured the steam from each ingredient and held it in ce.

    ¡®Not bad.¡¯

    Watching him, Oscar gave a small nod of approval.

    To be honest, this was something a level 3 mage would struggle to imitate after seeing it just once.

    ¡®Though his ability to control mana is a bit shaky, it''s not bad.¡¯

    At least on the surface, it didn''t look all that different from how he had done it.

    ¡®But I guess that''s as far as he goes.¡¯

    After stabilizing the steam, Fran could only struggle without doing anything further.

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    He kept ncing over like a dog in need of a bathroom break, as if he was subtly asking for help¡­

    Finally, Oscar asked.

    "Why are you just standing there?"

    "Geez, you know I can¡¯t dual cast!"

    Dual casting was the ability to use two different spells simultaneously, a skill typically only grasped by mages at level 4 or 5.

    "Well, someone like you, a genius, probably picked it up early."

    "It¡¯s not that I¡¯m a genius. It¡¯s easy if you know the trick."

    It was like learning to ride a bike.

    Once you learned, you never forgot.

    Oscar asked in a gentle voice.

    "Every time you try dual casting, your mana flow tangles up and backfires, doesn¡¯t it?"

    "H-How did you¡­!"

    Before Fran could add anything, Oscar spoke up.

    "I¡¯ll teach you. Dual casting."

    Fran¡¯s ears perked up at the offer.

    It made sense since dual casting was a secret skill no one easily shared.

    Unless you were born into a family of mages or had a high-ranking mage as a mentor, you¡¯d have to figure it out on your own.

    "¡­Really? You''re not lying?"

    "Really. It¡¯s easy once you know the concept."

    Oscar raised both hands, each showing one or two fingers.

    "Alright, you see two hands in front of you. Which hand is more suited for dual casting?"

    "Well¡­ the right hand, I guess."

    "Why do you think that?"

    "You¡¯ve got two fingers extended¡ªsomehow that feels like dual casting would work better."

    "Correct. So what do you think these fingers represent?"

    "The number of spells? Because it¡¯s dual casting?"

    "Wrong."

    Oscar smiled faintly.

    "This is where most mages go wrong with dual casting. They get fixated onpleting two spells simultaneously."

    "¡­Isn¡¯t that how it¡¯s supposed to be?"

    "Nope. If you¡¯re off-track from the beginning, you¡¯ll never reach the correct destination."

    He wiggled his right hand, forming a V with two fingers.

    "These two fingers actually represent mana."

    "Huh? Mana, not spells?"

    Fran looked baffled, repeating the unexpected answer.

    "Yeah. Think about it. When someone who can¡¯t dual cast tries to summon mana as usual, then abruptly splits it in two before casting¡ªof course the flow would get tangled and backfire. That¡¯s an advanced technique for people already used to dual casting."

    "In other words, it¡¯s like trying to run before you can walk?"

    "Exactly. The proper way to practice dual casting is to prepare two streams of mana from the start: one for Spell A, the other for Spell B. That way, the flow doesn¡¯t tangle."

    "Ah¡­"

    Fran¡¯s pupils shook slightly.

    Listening to it, the exnation felt simple and obvious.

    "Why didn¡¯t I think of this sooner? Every failure was because the mana flow tangled."

    "You were in a rush."

    Oscar exined, answering Fran¡¯s question.

    "You want to dual cast as soon as possible, to get ahead of others. But where would you find time to look back and pinpoint what went wrong? People tend to just keep trying until it works, only grasping this method when they¡¯re around level 4 or 5."

    That must be why there¡¯s the saying, ¡®More haste, less speed,¡¯ he thought.

    Oscar shrugged.

    "Alright, now that you know the method, give it a shot."

    Fran closed his eyes, concentrating for a long moment before slowly opening them.

    "Prepare two streams of mana from the start, then summon them one by one¡­"

    Hepleted each spell.

    Although the concept was unfamiliar, Fran instinctively controlled the two flows of mana.

    Unlike before, the mana flow didn¡¯t tangle at all.

    As a result, Fran stared nkly at the two magic circles before him and muttered.

    "¡­Wow. This was that easy?"

    "Magic¡¯s always like that. Once you seed, it always seems simple."

    Fran, wearing a slightly dejected look, asked in confusion.

    "So why is this so highly regarded that no one teaches it openly?"

    "They don¡¯t want to."

    People who took until level 4 or 5 to grasp it don¡¯t want to give it away freely to younger mages.

    This attitude became like a tradition.

    To Oscar, who had already lived one life, it seemed nothing more than foolishness.

    ¡®That¡¯s all stubbornness and pride.¡¯

    In a bloody battlefield, there was no ce for such customs.

    To survive another day, people constantly shared secrets and coborated.

    ¡®That¡¯s the kind of culture the White Tower needs now.¡¯

    Not useless traditions or empty formalities, but active teaching and sharing of knowledge.

    Oscar looked at Fran, who had set a good example, with pride.

    "Good job. You¡¯ve got talent. Honestly, I didn¡¯t expect you to seed on the first try."

    "Well, that¡¯s thanks to your great exnation¡­"

    Though embarrassed, Fran couldn¡¯t hide his excitement.

    This guy was weak topliments, huh?

    Oscar smirked, ncing at the clock.

    "Alright, now that you can dual cast, let¡¯s make the antidote again."

    Thanks to Fran¡¯s unexpectedly fast learning, they quickly used up the materials.

    "Whew, I¡¯m exhausted. I did well, didn¡¯t I?"

    "Yeah, you did good."

    Fran flopped down as soon as they finished.

    Meanwhile, Oscar, who¡¯d been equally engrossed, just checked the vials with a tired gaze.

    "About 514 bottles. Not bad."

    That should be plenty for negotiating with Archbishop Baldwin.

    A pleased smile spread across his lips when¡ª

    "Oscar!"

    Bam!

    Theb door flew open, and Maxim entered with a grave expression.

    "There¡¯s a problem."

    "What is it?"

    Maxim handed over a report instead of answering.

    [Blue Tower and Newtech Pharma spotted visiting Sirin an hour ago. Likely meeting with Archbishop Baldwin.]

    "Looks like¡­ we were a step toote."

    Well, of course.

    An archbishop like him wouldn¡¯t waste time without backup ns.

    "The Blue Tower and Newtech. So these are Archbishop Baldwin¡¯s countermeasures, huh."

    After scanning the report, Oscar spoke.

    "This is certainly unwee news."

    "This isn¡¯t the time to sound so calm. If they¡¯ve already signed a deal with him for the antidote¡­"

    "Our antidote would be useless."

    Even if theirs was more effective, the White Tower wouldn¡¯t want to antagonize the well-established Blue Tower for it.

    Maxim patted Oscar¡¯s shoulder in constion.

    "Cheer up. Life has its bad days. There are other ways to make money."

    "¡­No. It¡¯s not over yet."

    "But there¡¯s nothing we can¡­"

    "There is one way we can try."

    Oscar raised his head, his eyes shining with resolve.

    Surprised by his unyielding gaze, Maxim asked.

    "One way? What do you mean?"

    "A speed race."

    "¡­A speed race?"

    "Yes."

    Oscar, with a serious face, asked a seemingly unrted question.

    "The Elder¡¯s flight speed¡ªit¡¯s faster than most carriages, right?"

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 Chapter 10

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    Chapter 10: It¡¯s Not Over Yet (2)

    The El-Terra Church was the state religion of the Empire, worshiping Terra, the Mother Goddess of allnds.N?v(el)B\\jnn

    ¡°Sigh¡­¡±

    Baldwin, one of the seven Archbishops of the church, was troubled by a recent development.

    ¡°Of all things, it had to be the Cadena Flu.¡±

    To make matters worse, the flu had broken out in the Vins territory, a significant destination on the pilgrimage route.

    At this rate, he¡¯d have to halt the pilgrimage.

    ¡°...No, it¡¯s uneptable. Absolutely not.¡±

    Baldwin shook his head.

    He hadn¡¯t endured decades in the cutthroat world of church politics, leaving no room for error, only to let a minor flu risk destroy all he had achieved for his ambition to be Cardinal.

    ¡®What nonsense.¡¯

    He thought, eyes aze with ambition.

    Knock knock.

    ¡°Archbishop, the guests you requested are here.¡±

    ¡°Bring them in.¡±

    As the door opened, two men entered and respectfully bowed.

    ¡°El Sia. By your grace, we have safely arrived.¡±

    ¡°El Sia. May the Goddess bless our meeting.¡±

    The Archbishop returned their greeting with a nod.

    ¡°El Sia. Please, both of you, take a seat.¡±

    Seated at the head of afortable sofa, he began.

    ¡°I heard you arrived in Sirin two days ago, but I was so upied that I¡¯m only now able to meet you.¡±

    ¡°No worries, Archbishop. We understand how busy you must be. I¡¯m Moira Main, a Level 5 mage from the Blue Tower.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you. I¡¯m Neil Brion, Executive Vice President of NewTech Pharmaceuticals.¡±

    The Blue Tower was one of the four Great Towers, and NewTech was a corporation known across the continent for raking in profits.

    ¡°So, what¡¯s the status on the joint project to develop a cure for the Cadena Flu?¡±

    Moira smiled at the Archbishop¡¯s question.

    ¡°Progress is steady. As you know, the Blue Tower has a long history of potion making, and NewTech here is the top pharmaceuticalpany, producing everything from cold medicines and painkillers to addiction treatments. There¡¯s no drug we can¡¯t make, Archbishop.¡±

    The Archbishop¡¯s face brightened at their confident assurance.

    ¡°Haha, hearing that eases my worries. So, how long until it¡¯splete?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re only at the clinical trial stage now.¡±

    ¡°Once we pass that phase, we¡¯ll apply for official approval from the Empire¡¯s Food and Drug Administration.¡±

    ¡°Oh!¡±

    Seeing that things were progressing smoothly, the Archbishop sped his hands in prayer.

    ¡°El Sia. The Mother Goddess is watching over this humble servant.¡±

    ¡°However¡­¡±

    After a pause, Moira spoke cautiously, reading his expression.

    ¡°As you know, clinical trials are not a process that can bepleted overnight.¡±

    ¡°If we rush just to meet a deadline, the treatment could end up ineffective or even dangerous.¡±

    ¡°In short, when can we expect it on the market?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯llplete it within six months, no matter what.¡±

    ¡°Six months!?¡±

    The Archbishop¡¯s face twisted with frustration, and he raised his voice.

    ¡°That¡¯s impossible! I have to be in Vins territory in four months, ording to church guidelines! No matter what, finish it and have it ready by then!¡±

    ¡°But that schedule¡­¡±

    ¡°Silence!¡±

    BANG!

    His fist hit the armrest of the expensive sofa, and silence settled over the room.

    The quiet was broken by a knock.

    ¡°Archbishop, another mage has arrived.¡±

    ¡°Tsk. Bring them in.¡±

    Calming down, the Archbishop turned to the two men.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me there was another person?¡±

    ¡°Pardon? There isn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just the two of us.¡±

    Then who¡­?

    As the three of them turned to the door, a figure entered.

    ¡°Let me see¡­ the church greeting, if I remember¡­ El Sia, was it?¡±

    The neer had the elegance of a noble from a storybook, wearing a pristine white robe that perfectly suited the El-Terra Church.

    He gave a polite but not overdone bow.

    ¡°Greetings. I¡¯m Oscar Crucian, Level 2 mage of the White Tower and Head of the Potion Department.¡±

    He raised his head slowly, his eyes curving in a gentle smile.

    ¡°I¡¯m here to share some good news.¡±

    ¡°...Good news?¡±

    The Archbishop frowned.

    That phrase wasmonly used by the church¡¯s evangelists when visiting homes.

    But surely this man wasn¡¯t here to preach to the Archbishop himself.

    ¡°I dislike wasting time. What¡¯s your purpose here?¡±

    There was an edge to his voice, warning that he would not tolerate anything trivial.

    But Oscar replied calmly.

    ¡°I¡¯vee to sell you a cure for the Cadena Flu.¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡±

    The Archbishop looked at the two guests, clearly surprised.

    ¡°Well, how coincidental. We were just discussing that.¡±

    ¡°Ah, so that¡¯s why you let me in without hesitation.¡±

    Oscar casually approached the sofa and examined the other two.

    ¡°Am Ite? Have you already made a deal with them?¡±

    ¡°No, not yet.¡±

    The Archbishop shook his head firmly.

    ¡°They¡¯re still figuring out how to proceed.¡±

    ¡°Lucky for me, then.¡±

    ¡°And what about the White Tower?¡±

    Oscar, having gauged what the Archbishop wanted to hear, responded confidently.

    ¡°The White Tower is ready to make a deal immediately.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a lie!¡±

    Moira of the Blue Tower jumped up, shouting.

    ¡°Everyone knows the White Tower¡¯s situation. What funds or expertise could they possibly have to produce a cure?¡±

    ¡°...Hmm.¡±

    Finding Moira¡¯s objection reasonable, the Archbishop nodded.

    ¡°Certainly a logical concern. Oscar... was it?¡±

    ¡°Crucian. Oscar Crucian.¡±

    ¡°Right, Oscar Crucian. Do you really have the cure?¡±

    Oscar took out a small wooden box from his robe and set it before the Archbishop.

    ¡°A sample of the Cadena Flu cure.¡±

    ¡°Oh!¡±

    The Archbishop opened the box, examining the vial before nodding thoughtfully.

    ¡°Hmm. But there¡¯s no way to know if this is genuine or not...¡±

    He seemed to consider something for a moment before speaking.

    ¡°If we were to make a deal, by when, and how many doses could you supply?¡±

    ¡°Archbishop Baldwin!¡±

    Feeling betrayed, Moira raised her voice, but the Archbishop shouted back.

    ¡°How dare you! You¡¯re in no position to speak up!¡±

    ¡°But, that¡¯s not what I meant¡­¡±

    ¡°Weren¡¯t you the ones unprepared for this transaction?¡±

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    ¡°But that¡¯s only because we¡¯re waiting for the Food and Drug Administration¡¯s approval... Ah!¡±

    Moira looked back at the vial, realization dawning on her.

    ¡°Hey, that cure. Has it received approval from the FDA?¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡±

    ¡°Hah! I knew it. Archbishop, see, the White Tower is in the same boat as us.¡±

    ¡°...Ahem.¡±

    The Archbishop discreetly ced the vial back on the table.

    No matter how urgent things were, he couldn¡¯t risk purchasing an unapproved, untested cure.

    Seeing this, Moira continued to make her case.

    ¡°Archbishop, once we get approval from the Food and Drug Administration, we¡¯ll be able to match the quantities you need through factories across the continent. There''s no other ce here with a faster production process than ours."

    "¡­."

    "Above all, that treatment was created by the White Tower. I guarantee that a treatment developed through the coboration between the long-standing Blue Tower and NewTech, the continent''s top pharmaceuticalpany, would be far more effective."

    The Archbishop, after nodding once, turned his gaze toward Oscar.

    "What do you think? If you have nothing in particr to say, I¡¯d like to have a deeper conversation with these two."

    "¡­I acknowledge that we have not received approval from the FDA and aregging in production speed. However¡­¡±

    A faint, mocking smile spread across his lips.

    "Isn''t it a bit ridiculous for the Blue Tower to boast about its long history? Especially in front of the White Tower."

    "What?"

    Moira Main''s face stiffened.

    At that same moment, a killing intent sharp enough to make an ordinary Level 2 mage struggle to breathe pricked at his skin.

    "I''ll give you a chance to take that back, assuming it''s just a foolish slip-up from a lowly Level 2 mage."

    "Well, it''s only a slip-up if I was wrong¡­"

    Oscar, unaffected by the killing intent, looked back with a genuinely puzzled expression.

    "Why don¡¯t you answer this directly? Which was the first mage tower established in this continent''s history?"

    "¡­Are you seriously trying to unt a five-year head start?"

    "Just five years?"

    Oscar emphasized those words and shrugged.

    "Interesting. Those five years you call ''just five years''¡­"

    Those are the years that every Blue Tower master has longed to close the gap on, at any cost.

    And.

    "It¡¯s five years that, no matter how many thousands or tens of thousands of years pass, will never be bridged."

    "¡­."

    That¡¯s history.

    Once recorded, it''s a truth that can never be changed, a root that can never be erased.

    "And you seem to be disregarding our treatment, but did you forget that just twenty years ago, the White Tower held a monopoly over the potion market?"

    "Hmph, that¡¯s a past no one remembers now."

    "A past no one remembers¡­."

    "¡­!"

    Moira instinctively shivered.

    Even she didn¡¯t know why.

    When that young mage¡¯s gaze turned cold, her body just reacted.

    "In that case, there''s no helping it. I¡¯ll just have to make you remember."

    "What do you mean?"

    "I mean we''re going to take back the potion market that we entrusted to the Blue Tower for a time."

    "¡­Heh, haha! Hahaha!"

    Moira threw her head back, shoulders shaking withughter.

    Afterughing for quite some time, she wiped the tears from her eyes and spoke.

    "I must be pitiful indeed, to have listened so seriously to the words of a monkey who can''t tell heaven from earth."

    Moira shook her head in exasperation and turned to the Archbishop, who had been quietly observing the situation.

    "Very well. Your Excellency, we¡¯ll be ready within four months, so let¡¯s proceed with the contract."

    "Can you take responsibility for those words?"

    "Yes. The Blue Tower will give it our all to obtain approval from the Imperial FDA. If I fail, I¡¯lly my neck on the line."

    The Archbishop nodded slowly in response to her confident statement.

    "If you''re willing to say that much, then I suppose there''s no reason for me to hesitate any longer."

    It was essentially a deration that negotiations with Oscar had fallen through.

    The Archbishop was just returning to his desk to find a pen to draft the contract when¡ª

    Bang!

    A priest burst into the room and shouted.

    "Your Excellency!"

    "How improper! We have guests here; why themotion?"

    "I''m sorry, but a message hase in through themunicator."

    "A message?"

    The Archbishop looked curiously at themunicator the priest had brought.

    "Where¡¯s the message from that would cause such a fuss? Could it be from His Holiness the Pope¡­?"

    "No, it¡¯s from Lord Vins."

    "Lord Vins?"

    Archbishop Baldwin rarely showed surprise, but this time he did.

    No wonder¡ªhe had never even met Lord Vins before.

    "I suppose we''ll find out by listening. Hand it over."

    Taking themunicator to his ear, he spoke.

    "El Sia. This is Baldwin, faithful servant of the Earth Mother."

    [Ah! El Sia! First, let me express my gratitude for Your Excellency¡¯s boundless grace.]

    "¡­Gratitude?"

    The Archbishop¡¯s expression became puzzled.

    He hadn¡¯t done anything deserving of thanks, so what gratitude was this?

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 Chapter 11

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    Chapter 11: It¡¯s Not Over Yet (3)

    The words of Lord Vins continued in the Archbishop¡¯s ear, who was clueless about what was going on.

    [Yes! I¡¯m truly impressed! When did you start preparing a cure for the Cadena Flu?]

    "Hold on. Did you just say a cure for the Cadena Flu?"

    [Yes, that''s correct. The treatment you sent us, Archbishop. I heard you secretly prepared it with the White Tower... or did I receive incorrect information?]

    ¡°¡­¡±

    The Archbishop quickly pieced together the situation and licked his lips before asking.

    ¡°How was it? Did it seem effective?¡±

    [Absolutely. Patients who received the injection recovered miraculously within a few hours. Isn¡¯t this truly a blessing from the goddess? El Sia!]

    ¡°And were there any side effects?¡±

    [Not so far. But, Archbishop¡­ I don¡¯t mean to rush you, but could you give us a hint as to when we might receive the second shipment?]

    Lord Vins spoke cautiously, disying extreme deference.

    [I asked the elder at the White Tower, but he said it was up to you to decide and left.]

    ¡°The second shipment will be sent as soon as it¡¯s ready. It shouldn¡¯t take long.¡±

    [Thank you, truly! El Sia!]

    When the call ended, the Archbishop¡¯s gazended directly on Oscar.

    ¡°Was that your work?¡±

    ¡°Yes, it seems it arrived safely.¡±

    ¡°This is a tant vition of imperialw!¡±

    Sensing the situation, Moira erupted in fury.

    ¡°Archbishop, you must consider this carefully. Imperial drug regtions prohibit the use of unapproved drugs, and vitors face a minimum prison sentence of ten years, with the death penalty possible, depending on the oue. This act directly contravenes the Imperial Food Safety Act, Article 2, use 8. It¡¯s a serious crime!¡±

    ¡°Hm.¡±

    The Archbishop, who had been somewhat concerned about this, turned away slightly.

    ¡°Did you proceed without knowing this?¡±

    ¡°No, I was aware.¡±

    ¡°See? The White Tower deliberatelymitted an illegal act for unjust profit. Such a case deserves aggravated punishment¡­¡±

    ¡°There will be no punishment.¡±

    Oscar cut her off firmly, meeting the three pairs of eyes on him with a shrug.

    ¡°You all must be a bit out of touch with thew since you''re only used to making potions.¡±

    ¡°Ridiculous! The Blue Tower''s potion department is thoroughly versed in all legal interpretations concerning food safety...¡±

    ¡°Oh, I''m not talking about the food safetyws. I¡¯m talking about wartimews.¡±

    ¡°Wartimews? What does wartimew have to do with treatment?¡±

    Oscar chuckled softly.

    There was no way this vast empire was always peaceful.

    What looks serene now was built upon countless wars andyers of bloodshed.

    Hence, the empire¡¯sws on warfare had grown extensive.

    ¡°Peace has reigned for thest twenty years, so they likely haven¡¯t been reviewed in a while.¡±

    Oscar swallowed an unknown bitterness and spoke in a calm voice.

    ¡°Twenty-two years ago, in the war with the demon tribes, the weapon that took the most imperial lives was not their swords or magic, but disease. The empire''s talented mages quickly developed a cure and a vine, but the lengthy approval time for food and drug regtions posed a huge problem. It was clear that these outdatedws couldn¡¯t keep up with the urgency of war. In response, the Emperor added this provision to Article 42, use 8 of the wartimews: during wartime, medicines for treating the injured are ssified as special medical supplies, exempt from the Imperial Food Safety Act.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not at war now, so what¡¯s your point...?¡±

    ¡°There are three cases in which the Calderan Empire officially acknowledges a wartime situation.¡±

    First: when war breaks out with another race or nation.

    Second: when rebel forces rise within the empire.

    ¡°And the third.¡±

    Oscar¡¯s voice turned as cold as ice.

    ¡°When a B-grade or higher disaster threatens the safety of imperial citizens.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    A deep, heavy silence fell over the room.

    He looked at Moira, whose face had turned pale as she grasped what he was saying.

    ¡°Although it¡¯s on the lowest level, the Cadena Flu is still ssified as a B-grade natural disaster. Therefore, there¡¯s no need to obtain approval from the Imperial Food and Drug Administration to treat it. Judging from your reaction, I assume you didn¡¯t know.¡±N?v(el)B\\jnn

    ¡°That, that¡¯s¡­¡±

    Moira, flustered and barely able to hold herself together, was quickly assisted by Neil Brion.

    ¡°Archbishop, that changes nothing.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°It means that if the White Tower can do it, so can we. We¡¯ll send all of our treatments to Vins immediately¡­¡±

    ¡°It seems you still don¡¯t understand the situation.¡±

    ¡°Pardon?¡±

    The Archbishop clicked his tongue in disappointment.

    ¡°The moment the White Tower¡¯s cure arrived in Vins, this contest was over.¡±

    There are only seven Archbishops on the continent, figures of tremendous religious and political authority.

    Moreover, Baldwin, who¡¯s eyeing the rank of cardinal, would not want even a trace of a blemish on his record.

    ¡°Lord Vins believes I coborated with the White Tower to prepare the cure. How would it look if an Archbishop went back on his word?¡±

    ¡°¡­We¡¯ll lower the price further.¡±

    The Archbishop¡¯s eyes flickered with annoyance at the suggestion.

    ¡°Are you implying that you can buy my honor with mere money?¡±

    ¡°No, I didn¡¯t mean that at all¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m highly offended. Leave now; I don¡¯t want to hear more.¡±

    Faced with a clear dismissal, the two had no choice but to depart.

    As Moira passed by Oscar, she muttered lowly.

    ¡°I¡¯ll repay this debt one day.¡±

    ¡°¡­Sigh.¡±

    Do these people get scripts from the academy or something?

    How could it still sound the same after twenty years?

    ¡°By the way, the patent for the Cadena Flu cure and vine has already been registered with the royal court.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    Moira¡¯s eyes widened in shock, realizing this had been her fallback n.

    ¡°Therefore, if you wish to use your own treatment, you¡¯ll need to pay us the patent fee or destroy it all. The choice is yours.¡±

    ¡°Ugh!¡±

    ¡°Oh, though I believe Ms. Moira may have other pressing matters to attend to first.¡±

    The Blue Tower isn¡¯t lenient toward anyone who incurs astronomical losses on them.

    She would likely end up assigned to a lesser post or expelled from the tower.

    Moira clenched her fists and stormed out.

    Momentster, as Neil Brion passed by, Oscarmented casually.

    ¡°That¡¯s a nice cologne.¡±

    The minty freshness was unmistakable, memorable, like Gordon''s had been.

    Oscar nced at him slyly.

    ¡°NewTech, wasn¡¯t it? Let¡¯s meet again.¡±

    ¡°¡­I hope under better circumstances.¡±

    ¡°I hope so, too. For now.¡±

    Once they left, Archbishop Baldwin burst into heartyughter.

    ¡°Haha! Now we can finally get down to discussing the contract terms. Come, take a seat.¡±

    As soon as he sat, the questions began.

    ¡°Now then, name your price for supplying the cure to Vins¡¯s domain.¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡±

    ¡°For reference, the Blue Tower and NewTech offered 2 million bels.¡±

    The only reason he volunteered this information was to prevent them from naming an unreasonably high price.

    ¡°If those two quoted two million¡­¡±

    Oscar extended two fingers in thought, then grinned as he spread out the rest.

    ¡°Five million bels should do.¡±

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    ¡°¡­Ha.¡±

    The bold proposition drew a scoff from the Archbishop.

    He had thought even two million was high for treating the five thousand residents of Vins.

    ¡°To ask for more than double that amount...¡±

    It was clear Oscar was exploiting the Archbishop''s desperate situation.

    As irritation began to rise, Oscar spoke up.

    ¡°You might think I¡¯m taking advantage of you.¡±

    ¡°Are you saying that¡¯s not the case?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I have three reasons for quoting five million bels.¡±

    ¡°Three reasons?¡±

    The Archbishop¡¯s curiosity was piqued, and he nodded slightly.

    ¡°Let¡¯s hear them.¡±

    ¡°First, the quality of our cure. As you¡¯ve already heard from Lord Vins, there¡¯s no issue with the effectiveness of our treatment. Comparing it to their unproven cures would be an insult, in my opinion.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. I acknowledge that. And what is the second reason?¡±

    ¡°Time.¡±

    The Archbishop nodded in agreement.

    ¡°That, too, I acknowledge. You¡¯re saving me a whole four months.¡±

    ¡°In my personal opinion, it¡¯s impossible for them toplete a remedy in just four months.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re quite confident. So, we have two reasons now.¡±

    Excellent quality and fast delivery time¡ªboth valid reasons for raising the price.

    ¡°Now, what¡¯s the third reason?¡±

    ¡°Advertising costs.¡±

    ¡°...Advertising costs?¡±

    Oscar smirked at the Archbishop, who blinked in confusion.

    ¡°When we swiftly contain the Cadena flu, people will be curious. They¡¯ll ask, ¡®How did the White Tower manage to produce a remedy so quickly?¡¯ And then I¡¯ll answer that it¡¯s all thanks to Archbishop Baldwin. That he, as if divinely inspired, instructed us to prepare the remedy.¡±

    ¡°...!¡±

    Baldwin the Archbishop¡¯s eyes sparkled as he grasped the meaning of Oscar¡¯s words.

    A bishop receiving a divine revtion?

    It was an opportunity too tempting to resist for someone eyeing the position of cardinal.

    A chance to make his name known across the entire continent without lifting a finger.

    ¡°Haha, unfortunately, I haven¡¯t received such a revtion. But rumors tend to get exaggerated, don¡¯t they?¡±

    ¡°Haha, that¡¯s how rumors work, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    The Archbishop, clearly pleased with this scenario, smiled widely before asking mischievously,

    ¡°Are you really in your twenties? Talking to you feels like talking to a wily old fox of forty.¡±

    Oscar¡¯s face grew serious.

    ¡°Well, forty is a bit much... I can humbly admit to being thirty, though.¡±

    ¡°Cough, just a joke.¡±

    What a funny fellow.

    Why admit to thirty if it¡¯s not true?

    ¡°Oscar Crucian... Wait, Oscar Crucian?¡±

    The Archbishop pped his hand on his knee as recognition dawned.

    That name sounded familiar¡ªit was the name of a once-renowned genius who had stirred the continent.

    But for the past few years, he had only been infamous for squandering the White Tower¡¯s funds.

    ¡®Has he been restoring lost potion recipes all this time? If that¡¯s true, the potion market could be transformed.¡¯

    The Archbishop naturally assumed Oscar had spent these past years focusing on potion research.

    After all, the remedy for the Cadena flu couldn¡¯t have been created overnight.

    ¡°But tell me, why not count what you¡¯re taking from me?¡±

    ¡°...What do you mean?¡±

    Oscar feigned innocence, but the Archbishop, fully aware, smirked knowingly.

    ¡°If the White Tower makes a fortune from this amazing remedy, it¡¯ll attract a horde of vultures. Did you think I wouldn¡¯t notice you were positioning me and the Church as shields against them?¡±

    ¡°...Well, depending on how you look at it, I suppose one could see it that way.¡±

    What a cunning old man.

    Oscar had thought he wouldn¡¯t notice... but seeing his expression, the Archbishop burst into heartyughter.

    ¡°Hahaha! It¡¯s just another joke! You¡¯re so mature I wanted to tease you a bit.¡±

    ¡°Your taste in humor is quite peculiar.¡±

    ¡°I hear that often.¡±

    Chuckling, the Archbishop pulled a nk check from his robe and wrote a number on it.

    ¡°Here, take it.¡±

    ¡°Thank you... Huh?¡±

    Oscar¡¯s eyes widened at the number on the check.

    ¡°Archbishop, I think you miscalcted.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s you who miscalcted.¡±

    The Archbishop shook his head firmly.

    ¡°You¡¯re offering to advertise solely for my benefit across the continent. Do you think my dignity is so cheap that 5 million Bels would suffice?¡±

    ¡°Archbishop¡­¡±

    Grateful, Oscar tightly gripped the check that had 10 million Bels written on it.

    ¡°I¡¯ll show my gratitude by delivering the second batch to Vins in a week.¡±

    ¡°Haha, that would be much appreciated.¡±

    He sped the Archbishop¡¯s hand firmly.

    * * *

    Back at the White Tower, Oscar returned like a triumphant general to see the deputy master, already joined by Maxim and Fidelina, who had rushed over upon hearing the news.

    Holding the nk check without a word, Oscar handed it over, and Fidelina shrieked upon reading the amount.

    ¡°What? Is this¡­ 1000? 10,000? 100,000? 1 million? 10 million Bels?¡±

    With her mood immediately brightened, she messed up Oscar¡¯s hair.

    ¡°Oh, my boy! I knew you could do it!¡±

    ¡°...Your audacity is almost astonishing.¡±

    Maxim, shaking his head, caught Oscar¡¯s awkward look and spoke up.

    ¡°Unlike her, I¡¯ve believed in you from the start. You know that, right?¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    Yeah, please help me stop her.

    Oscar brushed off Fidelina¡¯s hand, awkwardly smiling as he fixed his hair.

    ¡°Anyway, the deal with Archbishop Baldwin went through sessfully, so we need to prepare the second batch and send it to Vins in a week. After that, we¡¯ll start selling in nearby territories, too.¡±

    The deputy master stared at the check in silence.

    This wasn¡¯t just any number¡ªvisions of those he couldn¡¯t feed, clothe, or support shed through his mind.

    With misty eyes, he managed to speak.

    ¡°To be honest, I¡¯m surprised. I didn¡¯t expect Oscar to pull it off this well.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s all thanks to your faith in me, deputy master.¡±

    A loud stamp of approval.

    The deputy master¡¯s gaze was filled with affection.

    ¡°The disciplinary action called for repaying three times the embezzled 25,000 Bels, yet he¡¯s brought back 400 times that amount. Considering future sales to other territories, we could aim for hundreds or even thousands of times more.¡±

    He nced at Fidelina.

    ¡°I¡¯m withdrawing the disciplinary action against Oscar. Any objections?¡±

    ¡°None at all.¡±

    Having heard the answer he wanted, the deputy master asked again.

    ¡°Oscar, do you need any additional support? A week is a pretty tight deadline.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯ll need more mages. Just Fran and I won¡¯t be able to meet the deadline.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the recruitment criteria?¡±

    ¡°Preferably all skilled in dual casting, but realistically, as many level-four mages as we can find.¡±

    Unlike with Fran, they didn¡¯t have time to teach everyone dual casting this time.

    With a week¡¯s deadline, they needed to prepare the promised batch.

    ¡°All right, I¡¯ll post a recruitment notice in the tower. Fidelina?¡±

    ¡°Yes, deputy master?¡±

    ¡°Announce that we¡¯re looking for level-four or higher mages for potion manufacturing, and that those who join will get daily wages and meat at every meal.¡±

    Applicants flocked in droves.

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 Chapter 12

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    Chapter 12: It¡¯s Not Over Yet (4)

    "¡­So this is what they mean by living long enough to see everything."

    Fran (20, male) muttered with a wry smile as he looked at the scene in front of him.

    It was because the alchemyb, which had been practically empty for decades, was now packed with people.

    It wasn''t an exaggeration to say that all the idle mages at the Magic Tower had gathered here, and the reason they gathered was nothing short of amusing.

    ¡°I heard you get meat dishes if you work here, is that true?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no way the Elder would lie about something like that.¡±

    ¡°Rumor has it, it¡¯s pork, not even chicken.¡±

    ¡°Gulp¡­ That¡¯s insane.¡±

    It had been a year since the dining hall at the Tower served only beans and canned soup.

    These mages had turned into beings who would do any odd job if it meant a chance at a meat dish.

    ¡°But I am a little concerned.¡±

    Fran murmured while rubbing his chin, and Oscar nced over at him.

    ¡°Concerned about what?¡±

    ¡°I know you must have a reason for selecting them¡­ but I feel like time is going to be tight.¡±

    ¡°Time? What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Think about it. Just teaching them dual casting alone could take days.¡±

    Oscar looked at him as if he¡¯d said something incredibly dense.

    ¡°Are you an idiot? We don¡¯t even have enough time to make the cure; when do you think we¡¯ll teach them all that?¡±

    ¡°...But dual casting is essential for making the cure, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Says who?¡±

    Even in the old days at the White Tower, most mages couldn¡¯t use dual casting, yet they¡¯d never fallen behind in potion production.

    ¡°You really are a ssic mage. Always thinking everything has to be done alone. That¡¯s exactly the biggest issue with mages.¡±

    The reason humanity had be the dominant species, pushing aside countless predators across the continent, was precisely the opposite of that mentality.

    It was their ability to band together in the face of hardship.

    That was humanity¡¯s scariest trait.

    ¡°If we split them into pairs, they won¡¯t need to use dual casting at all.¡±

    ¡°...Huh? You¡¯re right! Why didn¡¯t I think of that?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a typical mage thing.¡±

    Oscar shrugged and immediately climbed onto the tform and called out loudly.

    ¡°Alright, seniors, eyes over here!¡±

    Some mages turned to look, but most were still busy talking among themselves.

    Fran whispered in a low voice from the back.

    ¡°Want me to bring a magic amplifier?¡±

    ¡°No need. mages never listen when you ask nicely anyway.¡±

    Oscar shook his head and snapped his fingers. Instantly, he cast ¡ºSound Binding¡».

    The cacophony of conversations from dozens of mages merged into a single, powerful white noise.

    ¡ªBzzzzzzz!

    ¡°Argh!¡±

    ¡°What the¡­ what¡¯s going on?¡±

    The mages winced, covering their ears against the piercing noise, and their eyes naturally shifted to the tform where the sound originated.

    ¡°...Now that¡¯s more like it.¡±

    Oscar, looking pleased, started to speak as he took in the mages¡¯ disgruntled faces.

    ¡°Everyone, pay attention. The reason you¡¯ve all been gathered here today is to create a cure for the Cadena Flu.¡±

    ¡°The Cadena Flu cure?¡±

    ¡°What is he talking about all of a sudden?¡±

    ¡°Was that why we were called to the alchemyb?¡±

    They exchanged confused looks as if they hadn¡¯t been told anything beforehand.

    ¡°It¡¯s not a difficult task. Just follow my instructions.¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­ I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°Can mere mortals like us really follow the steps of a genius like you?¡±

    What was going on here?

    All the responses were unfriendly and even antagonistic. n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om

    Oscar, slightly taken aback, nced back and whispered.

    ¡°Hey, Fran. Do they hate me or something?¡±

    ¡°Yep, pretty much nobody here likes you.¡±

    ¡°¡­.¡±

    Oscar looked baffled, so Fran exined the cold truth.

    ¡°Because you¡¯re arrogant, rude, you waste the Tower¡¯s budget without restraint, don¡¯t do any real research, and just drink all the time. Rumor has it that you¡¯re the reason the Tower¡¯s cafeteria only serves beans and canned soup.¡±

    ¡°¡­.¡±

    Considering all that, it made sense he¡¯d be disliked.

    At that moment, Oscar suddenly looked at Fran curiously.

    ¡°Then why don¡¯t you hate me?¡±

    ¡°I like canned soup. It has that cheap taste that¡¯s kind of fun.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    This guy wasn¡¯t normal either.

    Oscarughed dryly and then looked at the 38 mages ring at him.

    ¡®If the Deputy Tower Master had just said a few words to them, this situation wouldn¡¯t have happened¡­¡¯

    From his previous Tower Master¡¯s perspective, he was likely doing this on purpose to see if Oscar had the social skills and tolerance needed for his role.

    It was essential information for a superior managing an entric genius.

    ¡®Well, I would¡¯ve done something simr.¡¯

    After gathering his thoughts, Oscar spoke up.

    ¡°Even Fran here seeded in making it, so there¡¯s no need to worry too much.¡±

    ¡°...I¡¯m Lena White, a 5th-level mage. Can I ask a few questions?¡±

    A woman in herte twenties with a rather cold gaze raised her hand.

    Oscar nodded.

    ¡°Go ahead.¡±

    ¡°To my knowledge, the White Tower lost all potion recipes 20 years ago. Where did the form for the Cadena Flu cure suddenlye from?¡±

    ¡°I restored it.¡±

    There was a murmur among the mages.

    ¡°...Looks like that fat oaf did more than just waste funds.¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about? With all that funding, he should¡¯ve made this progress a long time ago.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. He boasts about being a genius, but he¡¯s finally earning his keep.¡±

    Amidst the mixed responses, Lena asked another question.

    ¡°Has the efficacy of the cure been proven?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve already tested it on patients in Vins Territory, where the Cadena Flu spread. The results were confirmed by the Archbishop of the El Terra Church, with whom we have an exclusive contract, and it¡¯s even patented by the royal family.¡±

    The murmurs grew louder.

    "If it''s reliable enough to warrant an exclusive contract with the Church, which is known for being so particr¡­"

    "Besides, there''s no reason to doubt its effectiveness once the royal family has granted a patent."

    Just as the mages¡¯ hostility began to ease with the continued good news, Lena posed an unexpected question.

    "So, this means the remedy is worth more than its weight in gold. What exactly makes you willing to share the manufacturing form with us?"

    "¡­¡­."

    The murmuring subsided, and a strange tension filled the hall.

    Just as she pointed out, amidst the Cadena flu crisis, the remedy was a priceless treasure.

    If they managed to leak the form to the outside world, they could amass a fortune.

    All eyes turned toward Oscar with a mix of curiosity and suspicion as he calmly read the documents ced on the podium.

    "Let¡¯s see¡­ thirty-five fourth-level mages and only three fifth-level mages. The age range varies from 22 to 26."

    Oscar scanned them, then shook his head slightly.

    "To be honest, I don¡¯t understand why all of you are still here in the White Tower."

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    "¡­¡­."

    Silence fell.

    The quiet was so profound that one could hear even the faintest swallow.

    But soon enough, mages who couldn¡¯t suppress their anger began to speak out.

    "¡­So, you''re saying we have no shame, clinging to the White Tower?"

    "I heard you''d changed after nearly dying, but you¡¯re as rude as ever."

    "They say old sayings hold true¡ªpeople don¡¯t change."

    Feeling disrespected, the mages began grumbling andining.

    Even Lena, who had asked several questions, now looked at him coldly.

    "Looks like this was a waste of time. Let me make one thing clear: among those gathered here today, not a single one deserves to hear such insolence from you."

    Lena turned to leave, convinced there was no point in continuing with him.

    "I know."

    Oscar¡¯s quiet voice in theboratory made her pause.

    Slowly, she turned around and narrowed her eyes.

    "¡­What did you say?"

    "I said I know. I know how much all of you here love the White Tower and what you¡¯ve sacrificed for it¡ªall of it."

    Oscar tapped the document with his fingers and continued.

    "You may think you hid it well, but the White Tower isn¡¯t so ipetent as to be unaware."

    Ignoring their questioning stares, he read off several notable points from the application records.

    "Lena White, fifth-level mage, 25 years old. The Red Tower and various organizations made a total of seven attempts to recruit you for your unique talents and leadership. You turned them all down."

    "Harrock Dryon, fifth-level mage, 26 years old. The royal family recognized your skill in magicbat and offered you a position as a royal mage, but you declined."

    "Deckard Rine, fifth-level mage, 26 years old. The Empire Academy offered you a position as an instructor four times, all of which you refused."

    "Sophia Rose, fourth-level mage, 23 years old. The Yellow Tower secretly approached you for your creative alchemy skills but was declined."

    Oscar¡¯s words silenced the hall again. mages looked at each other, exchanging nces of mutual surprise, wondering, "You, too?" Oscar ced the document down and continued.

    "As I said, I don¡¯t understand why you¡¯re all still here in the White Tower. If I had received offers like these¡­ well, I¡¯m not sure I could refuse."

    The reason is simple.

    The White Tower is dying.

    It¡¯s hard to find any trace of a future here.

    "But you didn¡¯t leave."

    The reason can only be one thing: because you love the White Tower.

    You want to revive this fallen tower with your own strength.

    Lena, fighting an indescribable surge of emotion, bit her lip.

    "¡­Are you saying the elders were aware of all those offers?"

    "They were aware. They simply pretended not to know."

    They probably thought that acknowledging it would make you feel burdened.

    While they hoped you wouldn¡¯t leave, they didn¡¯t want to hold back children who could rise higher elsewhere.

    So, knowing everything, they pretended not to know.

    Oscar addressed the mages, who stood in silence.

    "The White Tower is going through its harshest winter in history. Under such circumstances, even though you had the opportunity to work in better conditions, you chose to stay in the cold here."

    He then asked,

    "If I can¡¯t trust people like that, then who could I possibly trust?"

    After this meaningful question, Oscar stepped down from the podium, putting on his goggles.

    "Fran, get ready. It seems we¡¯ll have to handle this task together."

    "Oh? Uh, okay."

    As Fran came down, preparing the materials skillfully, Lena approached them, quietly slipping on her goggles.

    "¡­Tell me what needs to be done."

    Seeing this, the other mages, who had been about to leave theboratory, started to gather around them one by one.

    "Hmph. You should have spoken like that from the start."

    "We thought this young brat was spitting insults, so we got mad."

    "We don¡¯t have time to waste. Didn''t you say there¡¯s only a week left?"

    "Hey, in the back! Why are you just standing there watching? Hurry up and prepare!"

    "Hey, you! Am I wearing this right?"

    Despite their grumbling, they put on their goggles and gloves.

    Fran let out a smallugh as he watched them.

    "Ha, ha. The great Oscar, persuading people with words¡ªam I dreaming?"

    "¡­If it¡¯s a dream like this, I wouldn¡¯t mind."

    Oscar took in the bustlingboratory with a small smile.

    It was the first time he¡¯d felt a sense of liveliness in the White Tower since awakening in this body.

    ¡®Even if someone leaked the recipe, they wouldn¡¯t profit due to the patent, but there¡¯s no need to mention that now.¡¯

    To keep the good atmosphere going, he spoke up.

    "Ah, by the way, the meat served at every meal isn''t pork but¡­"

    "Ugh. It¡¯s chicken, isn¡¯t it?"

    "¡­Please, tell me it¡¯s not rat."

    ncing around at the anxious mages, he shrugged.

    "It¡¯s beef."

    "Oooooh!"

    "Meat! Meat! Beef!"

    Maybe it was the meat, or perhaps it was the rare unity among the White Tower mages, but within a week, the production of the remedy surpassed the target by 140%.

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 Chapter 13

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    Chapter 13: Guardian of the Herb Field (1)

    It was early in the morning, with the scent of dawn¡¯s dew still lingering in the air.

    Oscar, who had just finished his morning run through the garden, sat down on a bench and unfolded a newspaper.

    [Two days after distributing the Cadena Flu cure in Vince Territory, pandemic dered over.]

    [The White Tower''s Beacon of Revival? A small stone thrown into the potion market, creating huge ripples.]

    [Oscar Crucian nominated for the Peace Prize in recognition of his contributions to the development of the Cadena Flu cure and vine.]

    [The White Tower credits everything to the grace of the Goddess, and Archbishop Baldwin¡¯s poprity surges nationwide.]

    No matter which newspaper he picked, the headlines were all about the White Tower.

    Understandably so.

    A miraculous breakthrough for the underdogs was always the best and most ideal material for news, across eras.

    "Hey, Oscar!"

    Then, a now-familiar voice echoed in his ears.

    Oscar nced over and muttered.

    "...How does he always know where to find me?"

    At the edge of his vision, Fran, looking incredibly excited, was running toward him, waving a stack of papers.

    "Amazing! The word must be out¡ªvine pre-orders are flooding in!"

    "Well, of course."

    Oscar replied with a nonchnt expression.

    After all, the Cadena Flu was a B-grade disaster, ssified for its danger.

    "It''s a disease that can strike anyone, anytime, anywhere. If they value their lives, they''d get vinated."

    "See this list? Northern territories, the Church, even the Imperial Family¡ªeveryone¡¯s made reservations."

    Fran did a mental calction and pped his forehead.

    "Damn, it''s insane. I crunched the numbers, and even if we just sell the current stock of cures and vines, we''ll make tens of millions of bels easily."

    "Tens of millions of bels... That should cover the immediate crisis."

    A faint smile appeared on Oscar''s lips.

    Just a few days ago, things looked hopeless in this corner of the Tower, but now he felt a bit more at ease.

    "But, you know, this fever will die down soon, right? And the flu probably won''t be widespread again for decades."

    Oscar looked slightly surprised at Fran¡¯s concern.

    "You¡¯re sharper than I thought. So, you understand that current sales won¡¯t be sustainable?¡±

    "Do you think I¡¯m an idiot? Once everyone¡¯s vinated, who¡¯s going to keep buying the vine? And since this flu was contained before it could spread much, most territories outside the northern regions don¡¯t even feel a need for it. They''re just watching and waiting."

    As Fran pointed out, the Cadena Flu cure and vine were, ultimately, a seasonal business.

    And one that could only be sold every few decades, so it could never be a primary ie source for the Tower.

    ''This was exactly why other Towers didn''t bother risking everything to develop a cure for the Cadena Flu.''

    Even if they seeded, it wouldn''t be profitable.

    It could only be sold once every few decades, and with the White Tower as the forerunner, no less.

    If the flu were suppressed quickly, as it was this time, even the potential earnings wouldn¡¯t be that substantial.

    ¡®Once we fulfill the current batch of orders, there likely won¡¯t be any more.¡¯

    Even if there were, it would probably be from only a few territories near the northern regions.

    Oscar, aware of this reality, had already prepared a contingency n.

    "Don¡¯t worry about money. I have other potions ready that will bring the Tower steady ie."

    "Other potions... you mean...?"

    Oscar watched as Fran''s eyes widened in amazement and chuckled.

    "Yes. Starting this week, we¡¯ll also produce and sell recovery potions."

    "You... you didn¡¯t just restore the Cadena Flu cure!¡±

    The excited Fran asked eagerly.

    "Is it the ''Tears of the Star,'' by any chance?¡±

    "Of course not. That would be premature."

    Oscar firmly drew the line.

    The most famous potion of the White Tower¡¯s recovery line was undoubtedly the ¡°Tears of the Star.¡±

    Its effects were remarkable, even able to revive those on the verge of death, but it was more likely to be poison for the current White Tower than a cure.

    ¡®First, we need to build up the strength to protect something like that, even if we create it.¡¯

    Even the current cure required using Archbishop Baldwin and the Church as shields to ensure its safety.

    "We¡¯ll sell low and mid-grade potions instead."

    In fact, the overall market demand was much bigger for these.

    Households, mercenaries, soldiers, and knights all used these kinds of products.

    "Well, it¡¯s disappointing not to see the ¡®Tears of the Star,¡¯ but I suppose it can¡¯t be helped. At least we won¡¯t have to worry about our ie drying up."

    Fran asked, smacking his lips in regret.

    "Then, I guess you¡¯ll need to acquire new ingredients for the potions, right?¡±

    "Ah, yes. Since you bring it up, I do have a list. First, I need Lantus leaves and Python stems¡­"

    Oscar listed the herbs needed for the recovery potions, while Fran, noting them down, began to look concerned.

    "Ugh, these ingredients are all hard to find."

    "...What? What do you mean by that?"

    Oscar blinked.

    "All of our potion ingredients are unique to Sirin. How could they be hard to find?"

    "Sirin¡¯s specialties? You¡¯re talking about something from an ancient era."

    With a deep sigh, Fran continued.

    "Sirin was once known as thergest herb producer on the continent, but those days are long gone. It¡¯s practically dead now."

    What?

    The herb fields have died?

    At that moment, an article shed through Oscar''s mind.

    [The White Tower¡¯s continuous misfortune? Sirin, once hailed as the continent''srgest herb producer, falls from grace.]

    He recalled reading that in the newspaper.

    Back then, he dismissed it as a baseless smear, but it seemed otherwise.

    "Wait, why would a perfectly fine herb field suddenly go under?"

    "Well, who knows? Is there even a reason? When our Tower fell, the potion recipes were lost, and since we couldn''t buy in the same volume, the herb fields naturally declined, don¡¯t you think?"

    "...That doesn¡¯t make sense."

    Oscar shook his head firmly.

    Sirin herbs were renowned for their extraordinary potency.

    In the past, people practically lined up and took numbers to buy herbs from Sirin.

    ¡®It was often said that even if the White Tower were to copse, Sirin¡¯s herb fields would endure. And now they¡¯ve copsed simply because we stopped buying from them?¡¯

    Impossible.

    This was simply inconceivable, given the prestige of Sirin¡¯s herbs, which had soared twenty years ago.

    ¡®No matter how I think about it, something... smells fishy.¡¯

    Oscar¡¯s eyes narrowed as this thought crossed his mind.

    "Young Master Oscar, here you are."

    Wearing a worn work outfit, Walter approached the two of them.

    "It¡¯s been a while, Fran."

    "Indeed. You look even more dignified since west met."

    "Haha..."

    Walter scratched his head bashfully at Fran¡¯sment before turning to Oscar.

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard the rumors. You¡¯ve made an incredible achievement, Young Master Oscar. Congrattions."

    "I¡¯ve merely earned a bit of money."

    Walter smiled faintly at Oscar¡¯s modest words.

    "I was just called in by the Deputy Tower Master on my way here."

    "Oh, could it be¡­?"

    "Haha, yes. My resignation was rejected. He asked me to keep working for the Tower."

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    "That''s such a relief."

    The moment Oscar beamed, Walter suddenly grabbed his hand.

    "...Thank you. Truly, thank you. If it hadn''t been for young Master Oscar, I would have..."

    "Oh, you don¡¯t have to¡­"

    Oscar trailed off, intending to say it was fine.

    Walter''s hands, sping his, were trembling.

    "......"

    Walter''s hands, which he looked at silently, were by no means graceful, not even close.

    Small scars were scattered all over, with wrinkled lines etched by long years ofbor.

    They were rough hands.

    Undoubtedly rough.

    But staring at them made Oscar''s chest ache.

    ''With these wrinkled hands¡­

    He must have managed every corner of the Tower, even ces no one else cared about.

    He could tell just by the spotless potionb, abandoned for ages, with not a speck of dust.

    ¡®From his youth, when his hands would¡¯ve been unlined, till now.¡¯

    Oscar felt genuinely relieved, knowing he wouldn¡¯t have to leave his second home as if fleeing.

    Oscar firmly grasped both of Walter''s hands in return.

    "If anyone should be grateful, it¡¯s me. Thank you for all your hard work, and please continue to look after us."

    "..."

    At the heartfelt gratitude, Walter lowered his head.

    Even though it wasn¡¯t yet time to water the nts, stray drops began to fall on the soil in the garden.

    After a moment, Walter, now looking much lighter, lifted his head and said,

    "If it¡¯s all right with you, young Master Oscar, could you keep mepany from time to time?"

    "Of course, I¡¯d be the one asking that favor."

    After exchanging warm words, Walter asked,

    "By the way, you both seemed down earlier. Is there something an old man like me can help with?"

    "Oh, well¡­"

    Oscar told him about the conversation he had with Fran.

    "But it just doesn¡¯t make sense to me that the herb fields in Sirin have failed."

    "Hmm. In that case, why not visit the ce yourself?"

    "A visit, you say..."

    Sometimes, simplicity is the best solution.

    Oscar nodded, epting Walter''s advice.

    "That''s actually a good idea."

    * * *

    tter, tter.

    The carriage, carrying the two, slowed after traveling for half a day.

    Oscar had wanted to try a car, but it was more expensive than he thought, so he decided to wait for another opportunity.

    "We¡¯ve arrived!"

    "Haaamm!"

    At the driver¡¯s call, Fran stretched out his arms as he yawned while getting off the carriage.

    "Ugh, I almost died of boredom."

    "You fell asleep the moment you got on, and you¡¯re calling it boring?"

    Oscar, exasperated, scolded him, and Fran quickly changed the subject.

    "But, driver, can you drop us off a bit further in?"

    "This is as far as the carriage can go. You¡¯ll have to walk from here."

    "Walk, you say...?"

    Looking out, the fields stretched all the way to the horizon with herbs nted in neat rows.

    There was no sign of the owner''s house in sight.

    Sensing he¡¯d have to walk quite a bit, Fran suggested,

    "Oscar, it¡¯d probably be better if at least one of us stayed at the entrance, right?"

    "Do as you please. I¡¯m just going to report exactly what happened in the trip report anyway."

    "Damn it... Fine, I¡¯m going, I¡¯m going!"

    After about three hours of walking, they finally spotted a cabin at the foot of a huge mountain in the distance.

    Estimating the distance, Oscar muttered,

    "From the entrance to the cabin, it¡¯s roughly ten miles."

    "...Miles?"n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    Fran, visibly tired, looked at him with a strange expression.

    "Using such an old unit? Miles disappeared 18 years ago."

    "What?"

    Miles had disappeared?

    Oscar¡¯s eyes went wide with surprise.

    "What are you talking about? Miles disappearing?"

    "They were reced by the metric system during the big administrative overhaul after the war. Pounds were converted to grams at the same time."

    "Heavens above, they got rid of pounds too..."

    Oscar¡¯s disbelief was clear.

    This had been a matter of debate for decades.

    Rumors had circted that once the war ended, units would be unified¡­

    ¡®But I never imagined miles and pounds would be abolished.¡¯

    Of course, they were imprecise and difficult to measure, and they could be annoying.

    But there was a certain charm and nostalgia in calcting with them, bit by bit.

    He didn¡¯t have long to mourn the death of these familiar units, though.

    They finally arrived at a rather luxurious-looking cabin.

    "Is anyone inside?"

    Fran called out loudly, and the cabin door, which had been firmly shut, slowly creaked open.

    An elderly man with gray hair appeared.

    He looked robust enough to be mistaken for a retired soldier.

    ncing at the path they¡¯d taken, he asked,

    "Did you walk all the way here?"

    "Yes. The carriage could only go as far as the entrance. After that, we had to walk."

    "...Then at least you¡¯re not with them."

    The old man mumbled quietly, just as he was about to add something¡ª

    VROOOM!

    A loud engine sound grew closer from behind them.

    "What in the world¡­?"

    Three vehicles, trampling over the herbs, came to a stop in front of them.

    A man in a white car, nked by ck escort cars, stepped out.

    Clunk!

    "Man, every time Ie here, I¡¯ve got to say, the air¡¯s fantastic. But everything else is trash."

    Adjusting his sunsses with a smirk, he asked,

    "So, still not thinking of selling thend?"

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 Chapter 14

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    Chapter 14: Guardian of the Herb Field (2)

    "Oscar, what do you think is going on here?"

    "Not sure,"

    Oscar replied nonchntly to Fran''s question as he watched the situation unfold.

    The man in the white suit smirked slyly.

    "Isn''t it about time you let go of that stubbornness? We''ll pay you ten times more than any other plot."

    "¡­Even if you built a fortress with mithril, I still wouldn''t sell thisnd to you."

    "Tsk, Master. I can only take your resistance as a joke for so long."

    The eyes behind his sunsses turned cold, but the herbalist didn''t back down and met his gaze.

    After a brief staring contest, it was the man in the white suit who surrendered first,ughing.

    "Haha! Just kidding. But you¡¯d better be careful¡ªliving here alone by the hillside, no one would know if you suddenly met an unfortunate end."

    He made a pointed remark, then pulled a cigar from his pocket and ced it in his mouth.

    When one of his men lit it for him, he blew out a cloud of thick smoke.

    "Once the factories spring up on the surroundingnds, the value of thisnd will plummet to the ground. Why not sell it now while the price is still high and save yourself the trouble?"

    "Ridiculous. If I don¡¯t sell, they won¡¯t authorize any factory construction on the nearbynd."

    "¡­Pfft, you''re always ready with aeback."

    Shaking his head, the man in the white suit climbed into the back seat of his car.

    He rolled down the window and tossed a white envelope onto the ground.

    "Oh, and here¡¯s payment for the herbs. I may have stepped on a few on the way here."

    He shed a smug grin, gave a dismissive wave, and closed the window.

    Vroooom!

    The convoy disappeared in a cloud of thick exhaust, leaving only the lingering smoke in its wake.

    "Sigh."

    The old man let out a weary sigh, showing his fatigue, and asked,

    "So, where are you folks from?"

    "Oh, pardon thete introduction."

    Oscar gave a slight nod.

    "We¡¯re from the White Tower."

    * * *

    The kettle let out a gentle whistle as steaming hot tea poured out.

    The old man, who introduced himself as Ivan, apologized briefly.

    "Sorry I can¡¯t offer something more suited to the tastes of the younger generation."

    "It''s fine. I actually enjoy tea,"

    Oscar said with a smile and took a sip.

    "This is good. It''s been a while since I''ve had such rich, aromatic Ribo tea of this quality."

    "¡­Oh, do you appreciate tea that much?"

    "I know a fair bit about herbs and tea,"

    Oscar replied.

    "Yes, he really knows his stuff,"

    Fran chimed in.

    Seeming pleased with the answer, Ivan''s eyes softened.

    "Thank you. I just picked this batch from the back mountain at dawn today. It¡¯s a top-grade variety."

    "Seems we got lucky. I''ve heard the herbs of Sirin are the best on the continent."

    "The best on the continent¡­"

    Ivan''s lips curved into a bitter smile.

    "That''s all in the past now. It''s no longer true."

    "Why is that?"

    "There are two main reasons,"

    Ivan said after a moment of reflection, carefully exining the current situation.

    "The first is the depleted fertility of the soil."

    "The soil''s fertility?"

    "Yes. For ages, thisnd was known as blessed¡ªanything nted here would yield above-average crops."

    That wasmon knowledge.

    The premium on Sirin¡¯s herbs was because of that reputation.

    "But in the past eight years, Sirin''s soil fertility has rapidly declined."

    "Why?"

    "Opinions differ, but in my view, it¡¯s due to the indiscriminate construction of factories."

    There was a firm conviction in Ivan¡¯s voice.

    "The industrial zone in the west produces magical engineering goods, and the waste and pollutants from those factories flow down the river, degrading Sirin''s soil fertility. There''s no other exnation."

    "Factories¡­"

    It probably wasn''t unrted, Oscar mused.

    After all, those on the ground often notice these changes first.

    Fran, who had been listening quietly, jumped in.

    "So, what¡¯s the second reason?"

    "¡­The second is that I¡¯ve lost the motivation to keep nurturing herbs."

    A bitter smile appeared on Ivan''s face.

    "Do you know why this blessednd holds a herb field instead of wheat or fruit?"

    "Because of a promise with the previous Tower Master."

    Ivan looked slightly surprised at the answer.

    "Interesting. I haven¡¯t met anyone who knows that nowadays."

    "Haha."

    As Ivan gazed at Oscar¡¯s sheepish grin, he continued.

    "A long time ago, herbalists were looked down upon¡ªpractically outcasts, almost like the ''witches'' people feared. Ordinary people couldn¡¯tprehend the benefits of the nts they boiled in their cauldrons and sold.

    "So herbalists led a nomadic life, facing scorn and contempt everywhere they went."

    "Then Leonard Ayres, the fourth Tower Master of the White Tower, called herbalists from all over the continent to gather here."

    A visionary with exceptional insight, he addressed the assembled herbalists: "Come to Sirin, and this ce will forever be your home. Here, you shall suffer no contempt from anyone."

    Ivan gave Oscar a perplexed look.

    "Wait, I didn¡¯t know he actually said that."

    "¡­I think I read it in a fairy tale book."

    Oscar made an excuse, though he had actually read it in an ancient book passed down to Tower Masters.

    "In any case, because of this promise, herbalists from across the continent flocked to Sirin, and countless herb fields sprang up. With the rugged mountains around, this area was ideal for people like us to settle."

    "So, when you say you lost the motivation to grow herbs¡­?"

    "The White Tower gave our ancestors a homnd and a sense of pride. How could we do anything to contribute to its downfall?"

    Selling herbs to other Towers would allow them to erode the White Tower¡¯s share of the potion market.

    Surprised by this unexpected reasoning, Oscar could only remain silent.

    "We''ve always made a living from the herbs we gather in the mountains. There¡¯s no reason for us to stab the White Tower in the back."

    "That¡¯s¡­ incredibly generous of you."

    At the same time, it was an unsettlingly frightening thought.

    If they had chosen to pursue profit, the White Tower¡¯s decline might have been hastened by at least a decade.

    "In the meantime, the greedy bastard, Dvor Powell, made his entrance."

    Three years ago, this young entrepreneur appeared in Sirin, urging the herbalists to sell theirnd.

    Initially, the herbalists refused, honoring their loyalty to the White Tower.

    But he was persistent.

    "He¡¯s the kind of guy who wouldn¡¯t hesitate to resort to kidnapping, threats, and even murder. A ssic thug."

    "¡­But why go to such extremes just to buy upnd?"

    "He ns to turn this ce into the continent''srgest industrial zone."

    Sure, Sirin might be remote now, but it¡¯s been a key northern transportation hub since ancient times.

    The White Tower might have fallen, but Sirin''s geographical advantage hasn''t disappeared.

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    "There are two things I¡¯m curious about."

    "And what might those be?"

    "Why hasn¡¯t he tried to kill you yet?"

    "It¡¯s simple."

    Ivan pointed to a que hanging on one of the walls in the cabin.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    "I''m a national treasure in the art of herbal cultivation."

    "Ohhh."

    Oscar immediately understood, nodding in recognition.

    A "national treasure" is a title bestowed upon a master who has reached the pinnacle of their craft and can replicate their skills anytime.

    And, of course, it''s the Imperial Court that grants this designation, affording those individuals special protections.

    "No matter how ruthless he may be, he can¡¯t touch me."

    "I understand. Then, why haven¡¯t you sold the herb fields so far? Surely, you could make a fortune if you wanted."

    "You''re asking the obvious."

    Ivan chuckled, gazing out the window at the herb fields bathed in the glow of the setting sun.

    "I love thisnd. It¡¯s my homnd, where I was born."

    That¡¯s why he couldn''t bring himself to sell thend.

    "Our family¡¯s herb fields and mountains are thergest in Sirin, and they are in prime locations. If I were to sell thisnd¡­ a massive industrialplex would be constructed."

    Even the operation of just three or four small factories in the western region had depleted thend''s fertility within a few years.

    What would happen if they leveled entire mountains to build a vast industrialplex?

    The oue was as clear as day.

    "If that happens, Sirin might never recover its fertility."

    "......"

    This was an old man¡¯s battle to uphold his beliefs, memories, and loyalty.

    A lonely, solitary fight that likely no one else would ever recognize.

    Oscar bowed his head involuntarily.

    "Thank you for all your hard work."

    "What do you mean by that?"

    "I mean you don¡¯t have to fight this lonely battle any longer."

    From now on, we¡ªthe White Tower¡ªwill stand with you.

    * * *

    Dvor Powell, a businessman who favored white suits, took off his watch the moment he entered the temporary building he had set up on his newly acquirednd.

    "That useless idiot!"

    p!

    The assistant who was pped fell back but quickly returned to his ce, standing upright.

    After striking his assistant for a while, Dvor finally managed to calm himself down, putting his watch back on.

    "How hard can it be to make that stubborn old man sell me hisnd?"

    "...I¡¯m sorry."

    "Do you have any idea how much money I have tied up in this worthlessnd?"

    In front of Ivan, he always acted calm andposed, but the truth was that things weren¡¯t going well.

    He had umted an enormous debt over thest three years buying up herbal fields.

    And a considerable amount of money had been spent on bribery to cover up the illegal activities involved in the process.

    As time passed, the interest on his debt ballooned, and Dvor was growing increasingly anxious.

    "How does that senile fool still hold the prime piece ofnd, blocking the start of my great enterprise?"

    He was nning to build thergest automobile factory, not only in the North but on the entire continent.

    Oncepleted, bing one of the world''s wealthiest men would be a matter of time.

    So, naturally, he was infuriated that a single herbalist was standing in the way of his grand vision.

    "Damn it. How much will I have to offer him to get him to sell and leave?"

    He bit down on a cigar, and his assistant quickly approached to light it.

    Exhaling a puff of smoke, he asked,

    "And who were those guys earlier?"

    "From what I¡¯ve gathered, they¡¯re mages from the White Tower."

    "What? The White Tower?"

    Dvor frowned, not expecting this answer.

    "Why would the White Tower show up there?"

    "They recently made some money."

    "How much could those beggars have possibly made?"

    "Actually, it''s quite arge sum."

    His assistant carefully handed him today¡¯s newspaper.

    Dvor¡¯s expression quickly darkened as he scanned the articles.

    "¡­You fool."

    "Y-Yes? Agh!"

    The assistant screamed in pain as Dvor kicked him in the shins.

    He then continued to vent his anger, stomping on the assistant mercilessly.

    "Why are you only telling me this now, you idiot!"

    It was obvious the White Tower would make an astronomical sum from developing the only cure for the Cadena Flu.

    "Wait, could it be¡­?"

    After some thought, a low groan escaped Dvor¡¯s mouth.

    It wasmon knowledge that building factories would deplete thend¡¯s fertility.

    The White Tower wouldn¡¯t want industrial facilities in their territory.

    "¡­So, these vermin are conspiring to sabotage my project."

    Dvor¡¯s eyes glinted as he red at his assistant.

    "Didn¡¯t those mercenaries I hired for dirty work contact you? Get in touch with them."

    "Uh, what should I request?"

    "What do you think? Tell them to kill that damn old man."

    "But he¡¯s a national treasure¡­"

    "You useless idiot."

    Dvor gave him an exasperated look.

    "Just make it look like an idental death or disappearance. Then the herb fields will be auctioned off, and we can buy them. Sure, it might be a bit suspicious, but we can bribe the officials to cover it up."

    "And if the White Tower mages are still on the herb fields?"

    "...Are they high-level mages?"

    "Judging by their young faces, they¡¯re definitely not. At most, they¡¯re level three."

    "A level three mage, huh. Even so, the White Tower¡¯s mages are a bit of a hassle¡­"

    Dvor hesitated briefly but quickly made up his mind.

    Rather than acting cautiously and letting fear hold him back, he decided it was better to take risks, end things swiftly, and lobby the authorities to cover up the incident.

    After all, he had powerful backers behind him.

    Exhaling a thick cloud of smoke, Dvor issued his order.

    "Tell the mercenaries they¡¯ll be well-rewarded. If anyone gets in the way, kill them too."

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 Chapter 15

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    Chapter 15: Guardian of the Herb Field (3)

    Unlike the city, the night in the herb garden was particrly dark, devoid of even a hint of light.

    Perhaps because of that, countless stars sprinkled across the sky unted their presence.

    Sitting on a cool tform and taking in the scene, Fran muttered to himself,

    ¡°They sure are shining bright. I¡¯m a bit envious.¡±

    ¡°Envious? What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°I just wonder what it would feel like to live with such a brilliant light, being noticed by everyone.¡±

    He directed his gaze towards Oscar.

    ¡°Well, someone like you, a genius, probably wouldn¡¯t understand.¡±

    ¡°No¡­ You¡¯re quite exceptional yourself.¡±

    ¡°Even if it¡¯s just ttery, thanks.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t ttery at all.

    In reality, Fran had remarkable talent.

    One didn¡¯t have to look far to see that¡ªhe managed dual casting on his first attempt, after all.

    To be blunt, he was a mage with a promising future.

    ¡®I can¡¯t even understand why Little Oscar would call this guy a problem child.¡¯

    If he had to point out a w, it¡¯d be his asional over-need for recognition.

    He sometimes seemedcking in self-esteem, which likely had something to do with his personal background.

    ¡°It¡¯s not ttery. I¡¯m not the type to give it anyway.¡±

    ¡°...Ahem.¡±

    Perhaps sensing the sincerity in his words, Fran grew a bit awkward and changed the subject.

    ¡°Anyway, there really are a lot of stars.¡±

    ¡°Right. Back then, Sirin used to be like this too.¡±

    Now, with streetlights illuminating the night, it was impossible to enjoy such a view in Sirin, but only about twenty years ago, watching the stars from the tower rooftop was one of his hobbies.

    Fran shot him a skeptical look.

    ¡°Come on, how far back do you mean by ¡®back then¡¯? You¡¯re born after me anyway. And by the way¡­¡±

    ncing around, Fran lowered his voice.

    ¡°Do you think Sirin¡¯s herb industry can really revive?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll only know once we try. But I don¡¯t think it¡¯s impossible.¡±

    The thing he was most concerned about was whether the herb growers were still around.

    If they had sold theirnd and moved away, restoring it would have been much harder.

    ¡®But I heard that most of them stayed in Sirin, even after selling theirnd. So the skills remain intact.¡¯

    He couldn¡¯t help but feel grateful to the Fourth Tower Master for that.

    It would mean that the herb growers, who had wandered across the continent, truly considered Sirin their home.

    ¡°Hm. But can we trust them? Even if they were coerced, they still sold theirnd in the end.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡­Do you think they wanted to sell theirnd?¡±

    Oscar gave a bitter smile and replied,

    ¡°Fran, do you know the best way to break a strong will?¡±

    ¡°Something we learned at the academy, right? It¡¯s softness, isn¡¯t it? They call it ¡®yu neng zhi gang¡¯, where softness can control hardness.¡±

    [PR/N: It¡¯s a chinese idiom that means ¡®the soft can ovee the hard¡¯.]

    That would be the correct answer on an exam, but Oscar shook his head.

    ¡°Hardness is the lowest approach, softness is intermediate, and from what I¡¯ve learned in life, emotion is the best method.¡±

    ¡°¡­Emotion?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s what people often callpassion or sentiment.¡±

    There are people in the world who won¡¯t bend their will, even in the face of death.

    But Oscar has seen that even those people waver when their loved ones are threatened.

    ¡°That¡¯s why I don¡¯t me them. If the White Tower hadn¡¯t fallen, if there had been power to protect them, the herb growers wouldn¡¯t have been in that situation in the first ce.¡±

    In the end, if you trace it all back, it was indirectly his fault.

    ¡®¡­But since I know now that the first button was fastened wrong, I can refasten it starting from here.¡¯

    Of course, the process would be inconvenient, tedious, and difficult.

    But in the end, only a sense of satisfaction would remain, as always.

    Because he has learned this well.

    When you fall, just get up again; once you make a mistake, just avoid making it twice.

    Oscar stood up from the tform, dusting off his pants.

    ¡°It¡¯ste. Time to go to bed...¡±

    In the middle of his sentence, Oscar suddenly turned his head to one side.

    With narrowed eyes, he stared intently at a spot somewhere in the herb garden.

    "What''s with the creepy look? Did you see a ghost?"

    "No."

    Surprised, Fran turned his head as well, but he didn¡¯t seem to sense anything unusual.

    ¡®For Fran, who has decent magical perception, not to notice anything¡­ That means whoever is approaching now is suppressing their presence as much as possible.¡¯

    Approaching silently under the cover of night was never a good sign.

    Oscar spoke in a calm tone.

    ¡°Fran, we¡¯d better prepare to wee our guests.¡±

    The cold night wind brushed past his hair.

    * * *

    ¡°What¡¯s gotten into them?¡±

    Pop! Pop!

    A green-haired man blew bubbles and popped them repeatedly, muttering with curiosity.

    ¡°I mean,st time when they offered to kill him, they refused, right? Kidnapping or threats were fine, but killing a ¡®national treasure¡¯ carries a different weight.¡±

    The person who responded was an older spearman carrying a long spear on his back.

    ¡°Who cares? If the client pays, we do it. We¡¯ve always done it that way, and we¡¯ll keep doing it.¡±

    ¡°Do you get that indifferent about everything as you age? Ugh, I hope I never get that old.¡±

    The three men walking through the night herb garden were mercenaries contracted by Dvor Powell.

    While they called themselves mercenaries, they were actually wanted criminals with bounties on their heads, known as the infamous ¡®Gunman Jack¡¯s Gang¡¯ in the northern region.

    Jack, the leader, warned them,

    ¡°Don¡¯t get careless. They said there might be a mage.¡±

    ¡°Hm. They said something about the White Tower, right? That¡¯s a relief. It would¡¯ve been harder if it were one of the other Four Great Towers.¡±

    The green-haired man chuckled.

    ¡°Well, does it really matter? I¡¯ve never met a mage who knew how to really fight. They all just walk around with their heads high, none of them are truly seasoned.¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes, we know you¡¯re great, so don¡¯t get too cocky.¡±

    The spearman looked ahead.

    ¡°The map says it¡¯s that house over there. But the lights are off. Seems early for bed¡­¡±

    ¡°Max, go check it out.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡±

    Max, the green-haired man, spat out his gum and quietly approached the cottage, crouched low.

    With skillful ease, he picked the lock and silently opened the door.

    Turning to look back, Jack gave him a nod, signaling to finish the job.

    Max, keeping his steps light, pulled out a dagger as he approached the bed.

    ¡®Hm?¡¯

    In the darkness of the cabin, something didn¡¯t feel right, and his eyes narrowed.

    Even with the nket covering it, the shape beneath seemed too bulky to be a person.

    ¡°Damn it¡­¡±

    It was a trap.

    Just as Max realized this and began to turn to escape¡­

    ¡°You¡¯re too quick to catch on.¡±

    Thud!

    Thepressed air burst, and a spinning wind bullet drilled into his temple.

    The result was instant death.

    [Trantor - ra]

    [Proofreader - Gun]

    Max, who had long awaited his confrontation with a skilled magician, died without even a moment to feel pain.

    "¡­Hmm."

    Oscar''s face showed a hint of surprise at the result he¡¯d just created.

    ¡®Wind Bullet, huh. Its lethality is higher than I expected.¡¯

    This was one of the spells from the book Reinterpretation of Basic Magic that young Oscar had authored.

    A new style of attack magic that reinterpreted the weaponry of guns through the wind magic of the White Tower.

    If Wind Cutter specialized in "cutting," then this was a magic focused on "piercing."

    ¡®One down, three to go.¡¯

    Walking past Max''s body, Oscar calmly stepped outside.

    A spearman, meeting his gaze, asked,

    "¡­What happened to Max?"n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    "He¡¯s asleep inside. Go and fetch him, though he might be asleep for¡­ quite a while. Maybe¡­ forever?"

    "Tch, foolish bastard. This is why I told him not to let his guard down."

    The spearman clicked his tongue in annoyance.

    Seeing this, Oscar nodded to himself.

    ''They''re not amateurs.''

    Despite the clear provocation, they weren''t recklessly charging forward.

    That meant they weren''t the type to be easily consumed by momentary emotions.

    "If he''s already dead, then there''s nothing we can do about it."

    The gunman spoke to Oscar with a remarkably cold expression.

    "Just tell us the location of the herbalist, and I promise not to hold any sentiment over Max''s death."

    "Heh."

    Oscar admired hisposure but had only one response.

    "Just go ahead and hold on to your sentiment."

    "If you''re so set on seeing blood, then."

    With a re brimming with intent, the gunman gave themand.

    "Kill him."

    "As you wish."

    The spearman, who''d nodded, closed the distance in an instant.

    Oscar, still calm, watched his opponent carefully.

    ¡®The main strength of a spearman lies in utilizing the long reach of their spear for a relentless barrage of attacks.

    So the first thing is to neutralize that strength.¡¯

    Snap!

    He clicked his fingers, and a Wind Shield materialized in front of him.

    "Oh? Trying to block me with some shield?"

    The spearman, scoffing, thrust his spear forward¡ªonly to pause, stunned.

    For the Wind Shield had angled itself just right, deftly deflecting the spear.

    Thrown off bnce, Oscar seized the opening and moved in close.

    ''No way¡­ was he aiming for this from the start?''

    It was an eerie level of skill, a move that belied his young face with its sophisticated precision.

    With just one exchange, he¡¯dpletely neutralized the spearman''s greatest advantage¡ªhis range.

    "¡­But, what a shame for you."

    With a sinister grin, the spearman twisted his spear, which split into two short spears.

    A strange and unique weapon.

    His was a peculiar weapon designed to catch his opponents off guard, ensuring their defeat in a first encounter.

    "Getting old means survival. Did you think I¡¯d reach this age withoutpensating for my weaknesses?"

    The two short spears sped toward Oscar¡¯s vital points.

    But Oscar muttered without a trace of concern.

    "Oh, so that¡¯s how it is."

    Apart from a decent speed, everything about the spearman was ordinary.

    He¡¯d thought there must be a reason this man had survived to his age¡­

    ¡®But what a letdown.¡¯

    Wind Bullet.

    Pwoom! Pwoom!

    In a sh, two bullets shot out, precisely hitting the tips of the short spears flying at him.

    Unable to withstand the impact, the weapons splintered, and the spearman¡¯s face twisted with shock.

    "I-Impossible¡­!"

    Such urate shooting, at such close range, against a surprise assault with a unique weapon?

    ¡®Even our leader couldn¡¯t pull that off¡­¡¯

    Just as this thought crossed his mind, Oscar raised his long, slender forefinger and middle finger to point at the spearman''s forehead.

    ¡®Second one down.¡¯

    As Oscar gathered his mana to finish off the spearman¡ª

    ¡°...!¡±

    Every hair on his body stood on end.

    His instincts, honed from countless battlefields and near-death encounters, screamed a warning.

    You are in danger.

    Wind Shield!

    Reacting reflexively, Oscar stepped back and summoned three Wind Shields.

    That movement ended up saving his life.

    A bullet whizzed in from behind the spearman, piercing all three shields and grazing Oscar¡¯s cheek.

    Watching the blood trickle down Oscar''s cheek, Jack shrugged.

    "Too bad. If you¡¯d let your guard down just a bit more, you¡¯d have been dead for sure."

    "¡­Wasn¡¯t he your ally?"

    "Technically, he was a subordinate. I can always find another one."

    Criminals.

    What a despicable bunch.

    Looking down briefly at the spearman¡¯s crushed corpse, Oscar asked,

    "And what¡¯s that toy of yours?"

    "Oh, this?"

    Jack shook the massive sawed-off shotgun he held in one hand.

    "Well, calling it a toy wouldn¡¯t do it justice. Just know it¡¯s damn expensive."

    As Jack leisurely loaded a new shell, sure of his victory, Oscar¡¯s eyes narrowed.

    "It¡¯s enchanted with speed, power, and pration¡ªthree effects, right?"

    "¡­How did you know?"

    "Because my shield couldn¡¯t block it."

    Had even one of those three enchantments been missing, his Wind Shield wouldn¡¯t have been prated.

    Only someone with absolute confidence in their magic would make such a judgment.

    Jack, now finished reloading, murmured to himself.

    "Arrogant, but skilled enough to back it up. So the White Tower wasn¡¯tpletely bereft of talent like you, huh?"

    After a moment of contemtion, he shrugged and made an offer.

    "Not bad. I like your battle sense, your sharp instincts, and your skill in reading magic¡­ How about working with me?"

    "No."

    "Reason?"

    Oscar jerked his chin towards the spearman¡¯s body.

    "I feel like my back would itch."

    "Heh, I see."

    Even Jack found the reasoning understandable and wiped away any remaining hesitation.

    "In that case, there¡¯s no need for further conversation."

    Bang!

    The gunshot echoed, resuming the hunt.

    [Trantor - ra]

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 Chapter 16

    [Trantor - ra]

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    Chapter 16: Guardian of the Herb Field (4)

    The cold air pierced his lungs in the early morning.

    ¡°Huff, huff.¡±

    Oscar ran tirelessly through the herb field.

    Bang! Bang!

    Each time Jack''s gun spat fire, the ground shook and the air split apart.

    ''Now!''

    Oscar threw himself to dodge the deadly shower of bullets narrowly and rolled on the dirt floor.

    "......Pah!"

    He spat out the soil that had rushed into his mouth, then pressed himself t against the herb field, taking a moment to catch his breath.

    ''Huff, huff, this is embarrassing for a former Tower Master.''

    Fighting a skilled gunman was far more challenging than he had anticipated.

    The most troublesome thing was that Jack¡¯s bullets were faster than his magic.

    ''I can attack from long range too, but... a head-on fight puts me at a disadvantage.''

    In terms of destructive power and speed, Jack had the upper hand.

    ''If there is one weakness... it''s the reload time.''

    Due to the nature of guns, Jack had to reload after shooting, and his gun held only two bullets at a time.

    In other words, after two shots, his attacks had a mandatory pause.

    ''The time it takes him to reload is an average of 1.24 seconds.''

    Only in that fleeting moment did the initiative swing to Oscar¡¯s side.

    The oue of this battle would depend on whether he could capitalize on that opportunity.

    ''I''ve gathered all the necessary information¡­''

    It was time to make a move.

    Oscar was already exhausted from constant evasion, and his remaining mana was only half.

    If he didn''t change the flow of this battle now, he would end up as fertilizer for the herb field tonight.

    "Hup!"

    Oscar pushed off the ground, sprinting towards the gunman''s back.

    "There you are!"

    Jack, turning around quickly, burst intoughter.

    "Heh, hahahaha! After running around like a rat, the best you cane up with is closebat?"

    Closing the distance to force a misfire was a textbook strategy against a gunman.

    But the problem was that Jack was a veteran who had faced many powerful opponents.

    ''The movements of a greenhorn like you are predictable.''

    First of all, Oscar was too slow.

    Jack was confident he could hit Oscar even if he doubled his speed.

    Swish.

    Jack calmly calcted Oscar''s direction and speed, aiming his gun at the young mage¡¯s forehead.

    "An impressive charge, but¡­"

    Instead of mourning his two fallen subordinates, Jack felt a rush of exhration from winning the battle.

    This stimtion, this dopamine surge.

    It was the biggest reason he couldn¡¯t stop killing.

    With a wide grin, Jack pulled the trigger without a moment¡¯s hesitation.

    ¡°Die already!¡±

    Bang!

    The bullet, tearing through the air, grazed the ck hair of the charging mage.

    At the same time, a crack appeared on Jack''s once-smiling face.

    ¡®Did I miss? That¡¯s impossible.¡¯

    It wasn''t an excuse or stubbornness from unwillingness to admit his mistake.

    Just as Oscar was confident in his magic, Jack was confident in his marksmanship.

    ¡®If there''s no issue with me¡­ then the one who changed must be him.¡¯

    Jack concluded that Oscar had used an eleration spell in that brief moment.

    ''...Impressive.''

    Even though they were enemies, he couldn¡¯t help but be amazed at Oscar¡¯s nerve.

    To use eleration while a bullet was flying towards his head was a move that showed a cold, calcting mind.

    ¡®But that¡¯s as far as it goes.¡¯

    Though impressive, Jack had faced monsters much faster than this rookie.

    ¡®To eliminate any risk, I¡¯ll aim for the torso instead of the head to increase uracy.¡¯

    Jack had no reason to make a risky choice when he had the upper hand.

    ¡°Sorry, but my gun is loaded with two bullets.¡±

    With one bullet still in the chamber, the distance between them was 30 meters.

    Jack savored the slow-motion feel of this moment as he gently pulled the trigger.

    "You, young mage! I will forever remember your courage!"

    Bang!

    As the gunshot rang out across the dark herb field.

    Splurt!

    Blood sprayed into the air like a fountain.

    * * *

    The forced application of eleration to his iplete body brought immediate side effects.

    ¡°Guh¡­¡±

    Oscar struggled to breathe as his heart pounded wildly, as if it would burst.

    Yet even in this moment, his mind remained cold and rational, as if doused in icy water.

    ¡®The remaining distance is 30 meters.¡¯

    The enemy had already prepared to pull the trigger.

    Judging from the slightly lowered aim, Jack was targeting his abdomen or heart instead of his head.

    ¡®He wants a guaranteed victory rather than a reckless gamble.¡¯

    Oscar knew he couldn¡¯t dodge a bullet fired from this distance.

    ¡®If I were to stack the eleration spell three times¡­ it might be possible¡­!¡¯

    The problem was that his body wasn¡¯t strong enough to withstand that level of overload.

    If he elerated three times, his muscles would tear apart instantly.

    Despite all these unfavorable conditions, Oscar kept running.

    ¡®20 meters.¡¯

    Jack was an annoyingly cautious opponent.

    He hadn¡¯t pulled the trigger even as Oscar closed in.

    ¡®But¡­¡¯

    That kind of suspicion was exactly what Oscar needed right now.

    Jack probably believed he would win as long as he didn¡¯t make a ridiculous mistake.

    He must have thought that Oscar¡¯s only option to turn the tables was to use eleration magic.

    ¡®15 meters.¡¯

    At this distance, they could almost hear each other¡¯s breaths.

    Oscar focused all his senses on his eyes.

    ¡®Read it.¡¯

    The slight movement of Jack¡¯s finger on the trigger.

    The subtle twitch in the tendons that would ur right before he fired.

    Even the tiny wrinkle that formed at the corner of Jack¡¯s left eye just before shooting.

    Oscar read all these signs and made his move.

    ¡®Now.¡¯

    As Jack¡¯s finger squeezed the trigger, at almost the exact same instant, Oscar cast his spell. And it wasn¡¯t the eleration magic Jack had been wary of.

    ¡ºDurability Enhancement¡», ¡ºFriction Reduction¡»

    The spells Oscar cast strengthened the durability and reduced the friction of an object.

    And the target of these spells was none other than¡­

    ¡°A shield?¡±

    Jack¡¯s eyes widened in shock.

    The bullet, fired like a streak of light, nced off the nted shield and flew off into the night sky.

    ¡®Damn it! Reload. I need to reload quickly¡­!¡¯

    Jack hurriedly backed away, frantically trying to reload his gun.

    But his average reload time was 1.24 seconds.

    ¡®Meanwhile, it will take me only 1.08 seconds to reach you.¡¯

    Grimacing through the pain of his tearing leg muscles, Oscar swiftly closed the distance.

    Hhe extended two fingers, aiming at Jack''s chin.

    ¡°N-No...!¡±

    Jack''s eyes widened in terror, like antern being lit. At the same time, magic gathered at his fingertips.

    ¡ºWind Bullet.¡»

    Thud! St!

    Blood sprayed like a fountain, decorating the air.

    ¡°Guh¡­ Grrk.¡±

    Jack stumbled backward like a newborn deer before copsing, lifeless.

    ¡°Huff¡­¡±

    Oscar, who was staring down at the corpse, wasn¡¯t in great shape either.

    ¡®No more eleration for a while.¡¯

    The side effects of using eleration twice on an iplete body were severe.

    The veins in his legs were torn apart, enough to require at least two weeks just for recovery.

    ¡®I probably won¡¯t be able to run; walking slowly will be my limit.¡¯

    But he couldn''t afford to pass out and copse here.

    The battle wasn¡¯t over yet.

    ¡®I initially sensed four presences.¡¯

    Only three enemies hade to the cabin, and there were no other presences nearby.

    This could only mean one thing.

    ¡°Please hold on.¡±

    The remaining one was pursuing Fran and Ivan.

    [Trantor - ra]

    [Proofreader - Gun]

    * * *

    ¡°Huff, huff!¡±

    Fran¡¯s heavy breathing echoed as he climbed the mountain trail.

    Even in such a state, he made sure to look out for Ivan, who was running alongside him.

    ¡°Don''t... huff... Don''t worry about me. I''ll protect you.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    Ivan gave him a dubious look.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine. I¡¯m confident in my stamina... But are you alright?¡±

    ¡°Huff, huff. To be honest, my stamina... isn''t the best¡­¡±

    As he desperately thought of a refreshing drink of water, Fran suddenly stopped.

    Ivan, following behind, asked,

    ¡°Shall we rest for a bit if you¡¯re tired?¡±

    ¡°No, I didn¡¯t stop because I¡¯m tired.¡±

    Fran, after catching his breath, spoke with a serious expression.

    ¡°Mister, run as fast as you can down the right side path from here. Don¡¯t look back, no matter what.¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about...?¡±

    ¡°Well, well, you''ve got a better sense than you look.¡±

    A slim man stepped out from behind arge tree ahead, his steps leisurely.

    He nced Fran up and down and smirked.

    ¡°Honestly, it¡¯s surprising. You look so weak that I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d notice my presence.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    Fran cast a quick nce at Ivan, who hadn¡¯t yet left.

    ¡°Hurry up.¡±

    ¡°But... what about you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m quite strong. And more importantly, with you here, I can¡¯t fight freely.¡±

    Ivan nodded heavily at this cold statement, implying he would be a hindrance.

    ¡°If that''s the reason... Fine. Don¡¯t die.¡±

    Ivan disappeared quickly down the side path, but the man didn¡¯t pursue him; he just stood there.

    Fran squinted his eyes at the man¡¯s casual demeanor and asked,

    ¡°Are you here to target me?¡±

    ¡°Hah! What a joke. Who do you think you are?¡±

    The man chuckled, ncing at the direction Ivan had fled.

    ¡°My target is that old man. But I¡¯ve never killed a mage from the Four Great Towers before.¡±

    His curious gaze fixed on Fran as if he were a target.

    ¡°I¡¯ve always wondered what¡¯s so special about the mages from the Four Great Towers that everyone fears them so much.¡±n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    ¡°...¡±

    ¡°So I¡¯ll kill you first, then chase down that old man at my leisure.¡±

    Finishing his exnation, the man smirked, licking his lips.

    ¡°That should be enough... exnation, right?¡±

    With that, the man''s figure stretched out like a piece of taffy, closing the distance instantly.

    Fran, seeing the opponent rapidly approaching, calmly cast a spell.

    ¡ºWind Cutter¡»

    Two des of wind shot forward.

    ng! ng!

    The swordsman parried the attack while rushing forward, reaching Fran in the blink of an eye.

    As he relished the look of surprise on Fran¡¯s face, he thrust his sword at the unprotected heart.

    The de shot forward like a sh, piercing Fran¡¯s heart.

    ¡®...What?¡¯

    The swordsman¡¯s face stiffened.

    With the experience of having killed dozens of people, he knew something was off.

    The sensation of piercing a human heart should never feel this light.

    ¡®This is like...!¡¯

    A ghost.

    Yes, it was like stabbing a phantom monster.

    ¡®Something¡¯s wrong.¡¯

    Realizing that the situation had taken a turn, the swordsman tried to pull back quickly.

    Whoosh!

    Fran grabbed the swordsman''s nape and slit his throat with a Wind Cutter.

    ¡°Gah! Grrk¡­!¡±

    The swordsman''s eyes widened, bloodshot and filled with confusion¡ªWhy? How?

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    Fran spoke in a calm voice, devoid of mockery.

    The swordsman, trying to ask why he was apologizing, suddenly fell silent.

    As he stumbled backward, he finally understood.

    ¡®This guy¡¯s... body?¡¯

    The area around Fran¡¯s chest was hollow, like a gaping hole where only the wind swirled.

    Clearly, it wasn¡¯t a hole caused by his sword thrust.

    ¡°Heh, hehe.¡±

    The swordsman chuckled like a madman.

    He realized why he had lost this fight and why Fran had apologized.

    ¡®This bastard... is a rare-type mage.¡¯

    A mage who could transform parts of their body into the wind¡ªa formidable ability.

    At the moment when the sword was about to pierce the heart, he must have turned that part of his body into wind.

    ¡°...¡±

    It wasn¡¯t that hecked talent, or that he hadn¡¯t tried hard enough.

    It was just luck.

    The reason he would die tonight was simply because he had encountered a rare-type mage.

    ¡®Damn Four Great Towers...¡¯

    Suddenly, a piece of advice he¡¯d once overheard at a tavern resurfaced in his mind.

    ¡°If you want to live long in this line of work, never get involved with those Four Great Tower guys. The ce is filled with all sorts of prodigies and mysterious beings.¡±

    With a deep sense of futility, the light faded from the swordsman¡¯s eyes.

    * * *

    ¡°Well, I didn¡¯t see thising.¡±

    A gun''s barrel lowered slowly from behind a shaded tree in the mountains.

    Oscar¡¯s eyes took on a strange look.

    ¡®Who would¡¯ve thought that Fran was a rare-type mage?¡¯

    Rare-type magic was already far from ordinary, but Fran''s magic was especially unique.

    ¡®To think I¡¯d actually witness that spell.¡¯

    It was a magic he had only ever seen in ancient texts, one he had doubted had ever existed.

    Perhaps no one else in this world knew about it.

    ¡°...Wind Sovereign (F¨±haku).¡±

    That was the unique magic belonging to the Seventh Tower Master of the past, a rare magic type.

    [Trantor - ra]

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 Chapter 17

    [Trantor - ra]

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    Chapter 17: Guardian of the Herb Field (5)

    ¡°Thank you. Truly, thank you.¡±

    Morning hade after surviving a night of bloodshed.

    Ivan, who seemed like someone incapable of expressing emotion, even hugged them to show his gratitude.

    ¡°If it weren''t for you, I wouldn''t have lived to see this morning''s sun.¡±

    ¡°Oh,e on. I didn''t really do much¡­ It was this guy who handled it all.¡±

    Despite Fran''s humility, Oscar shook his head.

    ¡°I missed checking the opponent. Ivan''s life wouldn''t have been guaranteed if it weren''t for you.¡±

    "Wh-what...?"

    Fran, who hadn''t expected any praise, widened his eyes in surprise.

    Oscar gave him a light punch on the chest and spoke.

    ¡°You did well. I''m d you came along.¡±

    ¡°Uh, uh... Yeah, thanks.¡±

    Fran, who seemed momentarily out of sorts, quickly pulled himself together and changed the topic.

    ¡°Anyway, you know this isn''t over, right?¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡±

    Ivan¡¯s face darkened at those words.

    It was obvious that the failed assassin would send someone even stronger next time.

    Especially since the one suspected to be behind this incident, Dvor Powell, was more than capable of doing so.

    ¡°To be honest, I was quite surprised myself. I never thought he would go so far as to try to kill me¡­¡±

    ¡°Right? He should know that targeting a national treasure would prompt the royal family to take action.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s probably because of us.¡±

    Oscar chimed in.

    ¡°Seeing you with us must have made him anxious, prompting him to act.¡±

    To be fair, Dvor''s judgment was rather sharp.

    Had he not moved, the White Tower would have likely revived the herb industry with Ivan''s help.

    ¡°But now that his gamble failed, it''s time for him to face the consequences.¡±

    ¡°Right. Just informing the royal family that he tried to kill a national treasure should be enough for them to take care of it.¡±

    ¡°The royal family, huh¡­¡±

    However, Ivan''s expression did not brighten at all.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure if we¡¯ll be able to match the timing. The royal family is a massive organization, so they tend to handle matters slowly and cautiously. If Dvorunches a full-scale attack during that gap...¡±

    ¡°Oh, you don¡¯t need to worry about that. The royal family will move faster than light.¡±

    Oscar smiled at the confused Ivan, who blinked his eyes, not understanding.

    The reason for Oscar''s confidence was simple:

    Today was the day when the royal family was signing a contract with the White Tower for the treatment of the Cadena flu.

    * * *

    ¡°What? Failure?¡±

    Dvor¡¯s face twisted with rage.

    He slowly approached the secretary standing before him.

    ¡°Hey. Be honest with me.¡±

    ¡°Y-yes?¡±

    ¡°You want me to fail, don¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°.....¡±

    The secretary almost reflexively answered "yes," but quickly forced a stoic expression.

    ¡°Of course not. That¡¯s impossible.¡±

    ¡°If that¡¯s impossible, then why do you always handle things this way? I thought those guys were supposed to be good?¡±

    ¡°Well, they should be. They¡¯re the Gunsman Jack crew, aren¡¯t they? Said to make even crying children stop¡­¡±

    ¡°Bullshit.¡±

    Wham!

    Dvor kicked the secretary in the shin and yanked his hair, growling.

    ¡°Are those guys really skilled? Did you verify it properly? Or did we get scammed?¡±

    ¡°B-but Gunslinger Jack is notorious in the North¡­¡±

    ¡°Screw their reputation, we needed results!¡±

    Dvor, clicking his tongue, threw the secretary¡¯s head to the ground and lit a cigar.

    ¡°First, erase all traces. Make it seem like those guys had nothing to do with us.¡±

    Attempting to kill a national treasure¡ªif word got out, even execution by beheading would be too lenient.

    Both men knew that better than anyone, so their next steps were clear.

    ¡°There won¡¯t be a speck of evidence left.¡±

    As the secretary bowed and was about to leave the room, a group of men and women suddenly burst in.

    ¡°W-what is this? Who are you?¡±

    The one who answered the bewildered secretary was a man at the front, dressed in a deep navy uniform.

    ¡°I¡¯m Chief Walker from the Imperial Ministry of Internal Affairs'' Security Bureau.¡±

    ¡°I-Imperial Ministry of Internal Affairs? And a Chief, no less¡­?¡±

    Dvor, who had been puffing on his cigar, widened his eyes in shock.

    He knew very well what the Imperial Ministry of Internal Affairs'' Security Bureau was like.

    An infamously feared organization that would even summon the souls of the dead to gather evidence if there wasn¡¯t any.

    And a Chief was the highest rank in the Security Bureau, short of a ministerial position.

    The fact that such a person hade for him made Dvor''s hands tremble.

    ¡°You must be Dvor Powell.¡±

    Chief Walker, verifying the photo on a document, approached Dvor and spoke.

    ¡°You are hereby under arrest for charges of inciting murder, intimidation, illegal property acquisition, and attempting to damage a national treasure.¡±

    ¡°...Arrest, you say?¡±

    Dvor jumped in shock.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got the wrong person! I¡¯m a respectable businessman!¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll decide that, so keep your mouth shut. Handcuff him.¡±

    ¡°.....¡±

    Staring at the approaching officers with handcuffs, Dvor¡¯s eyes darted wildly.

    ¡®Damn it. This is beyond what I can handle alone.¡¯

    The only person he could think of to rely on now was one, so he forced aposed tone and spoke.

    ¡°At least give me a moment to smoke a cigarette before I go?¡±

    When the investigators hesitated, Chief Walker gave a dry order.

    ¡°What are you waiting for? Cuff him and take him away.¡±

    ¡°Y-you there! Do you know who I am? Do you even know who¡¯s backing me¡­?¡±

    ¡°Whoever it is, it doesn''t matter. But if their rank is higher than His Majesty the Emperor, then feel free to say their name.¡±

    ¡°......¡±

    In a situation where he might be charged with treason against the royal family, Dvor had no choice but to lower his head.

    Like a meek chick, he allowed himself to be handcuffed and led away.

    Watching this, Walker approached a window, exhaling a cloud of smoke as he muttered.

    ¡°...Tastes good. Criminals always seem to smoke the most expensive stuff.¡±

    ¡°Chief, I¡¯ve got a question.¡±

    A subordinate approached and asked quietly.

    ¡°Why did we move on this guy in just a day? This is the first time we¡¯ve ever acted so quickly.¡±

    ¡°...It was an order from above.¡±

    ¡°From above?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. His Majesty has a deep fondness for the White Tower. To an exhausting degree.¡±

    ¡°Pardon? What does that mean?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s adult business, kid.¡±

    This morning, a tip-off was received during the contract process between the royal family and the White Tower for the treatment.

    It detailed the crimesmitted by a certain businessman, leading to the current situation.

    ¡°Damn.¡±

    Walker clicked his tongue, looking displeased with the whole affair.

    The White Tower... Sure, they achieved heroic feats in the past.

    But that was 20 years ago¡ªan ancient tale by now.

    Walker was one of those who believed that the royal family had already paid its dues.

    In fact, he thought they hadpensated them more than enough.

    ¡®No matter how much you lift a bird with broken wings, the only difference is the speed of its fall.¡¯

    He coldly concluded that the current White Tower neither had the capability nor deserved the treatment they were receiving.

    However, he was also somewhat curious.

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    "......Doran, how old are you this year?"

    "I''m twenty-three, sir."

    "Then you must have been three years old, twenty years ago."

    It wasn''t much different for him, either.

    When he was about twelve, humanity won the war against the demons and finally achieved true liberation.

    The memories of that time were as hazy as diluted perfume.

    ''What kind of existence was the White Tower back then? Why do the higher-ups still reminisce about them, unable to let go of their expectations?''

    Walker pulled out a document from his coat and flicked away his cigar ashes.

    "......Oscar Crucian, Fran Sirius."

    These two mages recently captured the infamous ouw group known as Jack''s Gang.

    Though they were mercenaries by name, they were nothing more than criminals.

    However, their skills were undeniably formidable.

    ''I just don''t get it. I truly don''t understand. Are these two youngsters really the ''new wind'' the White Tower has been waiting for?''

    Yet, they had undeniably preempted the Cadena flu, which could have led to a terrible epidemic, exposed the wrongdoing of a corrupt businessman, and apprehended criminals disrupting public order.

    Lost in thought, Walker folded the document neatly and returned it to his coat, then turned around.

    "Let''s go. There''s one more ce to visit on our way back."

    "Huh? Wasn''t this thest item on today''s agenda?"

    "......To the west."

    Doran, wide-eyed, hurriedly followed behind.

    "What''s the destination, sir?"

    Walker replied curtly, as if annoyed.

    This matter was rted to the White Tower, but it was a task he had added independently, not by the emperor''s order.

    "We''re going to issue a suspension order for the factories near Wolfgang for illegally discharging wastewater and pollutants."

    With that, the repayment for capturing Jack''s Gang was concluded.

    * * *

    Deputy Tower Master Hamel Grimwiz read the morning newspaper alongside his travel report.

    [Gunsman Jack''s Gang, a menace in the northern region, killed by White Tower mages.]

    [The ugly truth behind a respectable businessman: A special report on the Dvor Powell incident.]

    [The Imperial Family awards the White Tower''s two mages with the Brave Citizen Award for protecting a cultural asset.]

    Tap tap.

    The Deputy Tower Master folded the newspaper with a smile.

    "Oscar always exceeds my expectations."

    When he mentioned going to check the herb garden, Hamel thought he just wanted some fresh air.

    So he generously gave him some spending money for a good time...

    "To think he would achieve such remarkable feats there."

    "To be honest, I didn''t expect it either. It was just good luck."

    Oscar shrugged humbly, and the Deputy Tower Master gave him a warm look.

    "Most people miss the opportunities thate their way and end up regretting it. Only those prepared can seize them. It seems the White Tower should also give you a reward. Is there anything specific you want?"

    "Hmm... Ah."

    Oscar, recalling something, spoke up.

    "There is information I would like to have. Would it be possible?"

    "There''s nothing I can''t provide. What information do you want?"

    "What I want is... information about the families or descendants of the mages who were present at the ''Night of Purge'' when the former White Tower Master, Oscar Sage, confronted the Grand Emperor."

    Upon hearing this, Deputy Tower Master Hamel Grimwiz was slightly surprised.

    "That''s quite an unexpected request. Could you tell me why you want this information?"

    "How can those who forget the past build a good future?"

    Though his words were rather vague, the Deputy Tower Master understood the core of his message precisely.

    "Those who forget the past have no future... Haha, I see."

    "Apologies if I seemed presumptuous."

    "No, it''s rather embarrassing that we, the White Tower, have neglected the families of the distinguished figures due to the harshness of reality."

    Even a young man of just twenty years old understands such basic decency... Hamel mumbled to himself and sighed in embarrassment.

    "I''ll have the information properly investigated and provided to you. It might take some time. If they need financial assistance, the White Tower will handle it first."

    "That would be greatly appreciated."

    It would be more appropriate if the influential White Tower provided support directly.

    "Very well. I''ll let you know once the results are out..."

    Rrrrrrrr!

    At that moment, the phone on the Deputy Tower Master''s desk rang loudly.

    Hamel gave an apologetic nce and picked up the receiver to start his conversation.

    ''Silence.''

    Due to the spell ¡ºSilence¡» cast by the Deputy Tower Master, none of the conversation could be heard.

    However, it was clear from his darkening expression that something serious was being discussed.

    "Hmm."

    The Deputy Tower Master, looking rather fatigued, put down the receiver.

    "Is something wrong?"

    "No, it''s nothing for you to worry about... Well, maybe it is."

    The Deputy Tower Master lifted his head and spoke.

    "The call was from the owner of the Sirius Trading Company."

    "Sirius Trading Company...?"

    "Ah, it seems you don''t remember. The Sirius Trading Company is thergest in the Empire, known by everyone."

    The name Sirius Trading Company felt oddly familiar.

    Oscar, pondering why, asked:

    "Is it rted to that guy, Fran?"

    "Yes, Fran is the youngest son of the Sirius family."

    "Huh."

    Oscar was genuinely surprised.

    He hadn''t expected that slippery guy to be the scion of such a prestigious family.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    "Does that mean the person who called is from Fran''s family... What was the conversation about?"

    "They said they''ll be sending someone from the Sirius family to pick up Fran today."

    "Pick him up...?"

    "Yes, they mentioned that they''ve discussed it with him, but I don''t know the details."

    The Deputy Tower Master looked directly at Oscar and continued.

    "Personally, it''s quite disappointing. I had high hopes for Fran and enjoyed watching his growth."

    "......"

    Oscar''s expression turned sour.

    He instantly understood the implications behind the Deputy Tower Master''s words.

    ''The Deputy Tower Master can''t step in himself, so he''s asking me to persuade Fran to stay.''

    Well, it wasn''t a bad deal for him either.

    They needed as many talented mages like Fran to rebuild the White Tower as possible.

    ''Not to mention, he possesses the Wind Spirit.''

    If nurtured properly, he had the potential to rival even dozens of high-ranking mages.

    Having organized his thoughts, Oscar nodded.

    "I''ll do my best to persuade him."

    "Haha."

    The Deputy Tower Masterughed heartily, like someone whose itch had just been scratched.

    "That wasn''t my intention, but I hope it turns out well."

    "......Yes."

    With a reluctant reply, Oscar left the room, and Hamel Grimwiz stared at the closed door.

    "The Night of Purge, huh."

    From what he knew, it was the operation name for the grand hunt against the Great Emperor twenty years ago.

    Since the emperor dered that day a national holiday, it had been known as ''White Night''s Day.''

    ''Even I haven''t heard that term in twenty years.''

    How did a mere twenty-year-old kide to know that name?

    The Deputy Tower Master blinked his eyes, puzzled.

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 Chapter 18

    [Trantor - ra]

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    Chapter 18: The Ugly Duckling (1)

    Knock, knock.

    After a light knock, the door opened, and a familiar face peeked in.

    "What? It''s you?"

    Fran gestured him inside with his usual cheerful expression.

    "Come in. Now that I think about it, this is probably the first time you''vee to see me first, isn''t it?"

    "..."

    A leather suitcasey wide open on the bed in the tidy room.

    Fran chuckled softly as he neatly packed his folded clothes into it.

    "Oh, this? I''m going back to my family this time."

    "I heard. You''re from a pretty prestigious family, it seems."

    "Haha, you found out. Losing your memory made that a bit easier."

    Fran, scratching the back of his head awkwardly, nodded.

    "Life at the Magic Tower was fun, but it''s time for me to return to my ce."

    "To learn the trade business?"

    "As you know, I have a good eye for things. I''ll help out with the trade business and... also get married."

    "Marriage?"

    Oscar asked with an intrigued expression.

    "Do you have someone in mind?"

    "...Yeah, I do."

    Fran muttered with a bitter smile.

    "They say she''s a good person. Plus, her family is influential and could help ours in various ways."

    "You''re taking a long time to say ''arranged marriage''."

    Oscar plopped down on the sofa and asked.

    "Are you okay with that?"

    "They say she''s beautiful, kind, andes from a good family. What''s not to like?"

    "I''m not talking about marriage. I''m asking if you''re okay with giving up magic."

    "......"

    Fran''s busy hands stopped abruptly as he was packing.

    Staring nkly at his suitcase, he finally spoke after a long pause.

    "Well, it would be a lie to say I''m not disappointed. But you can''t always do what you want in life."

    "Most people can''t, but someone from a great family like yours probably could."

    "...That''s exactly why I can''t."

    Fran shook his head with a bitter smile.

    "I grew up enjoying privileges and experiences that most people couldn''t even dream of. But I can''t keep taking without giving back. I need to start pulling my weight."

    "Is that just how trade families operate? Even with family, everything is strictly ounted for."

    "Honestly, I prefer it that way. Receiving everything one-sidedly makes me ufortable too."

    Oscar felt he understood the sentiment.

    When someone shows you kindness without reason, you often feel uneasy and burdened, knowing you''ll need to repay it someday.

    You''d think family would be different, but it doesn''t always seem to be.

    "But do you have to repay that debt through trade alone? You could seed as a mage and repay them that way."

    "...I wish I could."

    Everyone has grand ns.

    It''s just that the odds of those ns actually seeding are usually slim.

    "I used to think I was a pretty special person, you know? Buting here made me realize I¡¯m not."

    It''s amon story.

    A child who thought they were exceptional finally waking up to reality.

    Fran turned slightly and looked at Oscar.

    "I''m sorry to say this to someone who loves this ce so much, but honestly, I chose the White Tower because it seemed like the easiest option. I thought I could at least be the head of the snake here."

    Even though it''s fallen from grace, the White Tower is still one of the four major Magic Towers.

    If he could be a representative mage of the White Tower, he''d have plenty to say to his family.

    "But I couldn''t make it here either. I guess my talent was only that much."

    "...Fran Sirius."

    "What? Go ahead, insult me if you want."

    His tone suggested he no longer cared.

    Oscar nced at the well-organized room that reflected its owner''s meticulous nature and turned away.

    "You do have talent."

    "Thanks. It''s nice to hear that from a genius before I leave."

    "I''m serious. Listen carefully."

    Oscar looked at him with a more serious expression than ever.

    "Want to give it a try? Being the head of the snake."

    "...Did you not listen to anything I just said? I can''t do it even if I want to."

    "That''s why I''m offering to help with that part..."

    Knock, knock.

    At that moment, a knock interrupted their conversation, and both of them turned their heads.

    Even without the owner''s permission, the door opened, and someone stepped inside.

    It was a man with a hollowed cheek on one side, giving him a cold and sharp impression.

    "This room is quite unimpressive."

    The man nced around the room with a dry gaze, then walked up to Fran with his hands behind his back.

    "I''m already busy enough, but because of you, I''m going through all this trouble."

    "...Brother."

    Fran''s voice came out in a barely audible whisper, his shoulders hunched.

    He looked visibly intimidated, but the man seemed used to it and didn''t care.

    "If you''re done packing,e down. I''ll be waiting downstairs."

    Having said only what he wanted, the man turned sharply to leave the room.

    "How much?"

    He paused.

    Fran''s brother slowly turned his body back and looked at Oscar, who was sitting on the sofa.

    "...And who are you?"

    "Oscar Crucian. This guy''s friend."

    "Ah, the mage who made the cure this time."

    Nodding, the man introduced himself formally.

    "My name is Gran Sirius, the eldest son of the Sirius family and deputy head of the Sirius Trading Company. I''m this good-for-nothing''s brother."

    Gran''s gaze narrowed.

    "Now, what did you just ask?"

    "I asked how much it would cost for Fran to stay. The White Tower still needs him."

    "How insolent. Under imperialw, the punishment for human trafficking is death, no exceptions."

    Gran continued, unfazed, with a dry expression as if telling a dull joke.

    "Besides, I have no intention of selling him. Born into the Sirius family, he must first follow the family''s rules."

    His gaze shifted to Fran.

    "More importantly, sending out a foolish person who can''t even voice their own opinion is embarrassing."

    "......You''re right, brother."

    Fran bowed his head and closed his leather bag.

    "Oscar, I appreciate you stepping up for me, but it''s enough now."

    "Sorry to burst your bubble, but I''m only doing this for the White Tower and myself."

    With that, Oscar walked past Fran and approached Gran.

    "If you''re a merchant, I have a deal you might find enticing."

    "A deal?"

    Gran tilted his chin arrogantly.

    "Go on, speak."

    "I''ll turn this guy into a top mage of the White Tower within two years. In the long run, this will be more beneficial for the Sirius family than learning the family trade."

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    "A top mage of the Four Great Towers in two years?"

    Gran asked back, looking somewhat intrigued.

    "Then what''s the cost if you fail?"

    "I''ll offer what merchants love most."

    Oscar made a coin shape with his fingers.

    "If I fail to keep my promise, I will hand over all profits from the treatment and vine sales of the Cadena Flu to the Sirius Trading Company for the next 50 years."

    "Hey, hey! Are you crazy?"

    Fran jumped in shock.

    Although Oscar was the one who restored the treatment, this was beyond his authority to decide.

    Gran pointed that out too.

    "Do you have the authority to proceed with such a big deal?"

    "If needed, I can have the Deputy Tower Master serve as a witness."

    "......"

    Gran stroked his chin in thought before nodding.

    "Hm. The risk-reward ratio is so favorable it almost feels like a scam. But let me ask you one thing first."

    "Go ahead."

    "Do you believe this guy is worth all this effort, or is this just a matter of simple friendship?"

    Worth the effort, huh?

    Oscar spoke with utmost seriousness.

    "......You may find itughable, but I intend to restore the White Tower''s prestige to its peak within five years. The Cadena Flu medicine was just the opening salvo."

    "Hmm."

    Seeing Gran''s intrigued expression, Oscar nced at Fran.

    "You asked if he was worth the effort?"

    There''s no need to say it twice.

    Oscar saw limitless potential in this clumsy, young mage.

    "He is. Fran Sirius is one of the essential talents for the new White Tower I''m nning."n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om

    "......."

    Fran swallowed hard.

    Due to his background, he''d met countless types of people since he was young.

    Most approached him with ulterior motives, acting fake and selfish.

    This was the first time.

    The first time someone said they needed him, not as the youngest son of the Sirius Trading Company, but as Fran Sirius, the mage.

    "......How naive."

    Gran chuckled lightly.

    "But as a merchant, I can''t overlook an opponent''s mistake. However, I have one condition."

    "A condition?"

    Oscar had already revealed all his cards.

    He thought any merchant would undoubtedly ept the proposal.

    "......I believe the offer is already quite good."

    "I agree, but there''s one thing you''ve overlooked."

    Gran extended his index finger.

    "Top-tier merchants value customer trust more than money. You can always earn money, but trust is not so easily gained."

    "Trust......?"

    "I don''t do business with just anyone. This is also a matter of my clients'' dignity. So, prove that you have the capability to deal with the Vice Leader of the Sirius Trading Company."

    "How should I prove it?"

    "I have a Level 5 knight among my escorts. Tomorrow at noon, demonstrate your abilities in a duel against him, and I''ll ept the deal."

    "......You say this knowing I''m only a Level 2 mage?"

    "Oh, is that so? Then we''ll make it a condition that he won''t use sword aura."

    "........"

    Oscar bit his lip.

    Even at his current level, fighting a Level 5 knight was impossible.

    Even if the knight didn''t use sword aura, the result would be the same.

    ''This guy, he''s basically saying he won''t give up Fran. Refusing an astronomical sum just to keep Fran likely means one thing. The arranged marriage partner''s family must be extraordinarily powerful.''

    "Alright then, I''ll see you tomorrow."

    As Gran left the room, Fran quickly spoke up.

    "Oscar, let''s go back to him now and call this off. I''ll go with you."

    "........"

    "Why aren''t you saying anything? He''s just mad at you and wants to beat you up."

    "Hold on, be quiet for a second. I''m thinking."

    Cutting him off, Oscar suddenly circled around Fran, examining him closely.

    After a moment, he nodded to himself, having reached a conclusion.

    "Hmm. This might work."

    "What? Are you crazy? Even if you''re a genius, some things are just impossible! How do you n to fight a Level 5 knight as a mere Level 2 mage? Besides, your body isn''t fully recovered from the injuries you got in the herb field."

    "Sure, if I fight, I''ll lose. Out of a hundred battles, I might win one."

    Even with his countlessbat experiences, they wouldn''t matter against overwhelming strength.

    "But if it''s a Level 4 mage, it might be doable, right?"

    "......Are you saying you''re going to be a Level 4 mage in just one day?"

    "No way. Even I can''t do something that ridiculous. But instead..."

    Oscar''s strange gaze fixed on Fran.

    "Helping a mage stuck at the cusp of Level 3 advance to Level 4 is possible."

    "......Wait a second. Are you serious?"

    "Fran Sirius."

    Gran didn''t say Oscar had to fight the knight himself.

    He just needed to prove his abilities during the duel.

    Oscar grabbed Fran''s shoulders and smiled broadly.

    "You, you''ll be a Level 4 mage today."

    "And then you''ll fight in my ce."

    [Trantor - ra]

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 Chapter 19

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    Chapter 19: The Ugly Duckling (2)

    The training room on the 40th floor.

    Fran, practically dragged there, let out a sigh of resignation.

    "I don''t know if I can achieve in one day what I haven''t been able to in years."

    "It''s possible. But you have to trust mepletely."

    "¡­What exactly are you nning to teach me?"

    "First, stand in a natural posture and close your eyes."

    A natural posture involves standing still and rxing the entire body, letting the limbs hang loosely.

    It has a slower flow of manapared to a meditative pose, but it has its own advantages.

    ''Humans are naturally upright-walking creatures. To assess one''s usual habits and tendencies, this posture is better than a cross-legged position.''

    "Like this?"

    "Good. Now try circting your mana throughout your body."

    "......."

    With his eyes closed, Fran focused intensely and began to move his mana slowly.

    Oscar, observing him quietly, made a move.

    "Here, here, and over here¡­."

    He pointed out several spots along his mana circuits with his fingers.

    "These are areas where you experience mana loss during cirction."

    "¡­!"

    Fran''s eyshes fluttered as he kept his eyes closed.

    He had instantly identified habits he wasn''t even aware of.

    "If you have a lot of these points, your spell execution is bound to suffer."

    "¡­If I fix these, will I reach level 4?"

    "Not necessarily. This isn''t directly rted to your level."

    With enough talent, even someone with terrible habits could be a level 4 mage.

    "In fact, 99.9% of mages don''t even concern themselves with these details."

    "Then why¡­?"

    "However, 0.1% of the mages in history who were called Archmages? Every single one of them paid attention to this."

    "¡­!"

    There''s always a reason why the best obsess over certain details.

    Before diving into the main lesson, Oscar intended to address Fran''s fundamental issues.

    "Remember what I''m about to teach you and practice it every morning."

    He began exining the problems with each mana circuit as if revealing the answers to a math problem.

    "This circuit here has a sharp turn. The mana enters too quickly and crashes against the wall, causing significant loss. Be mindful of your entry speed."

    "On the other hand, this area is too slow. You need to push the mana through more forcefully and swiftly."

    "This circuit has six entry points, so you need to split your mana into six streams. That way, you minimize loss and maximize speed."

    Fran couldn''t even imagine the value of the information he was receiving.

    This was something that even most high-ranking mages would find difficult to teach.

    "¡­Do I have to pay attention to all these details every time I cast a spell?"

    "Eventually, it will be as natural as breathing."

    Fran looked at Oscar like he was a monster and stuck out his tongue.

    "This is why geniuses are on a different level... Anyway, I memorized everything you taught me."

    Fortunately, after hearing them just once, Fran was smart enough to remember the exnations.

    Oscar nodded in satisfaction.

    "Alright, then let''s start the actual lesson now."

    Fran flinched and opened his eyes at his words.

    "We haven''t even started yet?"

    "I told you, this has nothing to do with your level."

    So far, everything had justid the foundation for bing an excellent mage.

    Oscar, having addressed the basics, suddenly looked serious.

    "Fran Sirius, I made it clear before we start. You said you would trust mepletely."

    "I did."

    "Then show me the spell you used during your fight with the swordsman in the herb field."

    "¡­You saw that?"

    Letting out a deep sigh, Fran shook his head.

    "Sorry."

    "Was it a lie when you said you trusted me?"

    "No, it''s not that I don''t trust you¡­"

    Avoiding his gaze, Fran muttered in a barely audible voice.

    "I''m scared."

    "¡­Scared?"

    Oscar''s expression became curious.

    There are usually two main reasons why someone would be scared of their own magic.

    "Does using that spell cause serious side effects, or do you have some traumatic memory associated with it?"

    "Thetter."

    Fran slumped his shoulders as he continued.

    "I nearly died once while using that spell."

    "Tell me more. That way, I can suggest a solution."

    "Ugh."

    Frowning deeply, Fran touched upon a memory he didn''t even want to recall.

    * * *

    From a young age, Fran Sirius considered himself a genius.

    In any physical activity or academic endeavor, he had never failed to be at the top of his peer group.

    "¡­"

    Had he not been part of the Sirius family, he might have lived content with his talents.

    Smack!

    "Ouch!"

    After being hit on the head with a wooden sword and falling, Fran was surrounded by two boys and a girl.

    Ignoring the youngest, who started crying, they began conversing among themselves.

    "This is bad. The youngest has no talent for swordsmanship. I heard his rank in the recent mock exam was only 14th nationwide."

    "Unbelievable. Who would have thought that someone from the Sirius family wouldn''t be ranked first in the nation¡­"

    "It''s worrisome. He isn''t even that smart, and now it seems like hecks physical talent too."

    Looking back, it was simply that the people he waspared to were exceptional.

    His two older brothers and sister were already renowned as geniuses within the Empire.

    "Isn''t the third son of the Sirius family known as ''the ugly duckling''? Everyone else in that family is outstanding, but the youngest is a bitcking. He couldn''t possibly be a child they picked up from somewhere, could he?"

    Even when he overheard someone insulting him, he couldn''t muster the courage to confront them.

    He was terrified that he might actually be a child who was picked up from somewhere.

    Even in the personality test that was trending throughout the Empire, he was the only one with a different result.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om

    "How strange. In our family, everyone except the youngest got the same result."

    "They described us as highly capable but unnecessarily serious,cking flexibility, and rigid."

    "Nonsense. This test is just pseudoscience with no solid evidence, so don''t be swayed by it."

    "Oh, ording to the test results, the youngest has a wide range of shallow interests,cks persistence, and is easily frightened."

    "Just as I thought."

    "Sounds urate."

    Feeling smaller and smaller among his emotionally detached family, Fran had only one thing he could lean on: magic.

    "¡­Alright. In that case, I''ll go to the White Tower."

    He nned to prove himself there.

    To show that while he might be looked down upon in his family, outside, he would be recognized as a genius.

    However, even in the White Tower, which was rumored to have declined, there were three people more talented than him.

    ''I can''t continue like this.''

    The anxiety and fear of bing a nobody consumed him, leading him to make a dangerous decision.

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    ''What if I could turn my entire body into wind, not just a part of it¡­''

    He was fully aware of the risks.

    But the fragile hope drawn by his anxious mind was filled with baseless optimism.

    ¡®If I just seed, it''ll be a jackpot, right?¡¯

    He imagined famous newspapersing for interviews and receiving invitations to all sorts of high society events.

    After that, he''d be the leading mage of the White Tower and, naturally, gain recognition from his family.

    More than anything, that sweet future felt like a cookie ced within arm''s reach.

    All he needed was a single crumb of courage to reach out and grab it.

    ¡°...Huh?¡±

    But idents always strike unexpectedly.

    The moment Fran seeded in transforming his lower body into wind, his magic spiraled out of control.

    ¡°What... what the hell? Damn it!¡±

    Screaming, he struggled to flee the training room but to no avail.

    His legs no longer existed, after all.

    Even his upper body was rapidly turning into wind, scattering into the air.

    ¡°Haah... haah...¡±

    The sensation of his soul being torn apart, shredded into countless fragments.

    A fear that he, as an existence, would be wind and forever wander the world.

    By the time his body was reduced to only the part above his neck, rendering even breathing difficult¡ª

    ¡°...Fran? Fran!¡±

    If Sasha, the Tower Master, hadn''t passed by the hallway at that moment, Fran would have died that day.

    No, more urately, "death" wouldn¡¯t be the right term¡ªannihtion of existence would be.

    After that incident, Fran could no longer use his one and only pride: his unique magic.

    ¡°Whenever I try to use it, my breath quickens, and cold sweat starts pouring.¡±

    Fran disyed his trembling hands with a self-deprecating smile.

    ¡°I''m pretty pathetic, aren''t I?¡±

    To some, it would sound like a privilegedint.

    Born into a well-off family, with remarkable talent¡ªjust a spoiled kid''s grumble.

    ¡°I know my family is full of good people, even if they''re a bit stoic¡­ But¡­ I always feel like I''m drifting alone within the family. What am I supposed to do?¡±

    ¡°...I don¡¯t think it¡¯s pathetic. Everyone has their struggles.¡±

    Though, to be honest, Oscar couldn¡¯t fully empathize.

    He had grown up parentless, scavenging through back alleys for food, until he was discovered by his mentor.

    He seized that stroke of fortune and became a mage.

    Despite the many mages who envied his genius, he overpowered them with skill and won their admiration, eventually rising to the position of Tower Master.

    A prime example of triumph over adversity.

    Given their vastly different upbringings, empathy was naturally difficult.

    ¡°Anyway, to sum it up, you want your family¡¯s recognition.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°And you want to be an outstanding mage, but the trauma from the ident is holding you back.¡±

    ¡°Exactly.¡±

    The fear of being consumed by his own magic.

    That was the very reason Fran couldn¡¯t properly wield the power of the Wind Sovereign.

    Oscar nodded, understanding the root cause.

    ¡®So this was it.¡¯

    The reason he asionally seemed tock confidence or had an excessive need for approval.

    With his curiosity satisfied, Oscar spoke up.

    ¡°But you managed to use it well when fighting that swordsman in the hills, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t me using it. It activated on its own when my life was in danger.¡±

    In other words, he couldn¡¯t consciously control it.

    Oscar pondered briefly before asking,

    ¡°Describe the situation during the ident in more detail. Why did you almost dissipate into wind?¡±

    ¡°...At some point, the magic slipped out of my control and went berserk.¡±

    A quick nce at Fran¡¯s hands revealed they were still trembling slightly.

    Even though he was trying to act nonchnt, recalling the incident alone was terrifying for him.

    ¡®Well, who wouldn¡¯t fear annihtion of existence?¡¯

    Even the most fearsome generals among the demonkind had sobbed like babies in the face of it.

    Fully understanding this, Oscar gently patted Fran''s shoulder.

    ¡°Thanks for sharing your secret with me.¡±

    ¡°Well, you did say you¡¯d believe me.¡±

    Fran muttered as he slightly turned his head.

    ¡°¡­Hearing someone say they need me for the first time¡­ feels kinda nice.¡±

    ¡°Hmm? What did you say?¡±

    ¡°Ah, nothing. Forget it.¡±

    Looking a bit sheepish, Fran quickly changed the subject.

    ¡°So, what do we do now? I¡¯m not confident, but I¡¯ll do whatever you say.¡±

    ¡°First, you need to understand that this is actually a problem moremon among mages than you think.¡±

    ¡°...Seriously?¡±

    ¡°Seriously.¡±

    Greed is always the issue.

    The desire to knock on the doors of higher truths.

    It¡¯s a bomb that every mage carries in their heart.

    ¡°But the solution is surprisingly simple.¡±

    Oscar pointed his index finger at Fran.

    ¡°In essence, your issue stems from ack of magical control, right? Then you just need to address that.¡±

    ¡°...Easier said than done. Isn¡¯t that something determined by innate talent?¡±

    Magical control or perception is often referred to as the sixth sense.

    It¡¯s not something you understand intellectually, but something you instinctively sense.

    Like hearing a sound or seeing something without having to learn it first.

    ¡°Usually, yes. But there¡¯s a way to enhance that ability forcibly.¡±

    Of course, it wasn¡¯t a method just anyone could use.

    Few knew of this method even in the past, and fewer still seeded.

    ¡°¡­What are you doing?¡±

    Tap, tap, tap!

    Fran asked as he watched Oscar suddenly start drawing something on the training room floor.

    ¡°Me? I¡¯m drawing a summoning circle.¡±

    ¡°What are you summoning? Don¡¯t tell me¡­ you¡¯re not asking me to make a pact with a demon or something, right?¡±

    Fran¡¯s face turned pale with fear as Oscar chuckled.

    ¡°Are you nuts? Even if I called them, those demon bastards wouldn¡¯t show up.¡±

    They¡¯d wet themselves and flee just from the scent of his soul.

    ¡°Then¡­ what are you summoning?¡±

    ¡°A spirit.¡±

    Tap, tap!

    Completing the summoning circle, Oscar replied,

    ¡°I¡¯m about to summon a Wind Spirit to embed within your body.¡±

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 Chapter 20

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    Chapter 20: The Ugly Duckling (3)

    Spirit.

    An ancient existence said to be born from the souls dwelling in nature.

    Nowadays, it''s dismissed as mere folklore.

    Such was evident from Fran''s immediate reaction.

    "...A spirit? Isn''t that something from old fairy tales?"

    "Spirits are real. The hard part is just believing in them."

    The primary reason for disbelief?

    Humans can''t see spirits.

    Only a select few humans possess the rare affinity tomune with them.

    ¡®But it''s different for elves, the guardians of nature. They are born with the ability tomunicate with spirits.¡¯

    Thus, elves are the only ones known to wield the power of spirits across the entire continent.

    Fran cast a slightly uneasy nce.

    "This isn''t because I''m scared or anything, but... You''ve done this before, right?"

    "I have. Don''t worry, I''ve even seeded."

    There was a time when he was invited to the elven kingdom.

    During his stay, he yfully tried a spirit-summoning ritual taught by a friend¡ªand to his surprise, it worked.

    Everyone was astonished, iming he was the first human summoner in 118 years.

    ¡®Though, of course, I didn¡¯t actually form a contract.¡¯

    The power of spirits is undeniably efficient and formidable.

    But back then, as an Archmage who had already surpassed human limits, it wasn''t an enticing option.

    ¡®I could handle most things on my own without a spirit''s help.¡¯

    Oscar turned his head to look at Fran.

    ¡®But for this guy, it''s a different story.¡¯

    He¡¯s no Archmage.

    Hisck of control over his immense power, Wind Sovereign, has rendered him unable to use it effectively.

    If he could sessfully integrate a spirit into his body, he¡¯d grow stronger in an instant.

    ¡®The wind spirit could regte Fran¡¯s mana flow for him.¡¯

    Think of it as an automatic control system.

    When Oscar exined this, Fran looked far from thrilled.

    "So¡­ you¡¯re saying you¡¯re gonna imnt a spirit into my body... That¡¯s gonna hurt, right?"

    "..."

    Oscar shot him a cold stare instead of answering.

    Fran forced an awkward smile.

    "Alright, alright. I¡¯ll endure the pain. But, uh, can anyone just summon a spirit?"

    "Not exactly. You need spirit affinity."

    Oscar shrugged and crossed his arms, taking a step back.

    "In other words, you won¡¯t know until you try. So, give it a shot."

    "..."

    Fran, looking visibly tense, stepped up to the summoning circle.

    He closed his eyes and began reciting the summoning chant Oscar had taught him.

    "Spirit of the wind, pure avatar of cleansing, who sweeps away the world¡¯s evil and darkness, I, Fran Sirius, a seeker of truth, humbly request to walk alongside your great power. By the ancient pact, I summon thee to appear before me!"

    "..."

    The silent training room remained undisturbed, except for Oscar''s asional nces.

    "Hm, seems like it didn¡¯t work. You must have no affinity."

    "I could¡¯ve sworn I felt a breeze just now."

    "That was my sigh."

    "Damn it!"

    Fran''s face flushed red with embarrassment as he stomped his foot in frustration.

    "So, what now?"

    "Move aside."

    Oscar gestured for Fran to step back and took his ce in front of the summoning circle.

    Huff...

    Closing his eyes, memories from the past surfaced.

    Back then, it wasn¡¯t a barren training room like this but a colossal world tree, surrounded by endless green.

    "Spirit of the wind."

    With countless elves watching, all he had said was a single, curt phrase:

    "Come to me."

    Whoosh!

    Suddenly, a blinding light erupted from the summoning circle, followed by a fierce windstorm that engulfed the room.

    "Ugh! What the¡ª I can¡¯t see anything!"

    Fran¡¯s voice, faint from the far corner, hinted at his being blown away by the sudden gale.

    Turning his gaze back, Oscar saw a towering figure¡ªeasily over three meters tall¡ªring down at him.

    ¡ªHmm, a human...? It has been 27 years since a humanst summoned us.

    ¡®Yeah, that was mest time, too.¡¯

    With arms crossed, Oscar nonchntly spoke.

    "I want to make a contract. Do we need to draft some kind of agreement?"

    ¡ªNo such formalities are necessary. What matters is the bond between our hearts.

    The massive wind spirit knelt, extending its hand.

    ¡ªHuman, I am Silestin, the highest-level wind spirit. Will you forge a pact of camaraderie with me?

    "Huh? Nah."

    "...?"

    Silestin, utterly taken aback, hadn¡¯t expected such an immediate rejection.

    ¡ªW-Why not?

    "Oh, I forgot to mention."

    Oscar casually gestured behind him, where faint groans of pain echoed.

    "I don¡¯t need a spirit. I just wanted you to fuse with that guy over there."

    The once-majestic Silestin¡¯s face now bore an expression of pure disbelief.

    ¡ªHow dare you?!

    Indeed, Silestin¡¯s fury was justified.

    The winds surged even more violently, threatening to tear Oscar¡¯s garments apart.

    Raising both hands, Oscar calmly tried to cate the spirit.

    "Now, now. Let¡¯s calm down, sticin... or was it Silverstin?"

    ¡ªIt¡¯s Silestin! And how can I calm down in this situation?!

    "Just listen to what I have to say."

    ¡ªNo! I refuse to hear another word!

    ¡®What kind of supreme spirit is this childish?!¡¯

    Annoyance flickered across Oscar¡¯s face as his voice turned icy.

    "...I¡¯ll give you onest chance to calm down."

    ¡ªHa! And if I refuse? What can a mere human do to me?

    "Sphrion of Serenity."

    At the sound of the casually uttered name, the wind stilled, and Silestin¡¯s demeanor became noticeably more cautious.

    Like a child summoned before a parent after mischief, he asked meekly:

    ¡ª¡­Human, how do you know that name?

    "Because I¡¯ve spoken with her."

    Sphrion of Serenity.

    The name of the Spirit King whomands the winds.

    For ordinary people, discovering such a name was nearly impossible.

    Even knowing it, calling upon her was not something easily permitted¡ªshe was a being on the level of a demigod.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om

    Oscar continued:

    "Tell her this: the White mage has returned."

    ¡ªWhat¡­ do you mean by that¡­

    Silestin tried to question further but suddenly trembled as though struck by lightning.

    He then stared at Oscar with a mix of awe and fear, as if seeing a creature entirely beyondprehension.

    ¡ªHuman¡­ Just who are you? For the King to give a directmand¡­

    "Just tell me if it¡¯s possible or not. If it¡¯s not, I¡¯ll figure out another way. I¡¯m short on time."

    ¡ªUgh¡­

    Silestin swallowed a heavy groan and nodded solemnly.

    ¡ªShe has granted permission. However, only a lesser spirit will be provided, and even then, it¡¯s not a contract but a mere transfer of essence.

    "That¡¯ll do."

    Though he wouldn¡¯t be able to form a deeper connection with the spirit for greater power, even this much was more than enough.

    By human standards, a lesser spirit¡¯s power was akin to that of a fourth-level mage.

    It was more than sufficient to manage mana in ce of Fran.

    ¡ªShe also gave this message.

    Silestin added, his voice suddenly adopting an air of gravitas as if mimicking someone else.

    ¡ªDo not forget the ancient covenant.

    "Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll keep my promise."

    Oscar muttered under his breath, recalling his past life.

    ¡®I didn¡¯t forget¡ªit was just that I couldn¡¯t keep it because I died suddenly.¡¯

    Still, he harbored gratitude toward Sphrion.

    Thanks to her, he had saved countless members of the White Tower.

    ¡®I¡¯ll repay you generously, with interest.¡¯

    After organizing his thoughts, Oscar gave a firm nod.

    "I¡¯m done here. You have nothing more to say, right?"

    ¡ªPerhaps¡­ would you consider making a contract with me¡ª

    "Not interested."

    ¡ªUnderstood¡­

    Silestin, now visibly downcast, dissolved into the wind and vanished.

    At the same time, Fran let out a scream.

    "Aaaah! O-Oscar! It feels like something¡¯s crawling inside me¡ªit¡¯s so itchy!"

    "Stop exaggerating. That¡¯s not a bug; it¡¯s the spirit."

    The lesser spirit was probably merging with Fran¡¯s soul¡ªa process described by spirits as ¡°linking hearts.¡±

    Normally, spirit affinity made this easy, but since Francked that, it had to be done forcibly.

    "Huff¡­ Huff¡­"

    Once the link wasplete, Fran copsed onto the private room¡¯s floor.

    Oscar approached and asked:

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    "How do you feel?"

    "How do I feel? Uh¡­ wait a second."

    Fran jumped up, rolled his shoulders a few times, and even did a couple of quick hops.

    His eyes sparkled brighter than ever.

    "I don¡¯t know why, but my body feels lighter!"

    "Of course it does."

    Forming a bond with a spirit typically purifies the body, removing impurities.

    Hearing this, Fran¡¯s face lit up with joy.

    "This is amazing! I feel like my focus has improved too. It used to feel like my head was always in a fog."

    "Brain fog, huh."

    Brain fog, a phenomenon that impairs concentration and memory, often arises from stress-rted conditions.

    ¡®He¡¯s always so carefree; who knew he was under so much stress.¡¯

    Oscar was curious now.

    Fran had already been fairlypetent, but how much more could he achieve at full capacity?

    "Alright then, shall we begin?"

    "Begin? Begin what?"

    "¡­What do you think our goal here is?"

    Oscar pulled a wooden stick from his robes, seemingly from nowhere.

    "You need to train your unique magic, Wind Sovereign, and advance to the fourth level."

    "But as I said, I have trauma associated with that magic¡­"

    "Don¡¯t worry about that,"

    Oscar reassured him with a mischievous smile.

    "It activates automatically when your life¡¯s in danger, doesn¡¯t it?"

    "¡­?"

    There were 15 hours left until noon the next day¡ªjust enough time to turn this fool into a fourth-level mage.

    * * *

    The forest behind the White Tower featured an outdoor training ground near its entrance.

    Already waiting there, Gran''s knight protector, Lazli, cautiously asked:

    "Master, how much force should I use in today¡¯s duel?"

    "Don¡¯t hold back. Fight with everything you¡¯ve got."

    "¡­Pardon?"

    "By not using sword aura, I¡¯ve already shown restraint. What more do you expect?"

    Gran shook his head.

    "If that fool fails to impress me, then it¡¯s over. It¡¯ll just prove he¡¯s a loudmouth full of empty boasts."

    "Understood."

    Bowing, Lazli prepared for theing match.

    Shortly after, two mages approached from a distance.

    "Good morning, Deputy Tower Master,"

    Gran greeted.

    "Indeed, the breeze feels nice today¡ªa great day to be outside,"

    Replied the Deputy with a warm smile.

    Gran¡¯s eyes sharpened.

    "By being here, may I take it you¡¯ve approved the terms of this arrangement?"

    "After much deliberation, yes, I¡¯ve decided to ept."

    The Deputy nced at Oscar briefly.

    "The developer of the cure was insistent to a fault."

    Of course, he refrained from mentioning how Elder Fidelina had protested vehemently, and Elder Maxim was likely still holding her back.

    "Understood. Then, I won¡¯t ask any further questions. This is the knight who will represent me in today¡¯s duel."

    "Level 5 Knight, Lazli Morgan."

    "Level 2 Mage, Oscar Crusian."

    "Now, let me exin the rules of the duel."

    Gran took out two nes and began listing the conditions.

    "Each of you will wear one of these nes during the duel. The first to seize their opponent¡¯s ne wins. It¡¯s a simple game."

    "......"

    A ne-stealing duel.

    It was a rather traditional method.

    "If no winner is determined within five minutes, we will concede defeat."

    This was a considerate gesture, given the difference in skill levels.

    The Deputy-Tower Master nced at Oscar, as if to ask if this was eptable.

    "That¡¯s fine."

    Oscar nodded lightly, his hands sped behind his back.

    "Let¡¯s not drag this out any longer. We can start right away."

    "Are you sure you want to fight in that outfit? It doesn¡¯t seem very suitable forbat."

    Oscar was currently dressed in the flowing robes of the White Tower mages.

    Though the robe offered decent flexibility, it was far from the practicality of battle armor.

    "Oh, it¡¯s fine."

    Oscar smiled brightly and stepped aside.

    "After all, I won¡¯t be the one fighting."

    "......What?"

    Gran Sirius, about to question the statement, suddenly fell silent.

    Behind Oscar, a figure approached, wearing the White Tower¡¯sbat attire.

    Gran narrowed his eyes at Oscar.

    "What is the meaning of this?"

    "You asked me to prove my capabilities. You didn¡¯t specify that I had to fight personally."

    Oscar shrugged and gave the approaching figure a pat on the back.

    "This one here will demonstrate my abilities. I¡¯ve been teaching him some tricks since yesterday."

    "You think you could teach him anything meaningful in less than a day?"

    Gran¡¯s voice sharpened slightly, warning clear.

    "If you¡¯re sending Fran out expecting me to go easy on him, thinking I¡¯ll take it lightly..."

    "That¡¯s not it. I¡¯m only sending him out because I genuinely believe he has a high chance of winning."

    Oscar cut off his opponent¡¯s words, making a bold deration.

    "Surely, a Level 4 Mage would stand a better chance than a Level 2 Mage."

    "......Level 4? But just yesterday¡ª"

    "He was Level 3, yes. If I aim to turn him into a standout mage within two years, this level of growth is the bare minimum."

    "......"

    Gran fell silent for a moment, then slowly nodded.

    "It seems I made a fatal error by not specifying that you must fight personally. As a merchant, that¡¯s an unforgivable mistake. Naturally, I¡¯ll bear the consequences."

    "Thank you for your understanding."

    "There¡¯s no need for thanks."

    Gran seated himself in the spectator area, crossing his legs arrogantly.

    "Words from a merchant¡¯s mouth must carry more weight than gold."

    He then spoke in a loud voice for all to hear.

    "Lazli."

    "Yes, my lord."

    "Do not hold back under any circumstances. Should you disobey, you¡¯ll face severe punishment."

    "Understood."

    The warning seemed trivial, but its impact was significant.

    Fran¡¯s body visibly tensed.

    ¡®This isn¡¯t good.¡¯

    Oscar noticed and approached Fran, swinging his hand.

    Smack!

    The sudden p on his back left Fran staring at Oscar in disbelief.

    "What was that for?"

    "Rx a bit. Feeling better now?"

    "As if a p could¡ªwait, huh?"

    Fran¡¯s eyes widened.

    His stiff body felt notably lighter.

    "I just eased your tense muscles and magic flow. Think of it as a kind of massage."

    "Where did you even learn that?"

    "Learn? It¡¯s just natural talent."

    "Right, my mistake for asking. Fine, you¡¯re amazing."

    "And you¡¯re the talented mage I want to keep by my side. So don¡¯t be afraid."

    Fran looked stunned.

    In the years they¡¯d been together, Oscar had never spoken so highly of anyone.

    Maybe that¡¯s why the confidence he had lost began to return, little by little.

    "Still... he¡¯s a Level 5 Knight."

    A formidable opponent, the likes of which Fran had never encountered in his life.

    Facing such an adversary, it would be stranger not to be nervous.

    "Hmm. I guess there¡¯s no other choice. Come here for a second."

    Oscar whispered a detailed strategy into Fran¡¯s ear for a while.

    "If you follow this n, you¡¯ll definitely win."

    The idea of a Level 4 Mage defeating a Level 5 Knight was absurd.

    Under normal circumstances, Fran would have rejected it outright as impossible.

    But today was different.

    "...Alright. I¡¯ll give it a try."

    Fran, with a determined expression, stepped onto the arena.

    [Trantor - ra]

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 Chapter 21

    [Trantor - ra]

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    Chapter 21: The Ugly Duckling (4)

    Fran stepped onto the sparring ground and greeted his opponent with a slight nod.

    "It''s been a while, Sir Lazli."

    "It has indeed, Young Master,"

    Lazli replied, offering a faint smile and a gaze as warm as the sun.

    Though Fran was the lord¡¯s younger brother, they had once been childhoodpanions, spending countless days ying together.

    "I won''t be holding back."

    "...Understood."

    With that, their greetings came to an end.

    They were no longerrades, but adversaries facing each other on the sparring ground.

    ¡®The Lazli I know is...¡¯

    Fran¡¯s mind raced as he analyzed his opponent.

    A man so bound by principles that his presence could suffocate those around him.

    His devotion to fulfilling his master¡¯s orders, even at the cost of his own life, made him a model knight.

    Fran swallowed hard, tension evident on his face.

    ¡®In most duels, the superior usually gives the weaker party three free attacks as a courtesy¡­ But expecting that from such a rigid rule-follower is a stretch.¡¯

    Fran quickly estimated the distance between them.

    ¡®Five meters.¡¯

    First priority: widen the gap.

    "Begin."

    The word barely left Gram''s lips when Fran shot backward with a gust of wind.

    Thud!

    Just before stepping out of bounds, Frannded on the edge of the sparring ground, his eyes locked on Lazli.

    ¡®I¡¯ve extended the distance to twenty meters. Perfect.¡¯

    Naturally, the closer the distance, the greater his disadvantage.

    As a newly advanced Level 4 mage, there was no way he could match a Level 5 knight in closebat.

    The best course of action was to decide the match before Lazli could close the gap.

    "Here Ie."

    Lazli murmured softly, lowering his sword.

    Mana began to rise around him, and the very atmosphere shifted.

    His aura transformed into that of a predator, ready to tear its prey apart.

    "....."

    For a moment, the air above the sparring ground seemed heavier, like the weight of a storm cloud pressing down.

    The pressure of a Level 5 enhancement-type knight was palpable.

    Fran''s body began to tremble as if it had a will of its own.

    ¡®Was Sir Lazli always this imposing?¡¯

    No, it was just his overwhelming presence.

    In truth, Fran was slightly taller.

    ¡®Damn it, my body won¡¯t move.¡¯

    He had told himself countless times not to be afraid.

    But standing there now, he felt paralyzed, like a mouse frozen before a snake.

    His mind was overwhelmed by a singr thought: fear.

    ¡®Damn it.¡¯

    The instinct to flee surged within him.

    After all, he had always been a coward, always running away.

    "......."

    And it wouldn¡¯t be hard to run now.

    Just one misstep, a single feigned mistake, and he could retreat, escaping this fear and pressure in an instant.

    ¡®But.¡¯

    That wouldn¡¯t change anything.

    Fran knew better than anyone that running only led to relentless regret.

    "......Tch."

    He let out a bitter chuckle.

    The fiery pain in his back, from the blow he¡¯d received before stepping into the sparring ground, still lingered.

    ¡®How hard did he hit me?¡¯

    Yet, oddly enough, it snapped him back to his senses.

    ¡®Let¡¯s do this.¡¯

    Even if he lost or failed spectacrly, he resolved not to run anymore.

    Determination shed in Fran¡¯s eyes as he bit down on his lip.

    The taste of blood filled his mouth, sharp and grounding.

    He felt control returning to his body.

    "Wind de."

    sh!

    Two sharp des of wind hurtled toward Lazli.

    "¡­..!"

    <em>ng! ng!</em>

    Lazli instinctively deflected them, his eyes narrowing slightly.

    ¡®¡­Dual casting? More than that, he dispersed my aura?¡¯

    A faint smile crossed Lazli¡¯s lips.

    ¡®You¡¯ve certainly grown, Young Master.¡¯

    He was proud, impressed even.

    But he had no intention of going easy.

    A knight¡¯s duty to his master was absolute.

    "Hup!"

    ng! ng!

    Lazli began moving swiftly, deflecting the twin wind des as they came at him from impossible angles.

    ¡®This feels like facing the sword-controlling techniques of the masters from the Eastern Lands.¡¯

    Of course, these wind des were far from the real thing¡ªslower, cruder, less precise.

    But for a Level 4 mage to replicate even a semnce of that technique was extraordinary.

    ¡®Still, enough observing.¡¯

    ng!

    With a deft maneuver, Lazli evaded both des and charged toward Fran.

    The wind des pursued but couldn¡¯t match his speed.

    Recognizing this, Fran dispersed the wind des and quickly wove a new spell.

    ¡ºGust Hand.¡»

    A massive hand of wind rose from the ground, crashing down toward Lazli to pin him.

    The spell had enough force to crush an ordinary person.

    Fwoosh!

    But Lazli tore through it with ease, elerating once more.

    ¡®Of course, powerful but clumsy spells won¡¯t work against him.¡¯

    Fran rapidly adapted his strategy.

    ¡ºWild Leaf.¡»

    A hundred razor-sharp wind-blown leaves filled the air. Each one gleamed with deadly precision.

    Lazli analyzed the setup as he charged.

    ¡®Trying to halt my advance, are you?¡¯

    Lazli gripped his sword tightly, fixing the leaves'' positions in his mind.

    ¡®It won¡¯t be enough, Young Master.¡¯

    Whoosh!

    Without hesitation, Lazli plunged into the storm of deadly leaves.

    With every swing of his sword, sparks of light scattered, shredding the leaves as he advanced.

    "Ugh!"

    Fran grimaced as Lazli closed in.

    The distance between them had shrunk to just seven meters.

    With Lazli¡¯s speed, Fran had time to cast only one more spell.

    "Incorrect."

    As if reading his thoughts, Lazli¡¯s cold, piercing gaze locked onto Fran.

    [Trantor - ra]

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    "The duel is over."

    He wouldn¡¯t give Fran another chance.

    Lazli, now fully enhancing his body with magic, surged forward with even greater speed.

    "......."

    Fran¡¯s eyes widened in shock.

    Whoosh!

    In the blink of an eye, Lazli closed the gap and reached out toward the pendant around Fran¡¯s neck.

    Hwaaak!

    ¨CFrom now on, listen carefully to what I¡¯m about to say.

    Oscar''s whisper right before the match echoes through my mind.

    ¨CThough I¡¯ve imnted the Spirit of the Wind in you to aid your magic control, you¡¯re still not at the point where you can freely turn your body into wind. You haven¡¯t fully ovee your trauma yet.

    ¡­¡­¡­Does that mean I can only lose?

    ¨COf course not. From what I¡¯ve observed, Wind Sovereign is an absolutely broken magic. The ability to transform parts of your body into wind is incredible. Physical attacks won¡¯t work on you, and unless your opponent can use magic or sword energy, they won¡¯t even be able to touch you.

    But what intrigued Oscar the most about Wind Sovereign was something entirely different.

    ¨CIntegration. That¡¯s where its true absurdity lies. No matter what clothes you wear, no matter what you hold, as long as it¡¯s in contact with your body, you can turn it into wind as well. That¡¯s the real cheat.

    In any match, both sides keep their trump cards hidden until the end.

    The opponent will likely reveal something at thest moment, perhaps dramatically increasing their speed.

    That will be the turning point.

    The moment the opponent lets their guard down, caught in the trap of thinking they¡¯ve won.

    ¨CYour ne will turn into wind and disappear.

    Whoosh!

    When Lazli¡¯s hand grabbed at the ne¡ª

    ¡°¡­!¡±

    What his hand grasped was nothing but a soft breeze.

    Instead, the ne around his neck was ripped away.

    It goes without saying that the one holding it was Fran¡¯s pale hand.

    * * *

    Right before the match began, the eyes of Gran Sirius, seated in the spectators'' stand, wereplicated.

    ¡®¡­So, he¡¯s be a Level 4 Mage after all. What on earth did that Oscar guy do in just one night?¡¯

    Gran nced sideways at him and asked.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t use some forbidden magic to force his growth, did you?¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re referring to Fran, rest assured. The method was entirely safe and sound.¡±

    ¡°¡­Safe, huh.¡±n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

    Gran smirked cynically and turned his attention back to the imminent match.

    He watched every spell Fran cast with meticulous focus.

    ¡®Not bad.¡¯

    He¡¯s grown a lot.

    The kid who used to cry and sniffle while showing off the basics of magic had matured.

    Now he wielded a dazzling array of spells, fighting evenly against a knight like Lazli.

    ¡®But that¡¯s all there is.¡¯

    Fran, his younger brother, was fundamentally unsuited to the life of a mage.

    It wasn¡¯t a matter of talent but of temperament.

    ¡®Your weakness, your overflowingpassion¡ªthose traits will consume you one day.¡¯

    That might work for a theoretical mage, but not for a battle mage.

    Gran couldn¡¯t allow it.

    His brother wasn¡¯t cut out for the battlefield.

    ¡®All you¡¯ll find there are scars and regret. Or worse¡­ you might not even survive to regret anything.¡¯

    Seeing such a bleak future for Fran, how could he not pull him back?

    ¡®It¡¯d be better for you to run a business.¡¯

    A curator of a grand gallery, perhaps¡ªthat would maintain the family¡¯s dignity.

    After all, Fran had the best eye for fine art in the family.

    He wouldn¡¯t get hurt or cause the family undue worry in such a career.

    ¡®And he wouldn¡¯t end up consumed by his magic again.¡¯

    As these fleeting thoughts passed, the match neared its conclusion.

    The distance between the two contestants: a mere 12 meters.

    Knowing how fast Lazli could move, Gran was certain.

    ¡®It¡¯s over.¡¯

    His knight wouldn¡¯t give Fran the chance to finish his final spell.

    He would carry out Gran¡¯s orders to crush him thoroughly.

    And that prediction came true.

    ¡°The duel is over.¡±

    At thest moment, Lazli revealed his hidden speed, closing in on Fran before he could react.

    And yet¡ª

    Whoosh!

    When Lazli attempted to snatch Fran¡¯s ne¡ª

    ¡°¡­!¡±

    Fran had turned his ne into wind and, in a twist, ripped off Lazli¡¯s ne instead.

    ¡°Well, it seems we have a winner,¡±

    Remarked the Deputy Tower Master, breaking the silence.

    He turned to Gran, who had risen from his seat, and asked,

    ¡°Do you ept the oue?¡±

    ¡°¡­.¡±

    Gran didn¡¯t respond immediately, his eyes flickering with disbelief.

    ¡®That magic¡­¡¯

    Fran¡¯s peculiar spell, the one that could transform parts of his body into wind, must have been a profound source of trauma.

    ¡®I was told he¡¯d never use it again.¡¯

    That¡¯s what the renowned mage healer, Vesalius Silva, had said.

    For 99% of mages who faced annihtion, the fear remained insurmountable.

    ¡®Which means¡­¡¯

    Oscar Crucian.

    He must have yed a pivotal role in helping Fran confront and ovee that fear.

    After a brief pause, Gran nodded slowly.

    ¡°¡­I acknowledge the loss.¡±

    Conceding gracefully, he turned to Oscar.

    ¡°Should I congratte you? Looks like you¡¯ll have to put up with that foolish kid for another two years.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t feel too bad. I¡¯ll take good care of Fran.¡±

    ¡°¡­Not like I¡¯ll miss him. I¡¯ve got a packed schedule ahead, so I¡¯ll be taking my leave.¡±

    As he walked out of the arena, he passed by Fran, who hesitated for a moment.

    He paused briefly and muttered:

    ¡°You¡¯ve grown a little.¡±

    ¡°¡­What?¡±

    ¡°If you didn¡¯t hear, forget it.¡±

    Fran stared after his brother¡¯s retreating figure for a long time.

    From afar, Oscar chuckled to himself.

    ¡°What a funny guy. Pretending not to have heard him.¡±

    If Fran really hadn¡¯t heard, his eyes wouldn¡¯t be curved into those crescent shapes, brimming with joy.

    * * *

    Gran Sirius stepped into the back seat of a luxurious ck sedan as the chauffeur opened the door.

    A middle-aged man already seated there, reading a newspaper, spoke without lifting his gaze.

    ¡°You¡¯re alone?¡±

    ¡°It turned out that way.¡±

    Still dazed by the result, Gran let out a hollowugh.

    ¡°You must be disappointed. You carved out time in your busy schedule just to see the youngest.¡±

    ¡°Hmph.¡±

    Adam Sirius, head of the Sirius Trading Company and patriarch of the Sirius family, cleared his throat.

    ¡°¡­I just dropped by since I had some spare time. Don¡¯t read too much into it. Let¡¯s go.¡±

    With a low hum, the car glided smoothly along the road.

    After a moment of watching the scenery pass by, Gran spoke.

    ¡°You remember, don¡¯t you? When some noble from the capital called Fran an ugly duckling?¡±

    The thoughtless noble had made a joke about Fran¡¯s perceived inferiority to his siblings.

    Their father had been furious, cutting off all supplies to the noble¡¯s estate until the man begged for forgiveness.

    Fran never found out.

    [TL/N: Kinda d they avoided the sad broken merchant family trope.]

    ¡°Why bring that up now?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m starting to think maybe Fran isn¡¯t a duckling, but a gosling.¡±

    ¡°¡­A goose? Not a swan?¡±

    ¡°Yes. A goose.¡±

    Gran chuckled as he gazed at the drifting clouds.

    ¡°Who knows, maybe in two years, he¡¯ll turn into a goose thatys golden eggs.¡±

    With Oscar Crucian by his side, Gran couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that everything the man predicted woulde true.

    ¡®Two years to be a top-tier mage. Five years to restore the White Tower¡¯s former glory.¡¯

    A dry smile crossed his lips as Gran decided he¡¯d invest in the White Tower.

    ¡®¡­Unlikely as it may be, it doesn¡¯t hurt to make connections early.¡¯

    Recognizing untapped potential and investing in it was an essential skill for any merchant.

    [Trantor - ra]

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 Chapter 22

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    Chapter 22: The Star Instructor, Oscar (1)

    The secluded training chamber of the White Tower, once a dungeon used to imprison criminals centuries ago.

    The entrance was so dark it felt like ghosts of the dead prisoners might leap out at any moment.

    ¡°...So.¡±

    Fran, wearing a deeply troubled expression, spoke.

    ¡°That¡¯s the entrance, right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re saying I have to go in there?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    Indeed, Fran, who had recently advanced to Level 4, was sentenced to a grueling 30 days of closed-door training.

    Now, as he stood before the ominous entrance, he couldn¡¯t help but wonder how things hade to this.

    ¡°Wait, doesn¡¯t this seem weird? Usually, people do closed-door training either because they volunteer or because they¡¯ve done something wrong and are being punished. I¡¯m neither!¡±

    ¡°But the Deputy Tower Master personally ordered it. It shows how much they believe in your potential.¡±

    ¡°...Is that so?¡±

    ¡°Exactly.¡±

    Oscar lied effortlessly, not even bothering to wet his lips.

    If Fran found out it was Oscar who had secretly requested the training, he¡¯d likely refuse outright.

    ¡°Think positively. Now that you¡¯ve hit Level 4, you needed some time to organize your newfound insights, right?¡±

    ¡°Well... yeah, but... Ah, whatever. Fine, I¡¯ll go.¡±

    ¡°Safe travels.¡±

    Oscar waved him off enthusiastically as Fran begrudgingly stepped into the training chamber.

    By the time they met again, Fran would likely be a formidable Level 4 mage.

    ¡®He¡¯ll thank meter for this,¡¯

    Oscar thought with a smile as he left the basement and headed straight to the Deputy Tower Master¡¯s office.

    ¡°I heard you called for me.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I have a favor to ask. Did Fran go in smoothly?¡±

    ¡°He made a fuss about not wanting to, but he went in.¡±

    ¡°Haha!¡±

    The Deputy Tower Masterughed heartily, as if picturing the scene.

    After a good chuckle, he sipped his tea and continued.

    ¡°There¡¯s some good news this morning. We received a letter from the Sirius Trading Company. They¡¯ve offered us free ess to their distributionwork.¡±

    ¡°...They¡¯re offering it for free?¡±

    The Sirius Trading Company, the continent¡¯s top trading firm, boasted the best logisticswork.

    Even paying a hefty sum for ess would¡¯ve been well worth it, yet they were offering it for free.

    Of course, Oscar wasn¡¯t naive enough to believe in pure altruism.

    ¡®They¡¯ve calcted the benefits. Sharing theirwork doesn¡¯t cost them much, but the value will be immeasurable if the White Tower revives as we hope.

    In short, Sirius had nothing to lose from this investment.

    ¡®Their intentions are obvious, but I don¡¯t mind.¡¯

    This was like gaining wings with ns to enter the potion market soon.

    A mutually beneficial arrangement, indeed.

    ¡°That¡¯s certainly great news. Is your request rted to this?¡±

    ¡°Oh, no.¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master shook his head, smiling warmly.

    ¡°Oscar, would you be interested in taking on a teaching role?¡±

    ¡°...Teaching?¡±

    Oscar blinked at the unexpected proposal.

    Sensing his confusion, the Deputy Tower Master borated.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t a sudden decision. I¡¯ve considered it for a long time¡ªever since I read your academy thesis, The Application and Advanced Study of Basic Magic.¡±

    It was one of young Oscar¡¯s many papers and the foundation for hister work, A Reinterpretation of Basic Magic.

    ¡°However, understanding something and teaching it effectively are entirely different skills, so I held off on the idea until now.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡±

    Oscar let out a soft exmation as realization dawned.

    ¡°So that¡¯s why...¡±

    ¡°Exactly. Recently, you¡¯ve proven yourself not only as a capable mage but also as an exceptional leader.¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master referred to Oscar¡¯s efforts in convincing the senior mages to coborate on potion development and mentoring Fran to Level 4.

    ¡°You understand the importance of basic magic better than anyone, and you¡¯ve shown both empathy and leadership. If someone like you were to teach a ss on basic magic, it would greatly enhance the skills of our mages. What do you think?¡±

    ¡°I could do it, but...¡±

    Oscar tilted his head in puzzlement.

    ¡®It doesn¡¯t add up. Shouldn¡¯t they want me to focus solely on the potion division for now?¡¯

    As a Tower leader, maximizing this golden opportunity in the potion market should be the priority.

    ¡®The Deputy Tower Master isn¡¯t one to make foolish decisions. So, why this sudden teaching proposal?¡¯

    Oscar concluded that there was more to the story.

    ¡°Is there a specific reason why the White Tower¡¯s mages need to grow stronger?¡±

    ¡°...Ha. Sometimes being too perceptive is troublesome.¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master chuckled, clearly impressed, before asking,

    ¡°Oscar, have you heard of the Night of the Magic?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I have.¡±

    The Night of the Magic was a gathering of mages from all the Towers, intended to promote skill development and camaraderie.

    Centuries ago, the emperor who initiated it had hoped to strengthen bonds between the Towers.

    However...

    ¡®That was never going to work.¡¯

    Instead, the event devolved into fierce rivalries, leading to its cancetion after only a few years.

    ¡®But if it¡¯s being brought up now...¡¯

    Oscar¡¯s eyes sparkled with realization.

    ¡°Could it be that His Majesty intends to revive the Night of the Magic?¡±

    ¡°Correct. It hasn¡¯t been officially announced yet, but details will be made public once the new year begins.¡±

    Atst, the pieces clicked into ce, and Oscar understood why the teaching offer had been made.

    ¡°I see. Now it makes sense why you want me to take on this role.¡±

    ¡°I hope my concerns prove unwarranted, but I can¡¯t help being wary of the ck Tower.¡±

    The ck Tower, a rising force with remarkable achievements in recent years, was eager to im a spot among the Four Great Towers.

    ¡®To them, we¡¯re a thorn in their side.¡¯

    Unlike the White Tower, which hadnguished at the bottom for over a decade.

    Yet, it still clings to its position as one of the Four Great Towers, resting solely on past glory.

    It must be infuriating for them.

    He thought the same.

    They''ll likelye at the tower head-on when the Night of the Magic begins.

    They¡¯ll want to prove they¡¯re better than the White Tower and take away the title of one of the Four Great Towers.

    ¡®So, you want to improve the foundational skills of our mages.¡¯

    And the person chosen for that task was none other than himself.

    Finally grasping the full picture, Oscar didn¡¯t hesitate for a moment.

    ¡°I¡¯ll do it.¡±

    The reason he epted the offer was simple.

    Because he¡¯d rather die than watch the White Tower lose to the likes of the ck Tower.

    [Trantor - ra]

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    * * *

    The next day, a notice appeared on the bulletin board of the White Tower.

    [Special Lecture Announcement]

    - Eligibility: mages of the White Tower

    - Lecture Topic: Reinterpreting Basic Magic

    - Time: Mondays and Thursdays, 09:00¨C15:00

    - Location: Main Building, 36th Floor, Lecture Hall 4

    The gathered mages murmured among themselves.

    ¡°A special lecture at this time? That¡¯s unusual.¡±

    ¡°Reinterpreting basic magic? Sounds like something for the Level 3 rookies.¡±

    ¡°Well, the Tower¡¯s finances have improvedtely. Maybe they¡¯re finally focusing on nurturing the next generation.¡±

    ¡°If that¡¯s the case, they might¡¯ve invited some renowned instructor from outside.¡±

    Most who enter the Tower after graduating from the Academy are Level 3.

    It made sense to invest in them since their growth would strengthen the Tower¡¯s foundation.

    However, mid-level mages of Level 4 or higher quickly lost interest after reading the notice.

    ¡°If it¡¯s about basic magic, it doesn¡¯t seem like something for me.¡±

    ¡°Agreed. Why would a Level 4 need to relearn basic magic?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m already swamped brewing potions and running errands. Who¡¯s got time for lectures?¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t they invest in us mid-level mages too?¡±

    The Level 3 mages cautiously moved in as they left the bulletin board.

    Their reactions were different¡ªthese were people desperate to break through the wall of Level 4.

    ¡°Reinterpreting basic magic¡­ Does that mean they¡¯ll teach us magic we can use right now?¡±

    ¡°Probably. The White Tower¡¯s basic magic has always been weak, so this is good timing.¡±

    ¡°Whatever it is, it¡¯ll be better than training alone.¡±

    And so, days passed, with the junior mages harboring high expectations.

    * * *

    The 36th floor of the Tower was often called the Campus.

    It was an entire floor designed like an academy,plete with a main and annex building, a training field, and even a decent walking path¡ªnot as grand as the 10th floor, but still impressive.

    This floor, without windows, used artificial sunlight, moonlight, and starlight on the ceiling to distinguish day from night.

    Today, a lecture was to be held in Lecture Hall 4 of the main building.

    A peculiar lecture with a 100% attendance rate of Level 3 mages.

    ¡°Wow, all familiar faces. I thought some of you had died.¡±

    ¡°Mages, you know? Always busy with personal research or training.¡±

    ¡°Still, more people showed up than I expected.¡±

    ¡°I counted 32. Every junior mage in the White Tower, except for one, is here.¡±

    Hearing that only one was absent, everyone naturally thought of the same person.

    Oscar Crucian.

    That proud genius hadn¡¯t even shown his face here.

    ¡°Why lump him with us? He¡¯s still just a Level 2.¡±

    ¡°Calling him a senior feels wrong. Why care if that insufferable guy shows up or not?¡±

    ¡°I heard his personality¡¯s softenedtely, though.¡±

    ¡°You believe that nonsense? Enough gossip. Let¡¯s guess who the lecturer might be.¡±

    ¡°They say the Deputy Tower Master invited them personally. Could it be true?¡±

    ¡°Probably. The Tower made a fortune recently selling that flu remedy.¡±

    The mages, who rarely interacted, now chatted freely.

    Though no one said it aloud, they all shared the same frustration, stuck at the barrier of Level 4.

    In such circumstances, a special lecture felt like a much-needed rain after a drought.

    ¡°Honestly, am I the only one excited this is happening in the main hall?¡±

    ¡°Probably everyone here is. This hall used to host seminars even the royal family attended.¡±

    ¡°...Then, maybe the lecturer is someone truly impressive?¡±

    Just as the excited mages whispered fervently, a mocking voice rang out from the topmost seat of the lecture hall.

    ¡°Look at you all, getting worked up over nothing.¡±

    A boy with golden hair and a stature small enough to make you doubt his age sneered down at them.

    ¡°If they were serious about investing in us, they wouldn¡¯t be offering a lecture on Reinterpreting Basic Magic. They¡¯d be teaching something like Understanding Mana Control or Design and Application of Mana Circuits, like the other Great Towers do.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that going too far?¡±

    ¡°Right? Talk like that, and people might think you¡¯re from another Tower.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t you read the room on a good day like this?¡±

    ¡°...Tch.¡±

    Just as Damian, shaking his head, prepared to deliver another (in his mind) cutting remark¡ª

    ¡°Enough chit-chat.¡±

    A t, emotionless voice silenced the room.

    It wasn¡¯t just a figure of speech.

    The rustling wind outside the windows, the sound of pens being readied, and even the slight scraping of chairs¡ªall noise ceased as if cut away by scissors.

    "......?" n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    "......!"

    It was an eerie, almost mystical experience, as if someone had surgically removed their sense of hearing.

    In that absolute silence, only one voice resonated clearly in their ears.

    ¡°Nice to meet you.¡±

    A man ascended the tform, his steps calm and unhurried.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be your lecturer for Reinterpreting Basic Magic.¡±

    He scanned the room with a brief nce before finishing his introduction.

    ¡°I¡¯m Oscar Crucian.¡±

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 Chapter 23

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    Chapter 23: The Star Instructor, Oscar (2)

    In the stunned silence of the lecture hall, bound by the spell, the students'' minds raced as fast as their wide-open eyes.

    ¡®A spell that blocks all sound in the area? Could it be ¡ºSilence¡»?¡¯

    ¡®If it¡¯s another spell, then... does that mean a mere Level 2 mage created a simr spell?!¡¯

    ¡®...Unbelievable. It''s more usible that he just cast ¡ºSilence¡».¡¯

    The man standing at the podium made them feel the weight of his presence anew, his overwhelming skill undeniable despite his supposedly lower level.

    Oscar Crucian.

    A man once courted by every magic tower in the world, someone countless archmages had wished to take on as their apprentice.

    The greatest genius in history, they said¡ªa genius among geniuses.

    "...Perhaps,"

    He finally spoke, eyes briefly scanning the attendance sheet.

    His voice was calm and gentle, carrying an inexplicable persuasiveness.

    "Some of you might be disappointed that I¡¯m your lecturer."

    Nods followed.

    The students couldn¡¯t make any sound, but their thoughts were clear: they had expected a high-ranking mage, maybe at least an intermediate one, as their instructor.

    ¡®Sure, he was once called a genius... but that¡¯s in the past.¡¯

    ¡®Even if he¡¯s a senior, isn¡¯t it a bit much for a mage weaker than us to be our lecturer?¡¯

    Seeing their conflicted expressions, Oscar spoke the words they were eager to hear.

    "If my ss doesn¡¯t meet your expectations, you¡¯re free not to attend. You¡¯re no longer academy students under your professors'' control."

    The students¡¯ faces brightened.

    Contrary to the rumors, he seemed to make quite reasonable decisions.

    But Oscar wasn¡¯t done yet.

    From his pocket, he pulled out an hourss and ced it on the podium.

    "However, there¡¯s one condition."

    The soft thunk of the hourss hitting the desk was the only sound.

    "Just as aging doesn¡¯t make one an adult, graduating from the academy and joining the magic tower doesn¡¯t make one a true mage. You need skills to match the title."

    "...?"

    "Proving your skill is simple. Just say you won¡¯t attend my ss. You have ten minutes."

    With that, he flipped the hourss.

    The grains of sand began to fall, slowly but steadily.

    ¡®...¡¯

    ¡®...¡¯

    Some students opened their mouths in disbelief, while others red silently in frustration.

    ¡®Is he insane?¡¯

    ¡®...This is basically forcing us to stay.¡¯

    ¡®At least lift the spell so we can speak.¡¯

    But a few perceptive mages caught on, their eyes gleaming with realization.

    ¡®Ah... this is a test.¡¯

    ¡®He''s a Level 2 mage. I don¡¯t know the principle behind this spell, but¡­¡¯

    ¡®It shouldn¡¯t be beyond our ability to break.¡¯

    ¡®If we can¡¯t undo the spell and speak for ourselves, he¡¯s telling us to shut up and take the ss.¡¯

    Quickly understanding the situation, the mages began analyzing the spell, each employing their unique approaches to decipher the¡ºSound Binding¡»spell.

    ¡®Let¡¯s see what you¡¯ve got.¡¯

    Oscar crossed his legs and leisurely observed his students.

    ¡®I deliberately left weak points in the spell¡¯s structure, but that doesn¡¯t make it easy to break.¡¯

    Frankly, a Level 3 mage with no real talent wouldn¡¯t stand a chance of undoing it by luck alone.

    If anyone could break this spell on their own, they would be considered at least a prodigy.

    "..."

    However, as the hourss neared its end, no one had seeded.

    Oscar, realizing the current state of the tower¡¯s mages, let out a bitter chuckle.

    ¡®They¡¯ve got a long way to go.¡¯

    Just as he thought so¡ª

    "I-I did it!"

    A voice finally broke through.

    A boy raised both hands in triumph.

    His small frame was noticeably shorter than his peers.

    Oscar¡¯s eyes sparkled as he immediately recognized him.

    "Damian Proud. The only son of the Proud Count¡¯s household, one of the most prestigious mage families.¡¯

    "Congrattions."

    "Hmph. It was so easy I had to slow down to make it interesting."

    "Oh, impressive."

    Oscar replied dryly, snapping his fingers.

    Snap!

    The tightly bound spell unraveled, and sound returned to the world.

    "Huh? I can hear again."

    "Wait, is the time up?"

    "Darn it! I was almost there!"

    The lecture hall buzzed with activity, but Oscar stood up, silencing the room with his presence alone.

    "Quiet, everyone."

    Despite using no magic, the room fell silent as if bymand.

    In just ten minutes, this supposedly low-level mage had seized control of the room.

    "The only one to pass the test is Damian Proud."

    "He really broke the spell?"

    "I figured. Annoying as he is, the guy¡¯s got skill."

    Damian brushed off their envious stares and said,

    "So, I passed. I don¡¯t have to attend your ss anymore, right?"

    "Of course. Do as you like."

    "..."

    But now, being dismissed so easily left an unexpected sense of regret.

    ¡®...If this is just the introduction, how advanced will the actual lectures be?¡¯

    Where else could a beginner mage get hands-on experience with spell structures of this caliber?

    Moreover, the problem-solving process had been incredibly engaging.

    For once, he had immersed himself fully in magic, free from distractions.

    But having already dered he wouldn¡¯t attend, it felt awkward to take it back now.

    Watching Damian¡¯s conflicted expression, Oscar smirked.

    "Still, as the sole person to pass, you deserve a reward. I¡¯ll teach you a spell. Come up to the podium."

    "...A spell?"

    Even Damian couldn¡¯t help but perk up his ears at that.

    After all, he¡¯d just experienced firsthand how unique Oscar¡¯s magic could be.

    "Ahem, this is just a fair reward for my effort..."

    Pretending to be reluctant, Damian descended the steps and approached the podium.

    With a curt tone, he asked,

    "So, what spell are you teaching me?"

    "Damian Proud, what¡¯s your favorite basic spell?"

    "Wind Cutter."

    The answer came without a second of hesitation.

    "Show me."

    "...Fine."

    Clicking his tongue, Damian raised his hand, and in an instant, a de of wind formed in his palm.

    It took the shape of a dagger, simple yet sharp and efficient.

    The other students murmured in amazement.

    "That looks way better than my Wind Cutter."

    "The casting speed, the structure¡ªit¡¯s wless."

    "Well, Wind Cutter is his signature move."

    "With a de that sharp, it could cut through almost anything."

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    As Damian lowered his hand, the Wind Cutter began orbiting him like a satellite.

    "There, happy?"

    "Hmm."

    Oscar nodded after briefly examining his Wind Cutter.

    "Good. Today, I¡¯m going to teach you the spell Wind Cutter."

    "¡­¡­Excuse me, but are your eyes just for show? Can¡¯t you see these things floating around me?"

    "Sorry, but that¡¯s not a Wind Cutter by my standards. At best, it¡¯s a half-baked version."

    A half-baked spell? Damian¡¯s eyebrow twitched at the remark.

    "¡­You¡¯re making me curious now. Care to exin exactly what¡¯s so wrong with my Wind Cutter?"

    He looked ready to challenge Oscar to a duel if he didn¡¯t get a satisfactory answer.

    "If you¡¯re curious, I¡¯ll tell you. Listen carefully. Your Wind Cutter has two major ws."

    Oscar extended his hand and grabbed the Wind Cutter barehanded.

    "W-what are you¡­!"

    Who in their right mind would grab a Wind Cutter with their bare hand?

    Damian imagined Oscar bleeding profusely as¡ª

    Whoosh!

    The Wind Cutter, which had been exuding a fierce energy, dissipated as if it were a mere illusion.

    "¡­¡­"

    "¡­¡­"

    Everyone held their breath, staring at the tform.

    "¡­Huh?"

    A deted sound escaped Damian¡¯s lips.

    Wind Cutter was his signature spell.

    It made no sense for it to dissipate so effortlessly, caught barehanded no less.

    ¡®And he wasn¡¯t even infusing his hand with mana?¡¯

    Damian knew because he had seen it up close.

    So, how?

    As questions swirled in his mind, Oscar asked:

    "Damian, what is wind?"

    "¡­What?"

    "Exactly what I said. What do you think wind is?"

    Damian flinched at Oscar¡¯s calm, piercing gaze.

    His eyes seemed to exude the wisdom of an elder, reminiscent of Damian¡¯s own grandfather.

    "Uh, wind is¡­ moving air, right?"

    "Correct. Wind is moving air."

    Water is still water, and fire remains fire even when it flickers.

    But wind is only called wind when air moves and flows constantly.

    Oscar¡¯s eyes softened.

    "That¡¯s why what you created isn¡¯t a Wind Cutter. At best, it¡¯s more of an Air Cutter."

    "¡­Ah!"

    Something clicked, and Damian let out a gasp of realization.

    "Remember this. The White Tower specializes in wind-based magic. In other words, our spells must flow constantly. Otherwise, they¡¯ll copse as easily as just now."

    Just as stagnant water rots, magic formed of unmoving air is inherently fragile.

    Damian, shaken, pressed on.

    "¡­What¡¯s the second w?"

    "You¡¯re using more mana than necessary to cast the spell. It¡¯s causing unnecessary mana expenditure."

    Damian couldn¡¯t help but be impressed.

    Oscar had pinpointed the exact w he himself had vaguely sensed.

    "How¡­ how did you figure all that out from seeing the spell once?"

    "Let¡¯s just say I have a good sense for these things."

    Once a mage reaches a certain level, they can glean a lot just by observing another¡¯s magic¡ªpersonality, habits, even hints of their past.

    "For example, being from the Proud family, which has produced high-ranking mages for generations, you must¡¯ve grown up watching your grandfather or father use Wind Cutter. Even before formally learning magic, you probably tried hard to imitate their Wind Cutter. But since it¡¯s one of the harder basic spells, youpensated by using more mana to force it. That habit stayed with you."

    The shy appearance of his Wind Cutter was likely a subconscious way to mask his insecurities.

    "¡­¡­"

    Damian let out a dry chuckle.

    He hadn¡¯t expected Oscar to deduce so much from just one observation.

    ¡®There¡¯s no arguing with him.¡¯

    As Oscar had said, what Damian had been wielding wasn¡¯t a true Wind Cutter.

    It was a poor imitation, a relic of childhood mistakes.

    ¡®This is the difference in talent¡­ No, it¡¯d be pathetic to me it on that.¡¯

    Oscar was an elite who had published several papers on fundamental spells.

    Dismissing him because of his lower rank was Damian¡¯s own prejudice.

    Feeling a pang of shame, Damian lowered his head.

    "But if you can fix those ws, you¡¯ll create the perfect Wind Cutter."

    Oscar looked genuinely regretful.

    "It¡¯s such a shame that a promising student like you doesn¡¯t want to attend my sses."

    "¡­¡­"

    A few kind words from the start wouldn¡¯t sway someone as prideful as Damian.

    ¡®You have to first prove you¡¯re on a higher level, then appeal to their desire for recognition.¡¯

    Sure enough, Damian¡¯s ears perked up, and he slowly raised his head.

    "¡­Well, if you think that highly of me, I suppose I¡¯ll stick around for a bit longer."

    Oscar watched as Damian returned to his seat and smiled silently.

    From then on, the students¡¯ focus improved remarkably.

    * * *

    Two weeks after Oscar¡¯s lectures began, a strange rumor spread around the White Tower.

    "Hey, have you heard? Oscar Crucian. They say he¡¯spletely nuts."

    "That¡¯s old news. Everyone knows that."

    The mage chatting in a corner of the second-floor cafeteria shook his head vigorously.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    "Not his personality¡ªhis Reinterpretation of Basic Magic lectures."

    "Oh, the ones he started recently? Yeah, seemed like a tough gig for a mere Level 2 mage."

    "Opposite, actually. Haven¡¯t you heard anything?"

    The friend lowered his voice conspiratorially.

    "They¡¯re calling him a teaching prodigy."

    "¡­What does that even mean?"

    "Apparently, he pinpoints every w in a mage¡¯s technique and even provides tailored advice on mana control and circuit setup."

    "Come on, that sounds too good to be true."

    While Oscar Crucian was once hailed as a genius, he was only a Level 2 mage now.

    How could he possibly fix everyone¡¯s ws?

    Seeing his friend¡¯s skepticism, the mage sighed and continued.

    "I¡¯m serious. You know Damian Proud?"

    "That arrogant little noble? What about him?"

    "Oscar publicly pointed out all of Damian¡¯s issues and how to fix them."

    "¡­And Damian didn¡¯t lose it? Sounds like something he¡¯d throw a fit over."

    "Surprisingly, he calmly went back to his seat. He¡¯s been attending every lecture since."

    "What? That can¡¯t be right."

    The ss must be exceptional if even someone as difficult as Damian was impressed.

    "Still, it¡¯s probably only effective for lower-level mages, right?"

    "Who knows? Even some Level 4 and 5 mages are nning to attend his next lecture, just in case."

    The mage gulped nervously at that.

    "If it¡¯s true, we should check it out too."

    "My thoughts exactly. Let¡¯s meet Thursday morning at 6 in front of Lecture Hall 4."

    "Wait, I thought the ss starts at 9?"

    "Don¡¯t be stupid. We need to line up early. Otherwise, we won¡¯t get in."

    Rumors about Oscar¡¯s lectures were spreading rapidly throughout the White Tower.

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 Chapter 24

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    Chapter 24: The Star Instructor, Oscar (3)

    "The market is cold."

    Fidelina mumbled as soon as she returned from her business trip.

    Maxim, noticing her looking out of sorts,mented.

    "What''s that supposed to mean all of a sudden?"

    "...I couldn''t sell even a single potion."

    She slumped into a chair, looking unusually downcast.

    Seeing her like this, the deputy master cautiously spoke up.

    "You couldn''t sell a single potion? Was there some sort of issue?"

    "I wish I could say there wasn''t, but yes, there is a big problem."

    She let out a deep sigh before continuing.

    "Everyone''s too wary of the Blue Tower, so no one wants to ept our potions."

    "Hmm."

    It wasn¡¯t a problem hard to understand.

    The undisputed powerhouse of the potion market was the Blue Tower.

    Merchants naturally had to be mindful of them.

    "That¡¯s certainly a tricky issue. How about lowering the price further?"

    Fidelina shook her head at Maxim¡¯s question.

    "The price advantage is already sufficient. Compared to the Blue Tower''s potions, ours are about 15% cheaper. On top of that, our potions use herbs from Sirin, making them healthier and with fewer side effects. If we only consider product merit and quality, ours win hands down."

    "Were there any ces, even small ones, that were willing to do business?"

    "...Actually, a few ck markets requested bulk supply, but I turned them down. Trading with such ces would damage the Tower''s reputation."

    ck markets are rife with stolen goods, and most of their suppliers are criminals, making them far from clean business environments.

    "The product has no issues, yet no one''s willing to buy it. This is a big problem."

    Currently, nearly all of the White Tower¡¯s revenue came from medicines rted to the Cadena flu.

    However, the treatment had already been widely sold, and the demand for vines was rapidly declining due to their nature.

    If they didn¡¯t find a new source of ie, they would inevitably return to their previous impoverished state.

    Fidelina looked at Maxim and asked,

    "What is Oscar up to these days? That kid''s sharp; maybe he cane up with an idea."

    "Would he have a solution? He''s busy preparing for lectures these days."

    "...Lectures? Is he teaching something rted to alchemy?"

    "No, it''s basic magic. Surprisingly, from what I¡¯ve heard, the reviews are quite positive."

    "Teaching others with that personality of his? I can¡¯t even imagine it."

    Maxim unconsciously nodded in agreement before clearing his throat awkwardly.

    "Ahem. I was actually nning to sit in on his ss tomorrow, so I¡¯ll ask for his opinion on the potion issue as well."

    He said that, but he didn¡¯t really think Oscar would be able to solve the problem.

    This wasn¡¯t something that could be fixed just by making a better potion.

    It was more about politics, something beyond the understanding of a young child like Oscar.

    ...Because of the grown-ups¡¯ circumstances, another innocent child was bound to get hurt again.

    Maxim pondered deeply on how to break the news to Oscar in a less hurtful way.

    * * * * *

    Wednesday morning.

    After finishing preparations for his lecture the following day, Oscar visited the training room on the 40th floor.

    It was his first time visiting since teaching Franst time.

    ''The students mentioned there was something interesting here.''

    Oscar passed by dozens of training rooms until he stopped in front of a room with a different colored door.

    He looked up at the namete above it.

    [Future Innovation Training Room]

    "......."

    Future and innovation.

    Two words that were the least fitting for the current White Tower.

    Only three of these rooms existed in this floor made up of 300 individual training rooms.

    ¡®I¡¯ll find out what makes it different from the usual training rooms once I go inside.¡¯

    He entered and looked around the interior.

    At a nce, it didn¡¯t seem very different from the typical training rooms.

    "...Does it feel a bit different?"

    Oscar muttered, knowing it sounded like a foolish remark.

    Suddenly, a clear voice came through the training room speakers.

    -Hello, this is Argo, the next-generation training support system. Unregistered user detected.

    ''Ah, I see.''

    Oscar''s eyes glinted with realization.

    Magic engineering.

    This technology seemed even more magical than actual magic for someone like him, who lived 20 years ago.

    ¡®So that¡¯s how it is...¡¯

    Oscar¡¯s expression turned sour as he grasped the situation.

    ''Those Yellow Tower bastards must be raking in money. I¡¯m so envious I could die.''

    Just then, the voice identifying itself as Argo continued.

    -If you register your information, we can provide a personalized training course. Would you like to register now?

    "No."

    -Registration declined. Proceeding with training as an unregistered user. Please set the desired training program level.

    "...Level?"

    -The training program has a total of 100 levels, tailored to match the user¡¯s skill.

    Oscar stroked his chin, showing interest.

    "Alright, let¡¯s start with level 1."

    -Understood.

    Momentster, three spheres, each about the size of a human head, appeared in front of Oscar.

    The spheres started moving slowly, like turtles crawling.

    -Use physical or magical attacks to burst all three spheres. If you use area-of-effect magic to burst the spheres, the training will be canceled.

    Oscar lightly released his mana, bursting the spheres, and cheerful music filled the training room.

    -Congrattions! You¡¯ve cleared level 1!

    "Oh, it works like this?"

    For a training exercise, it was quite engaging.

    It was excellent for improving reaction time, casting speed, and mana control.

    ¡®I like that they¡¯ve prevented easy cheats using area-of-effect magic too.¡¯

    To be honest, just ying around with this would significantly improve most mages'' skills.

    ''If level 1 is like this, I wonder what level 100 would be like?''

    Curiosity got the better of Oscar, and he spoke.

    "I want to increase the level."

    -To what level would you like to set it?

    "Level 100."

    As soon as he said that, the training room''s lights turned a shing red.

    -Warning: From level 80 onward, the spheres be very small and move extremely fast, even attacking the user. For the safety of the elderly, pregnant women, or children, we rmend stopping the challenge.

    "It¡¯s fine. Proceed."

    Once the lights returned to normal, Oscar casually stretched his neck and warmed up.

    ¡®Come on, how hard could it be?¡¯

    The moment he thought that, a swarm of tiny spheres, far smaller than before, appeared.

    The spheres were barely the size of two fingertips.

    -Use physical or magical attacks to burst 1,000 spheres. If you use area-of-effect magic, the training will be canceled. If you get hit by a moving sphere more than 10 times, the training will be canceled.

    ".....!"

    Oscar instinctively tilted his head to the side.

    Whoosh!

    He barely dodged the sphere, which flew as fast as an arrow.

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    On top of that, there were a thousand of these spheres darting around the training room at such speed.

    ¡®...They don¡¯t even slow down when they hit the wall.¡¯

    Feeling a sense of danger, Oscar hurriedlyunched four Wind Cutters into the air.

    Bang! Bang bang bang!

    The Wind Cutters, moving as if alive, chased down and burst the iing spheres, but the number of spheres didn¡¯t seem to decrease at all.

    ¡®...At this rate, I¡¯ll run out of mana first.¡¯

    Oscar thought, sensing the urgency of the situation.

    He immediately scattered all of the Wind Cutters.

    ¡®What I need right now is something that consumes less mana than Wind Cutter, can pop the balls, and can be used in greater quantities.¡¯

    With this thought, Oscar quickly made a decision and began shaping his mana.

    What he created were twelve mana needles.

    ¡®Compared to Wind Cutter, I''ve reduced mana consumption by 96%, but increased the number by 200%.¡¯

    This was possible because his magical calction ability and mana control were honed to their limits.

    ¡®Although in my current state, handling around twelve is the limit¡­ But this should be enough.¡¯

    With that, the twelve needles shot forward, mercilessly bursting the approaching orbs.

    ¡®They said I''d fail if I got hit ten times. As a former Tower Master, there''s no way I can lose to these simple training orbs.¡¯

    Oscar moved his body vigorously, dodging the iing orbs.

    ¡®Looks like the stamina training every morning is paying off.¡¯

    Although he was still out of breath after just a bit of movement, he had clearly improvedpared to before.

    ¡®But¡­ isn''t this training a bit too advanced for beginners?¡¯

    He muttered in surprise.

    ¡®This requires not just control and calction of mana but also physical abilities.¡¯

    In other words, this 100-stage training is not just about effort; it requires innate talent, something you''re born with and can''t change.N?v(el)B\\jnn

    ¡®Well, no matter what.¡¯

    For someone like Oscar, who had survived countless battlefields, this level of training felt almost adorable.

    Pop! Pop! Pop!

    The sound of orbs bursting like popcorn filled the training room.

    The moment he burst the 1,000th orb, a notification rang out.

    -Congrattions! You have passed the 100th stage.

    "Huff, huff. That was a good warm-up."

    Oscar copsed onto the floor, drenched in sweat, catching his breath.

    ¡®So, the mages of this era undergo this kind of training from a young age?¡¯

    If that was true, then modern mages might be far superiorpared to the past.

    It also meant that the White Tower had a long way to go.

    ¡®¡­No need to rush. Just take it one step at a time.¡¯

    With a smile, Oscar jumped to his feet.

    His stamina waspletely drained after just a few minutes, but he felt surprisingly refreshed.

    "Maybe I shoulde here to relieve stress once in a while."

    As he dragged his exhausted body out of the training room, he suddenly froze when he met someone''s gaze.

    "¡­"

    A woman with long brown hair tied up behind her head.

    Her sharp, upturned eyes drew his attention.

    Although it was his first time seeing her in person, he knew who she was.

    ¡®Veronica Fricks. She was also one of the troublemakers mentioned in little Oscar''s journal.¡¯

    * * * * *

    Veronica Fricks visited the training room again today, as she did every morning.

    For her, starting the day with a sweaty workout was a long-standing routine.

    She was a firm believer in the saying, "Healthy mana resides in a healthy body."

    "¡­?"

    Her steps halted when she encountered an unexpected person.

    ¡®Oscar Crucian?¡¯

    The man once called a genius by the world was panting heavily as he emerged from the training room.

    He stared at her intently.

    "¡­"

    His deep and calm eyes were unreadable.

    She hated those eyes, which seemed to look down on everyone.

    They made her feel even more insignificant than she already did.

    In the end, she was the one who spoke first.

    "What are you staring at?"

    "¡­Did youe to train this morning?"

    "Why else would Ie to the training room? To have breakfast?"

    Despite her sharp tone, Oscar maintained his usual expressionless face as he slowly opened his mouth.

    "That''s admirable."

    "¡­?"

    "A healthy mana resides in a healthy body. Keep up the good work."

    Veronica watched Oscar walk away with a bewildered look.

    "¡­What the hell is with him today? Did he eat something weird?"

    He usually ignored her as if she were invisible, so why was he suddenly acting so friendly?

    Even the advice he gave was absurdly condescending.

    "A healthy mana resides in a healthy body."

    That was a famous quote from the 17th Tower Master, Oscar Sage, whom she respected.

    It wasughable that he spoke as if it were his own idea.

    Frowning, she stared in the direction Oscar had disappeared.

    ¡®¡­He actually trains, huh?¡¯

    It was her first time witnessing someone like him¡ªwho seemed to embody arrogance itself¡ªtrain until he was utterly exhausted.

    ¡®Does hee here often?¡¯

    Maybe they just hadn''t crossed paths because of different schedules.

    ¡®¡­Well, it has nothing to do with me. He¡¯s just an annoying guy who looks down on me for being amoner despite both of us being orphans.¡¯

    Scowling in irritation, she opened the door to the advanced training room with a rough push.

    "Argo, prepare stage 50 as a warm-up.¡±

    -Understood.

    As she threw her coat to the side and started stretching, she asked casually.

    "There haven''t been any changes in the rankings, right?"

    -There has been.

    "Yeah, yeah. Of course, there hasn''t¡­ Wait, what?"

    Her eyes widened in surprise.

    "Show me the rankings."

    At her request, a holographic ranking list appeared.

    [Rankings]

    1st ce: 100 stages in 9 minutes 57 seconds, AAA

    2nd ce: 100 stages in 14 minutes 02 seconds, Killian Lockwood

    3rd ce: 100 stages in 14 minutes 55 seconds, Veronica Fricks

    Her lips parted in astonishment as she looked at the rankings.

    ¡®AAA?¡¯

    This was the initial assigned when an unregistered user set a new record.

    She became puzzled.

    ¡®Could it be one of the elders? No, this is only recorded for mages below level 5.¡¯

    Which meant someone within the White Tower, a level 5 mage or lower, had set a new record.

    And they had even broken the formidable 10-minute barrier.

    As far as she knew, no mage below level 5 had ever achieved such a record across the entire continent.

    "¡­Who is this person?"

    -I''m sorry, but I cannot provide personal information due to privacy concerns.

    As expected, she frowned at the response.

    ¡®Killian is currently on an external mission, so who could it be?¡¯

    This training wasn''t something that could be aced just by having a high mana level.

    It required mana control, situational judgment, crisis detection, and physical ability.

    Only those with a perfect bnce of these skills could break into the top ranks.

    ¡®Of the regrs who visit the training room, who could it possibly be¡­?¡¯

    As she ran through the faces in her mind, she suddenly paused.

    Someone she would normally never consider briefly crossed her thoughts.

    ¡®Oscar Crucian?¡¯

    It was probably because she had just seen him leave the training room.

    But she quickly shook her head.

    ¡®No way, not him. A level 2 mage who can only use basic spells setting that record?¡¯

    It would be more believable if someone imed he was the reincarnation of Oscar Sage.

    ¡®¡­It couldn¡¯t really be him, right?¡¯

    Yet, like a tiny thorn stuck in her throat, the thought of him wouldn''t leave her mind.

    After all, he was once a genius that the world had its eyes on.

    ¡®Ugh, asking him directly would hurt my pride. This is driving me crazy.¡¯

    After agonizing for a while, an idea suddenly struck her.

    ¡®Right, there''s that lecture on the reinterpretation of basic spells. Oscar Crucian himself is teaching it.¡¯

    The ss was gaining quite a reputation, with rumors even reaching her ears about its impressive level.

    ¡®¡­Maybe if I attend his lecture, I can get a sense of his current abilities.¡¯

    The thoughts of AAA and Oscar swirled in her mind for a long time after that.

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 Chapter 25

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    Chapter 25: The Star Instructor, Oscar (4)

    Today marked the third week of the "Reinterpretation of Basic Magic" ss.

    The atmosphere inside Lecture Hall 4 was quite different from usual.

    "...Why are there so many people here today? I even see some senior-level mages, like 4th and 5th level."

    "I heard rumors that Oscar is a top-tier instructor."

    "Still, this is just a basic magic ss... Wait, is that Elder Maxim at the back?"

    "What the¡ª it really is him. This feels more like a magic society seminar than a ss."

    This was evidence of how hotly debated Oscar¡¯s lectures had be within the White Tower.

    The mages who had attended from the start felt a strange sense of pride, while thoseing for the first time were filled with a sense of expectation as they awaited Oscar.

    nk!

    Finally, when Oscar appeared, over 70 pairs of eyes turned to him.

    "........."

    Without a hint of surprise or tension from the numerous gazes, he calmly walked up to the podium and began speaking without any introduction.

    "Today, we will learn a spell that you should consider the most important as a mage."

    "Ooh!"

    The eyes of the mages, who came with half-expectation and half-skepticism, sparkled like stars.

    Just as they were beginning to feel thating here was a good idea¡ª

    "The spell is none other than ''Wind.''"

    "........."

    The excitement shattered like ss, and an unmistakable look of disappointment appeared on their faces.

    What kind of spell was Wind?

    It was as basic as it gets¡ªa fundamental spell that even non-White Tower mages could use.

    Sensing the mages'' dissatisfaction, Maxim lightly raised his hand and spoke.

    "I was just nning to observe quietly, but my curiosity got the better of me. Oscar, are you really going to teach Wind magic to this many mages?"

    "Yes."

    Oscar''s confident attitude, as if wondering what the problem was, made Maxim give a wry smile.

    "Well, it certainly aligns with the concept of reinterpreting basic magic, but I doubt there''s anyone here who doesn''t already know the Wind spell."

    "As you said, there¡¯s probably no one who doesn¡¯t know it. But truly understanding it and making it your own is apletely different matter. Elder, could you perhaps demonstrate the Wind spell for us?"

    It was an unexpected request, but Maxim nodded readily.

    "Not difficult. Wind."

    Whoosh!

    A hot, desert-like gust of wind swept through the room, making everyone''s hair and robes flutter before it vanished.

    The stunned mages murmured among themselves.

    "...Was that Wind? Not Gale or Wind Press?"

    "That¡¯s insane. This is the level you need to be an Elder, huh?"

    Even a basic spell, when used by a high-level mage, had an entirely different power.

    The mages, who had just witnessed a new level of magic, gazed at Maxim with profound respect.

    Maxim chuckled at their reactions and asked,

    "Was that sufficient?"

    "Thank you."

    After a brief bow of gratitude, Oscar turned his gaze to a mage sitting at the front.

    "Amy Lavin, why don''t you try casting the Wind spell now?"

    "M-Me?"

    ¡®Why me?¡¯ she almost asked aloud, but with so many eyes already on her, she had no choice but toply.

    Reluctantly, she performed the spell.

    This time, a gentle breeze, like that of a spring day, softly caressed the surroundings before dissipating.

    Oscar raised his hand and scanned the students.

    "Who thinks they can tell the difference between these two spells? Raise your hand."

    A few cautious mages raised their hands and hesitantly offered their answers.

    "The range and power were different?"

    "Um... I think the temperature felt a bit different too."

    "It was clearly the same spell, but the atmosphere or vibe felt a bit different."

    While none of these answers were wrong, they weren¡¯t what Oscar was looking for.

    At that moment, Veronica Frix, sitting in the corner of the ssroom, muttered softly.

    "...The nature of the mana."

    "Correct. Veronica Frix."

    "Huh?"

    Veronica was startled, having never expected her quiet musing to be heard.

    Oscar gave her an approving nod as he continued.

    "As she said, the difference between the two spells lies in the nature of the mana used."

    Holding onto the podium, Oscar looked around the lecture hall.

    "Isn''t it fascinating? Both spells were identical in theirposition and execution, yet one felt like a hot desert wind, and the other like a gentle spring breeze. The results were so different that it was hard to believe they were the same spell."

    Oscar paused, giving the students a moment to ponder, then continued.

    "Does anyone here understand what the nature of mana is?"

    "Uh... isn''t it the four attributes of mana?"

    "That''s the categorization of mana, but the nature of mana is a different concept altogether."

    Oscar scanned the students before starting his exnation in a calm voice.

    "To exin the nature of mana, we must first look at the roots of the White Tower. Historically, the White Tower and the Blue Tower have been ssified as towers representing the Harmony System. Can anyone exin why?"

    "...Because of the inherent properties of their attributes?"

    Oscar nodded at the textbook answer.

    "Correct. The Red Tower and the Yellow Tower are strong and fast, but theyck harmony. After all, there''s no such thing as cold fire or lightning, right?"

    But the White Tower and Blue Tower are different.

    "Wind and water can be as cold as ice or as hot as fire. That¡¯s why we represent the Harmony System."

    Everyone nodded.

    This wasmon knowledge for most mages.

    "But even between the Blue Tower and the White Tower, which are both called part of the Harmony System, there is a clear difference."

    The "Water" spell summoned a drop of water above Oscar''s palm.

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    The water slowly began to boil.

    "As everyone knows, the conditions for boiling water are simple: at standard atmospheric pressure, it needs a temperature of 100¡ã and some time."

    Fwoosh!

    The boiling water quickly evaporated, bing wind.

    With a wave of Oscar''s hand, the wind alternated between hot and cold within seconds.

    "In contrast, wind, which easily adapts to its surroundings, can instantly change its nature."

    Like a chameleon.

    This was the crucial difference between the White Tower and the Blue Tower.

    "Wind is freer than any other attribute. It can, if desired, produce power as intense as the mes of the Red Tower, move as swiftly as the lightning of the Yellow Tower, or take on forms as fluid as the water of the Blue Tower. Even though there is a saying that even water from the Blue Tower refuses to mix like oil, the wind has no such constraints."

    Wind is the only attribute that can epass any quality, shaped purely by the imagination of the mage.

    Only the wind can contain the harmony of everything in this world.

    "Thus, as a mage of the White Tower, you must be aware of how you perceive and view the wind."

    Oscar''s gaze turned towards Maxim.

    "To some, the wind might be seen as a fierce, scorching force that could melt the very skin of their opponent."n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    He then looked at Amy Lavin, who was staring with her mouth agape.

    "To others, it might feel like a warm and gentle breeze of spring."

    There is no right or wrong in interpreting the nature of the wind.

    Because the free wind embraces all the paths it stretches out to.

    "The key takeaway from today¡¯s lesson is to understand what kind of existence you perceive the wind to be."

    The moment you realize this, the "nature of your magic" is determined, influencing every spell you cast.

    Oscar looked at the faces deep in thought.

    ''In my previous life, I never shared these teachings. This concept is usually only grasped when one bes a high-ranking mage.''

    Back then, he believed that mages should learn everything through personal experience.

    He thought both brilliant sesses and devastating failures were the foundations of bing an excellent mage.

    ''I realized only on my deathbed that this thinking was wrong. It was nothing but the arrogance and vanity of someone who had already walked the path.''

    So, in this life, he decided not to hold back in his teachings.

    ''However, I won¡¯ty out the entire path to the top. The only path I know is the one I walked as Oscar Sage. Even though I reached the summit through that path, I don''t believe it''s the only right answer.¡¯

    ''If there are ten thousand mages, then there are ten thousand correct answers.''

    Teaching everything from start to finish would only limit the infinite possibilities the others hold.

    So, the best he could do was offer just this much advice.

    Those with potential would gain quite a lot from today¡¯s lesson.

    "......Hm?"

    It was at that moment.

    "The wind, to me, the wind is surely... surely..."

    Maxim, who had been muttering, suddenly looked dazed.

    The mage sitting next to him cautiously reached out to check his condition.

    "Elder, are you alright?"

    "Don''t touch him!"

    Oscar shouted and rushed up the stairs.

    "Make space around Elder Maxim immediately. Do not interrupt his moment of realization."

    The mages gasped in awe.

    ¡®Ah, could this be the fabled...''

    ''The moment of enlightenment!''

    ''I heard that mages above level 7 need to gain certain realizations to advance in levels.''

    ''I never thought I¡¯d witness this in person.''

    From level 7,monly ssified as high-ranking mages, enlightenment became essential.

    Without gaining such insights, installing additional circuits in their bodies was impossible.

    ''Maxim...''

    If the level 7 mage could take this opportunity to advance to level 8, it would be a great asset.

    However, after a brief moment, Maxim opened his eyes, unable to hide his disappointment.

    ¡°Whew."

    In the end, he hadn¡¯t crossed the threshold to level 8.

    He only gained a small realization by retracing a path he had already walked.

    Still, as a level 7 mage, his depth of understanding had grown even deeper.

    Maxim turned his head and expressed pure gratitude.

    "Thank you, Oscar! No, I should call you teacher here, shouldn¡¯t I?"

    "...It''s honestly kind of creepy."

    "Haha! I''m really grateful! Really! Hahaha!"

    Maxim hugged Oscar tightly, nearly squeezing the life out of him, before finally letting go.

    After that, the concentration of the students skyrocketed.

    After all, it wasn¡¯t just any lecture but one capable of granting insight to a level 7 mage.

    ''Thanks to this, things will be much smoother moving forward.''

    Those of lower rank and level than Elder Maxim would not dare to challenge his words.

    This meant that he could quickly elevate their skills before the ''Night of Magic.''

    ''But the greatest gain from today was...!''

    Oscar subtly turned his head and locked eyes with a mage who couldn¡¯t look away from him.

    ''Veronica Fricks! It means I¡¯ve managed to capture the interest of that troublemaker.''

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 Chapter 26

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    Chapter 26: Supplements (1)

    Azy Saturday morning, with the sun gently seeping through the cracks of the tower.

    Havingpleted his morning training, Oscar headed to the caf¨¦ on the second floor.

    His body felt invigorated, but his expression was anything but cheerful.

    ¡®Those filthy Blue Tower bastards¡­¡¯

    Just a few days ago, after a ss, Elder Maxim shared some news with him.

    It was that merchants were reluctant to stock White Tower potions due to pressure from the Blue Tower.

    ¡®No doubt the Blue Tower applied some pressure. It''s so obvious.¡¯

    It''s true that the White Tower had made a name for itself with its remedy for the Cadena flu.

    However, the potion market was far toorge for one sess to change its dynamics entirely.

    ¡®Simply put, the merchants believe we''re not yet at a level topete with the Blue Tower.¡¯

    As harsh as it felt, it was a fair judgment.

    No matter how effective their potions were, there was nopelling reason for merchants to risk the ire of the Blue Tower by purchasing from the White Tower.

    ¡®Sigh, this is such a headache. And why is this caf¨¦ so crowded early in the morning?¡¯

    Oscar, standing in line, nced at the bustling crowd.

    He overheard a conversation between two nearby mages.

    "What tasks are you handling today?"

    "Just mail delivery. I only have to cover Belod Street from 1st to 5th Avenue."

    "Wow, that should be quick. I''ve been stuck with package delivery, which is a nightmare."

    "Tough luck."

    Oscar instinctively turned his gaze toward the mages ahead of him.

    ¡®Ah, so these must be the ''Wind Riders,'' or whatever they''re called.¡¯

    Despite hisck of understanding, these were the ones handling the White Tower''s primary business¡ªdeliveries.

    From their attire, one could hardly tell they were mages.

    If not for the white-themed clothing, they looked just like regr postal workers.

    "Oh, by the way, did you hear? Our sries are supposed to be increased starting this month."

    "Really? That''ll be a relief. Well, the Tower''s making good money now, thanks to the remedies and vines selling well."

    "I wish they''d shut down the delivery business and just focus on that instead."

    "That would be nice, but you know how serious the Tower Master is about the delivery service."

    "I just can''t understand it. Why put so much effort into such a small, insignificant market?"

    Oscar silently agreed with their assessment.

    ¡®Delivery certainly isn''t an attractive business.¡¯

    It requires manpower but doesn''t generate much profit.

    There''s no political advantage or power to be gained from it either.

    However, there was one notable upside.

    ¡®ording to my research, the delivery service doesn''t make much money, but its public approval is by far the highest among all the Tower''s business divisions.¡¯

    It made sense. What other mage tower would invest resources and mages into a nearly volunteer-like service that doesn''t bring in profits?

    Oscar''s expression turned a bit bittersweet.

    ¡®Sasha has always been overly kind-hearted, even from a young age. That might be why she can''t bring herself to shut down the delivery division.¡¯

    As a mentor, he felt proud of her for maintaining such a warm spirit despite tough circumstances.

    ¡®But¡­¡¯

    As a former Tower Master, his cold evaluation was that her management skills left much to be desired.

    Running a money-losing business when every coin mattered was a poor decision.

    ¡®If only the potion sales were going smoother, things would be less strained.¡¯

    Oscar''s brows furrowed with deep contemtion.

    "Let''s just get a coffee and push through the day. There are good moments in work, after all."

    "That''s true. Especially when we help elderly folks with heavy stuff, they often give us treats."

    "..."

    At that moment, a light bulb went off in Oscar''s mind.

    He quickly approached the departing mages.

    "Wait! Can I ask you something?"

    "Huh? Oscar? What is it?"

    "When you''re out delivering, do you often meet people face-to-face?"n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

    "Well... yeah, quite often. We need to get a signature confirming delivery."

    Snap!

    Hearing the response he wanted,

    Oscar snapped his fingers.

    He thanked them and headed straight to the Deputy Tower Master.

    * * *

    "So, let me get this straight..."

    Deputy Tower Master Hamel Grimwiz looked up after reading the business proposal before him.

    "You want to use the White Tower''s Wind Riders to do door-to-door sales?"

    "Precisely."

    Oscar began exining his n calmly.

    "I heard that market merchants aren''t buying our potions¡ªWhite Tower''s potions¡ªbecause of their allegiance to the Blue Tower."

    "That''s a painful truth."

    "To break into this entrenched market, we need a solid base of regr customers."

    "Hmm."

    The Deputy Tower Master nodded.

    "I understand your intent. But isn''t this unrealistic?"

    Recipients of mail and packagese in all ages and genders.

    And right now, the White Tower doesn''t have products that can appeal to all of them.

    In response, Oscar gave a confident smile.

    "If we don''t have the products, we can just create new ones."

    "Are you suggesting developing new potions?"

    "No need for something as grand as developing. Just a few tweaks."

    Oscar grabbed a piece of paper and sketched a vial.

    "Look, this is one of our best-performing mid-tier healing potions."

    With quick strokes, he drew four lines branching out from the vial.

    "We''ll slightly modify this potion and re-release it as four different products."

    The first would be for children, promoting rapid growth and strong bones.

    The second would be for women, enhancing skin sticity, whitening, and reducing pores.

    The third would be for men, supporting muscle growth and strength.

    Lastly, the fourth would be for the elderly, boosting overall immunity and vitality.

    "Whenever the Wind Riders deliver mail, they''ll also promote these four potions... No, let''s change the term while we''re at it."

    For the general public, the term ''potion'' itself was intimidating.

    Potions were seen as something only knights, soldiers, or adventurers would drink.

    "Supplements. We''ll call them supplements. From now on, the White Tower''s Wind Riders will do door-to-door sales of these supplements while delivering mail."

    "..."

    The Deputy Tower Master, momentarily stunned, regained his senses and spoke.

    "Adjusting the effects of an already developed potion is easier said than done. In practice, it might be more challenging than creating four new products."

    "Really? It¡¯s just a matter of tweaking ingredient ratios and adding a few additionalponents."

    "..."

    In other words, only a genius like Oscar Crucian could pull this off.

    After a brief moment of thought, the Deputy Tower Master spoke up.

    "It''s certainly a novel idea. And it¡¯s bound to be effective."

    "Are you saying...?"

    "Go ahead with it."

    With the green light, Oscar got to work immediately.

    In just two days, the recipes for the four supplements werepleted and sent to the potion manufacturing department.

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    * * *

    Creak, creak.

    In a rocking chair on his front porch, an old man named Graham looked up at the clear sky.

    Watching the sky on a breezy afternoon was his only joy these days.

    "As I get older, my energy just keeps dwindling..."

    His usual hobby was ying chess at the central fountain of Sirin, but recently, even that had be too exhausting for his tired body and mind.

    Someone approached him as he gazed up at the sky, feeling as weak as a sickly chicken.

    "Mr. Graham!"

    "...Hmm?"

    At the sound of someone calling his name, Graham slowly turned his head, a rare spark of life lighting up his eyes.

    It was the White Tower''s postman, who spoke with him more often than his busy children and grandchildren.

    "Good to see you. Do you have a letter for me?"

    "Yes, it''s from a friend of yours in Melbourne."

    "Ha. So that old friend of mine is still kicking, huh."

    "Oh,e on. They say people live to a hundred nowadays. Why would he be dead?"

    "A hundred? Even at eighty, I feel like my body and mind are heavy as lead."

    "Is that so?"

    The postman, rummaging through his rather full-looking backpack, suddenly pulled something out.

    "In that case, would you like to try this, sir?"

    "Hmm? What is that?"

    "It''s a new supplement we''ve justunched at our Magic Tower."

    The postman handed him a small ss bottle, just the size to fit in his palm.

    Thebel read "S-Zero."

    "S-Zero? What''s that supposed to mean?"

    "Oh, it stands for a ''Senior'' supplement that''s top priority for the elderly."

    "Hah. What''s the point of an old man like me, waiting for his time, drinking that?"

    "It does make a difference."

    The postman leaned closer, ncing around as if making sure no one else was listening, and lowered his voice.

    "You know old Mr. Miller on 2nd Avenue, right? He took thisst week, and now he''s out hiking these days."

    "...Is that really true?"

    Graham couldn''t hide his disbelief.

    After all, Mr. Miller had alwaysined about his knees, barely able to walk.

    "Yes. It''s because this supplement was developed by Oscar Crucian, the Magic Tower''s prodigy himself."

    "Oscar Crucian... That name sounds familiar..."

    "Remember? He was the one who developed the cure for the Cadena flu not long ago."

    "Oh, right!"

    The memory clicked.

    The elderly folks had been abuzz with talk about how a real talent had finally emerged from the crumbling Magic Tower.

    Knowing that, the little bottle in his hand suddenly seemed much more significant.

    "So, this is a supplement made by that amazing wizard?"

    Graham stared at the bottle with curiosity, then turned his head.

    "But... how much does it cost?"

    "One bottle is 30 bels. If you take one bottle a week, it should give you a boost."

    "Hmm. I don''t need it."

    It was expensive.

    The price was enough for a nice steak dinner at a good restaurant.

    It was too much for someone like Graham, living on a modest pension.

    The postman interjected just as Graham was about to hand the bottle back.

    "Hold on, sir. You¡¯re registered as a resident of Sirin, right? We¡¯re currently running a special promotion for residents. If you sign up for a year-long subscription, we''ll deliver one bottle of the supplement every week for just 799 bells. And it''s even avable with a 12-month interest-free payment n."

    Normally, drinking a bottle weekly would cost 1,560 bells a year.

    But now, they were offering it at half the price.

    It felt like a deal he couldn¡¯t pass up.

    Plus, they offered an interest-free payment n.

    ¡®799 bells for a year... If I cut down on alcohol and cigarettes, I might manage it somehow¡­¡¯

    After all, his kids had been nagging him to reduce those habits, considering his age.

    Spending that money on a healthy supplement seemed like a better investment.

    Besides, he was reaching an age where he was starting to notice signs of health decline.

    "Oh, and we¡¯re giving away the first bottle for free."

    "Ha! You should have said that first!"

    Graham immediately opened the bottle and downed the supplement in one gulp.

    "Mm!"

    It was sweet with a hint of bitterness, a taste that felt oddly addictive.

    Even if the effect wasn¡¯t immediate, the vor alone made him want to have it from time to time.

    "It''s tasty. But I don¡¯t feel any sudden surge of energy."

    "Oh,e on, sir! If you felt a boost right after drinking it, it wouldn¡¯t be a supplement; it would be a miracle potion."

    "Haha, that''s true."

    Graham chuckled and waved at the postman, who was getting ready to leave.

    "Don¡¯t go too far. Come back again sometime."

    "Of course. I hope to see you in good health next time!"

    * * *

    The next morning, when Graham woke up, he felt a strange sense of difort.

    It was only while washing up and eating freshly made toast and bacon that he realized what it was.

    "...I feel refreshed."

    For the past few months, he had woken up feeling groggy and heavy-headed.

    But today, he felt surprisingly light and clear-minded.

    ¡®Could it be because of the supplement I drank yesterday?¡¯

    No way, he thought.

    Could one bottle make such a difference overnight?

    He shook his head with a chuckle, dismissing the idea.

    Nevertheless, he put on his outdoor clothes and decided to visit the fountain for the first time in a while.

    "...Hey, isn¡¯t that old Graham?"

    "I hadn¡¯t seen you in weeks. Thought you were gone for good. But here you are, looking fine."

    "I¡¯m not going anywhere before you, my friend. I just wasn¡¯t feeling well, so I took a few days off."

    Graham naturally sat in an empty seat and started a game of chess after a long break.

    "Wow, did you practice at home while you were away? You¡¯re on fire today."

    "Haha. I¡¯m feeling unusually focused today. It¡¯s like I¡¯m ten years younger."

    "What¡¯s going on? Did you find some magical elixir?"

    "Not exactly an elixir, but..."

    "Come on, spill it. You definitely took something."

    Under the persistent questioning of his friends, Graham cautiously revealed the story of the supplement from the Magic Tower.

    And it wasn¡¯t just happening in Sirin; across all territories where the White Tower¡¯s postmen traveled, simr stories were unfolding simultaneously.

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 Chapter 27

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    Chapter 27: Supplements (2)

    There is a city in the Empire where dark clouds gather 365 days a year, and a drizzle falls continuously.

    This ce is the territory of the Blue Tower, Rafus.

    A meeting was in session inside the tall tower in this gloomynd.

    "......The Tower Master has issued a final ultimatum."

    Moira Main, a 5th-level mage of the Blue Tower, spoke up.

    She looked visibly exhausted, with dark shadows under her eyes from the past few weeks of grueling work.

    "He said that if we fail to recover the losses the Tower has sustained this time, we should be prepared for the consequences."

    At her words, some subordinates shivered and mmed the table in frustration.

    "The Tower Master is being too harsh! Is this entirely our fault?"

    "......Not exactly."

    If it weren''t for that arrogant young brat, Oscar Crucian, interrupting things midway, the atmosphere of this meeting would bepletely different.

    In that case, Moira might have already been promoted to a high-ranking position in the potion department.

    "But the past is the past. What''s important now is that we have onest chance left."

    If a crisis arises, it must be turned into an opportunity.

    If Moira could solve this problem, she could undoubtedly cement her status with the Tower Master.

    "Show the requested data."

    "Yes, ma''am."

    The junior mage immediately projected the prepared data on one side of the meeting room wall.

    "This is aparison chart of potions from the Blue Tower and the White Tower, which recently entered the potion market."

    "Hmm......"

    Moira examined the data thoughtfully.

    ¡®The White Tower has definitely restored records of old potions. The effects are indeed remarkable.

    However, just because the effects were good doesn''t mean it tranted into sales.

    The reason was simple, merchants were wary of the Blue Tower¡¯s influence.

    Their strategy seems to be offering low prices despite their effectiveness, but it likely won¡¯t work.

    No merchant in the potion market would dare incur the wrath of the Blue Tower.¡¯

    A junior mage muttered in amazement while looking at the same screen.

    "It''s honestly surprising. Even with such effective and much cheaper potions, merchants won''t touch them at all because they''re afraid of our influence."

    "It¡¯s to be expected. Humans are inherently distrustful creatures."

    Moira smirked.

    Humans often equate price with quality.

    In other words, even if a simr product is introduced at a lower price, people tend not to switch from what they¡¯re used to.

    "Especially with potions, if the price is too low, people suspect cheap ingredients or potential side effects from long-term use."

    This was the perception that Moira intended to exploit.

    Havingpleted her calctions, Moira spoke.

    "The White Tower... we could crush them easily right now, don''t you think?"

    "What do you mean?"

    "Starting tomorrow, request a massive discount on all recovery potions below the premium level."

    Her n was to prevent the White Tower from even gaining a foothold in the market.

    It was a tactic only a dominant yer like the Blue Tower could afford to use.

    A subordinate hesitantly raised his hand with a question.

    "But if the White Tower endures this, won''t we suffer significant losses? They did earn quite a bit from the Cadena flu treatment, after all."

    "Heh, how much could they have possibly earned?"

    Moira scoffed.

    It was not baseless arrogance but rather confidence born from her calctions.

    "They were foolish enough to release the treatment too early."

    If the Blue Tower had developed the Cadena flu cure, they would have waited until the flu became a nationwide epidemic before selling it.

    That would have maximized their profits.

    But the White Tower foolishly squandered that opportunity.

    "They released the treatment when the flu was only spreading in the northern region."

    Moira estimated the sales in her mind and then spoke.

    "They probably made, at most, a few tens of millions of bells."

    "A few tens of millions of bells... That¡¯s a pretty ambiguous sum."

    While an enormous amount to the average person, it was hardly a substantial reserve for a Magic Tower¡¯s treasury.

    In fact, that kind of money was barely enough for basic operations.

    "They likely nned to use the goodwill from the treatment tounch their potions and enter the market, but... that''s not going to happen."

    If the Blue Tower had suffered a loss, then the White Tower should, too.

    Moira had no doubts about her decision.

    "Three weeks."

    She held up three fingers and dered confidently.

    "If we discount our potions for just three weeks, it¡¯ll be enough to choke them out. They won¡¯t be able to establish themselves in the market."

    She recalled the arrogant words the White Tower''s brat had once told her:

    - To use the potions you''ve created, you¡¯ll either have to pay us royalties for using the patented technology or destroy the entire stock. You¡¯ll have to choose one.

    Remembering that moment, her eyes red with anger once again.

    ¡®That insolent fool. He must have felt on top of the world back then.

    But now, our roles have reversed.

    The White Tower will either jump into a price war and bleed out or be forced to hold onto all their stock and face ruin. They¡¯ll have to choose one or the other.¡¯

    * * * * *

    Lena White, a 5th-level mage of the White Tower, was in charge of managing the potion department in Oscar''s absence.

    Her expression darkened as she read the morning newspaper.

    [Blue Tower Launches ¡°Warm Winter¡± Discount Campaign.]

    The Blue Tower, theirpetitor, had suddenly started offering discounts on all their potions.

    The discount was a whopping 50%, with a seemingly good justification ¡ª to help the poor get through the harsh winter in good health.

    Of course, with such a steep discount, there was no way they could make any profit.

    ¡®In fact, they¡¯re losing money with every potion they sell....¡¯

    Realizing the obvious trap in this move, Lena hurried to find Oscar.

    "Oscar, this is serious."

    "What¡¯s the matter?"

    "Look at this."

    Instead of frowning, Oscar took the newspaper and let out a smallugh.

    "Look at them, pulling such a cute little trick."

    "......Cute? This insane discount could ruin us!"

    "Why would it ruin us?"

    Oscar crumpled the newspaper and tossed it into the trash can, unfazed.

    "Don¡¯t worry. They can¡¯t sustain this kind of discount for more than two or three weeks."

    "Those two or three weeks could be devastating for us! We need to establish a foothold while the Cadena flu-rted products are still selling..."

    After that, breaking into the market would be even harder.

    Lena bit her lip and spoke.

    "It¡¯s not toote. Let¡¯s bundle the Cadena flu products with our potions and sell them together."

    "Absolutely not."

    Oscar shook his head firmly.

    "That¡¯s exactly what the Blue Tower wants. We¡¯d be giving them the perfect excuse to crush us."

    The Cadena-rted products would only be in demand for at most another month.

    If they bundled them with potions, their sales would indeed skyrocket.

    However, market dissatisfaction would quietly build.

    ¡®When the Cadena treatment is no longer needed, we¡¯d be finished as well.¡¯

    He could already imagine the sensational headlines that would pop up.

    "So what should we do? We can¡¯t just sit here and get pummeled until we copse."

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    Lena looked frustrated, but then she noticed something odd.

    ¡®Why is he... so calm in this situation?¡¯

    His rxed demeanor was infuriating, as if the poor potion sales didn¡¯t concern him at all.

    "......Do you have something nned?"

    "It would be rude not to respond when they attack us, right?"

    Oscar turned to Lena with a question.

    "Until now, we haven¡¯t sold any potions, right?"

    "Yes. We haven¡¯t sold a single bottle."

    "Which means we still have all that potion stock in our warehouse?"

    "......In the warehouse? The stock is piled up like a mountain."

    "Perfect."

    Oscar made a bold decision.

    "Starting today, reprocess all the intermediate potions piled up in the warehouse into the Zero Series. I''ve given you the recipe, so you can handle it, right?"

    "¡­All that stock?"

    "Or would you rather sit around hugging that stock while doing nothing?"

    Oscar chuckled and continued.

    "And tell the postmen to spread the word: if a household buys two or more kinds of Zero Series, offer an additional discount. That way, families with kids or elderly parents will be inclined to buy more."

    "Heh."

    Even Lena couldn¡¯t help but be impressed.

    It was as if Oscar had predicted this situation and was handling it with incredible flexibility.

    "And one more thing. Let¡¯s bribe a few people from the information guild to spread a little rumor."

    "A rumor? What kind of rumor?"

    "M-Zero."

    M-Zero was the name of a male (Male) supplement.

    Oscar lightly tapped his chin as he continued.

    "If a rumor spreads that it also helps with vitality enhancement, won¡¯t that be interesting?"

    "¡­¡­¡­Would that actually boost sales?"

    "Just wait and see."

    Oscar shrugged with a confident smile.

    * * *

    Three weeks flew by in the blink of an eye.

    During that time, Moira Main barely got any sleep, monitoring the potion market''s sales every day.

    And today, she came to a conclusion.

    ''The massive discount promotion by our Blue Tower ended two days ago.

    I¡¯ve been checking the sales charts since then, but White Tower''s potions still haven¡¯t been selling.

    Moreover, the Cadena Flu issue has died down.

    Today, I¡¯m finally certain.

    White Tower will never gain a foothold in the potion market.

    If they really want to, they¡¯ll need at least a decade of long-term investment.

    Of course, even if they decide to invest that long, we could crush them whenever we want.''

    Just as Moira was feeling confident in hisplete victory, the head of the Blue Tower''s potion department personally came to see her.

    "Moira Main."

    "Yes, sir."

    Moira stood up abruptly, clenching her fists.

    She was sure it was praise for driving White Tower out of the potion market.

    But she didn¡¯t let her guard down.

    ¡®Just because I pushed White Tower out doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯vepletely recovered the Blue Tower¡¯s losses. This is only the first hurdle.¡¯

    As she waited with a humble expression for the next words, the department head¡¯s face twisted like crumpled paper.

    "What kind of work have you been doing?"

    "¡­Excuse me?"

    "I¡¯m asking if you sacrificed so much profit just to get these pathetic results!"

    With that, a newspaper was flung at his face.

    Stunned, Moira didn¡¯t even think to rub her stinging nose; she nced at the newspaper that had fallen to the floor.

    On the front page wererge headlines about the White Tower.

    [White Tower Breaks into New Market? Hits Jackpot with Nutritional Supplements.]

    [Zero Series Sells 10 Million Bottles in a Month, Popr Among Families as a Gift Product.]

    [Convenient Home Deliveries: Spotlight on White Tower¡¯s Door-to-Door Sales and Subscription System.]

    [M-Zero for Men: Surprising Effects on Vitality, Leading to Shortages.]

    [White Tower¡¯s Sess Story: From Cadena Flu Remedy to Nutritional Supplements.]

    [Alchemist Genius Oscar Crucian¡¯s Remarkable Statement: ¡®Inspired by the Blue Tower¡¯s Generous Discount, the White Tower Vows to Offer Lifetime Discounts on Potions.¡¯]

    "Wha¡­what?"

    Nutritional supplements, not potions?

    White Tower had been selling these all along?

    ¡®No way. How could I not have known¡­ Ah!¡¯

    Moira¡¯s gaze stopped at the phrase "door-to-door sales."

    She realized that the core of this business was face-to-face contracts using the postmen.

    ¡®With this method, sales volumes wouldn¡¯t be recorded in the market data.¡¯

    Since the transactions happened directly on the spot rather than through store inventories, there was no way to track them.

    Understanding the situation atst, Moira Main¡¯s face turned pale.

    The potion department head coldly remarked as he observed her.

    "He even dered that he¡¯d keep selling White Tower¡¯s potions at a lifetime discount."

    Moira Main quickly checked the price they had announced and screamed.

    "That¡¯s tant fraud! This price is exactly what they originally intended to sell at!"

    "Do you think the public knows that? Not a single bottle was supplied to the market until now."

    There were two main reasons why market vendors hadn¡¯t epted White Tower¡¯s potions before:

    One was to avoid the Blue Tower¡¯s displeasure, and the other was the unbelievably low price.

    ¡®¡­Given the situation now, worrying about the Blue Tower¡¯s reaction has be irrelevant.

    Even if it¡¯s a different market, White Tower has already sold 10 million bottles of their supplement, bing a rising star in the potion industry.¡¯

    ¡®Moreover, they¡¯ve crafted a usible justification for the low price, calling it a "lifetime discount."

    It¡¯s clear that White Tower¡¯s potions will soon flood the market.¡¯

    As Moira Main opened and closed her mouth, unable to find words, the potion department head issued a chilling warning.

    "You¡¯ll be very busy from now on."

    "Wh-what?"

    "To recover the losses the Blue Tower suffered, you¡¯ll have to work for the rest of your life without pay, and it still won¡¯t be enough."

    "¡­"

    It was over.

    Moira Main¡¯s face filled with despair.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

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 Chapter 28

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    Chapter 28: The Grand Scheme (1)

    In the eastern part of the continent lies the country of Yeon, a vassal state of the Empire ruled by its own independent king.

    Amid the dense forests of thisnd that upholds traditional culture, a gigantic monster was rampaging.

    "Rooooar!"

    Its bloodshot eyes darted wildly, and saliva dribbled from its mouth.

    Clearly, it was not in a normal state.

    "We only need to hold out until the reinforcements from the Empire arrive! Victory will be ours then!"

    "Even sword qi can¡¯t leave a scratch on that thing. Be careful not to get too close!"

    A group of warriors, their colorful robes billowing, pursued the monster from behind.

    They avoided direct confrontation, instead trying to steer its path away from heading towards the marketce.

    "Sniff... sniff..."

    Suddenly, the monster changed its course, as if it had caught a scent.

    "Oh no!"

    It would reach arge vige if it ran for just a quarter of an hour in that direction.

    The face of themander leading the warriors turned pale as he urgently shouted.

    "Deploy the Nine Dragons Storm Formation! We cannot let it go that way!"

    "Yes, sir!"

    Instantly, a sharp aura emanated from the swords of the warriors encircling the monster.

    In Yeon, this technique was known as sword qi.

    Commander Jongcheon swallowed nervously.

    ¡®Since ancient times, formations were devised as a way for multiple warriors to confront an enemy too strong for them to handle alone...¡¯

    Yet, he couldn''t shake the doubt gnawing at him as he looked at the monstrous creature asrge as a house.

    Could a formation designed to fight humans be effective against such a beast?

    His fears were soon realized.

    "Graaaah!"

    "Urgh!"

    "Guh...!"

    The formation of nine top-tier martial artists was shattered in an instant by a single charge from the monster.

    It was an overwhelming difference in size and a fundamental disparity in nature.

    The raw brutality of survival of the fittest became evident, and themander¡¯s face turned to despair.

    "I¡¯ve found it."

    Amidst the tension in the forest, a small woman appeared, almost as if she had dropped from the sky.

    Ignoring the overwhelming pressure emanating from the monster, which was five times her size, she calmly spoke.

    "Even now, if you go back to your territory, I¡¯ll let this slide."

    "Rooooar!"

    As if in response, the monster uprooted a whole tree and charged at her.

    Its massive frame moved with surprising swiftness.N?v(el)B\\jnn

    "...If you don¡¯t want to leave peacefully."

    The woman muttered coolly as she pulled back the hood of her white robe.

    "Then I¡¯ll just have to return you to the earth."

    A gentle breeze blew past, ruffling her crimson hair.

    Her unique magic, ¡ºSurging Winds¡».

    "Graaaah!"

    The ogre, sensing the approaching wind, did not stop charging.

    It believed its thick, tough skin, which even sharp des couldn¡¯t prate, would protect it.

    But it was wrong.

    "Gr...?"

    The realization struck only when its left arm, touched by the wind, was sliced off like pudding.

    Before the ogre even had time to feel pain, dozens of gusts of wind cut through its body.

    Where the wind passed, only scattered pieces of the ogre¡¯s once massive form remained.

    "..."

    "..."

    The warriors who witnessed the scene held their breath.

    Could this even be called a battle?

    For a moment, they stood there, stunned by her overwhelming power.

    The woman turned her head.

    "Are you Jongcheon?"

    "I-I apologize for the dyed greeting. I am Jongcheon of the Nine Dragons Sect. Are you perhaps from the White Tower...?"

    "My name is Sasha Maestro. Is this thest of the monsters that invaded Yeon?"

    Despite her youthful appearance, she spoke with the tone of an overworked office employee.

    "Ah, yes! That¡¯s correct. I have no idea how an imperial monster managed to cross the border. I¡¯ve heard this species rarely leaves its territory."

    Jongcheon scratched his head, looking puzzled as he nced at the ogre¡¯s corpse.

    Sasha fell into thought.

    ¡®...These incidents have been happening more frequentlytely.¡¯

    Since a few months ago, strange, unnatural events had been urring across the continent.

    Even the imperial family was in chaos, unable to find the cause.

    "I don¡¯t know either. Please deposit the payment into the Empire¡¯s bank ount."

    "Of course. It will be done by today."

    As Sasha dusted off her white robe, she asked,

    "And did you bring what I requested from your sect leader?"

    "Ah, yes! Here it is."

    Jongcheon hastily pulled an envelope from his pocket and respectfully handed it over.

    It was an imperial newsletter she hadn¡¯t been able to ess for the past two months.

    "The sect leader mentioned that the West has been buzzing with news about the White Towertely."

    "What?"

    Sasha¡¯s face darkened instantly.

    Given the current situation at the White Tower, any news article would likely be bad.

    She stared at the sealed envelope with aplicated expression.

    ¡®...I¡¯m afraid to read it.¡¯

    For a brief moment, the worst scenarios shed through her mind.

    What if the White Tower had copsed during the two months she had been away?

    Or what if it had been permanently expelled from the Four Great Towers?

    ¡®I wouldn¡¯t be able to face my master even in death.¡¯

    Sasha gulped nervously, pushing away her fears as she opened the envelope to read the news.

    [The White Tower makes unprecedented breakthrough: A cure for the Cadena gue captures the attention of the imperial family.]

    "?!"

    As soon as she read the first sentence, question marks popped up over her head.

    ''...Is there a pharmaceuticalpany called the White Tower, by any chance?''

    Of course not.

    As far as she knew, there was only one ''Sirin''s White Tower'' on the continent.

    Sasha blinked her eyes.

    ''So, you''re telling me that our Magic Tower developed a cure for the Cadena Flu?''

    Why?

    More than that, who did it and how?

    Her expression turned sour as she carefully read the news.

    ''...Oh, it says Oscar did it?''

    A child once hailed as an unparalleled genius who shook the continent.

    The memory of the day he came to the White Tower, having lost his entire family in an ident, was still vivid.

    A child burdened with the expectations of adults, discarded and treated like a worthless item despite his wishes.

    Perhaps because of this, she recalled his lifeless, empty eyes that had lost all color even at such a young age.

    ''He''s finally filled that emptiness with color.''

    A warm smile appeared on Sasha''s lips.

    ''I knew he would aplish something someday. He was always so smart.''

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    As she read the follow-up articles, her expression gradually hardened.

    ''...Huh? He even revived a ruined herbal farm? And caught Gunman Jack in the process?''

    ''Not only did he develop the cure, but he also seeded in restoring potions. However, the Blue Tower will inevitably try to interfere, so establishing his position won''t be easy...''

    ''Wait, what''s this about nutritional supplements? They''ve sold, uh, ten million bottles in just a month!?''

    As she read on, she could hardly tell if this was a dream or reality.

    She always knew about Oscar''s genius, but she never imagined he would aplish so much.

    After pondering for a moment, she asked Jongcheon.

    "Excuse me."

    "Yes, ma''am."

    "Is this some kind of novel?"

    "...Pardon?"

    "I mean, did someone write this story to make me feel good? Like a made-up tale."

    Jongcheon shook his head firmly, as if such a thing was impossible.

    "Certainly not. I believe this is aption of the Empire''s recent news."

    "Hmm."

    She wondered if she could take these reports at face value.

    After all, the article mentioned that door-to-door sales were now being re-evaluated for their effectiveness, even contributing to the sess of delivery services.

    ''Why is this business even doing well?''

    Although she had started it herself, she never had any optimistic expectations that the delivery business would seed.

    To be more precise, she never intended for this business to seed ''at this point in time.''

    Within the grand painting the artist Sasha crafted, the delivery business''s true purposey elsewhere.

    ''What on earth is happening at the White Tower right now?''

    Unable to hold back her curiosity any longer, she hurriedly prepared to leave.

    Oscar Crucian.

    She wanted to see with her own eyes what kind of magic this entric genius had conjured.

    * * * * *

    "I believe it now. You really are a magician."

    Oscar looked puzzled at Lena White''s words.

    "...What do you mean, suddenlying here and saying that?"

    "I mean, this situation feels like real magic. How did you manage to shake the massive ship that is the Blue Tower with just a single interview? Honestly, it''s still hard for me to believe."

    Just as she said, Oscar had cornered the Blue Tower with nothing but a single interview.

    He did this without belittling or humiliating the opponent, thus avoiding creating a negative image.

    Instead, he praised and showed respect, cultivating the image of a humble neer.

    It was a perfect example of a wless victory.

    "Thanks to that, the sales of the healing potion have taken off."

    "That''s good. How are people responding?"

    "There are already floods of inquiries about when the potion will be avable in their cities. It seems the promise of selling the potion at a permanently discounted price hit the mark."

    "Just as expected."

    Using quality ingredients to create a highly effective potion and selling it at a low price?

    There was no reason for people not to open their wallets.

    "And I casually mentioned the idea of supplying potions to the military, but their response has been lukewarm so far."

    "They''re probably wondering why they should change their supplier when they''ve had no issues dealing with the Blue Tower until now."

    Oscar, after some thought, spoke up.

    "Leave the military alone for now. There''s no need to provoke the Blue Tower any further in this situation."

    Even a mouse will bite a cat when cornered.

    Especially when the opponent is a tiger.

    Who knows what kind of madness they might resort to if pushed too far.

    "And from now on, don''te to me unless there''s something particrly urgent. Why do you keep reporting to me?"

    "..."

    Because you''re the head of the potion manufacturing department... Lena, at a loss for words, asked again.

    "Then what about performance reports?"

    "Once a month is enough."

    Oscar made this bold decision because he knew the potion department had nothing but growth ahead.

    Besides, Lena White was a capable talent who could handle most problems on her own.

    He couldn''t afford to focus solely on the potion department forever.

    "So you''re just going to leave all the work to me and take it easy for a while?"

    "Take it easy? I''m actually quite busy. I n to delve deeper into theoretical magic."

    The immediate fires had been put out with the tower''s coffers filled.

    Now it was time to strengthen the foundation.

    ''First, I need topile a reference book that''s currently missing in the White Tower.''

    A magic reference book full of tips that would be perfect for White Tower mages to read.

    It would include things like the ''Oscar Method'' as a prime example.

    ''Creating the reference book itself won''t be too hard.

    All I have to do is transfer the knowledge in my head onto paper.''

    The problem was how to publish it.

    ''...Even if young Oscar was a genius, it might seem odd for him to suddenly release such high-level theories.''

    Pondering various ways, Oscar let out a deep sigh.

    ''Ah, if only a person like that would just appear out of nowhere.''

    An experienced mage with seniority, reputation, and extensive knowledge of theoretical magic.

    As he rubbed his chin, lost in deep thought.

    "...Phew. I can''t remember thest time I saw sunlight."

    The third elder of the White Tower.

    Schwein Koch emerged from his seclusion in theb for the first time in months.

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 Chapter 29

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    Chapter 29: The Grand Scheme (2)

    White Tower, 2nd Floor, Cafeteria

    A deep sigh escaped into the space where mages came to rest.

    ¡°Whew¡­¡±

    The owner of the sigh was Elder Schwein Koch, a thin, middle-aged man.

    Having spent months confined to hisboratory, this rare excursion had him sighing for one reason alone: he had yet toplete the paper he intended to present at this year¡¯s White Night Festival.

    ¡®The theory is wless, but¡­¡¯

    The magic itself refused to manifest, leaving him utterly exasperated.

    This research had consumed over seven years of his life.

    Now that the finish line seemed within reach, his mind grew all the more restless.

    ¡®The form may be crude and simplistic, but its structure is sound. Which means the issue must lie in the mana calctions.¡¯

    Another, even deeper sigh escaped him.

    Errors in mana values.

    No theoretical mage could ever take such a failure lightly.

    ¡®Looks like I¡¯ll be stuck in theb for months, running endless experiments to pinpoint the precise mana value for the spell form.

    If only I had a fellow theoretical mage to bounce ideas off. Unfortunately, no one of that caliber is within my reach.¡¯

    He cast a predatory gaze across the cafeteria, scanning the seated mages like a professor seeking prey.

    For a moment, those in his line of sight shuddered, unsure why they felt a sudden chill.

    His gaze, however, turned quizzical.

    ¡®¡­Something¡¯s different about them, isn¡¯t it?¡¯

    What was it?

    The mages no longer looked disheveled.

    Once, their robes¡ªwhether postal uniforms or White Tower robes¡ªwere frayed and worn.

    They often looked so ragged that Schwein used to wonder if they were beggars or mages, feeling uneasy about the ambiguity.

    But now, their attire was pristine enough to present proudly anywhere.

    Even the facilities and furnishings inside the White Tower seemed newly upgraded, gleaming with cleanliness.

    ¡®New uniforms? Renovations? But where would the Tower find the funds for that?¡¯

    As he blinked, puzzling over these changes, two familiar faces passed him by.

    ¡°Huh? Isn¡¯t that Elder Schwein?¡±

    ¡°When did you get out of theb?¡±

    Carrying iced coffee, Maxim and Fidelina recognized him.

    Schwein greeted them as they naturally took seats across from him.

    ¡°Maxim, Fidelina. Long time no see.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯s the researching along? It seems like you¡¯ve surfaced sooner than usual¡ªonly a few months this time.¡±

    ¡°Why even ask? If it was going well, he wouldn¡¯t look like that.¡±

    ¡°¡­I have no rebuttal.¡± n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    Schwein sighed deeply before exining his predicament.

    Maxim spoke first.

    ¡°Let me get this straight¡ªyou¡¯d like a partner to coborate with on your research?¡±

    ¡°Do you have someone in mind?¡±

    ¡°No way. My brain¡¯s too rusty, and theoretical magic isn¡¯t even my field.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not into theoretical magic either. Managing money is more my thing.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Schwein swallowed the urge to retort, Then why not work in finance instead of the Tower?

    Instead, Maxim continued.

    ¡°But I do know someone I¡¯d rmend.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely. They¡¯re talented¡ªI even gained some insight just by sitting in on one of their lectures.¡±

    ¡°Come to think of it¡­¡±

    Schwein examined Maxim more closely.

    Though he hadn¡¯t yet reached the 8th level, his mana aura seemed deeper and more refined.

    ¡°Congrattions. The Tower might be celebrating a promotion soon.¡±

    ¡°Haha, I¡¯m not there yet.¡±

    ¡°You mentioned lectures¡ªso they¡¯re a professor? Who are they?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re not a professor, but you know them well. It¡¯s Oscar Crucian.¡±

    At the name, Schwein let out a smallugh.

    ¡°Your jokes have improved during my absence. You¡¯re rmending him knowing what kind of magic I¡¯m researching? Oscar may be a prodigy, but he¡¯s just exceptional for his age. This isn¡¯t the kind of work a mere Level 1 mage couldprehend.¡±

    ¡°Why not give him a chance? He¡¯s too unique to measure by levels alone.¡±

    ¡°And by the way, he¡¯s now Level 2,¡±

    Fidelina added with a sly grin.

    ¡°Come to think of it, you¡¯ve been cooped up in yourb and missed all the news, haven¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°¡­Missed what?¡±

    ¡°Look around. Doesn¡¯t it feel like something¡¯s changed?¡±

    ¡°Ah, that. I¡¯ve noticed it.¡±

    Schwein voiced his earlier suspicions.

    ¡°What exactly happened? Did someone win the lottery?¡±

    ¡°Lottery¡­ well, in a sense, yes.¡±

    A lottery wasn¡¯t always about scratch-off tickets.

    Anything that hit big could be called a lottery.

    ¡°And it¡¯s all thanks to Oscar Crucian and his unleashed potential.¡±

    ¡°¡­What do you mean by that?¡±

    ¡°Hah, you really had to see it to believe it. It all started when Oscar had a near-death experience¡­¡±

    With a delighted expression, the chatty Fidelina began recounting the tale.

    The story began with Oscar¡¯s brush with death and his miraculous recovery.

    ¡°After that, he changedpletely. I could tell at a nce¡ªhe finally broke out of his shell.¡±

    ¡°Funny,ing from someone who initially refused to fund his potion business.¡±

    ¡°T-that was just to test his determination!¡±

    ¡°Your boy, huh? When did he be yours? I was the one who first recognized his potential, back when he cast Wind Shield right after waking up¡­¡±

    Halfway through their recounting, the two began bickering over who had first seen Oscar¡¯s true worth.

    Growing exasperated, Schwein interjected.

    ¡°Enough. Finish the story already.¡±

    And so, the tale continued, causing Schwein¡¯s expression to shift several times.

    ¡°Hmm. So Oscar Crucian mastered alchemy.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not just that¡ªhis sales methods are exceptionally sophisticated.¡±

    ¡°Not to mention his magic lectures. He exins everything so clearly it¡¯s like listening to a high-level mage.¡±

    For the first time, these two pr opposites were united in their praise for someone.

    Naturally, Schwein couldn¡¯t help but grow intrigued by this ¡°transformed¡± Oscar Crucian.

    ¡°Hm. If you both rmend him so strongly, I suppose I¡¯ll meet him.¡±

    Still, he didn¡¯t expect much.

    Level 1¡ªor rather, now Level 2¡ªmages couldn¡¯t possibly grasp the advanced research he was working on.

    ¡®It¡¯s not a matter of underestimating Oscar. It¡¯s just a structural inevitability.

    Looking at the same object, the perspective from the ground floor is fundamentally different from the view from the rooftop.

    No matter how gifted he is, a Level 2 mage¡¯s perspective has its limits.¡¯

    Moreover, Schwein¡¯s research wasn¡¯t ordinary.

    He was working to reconstruct the unique magic of none other than the Archmage, the ¡°Mage of Mages,¡± Oscar Sage.

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    * * *

    Hearing the announcement, Oscar arrived at Schwein¡¯sb and blinked.

    ¡°It¡¯s been a while. How have you been?¡±

    ¡­Who was this?

    Seeing him hesitate, Schwein nodded as if recalling something.

    ¡°Ah, I remember now. You mentioned your memory isn¡¯t intact.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sorry. I have amnesia.¡±

    It was a lie so well-practiced it no longer pricked his conscience.

    Schwein, who had been looking at him with a hint of pity, spoke again.

    "Don''t worry. My name is Schwein Koch, and I hold a position as an Elder of the White Tower. My specialty is theoretical magic, and my main job is to restore lost spells."

    "...!"

    A theoretical mage!

    Oscar''s eyes widened at those words.

    ¡®An experienced mage with status and renown, highly knowledgeable in theoretical magic¡­? And even working on restoring lost spells?¡¯

    He was everything Oscar had been hoping for in a mentor.

    "In any case, I have a study I''m nning to present at this year''s White Night Festival. Butpleting it alone seems difficult."

    "You''re looking for a research assistant."

    "Precisely."

    It wasn¡¯t just a good proposal¡ªit was exactly what Oscar had been wishing for.

    ¡®If I help with the research, the restoration process will speed up dramatically. And people will naturally credit Elder Schwein for the restoration. No one would think a mere Level 2 mage yed a significant role.¡¯

    Having formed a perfect n in his mind, Oscar nodded.

    "It would be an honor to participate in your research, Elder."

    "Thank you for saying so. Though it may be strange to make such a request at this point, would you mind taking a simple test first?"

    "Of course. It¡¯s only logical to assess someone''s abilities before coborating."

    "Indeed!"

    Moved by his response, Schwein pped his hands.

    "What amendable attitude. I genuinely hope you pass the test."

    "I¡¯ll do my best to solve the problems."

    "Here you go. Just solve the problems on this test sheet. You¡¯ll have 50 minutes."

    Oscar took the test sheet and sat down, quickly working through the problems.

    Most involved identifying errors in mana forms or correcting mistakes.

    A few were more advanced, such as calcting mana values for specific forms.

    ''This is easy.''

    Most of the problems were at a level that a Level 5 or 6 theoretical mage could handle without much trouble.

    Just from the test''s difficulty, Oscar could infer what kind of assistant Schwein was looking for.

    ¡®A researcher to catch basic errors, huh? Seems like the core research is mostlyplete, and they¡¯re just finalizing calctions or validating results.¡¯

    While Oscar worked calmly through the test, Schwein tilted his head as he watched.

    The speed at which Oscar was solving the problems was astonishing.

    ¡®...Even most Level 5 theoretical mages couldn¡¯t solve them this quickly.¡¯

    It seemed unlikely that someone of low rank would have the advanced reasoning and understanding required for this.

    Schwein sighed inwardly.

    ¡®Is he just scribbling answers out of frustration because he can¡¯t solve them? If that¡¯s the case, I can only fail him.¡¯

    Despite his disappointment, Schwein waited quietly for Oscar to finish.

    ¡®Hmm?¡¯

    Suddenly, Oscar¡¯s pen paused for the first time.

    It was on thest question, which was far more difficult than the others.

    But Oscar hadn¡¯t stopped because it was hard.

    ¡®Isn¡¯t this the spell I created?¡¯

    He paused only because he recognized it.

    It was a spell he had developed during a special project with the imperial family¡ªa project so longpleted that he¡¯d almost forgotten about it.

    ¡®How did this spell¡¯s details survive? If not, they wouldn¡¯t have used it for a question.¡¯

    Without hesitation, Oscar began writing the answer to the final problem.

    "Hm."

    Seeing this, Schwein¡¯s doubts turned into certainty.

    ¡®Did he just write down the answer without even working through the problem?¡¯

    The final question was a trap designed to make the test-taker fail.

    It asked for the mana value of a form Schwein himself was still researching and hadn¡¯t solved.

    ¡®I just wanted to see how he¡¯d approach it in a coborative setting¡­¡¯

    Schwein couldn¡¯t hide his disappointment as he spoke.

    "Are you finished?"

    "Ah, yes."

    Schwein began grading the test sheet immediately after taking the test sheet.

    "Hmm?"

    He raised an eyebrow at the first page.

    Despite looking like hastily scribbled answers, they were all correct.

    Oscar must have done the calctions mentally.

    ¡®Huh. Even with his reputation as a genius, I didn¡¯t expect this.¡¯

    His disappointment began to fade as he continued grading.

    By the middle of the test, Schwein¡¯s expression had hardened slightly.

    ¡®¡­Did he calcte this one mentally, too? How long did it take him?¡¯

    This problem was challenging enough that only senior professors at magic towers or academies could solve it, and even Schwein himself would need at least two minutes to do so mentally.

    ¡®How extraordinary must his mental calction ability be¡­¡¯

    Awed, Schwein continued grading until he reached thest page, then stopped grading altogether.

    "Pass. Without a doubt, you pass!"

    "...Excuse me?"

    "I¡¯ve been searching for someone like you for so long. Why did you take so long to show up?"

    Oscar smiled at Schwein, who was beaming with joy.

    "Thank you for weing me. But, Elder, don¡¯t you want to check thest page?"

    "Hm? Thest page?"

    It contained a single question about the mana form Schwein was currently researching.

    ¡®Ah, of course, he wants to confirm whether his answer is correct¡ªit was a difficult question, after all.¡¯

    Finding Oscar¡¯s reaction endearing, Schwein nced at thest page.

    "¡­What?"

    His eyes widened as he read the answer.

    "Oscar, you¡¯ve listed four different mana values. Which one is the correct answer?"

    "Ah¡­ all of them. Based on the form''s structure, I thought a single value might cause errors, so I used dynamic mana values. Was that approach incorrect?"

    Dynamic mana calctions?

    Schwein¡¯s jaw dropped at the unexpected response.

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    Chapter 30: The Grand Scheme (3)

    Schwein licked his parched lips and tried to manage his expression.

    Dynamic Mana Calction.

    The concept itself wasn¡¯t unfamiliar or overlyplex.

    After all, he had long concluded that the only solution to this form was through dynamic mana.

    ¡®But it took me two years just to reach that conclusion.¡¯

    Typically, one would try every possible scenario with a single mana value, and only after failing, begin to adjust the mana value for further trials.

    Which meant¡­

    This young magician had simted all possible scenarios instantaneously.

    And without even writing anything down¡ªsolely in his head.

    ¡®Even I haven¡¯t gone beyond experimenting with two adjustments yet.¡¯

    Yet Oscar had written down four values.

    In other words, he was saying the solution required three mana adjustments.

    ¡®Of course, whether these mana values are valid will need further experimentation¡­¡¯

    But the results of the test were indisputable.

    ¡°Impressive. You figured out the concept of dynamic mana calction.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m d. I look forward to working with you.¡±

    As he observed Oscar bowing humbly, Schwein added:

    ¡°However, you won¡¯t just be a simple researcher. You¡¯ll be listed as a co-author for the paper I¡¯ll be presenting at the White Night Festival.¡±

    ¡°What? Why?¡±

    ¡°Because the final problem in this test is rted to the magic I¡¯m currently researching.¡±

    At this, Oscar¡¯s expression turned puzzled.

    It made sense, given how simple that magic appeared to him.

    ¡®He¡¯s going to present that at the White Night Festival? Why?¡¯

    As Oscar cast a questioning nce, Schwein chuckled softly.

    ¡°There¡¯s an old saying: An old book can be a new friend. Do you know what it means?¡±

    ¡°¡­It means that even an old book, when revisited, can yield new insights or discoveries when reinterpreted with modern perspectives, doesn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Exactly. And the magic created by Oscar Sage, the 17th Master of the Magic Tower, is one of those.¡±

    It had been remarkable back then, but now, it was deemed irreceable¡ªat least by someone in the White Tower.

    ¡°Specifically, Lady Sasha thought so. That¡¯s why she immediatelyunched the delivery business.¡±

    ¡°¡­Excuse me?¡±

    Hearing such an unfamiliar piece of history, Oscar blinked in surprise.

    ¡°So you¡¯re saying our youngest¡­ no, our Tower Master, decided to start a delivery business because of this magic?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s correct.¡±

    ¡°¡­What exactly did she see in it?¡±

    Oscar couldn¡¯t understand it.

    How did this magic inspire a delivery business, of all things¡ªa business that hemorrhaged money?

    Watching Oscar¡¯s frustrated expression with amusement, Schwein spoke.

    ¡°As you know, humanity has only recently gained control over 38% of the world¡¯sndmass and 62% of its sea routes.¡±

    But even with all of history scoured, there remains a realm that has not even been 1% conquered.

    Schwein smiled and pointed upwards with his index finger.

    ¡°The skies. What the Tower Master is aiming for is the skies.¡±N?v(el)B\\jnn

    ¡°¡­¡±

    The skies.

    Oscar knew exactly what that meant.

    ¡°So, she wants to build an airship.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. And this magic will serve as the heart, the engine, of that endeavor.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Oscar¡¯s eyes dimmed as he was left speechless.

    ¡®Airship development? I¡¯ve tried that before too.¡¯

    The skies¡ªa vast domain humanity had long yearned to conquer.

    Naturally, all sorts of magic towers and even imperial families had attempted it.

    But he could confidently say that none had seeded.

    ¡°¡­As far as I know, airship operations were abandoned due to their inefficiency.¡±

    ¡°Indeed, your knowledge is sharp. That inefficiency is precisely why the skies remain an unexplored domain.¡±

    Airships had been created several times throughout history.

    The problem was that keeping them afloat required astronomical amounts of mana.

    ¡°Twenty-three years ago, the Empire sessfully developed a massive airship that floated above the clouds for three minutes.¡±

    Oscar nodded, unimpressed.

    He wasn¡¯t surprised¡ªafter all, he had been the supervisor of that very project, Azure Sky.

    ¡°The amount of mana the Empire used for those three minutes of flight was¡­¡±

    ¡°Enough to keep the entire capital lit for a month.¡±

    ¡°Hm? Was that information ever made public?¡±

    ¡°¡­I just guessed it would be something like that.¡±

    ¡°Haha, as expected of a genius!¡±

    As Schwein confirmed, the Empire abandoned the airship project simply because it was economically unviable.

    He could still recall the Emperor¡¯s regretful expression as he ordered the project¡¯s termination.

    ¡®If only airships could have beenpleted and operated at a reasonable cost, they would have given us a tremendous advantage in the war against the Demons.¡¯

    But the project failed, leaving Oscar with deep regret as its supervisor.

    ¡®Back then, I created this magic.¡¯

    A magic capable of generating near-infinite wind with a single mana injection¡ªa magic that defied thew of mana conservation.

    The name he gave it symbolized eternal cirction and infinity: Ouroboros.

    ¡®But the output of that magic was far too insufficient to power an airship.¡¯

    He, more than anyone else, understood this after countless sleepless nights of research.

    Seeing the skepticism on Oscar¡¯s face, Schwein smiled.

    ¡°You seem ready to dismiss it as impossible.¡±

    ¡°To be honest¡­ I don¡¯t think this magic¡¯s wind output is sufficient to lift a massive airship.¡±

    ¡°Haha, you¡¯re right. That¡¯s the lesson humanity learned through bitter failure 23 years ago. But isn¡¯t the situation different now?¡±

    ¡°¡­Different, you say?¡±

    Tap, tap.

    Schwein tapped the magicmp on the desk.

    Watching it intently, Oscar muttered almost unconsciously.

    ¡°¡­Magical engineering.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. Just as Oscar Sage created unique magic during that project, the White Tower gained insights into magical engineering from it. That¡¯s why we¡¯ve seen such remarkable advancements after the war.¡±

    Amplifying Ouroboros¡¯ insufficient output with magical engineering to lift an airship?

    Theoretically, it didn¡¯t seem impossible.

    In fact, it was almost too usible.

    ¡®Magical engineering even includes the concept of batteries.¡¯

    If they could create a battery charged by Ouroboros¡¯ wind, and if that battery could continuously amplify mana, Ouroboros could be the ultimate engine providing infinite power for airships.

    Oscar¡¯s expression changed as he asked,

    "Does the Yellow Tower know about this research by any chance?"

    "Not a chance. Most importantly, they gave up on the concept of airships entirely after their failure 23 years ago. Instead, they''ve started focusing on developing more ''realistic'' means of transportation."

    "Realistic transportation?"

    "They call it a train. I''ve heard they''ve already seeded in experimental runs. It seems their n is to unify the continent with this unstoppable iron horse."

    Oscar wasn''t entirely sure what kind of transportation a "train" was, but he knew one thing: the Yellow Tower''s master was not one to cling to failing ventures.

    Whatever this "train" was, it was likely a new paradigm-shifting form of transportation for humanity.

    ¡®But it won¡¯t be as revolutionary as an airship.¡¯

    That¡¯s when Oscar realized what kind of vision Sasha had been painting all along.

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    "Ah, so that''s why you''ve started that delivery business, even with such enormous losses¡ªit''s all to monopolize the market."

    "Exactly. Current logistics rely solely on carriages and ships. While the introduction of trains will bring change, airship-based delivery will instantly render all of it obsolete."

    An airship that could traverse vast distances at incredible speeds, ignoring geographical barriers, would indeed connect the entire continent.

    Such a breakthrough would naturally bring with it tremendous power.

    "To achieve that, we must firstplete the restoration of this magic. Let¡¯s work together, aiming to unveil this project at the White Night Festival."

    "...If you''re going to aim that high, why not go a step further?"

    "What do you mean?"

    "People prefer tangible results over abstract concepts."

    In other words, showcasing the magic of Ouroboros alone wouldn¡¯t be enough.

    A prototype airship utilizing that magic would have a far greater impact.

    "Unveil a prototype airship at the White Night Festival. Let¡¯s make that our goal."

    * * *

    The research to restore Ouroboros with Elder Schwein progressed rapidly.

    In fact, it had to.

    The mana values Oscar had provided on paper were, without a doubt, correct.

    "Why... how is this even working?"

    Elder Schwein stared in disbelief at the perfectly functional magic.

    A spell that seemed to depict a serpent¡ªor perhaps a dragon¡ªbiting its own tail.

    The shimmering mana particles radiating from Ouroboros sparkled brilliantly, like starlight.

    "..."

    Schwein couldn¡¯t take his eyes off the magic circle, which felt more like a masterpiece of art.

    Joy, exhration, a touch of despair, and overwhelming satisfaction.

    He felt a storm of emotions all at once as he looked at the mage before him and thought:

    ¡®This really is like a lottery. And not just a winning ticket¡ªthis is hitting the jackpot over and over again.¡¯

    With momentum on their side, the two began refining the imperfections in the form.

    "Hmm. It seems the newly added Weyler Equation is causing a drop in magic output, doesn¡¯t it?"

    "You''re right. But if we remove that part, the stability would be significantlypromised. Considering the magic''s purpose is to operate an airship, prioritizing safety over output seems wiser."

    "Fair point. In that case, wouldn¡¯t it be better to redesign the entire structure in parallel rather than serial format, even if it makes the form moreplex?"

    "Oh? That does sound better. Especially since we¡¯ll eventually integrate it with magi-tech. There¡¯s no need to cling to the old serial structure anymore."

    It was clear Schwein had spent a long time pondering both Ouroboros and airships.

    His keen eye caught details Oscar, still unfamiliar with magi-tech, would have missed.

    Thanks to this synergy, the magic waspleted in just one week.

    * * *

    "Over the past few days, I¡¯ve found myself wondering..."

    As he gazed at the glowing magic circle, Schwein spoke with a pensive tone.

    "If I hadn¡¯t met you, would I ever havepleted this research on my own?"

    "You would have."

    It wasn¡¯t mere ttery.

    Elder Schwein was a genius in theoretical magic, after all.

    But without Oscar, how long it might have taken would have been anyone''s guess.

    "Thank you for saying that. And... I¡¯m sorry."

    Schwein hesitated to meet Oscar¡¯s eyes as he continued.

    "If the Yellow Tower finds out about this research, they¡¯ll do whatever it takes to stop us. I dragged you into this dangerous endeavor out of my own greed, and for that, I owe you an apology."

    "Oh,e on, it¡¯s no big deal."

    Oscar waved his hand dismissively, but Schwein''s expression turned serious.

    "You¡¯re underestimating the situation. They won¡¯t hesitate to get blood on their hands for their gain."

    "I know. But seriously, I¡¯m fine."

    Oscar shrugged, crossing his arms.

    "If they do find out, they¡¯llunch every kind of interference possible. Publicly, they''ll file dozens ofwsuits under flimsy pretenses. Behind the scenes, they won¡¯t hesitate to send assassins after the two of us."

    "And you¡¯re still saying you¡¯re fine with that?"

    Schwein stared at him, searching for the meaning behind his words.

    Oscar met his gaze without flinching.

    "Yes. If we let fear of the Yellow Tower or concern for our lives dictate our actions, we¡¯ll find endless reasons not to act. And in the end, we¡¯ll aplish nothing. That¡¯s what scares me more: doing nothing and leaving the White Tower forever trapped in its current state, a hollow shell of itself."

    Life is a constant struggle andpetition.

    Those who flee from the harshness of reality will find no paradise awaiting them.

    The more you bow your head, the more the other side offers not a helping hand but a cruel kick.

    "We were too weak to keep the Blue Tower from taking over the potion market. Too weak to stop the Red Tower from monopolizing military contracts. And now we¡¯re so weak that we can¡¯t even conduct research without worrying about the Yellow Tower."

    Oscar looked up at the magic, sparkling like a cluster of stars.

    "I believe this research will give us the strength to stand against them."

    "..."

    Schwein silently stared at him, his eyes filled with pride and gratitude.

    A faint smile tugged at the elder''s lips as he spoke.

    "This is frustrating. All the cool lines are yours."

    "You''re plenty cool without needing to say anything like that, Elder."

    "Ha! Why didn¡¯t I notice how amusing you were before?"

    Schwein walked to his desk, opened a secure drawer, and pulled out a stack of papers.

    "Still, I do have my pride. I can¡¯t let you hog all the glory alone."

    "...What¡¯s all that?"

    The dozens of documents were filled with forms unfamiliar to Oscar.

    Noting his puzzled expression, Schwein chuckled.

    "Finally, a bit of humanity in you. These are documents on creating a magi-tech battery. Honestly, when you suggested unveiling an airship at the White Night Festival, I thought it was impossible. But since Ouroboros came together faster than expected, it¡¯s worth a serious attempt."

    Tapping the stack of papers, Schwein added,

    "I¡¯ll do whatever it takes toplete the battery that will interact with Ouroboros. So don¡¯t worry about that."

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    Chapter 31: Magic Power nt (1)

    Drip.

    Pouring steaming coffee into a cup, Oscar gazed at the night view of Sirin.

    "¡­Not bad."

    It had been four weeks since Fran secluded himself in the closed wing.

    The world had entered November, transitioning fully into winter.

    Snow was due any day now.

    While people were busy preparing for the season, Oscar''s life could only be described as perfect.N?v(el)B\\jnn

    Ever since waking up in the small body of Oscar, he had been enjoying the most peaceful days he had ever known.

    ¡®With continuous training, my stamina has significantly improved, and potions and supplements are selling like hotcakes. My students are keeping up with the curriculum.¡¯

    As for the airship development, there was little he could do until Elder Schweinpleted the battery.

    Everything was running smoothly.

    ¡®And if nothing major happens, I should soon reach Level 3.¡¯

    The existing circuits were settling well enough for him to consider installing new ones.

    ¡°Everything¡¯s just perfect.¡±

    As he admired the breathtaking night view with a contented smile¡­

    Whirrrrr.

    Suddenly, not only the lights in his room but the entire city of Sirin plunged into darkness.

    "¡­"

    Aplete ckout.

    But Oscar, used to such situations, calmly sipped his coffee.

    After a moment, as expected, light returned to the buildings and streets of the city.

    Even the bulb attached to his ceiling flickered a few times before glowing brightly again.

    ¡®This has been happening a lottely.¡¯

    Oscar silently looked up at the bulb.

    Power outages had be increasinglymon in both the Magic Tower and the city.

    ¡®Could we be running low on magic stones?¡¯

    Magic stones were a type of energy source¡ªstones imbued with magical energy.

    Since the advent of the age of grand magical engineering, the consumption of magic stones had significantly increased.

    The city needed to remain lit, and countless appliances and facilities required magic.

    ¡®In the past, maybe we couldn¡¯t afford magic stones, but not anymore.¡¯

    Although vine sales had plummeted, the potion and supplement sales were climbing steadily.

    The White Tower also used Sirius Trading Company¡¯s distributionwork, so there were no dys in magic stone supplies.

    ¡®Besides, Sirin has its own magic power nt.¡¯

    In other words, the city could sustain itself for a while without purchasing additional magic stones.

    Yet the frequent disruptions in power suggested there was a reason.

    And Oscar had a suspicion.

    ¡®Compared to the past, the city¡¯s overall magic consumption has skyrocketed.¡¯

    Streetlights lined the streets, and every home had at least a few magicalmps.

    Refrigerators, in particr, were notorious energy guzzlers.

    ¡®Not to mention, Sirin¡¯s recovering economy has led to a surge in travelers¡­¡¯

    Perhaps the power nt was struggling to meet the growing demand.

    * * *

    ¡°We¡¯ve been having far too many power outagestely.¡±

    That was the first thing Deputy Tower Master Hamel said.

    Oscar nodded in agreement.

    ¡°True. At least once every two days, it seems.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. That¡¯s why I think it¡¯s time to clean the power nt.¡±

    ¡°...You mean slimes?¡±

    Slimes were monsters with a natural tendency to gather where magical energy was abundant.

    Although weak enough for a Level 1 mage to handle, inrge numbers, they could damage facilities.

    ¡°Yes. Due to ack of manpower, the area around the power nt has likely be overrun with slimes. Clearing them out should stabilize the power supply.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound too difficult. When do we leave?¡±

    ¡°Tomorrow morning at 9. Meet Veronica at the tower entrance.¡±

    ¡°¡­Veronica Fricks?¡±

    Sending a Level 4 mage like her for a simple cleanup seemed excessive.

    ¡®She¡¯s probably being sent as a safeguard, just in case.¡¯

    While unlikely anything would happen during a slime cleanup, caution never hurt.

    Oscar nodded.

    ¡°Understood.¡±

    * * *

    The next morning, a carriage awaited at the tower entrance, along with Veronica.

    Oscar greeted her with a casual wave.

    ¡°Good morning.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Dark circles under her eyes, she barely nced at him before speaking.

    ¡°Before we leave, let me warn you. This isn¡¯t a ssroom.¡±

    ¡°Of course not. We¡¯re heading to the power nt.¡±

    ¡°No, I mean¡­ I¡¯m in charge of this mission. While you may know a bit more about magic theory, I have far more field experience.¡±

    ¡®Actually, I have far more of that too.¡¯

    But Oscar got her point.

    ¡°So, you¡¯re saying not to y teacher outside the ssroom?¡±

    ¡°Exactly.¡±

    ¡°Got it.¡±

    Oscar shrugged and climbed into the carriage.

    He had no intention of acting as a leader on this trivial errand.

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Veronica followed, sitting across from him, donning an eye mask, and crossing her arms¡ªa clear signal not to disturb her.

    ¡®But I can¡¯t let this chance slip by.¡¯

    The small Oscar had repeatedly described her as a mage with ¡°extraordinary talent.¡±

    Now was the perfect time to find out why.

    ¡°Ahem.¡±

    Oscar broke the ice.

    ¡°You look exhausted. Didn¡¯t sleep at allst night?¡±

    ¡°If I look it, shut up. I need to rest.¡±

    ¡°Someone with your field experience wouldn¡¯t be nervous over something like this¡­ So, was it a good novel?¡±

    ¡°¡­Do I look like a child?¡±

    Veronica growled softly as Oscar smirked.

    A mage¡¯s sleeplessness was usually caused by one thing.

    ¡°So¡­ Stuck on something magical? Want some help?¡±

    ¡°I told you. This isn¡¯t a ssroom.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough. Just thought it was a shame to leave an open path untouched.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Her ears twitched at that.

    In truth, Veronica had been feeling increasingly stucktely.

    ¡®It¡¯s all because of that irritating guy¡¯s lecture¡­¡¯

    The reason was none other than the burning, powerful gust she had witnessed during one of the lessons.

    ¡®I need to master that kind of magic.¡¯

    But no matter how much she tried, her own magked that intensity.

    That¡¯s why she had been training tirelessly, unable to sleep at nighttely.

    ''¡­If you think about it, the reason I haven¡¯t been sleeping is all because of him.''

    So asking about the meaning of what he just said wasn¡¯t seeking instruction but a rightful reward.

    Veronica slid her eye patch up slightly, sending him a sullen re.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

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    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°That thing you said earlier about going far around or whatever¡ªwhat does it mean?¡±

    ¡°Oh, that?¡±

    Oscar struggled to hold back hisughter.

    It felt like a stray cat, who used to run away at the slightest approach, was cautiously inching closer first.

    He waved the treat enthusiastically.

    ¡°If your magic has been blocked recently, it must be because of the nature of mana we discussed in thest lesson. Am I right?¡±

    ¡°...Yeah.¡±

    Veronica nodded lightly and continued.

    ¡°I want wind that¡¯s intense and scorching like Elder Maxim¡¯s, but no matter how much I practice, I can¡¯t seem to imbue the wind with that kind of nature.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s only natural. That kind of wind doesn¡¯t suit you.¡±

    ¡°....Doesn¡¯t suit me?¡±

    Her brows furrowed.

    ¡°You¡¯re saying that because you don¡¯t know me. I¡¯ve always wanted and used that kind of intense wind.¡±

    ¡°Sometimes, others¡¯ perspectives are more urate. For example, what kind of wind do you think I handle?¡±

    ¡°...Arrogant and annoying wind.¡±

    At her words, Oscar chuckled heartily and shook his head.

    ¡°Wrong. Sorry, but my wind is famous for being incredibly warm and cozy.¡±

    ¡°Famous, my foot. I¡¯ve never heard anyone say that.¡±

    Well, maybe not now.

    But back in the day, he used to hear it so often it became tiresome.

    ¡°Veronica, do you think you¡¯re good at reading people?¡±

    ¡°Better than most people my age.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not. From what I¡¯ve observed, you tend to see only what you want to see in others.¡±

    ¡°...What are you, a psychologist? Stop with the nonsense and get to the point about magic.¡±

    Before her mood soured further, Oscar gave her a clear answer.

    ¡°The nature of mana isn¡¯t about finding what you want. It¡¯s about discovering what¡¯s most true to you.¡±

    ¡°Most true to me¡­?¡±

    After that, Veronica fell into deep thought and didn¡¯t speak again until the carriage arrived at their destination.

    * * *

    ¡°We¡¯ve arrived, mages¡±

    The carriage stopped after a seven-hour journey.

    Looking at Veronica¡¯s heavy expression, Oscar asked cautiously.

    ¡°Still stuck on it? Want me to help?¡±

    ¡°Buzz off.¡±

    At her cold reaction, Oscar gave a satisfied look.

    If she had asked for help, he would have been disappointed.

    Mages are solitary by nature.

    It¡¯s a profession where relying solely on others¡¯ teachings will never lead to greatness.

    ''To truly master magic, one must think, experiment, fail, and seed on their own.''

    Seemingly more frustrated than when she got into the carriage, Veronica stuffed her hands in her pockets and spoke casually.

    ¡°Let¡¯s just finish the job. I¡¯ll think about it more after we¡¯re done.¡±

    As they approached the power nt, they found slimes swarming the area, particrly near the iron fence surrounding the exterior.

    ¡°Ugh, no wonder the mana keeps cutting out if the power nt is in this state.¡±

    The slimes, which typically prefer dark and damp ces, were wandering even in the zing sunlight.

    With a faint sigh, Veronica waved her hand as if shooing flies away.

    ''Wind Press.''

    Boom! Crunch!

    Compressed air ttened dozens of slimes like dough in an instant.

    Witnessing the sight, Oscar let out a soft whistle of admiration.

    ''Wow¡­ impressive.''

    Now he understood why young Oscar held her in high regard.

    ''A speed-mage casting at hyper-speed. Quite thebination.''

    Wind Press was an intermediate-level spell.

    Even a level-five mage would need at least seven seconds of concentration toplete it.

    That she cast it so quickly was thanks to the blessed talent of hyper-speed incantation.

    ''She could be trained as a spell shooter like Majiro.''

    Majiro Wilson.

    In his previous life, he was a mage known as the ¡°Strategic Genius¡± of the White Tower.

    His rapid-fire spell bombardments were so overwhelming that even high-ranking demons couldn¡¯t approach him.

    There were a few personal concerns he had, but for now, he decided to keep observing her.

    At that moment, Veronica turned toward him with a scowl.

    ¡°Hey, am I the only one working here? Are you on vacation or something?¡±

    ¡°¡­Fine, I¡¯ll take the right side.¡±

    It took the two of them a full hour to deal with the sheer number of slimes underfoot.

    After circling the power nt¡¯s exterior, Veronica muttered.

    ¡°At least they¡¯re mostly clustered near the entrance. The exterior cleanup should be enough. Let¡¯s head inside.¡±

    As they entered the power nt, dim red lights lined the hallway walls at regr intervals.

    Of course, the slimes were crawling all over the corridors as well.

    They clung not only to the floor but also to the walls and ceiling, making it feel like stepping into a whale¡¯s insides.

    ¡°Ugh, disgusting.¡±

    Wearing a grimace, Veronica swiftly cleared the path forward.

    Then, suddenly, Oscar knelt on one knee and stared intently at a slime crawling toward him.

    Watching him, Veronica asked.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡±

    ¡°¡­Something seems off.¡±

    ¡°Off? What¡¯s off?¡±

    ¡°Slimes don¡¯t usually move around this much. Once they¡¯ve consumed enough mana, they usually find a dark, damp spot to sleep for days on end.¡±

    Oscar looked up and asked her.

    ¡°You said earlier that the slimes were mostly gathered near the entrance, right?¡±

    ¡°¡­That¡¯s what I said. Why?¡±

    ¡°Look at the path they¡¯re taking.¡±

    The slimes filling the hallway were all moving without exception¡ªtoward the entrance.

    Oscar stared into the darkness beyond the corridor and murmured.

    ¡°They¡¯re all heading for the entrance, as if they¡¯re trying to get as far away from something as possible.¡±

    ¡°What nonsense. Slimes don¡¯t have intelligence. They just live however they feel like.¡±

    ¡°Precisely because theyck intelligence, they¡¯re even more driven by instinct. And the strongest instinct of all is the instinct for survival.¡±

    ¡°¡­So what? Are you saying there¡¯s some terrifying monster beyond that hallway?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what we¡¯re about to find out.¡±

    Rising to his feet, Oscar said,

    ¡°Let¡¯s pick up the pace.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡­Don¡¯t order me around outside the ssroom.¡±

    Though she grumbled, Veronica sped up as well.

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 Chapter 32

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    Chapter 32: Magic Power nt (2)

    The moment the two of them sprinted down the hallway and reached the power room, what greeted them was a massive cocoon emanating a soft green glow.

    Its surface was smooth like silk yet appeared incredibly sturdy, pulsing rhythmically like a beating heart.

    Veronica, staring at it in a trance, murmured under her breath.

    ¡°...What is that?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the cocoon of a white Jam, also known as the Heavenly Silkworm¡ªa type of moth.¡±

    ¡°A moth?¡±

    She asked, unable to tear her eyes away from the cocoon.

    ¡°Just to rify, it¡¯s not hatched yet, right?¡±

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s not so much unhatched as it is in the middle of its metamorphosis.¡±

    Unlike ordinary silkworms that feed on mulberry leaves, the White Jam consumes mana.

    Even now, strands of silk extending from the cocoon were connected to mana cores all over the power nt.

    ¡°It seems we¡¯ve found the reason why the city has been experiencing frequent mana outagestely.¡±

    ¡°Alright. So, do you have any other useful information?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s one piece of good news and one piece of bad news.¡±

    ¡°...Let¡¯s hear the good news first.¡±

    Oscar shrugged.

    ¡°The good news is that the Heavenly Silkworm during metamorphosis isn¡¯t particrly dangerous. If we bring Elder Maxim here, this situation could be wrapped up in five seconds t.¡±

    ¡°What? Then why were you trying to scare me... No, why did I freak out? What¡¯s the bad news?¡±

    ¡°The bad news is, once itpletes its transformation, it¡¯ll be starving and will devour all living creatures around it.¡±

    ¡°Then we just need to bring the Elder here before that happens. Doesn¡¯t sound all that bad to me.¡±

    ¡°Well,¡±

    Oscar said, beginning to take off his white robe,

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t done talking.¡±

    ¡°If the slimes were so desperate to escape, it means the metamorphosis is almostplete.¡±

    Rip!

    At that moment, a foreboding sound came from the direction of the cocoon.

    Veronica tensed up.

    ¡°...I just heard something really unsettling. What was that?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the sound of it forcibly tearing through its silk from the inside, looks like it¡¯s losing its mind over the scent of fresh prey.¡±

    The fresh prey himself, now calmly folding his robe and cing it on the ground, muttered,

    ¡°Prepare for battle.¡±

    Rip! Rip! Screech!

    The cocoon, known for its incredible durability, was shredding like paper.

    Suddenly, two pairs of enormous wings unfolded.

    ¡°...What the hell? It¡¯s way too big!¡±

    Veronica screamed, then asked,

    ¡°But it¡¯s still a silkworm moth, right? That means it can¡¯t fly, right? Silkworm moths can¡¯t fly!¡±

    ¡°Well,¡±

    Oscar said, casually recalling his knowledge,

    ¡°Normal silkworm moths can¡¯t fly.¡±

    And then, with an infuriatingly indifferent tone, he added,

    ¡°But that one? Oh, it flies just fine.¡±

    KWHOOOOOSH!

    In an instant, the Heavenly Silkworm burst out of the cocoon, pping its four massive wings and soaring up to the towering ceiling.

    ¡°Let¡¯s run!¡±

    Veronica shouted as she watched the scene, but Oscar shook his head, standing firm.

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°What? Why not?!¡±

    ¡°If we run, that thing will head for the nearest city to look for food.¡±

    And it would devour the citizens there indiscriminately.

    The number of casualties would be impossible to predict.

    No matter what, they had to prevent it from escaping.

    ¡°Ah... damn it!¡±

    Realizing the gravity of the situation, Veronica bit her lip hard.

    Then, ring at the Heavenly Silkworm above, she took a few steps forward.

    ¡°Lucky me, huh? You stay back,¡±

    She said, as if to shield Oscar.

    Oscar raised an eyebrow at the unexpected gesture.

    ¡®Impressive.¡¯

    For an ordinary fourth-level mage, freezing in terror at the sight of a Heavenly Silkworm would have been the normal reaction.

    But Veronica was different.

    Her sharp, intense eyes showed no trace of fear, only an overflowing determination.

    A faint smile crept onto Oscar¡¯s lips.

    ¡®Look at her. She reminds me of myself when I was young.¡¯

    As someone who had also been an orphan, he understood.

    The defiance, the deliberate toughness meant to ward off any dismissal or disregard from others.

    And because he understood, he couldn¡¯t help but feel concerned.

    ¡®When I was young, I could only see what was right in front of me.¡¯

    Hoping she wouldn¡¯t make the same mistakes he did, he moved his lips and cast a spell.

    ¡ºMessage¡»

    A streak of mana shot through the corridor they hade down, carrying his voice.

    The spell would reach the coachman outside, delivering a request for reinforcements.

    ¡°For now,¡±

    Veronica said coldly, having justpleted a massive magic circle.

    ¡°Let¡¯s start by bringing it down to our level.¡±

    ¡ºWind Press¡»

    Compressed air plummeted from the ceiling of the power nt, mming into the Heavenly Silkworm and pinning it down.

    KREEEEEEE!

    Completely unprepared for such pressure, the creature couldn¡¯t resist and crashed to the ground.

    BOOOOM!

    Veronica''s next spell was already prepared as a cloud of dust rose from the impact.

    ¡ºAir Burst¡»

    Her sharp eyes locked onto a single point.

    The air around that spot began topress at a terrifying rate, then released its energy in an instant.

    BOOOOM!

    KIIIIIIIEEE!

    The Heavenly Silkworm¡¯s agonized screams echoed throughout the room.

    It writhed in pain, struggling to rise again.

    ¡°What? This isn¡¯t as bad as I thought!¡±

    Veronica grinned, lifting one corner of her mouth as she dashed forward.

    ¡ºJet Booster¡» N?v(el)B\\jnn

    With the spell, her body visibly lightened and her speed drastically increased.

    It was a mid-level spell of the White Tower, two tiers above the basic ¡ºeleration¡» spell.

    ¡®Once you¡¯ve got the momentum, you have to finish it in one go.¡¯

    She knew nothing about the Heavenly Silkworm, but instinctively, she could feel it.

    If she didn¡¯t deal with it now, right after its metamorphosis, the one in danger would be them.

    ¡ºGust Hand¡»

    Crunch! Crackle!

    Hands made of wind rose from the ground, forming a staircase-like structure to greet her.

    As Veronica stepped on them one by one, they lifted her into the air, allowing her to ascend toward the Heavenly Silkworm.

    But just as she was about to take off¡ª

    Oscar suddenly appeared behind her and yanked her hood.

    Thud!

    ¡°Gah! Agh!¡±

    Veronica, unceremoniously thrown to the ground, blinked in dazed confusion.

    Once she regained her senses, her expression twisted into a grimace as she spat out a stream of curses.

    ¡°You crazy bastard! What the hell are you¡ª¡±

    ¡°Wind.¡±

    Whoosh!

    A strong wind conjured by Oscar swept up invisible dust particles and drove them against one of the walls.

    Sizzle.

    The wall, covered in that dust, began melting away almost instantly.

    ¡°The transparent scales of the Heavenly Silkworm dissolve anything they touch,¡±

    Oscar dered as he nced back at her with a reproachful look.

    ¡°In other words, if I hadn¡¯t stopped you, you¡¯d be dead right now.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡­¡±

    Realizing the gravity of the situation, Veronica¡¯s pupils trembled violently as if struck by an earthquake.

    Fixing his gaze on the Heavenly Silkworm, Oscar continued.

    ¡°I deliberately kept my distance. That creature is intelligent and cunning.¡±

    -Keeeeeeet.

    The Heavenly Silkworm let out a high-pitched screech of frustration, its tone almost regretful.

    Then, as if it had never fallen, it effortlessly soared back toward the ceiling, circling high above with no intention of descending again.

    Watching its movements, Veronica bit her lip and asked,

    ¡°...How did you notice those invisible scales?¡±

    ¡°I focused my magic into my eyes and observed every particle in the air.¡±

    ¡°What kind of insane nonsense is that¡­¡±

    Halfway through her incredulous remark, she trailed off.

    Seeing the seriousness on Oscar¡¯s face, she realized he wasn¡¯t joking.

    ¡°¡­Is that really something you can do in the middle of a fight?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s possible. But if you want to do it, you¡¯ll need a lot of training.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re mocking me, saying I don¡¯t have the talent for it, right?¡±

    ¡°The opposite, actually.¡±

    Oscar shook his head and continued,

    ¡°I¡¯m saying you can do it because you have the talent.¡±

    Perceiving the world on a particle level was no easy feat.

    It required not only exceptional control over magic but also the mental fortitude to avoid sumbing to the overwhelming influx of information.

    In other words, it was a technique only achievable by those with extraordinary talent.

    ¡®But with her¡­ She didn¡¯t falter when facing the Heavenly Silkworm, and her understanding of magic is advanced enough to wield intermediate spells freely at just Level 4.¡¯

    That¡¯s more than enough to start knocking on that door.

    -Screech!

    Just then, the Heavenly Silkworm, having fully healed its wounds, let out an enraged cry.

    Its wings began to glow with a resplendent light.

    ¡°Damn it! Get down!¡±

    Oscar lunged forward, shielding Veronica with his body as he cast a wind shield.

    BOOM!

    A green beam fired from the Heavenly Silkworm¡¯s wings engulfed the two of them.

    ¡°Guh!¡±

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    The wind shield deflected the beam in all directions, scattering its destructive force.

    By the time the violent attack subsided, Oscar was drenched in sweat and covered in dust.

    ¡®This isn¡¯t good.¡¯

    Blocking just one attack had drained 70% of his mana.

    The only silver lining was that the Heavenly Silkworm needed about five minutes to recharge before it could fire another beam.

    ¡®With the magic I have left, I can¡¯t block a second attack.¡¯

    In other words, he had to settle this within the next five minutes.

    Rising to his feet, Oscar extended his hand.

    ¡°Get up. We don¡¯t have much time.¡±

    ¡°¡­Kill me.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    Thump! Thump!

    Veronica repeatedly smacked her thighs with a face that seemed on the verge of tears.

    ¡°These damn legs¡­ won¡¯t move!¡±

    ¡°¡­¡­¡±

    After narrowly escaping death twice in such a short span, her legs had given out from the strain.

    She was, after all, only a 20-year-old mage.

    No matter how much she pretended to be strong in front of others, oveing the fear of death was another matter entirely.

    ¡°...Go.¡±

    Her voice trembled as she spoke, biting her lip so hard it bled.

    ¡°I¡¯ll try to hold it off and distract it as much as I can. You go ahead.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡­¡±

    Oscar silently stared down at her.

    Ufortable with his gaze, Veronica snapped.

    ¡°What are you staring at? You don¡¯t even like me! So if you don¡¯t want to die with me, then just go already!¡±

    ¡°¡­¡­¡±

    Oscar wordlessly read the air around her.

    The unsteady currents, trembling like a frightened kitten, betrayed her true feelings¡ªso different from her words.

    ¡®I¡¯m scared.¡¯

    Her stubbornness reminded him of his younger self.

    Perhaps that¡¯s why.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡±

    Pat, pat.

    Oscar gently patted her head, just like his master had once done for him.

    ¡°¡­What?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no need to be afraid. I¡¯m not going to leave you behind.¡±

    Veronica¡¯s wavering eyes fixated on the hand patting her head.

    ¡®It¡¯s okay?¡¯

    What a joke.

    That¡¯s nothing more than baseless bravado wrapped in arrogance.

    Even she couldn¡¯t imagine defeating that thing, so what could a mere Level 2 Mage possibly aplish?

    But then¡­

    Even though it¡¯s logical, and there¡¯s no room for argument against such reasoning¡­

    Why did she feel so reassured by that single word¡ª¡®fine¡¯?

    Every time his hand patted her head, it was as if some button inside her was pressed, and she felt like she could cry.

    Smack!

    Barely managing to knock his hand away, she asked,

    ¡°¡­So, what are you nning to do about it?¡±

    ¡°Fight,¡±

    Oscar replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

    ¡°Even if your body can¡¯t muster the strength, you can at least provide magical support, right?¡±

    ¡°¡­You¡¯re seriously going to fight that thing? Even as a Level 2 Mage?¡±

    ¡°Even if I weren¡¯t a Level 2 Mage but a mere Level 1, it wouldn¡¯t change anything.¡±

    What was it about him?

    The deep, indifferent gaze looking down at her seemed sturdier than any stone she had ever seen in her life.

    And yet, at the same time, it was warm.

    Like the breeze of a spring day.

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget. A mage of the White Tower never abandons their allies.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    At that moment, a gust of wind passed by, gently stirring her hair.

    She had never known such warmth in her life, but if being in her mother¡¯s arms felt anything like this, it mighte close.

    ¡ºHaste¡»

    Wrapping himself in that wind, Oscar dashed forward in an instant.

    Tat-tat-tat!

    The Venomous Silkmoth instinctively unleashed a volley of poison-tipped needles at him.

    ¡°¡­I told you to run away. I even gave you the chance to leave me behind,¡±

    Veronica muttered through clenched teeth as she extended her hand.

    ¡°So if youin after this, I swear I¡¯ll kill you myself!¡±

    Fwoooosh!

    Oscar¡¯s figure gracefully weaved through the storm of needles.

    The Jet Booster, a mid-level haste spell that would normally be used by a Level 5 Mage of the White Tower, was now imbued upon him.

    ¡®This one¡¯s something else.¡¯

    Oscar shot a surprised nce back at her.

    It was as if the spell fit him as perfectly as a tailored shoe.

    To bestow such a precisely calibrated spell upon someone else required exceptional control over one¡¯s mana.

    ¡®Veronica Fricks, you deserve a gold star.¡¯

    Oscar raced across the power nt with explosive speed and reached the abandoned cocoon.

    From there, he carefully pulled out a single strand of silk.

    Heavenly Silkworm Thread.

    Aside from its beautiful appearance, it was highly prized for its incredible durability, making it very valuable.

    Oscar imbued the thread with mana and hurled it at the silkmoth.

    Hisssssss

    The silkmoth hissed mockingly at the thread now wrapped around its body, as if to say, What could something like you possibly do?

    Oscar answered the taunt.

    ¡°Veronica! Pull it down!¡±

    As soon as he called for assistance, two spells were cast in tandem.

    ¡ºGust Hand¡» and ¡ºWind Press¡»

    A pair of hands rose from the ground, grabbing the thread alongside Oscar, and pulled with all their might.

    Simultaneously,pressed air pressed down from above.

    -¡­!

    The silkmoth pped its wings desperately, trying to resist.

    But it couldn¡¯t withstand thebined force, and it crashed to the ground again.

    ¡®That leaves about 28% of my mana.¡¯

    Oscar confirmed the location where it had fallen, then reached into his coat as he ran.

    A weighty object rested in his grip.

    What he pulled out was a sleek ck sawed-off shotgun.

    It was no ordinary weapon¡ªit had been modified with three spells: ¡ºHaste¡», ¡ºPierce¡», and ¡ºEnhance¡», a trophy from the herbalist¡¯s field.

    ¡®This gun¡¯s engraved name is¡­ Trinity.¡¯

    Now that the distance was closed, he could use this monstrous weapon to prate the silkmoth¡¯s tough shell.

    Oscar emerged through the swirling dust in a sh, aiming the barrel at the silkmoth¡¯s head.

    -Screech?

    ¡°Goodbye.¡±

    Click.

    Without a moment¡¯s hesitation, he pulled the trigger.

    Bang!

    ¡°Guh!¡±

    The recoil alone was enough to shatter and dislocate his right shoulder, nearly making him drop the gun.

    He wondered how its previous wielder managed to fire it so recklessly, almost wanting to bring them back just to ask.

    But the cost was worth it.

    Boom!

    -Screeeeeeeeech!

    Dozens of holes were sted into the silkmoth¡¯s torso.

    Still, Oscar clicked his tongue in frustration.

    If the thing hadn¡¯t twisted its body at thest moment, its head would¡¯ve been blown clean off.

    ¡°Hm?¡±

    Then, the silkmoth, spewing green fluid from every direction, suddenly shot upward.

    At the same time, its wings began to emit a radiant glow once more.

    ¡°¡­Its beam attack is already recharged?¡±

    No way.

    There were still 3 minutes and 42 seconds left until the cooldown should¡¯ve ended.

    As expected, this was a desperate move on its part.

    The glowing wings only managed to emit a faint, narrow beam.

    -¡­!

    The problem was that this attack wasn¡¯t aimed at Oscar or Veronica.

    Crash!

    The ceiling.

    Sensing mortal danger, the silkmoth destroyed the power nt¡¯s roof and flew toward the opening.

    ¡®It¡¯s trying to escape!¡¯

    Oscar¡¯s lips tightened as rm bells rang in his mind.

    If that thing left the power nt, the resulting catastrophe would be unimaginable.

    He stared at the silk thread rapidly trailing upward, then grabbed it with his uninjured left hand.

    ¡°Hey! Are you insane? Why are you grabbing that¡ª!¡±

    Veronica¡¯s shocked voice faded into the distance.

    A terrifying speed enveloped his entire body.

    [Trantor - ra]

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 Chapter 33

    [Trantor - ra]

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    Chapter 33: Magic Power nt (3)

    Whirrr!

    The unexpected flight was far fromfortable.

    ¡°Urgh!¡±

    The Heavenly Silkworm thrashed about violently, solely intending to shake him off.

    If the rope he clung to hadn''t been made of celestial silk, it would have snapped at least ten times by now.

    ¡®And my spine feels like it¡¯s about to snap too¡­! Once I get back, I¡¯m tripling my core workouts.¡¯

    Even now, the results of his intermittent muscle training were proving their worth.

    Had he still been in the frail body he woke up with initially, he would never have endured this.

    -Screeeech!

    The Heavenly Silkworm nced briefly at him, then abruptly shot upward.

    Whoosh!

    Piercing through the clouds in an instant, Oscar squinted his eyes.

    ".......!"

    The crimson waves of clouds dyed by the sunset were breathtaking, but there was no time to appreciate the view.

    The cold air at high altitude was numbing his skin rapidly, and it felt like his lungs were freezing over.

    ¡®But it¡¯s the same for that thing. It won¡¯t be able to endure here for long.¡¯

    As if to prove his thoughts, the Heavenly Silkworm suddenly spun around to face him.

    -Screeeee!

    A victoriousugh escaped its mouth.

    ¡®Of course. Up here, Veronica can¡¯t interfere, and I have no space to evade its attacks.¡¯

    -Screech.

    Its gaze fixated on his right hand.

    He was still gripping the gun, but barely ¡ª holding on through sheer willpower with no strength to pull the trigger.

    The creatureughed smugly as if it knew this well.

    It then opened its maw wide.

    ¡®The bite force of the Heavenly Silkworm can crush steel.¡¯

    There was no way he could avoid those densely packed teeth with his body in its current state.

    As he epted this ufortable truth, the taut thread ckened.

    The Heavenly Silkworm was now plunging toward him at a terrifying speed.

    ¡°¡­¡­Phew.¡±

    Tilting his head back, Oscar gazed at the sunset-colored clouds above him and let out a faint sigh.

    His lips moved.

    ¡°¡­They say humans have two eyes so they can see both the strengths and weaknesses of others.¡±

    ¡°And two ears so they can listen twice as much as they speak.¡±

    Without hesitation, he released the thread in his left hand ¡ª the lifeline that had been keeping him alive.

    -Screeeeeee!

    The Heavenly Silkworm screeched withughter as it approached him with its maw wide open.

    Was itughing at the sight of its opponent surrendering to death, or rejoicing in the sess of its n?

    As its massive, sharp teeth came close enough to touch, Oscar continued.

    ¡°And so, the reason humans have two hands is¡­¡±

    The left hand, now free, took the gun from his faltering right.

    Then, he aimed it directly at the gaping maw of the Heavenly Silkworm ¡ª at a range where he could not possibly miss.

    ¡°¡­so they cannd one more blow.¡±

    ".......!"

    The fleeting look of panic that shed across the creature''s dark pupils was all he needed to see.

    Oscar¡¯s left index finger decisively pulled the trigger.

    Bang!

    Of course, his left shoulder also took the brunt of the recoil, shattering painfully.

    Both shoulders throbbed in agony, and his face was sttered with the creature¡¯s bodily fluids, but Oscar grinned.

    ¡°But your head is still just one, isn¡¯t it? So this is my win, you bug.¡±

    St!

    The Heavenly Silkworm¡¯s head disappeared entirely.

    Its massive body trembled violently before going limp.

    Plummeting rapidly, Oscar muttered to himself as he captured the stunning sunset in his eyes.

    ¡°¡­Save me, Veronica.¡±

    He had already adjusted his trajectory to fall toward the power nt¡¯s roof.

    But from here on, there was nothing more he could do.

    His mana had runpletely dry.

    "......."

    As the power nt drew nearer at an rming speed, his consciousness began to fade.

    Momentster, as his body broke through the roof of the power nt, a sharp voice rang out.

    ¡°Air Cushion! Gust Hands!¡±

    Fwoooosh!

    The Air Cushion spell caught Oscar mid-fall, drastically slowing his descent.

    A pair of conjured hands rose and wrapped around him gently, like petals.

    Thud!

    A cloud of dust billowed as hended.

    Veronica, limping slightly, approached him.

    ¡°Hey, hey! Are you alive? Or¡­¡±

    Her trembling voice faltered as she reached out and grabbed the cold fabric of Oscar¡¯s cor, shaking him cautiously.

    ¡®If this idiot dies on me like this, then I¡­¡¯

    Just as she bit her lip and lowered her head, Oscar, who had been lying still, suddenly opened his eyes wide.

    He nced around and exhaled raggedly.

    ¡°Haah¡­ haah. Am I alive?¡±

    ¡°¡­Do you even need to ask, you lunatic?!¡±

    Thwack!

    Her fistnded on his shoulder, drawing a yelp of pain from Oscar.

    What followed was a long barrage of worried scolding mixed with insults.

    ¡°Oscar! Veronica! Are you safe?!¡±

    ¡°¡­Elder, I think I¡¯ve gone deaf in one ear now.¡±

    As he confirmed the arrival of the rescue team from the White Tower, led by Elder Maxim¡­

    Oscar finally let go of his consciousness.

    * * *

    ¡°Tower Master! Tower Master!¡±

    Standing at the edge of a cliff, staring at the ashen fortress in the distance, Oscar slowly turned his head.

    The subordinate who had seeded in catching his attention spoke.

    ¡°The final line of defense has fallen.¡±

    ¡°¡­Are you sure?¡±

    ¡°See for yourself.¡±

    Majiro Wilson, one of the two 8th-level mages in the Magic Tower and known as its mastermind, activated his unique spell, Eye of the Sky.

    Hundreds of miles away, a vivid image of the battlefield appeared before them.

    ¡°¡­¡±

    For a moment, Oscar silently observed the sight of his allies retreating in perfect unison.

    Then Majiro spoke.

    ¡°Seeing the overwhelming size of the demon army, they must have concluded that holding the line was futile. They¡¯ll likely keep retreating.¡±

    ¡°How far?¡±

    ¡°¡­If I were them, I¡¯d fall back to Simon Gorge, which is favorable for defense.¡±

    Simon Gorge.

    Oscar rubbed his temple wearily.

    ¡°Worst-case scenario.¡±

    ¡°It certainly is.¡±

    [Trantor - ra]

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    The path to Simon Gorge led through their own territory, Sirin.

    Majiro cautiously asked,

    ¡°It¡¯s a tant threat, but what will you do?¡±

    ¡°Ignore it.¡±

    The one who answered was the other 8th-level mage, Radan Lockwood, also known as the White Lion.

    Wearing the head of a white lion he had hunted himself, he spoke resolutely.

    ¡°Retreating now is exactly what they want.¡±

    ¡°¡­Are you serious? If we don¡¯t go back, the people and mages of Sirin will all die.¡±

    ¡°But if we don¡¯t press forward, the chance to kill the Grand Emperor will be lost forever.¡±

    ¡°Enough.¡±

    Oscar silenced the two, who often shed due to their differing perspectives.

    He nced around.

    Over a hundred subordinates were waiting solely for his decision.

    ¡°¡­¡­¡±

    Most of them would probably want to go back.

    Back to the Tower, to their family and friends in the fief.

    Oscar was no exception to this.

    His gaze turned back to the ashen fortress, his expression a bit forlorn.

    ¡®You''ve given us a tough dilemma, Emperor.''

    For weeks, they''d gone without food and rest, traversing this destend for one reason alone¡ªto assassinate the Demon Emperor, who had been fatally wounded in battle.

    ''He''s in that fortress right now.''

    The enemy likely sensed his presence, and thus they were issuing threats, mobilizing their forces.

    Telling him to go back.

    He''d lose everything precious to him by tonight if he didn''t.

    ''I...''

    Oscar, lost in deep contemtion, bit his lip and cast amunication spell.N?v(el)B\\jnn

    A familiar face appeared before him.

    [Master of the Tower? What brings you here at this hour?]

    "Deputy Master Marlon, I have orders."

    [...Yes, please go ahead.]

    Sensing the gravity of the situation, the old man¡¯s gaze grew steely.

    "Immediately evacuate all residents of the city into the Tower. Request reinforcements from the Imperial Pce, and activate every defensive magic array set up within the Tower."

    "......Are you serious, Master of the Tower?"

    At Majiro¡¯s question, he replied in the calmest tone he could muster.

    "If I return now, I can save the Tower and my people, yes."

    But in that time, the Emperor would heal from his injuries, and the chance to kill him would disappear forever.

    And if that happened, it would take less than three years for humanity to face its end.

    A bitter smile crept up on Oscar''s lips.

    "This is a cruel dilemma."

    This situation was crafted with a vicious malice, forcing either the White Tower or humanity to be sacrificed.

    "......In that case, rather than a temporary survival, it¡¯s better to open a path to asting tomorrow."

    That was the answer he had decided upon.

    "Are you sure you won''t regret this decision?"

    "......"

    Regret.

    He probably would.

    In fact, he certainly would.

    How could he not, when he was sacrificing everything he held dear for a greater cause?

    This decision would lead to the Tower''s invaluable records and treasures, amassed over centuries, being burned and destroyed.

    The people of the fief would die.

    He would undoubtedly carry this regret and me himself endlessly for this choice.

    ''But...''

    Someone had to be sacrificed.

    It didn¡¯t necessarily have to be him and the White Tower, but they were the ones most likely to seed.

    With a pained smile, Oscar responded.

    "Perhaps. But I¡¯ll never voice that regret."

    "Ah, I wouldn¡¯t know."

    Seeing that Majiro, who knew his nature, reluctantly agreed, his voice came through themunicator.

    [I, too, will only follow the Master of the Tower¡¯s decision.]

    "Thank you, Marlon. I¡¯m counting on you."

    [It¡¯s my honor. Finally, this old man gets a task worthy of him... Oh, Master of the Tower, your disciples are moring to speak with you. Shall I put them on?]

    Thinking of his rabbit-like disciples, he nodded.

    "Put them on."

    No sooner had he spoken than a soft, chubby face appeared on the screen¡ªhis youngest disciple, Sasha, only five years old.

    [Master! When are youing back?]

    "Our dear Sasha, I¡¯ll return after a few more nights."

    [How many more nights do I have to wait?]

    "Hmm, let¡¯s say about a hundred nights, just to be safe."

    [That¡¯s a bit too many... Can¡¯t youe back tomorrow?]

    His heart wavered as he saw Sasha¡¯s eyes begin to well up.

    "There¡¯s just too much work to do, but I¡¯ll return as soon as possible."

    [Master! Then should Ie over there? You always say tobine our strengths when there¡¯s a tough job!]

    At that moment, his second disciple, Gilliot, pushed down on Sasha¡¯s head and barged in.

    [Hey, don¡¯t squish my head! Dummy!]

    [Oh really? Look at the manners on you. Who¡¯s the dummy here? You don¡¯t even have your front teeth.]

    [Waaah!]

    But soon enough, his eldest disciple, Lloyd, appeared to mediate, his demeanor far more mature than his nine years.

    [What are you two doing? The Master is watching. Gilliot, apologize first. Why¡¯d you make her cry?]

    [She cries at the drop of a hat; you know that, too. Why are you acting like this?]

    [But this time, you pressed her head first.]

    [It wasn¡¯t even that hard¡­]

    [Waaaaah! It hurt!]

    He couldn¡¯t tell if this was the White Tower or a daycare, it was such a chaotic mess.

    After finally settling the quarrel, Lloyd spoke with an unusually dignified look for his age.

    [Master. Don¡¯t worry about us here. I¡¯m here, after all.]

    "Yes, as I always say..."

    [When you¡¯re not here, I have to take care of the younger ones. Right?]

    He already knew, even without being reminded.

    As he looked at him with pride in his eyes, Lloyd carefully extended his pinky finger.

    "Another promise?"

    [Promise you¡¯ll return after a hundred nights of sleep.]

    That promise-loving nature of his.

    When Oscar interlocked their pinky fingers, Lloyd¡¯s face brightened.

    [It¡¯s a promise. You¡¯lle back for sure.]

    "Yes, I promised."

    He would absolutely return.

    As a faint smile appeared on his lips, he suddenly heard¡ª

    [...Then why didn¡¯t you keep your promise?]

    A shocking sight unfolded: blood-red tears spilled from Lloyd''srge, round eyes.

    Oscar felt his heart drop for a moment, stunned.

    Blood oozed through themunication screen and, in an instant, smeared his hand.

    [Trantor - ra]

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 Chapter 34

    [Trantor - ra]

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    Chapter 34: LEVEL 3 (1)

    "Hey! Hey!"

    "Ugh! Ugh!"

    Oscar woke up from a nightmare, gasping for air, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

    A strange chill lingered around him, and his entire body was drenched in cold sweat.

    "Hey, are you okay?"

    A familiar voice came from beside him.

    He turned his head and saw Veronica¡¯s slightly tense face and the familiar sight of a hospital room.

    Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Oscar replied.

    "Thanks. You woke me up at the right time."

    The distortion of his dreams was something he dreaded most about this curse.

    If not for Veronica, he might have been forced to witness an even more horrific scene.

    "A nightmare?"

    "Yeah, a filthy one."

    "What kind of bad dream was it... Was it about the recent fall?"

    "No, it was something from the past."

    Because of the dream, everything from that day felt vivid again.

    The scent of the dawn air on the cliff¡¯s edge, the emotions from that day, and the loyal gazes of his subordinates.

    "......"

    Veronica looked like she wanted to ask more but closed her mouth when she saw his body tremble slightly.

    ''If it''s about the past... then it must be that.''

    The great fire at the Crucian estate.

    A mysterious incident, still unresolved, that the public still spected over.

    ¡®Is it some sort of trauma?

    To be honest, I never expected him to have this side, considering he always looks so arrogant and self-assured.

    But thinking about it, it''s understandable. After all, his entire family was wiped out in one night.''

    Veronica muttered to herself as she looked away.

    "Sorry. I shouldn''t have asked so thoughtlessly."

    "It''s fine, it wasn¡¯t your fault."

    Having gathered himself, Oscar shook his head as if telling her not to worry.

    If anyone was to me, it would be that Nightmare Baron.

    Until he disposed of that rat, this curse would haunt him forever.

    At that moment, Veronica handed him the newspaper.

    "The article¡¯s out. The reporters worked faster than I thought."

    "......"

    Oscar nced through the article.

    [The mages of White Tower seeded in hunting down the White-jam (White Silk Moth). This monster, upon reaching adulthood, is said to have the power equivalent to a Level 5 mage or knight... (summary omitted)... The White Tower announced that Veronica Fricks and Oscar Crucian were responsible for the hunt, and if this is true, they are the heroes who saved Sirinst night.]

    "A hero, huh."

    "How does it feel? We might even receive some personal sponsorship thanks to this."

    "Hmm..."

    He understood her sentiment well enough.

    He remembered how thrilled he was at her age in his past life.

    Back then, the mere attention and admiration of the world made his heart race, keeping him up at night.

    He even had this strange longing and excitement for the word ¡®hero.¡¯

    ''But now, what can I say? I feel surprisingly nothing.''

    In fact, perhaps due to that awful dream, he even felt a slight sense of rebellion.

    After all, the reward for saving the world as humanity''s hero was the downfall of his beloved White Tower.

    "Surprising. You¡¯re not interested in being a hero?"

    "Not really. I just want to take care of my own people."

    At least, in this life, he wanted to live that way.

    A selfish, insr life that only cared for himself and the people of the White Tower.

    ¡­Not that he knew if it would work out.

    "Looks like you have less ambition or dreams than I thought."

    "Then you can have plenty of those for both of us."

    Just as he replied weakly, the door to the hospital room suddenly burst open with a bang.

    Was it Maxim!?

    "Oscar! Are you alright?"

    A man with light blue hair rushed in, panting¡ªFran Sirius.

    "What, is your seclusion training over?"

    "Yeah. I heard about what happened as soon as I got out and rushed here."

    He looked a bit scruffy, but his gaze had noticeably deepened.

    Now, he could probably be called a respectable Level 4 mage.

    As Fran walked towards the bed, he asked.

    "What exactly happened? And¡­"

    He blinked as he nced to the side.

    "Why is Becky here again?"

    "Hey, didn''t I tell you not to act too familiar with me?"

    "Why? We¡¯re friends."

    "We¡¯re not friends! Not even close!"

    Veronica snapped, frowning.

    "Do you have any idea how annoying it was for me at the academy with people thinking we were friends because of what you said?"

    "How would I know? You never told me."

    "You little...!"

    She was about to raise her voice, but, remembering they were in front of a patient, she suppressed her anger.

    "Ugh, forget it."

    "Leaving?"

    As Veronica rose and headed for the door, she turned back, ring sharply.

    "What, did you think I¡¯d stay here to chat with you two?"

    "A little?"

    "No way. Just so you know, I¡¯m not close to you either."

    With a look of sharp rivalry, she asked out of nowhere.

    "Let me ask you one thing. Are you AAA?"

    "AAA? What¡¯s that?"

    He genuinely had no idea what she meant.

    Veronica stared intently, as if trying to gauge his reaction, then furrowed her brows.N?v(el)B\\jnn

    "¡­Never mind."

    She left, and Oscar watched her go in silence before asking Fran.

    "Hey, Fran. Do you have any idea what that meant?"

    "I have no clue either."

    To be honest, he felt a slight relief at that answer.

    For a second, he thought he hadn¡¯t understood because he wasn¡¯t up to date with the ¡°kids these days¡±...

    "Anyway, let¡¯s talk. What¡¯s this about bing an instructor, and what¡¯s the story behind the supplement? And what¡¯s this about hunting a Silk Moth?"

    "To put it simply..."

    Oscar summarized the recent events as briefly as possible, from the lecture he¡¯d held to the circumstances that led to the current hunt for the Heavenly Silkworm.

    After hearing the story, Fran nodded.

    "Ah, that exins why all the kids I ran into on the way here seemed to have improved."

    "But they still have a long way to go."

    Thinking about the uing ¡®Night of the Magic¡¯ made Oscar realize he''d have to push them even harder.

    "You''re unusually enthusiastic. Are you trying to win some kind of Oscar Award at this year¡¯s White Night Festival?"

    ".......?"

    An award?

    Oscar suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of embarrassment.

    He hoped he had misheard and asked again.

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    "What did you just say?"

    "I said you''re unusually enthusiastic."

    "And what did you say after that?"

    "Oh, I asked if you were aiming for some kind of Oscar Award?"

    "......."

    Whether it was a blessing or a curse, his left ear was working just fine.

    "What kind of award is that?"

    "The Oscar Award is a prize created in honor of the 17th Master of the White Tower, Oscar Sage, who passed away after the Great Hunt under the Emperor¡¯s rule. It¡¯s awarded at the White Night Festival to the mage with the most outstanding achievements over the past year. Every mage of this era dreams of winning it."

    "......Oh,e on, seriously."

    Oscar rubbed his forehead, feeling his face heat up.

    "Why would they make something that embarrassing?"

    "¡­¡­¡­What¡¯s so embarrassing about it?"

    Fran, looking slightly exasperated, continued.

    "Anyway, realistically speaking, it¡¯s unlikely anyone from our White Tower will win the Oscar Award. In fact, no one from here has won it in the past 20 years."

    "¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­Not even once in 20 years? Not even once?"

    "Not once."

    Fran counted on his fingers.

    "Let¡¯s see. The Red Tower has won it 7 times, the Yellow and Blue Towers 6 times each, and even the ck Tower won it once."

    "......"

    While the other Towers had been winning evenly, even the ck Tower had imed the award once, yet the White Tower hadn¡¯t won a single time?

    It was remarkable that the White Tower hadn¡¯t been expelled from the Four Great Towers.

    The situation certainly seemed ripe for suspicions of favoritism.

    "Still, the award is called the Oscar Award, and yet no one from the White Tower has ever won it¡­?"

    These pathetic juniors were raising his blood pressure.

    Oscar¡¯s eyelid twitched.

    ¡®The Oscar Award. I don¡¯t like the name, but wouldn''t it be perfect to announce the White Tower¡¯s revival after 20 years?¡¯

    After some thought, Oscar asked,

    "If someone wins that Oscar Award, do they get anything besides honor? Is it just about the title?"

    "Of course not. The winner gets a private audience with the Emperor."

    "Oh."

    Oscar¡¯s eyes gleamed.

    It might be phrased as an ¡°audience,¡± but it was really more of an opportunity to ask for whatever they wanted.

    Knowing the Emperor''s personality, most requests would likely be granted as long as he didn''t ask for something outrageously ambitious.

    In other words, winning the award meant iming both honor and substantial rewards.

    ¡®If I got the chance to speak with the Emperor alone¡­¡¯

    He considered it for a moment but couldn¡¯t decide.

    Should he reveal his true identity, or continue dealing with things as Oscar Crucian?

    At this point, there wasn¡¯t a single person he could trust 100%.

    ¡®Honestly, if I¡¯m lucky, I¡¯d be dismissed as a lunatic, and if not, I¡¯d end up hauled to the imperial researchb and dissected. Even if I reveal secrets only the real Oscar Sage would know, I doubt they¡¯d believe me.¡¯

    During the war, demons had often employed simr tricks to infiltrate the imperial family.

    ¡®The Oscar Award, for the mage who¡¯s shown the best achievements over the year¡­¡¯

    Realistically, curing the Cadena Flu alone wouldn¡¯t be enough to win.

    The good news was that the White Night Festival was still a few months away.

    If he umted a few more notable aplishments in that time, he might increase his chances of winning the award.

    ¡®Well, even if I miss out on it this year¡­

    From next year on, it¡¯s mine for sure.¡¯

    * * * * *

    Fran, who seemed ready to stay up all night, finally headed back to his room at midnight.

    "That guy is such a nuisance."

    Finally alone, Oscary down on the bed and closed his eyes.

    He didn¡¯t intend to sleep.

    Afraid that his precious memories might be tainted, he had long made it a habit to avoid sleep as much as possible.

    He began to rey his battle with the Heavenly Silkworm mentally.

    ¡®I didn¡¯t expect the bacsh from Trinity to be that severe¡­ It was my mistake not to check beforehand.¡¯

    As he assessed what needed to be corrected, he came up with a solution.

    ¡®The fundamental fix would be to build a stronger body capable of withstanding Trinity¡¯s recoil.

    If only I had such strong shoulders, I wouldn¡¯t need to worry about it at all.

    But unfortunately, that kind of strength isn¡¯t something you can gain through short-term training.¡¯

    ¡®Which means I¡¯ll have to resort to unconventional methods¡­¡¯

    For mages, ¡°unconventional methods¡± inevitably meant magic.

    Oscar began to ¡®create¡¯ the most essential spell for his current situation.

    ¡®Using an air cushion as the base spell would be best. Then increase the shock absorption rate¡­¡¯

    He projected the blueprint of the spell form in front of him and worked through the night, carefully adjusting each part.

    After a few hours, he finally crafted and immediately tested a new spell.

    "Hmm."

    Watching the results, he made a few adjustments to the forms and then smiled in satisfaction.

    ¡®This should do the trick.¡¯

    ording to his calctions, the final impact on his shoulders would be reduced to about 32%.

    At that level, his shoulders wouldn¡¯t be shattering with each pull of the trigger anymore.

    ¡®At least I¡¯ll be able to fire it two or three times without an issue.

    Combining both shoulders, that¡¯s a total of six shots.

    If I can¡¯t handle an opponent in that many shots, it¡¯ll be my own fault for failing to dodge beforehand.¡¯

    ¡®Now, what else should I work on?¡¯

    As Oscary on his side, rolling around while refining other spells, a man appeared at the mana power nt, a ce still bearing the intense traces of the recent battle.

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 Chapter 35

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    Chapter 35: LEVEL 3 (2)

    "Hm?"

    Harrock Dryon, a Level 5 mage, was busy organizing the scene at the mana power nt when his eyes narrowed.

    It was because an outsider, not a mage of the White Tower, had appeared.

    "Who are you? This isn''t a ce just anyone can enter."

    As he stepped forward to block the man and questioned him, the man in a suit pulled out a business card from his pocket.

    "Haha, I¡¯m not just anyone. I¡¯m Neb Grime from the Special Investigation Division under the Imperial Ministry of Internal Affairs."

    "...Special Division?"

    Harrock, taken aback by the unexpected appearance of such a group, couldn''t hide his surprise as he looked at the card and asked again.

    "So, what brings someone from such an important division here?"

    "Since it''s rare for a Heavenly Silkworm to hatch so close to the city, we''ve been ordered to investigate. Could I ask for your cooperation?"

    "Of course... if that''s what the imperialmand says."

    As Harrock stepped aside, Neb smiled and gave a slight nod.

    "ording to the news, two mages from the White Tower hunted it down. Is that right?"

    "Yes. We found it when a cleanup crew came due to frequent mana supply issues in the city recently."

    "Wow, impressive. In that case, I''ll take a look at the scene."

    "Shall I exin what happened then...?"

    "No need. Just a quick look is all I need; after all, investigating is my bread and butter."

    Responding leisurely, Neb focused his magic on his eyes and began examining the traces of the battle.

    The scene from that time started to take shape before him.

    ¡®One person initiated the battle first. The speed was decent, but¡­.¡¯

    His gaze drifted to one spot.

    ¡®The enthusiasm was there, butckingbat skill. Judging by the mana residue, they were tense, overly exerting their strength. Eventually, they were restrained by another mage. Rather than internal conflict or betrayal, it seems more likely that one saved the other¡¯s life in the face of mortal danger.¡¯

    Neb nodded as he located a melted section of the wall.

    ¡®This would have been the cause. The restrained one stayed seated for a long time without moving. Since there¡¯s no trace of blood, it''s likely they simply lost strength in their legs.¡¯

    Having pieced together the scene, Neb frowned.

    It was now significantly harder to read the traces of the mage who entered the fight afterward.

    ¡®...What¡¯s with this one? Even I can barely follow the general flow here.¡¯

    This meant that the individual had left fewer traces, indicating their considerable skill.

    Checking the direction of the scattered Heavenly Silkworm fluids on the ground, he analyzed the situation.

    ¡®Judging by the scattered nature of the fluids, this wasn''t magic... it was modified weaponry. Specifically, firearms.¡¯

    Neb didn¡¯t think poorly of mages using such tools.

    After all, mastering good tools was also a skill.

    His gaze turned upward this time.

    ¡®The Heavenly Silkworm, fatally wounded, attempted to flee by breaking through the ceiling and flying upwards... Judging by the interrupted footprints here, did someone actually follow it up there?¡¯

    The audacity was astonishing, almostughable.

    ording to the report, a Level 2 mage and a Level 4 mage were credited with hunting the creature.

    ¡®The one who followed it must be the Level 4 mage. The one who lost strength in their legs was likely the Level 2 mage.¡¯

    Honestly, he was surprised.

    That a Level 4 mage could be this skilled and courageous was impressive.

    Neb turned and asked,

    "What''s the Level 4 mage¡¯s name?"

    "Oh, Veronica Fricks?"

    "Veronica Fricks... that''s the name."

    Memorizing the name, Neb continued.

    "From the traces, it seems she nearly took down the Heavenly Silkworm by herself. Still a Level 4? She has quite the future ahead."

    "Uh¡­ actually, I think there¡¯s a misunderstanding."

    Harrock scratched his head, looking awkward.

    "The one who took down the Heavenly Silkworm was the Level 2 mage. Given how proud Veronica is, she wouldn¡¯t lie about it."

    "...What?"

    For once, Neb''s eyes widened in surprise.

    "So, the one who chased it into the sky and finished it off was¡­."

    "Yes, a guy named Oscar Crucian."

    "What?"

    The one who left those incredible traces was just a Level 2 mage?

    Neb was baffled.

    ¡®What? That doesn¡¯t make sense.¡¯

    He had assumed the one who followed the Heavenly Silkworm was the Level 4 mage because the skill level was so polished.

    Honestly, he had even considered the possibility that a Level 5 mage might have been hiding their power.

    ¡®But just Level 2?¡¯

    If the White Tower wasn¡¯t lying, this mage was a prodigy.

    Not just a "prodigy" in name only, but a natural-born genius.

    The mana he left behind was one of the cleanest Neb had ever seen.

    There was a restrained elegance to it¡ªa refinement that seemed impossible for a mere Level 2 mage to achieve.

    "Wait, Oscar Crucian... isn¡¯t he the one who developed the antidote for the Cadena Flu?"

    "Yes, though his personality is rough, his skills are undeniable."

    No wonder the bullet marks seemed somewhat familiar; it was undoubtedly "Trinity," the unique weapon of the famed gunslinger Jack, which he had taken down, as reported.

    "But for a Level 2 mage to handle such a powerful weapon?"

    This implied not only considerable mana ability but also a high level of physical strength...

    The more he learned, the more intriguing Oscar became.

    Feeling a rare sense of curiosity, Neb found himself asking aloud.

    "Who exactly is Oscar Crucian?"

    * * * *

    ¡®...He¡¯s insane.¡¯

    Maxim thought to himself as he visited Oscar¡¯s hospital room. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

    He stood there, watching as Oscar pushed through sit-ups with intense focus.

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    "Whew¡­ One hundred ny-seven¡­ whew¡­ one hundred ny-eight."

    To see someone whose shoulders had beenpletely shattered still doing sit-ups¡­ and with such energy that he seemed like a freshly-caught fish.

    "Whew... two hundred!"

    After reaching his target, Oscar turned, breathing heavily.

    "Oh, you''re here?"

    "..."

    Right, the problem was never with this kid.

    The problemy in trying to understand such a unique specimen with a normal person¡¯s mindset.

    Sighing in self-reflection, Maxim sat down on the chair beside the bed.

    "I brought something for you today."

    He pulled out a small wooden box from his pocket.

    "Hm? That is¡­."

    Even with the box firmly shut, the pure, concentrated mana within seeped out from the lid.

    Maxim smiled with satisfaction.

    "It¡¯s the inner core of the Heavenly Silkworm. By the way, the rights to the silkworm silk itself have also been assigned to you."

    "Both of them?"

    Typically, the inner core of a spiritual creature as powerful as the Heavenly Silkworm would be immensely valuable.

    Consuming it would immediately grant a tremendous amount of mana, not to mention its high purity.

    Heavenly Silkworm silk, which couldn¡¯t be cut by most ordinary swords, was also considered a prized material.

    ''However, it¡¯s unfortunate that the one we caught this time had only just finished its transformation. Naturally, the mana contained within its core won¡¯t be that abundant. But instead, the Heavenly Silkworm''s core offers an exceptional healing effect.''

    "Are you sure I can take it? Even if it¡¯s small, this is worth at least several hundred thousand bels..."

    "The Master of the Tower deemed it appropriate for you to have it. Fidelina and I agreed."

    Since he had caught it, the Magic Tower had no grounds to im ownership.

    However, there was one person he was concerned about.

    "What about Veronica? Since we caught it together, we should ask her."

    "I already spoke to her on my way here. She said she didn''t contribute much in that battle, so it¡¯s only right that you have it."

    "That girl..."

    Oscar chuckled softly, thinking of Veronica''s easygoing nature.

    "In that case, I''ll dly ept it."

    "If you¡¯re nning to consume it right away, I¡¯ll stand guard."

    Most elixirs or spiritual herbs, when absorbed under disturbance, could cause a mana overflow that could damage the circuit¡ªand in the worst cases, it could even be fatal.

    Thus, one would typically consume it alone in a quiet space or ask someone trustworthy to guard the surroundings.

    ''Of course, this inner core isn¡¯t intense enough to require such caution... but there''s no reason to refuse his offer to stand guard.''

    "Then I¡¯ll leave it to you."

    Entrusting Maxim with the watch, Oscar opened the box without hesitation and swallowed the core in one gulp.

    ''Ah...!''

    The core dissolved on his tongue, bing a wave of magic that coursed through his body.

    However, this wasn''t his first time consuming such a thing in his previous life.

    Oscar quickly regainedposure, guiding the pure yet limited magic to the desired ces within him.

    ''Hah.''

    Watching him, Maxim¡¯s expression turned to one of amazement.

    Though he had heard Oscar had taken illegal elixirs once before, he seemed far too adept for his second time.

    ''Geniuses¡ªwhatever they do, they make it look effortless.''

    With a satisfied look, he observed the young mage, the White Tower¡¯s future, for several hours.

    Finally, Oscar¡¯s eyelids slowly lifted as he finished absorbing all the magic.

    "Level 3 atst. Congrattions."

    "...Phew, thank you."

    Oscar felt the three lines of magic circuits firmly established within him, and he rolled his shoulders.

    "My shoulders arepletely healed, too."

    "The Heavenly Silkworm¡¯s core does have excellent restorative effects. That¡¯s fortunate."

    He might actually be stronger than before his injury.

    With a pleased expression, Maxim suddenly grew serious.

    "Since you¡¯re now at a point where you should aim for Level 4, I¡¯ll give you some unsolicited advice. Don¡¯t get involved with that so-called ¡®Designer¡¯ character."

    "Designer? Who¡¯s that?"

    "A mage from the Violet Brigade. I hear he redesigns magic circuits for people, for a fee."

    Maxim¡¯s ensuing exnation was rather intriguing.

    "As you know, the human body has limited space for magic circuits. Moreover, each person¡¯s physical form varies in shape and size, so even installing circuits of the same design yields different efficiency. So, if one wants to install a more efficient circuit and reach a higher level, they turn to this ¡®Designer¡¯ for custom instations."

    "So, they have to reveal their body¡¯s internal structure to that Designer?"

    "That¡¯s exactly what bothers me. But it seems young mages these days don¡¯t mind. Apparently, many of them are secretly contacting the Designer, which worries me."

    Oscar clicked his tongue.

    "Kids these days... What do they think of privacy?"

    Maxim looked at him, exasperated.

    "...You¡¯re one of those ¡®kids these days¡¯ yourself, you know."

    "I¡¯m different from those amateurs. Anyway, this Designer fellow must be pretty skilled?"

    "He¡¯s a Level 7 mage. That talent of his is what made him a criminal within the Brigade."

    "Level 7!?"

    Oscar looked momentarily surprised.

    ''The Violet Brigade¡ªI thought they were just a regr mafia. But if they have a Level 7 mage in their ranks...''

    Now he understood why the royal family was so wary of them.

    It was no wonder if they possessed powerparable to the Magic Tower.

    "I have no desire to get involved with them either. And don¡¯t worry about my circuits."

    No matter how skilled that Designer might be, he¡¯d never be as capable as someone who had reached Level 9 in his previous life.

    Even now, his circuit design was much more efficient and refined than it had been when he was at Level 3 in his past life.

    "If I keep progressing like this, I may even be able to install ten magic circuits in this body."

    "What? Hahaha!"

    Maxim burst intoughter at the young mage¡¯s boldness.

    A mage who had only just reached Level 3 was now talking about reaching Level 10, a level never before attained.

    But Oscar merely watched Maxim¡¯sughter with a serious expression.

    ''Laugh all you want now, Maxim.''

    One day, he¡¯d turn thatughter into shock and admiration.

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 Chapter 36

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    Chapter 36: Free City (1)

    In Sirin, located in the northern continent, winter arrives unusually early.

    Snow began falling heavily as soon as November started, nketing the entire city under a white quilt in the afternoon.

    Oscar was seated on the sofa, admiring this beautiful view.

    ¡®There¡¯s no need to worry about the potion business for a while.¡¯

    After the supplements became a massive hit, the potion business also stabilized smoothly.

    In fact, most of the work was being handled by Lena, his senior.

    ¡®The warehouse is well-stocked. Now, it¡¯s time to start strengthening the White Tower''s power.¡¯

    Of course, he had alreadyid a solid foundation for novice mages through the ''Reinterpretation of Basic Magic'' lectures.

    But that was just the groundwork.

    Thinking the White Tower''s standards would improve with just that much was unrealistic.

    ¡®The real issue is breaking through the ceiling that holds us back. But that will only be solved if we regain the high-level magic.¡¯

    In truth, the loss of high-level magic should never have happened in the first ce.

    Before ''The Night of Purge,'' he had entrusted Edna Sol Lace, the dragon, with all of the White Tower¡¯s records as a precautionary measure.

    ¡­but it seemed like something went wrong.

    He had asked her to pass all the records to whoever seeded him as the White Tower¡¯s Tower Master.

    However, that promise has not been fulfilled even after twenty years.

    ¡®She¡¯s not the type to betray me. There must be some unavoidable reason.¡¯

    After a moment of contemtion, Oscar stood up.

    If something truly had happened to her, rather than waiting indefinitely, it would be best to go find her.

    ¡®First, I should gather some information.¡¯

    That information could be found by scouring the White Tower''s library.

    There was nothing that library didn¡¯t have.

    * * *

    The White Tower¡¯s library, holding centuries of history, was filled with all kinds of ancient books.

    Each of them was known as a famous text and considered priceless historical treasures.

    ¡°¡­it certainly used to be like that.¡±

    Now, the shelves were filled with basic magic theory books or research papers, things you could find at a local bookstore.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

    Some of the shelves even held picture books, as if to awkwardly fill the empty spaces.

    It was like a children¡¯s library at an academy.

    ¡®Even the reddest flower can¡¯tst ten days¡­but I never imagined that the centuries it took to fill this library could vanish in a single day.¡¯

    He hadn¡¯t imagined he would be the cause of it either.

    As Oscar realized this, cold sweat trickled down his spine.

    ¡®If I hadn¡¯t listened to Majiro¡¯s suggestion to make copies of all the library''s records¡­¡¯

    By now, he would¡¯ve been pounding the ground in regret.

    Luckily, he had made copies of all the books and records here and left them with Edna.

    Which meant that if he found her, he could turn all these picture books back into famous texts.

    Oscar sighed in relief and approached the librarian to ask a question.

    ¡°Do you have any materials rted to dragons?¡±

    ¡°Follow me.¡±

    The librarian confidently led him to a section where rows of fairy tale books were neatly arranged.

    Picking one of the books, the librarian rmended it enthusiastically.

    The Brave mage and the Cowardly Lizards

    ¡°This one is really good. It¡¯s about Oscar Sage, and the dragons. It¡¯s a touching true story.¡±

    ¡°¡­I don¡¯t mean books like these. I¡¯m looking for real information on dragons.¡±

    ¡°Ah, such records wouldn¡¯t be here. You¡¯d probably have to go to the capital¡¯s library to find them.¡±

    Oscar chuckled at the title as he read it.

    Cowardly lizards¡­ indeed, those lizards deserved thatbel.

    ¡®An exalted race born to be mediators of bnce and entrusted with recording the world¡¯s history.¡¯

    These beings with all sorts of reverent titles had fled and abandoned the world when the Great Demon Emperor emerged.

    ¡°Oh, but I heard that there was one dragon who fought alongside humans until the end¡­ what was their name again?¡±

    ¡°Edna Sol Lace.¡±

    ¡°Ah! Yes, that was it. But since even that dragon has been unheard of since the war ended, she must have followed her kin.¡±

    Did Edna follow them?

    Oscar was sure that even if the sky split in two, that wouldn¡¯t be the case.

    ¡®She was the one most disappointed by her kin abandoning the world.¡¯

    She didn¡¯t want to live as they did, so she remained in this world as itsst observer, fulfilling her duty.

    Though she was of a different race, she was hisrade and a steadfast ally of humanity.

    "¡­"

    Looking at the crudely drawn dragons on the fairy tale book¡¯s cover, Oscar thought.

    It seemed he would need to find a different approach to locate her.

    * * *

    Recently, the atmosphere in the White Tower was better than ever.

    It¡¯s said that if there¡¯s a problem money can¡¯t solve, it¡¯s because there isn¡¯t enough money.

    The issues that had been causing headaches were mostly resolved by now.

    "¡­With this, all the activity funds requested by the mages working outside have been disbursed.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s touching. Just a little while ago, we were debating whether to sell off White Tower¡¯s resources.¡±

    Even Fidelina and Maxim, who had been at each other''s throats, were now getting along far better.

    People tend to be more irritable when pushed into a corner.

    As he sipped his tea, the Deputy Tower Master spoke up.

    ¡°In the future, we¡¯ll need to take precautions to ensure this never happens again.¡±

    ¡°Well said.¡±

    ¡°Now, let¡¯s move on to the next agenda item¡­¡±

    As he read the documents summarizing the meeting points, the Deputy Tower Master¡¯s eyes grew deep and thoughtful.

    ¡°How are our young ones faring these days?¡±

    ¡°¡­We continue to receive recruitment offers for them, but as always, they remain loyal to us.¡±

    The Deputy Master heaved a heavy sigh.

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    It weighed on his heart, as if a heavy stone had been ced upon it.

    He wished he could repay their loyalty and faith, but the situation was not so simple.

    ¡°Ultimately, this situation will persist indefinitely unless we restore the lost high-level spells.¡±

    Yet, he felt sorry asking them to wait indefinitely.

    It was practically impossible to restore the hundreds of years of magic umted by the White Tower¡¯s ancestors in a single day.

    ¡°¡­I wish I had trained harder in my younger days, to learn as many high-level spells as possible.¡±

    Maxim expressed his deep regret, though it was easier said than done.

    Since ancient times, no one was permitted to learn multiple high-level spells in any of the four great towers.

    ¡°Only the Tower Master has ess to all the high-level spells of the tower.¡±

    Except in rare cases, the maximum number of high-level spells a mage could master in their lifetime was two or three.

    Even the most gifted mages took over a dozen years to fully perfect just one advanced spell.

    Because of this, the White Tower currently held only six high-level spells.

    They were all spells that either the Master or the elders had learned.

    "What a pity. Just twenty years ago, the White Tower held as many as 64 high-level spells... Each one was recognized as a near-legendary skill. That was the foundation of the White Tower''s reputation for consistently producing powerful mages."

    "Sigh."

    The Deputy Master let out a deep sigh before speaking.

    "Is it true that Commander Chester still has no ns to return?"

    "¡­Yes. He says he won''te back until hepletes his final mission."

    At those words, the Deputy Master Hamel held back his regret.

    Chester was a man who, based on his experience and skill, could have easily be the fourth elder of the White Tower.

    "If he came back, we could expand the variety of high-level spells we can teach... But his resolve is strong, so we can''t force him. Let''s move on to the next topic."

    "It seems a serial killer known as the Mage Hunter has appeared in the northern region. Starting tonight, I''ll restrict all White Tower mages from going out past 10 PM. Better safe than sorry."

    "Oh no¡­"

    At that moment, Maxim''s face darkened as he spoke.

    "Just as dawn broke today, Oscar submitted a pass request and left the tower."

    "What?! That''s uneptable. Tell him to return immediately."

    "Uh¡­ By now, he must have already traveled far from Sirin. His stated reason on the request was to visit the Free City of Baran, which is a 14-hour journey by car."

    "Wait, Baran¡­?"

    The Deputy Master quickly recalled who was currently in Baran and said urgently,

    "Contact our branch in Baran right away. Tell them to send Oscar back the moment they find him."

    * * * * *

    Pop, pop.

    "¡­"

    The driver kept ncing nervously at the rearview mirror.

    Understandably so, because the passenger he had picked up in Sirin didn¡¯t seem normal at first nce.

    "So soft."

    Pop! Pop!

    Oscar tapped on the seat, rolled down the window, and even stuck his hand outside, acting rather strangely.

    ¡®If he were some country bumpkin visiting the city for the first time, I might understand¡­ But Sirin used to be one of the continent''s cultural capitals. And I picked this passenger up right at the White Tower¡¯s entrance, so he must be a mage. I¡¯ve heard that some mages lose their minds from their obsession with research... And even if that¡¯s not the case, mages who treat human life like flies are surprisinglymon.¡¯

    "Hey, sir, what¡¯s this?"

    The mage grasped the handle on the door frame, used for holding onto when the car shook, and asked.

    "It¡¯s a handle, sir."

    "What happens if I pull it?"

    "It breaks."

    "Oh."

    Oscar quietly released the handle.

    From his behavior, he seemed like a decent person.

    And now that he looked closer, Oscar was quite handsome, almost like a noble.

    "So, why are you visiting Baran?"

    "I¡¯m looking for someone. I need to collect something from them."

    Their life, perhaps?

    The driver forced an awkward smile as he responded,

    "Haha. I hope you get what you¡¯re looking for."

    "Thank you. It shouldn¡¯t be too hard; just a bit of blood needs to be shed."

    So it was their life...

    The driver swallowed hard and didn¡¯t say another word until they reached their destination.

    The Free City of Baran¡ªa jungle of cold concrete where only money and power mattered. Oscar couldn¡¯t help but admire it upon arrival.

    "Wow, it¡¯s shy."

    The sun was setting, and colorful lights were already shining from the buildings all around.

    Just 30 years ago, this ce had been a wastnd where big casinos were nning to open; now, it had developed dazzlingly.

    ¡®Impressive, sure, but I¡¯ve got work to do.¡¯

    Oscar took a map from his pocket and found his destination.

    ¡®The Blood Tower, the branch of the Blood Tower¡­ Looks like I need to head that way. When ites to finding people, there¡¯s no ce like the Blood Tower, though it¡¯s a shame I¡¯ll need to shed a bit of blood as payment.¡¯

    As Oscar entered a dim alleyway at twilight, a voice called out.

    "Stop right there."

    A man leaning against the alley wall lowered his pipe from his mouth and spoke.

    Smoke drifted into the air, and through the haze, his eyes gleamed red, like jewels, as he stared at Oscar.

    "I¡¯ve been waiting for you, Oscar Crucian."

    "¡­For me?"

    "Yes, someone¡¯s been looking for you."

    From the magical energy he sensed, he could tell this man was a mage.

    The Blue Tower was the most likely suspect.

    ¡®Of course. They¡¯ve lost more than just a few coins on that potion business, so they must have been waiting for a chance to get back at me. But I didn¡¯t expect them to send someone the moment I left Sirin. Ruthless, really.¡¯

    Oscar gathered his magical energy and asked,

    "What if I refuse?"

    "Then I¡¯ll have no choice but to take you by force."

    The man let out another cloud of thick smoke that filled the alleyway as the two of them shed.

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 Chapter 37

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    Chapter 37: Free City (2)

    With a sudden blur, his opponent shot out through the smoke from his cigarette.

    Oscar¡¯s eyes narrowed as he analyzed every muscr movement of the attacker.

    ¡®A mage... and one with well-trained martial skills too, but¡­¡¯

    In an instant, the man¡¯s foot flew toward Oscar, filling his field of vision.

    ¡°Move aside.¡±

    Oscar murmured nonchntly as a ¡ºWind Shield¡» materialized before him.

    The shield was enhanced with ¡ºShock Absorption¡» and ¡ºDurability Reinforcement.¡»

    Boom!

    When the devastating kick was effortlessly blocked, the man''s eyebrow twitched.

    ¡°¡­Blocked?¡±

    ¡°Of course, why wouldn¡¯t I?¡±

    Oscar replied with a casual tone, but inside, he was shocked.

    The Wind Shield he¡¯d summoned was stronger than usual, yet it shattered under just one kick.

    ¡®This guy is on a whole other level.¡¯

    And that wasn¡¯t even a kick reinforced with magic¡ªpure physical power alone had that kind of destructive force.

    ¡®How does someone end up with that kind of body?¡¯

    Though the man looked lean, the force he packed could only be described as godlike.

    Oscar nced briefly at the grimy alley floor with a heightened sense of caution.

    ¡®First, I¡¯ll take the initiative.¡¯

    Making his decision, Oscar charged at the opponent, kicking an empty can on the ground as he ran.

    ¡°¡­"

    As the can flew towards the man''s head, he moved just slightly, watching it pass.

    BOOM!

    The magic hidden inside the can exploded, causing his opponent to stagger from the surprise attack.

    ¡°Ugh!¡±

    Seizing control, Oscar lunged and threw a series of punches.

    Pow! Bam!

    Despite the relentless assault, the man disyed monster-like reflexes, blocking about half of the strikes.

    ¡®Still¡­¡¯n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    This body wasn¡¯t the weak frame that once holed up researching and drinking.

    Now, he¡¯d built up the strength and stamina to handle basicbat techniques.

    Even if he couldn¡¯t match this guy¡¯s raw speed and power¡­

    He could make up for the difference with experience and skill.

    Grabbing the man¡¯s cor, Oscar drove his feet firmly into the ground.

    At the same time, a burst of mana erupted from below,unching his opponent upward.

    ¡°!¡±

    Suspended in the air, the man¡¯s pupils widened at this newbat style.

    Oscar executed a wless shoulder throw.

    Bam!

    For the first time, his opponent¡¯s face contorted in pain as he hit the hard concrete floor.

    ¡®I¡¯ll end this.¡¯

    Oscar swung a kick at the man¡¯s head, enhancing his leg with magic.

    Smash!

    But it wasn¡¯t enough.

    ¡®He managed to mitigate the impact at thest moment with magic reinforcement on his skin.¡¯

    Just as he suspected, the man rose, dusting himself off, seemingly unscathed.

    He looked at Oscar and remarked,

    ¡°You¡¯re strong. I¡¯ll have to fight seriously.¡±

    ¡°Bluffing, are we¡­?¡±

    Oscar¡¯s words trailed off in shock as the man rushed forward at a speed that put his previous movements to shame.

    ¡®eleration? No¡­ faster¡ªit¡¯s like a jet booster. But when did he prepare this?¡¯

    The spell was cast in an instant, faster even than Veronica¡¯s ¡°Rapid Casting.¡±

    ¡®At this speed¡­ I can still keep up.¡¯

    To avoid losing control, Oscar activated <em>eleration</em> too.

    But again, the man¡¯s speed burst explosively.

    ¡°!¡±

    A secondyered jet booster.

    And he controlled it wlessly.

    ¡®He¡¯sing!¡¯

    A sh.

    In an instant, he was a silver blur.

    Crack!

    A lightning-fast kick smashed into Oscar¡¯s neck, followed by a spinning blow to his face.

    ¡°Ugh!¡±

    Oscar tumbled backward but felt a small relief.

    He had barely managed to activate his Wind Shield in time, dissipating the impact.

    This time, he used two shields with ¡ºShock Absorption¡» and ¡ºDurability Reinforcement.¡»

    If he¡¯d only used one, he¡¯d have been knocked out cold by that kick.

    ¡°¡­Blocked that too?¡±

    Only his opponent¡¯s crimson eyes shone in the darkened alley, predatory and piercing.

    This man defied all conventional limits.

    His power level was just Level 4, but his actual strength was closer to that of a top Level 5 mage.

    ¡°I¡¯ll finish this with the next strike.¡±

    Oscar sensed the truth in the man¡¯s words and prepared himself.

    ¡®If it¡¯s a battle of speed, I¡¯ll lose ten times over.¡¯

    He wasn¡¯t equipped to handle even a basic twoyered eleration, much less a dual jet boost.

    His only hopey in skill and experience.

    ¡°Come on.¡±

    Boom!

    Oscar positioned himself and charged, but the man¡¯s form vanished, sinking into the ground.

    Though his eyes couldn¡¯t keep up, he never lost track of magic once he sensed it.

    He pinpointed his opponent¡¯s location and drew on all his mana.

    A torrent of power surged through three circuits within him.

    He clenched his right fist as winds converged around it.

    ¡®Merge with me.¡¯

    Oscar half-closed his eyes, bing one with the wind.

    Oscar¡¯s First Form: Sound of Waves

    He thrust his fist forward.

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    * * * *

    ¡°¡­!¡±

    The man charging toward him paused in surprise.

    Out of nowhere, Oscar Crucian had thrown a punch into empty space.

    But then he seemed to understand.

    ¡®So, he lost track of me.¡¯

    His speed had exceeded Oscar¡¯s ability to keep up, forcing him to swing blindly.

    He threw a punch, hoping for a lucky hit.

    Oddly enough, he managed to get the direction and position right.

    ''But this is the end now.''

    Just as the man stretched out his hand to knock Oscar unconscious, a sound like waves crashing echoed in his ears.

    ''Waves?''

    This was an alley, with no sign of the sea or even standing water.

    He felt an inexplicable sense of difort, and his brow furrowed as he realized warmth was spreading through his abdomen.

    The heat grew stronger and soon transformed into searing pain.

    ".....!"

    Simultaneously, a twisting agony filled his insides, as if all his organs were wringing themselves out.

    BOOM!

    He was hurled in the opposite direction of where he was headed.

    ¡°Ugh! Ugh! <em>Cough!</em>"

    The man, now mmed into arge trash can in the alley, spat out blood.

    He looked up at Oscar, who was approaching him slowly, with a look of disbelief.

    ¡°...What is this technique?¡±

    ¡°Resonance.¡±

    A massive wave of air resonates with the frequency of the opponent''s body.

    It''s like when different objects vibrate at the same frequency, producing a stronger force.

    As the wave prates the target, it causes devastating internal destruction.

    Using the words of the Yan Empire, it¡¯s like the art of ''striking a cow through a mountain.''

    "Heh."

    The man muttered in disbelief.

    "I can''t understand it. When did you get this strong?"

    "You say that like we¡¯ve fought before."

    "We have. More than once."

    "...?"

    Could it be that he knew young Oscar?

    Oscar furrowed his brows and asked,

    "Where did we fight?"

    "Mainly in the sparring hall of the White Tower."

    "...?"

    A question mark seemed to float over Oscar¡¯s head.

    What was he talking about, the White Tower?

    ''Wait, could it be¡­?''

    A sudden foreboding hit Oscar, and he asked,

    "Just to be sure, what''s the name of the person looking for me?"

    "Hamel Grimwiz, the Deputy Master of the White Tower."

    "Damn it! You should¡¯ve said that from the start!"

    "I did say it."

    Oscar remembered his words, staring at him with a resolute expression.

    "I''ve been waiting for you, Oscar Crucian! Someone¡¯s looking for you."

    Oscar held his forehead, exasperated.

    "...And if I refuse to go, he said he''d take me by force?"

    "He instructed me that if words wouldn¡¯t work, force was eptable."

    Unbelievable.

    What kind of guy is this?

    He couldn¡¯t even manage basicmunication.

    ''But why does it feel like I''ve heard this infuriating speech pattern before?''

    As Oscar furrowed his brows andbed through his memory, his expression suddenly froze.

    "Hey... What¡¯s your name?"

    "My name is Killian Lockwood, a proud warrior of the forest."

    Killian Lockwood.

    He was the troublemaker even young Oscar had written about.

    Even Veronica felt a fierce rivalry with him¡ªthe White Tower''s rising star.

    ''Wait, did he say hisst name is Lockwood?''

    Oscar, his voice trembling, asked,

    "Do you know a Radan Lockwood?"

    "Indeed! He''s my proud father! He was once arade of the great Oscar Sage."

    "......."

    Radan Lockwood.

    A beast of hand-to-handbat from the forest tribes, an 8th-level mage of the White Tower, known as the White Lion.

    He had been Oscar¡¯s ally andrade.

    When he first arrived at the White Tower, he had the same terriblemunication skills as this kid.

    So, in summary...

    ¡®Did I just beat up my friend¡¯s son?¡¯

    Oscar felt dizzy, his head drooping.

    He just wanted to pass out.

    * * * * *

    ¡°We have a problem.¡±

    ¡°...I know. It¡¯s a big problem.¡±

    Oscar slumped next to the trash can, looking very downcast.

    Killian, watching him, tilted his head in confusion.

    ¡°My organs are ruptured, so why are you making that face?¡±

    ¡°I have my reasons.¡±

    Oscar let out a heavy sigh.

    He didn¡¯t know how he¡¯d face Radan in the afterlife.

    Though knowing him, he¡¯d probably justugh it off and tell him not to worry.

    ''Now that I think about it, as a warrior of the forest¡­''

    Oscar nced over at Killian.

    His clothes covered most of his body, and he wore gloves that hid almost all of his skin.

    ''A tattooed mage.''

    Warriors of the forest tribe have a bit of a disadvantage when ites to spell-casting.

    Bluntly put, they¡¯re not the brightest.

    ''But they¡¯re loyal and had an unyielding desire to learn magic.''

    That¡¯s why the White Tower''s Fifth Magic Tower Master created "tattoo magic" just for them.

    By pre-etching magic tattoos on their skin, they could activate spells by simply channeling their mana into them.

    ''Thanks to that, they can fire off spells as quickly as incantation-free casting. But each tattoo has limited uses, and once depleted, they can¡¯t cast any spells until they recharge.¡¯

    The forest warriors usually make up for that downtime with their impressive physical abilities.

    ¡®This kid probably has dozens of tattoos on his body. Radan¡¯s body was just like that.¡¯

    Oscar asked,

    "So what¡¯s the problem? Does it hurt a lot?"

    "It does. But pain is nothing to a warrior of the forest. The real problem is that I took on a job in Baran, and I can¡¯t carry it out in this condition."

    "...Sorry about that."

    "I''m not telling you this to get an apology."

    Killian shook his head, his face expressionless.

    "You¡¯ll need toplete the job for me."

    ¡°Weren''t you saying before that I should be sent back to Sirin?"

    "But the jobes with a hefty penalty. If I cancel now, I¡¯ll be bankrupt."

    "..."

    Oscar hung his head and covered his face with both hands.

    Was he doing this on purpose, rubbing guilt on him?

    ¡°Fine. I can¡¯t let you be a credit risk. What¡¯s the job?"

    "...Ah, she¡¯sing out just now."

    Killian looked over at the screen on a nearby building wall, where a woman was singing.

    "That celestial voice... My job is to guard her."

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 Chapter 38

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    Chapter 38: The Celestial Voice (1)

    Oscar stared at the giant screen.

    With each simple dance move she performed in front of the microphone, her wavy, light-pink hair fluttered gracefully.

    Her gentle, warm smile made her look more like a saint from a religious order than a singer.

    -When I open my eyes to a sun-filled morning, my heart starts to race?

    What song should I sing today, what world will I meet today?

    But the most beautiful thing about her was her voice.

    Her voice seemed to melt into the lively melody¡ªjust listening to it was enough to feel as though one¡¯s heart was being healed.

    ¡°¡­¡­She really does sing well. Is she famous?¡±

    ¡°Marin Maria. She emerged like aet about three years ago. Known for her uniquely soothing voice, she¡¯s often called the ''Celestial Voice'' or ''Singing Saint.''¡±

    So she¡¯d managed to earn these grand titles in only three years.

    ¡°She¡¯s like a mermaid.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard rumors that she might actually be something akin to that.¡±

    A bit of a strange answer; she either is or she isn¡¯t, what does ¡®something akin¡¯ even mean?

    Oscar, who had turned away from the screen, asked.

    "That part, I don¡¯t really know either. For more details, go hear her yourself."

    ¡°But why would a top star of her level need a bodyguard?¡±

    Killian pulled a pass from his sleeve and handed it to him.

    "Tonight at 10. The meeting ce is room 1702 at the Grand Baran Hotel. But before that¡­¡±

    He fished out a few bills and handed them over.

    "First, get yourself a suit. Without one, they won¡¯t even let you through the doors of that hotel.¡±

    ¡°¡­I¡¯ll buy it myself. I do have money, you know."

    Oscar adamantly refused the gesture.

    No matter how close they were, he couldn¡¯t take pocket money from his friend¡¯s son.

    * * *

    As night fell, the city¡¯s atmosphere transformed yet again.

    Glittering.

    The streets were so brightly lit that it was hard to tell if it was night or day.

    ¡®Phew, at least I won¡¯t bete for the appointment.¡¯

    After purchasing a suit and shoes at a tailor, Oscar put on red contacts and added a fake tattoo.

    Since he had to impersonate Killian, he needed to look as simr to him as possible.

    ¡®I didn¡¯t have time to dye my hair, but this should be close enough.¡¯

    With his hair pulled back, his gaze looked much sharper than usual.

    ¡®Grand Baran Hotel.¡¯

    Riding in the so-called ¡®taxi¡¯ that Killian had ordered for him, Oscar couldn¡¯t help but admire it.

    All the hotels built in Baran were beautiful and luxurious, but this one was on a whole different level.

    ¡®¡­This ce is insane.¡¯

    The hotel itself was perched on a massive artificialke, standing there like a mirage, defying belief.

    Its cream-colored marble facade reminded him of a grand pce, and the subtle golden lighting entuated its elegance even more.

    Above all, the only way to enter was to cross a bridge over theke by car.

    ¡®This ce practically embodies the word ¡°luxury.¡± Without a car, you can¡¯t even get in.¡¯

    You could feel it was a ce reserved solely for the wealthy, even before you reached the entrance.

    As the taxi glided to a stop at the hotel entrance, a guard approached to open the door.

    ¡°Do you have a pass?¡±

    ¡°Here.¡±

    When he handed over the pass Killian had given him, the guard ran it through an unknown device, then bowed his head.

    ¡°Mr. Killian Lockwood, identity verified. Please enjoy your evening.¡±

    Once inside, the opulence was breathtaking.

    From the colorful ss chandeliers adorning the ceiling to the gold statues scattered around, the ce was dripping in luxury.

    Oscar wondered how much money he could make if he sold even one of these decorations as he stepped into the elevator.

    ¡®This thing is fast.¡¯

    Annoyingly, the diamond-adorned elevator was three times faster than the one at the White Tower.

    He made a mental note to suggest upgrading to one like this when he earned more money.

    Ding!

    In an instant, he arrived on the 17th floor and knocked on the door of room 1702.

    A rustling sound came from inside, followed by a cautious voice.

    "Who is it?"

    ¡°I¡¯m from the White Tower. Killian Lockwood.¡±

    ¡°¡­Oh.¡±

    The voice brightened instantly, and soon, the sound of locks unlocking was followed by the door opening.

    Standing there was a woman with a stern look, wearing rimless sses.

    ¡°Wee. This is our first time meeting in person. I¡¯m Evelyn, Marin¡¯s manager.¡±

    ¡°Nice to meet you.¡±

    She looked him up and down, frowning slightly.

    ¡°Hmm¡­you look a bit different than I¡¯d heard from the rumors.¡±

    ¡°Probably because I¡¯m wearing a suit. I wouldn¡¯t have been able to get in without matching the dress code.¡±

    ¡°Oh, true. That makes sense. Please,e in.¡±

    Oscar followed Evelyn into the spacious room, surveying his surroundings.

    ¡®My room at the White Tower is quite big, but¡­this is five times that.¡¯

    Big enough for a group to run around ying ball, really.

    It wasn¡¯t just spacious, though¡ªit was filled with all sorts of luxurious decorations and furniture.

    In the living room, a womany sprawled on the sofa, flipping through a magazine.

    ¡°Room service?¡±

    ¡°Get up, Marin. This is the mage who agreed to take on the job.¡±

    ¡°Oh, hello.¡±

    The startled Marin Maria got up awkwardly and greeted him.

    So, whether she¡¯s called the ¡®Celestial Voice¡¯ or the ¡®Singing Saint,¡¯ she¡¯s human after all.

    In a way, her down-to-earth manner was endearing.

    "Killian Lockwood, 4th-level mage from the White Tower.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Marin Maria.¡±

    After a brief greeting, Evelyn asked.

    "What would you like to drink?"

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, thank you.¡±

    ¡°Oh, in that case, just water for both of us.¡±

    As Evelyn stepped out briefly, Marin gave a slight bow.

    ¡°First of all, thank you. You epted the job without getting a proper exnation.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not picky about jobs.¡±

    ¡°Really? I heard you have an over 80% sess rate with assignments, so I thought you¡¯d be quite selective.¡±

    A sess rate of over 80%.

    With numbers like that, it¡¯s no wonder he¡¯s called a rising star at the White Tower.

    In this field, a sess rate above 70% is enough to earn one the title of veteran.

    ¡°Thank you for thepliment.¡±

    ¡°Oh, no. It¡¯s not really my ce to judge anyone¡­ Um, could I ask you something?¡±

    ¡°Go ahead.¡±

    ¡°Um¡­do you think¡­are you a responsible person?¡±

    ¡°¡­Hmm.¡±

    Well, he wasn¡¯t entirely sure, but Killian was the son of Radan, a man known for his loyalty and the warrior of the forest.

    So, probably?

    After all, he¡¯d kept his promise for this mission, even going so far as to send him as his substitute.

    ¡°Yes, I am.¡±

    ¡°Oh, good.¡±

    Marin smiled, her hands sped cutely together.

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    ¡°I think responsibility is the most attractive trait a person can have.¡±

    ¡°Oh¡­is that so.¡±

    In the silence that followed, Oscar nced around the room, only to be taken aback.

    Through arge window overlooking the artificialke and the city, he saw an enormous bathtub right in the middle of the room.

    Big enough to fit ten people without feeling crowded.

    ¡°¡­Why is there a bathtub in the living room?¡±n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    ¡°Oh, I have a habit of taking baths while looking out the window when I¡¯mposing.¡±

    ¡°That makes sense. Composing while looking at such a fantastic view must be inspiring.¡±

    Apparently, sessful artists had their own routines, and it seemed that this was part of hers.

    A little whileter, Evelyn returned, setting two sses of water down as she stood beside Marin.

    After taking a sip to calm herself, Marin finally spoke.

    ¡°To get straight to the point, I¡¯ve been receiving threats recently."

    "...Threats?"

    Oscar¡¯s eyes narrowed.

    He had assumed she¡¯d hired a bodyguard simply due to the rough state of security in Baran, but apparently, that wasn¡¯t the reason.

    "What kind of threats?"

    ¡°To exin that, I first need to rify the importance of this uing concert."

    "Please, look over here."

    Evelyn turned on the TV with a remote.

    On the screen yed a video of Marin, one Oscar had already seen with Kilian.

    "You might not know, but Marin''s talent is at an exceptional level. Even though ourpany is small and couldn¡¯t provide much support, she¡¯s managed tond her first solo concert at Baran Dome in just three years solely on her skill."

    ¡°So it¡¯s a big deal to perform at Baran Dome?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re joking, right? Think of it like¡­ what''s that famous award for mages again?"

    "Oh, the Oscars."

    Sitting shyly on the sofa, Marin muttered softly.

    ¡°Yes, it¡¯s as remarkable as a magician winning an Oscar. A solo concert at Baran Dome¡ªwhere you have to pass a rigorous selection process¡ªis every singer¡¯s dream stage. Only three or four performers get to stand there each year.¡±

    ¡°I see. I didn¡¯t know that.¡±

    ¡°In other words, whether or not this concert happens is going to be a critical turning point in Marin¡¯s life. The problem¡­ is the person making those threats.¡±

    ¡°What exactly are they threatening?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s simple. They¡¯re demanding the concert¡¯s cancetion.¡±

    Evelyn sighed deeply.

    ¡°And we even know who¡¯s behind these threats.¡±

    "...What? If you know who it is, why not confront them or, at the very least, report it?"

    Seeing the shock on Oscar''s face, Evelyn nodded.

    ¡°Of course, it¡¯s not easy to understand the situation. Remember I exined how much this Baran Dome concert means?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Are you suggesting that¡­?¡±

    ¡°You probably guessed correctly. The person behind the threats is a rival singer of Marin¡¯s.¡±

    Jealousy can be a powerful motivator¡ªsometimes for better, sometimes for worse.

    ¡°Who is it?¡±

    ¡°Ara Sweet, a female singer who debuted two years before Marin. She¡¯s fairly talented and has a fanbase, but her album sales and booking rankings have been falling behind Marin¡¯s recently.¡±

    Oscar nodded in understanding.

    ¡°Was there a fiercepetition for this concert spot at Baran Dome?¡±

    ¡°Oh my, hardly! Yes, there waspetition, but it wasn¡¯t exactly close. I won overwhelmingly.¡±

    "...?"

    Oscar blinked, looking at Marin, who was giving him an angelic smile.

    So this was the legendary rivalry between senior and junior performers?

    ¡°So, losing thepetition made her resentful, and if Marin gives up, the concert will go to her instead, hence the threats?¡±

    ¡°Exactly. And when we kept ignoring her, she escted to death threats.¡±

    After Oscar examined the threatening letter Evelyn had ced on the table, he looked puzzled.

    ¡°This doesn¡¯t make sense. Why not simply report this letter to the press and be done with it?¡±

    ¡°...If it were that easy, we would have done so already.¡±

    Evelyn let out a long sigh, then suddenly brought up something seemingly out of nowhere.

    ¡°Did you hear about the death of Baran¡¯s mayor in his home a few months ago?¡±

    ¡°I think I read about it in the newspaper.¡±

    ¡°Ara Sweet is the only daughter of the candidate poised to be the next mayor of Baran.¡±

    "...So that means?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Whether the media has been bribed or fears future retaliation, every outlet we approached has ignored our report. Every attempt to spread the information has been perfectly contained.¡±

    With a family of that stature, it¡¯s a burden no ordinary singer could bear.

    Marin sped her hands together and made a plea.

    ¡°Please, I really want to go through with this concert.¡±

    ¡°Hmm, this is a tough situation.¡±

    With a family that influential, even the caliber of assassins they could hire would be high. They¡¯d likely send a Level 4 professional at minimum.

    ¡°Is it too difficult? That¡¯s why I¡¯ve set the sess fee at one million bells¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­One million bells?¡±

    Oscar pressed his throbbing temples, feeling the pressure that Kilian had hinted at with talk of penalties and bankruptcy, and asked:

    "Just one question. Am I the only person hired for this job?"

    Please, say no.

    But Evelyn avoided his gaze.

    ¡°It seems they¡¯ve spread the word across all the media and mercenary offices; no one wants to take up our request.¡±

    "......"

    And they expect him to do this alone?

    Oscar mentally calcted how much he¡¯d earn from the development funding for the Cadena flu treatment and asked,

    ¡°What¡¯s the penalty for breaching the contract?¡±

    ¡°...Penalty?¡±

    ¡°Yes, let¡¯s call off the job.¡±

    Even with his skills, protecting her in front of an audience of 100,000 was too much.

    For her safety and the well-being of her fans, canceling the request seemed the best choice.

    But just then¡ª

    ¡°...Damn it, so you¡¯re telling me to just cancel the concert? I¡¯ve been working toward this for three years!¡±

    A refined curse echoed through the high-end suite.

    Startled, Oscar turned to Evelyn, but she only sighed deeply with a weary expression.

    ¡®Wait, so the one who cursed just now was...¡¯

    Turning to look, he saw Marin¡¯s expression hadpletely transformed as she demanded indignantly,

    ¡°You¡¯re really funny, aren¡¯t you? Aren¡¯t you supposed to be responsible?¡±

    ¡°...Miss Marin, it seems you¡¯re a bit¡­ agitated.¡±

    ¡°Screw you, jerk. How am I supposed to not be agitated right now?¡±

    The heavenly voice Marin Maria had been using was now spitting harsh curses.

    Suddenly, she tore at her light-pink hair, and the silky wig dropped away, revealing short golden hair underneath.

    ¡®Hold on.¡¯

    Oscar stared in shock at her changed appearance.

    The tips of her exposed ears were covered in shimmering scales.

    As far as he knew, only one race had such features.

    ¡°...A mermaid?¡±

    It was the moment Marin Maria¡¯s true identity was revealed.

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 Chapter 39

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    Chapter 39: The Celestial Voice (2)

    The characteristics of mermaids often found in old stories or fairy tales are simple.

    They¡¯re known for having a stunning voice, are incredibly beautiful, but have the lower body of a fish.

    ¡®But unlike the stories, mermaids can change their lower half at will.¡¯

    This means they could walk onnd just like a human if they wanted to.

    Of course, there were limitations to how long they could keep this form; eventually, they would need to recharge by returning to their fish-like state.

    Marin spoke with a disgusted expression.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m a mermaid. So what? Is this the first time you¡¯ve seen one?¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s not that¡­¡±

    Even in his past life, he had seen mermaids several times.

    In fact, exchanges between humans and mermaids were more active than one might think.

    However, you mostly only saw them near the coast.

    It was rare to see one in a region this far ind.

    Evelyn noticed his thoughts and added an exnation.

    ¡°Marin is a half-blood. So she can maintain her human form longer and doesn¡¯t suffer from homesickness for the sea.¡±

    ¡°Half-blood, as in between a human and a mermaid?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Ah¡­¡±

    Mermaids were known to be exceptionally beautiful, so arranged marriages with other races weremon from long ago.

    Some mermaids lived happily ever after in these marriages, but most sumbed to homesickness for the sea.

    ¡®Once they fall ill from it and eventually die, their mixed-blood children are often abandoned.¡¯

    They were beings that were neither weed onnd nor in the sea.

    Perhaps it was because of this that Marin Maria had taken up singing from a young age¡­

    Marin noticed Oscar¡¯s sympathetic expression and burst out angrily.

    ¡°Damn it! My parents married for love, and they¡¯re both still alive!¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Well, that was fortunate.

    Oscar, feeling awkward, cleared his throat and spoke firmly.

    ¡°Regardless, this isn¡¯t possible. If you go through with this concert, there¡¯s a high chance you¡¯ll die. Not to mention, the audience could be put in danger.¡±

    ¡°¡­I know it¡¯s selfish. But I¡¯ve ced protective artifacts around the audience seats, so they¡¯ll be safe.¡±

    Clenching her fists tightly, Marin met his gaze directly.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    ¡°Even if it means I die, I can¡¯t give up on this concert. I¡¯m fully prepared.¡±

    ¡°Marin!¡±

    Evelyn rebuked her with a stern look, but it didn¡¯t faze her at all.

    ¡°You know too, right? If we back down out of fear here, there won¡¯t be another chance.¡±

    Grinding her teeth, fire sparked in her eyes.

    ¡°¡­For the past three years, I¡¯ve been working toward this one performance. I endured daily discrimination and contempt, smiling as if I didn¡¯t care. I sang until I was out of breath every day, and every night, I stayed up writing songs and lyrics. Now, after all those hellish days, the reward is right in front of me. And you think I should give it up because of some petty jealousy¡­? No way. I can¡¯t.¡±

    Each word she spat out wasden with pent-up anger and sorrow.

    Confronted with this raw emotion, Oscar asked.

    ¡°Why are you so desperate to perform this time? Even if you don¡¯t take the stage, everyone with ears knows you¡¯re the best.¡±

    ¡°¡­As you know, I¡¯m a half-blood, and my mother is human. Naturally, that means my father is a mermaid.¡±

    He nodded once.

    ¡°They live in a fishing vige by the sea. It was a ce where they thought sea homesickness wouldn¡¯t affect them¡­ and even I thought that.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Yes, my father was diagnosed with sea homesickness four years ago.¡±

    Four years¡­

    Usually, when one contracts sea homesickness, they don¡¯t live beyond five years, so he doesn¡¯t have much time left.

    ¡°Do you know why I¡¯m risking my life for this concert? By performing in Baran Dome, I could earn the privilege to perform in front of His Majesty the Emperor as part of the New Year¡¯s festivities.¡±

    ¡°¡­Ah. I see.¡±

    Now he understood.

    He realized what she was aiming for.

    ¡°You figured it out by the look on your face. Yes, if I deliver the best performance before His Majesty, I might receive a few drops of elixir as a reward. And I need that.¡±

    The legendary elixir was rumored to cure any illness, including sea homesickness, without a trace.

    Having realized this, Oscar couldn¡¯t help but be impressed.

    ¡°So, you¡¯ve been nning this since four years ago?¡±

    ¡°¡­I searched everywhere to save my father, but the only thing I¡¯m truly good at is singing. So, I had no choice but to go this route.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Driven by her desire to save her father, the girl from the fishing vige held on to her microphone.

    With a dream to stand on the stage every singer aspired to before he left for heaven, to obtain the medicine he needed.

    ¡®¡­And in just three years, she turned that dream into reality.

    There¡¯s no need for her to exin; I know how difficult that journey must have been.

    She must have pushed through her childlike urges to rest, sleep, and y.

    ¡­Honestly, I feel quite proud of her.

    I almost want to pat her on the head and tell her she did well.¡¯

    ¡°Hmph.¡±

    Oscar inhaled sharply.

    Coming from the backstreets, he never knew who his parents were and, of course, never had a father.

    ¡®But if having a father feels anything like having my master¡­

    I understand all too well that overwhelming urge to save him.¡¯

    With a deep sigh from the depths of his lungs, Oscar spoke.

    ¡°First, I¡¯ll check to make sure the audience¡¯s safety measures are up to my standards. If they are¡­ don¡¯t regret wanting to die on stage.¡±

    ¡°T-That means?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s do it. But first, we¡¯ll need to go over one thing.¡±

    ¡°One thing? What¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s called¡­¡±

    Oscar recalled the word and smirked.

    ¡°A kind of rehearsal.¡±

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    * * *

    Baran¡¯s most luxurious district, with a grand mansion at its highest point.

    This was the ancestral home of the Sweet family.

    Without needing to visit a luxury hotel, one could take in a sweeping view of Baran from here.

    Clink, she swirled her whiskey ss and said,

    ¡°I knew she was stubborn, but I didn¡¯t expect it to this degree.¡±

    ¡°Indeed, does she really not believe we¡¯ll kill her?¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s more like she¡¯s willing to die on that stage if she has to. That kind of stubbornness.¡±

    She thought about the woman who must be staying somewhere in the Grand Baran Hotel, visible in the distance.

    ¡®¡­Marin Maria.¡¯

    When they first met, she was already well-known, while Maria was a fresh rookie.

    She clearly remembered Maria¡¯s eyes when she came to greet her in the waiting room.

    ¡®I realized it the moment I first saw that rustic girl. Ah, those are eyes dreaming the same dream as me.¡¯

    Of course, back then, she didn¡¯t pay much attention.

    After all, anyone could dream, even if it was a foolish, unachievable one.

    ¡®But that arrogant girl¡­ slowly but persistently followed me.¡¯

    And when she came to her senses, that girl had overtaken her.

    The ce that had been expected for her, the next-generation diva and performer for Baran Dome, had begun to feel unstable.

    From that moment on, she tried everything to bring Maria down.

    She subtly spread articles about Maria¡¯s humble, rustic background, which caused quite a stir.

    ¡®Then suddenly, she was cast as a devoted sister figure, which raised her poprity greatly. When I tried ostracizing her with younger singers, her fans noticed something was off, and it was only the other singers who suffered.¡¯

    She had tried several times to bring Maria down, but each time, Maria managed to avoid it by sheer luck.

    ¡®At this point, it¡¯s clear it¡¯s not just luck.¡¯

    Even if no one else noticed, Ara Sweet was sure.

    That seemingly innocent, pure gaze was just a sickening mask.

    Perhaps behind it, she was hiding a venomous personality.

    ¡®¡­Baran Dome.¡¯

    She turned her gaze toward the grand dome in the distance.

    To perform there was her dream, and the dream of every singer.

    Frankly, she never doubted that Marin Maria would one day stand there, even if she found it annoying.

    ¡®But it should be me first.¡¯

    She gripped her whiskey ss tightly.

    If Maria had adhered to the unspoken rule of the industry and deferred the dome to her senior this year, and waited her turn next year, nothing would have happened.

    Her dislike might have ended as mere personal disdain.

    But that stubborn girl had fought tooth and nail to surpass her, and ultimately, she imed the dome.

    ¡®She wants to disgrace me to the end. So, I have no choice but to ept the challenge.¡¯

    A deep smile formed on Ara¡¯s lips.

    ¡®But soon, she¡¯ll realize how foolish it is to antagonize me in this city, where it¡¯s not principles or reason but money, power, and violence that run things. Baran, the free city, is a trap where those lured by dreams of freedom and status get caught in an endless pit.¡¯

    ¡°Oh, by the way, I heard some interesting news.¡±

    She turned to her manager, curious.

    ¡°Interesting news?¡±

    ¡°Yes, it seems like a man is apanying Marin whenever she goes out.¡±

    ¡°A man¡­? A hidden lover?¡±

    ¡°No, it doesn¡¯t seem like that kind of scandal. Probably a bodyguard.¡±

    A bodyguard, huh.

    A chuckle escaped her lips.

    ¡°That is interesting. Where did she even find someone like that?¡±

    ¡°Oh¡­ probably a mercenary agency?¡±

    She shook her head at her manager¡¯s naive guess.

    ¡°All the mercenaries in Baran have already been contacted. I told them that no matter what she¡¯s offering, I¡¯ll pay three times more to make sure no one takes her offer.¡±

    But even if that wasn¡¯t enough, her father was a strong candidate for the next mayor.

    Any mercenary who wanted to keep working in Baran wouldn¡¯t want to cross him.

    She looked back at her manager with a smirk.

    ¡°¡­Shall we test this so-called bodyguard¡¯s skills?¡±

    ¡°You mean to kill him? Got it. I¡¯ll send one or two appropriate guys.¡±

    After her manager left, she sipped her whiskey, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

    If that hard-won bodyguard dies right in front of her, what kind of expression will she make?

    * * *

    To sum it up, he had epted the job.

    After checking out the venue and the audience seats at the dome, it was clear that they had taken all the necessary safety precautions.

    No matter how much they¡¯d invested, the protective artifacts set up there were practically imprable.

    ¡°But was that really thest of our practice? Aren¡¯t we doing anything else?¡±

    Marin Maria asked as they walked along the frozen winter riverbank after rehearsal.

    From her perspective, the ¡°practice¡± he¡¯d suggested had been so simple it was almostughable.

    ¡°Yes, it will be of great help, for sure.¡±

    ¡°¡­Hmm. Alright.¡±

    Nodding, she took a deep breath and smiled.

    ¡°Whew! Then I can finally enjoy my freedom for now. I was too scared to even step outside without Killian around. I¡¯d been relying entirely on room service, so I really appreciate this.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Don¡¯t be fooled by that angelic smile.

    Beyond it lies a demon spewing all kinds of foul words.

    ¡°I¡¯m just doing what I¡¯m paid to do.¡±

    This was a million-bels contract.

    Once this job was done, maybe he could use that money for some decent equipment.

    Just as he was savoring these thoughts¡­

    ¡°¡­¡±

    He sensed a deadly intent aimed in his direction.

    The source was a jogger on the bridge ahead and a middle-aged man ice fishing on the other side of the river.

    ¡®Only two?¡¯

    Oscar sighed as he looked at Marin and Evelyn, who were chatting peacefully.

    No need to rm them unnecessarily.

    ¡ºWind Bullet¡»

    Thunk, thunk.

    Two quiet gunshots sounded, and the two figures copsed without a word.

    ¡°I did my job.¡±

    ¡°Right, I get it, but can you stop boasting now? I¡¯d like to keep the cursing for indoors.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    But I really did earn my pay¡­

    Oscar¡¯s eyes drooped slightly, feeling disappointed.

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 Chapter 40

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    Chapter 40: The Celestial Voice (3)

    The next morning, Ara Sweet asked after hearing the report.

    ¡°They¡¯re dead?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, both of the mercenaries we hired are dead.¡±

    ¡°I guess we found a bodyguard who¡¯s tougher than expected. How good is he?¡±

    ¡°Well, that¡­ I''m not really sure about that.¡±

    She grew annoyed at her manager¡¯s response.

    ¡°What kind of nonsense is that? I told you to go and check it out yourself. You didn¡¯t actually go, did you?¡±

    ¡°Oh, no, I definitely went. I went and watched it myself. But before our mercenaries could even begin their operation, they just dropped dead. When we examined the bodies, they each had a hole in their foreheads.¡±

    ¡°¡­Does that even make sense?¡±

    Ara furrowed her brows.

    Even though she was just a singer, she knew that what happened didn¡¯t make any sense.

    ¡°So you¡¯re saying the other side anticipated this and acted before we even started?¡±

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t understand it either, so I went to the mercenary office to ask. They said it was because they ¡®sensed killing intent.¡¯¡±

    ¡°Killing intent?¡±

    ¡°They said that masters can detect it when someone is determined to kill them. Some can even trace that energy back to pinpoint the other person¡¯s location.¡±

    ¡°So, that means the bodyguard hired by that lowlife is a master?¡±

    ¡°Pretty much.¡±

    ¡°¡­Interesting.¡±

    She had no idea where they found such a mercenary, but it wasn¡¯t a bad thing.

    In fact, hearing about it sparked an even more intriguing idea.

    Rising from her seat, she said,

    ¡°Get the car ready.¡±

    ¡°Where are you going? Shopping?¡±

    ¡°No, I¡¯m going to meet that so-called bodyguard.¡±

    ¡°Why do you want to meet him?¡±n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    ¡°Why else?¡±

    To hire him, of course.

    * * * *

    The private dining room in the sky lounge of the Grand Baran Hotel.

    This luxurious spot was rumored to cost more than an average worker¡¯s monthly sry for a single meal.

    Marin, who entered this extravagant space as if it were her own living room, asked,

    ¡°So? Isn¡¯t the atmosphere and view here amazing? And the food¡¯s fantastic, too.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    This woman¡ªevery time she was in a slightly enclosed space, she instantly switched to casual speech.

    Oscar, determined to fix that habit, spoke up.

    ¡°Please be more careful with your words outside. Even in this room, there are listening devices.¡±

    ¡°¡­What?¡±

    Marin¡¯s pupils shook as if in an earthquake.

    The moment Evelyn stood up to meet the manager and resolve the issue¡ª

    ¡°Sit down. I already disabled them the moment we entered.¡±

    Oscar spoke nonchntly.

    Ever since he¡¯d seen a speaker installed in his own room, it had be a habit to cast a scanning spell wherever he went.

    ¡°Whew, saved. I almost got recorded saying something outrageous.¡±

    ¡°You know, when it¡¯s just the two of us, nothing like this ever happens, but now that Killian¡¯s here, you seem much more rxed.¡±

    ¡°Wh-what nonsense! What does he have to do with anything?!¡±

    While Marin spent over ten minutes denying it, the dishes were brought out, filling the circr tablepletely.

    ¡°Here, you¡¯ve probably never seen any of these before, but start with this.¡±

    Marin excitedly pushed a te forward.

    ¡°These are dumplings from the Yan Empire. And by the way, they¡¯re delicious. Take one bite, and the broth just¡­¡±

    ¡°I know. I¡¯ve eaten enough of them in the past to be sick of them.¡±

    Marin tilted her head in curiosity at his response.

    ¡°That¡¯s strange? I heard that all the White Tower mages were poor, but I guess that¡¯s not really true?¡±

    ¡°Marin, sometimes telling the truth can hurt the other person.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Did they think he was a beggar?

    Oscar¡¯s eyebrow twitched as he retorted,

    ¡°Yes, there was a brief, very brief time when the White Tower had some financial struggles, but ever since our recent sess with the potion business, we¡¯re quite wealthy.¡±

    ¡°Oh, now that you mention it, I think I read about it in the news. You developed some cold medicine, right?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not cold medicine, it¡¯s a treatment and vine for Cadena flu.¡±

    ¡°Oh, right. I heard the person who developed it is a genius.¡±

    ¡°I think I heard that, too. People said he was once recognized as a famous prodigy.¡±

    Of course, that genius they were talking about was none other than himself.

    Marin, who was chatting with Evelyn, turned and asked him,

    ¡°So since you¡¯re in the same tower, you must be at least somewhat acquainted?¡±

    ¡°Yes, well, we cross paths every now and then¡­¡±

    Mostly in the mirror¡­

    Just as he wished for the conversation to change, the door opened, and the manager entered.

    ¡°Oh my, Manager! The food here is still as delicious as ever~¡±

    Marin put on an angelic smile and greeted him, but it wasn¡¯t the manager who responded.

    Instead, a woman with sunsses, standing behind him, spoke up.

    ¡°That¡¯s good to hear. Eat as much as you want; I already took care of the bill.¡±

    The moment the woman smirked, both Marin and Evelyn¡¯s faces went rigid.

    Judging from their reaction, it was obvious who she was.

    ¡®That woman¡­ Ara Sweet¡­¡¯

    Marin, surprised to meet such an unexpected guest, forced a smile and spoke up.

    ¡°Manager? Allowing someone into a private dining room during our meal? What¡¯s going on?¡±

    ¡°Oh, she said she¡¯s a close senior and just wanted to say hello.¡±

    The manager¡¯s expression showed no sign of hesitation, nor did he seem nervous.

    It was a reminder of how much power this woman wielded in the city.

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    ¡°¡­Let¡¯s go. I¡¯ve lost my appetite.¡±

    The fact that Marin, even in her angel mode, would say something so strong indicated just how angry she was.

    As the two stood up, Ara crossed her arms and spoke casually.

    ¡°If you¡¯re going, just you and your manager should leave. I need a word with your bodyguard.¡±

    ¡°¡­What would you have to discuss with my bodyguard?¡±

    ¡°Well, business.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll have to look for someone else; he won¡¯t be free anytime soon.¡±

    "Well, isn''t it up to the individual to decide? If someone else covers your contract cancetion fee and offers ten times the pay... wouldn''t your opinion change? What do you think?"

    With a smug smile, she exuded a confidence that left no doubt about her belief: There''s no way you''ll refuse my offer.

    Marin and Evelyn, visibly anxious, exchanged nervous nces.

    "Ten times the pay? That''s an offer I can''t refuse. Fine."

    Hearing this, Marin''s eye twitched in shock, and Evelyn''s face darkened.

    Ara, as if she''d expected this oue, simply grinned smugly, watching the two.

    Oscar, who had been watching the scene, tilted his head and asked,

    "But do you even know what my pay is to offer ten times that?"

    "It doesn''t matter. I have plenty of money."

    "Wow, I like your straightforwardness. So my fee is a hundred thousand bells, meaning you''d need to pay a million bells."

    Ara Sweet paused, startled.

    The amount was far higher than she''d anticipated.

    ¡®One hundred thousand in pay? She really went all out.¡¯

    Realizing the circumstances, she nodded in acknowledgment.

    "Fine. A million."

    "Oh, wait. I just remembered¡ªthe advance was only one hundred thousand, but the full contract is actually one million, one hundred thousand. So...that would make it eleven million bells. All right. As soon as I see the transfer, I¡¯ll head over. Fair transaction, right?"

    "..."

    Ara Sweet''s body trembled slightly.

    It dawned on her that he was mocking her.

    She clenched her lips tightly, ring at him as if she could kill him with her eyes.

    Her ice-cold stare pierced through her sunsses.

    "And what''s your name?"

    "My name is Killian Lockwood, the Saint of the White Tower."

    "Killian Lockwood... Well, I hope you look forward to what''sing. Your life is about to get a lot more interesting."

    If a certain someone lying in a hospital bed in Baran had heard her, they''d have been shocked.

    But what does it matter?

    If he wanted to be here, he should havee himself.

    In response to her venomous curse, Oscar merely shrugged.

    "If things get interesting, great. My life is already pretty dynamic, you know."

    He wasn¡¯t wrong.

    After all, he''d fought with tower masters, shed with demons, ande back to life after being dead¡­ He''d been through it all.

    "......"

    Ara Sweet red at him, unwilling to utter another word, then swiftly left the room.

    The manager, who had been warily observing the situation, dashed out after her, as if a storm had just passed through.

    "Why didn¡¯t you take it? That was a whole million bells,"

    Marin asked abruptly.

    "Do you think I epted this contract just for the money?"

    "Weren''t you just unable to cancel it because there''s no cancetion penalty?"

    "......"

    To some extent, that was true, but¡­

    This woman, seriously.

    Oscar let out a soft sigh and revealed his true thoughts.

    "You said you wanted to save your father, right? I really hope you achieve that dream."

    He hadn¡¯t even had the chance to save his master, a man who¡¯d been like a father to him.

    That regret haunted him, so he couldn¡¯t just stand by when he saw people like her.

    "....."

    Marin Maria turned her back, muttering a single word.

    "...Thank you."

    It was the first time she''d ever expressed genuine gratitude to someone other than her parents or Evelyn.

    * * * * *

    Crash!

    "Those insolent fools!"

    Back in her room, Ara threw a whiskey ss at the wall in a fit of rage.

    Those sses, worth thousands of bells each, meant nothing to her in that moment.

    She¡¯d traveled a long way, hoping to see that lowly guard''s face twist in defeat, only to return humiliated.

    "¡­Bring in the Udok brothers right away."

    "Uh, y-yes, ma¡¯am."

    Although they were technically allies, even the manager was intimidated by them.

    But right now, refusing her icymand would be far more frightening.

    Soon after, the summoned brothers entered the room.

    Ara looked at them and began to speak.

    "The n has changed a bit."

    "Hmm? What is it?"

    "Weren''t we originally going to kill the manager once the show started, and injure the singer so she could never use her voice again?"

    "That''s right. But now, there¡¯s one more person to eliminate."

    She needed to make Killian Lockwood, the guard who had dared to mock her, suffer as well.

    "He¡¯s Marin''s guard. Kill him slowly and painfully."

    "As you wish. And what about the women?"

    "Proceed as nned. Kill the manager and ensure Marin can never sing again."

    "Heh, I like this n more every time I hear it."

    "But you know what this means, right? You''ll need to pay extra with one more person to kill."

    "Fine."

    It wasn¡¯t as if the cost would reach eleven million bells anyway.

    She could just consider it the money she¡¯d intended to spend on that guard.

    ¡®I''ll make it clear. Nobody disregards me in this city and gets away with it.¡¯

    They¡¯d painfully understand the price of their disrespect in a few days.

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 Chapter 41

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    Chapter 41: The Celestial Voice (4)

    It was a clear afternoon in November.

    A crowd of 100,000 people gathered at the Baran Dome.

    "Is 100,000 a lot? It sounds like a big number, but seeing it in person really makes it feel massive, right?"

    Evelyn asked as she looked at the waiting spectators.

    "One hundred thousand people... Yes, it is,"

    Oscar replied.

    He had seen gatherings of millions during the wars against the demons, but this felt different.

    The atmosphere was tense back then, but now, the crowd''s faces were full of excitement and anticipation.

    If he captured this scene in a photobeled "Feeling of 100,000," it would probably sell well.

    "Stop daydreaming and focus!"

    Marin jabbed him in the side as she scrutinised the crowd through her binocrs.

    "Focus on what, exactly?"

    "Someone here wants me dead, remember? We need to spot anyone acting suspicious."

    "Oh, that."

    Oscar chuckled and shook his head.

    "If there''s an assassin, they''re probably already inside the dome."

    "What? That''s impossible! The audience hasn¡¯t even started entering yet."

    "What kind of assassin would enter by paying for a ticket to kill their target?"

    Realizing the truth in his words, Marin¡¯s face turned slightly red.

    "Then how would they get in?"

    "Through the proper channels,"

    Oscar shrugged with a smirk.

    "That doesn¡¯t even make sense with what you just said! Are you teasing me?"

    "Top-ss assassins can adapt to any situation and y any role with great acting skills. Especially if they have backing, like Ara Sweet. Getting into Baran Dome as a worker would be child''s y."

    "So¡­ does that mean there¡¯s an assassin working among our staff? Good heavens!"

    "No, by now, they''re probably...¡±

    Oscar nced at his wristwatch.

    There were still two hours until the performance started.

    "¡­hiding somewhere after abandoning their post."

    * * *

    "Hey, what¡¯s wrong with spotlight #3? Did they rece the bulb? Check it."

    "Costume team! Line up the recement outfits in the correct order! Wait, what size is this? It¡¯s a size too big!"

    A singer shines brilliantly on stage only because of the crew frantically working backstage to support them.

    ¡°Phew, it¡¯s been ages since I¡¯ve been this crazy busy before a performance.¡±

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s Marin¡¯s first solo concert, and the venue is none other than the Baran Dome.¡±

    "True. I thought I had enough experience, but even for me, this is a whole new level."

    Staff close to Marin hade to Baran to help with her concert.

    They had been preparing for a month, but on the actual day, all they could see were the things they¡¯d missed.

    "Still, we were short-handed, but the local workers we hired did a surprisingly good job, so we¡¯re on schedule."

    "Baran is a city of booze and gambling. If you pay enough, skilled hands are everywhere."

    At that moment, the lighting director approached them urgently.

    "Hey, have any of you seen the newest member of the lighting team?"

    "The newbie?"

    "You know, the well-built guy. He went off to rece a bulb and never came back. We¡¯re short on time!"

    "Is he one of the local hires from Baran?"

    The lighting director¡¯s eyes widened at the question.

    "Yes, he is. How did you know?"

    "It¡¯s typical for local hires here. He¡¯s either drinking or his hands are itching for the casino. Yesterday, another guy vanished from the production team. Probably the same story."

    "Of course. That exins it."

    Two workers had disappeared over thest two days without saying a word.

    It wasmon enough in this industry that no one gave it much thought.

    "By the way, I couldn¡¯t help but overhear. What did those two look like?"

    Oscar Crucian was the only one who took it seriously.

    * * *

    On the third floor of Baran Dome, in the men''s restroom, a cubicle at the far end had a [Under Repair] sign hanging on the door, firmly locked.

    "......"

    The man squatting on the toilet checked his watch, then stood up slowly.

    ¡®The show should start soon. It¡¯s time to move.¡¯

    Crack, snap!

    He stretched his stiff limbs, his face showing signs of deep irritation.

    ¡®Who would¡¯ve thought I¡¯d be stuck waiting in this dump for an entire day?¡¯

    But for the payout, he could put up with the difort.

    If this job went well, he and his brother would receive 5 million bels.

    This was also their st job¡¯ together, and it could be a fond memoryter on.

    ¡®First, I meet up with Dokgo and locate that bodyguard.¡¯

    They were proud assassins from Yan who specialized in poisons and hidden weapons, ranking among the top three in Baran.

    But after researching their target, they knew they needed to team up.

    Killian Lockwood.

    Known as the ''rising star'' from the White Tower, one of the four great towers of magic.

    ¡®Hisbat style is a mix of physical enhancement and rapid movement.¡¯

    He was arrogant to the core, both in looks and actions, and that irritated them.

    Disclosing one¡¯s name in their line of work was as good as revealing a weakness.

    ¡®It¡¯s just a shame for him that he¡¯ll be facing us at the height of his arrogance.¡¯

    They were infamous in Baran, especially for assassinations.

    The rendezvous point was Room 403, a floor above.

    As the man pushed open the cubicle door, he froze.

    "......."

    The target was washing his hands at the sink, his back turned.

    No one else was in the restroom.

    It was the perfect moment to strike.

    But his target was a Level 4, just like him.

    Without his brother, a sessful attack wasn¡¯t guaranteed.

    If he missed, the oue could be fatal.

    Reluctantly, he held back his urge to strike and instead followed the n to regroup with his brother.

    He casually removed the [Under Repair] sign and started to walk past the sinks.

    The sound of running water filled the silence.

    The target suddenly murmured,

    "Having calluses on your fingertips rather than your palms means you handle weapons, doesn¡¯t it?"

    ncing sideways, the man saw his reflection in the mirror.

    Those red eyes were watching him.

    "Are you, by chance, an assassin?"n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    ".....!"

    Had he been found out?

    His mind raced. Should he throw a weapon now?

    Had his identity really been exposed?

    If it had, would it be wiser to just run?

    Seeing his hesitation, Oscar nodded slightly.

    "The fact that you''re thinking it over confirms it. An assassin."

    St!

    Oscar tossed a bar of soap behind him without looking back.

    ".......!"

    Instinctively sensing he couldn¡¯t avoid the fight, Woojin made the best choice he could under the circumstances.

    ¡®Instead of taking a hit, I¡¯ll just scatter my own weapons too.¡¯

    His hands flicked open as he firmed up his resolve, scattering hundreds of needles.

    [Trantor - ra]

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    A side note: today, his condition was perfect.

    He could feel every sensation through his fingertips.

    ¡®This time, there¡¯s no way they¡¯ll dodge it.¡¯

    That certainty arose in him just as¡ª

    Crack!

    "¡­Ugh?!"

    His right shoulder shattered under the impact of soap.

    Who would¡¯ve guessed that much mana had beenpressed into a bar of soap?

    ¡®But no matter.¡¯

    Exchanging his opponent¡¯s life for his own shoulder?

    Not a bad trade.

    He lifted one corner of his mouth, awaiting the inevitable scream.

    ¡®No matter how skilled they are in martial arts, this is not the kind of attack one can avoid. Even if they¡¯re lucky enough to evade a few needles¡ªmaybe even dozens¡ªthey can¡¯t dodge all hundreds of them.¡¯

    ¡°Guh¡­ Aaaagh!¡±

    A hundred needles lodged into the opponent''s face, and they copsed, screaming.

    Twitch.

    Watching their body convulse like an aspen tree, it was clear the poison had spreadpletely.

    It was an instant kill.

    ¡°Hah¡­ Hah¡­¡±

    Wiping the sweat from his brow, Woojin let out a breath of relief.

    In truth, being a weapon specialist, closebat wasn¡¯t his strength.

    It was frustrating, but it was also the reason he often yed second fiddle to his younger brother.

    ¡®This opponent must be an inexperienced rookie¡ªlucky me.¡¯

    The tips of his needles were coated in a lethal poison his younger brother Dokgo used.

    One prick was fatal enough, but hundreds of needle pricks?

    Even if the Pope himself were to arrive, they wouldn¡¯t be able to save him.

    ¡®But I better finish them off just in case. There are people immune to poison out there, after all.¡¯

    He drew a dagger from his belt with his good left hand and approached the corpse, thrusting with all his might at the neck.

    ¡°¡­!?¡±

    It wouldn¡¯t go in.

    The dagger seemed to hit an invisible wall, stopping just short of piercing their skin.

    ¡®This is¡­ wind?¡¯

    A powerful gust was pushing his dagger back.

    The moment he realized this, Woojin¡¯s face went pale.

    ¡°No way¡­¡±

    And those needles he thought had lodged into their face?

    Just as that thought urred, the opponent¡¯s hand suddenly shot up, grabbing his wrist.

    Simultaneously, tter-tter!

    Hundreds of needles that had been fixed in ce by the wind dropped to the ground.

    ¡°This¡­ this is impossible¡­¡±

    It was a level of magical control so precise it sent chills down his spine.

    Had even a single needle fallen, or been positioned just a little off, he would have noticed something was amiss.

    ¡®This guy is just a level 4 mage? Ridiculous!¡¯

    The moment Woojin realized something had gone terribly wrong¡ª

    Click.

    The barrel of a sawed-off shotgun in the opponent¡¯s opposite hand pointed under his chin.

    ¡°No¡­ don¡¯t.¡±

    As Woojin¡¯s trembling voice escaped, knowing what was about to happen¡ª

    ¡°It¡¯s happening.¡±

    Bang!

    His head was blown off.

    * * *

    By 8 p.m., the stage lights at the Baran Dome switched off simultaneously, plunging the entire dome into darkness.

    The audience held their breath, faces filled with excitement as they waited for someone.

    Thud, thud, thud!

    A familiar, intense drumbeat pulsed from the stage.

    ¡°It¡¯s her! It¡¯s Sunny Smile!¡±

    ¡°I knew this would be the first song.¡±

    ¡°Ah, I¡¯ve been a fan of Marin since the first time I heard this song.¡±

    It was Marin Maria¡¯s debut track, ¡°Sunny Smile.¡±

    The unique, bright, and upbeat melody, along with her beautiful voice, echoed through everyone¡¯s ears.

    ¡ªLike warm sunlight, your dazzling smile ? A magic that brightens the whole world.

    As the young diva took the stage, her stunning live performance electrified the crowd.

    The cheers were deafening, ringing in everyone¡¯s ears and shaking the ground beneath their feet.

    ¡°...He¡¯ste.¡±

    Dokgo, Woojin¡¯s younger brother, nced impatiently at his wristwatch, feeling the vibrations.

    His brother hadn¡¯t shown up at the appointed ce, despite the agreed-upon time.

    ¡®Nothing¡¯s happened to him¡­ has it?¡¯

    Imagining the worst, he started to worry.

    Just then, click, ck.

    He heard footsteps echoing from the hallway, and relief washed over him.

    ¡°Phew¡­¡±

    Most people might think all footsteps sound the same, but to a veteran assassin, every person had their own sound.

    There was no mistaking his brother¡¯s footsteps.

    ¡®What on earth kept you?¡¯

    Just as he prepared to give his brother a scolding, he realized the footsteps had walked right past the supply closet.

    ¡®That idiot¡­¡¯

    He¡¯d reminded him several times toe to Room 407 on the 4th floor this time.

    Muttering to himself, Dokgo opened the supply closet door and called out irritably.

    ¡°Bro! Over here¡­¡±

    His voice trailed off when he saw the back of a stranger.

    Freeze.

    The figure imitating his brother¡¯s footsteps halted and slowly turned around.

    ¡°Oh, there you are, hiding?¡±

    It was the red-eyed mage¡ªone of the targets of this mission.

    [Trantor - ra]

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 Chapter 42

    [Trantor - ra]

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    Chapter 42: The Celestial Voice (5)

    "........"

    As soon as Dokgo faced his opponent, he understood.

    The only family who had been with him for decades was now lost, never to return.

    "How did he die?"

    "His head was blown to pieces."

    "¡­¡­Then, at least it must have been painless."

    Contrary to what one might expect, Dokgo neither showed much agitation nor did he reveal any intense bloodlust.

    Instead, he spoke in a calm, almost bittersweet voice.

    "Well, I always figured this day woulde. I had a feeling he¡¯d die before me. His skills didn¡¯t match his filthy personality, and he was never very cautious."

    "........"

    "But still, now that it¡¯s happened, it does feel a bit disappointing. This was supposed to be ourst job together."

    "Did you n to retire?"

    "No way, I¡¯m far too young for that. I was just offered a spot at the top of the field."

    The top of the field.

    Oscar chuckled in response.

    "Interesting. So, it¡¯s a battle between an assassin from the top and a mage from the top?"

    "Huh? Isn¡¯t White Tower ranked at the bottom? I hear they¡¯re usuallyst or second tost."

    ¡°.... It''ll be different this year."

    He muttered, his face slightly flushed, feeling like a die-hard fan of a sports team that finishedst every season.

    Hearing that, Dokgo opened his mouth to speak.

    "It seems you don¡¯t know much. Being the best in the field means¡­"

    Like a faint mist, a violet aura of magic seeped from his body.

    Exposed to this sticky energy, the hallway walls and ceiling slowly began to melt.

    "This is what it takes to get to the top."

    ¡°¡­¡­¡­¡­Poisonous Qi?¡±

    Oscar frowned.

    Given that his opponent was an assassin, he had expected someone with either enhancement or speed skills, not someone with such a troublesome, unique technique.

    "Cool, right? And when I condense it like this¡­"

    The purple aura, which had been spreading like mist, gathered into a dense, fist-sized sphere.

    "......."

    The poisonous energy was so intense that simply standing in the same space made his head spin.

    Dokgo flicked the sphere with his finger.

    Bam! Sizzle!

    The sphere shot toward the wall, melting the concrete as if it were chocte left out in the sun.

    "So, what do you think? Looks deadly, doesn¡¯t it? Imagine what would happen if a person were hit by it."

    At that very moment¡ª

    Sizzle!

    The poisonous sphere shot out, melting the wall to Oscar¡¯s left.

    ".......!"

    He quickly jerked his head to avoid it, but Dokgoughed with a sinister grin.

    "Oh, I forgot to mention that even a slight touch will poison you. It might already be toote for you."

    Of course, he hadn¡¯t really forgotten; he just hadn¡¯t said it on purpose.

    Oscar nodded knowingly.

    "I know. It looked obvious."

    "......What? Why do you look so unaffected?"

    Dokgo''s eyes went wide.

    Normally, his opponent should be gasping for air or paralyzed by now.

    "It¡¯s simple. I¡¯ve surrounded myself with magic, so no outside air is reaching my body."

    "¡­¡­Then you can¡¯t breathe?"

    "I¡¯m generating clean oxygen within my body."

    For a moment, Dokgo¡¯s face turned dumbfounded.

    "Is that even possible?"

    "This is the kind of thing you need to be able to do to be called the best."

    He''d taken action as soon as he realized how potent his opponent¡¯s poison was.

    After all, he wasn¡¯t new to facing people who specialized in toxins, given his history as the former Master of the Tower.

    "¡­¡­Interesting. So it wasn¡¯t just a coincidence that you killed my brother?"

    Dokgo smirked and casually flicked his fingers.

    In that instant, the poison broke into dozens of fragments and shot toward Oscar like a machine gun.

    ¡ºeleration¡»

    Oscar heightened his physical speed, focusing magic in his eyes.

    ''I¡¯ll break through at once.''

    Along the way, he dodged every speck of poison, regardless of size.

    He wasn¡¯t merely worried about getting drenched like in a drizzle.

    Each drop of poison carried lethal power, enough to be considered an instant-kill.

    "Huh?"

    With his hands sped behind his back, Dokgoughed in disbelief.

    Floor, walls, ceiling¡ªthe opponent was using the entire corridor three-dimensionally to avoid every bit of poison.

    "Wait, did he really dodge them all? This is beyond a Level 4 skill."

    Suddenly, Dokgo¡¯s eyes dropped to see Oscar closing the distance.

    A sawn-off shotgun named Trinity was aimed at his chin.

    Without hesitation, Oscar pulled the trigger.

    Bang! Bang!

    ¡ºeleration¡» ¡ºEnhancement¡», ¡ºPration¡».

    These three spells werebined in a single weapon, which meant one thing.

    Brutally fast, brutally strong, and brutally piercing.

    "¡­¡­Whoa. That was close."

    Sizzle!

    But even that extraordinary bullet melted, unable to prate the poisonous barrier Dokgo had wrapped around his chin.

    Their eyes met up close, and Dokgo sneered.

    "Got it. My idiot brother must¡¯ve been killed by this, huh?"

    ".......!"

    Crack!

    With ghost-like speed, Dokgo''s kicknded squarely in Oscar¡¯s sr plexus.

    Oscar was sent flying sideways, shattering a window and falling out of the building.

    "Agh¡­ Ugh¡­"

    The pain was so intense that his mind went nk, and he couldn¡¯t even scream.

    Both legs were broken, and he couldn¡¯t feel strength in his left arm.

    Even though he had summoned a wind shield at thest moment, the damage was this severe, revealing the overwhelming difference in physical power and mana reserves.

    It was a gap that couldn¡¯t be closed by experience alone.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

    "Wow, you¡¯re really hurt. That must be painful."

    Dokgo leisurely descended the stairs as he spoke.

    "So, shall we finish this?"

    Even as he said this, Dokgo¡¯s gaze remained fixed on Trinity.

    As if he was certain that, without it, nothing Oscar did could harm him.

    "Ugh¡­ grrr¡­"

    Oscar gritted his teeth as he lifted his upper body, and Dokgo scratched the back of his head.

    "Why don¡¯t you just stay down? The fight seems over. No need to be stubborn."

    In response, Oscar raised his trembling right hand, loaded his weapon, and aimed it at his opponent.

    So he ns to die fighting, even if it means death.

    "They say you''re a warrior of the forest. You''re pretty tough, aren''t you?"

    Respecting his resolve, Dokgo gathered his magic.

    Bang! Bang!

    [Trantor - ra]

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    Trinity spat out mes once more.

    "I told you, it''s useless."

    Dokgo''s poisonous qi not only melted the bullets but even swallowed Trinity itself.

    Sssssss!

    The gun, a legacy from Gunslinger Jack, melted away.

    "Now, it¡¯s really goodbye."

    As Dokgo prepared to throw his elongated toxic de like a spear...

    Pop! Pop-pop-pop-pop!

    -Waaaahhhhh!

    Suddenly, fireworks exploded from the stage, and a roar even louder than before erupted.

    "¡­She remembered well."

    Hearing the deafening cheers, Oscar smiled faintly.

    -We''ll rehearse just one thing. It¡¯s simple.

    All he had taught Marin was one thing.

    -When you hear two gunshots from backstage, set off the fireworks and get the crowd to cheer as loudly as possible.

    That cheer would soon be his weapon.

    Oscar drew in his magic,pleting a spell.

    ¡ºBinding Sound¡»

    The entire dome of Baran was filled with thebined noise of cheers and fireworks.

    Zzzzzz...

    Above the dome, it sounded like the cries of hundreds of thousands of cicadas in unison.

    "...What the hell is this?"

    Sensing an ominous threat, Dokgo hastily enveloped himself in all his mana for protection.

    Using up all his remaining power, Oscar transformed the sound into another spell.

    ¡ºNoise Wave¡»

    Zzzzzz!

    Like a thunderbolt from the sky, the sound wave struck Dokgo square on the crown of his head.

    "Ugh... ughhh..."

    Dokgo couldn''t even scream properly, his body convulsing as if electrocuted.

    Blood was already streaming from his ears.

    Even in this state, Dokgo red at him with bloodshot eyes.

    ¡®¡­What a tenacious bastard.¡¯

    His determination was truly extraordinary.

    Despite his condition, he had tried to kill him with a toxic de.

    But now that he had lost his hearing, he was effectively disoriented.

    "Ughhh!"

    The toxic de he aimed at Oscar flew off in the wrong direction.

    Seeing this, Oscar gathered his remaining magic andpleted another spell.

    ¡ºWind Cutter¡»

    The de of wind flew faster than ever and shed Dokgo''s neck.

    "..."

    Dokgo copsed to his knees and died on the spot.

    Confirming the oue, Oscar finally allowed himself to copse, lying back.

    "Hah... hah. That¡¯s what it means to be the best in the business, kid."

    Among all the opponents he had faced, this one was the strongest.

    At his current level, he couldn¡¯t guarantee victory if they fought again.

    ¡®Strong foes like that will probably keep appearing out of nowhere.¡¯

    Thinking of this, he knew he needed to regain his full strength as soon as possible.

    ¡®But right now... that can wait. First, let¡¯s... just rest.¡¯

    Exhausted, Oscar closed his eyes and fainted.

    * * *

    A Hotel Room in Baran.

    "Hmph, hmm."

    A woman sat cross-legged on a sofa, humming as she read the newspaper.

    Just then, a man entered the room and asked,

    "Senior, I''ve got good news and bad news. Which one would you like first?"

    "Good news, always."

    "That new recruit¡¯s brother, the one we were supposed to take in¡­ he¡¯s dead."

    "Oh, that''s genuinely good news."

    The woman with ash-gray hair sparkled with delight.

    She had found a gem of an assassin in this city.

    His only weakness was his brother.

    She had been debating whether to kill his brother once his initiation wasplete, so it was one less worry.

    "Okay, so what¡¯s the bad news?"

    "Well... the recruit died too."

    "..."

    What nonsense is this?

    Her expression turned cold, her eyes narrowing.

    "Would you like me to make some new bad news? Want to join them?"

    "D-Don¡¯t be mad at me. Apparently, your younger brother killed him."

    "...What?"

    She folded her newspaper and leaned forward, reaching out her hand.

    The junior man nervously handed her a photo.

    "This is him, right? Killian Lockwood, your younger brother. Seems he was hired as security for the opposition."

    "..."

    There were two photos.

    One showed a bodyguard following behind Marin Maria on an outing, and the other showed the same bodyguard being carried out on a stretcher from the Baran dome.

    As she closely examined the photos, one corner of her mouth twisted slightly.

    "And who do you think this is?"

    "...The Saint of the White Tower, isn¡¯t that your younger brother?"

    Realizing she was entering a dark mood, the junior''s voice became cautious.

    Crossing her at a time like this was a quick way to get hurt, regardless of seniority.

    "...I don¡¯t know. Has his face changed that much since Ist saw him?"

    No way.

    The person in the photos wasn¡¯t her brother.

    Just some insolent fool pretending to be him.

    The woman brushed off her seat, turned her head, and gazed out the hotel window.

    Her crimson eyes sparkled like jewels.

    "I need to see this face in person. Just who does this bastard think he is... pretending to be my brother."

    [Trantor - ra]

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 Chapter 43

    [Trantor - ra]

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    Chapter 43: The Celestial Voice (6)

    "Hey, are you sure it''s okay for you to be moving around? You''re not just putting up a front, are you?"

    "Why would I bluff? Want me to run ap along the riverside just to prove it?"

    Oscar casually brushed himself off and stood up after only three days.

    It wasn''t a minor injury, but thanks to Marin spending a lot of money to call in a high-ranking priest, he was able to recover quickly.

    "You never know. There could be aftereffects or something. Why not rest for a few more days?"

    "I''ve got too much work to do."

    "Tch. You''re so stubborn. Fine, let''s settle the payment first."

    Marin handed him an envelope.

    "Here''s the promised 1 million bel. I added an extra 100,000 bel as a thank-you."

    "Thank you. I''ll make good use of it."

    With this, he should buy some gear or maybe some elixirs.

    The recent job made him realize how uneasy he felt if he didn¡¯t get stronger as soon as possible.

    "I''m leaving this city today."

    Marin, arms crossed, looked out at the cityscape.

    "That crazy witch Ara Sweet, who knows what she''ll do next. I''m too scared to stay here any longer."

    "I think that''s a wise decision."

    "What about you?"

    "Unfortunately, I still have some business left in this city."

    "¡­Be careful. She''s probably on edge right now and could do anything."

    "I''m not worried."

    All he has to do is remove the lens and wipe off the tattoo on his face.

    Responding as if it were no big deal, Marin squinted her eyes and nodded.

    "Well, I''m sure you''ll handle it just fine. Judging by your skills, you won¡¯t be the one getting beaten up out there."

    "Of course not. If anything, it¡¯s my opponents who should be worried."

    They exchanged smiles briefly.

    Marin stretched her arms up with a big yawn.

    "Ahhh, who cares! I''m off to sing for His Majesty the Emperor and receive my elixir!"

    "Congrattions again. I¡¯m sure your father will be up from his sickbed soon, too."

    "¡­Thank you, really. It''s all thanks to you."

    As he shook her extended hand, an unexpected question came out of nowhere.

    "But grateful as I am, are you really not going to tell me your real name?"

    "¡­!"

    Oscar¡¯s pupils widened in shock.

    "¡­What do you mean?"

    "Hey, I¡¯ve been a singer for three years now. You think I wouldn¡¯t notice you wearing colored contacts? I realized it from the moment we first met."

    With a stunnedugh, Oscar asked back.

    "If you knew I was an impostor, why did you hire me?"

    "Well¡­ when you talked about my father, the expression on your face and the look in your eyes¡­ It was like looking into a mirror. I thought, ''This guy has the same pain as me. Why not take a gamble and trust him?''"

    "¡­You live quite recklessly yourself, Marin."

    "Heh, so what? Are you going to tell me your real name or not?"

    Smiling gently, Oscar decided there was no point in hiding it now that he was found out.

    "My name is Oscar Crucian."

    "¡­Wait, I think I¡¯ve heard that name somewhere."

    As Marin furrowed her brows in thought, Evelyn whispered quietly.

    "You mentioned it during dinnerst time. He¡¯s the one who created the cure for Cadena Flu."

    "Oh! That genius guy, right?"

    Marin looked at him with newfound curiosity, sizing him up from head to toe.

    "Hmm. You don''t look like a genius to me."

    "You don''t look like the world''s top diva either, Marin. You seem pretty average yourself."

    "What? Excuse me? What part of this beauty looks average?"

    She scoffed, tilting her chin up arrogantly.

    "Just you wait. In a few days¡ªor even a few hours¡ªyou''ll regret it. Everyone you pass on the street will look like a squid inparison to me."

    "To be honest, you''re not quite at that level."

    "¡­You could at least lie and say something nice. You¡¯re so stingy."

    Marin turned her head with a pout and muttered in a small voice.

    "Goodbye. You were the best bodyguard I¡¯ve ever had."

    Her cute reaction made Oscar smile brightly.

    "And you were the best diva I¡¯ve ever seen."

    * * *

    That afternoon, Oscar met Killian at a caf¨¦¡¯s outdoor terrace.

    "You''re here. How¡¯s your body holding up?"

    "I¡¯ve fully recovered. But shouldn¡¯t I be asking you that?"

    Knowing from the news how injured Killian had been, Oscar replied.

    "I¡¯m fine too. My employer brought in a high-ranking priest for me."

    "Ah, then there''s no need to worry."

    "I just came from picking up my payment. Want me to treat you?"

    "Of course. A warrior of the forest never shamelessly ims credit for others'' achievements."

    As expected of a forest warrior¡ªhe¡¯s overflowing with honor and integrity.

    "Here''s your apple juice and espresso."

    "I¡¯ll take the coffee. Here, a tip for you."

    Oscar said with a rxed smile, and Killian''s eyes widened in surprise.

    Once the server left, Killian leaned in closer and lowered his voice.

    "What¡¯s going on?"

    "What do you mean?"

    "When did you be so sociable?"

    "¡­Are you seriously asking because I talked with a server?"

    "Absolutely. I used to think no one had worse social skills than you."

    ¡­Really?

    Was the old Oscar really that bad?

    If a forest warrior says so¡­ Just how hopeless was he?

    Oscar clicked his tongue and shrugged.

    "Well, it¡¯s not that hard. Want me to teach you sometime?"

    "Really?"

    Killian suddenly stood up, pounding his chest with his fist.

    "Of course! Teach me how to improve my social skills too!"

    "Calm down and take a seat first. Once you know this, it''s actually pretty simple. It''s almost like magic."

    "Magic is difficult."

    "Oh, sorry. Then think of it like fighting."

    "Fighting? That sounds easy."

    Oscar immediately adjusted his approach for a personalized lesson by recognising the other person''s level.

    As a side note, Oscar was quite skilled at teaching forest warriors.

    He even gave simr lessons to this guy''s father back in the day.

    "If you meet someone new and don''t know what to say, just start with apliment."

    "Apliment?"

    "Yeah, the key is to lower their guard. This technique works especially well with people who sharemon ground with you, like hobbies or style."

    "Oh..."

    The other person seemed to have a moment of realization, as if something clicked in his mind.

    He quickly downed his apple juice and dered,

    "I''ll go make some friends using the method you taught me."

    "Alright, good luck."

    Oscar smirked as he watched him leave and reached for his coffee cup.

    "......!"

    Suddenly, a chill ran down his spine.

    It felt like having a bucket of icy seawater poured over his head on a winter day.

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    A cold sensation seeped through his clothes, freezing his heart, and his sense of caution heightened.

    ''A strong one.¡¯

    The first true powerhouse he''s encountered since inhabiting little Oscar''s body.

    An opponent at least level 7 in skill.

    ''Where are they?''

    Oscar scanned his surroundings, searching for the source, and his gazended on a woman standing idly across the street.

    She was wearing sunsses with striking orange lenses and a long-brimmed t cap.

    ''Ash-gray hair, about 173 cm tall.''n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

    It felt like witnessing a bomb that could go off at any moment right in the middle of the city.

    The moment their eyes seemed to meet, a carriage passed between them.

    "......."

    Clop, clop.

    When the carriage passed, the woman was nowhere to be seen across the street.

    * * * *

    "Are you going too easy on your little brother''s friend? Shouldn''t we at least collect a debt for killing one of our recruits?"

    The junior following the woman asked.

    "Leave it. He wasn''t even an official member anyway. Besides, if someone can''t handle a level 3 mage, it''s better that we never took him in."

    The woman, walking while responding, gradually slowed her pace and eventually came to a full stop.

    She turned around abruptly and asked her junior,

    "Hey, do you think you could find me if I deliberately hide my presence?"

    "Find you? No way. It''d be hard even to realize you were there in the first ce."

    "Then how many level 3 mages in this city do you think could find me if I hid my presence?"

    "...Is this some new kind of harassment? I doubt there''d be any across the entire continent, not just in Baran."

    Exactly, that''s the normal reaction.

    The woman''s eyes narrowed.

    "Then why do I keep feeling like that guy and I made eye contact?"

    "Oh,e on. It must have been a coincidence."

    "¡­It didn¡¯t feel like a coincidence."

    The woman tilted her head and asked,

    "Do you know who that level 3 mage at the cafe was?"

    "Of course. It was Oscar Crucian. He''s a genius of the White Tower, famous for restoring cures for Cadena Flu and various potions. He''s been quite the talktely."

    "Oscar Crucian, a genius, huh..."

    The woman rolled those words around in her mouth and smirked.

    "Interesting guy."

    Looking forward to seeing more of him, she resumed walking.

    * * * *

    As evening came, Killian returned, decked out in sunsses, a hat, nes, rings, and shoes.

    "What¡¯s all this?"

    "These are gifts from my new friends. Thanks to you, I was able to make lots of friends."

    "...Something seems off here."

    Making new friends was fine.

    But receiving all these gifts on a first meeting?

    Oscar, sensing something amiss, asked,

    "What exactly happened?"

    "Just like you said, I went to find people withmon interests in the back alley."

    "...The back alley? Why go there to make friends?"

    "Well, I like cigarettes, so I looked for people who smoke."

    "Hmm. Go on."

    "Iplimented them, just like you told me to."

    There it was again.

    That ominous feeling, this time even stronger.

    "...Tell me exactly what you said to them."

    "Alright."

    Killian ced the items he''d received on the table and looked at Oscar with an icy gaze.

    Then, out of the blue, he said,

    "Your shoes are cool."

    "That ne looks pretty nice on you."

    Smack!

    Oscar pped his forehead.

    "And after you said that, they just gave you these things?"

    "I think they wanted to be kind and celebrate our newfound friendship."

    "...No, that¡¯s not it."

    In our society, we call this extortion, or ng for it: a shakedown.

    Oscar let out a deep sigh and pointed outside.

    "Shut up and follow me. We have to return all these things today."

    "But why return gifts from friends?"

    "They weren''t gifts from friends."

    "They weren¡¯t?"

    "Nope. You didn¡¯t make a single friend today."

    "..."

    Killian''s shoulders slumped, looking dejected.

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 Chapter 44

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    Chapter 44: Deciphering the Code (1)

    In Baran City, there is a luxurious mansion often described as thergest and most extravagant.

    The owner of the mansion, Mark Sweet, was cutting his steak when he asked:

    "Who are they again?"

    "Kilian Lockwood of the White Tower and Oscar Crucian."

    These were the very individuals who had caused his beloved only daughter to fall ill.

    Having gathered their information, Mark waved the knife in his hand irritably.

    "Track what those guys are up to and report back."

    "Understood."

    Marin Maria had already left the city, making it toote to intervene.

    Assassinating a singer who was scheduled to perform before His Majesty the Emperor at the New Year''s event would have crossed a line.

    However, Mark wasn''t too concerned.

    ¡®But then again, mere third or fourth-level mages from the weakest of the four great towers, the White Tower... Here in this city, where I am practically the king, there would be no issue killing such lowly mages.¡¯

    "What about the Hoover family?"

    Mark asked.

    "They''re busy gathering mercenaries, but none of them are skilled enough to warrant concern."

    "Hmph, if they lost, they should know when to retreat. Persistent family, aren¡¯t they?"

    "Indeed, you¡¯re absolutely right."

    The Hoover family belonged to Mayor Buzz, who had led Baran City for the past two years.

    Until a few months ago, they were the most prominent family in the city.

    But now, that was no longer the case.

    After Mayor Buzz was assassinated, the Sweet family swiftly took his ce as if they had been preparing for it.

    Mark took a sip of wine and said,

    "No matter what, we must obtain the confidential documents he left behind."

    "I understand."

    "Tsk, when did he even manage to create such a thing?"

    If those documents were ever leaked, his bid for the next mayoral seat would be a significant obstacle.

    Fortunately, the documents were heavily encrypted with powerful magical spells, so the Hoover family hadn¡¯t been able to unlock them for months.

    Thanks to this, Mark had be aware of the existence of these incriminating documents.

    "Are the preparations for two days from nowplete?"

    "Of course," the attendant confirmed.

    In two days, Baran''s night would be exceptionally noisy.

    Numerous fireworks were nned to light up the night sky.

    "No one will hear gunshots or the sound of swords shing,"

    Mark murmured, slicing his steak with more force.

    * * *

    After going through a lot of trouble to return the "gifts," it was alreadyte at night.

    "¡­I don''t understand what went wrong,"

    Kilian muttered, looking particrly downcast.

    It wasn¡¯t because he had to return the expensive gifts.

    It was more likely due to the disappointment of failing to make a new friend.

    Perhaps it was also a moment of self-doubt about his ownck of social skills.

    Patting Kilian on the shoulder a few times in constion, Oscar said,

    "It''s alright. Why would a brave warrior of the forest get so down over something like this? This sort of thing happens often in the city."

    With time, everyone finds their own way to deal with such situations.

    Kilian''s father was the same.

    When he first started asking questions, it was truly bothersome, but now, those moments were fond memories.

    "...Is that so?"

    "Yes, that''s how it is."

    Kilian¡¯s expression brightened a bit.

    "Next time, when you give apliment, try smiling a bit more.¡±

    "Smile? Like this?"

    "Yeah. The person listening should clearly feel, ''Oh, this person is praising me.''"

    "I see... I''ll remember that,"

    Kilian nodded earnestly.

    "So, are we heading back to the White Tower now?"

    "What, if I say no, will you force me toe along?"

    "No, I''ve already reported it. Given your skill, I¡¯m not worried."

    Thank goodness.

    In reality, the original objective of finding Edna hadn¡¯t even started yet.

    "I need to visit the Blood Tower¡¯s branch in Baran."

    "Is there someone you¡¯re looking for?"

    "Yes, and while waiting for the results, I n to do some shopping."

    "Looking to buy equipment or elixirs?"

    "Yeah, something like that."

    The image of Trinity, which melted away in thest battle, shed through his mind.

    It had been a reliable weapon thatpensated for the shorings of a novice mage''sck of firepower.

    ¡®With it gone, my currentbat power is definitely diminished.¡¯

    Given this, he had two immediate options.

    Either buy a new weapon to make up for the lost attack power or purchase elixirs for stable growth.

    ¡®In terms of mana, I have plenty for now.¡¯

    Having consumed the elixir that little Oscar had taken and the inner core of the Celestial Silkworm, his mana was already greater than that of most fourth-level mages.

    If he could consume one more proper elixir, he could potentially surpass the mana of even fifth-level mages.

    ¡®And once I reach the fourth level myself¡­¡¯

    He could cast spells with power on par with the Trinity weapon.

    In the long run, choosing elixirs would definitely be the right call.

    However, with enemies targeting him, he had to be cautious of any unexpected situations.

    ¡®The Blue Tower and Ara Sweet¡­¡¯

    Currently, likely two groups were aiming for him.

    And both were formidable.

    ¡®In terms of immediate danger, since I¡¯m currently in Baran, Ara Sweet is the greater threat.¡¯

    Given Marin¡¯s words, predicting what they might try was hard.

    Although he was operating under Kilian¡¯s name, a detailed investigation would quickly reveal the deception.

    Having thought this far, he warned,

    "You should be careful for a while too."

    "Why?"

    "Because I caused a ruckus under your name. There might be a crazy woman targeting you."

    With a tattoo piercing through her left eye and red eyes, she was not someone easy to forget.

    "Hmm, I actually had another request I was interested in, but I guess I should let it go."

    "What kind of request?"

    "They were looking for a mage to decrypt some encrypted documents. The reward was a whopping 500,000 bels."

    "That''s quite a generous amount."

    Maybe the clients in this big city are willing to pay big sums.

    "Forget about it. You don¡¯t want to lose your life over 500,000 bels."

    "You''re right."

    "So, are we heading straight back to the White Tower?"

    "...Unfortunately, we can''t."

    Killian shook his head with a serious expression.

    "Themission was just secondary. I have a different purpose foring to this city."

    "What is it?"

    "I''m here to catch the worst traitor in the history of the Forest n. There are rumors they''ve been active in this city recently."

    That was a much heavier topic than he expected.

    "If they''re the worst traitor in history, they must have done something really serious."

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    "...I can''t share the details with an outsider, but yes."

    For a warrior of the Forest n, who usually forgives most transgressions, to show such intense hostility was remarkable.

    Oscar thumped his chest with his fist and then extended it out, baring his teeth in a grin.

    "I hope you catch that traitor. See you at the White Towerter."

    This was a traditional greeting of the Forest n.

    Killian gave a faint smile and mirrored the gesture, thumping his own chest with his gloved hand before meeting Oscar''s fist.

    "Yeah, see you at the White Tower."

    * * *

    When Oscar entered the Blood Tower''s Baran branch, the woman at the counter nced at the clock on the wall.

    Seeing the hour hand pointing at 9 and the minute hand at 45, she let out a small sigh.

    She looked like she didn''t want to work anymore, clearly anticipating her imminent shift''s end.

    "What brings you here?"

    "I''m looking for someone."

    "Did you bring the person''s blood sample?"

    Her tone was minimally polite, draining as if she was simply going through the motions, akin to a bored imperial bureaucrat.

    "Yes."

    "Please go into the room and fill one of the prepared ss vials with the blood sample."

    Oscar walked into the room she pointed out and chose one of the many empty ss vials lined up.

    ''Blood, huh.''

    He pricked his fingertip with a magic-imbued needle, letting a few droplets of blood bead up.

    Oscar used his magic to alter the blood''sposition and structure by putting the blood into the vial.

    He already knew the blood information of Edna.

    ''Although this artificially created dragon''s blood won''t have its special effects, it should be enough to locate the person.''

    Oscar filled half the small vial with blood and exited the room.

    "I''ve ced the vial on the disy shelf. Please take care of it."

    "Wait, sir! Excuse me, sir! One moment, please!"

    As he was about to leave the building, the employee hurriedly called out to him, sighing as she opened a pamphlet on the counter.

    "Please choose the n you want from here and make the payment first."

    "What?"

    Oscar asked, surprised at this unexpected situation.

    "This service isn''t free?"

    "...Of course, it''s a paid service."

    He genuinely didn''t know.

    It used to be free up until 26 years ago, but it seems they now charge a fee.

    Looking a bit embarrassed, Oscar approached and scanned the pamphlet she opened.

    [5th Grade Tracking - Limited to this city, slow speed.]

    [4th Grade Tracking - Limited to this city, fast speed.]n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    [3rd Grade Tracking - Includes nearby regions, medium speed.]

    [2nd Grade Tracking - Includes nearby regions, fast speed.]

    [1st Grade Tracking - Covers the entire continent, very slow speed.]

    [Special Grade Tracking - Covers the entire continent, very fast speed.]

    "Ah, please go with the Special Grade Tracking.¡±

    It''s the one he used over a hundred times in his previous life.

    "It used to be free, but I guess that changed at some point?"

    "Sir, you must be mistaken. The Blood Tower''s tracking service has never been free."

    "...But I heard it was offered for free even for the Special Grade n?"

    "There were times decades ago when it was free for the Tower Master or the imperial family members, but that benefit is no longer avable."

    "......"

    So it was free because he was the Tower Master in his previous life?

    That''s something he never knew.

    Oscar''s ears turned a bit red upon realizing this.

    "Ah, I''m sorry. I heard that the former White Tower Master used this service for free quite often."

    "...Hold on, are you from the White Tower?"

    Suddenly, the employee''s eyes sharpened, and her tone became more precise.

    Instinctively, Oscar shook his head.

    "No, I have no affiliation with them."

    I''m sorry, Master.

    Sorry, everyone.

    "Phew, that''s a relief. There''s a directive to charge White Tower wizards an additional 30% fee."

    "...Why just the White Tower?"

    "The previous White Tower Master, Oscar Sage, used the Special Grade n 108 times for free, nearly bankrupting the Blood Tower. The elders still shudder when his name is mentioned. Contrary to his reputation, he was a very frugal person. If the imperial family hadn''t settled the debts after the war, the Blood Tower would have ceased to exist. The benefits I mentioned earlier were also abolished because of him."

    "......"

    So it was actually incredibly expensive.

    No wonder it felt too convenient.

    Just bringing in the blood of demons would immediately reveal their location.

    "Ahem. So how much is the Special Grade n?"

    "1.5 million Bel."

    "...Excuse me?"

    It was far more expensive than he expected.

    Swallowing hard, Oscar pulled out a money pouch and asked.

    "Is it possible to pay in installments?"

    "Sorry, we don''t offer installment ns."

    "I can pay 1.1 million Bel now. Can Ie back in a few days with the remaining 400,000 Bel? Is that okay?"

    "...Sigh."

    The employee sighed deeply, epting the pouch and checking the amount inside before speaking.

    "If you don''t pay the remaining 400,000 Bel, you won''t receive the tracking results. There are no refunds either."

    "Yes, that''s fine."

    "If you agree, please sign the contract. The results will be ready in as soon as one day or as long as three days."

    After hastily signing, Oscar sprinted out of the building and headed to the inn where Killian was staying.

    As he opened the door, Killian looked up in surprise, eyes wide.

    "Oscar? What brings you here so suddenly?"

    Panting heavily, Oscar caught his breath before speaking.

    "Killian, about that request you mentioned earlier, could you tell me more about it in detail?"

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 Chapter 45

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    Chapter 45: Deciphering the Code (2)

    Former Mayor Buzz Hoover wanted to change the outside perception of Baran.

    The prejudice of being a city of gambling and alcohol.

    Homeless people wandering the streets high on drugs, with corrupt corporations that not only ignored the problem but even encouraged it.

    He argued that everything needed to be overhauled for a better future for Baran.

    "I heard there was intense behind-the-scenes debate between the city and the corporations. In the end, they agreed to cut just one thing from the equation."

    Oscar, listening to Killian¡¯s exnation, muttered,

    "It must be drugs."

    The corporations would never give up the city''s main industries of alcohol and gambling.

    Instead, they likely decided to sacrifice the drug industry, something they couldn¡¯t control directly.

    "Correct. In fact, Buzz Hoover dered war on drug trafficking organizations."

    "And the result?"

    "I heard that within just two years, drug distribution in the city decreased by 86%."

    "Oh."

    It was a far more positive oue than expected.

    Since drug deals were conducted covertly, cracking down on them was extremely difficult.

    "But right before the opening of a treatment center for drug addicts, he suddenly died at his home."

    "¡­That sounds a bit suspicious, doesn''t it?"

    "There are people who believe that drug trafficking organizations assassinated him, while others specte that a powerful figure, high on drugs, hired the Purple Brigade. But no one knows the truth."

    After hearing enough background information, Oscar asked,

    "So, what exactly is the material we need to decrypt?"

    "I don¡¯t know either. I just heard it''s one of the most confidential pieces of information Buzz Hoover possessed."

    Most likely, it contained information about political rivals who might have wanted him dead.

    At that moment, Oscar thought of the Ara Sweet and asked,

    "What about the Sweet family? Did they have any issues with the Hoover family?"

    "Hmm? Quite the opposite, actually. Mark Sweet was a staunch supporter of Mayor Buzz and took the lead in the anti-drug campaign. Thanks to this, he¡¯s currently the frontrunner to be the next mayor."

    "¡­Really?"

    Maybe his father is a better man than expected?

    If that''s the case, perhaps spoiling his only daughter was his biggest mistake.

    "Hey, they¡¯reing."

    As they rose from thevish drawing room sofa, the door opened, and a boy, about 13 years old, entered.

    nking him were six mercenaries standing at attention.

    ¡®All level 4. They must have spent quite a bit.¡¯

    Oscar quickly assessed their level and then looked away.

    The boy bowed his head politely.

    "Nice to meet you. I am Jake Hoover, the eldest son of the family. I heard you are mages from the White Tower?"

    "Yes, I am Oscar Crucian, a level 3 mage, and this is..."

    "Killian Lockwood, level 4."

    "¡­Killian Lockwood?"

    Jake blinked twice and then suddenly eximed.

    "Oh! Are you the one who recently acted as a bodyguard for Miss Marin Maria?"

    "......"

    Killian stared nkly at him.

    Well, it couldn¡¯t be helped. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

    Exining it all would be a hassle.

    Oscar shrugged his shoulders and spoke up.

    "Yes, this is the renowned saint from the White Tower who dealt with the Udok brothers."

    "I never imagined that such a distinguished individual woulde to visit us."

    Jake, his eyes sparkling with excitement, offered them seats.

    He then called for tea to be served and started speaking.

    "Did you twoe here knowing why I¡¯ve hired mages?"

    His gaze remained fixed on Killian, assuming he was the one in charge.

    On the other hand, Killian nced at Oscar every time he was asked a question.

    ¡®He thinks I¡¯m the one making the decisions here?¡¯

    Oscar had no choice but to respond.

    "I heard you¡¯re looking for someone to decipher an encrypted document."

    "Yes, that¡¯s correct."

    Realizing that Oscar was the one to converse with, Jake turned his head.

    "My father once mentioned that the document contains some of the most confidential and shocking information in Baran City."

    "You suspect that the document is rted to your father¡¯s death, don¡¯t you?"

    "¡­Yes. To be honest, I was initially skeptical, but I¡¯ve be certain recently."

    He became certain?

    Intrigued, Oscar asked.

    "What made you sure?"

    "After my father passed away, we immediately invited renowned cryptography mages from outside."

    "Wise move."

    Even at a young age, he seemed sharp.

    Indeed, it¡¯s better to hire professionals from the start for such encrypted documents rather than letting amateurs ruin them.

    "But on their way to Baran, strange idents began to happen one by one. There were horse riding idents, car engine explosions, copsed bridges while crossing rivers, and even attacks by bandits, which are rare these days... In the end, none of them made it to Baran City."

    "That does sound suspicious."

    "Yes, it means there¡¯s someone who doesn¡¯t want this document to be revealed to the world."

    "¡­If the document is closely rted to your father¡¯s death, that makes sense."

    "Exactly!"

    The matter seemed deeper than anticipated.

    "May I take a look at this encrypted document?"

    "Of course. But there¡¯s one procedure we need toplete first."

    After finishing his sentence, Jake ced two pieces of parchment on the table.

    "These are the Covenant Scrolls sold by the El-Terra Church. You both know how to use them, right?"

    "We do."

    The scroll is a severe contract that causes death if the recorded terms are not followed.

    The content on the parchment was simple:

    1. The employee cannot damage the encrypted document in any way.

    2. The employee cannot disclose any information rted to this task to anyone.

    3. However, with Jake Hoover¡¯s permission, the above rules may be bypassed in specific cases.

    4. Once the task ispleted, all the above terms be null and void.

    It was a kind of security measure to protect the importance of the document.

    "¡­Before we begin, I have one question."

    Taking his eyes off the parchment, Oscar nced at the mercenaries standing behind Jake.

    "Have they all gone through the same procedure?"

    "Of course. Ensuring security was my top priority for this matter."

    Jake smiled with pride.

    When he looked back, the hired mercenaries lifted their chins confidently.

    "So you don¡¯t need to worry about them."

    "I¡¯ll decide that for myself. Please bring me the Covenant Scrolls they signed."

    At Oscar¡¯s firm tone, Jake looked visibly surprised.

    At the same time, one of the mercenaries in the back twitched his eyebrows.

    ¡°A mere Level 3 Mage dares to speak in front of¡­¡±

    "Killian."

    The moment Oscar softly called his name,

    Killian moved so quickly that no one else in the room could even register his motion.

    Crunch!

    ¡°...Argh!¡±

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    In an instant, a mercenary''s head was mmed to the ground, and he screamed in pain.

    ''Fast!''

    ''I couldn¡¯t even see him move¡­!''

    ¡®Is he really just a Level 4 Mage?''

    ¡®Given his agility, he must be abat mage specializing in physical techniques.¡¯

    Just as the other mercenaries drew their weapons, aiming at Oscar and Killian, Oscar spoke calmly, looking as unperturbed as if he hadn¡¯t caused anymotion.

    ¡°This is to establish mutual trust. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a difficult request.¡±

    ¡°...Understood. Please wait a moment.¡±

    Nodding, Jake left briefly and returned with the oath scrolls.

    As Oscar carefully examined each one, he suddenly stopped.

    ¡°Ah, found it.¡±

    Having discovered something, he looked up and called out two names like a teacher taking attendance.

    ¡°Don Frank? And Cort Berry?¡±

    The gazes of Jake and the mercenaries split into two directions.

    One looked at the mercenary subdued by Killian, while the other focused on the man holding his weapon.

    ¡°What the hell is this? Why are you calling my name all of a sudde¡ª¡±

    The moment Cort Berry raised his voice in protest, apressed st of air exploded in front of him.

    Boom!

    He was blown backward, mming into a wall, and passed out on the spot.

    ¡°...Can you exin what¡¯s going on?¡±

    Jake asked, pretending to be angry.

    Oscar replied with a question.

    ¡°Who obtained these oath scrolls?¡±

    ¡°I had one of the servants fetch them.¡±

    ¡°Have that servant detained along with these two.¡±

    Oscar waved the scrolls of the two subdued individuals.

    ¡°They¡¯re fakes. Ordinary paper, without the divine power of the El Tera Church.¡±

    ¡°...!¡±

    Jake¡¯s eyes widened in shock as he stammered.

    ¡°Th-that means¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes. Those two are not bound by this agreement. They¡¯ve likely already leaked internal information.¡±

    Since they had only signed on fake oath scrolls, they weren¡¯t actually bound by the pact.

    Jake, shocked, slumped onto the sofa.

    ¡°Is this really possible? Spies¡­?¡±

    ¡°By now, the other side probably knows everything about what¡¯s happening here.¡±

    Oscar approached Don Frank, who was sweating bullets after being subdued by Killian.

    He crouched down, giving him a cold look.

    ¡°Who are you working for?¡±

    ¡°D-damn it! I was hired remotely, I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    It wasn¡¯t a lie.

    In other words, the employer had prepared thoroughly to cut off any loose ends.

    ¡°What kind of information did you leak?¡±

    ¡°The number and level of the hired mercenaries¡­¡±

    The implication was clear: the opponent knew exactly what to do next.

    Oscar turned his head toward Jake.

    ¡°They¡¯ll being soon to seize the documents. With forces stronger than the mercenaries here.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Seeing Jake¡¯s face turn ashen, Oscar threw him a lifeline.

    ¡°Hmm. Deciphering the code will cost you 500,000 bels, and hiring me and Killian as mercenaries will be another 500,000. A total of one million bels. What do you say?¡±

    It was probably more expensive than hiring the six mercenaries currently in the room.

    But with no time to waste, Jake nodded frantically.

    ¡°D-deal. We have a contract.¡±

    ¡°You won¡¯t regret it.¡±

    Oscar smiled lightly and signed the oath scroll.

    * * * *

    With the enemy possibly attacking at any moment, time was of the essence.

    Oscar immediately received the encrypted item.

    ¡°This is the bag containing the documents, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I found it in my father¡¯s private vault.¡±

    While there was no issue holding the bag by its handle, a powerful magical repulsion urred every time someone touched the button to open the lid.

    ¡°Hmm. There¡¯s quite a lot of protection on this.¡±

    The bag was protected by three spells: ¡®Triple Encryption,¡¯ ¡®Repulsion,¡¯ and ¡®Explosion.¡¯

    Any physical attempt to open it would result in the bag and its contents being destroyed.

    Jake swallowed hard, his mouth dry.

    ¡°...Is it possible?¡±

    ¡°Yes, it is.¡±

    Oscar¡¯s confidence was simple.

    These were the kinds of spells he had dealt with countless times in his previous life.

    ¡®During the war, every piece of information had to be encrypted.¡¯

    If the documents ended up in the hands of demons, the course of the war could change, holding critical information about the empire and humanity.

    Such documents were always subjected to multipleyers of encryption before being sent out.

    ¡®Compared to those, this is¡­ well, triple encryption is child¡¯s y.¡¯

    Oscar summoned his magic without hesitation and infiltrated the lid of the bag.

    ¡°...¡±

    A multitude of magical codes appeared before his eyes.

    Observing them briefly and deducing the patterns, Oscar extracted the correct code and entered it.

    It only took him 12 seconds.

    As the lid clicked open, Jake blinked in surprise.

    ¡°Is it¡­ really done?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    Was there a problem?

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 Chapter 46

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    Chapter 46: Deciphering the Code (3)

    The encrypted spell was undone almost too easily.

    Oscar, noticing the fleeting emotion in his eyes, spoke up.

    "Don''t think it was a waste of money. It may seem simple, but there are very few mages in the region who could do this."

    "He''s right. For the record, even I can''t do it."

    With Killian chiming in for support, Jake shook his head fervently.

    "N-no, I didn''t think that at all. So, the contents inside are...?"

    "They''re safe. Please, check for yourself."

    "O-okay!"

    He opened the briefcase, pulling out a diary and a few documents.

    "Most of these are ledgers. They detail the corruption of politicians and corporations."

    "Do you think releasing this information would cause a big stir?"

    "¡­No. I''m actually surprised because it won''t cause much of a fuss at all."

    Jake exined, shaking his head.

    "In a city like Baran, maybe, but this level of corruption is nothing. As you know, it''s a city full of money-obsessed politicians and corporations. I can''t understand why they''d kill my father just to keep this froming out."

    "......."

    Oscar wondered if even ten-year-old children in Baran had to mature this quickly.

    For a moment, he saw a shadow of Lloyd in Jake.

    Oscar, who had been quietly observing him, asked,

    "And what about the diary? Anything in there?"

    "Oh! I''ll check it now."

    Taking Oscar''s suggestion, Jake opened the most recent entry.

    * * *

    June 10th

    It''s been almost two years since I became the mayor of Baran City.

    I read a newspaper recently that called Baran a city of alcohol and gambling.

    Am I ashamed of that? Not at all! Compared to when it was a city of alcohol, gambling, and drugs, it''s a huge improvement.

    This is the achievement of me, the citizens, and my partner, Mark.

    With two more years left in my term, Baran will be an even better city by then.

    July 2nd

    Something feels off.

    We took down a sizable drug trafficking organization, yet the amount of drugs on the streets doesn''t seem to decrease below a certain level.

    This isn''t something that could be maintained just by individual dealers pushing hard.

    I need to investigate this quietly on my own.

    August 22nd

    Over the past month and a half, we''ve arrested and interrogated nearly a hundred individual dealers.

    The results were shocking.

    None of them knew who they were selling the drugs for.

    How is that possible?

    This opponent seems far more meticulous and organized than any we''ve faced before.

    I have no idea how high up this goes, but it must be a major corporation or a powerful politician.

    I should talk this over with Mark.

    August 24th

    I spoke with Markst night.

    ...Something felt off.

    He seemed aware of the things I had investigated independently.

    If I''m wrong, I owe him an apology, but I need to keep a close watch on him.

    September 1st

    Mark Sweet, that filthy rat.

    He was the mastermind.

    He''s even an executive in the Empire''srgest drug cartel, "Happy End."

    I feel an indescribable sense of betrayal.

    I want to confront him right now and ask how he could do this.

    ...But I have to hold back.

    The future of 600,000 Baran citizens depends on my choices and actions.

    September 18th

    Tomorrow, the center for treating drug addicts opens.

    Tonight, I have a private meeting with an official from the Imperial Pce.

    If I get through tonight safely, I can wipe out ''Happy End''pletely.

    Everything is for a better Baran City.

    * * *

    The diary ended there. It wasn''t hard to guess why.

    "¡­September 18th is the anniversary of my father''s death."

    Jake''s voice was choked with emotion as he struggled to get the words out.

    He bit his lip, refusing to ept the reality.

    "I can''t believe it. Mark told me he''d definitely catch the culprit. He even patted my shoulder in front of my father''s grave, saying he''d continue my father''s legacy¡­"

    "..."

    The man who deceived the father and son, Mark Sweet, was an executive in a drug cartel.

    He was even the leading candidate to be the next mayor.

    Oscar patted Jake''s head, who was shedding tears like raindrops.

    "Don''t worry. He will face justice for what he''s done."

    "¡­It won''t happen. Not in this city, especially."

    Oscar looked into Jake''s eyes, devoid of even a sliver of hope¡ªeyes that were far too mature for a child.

    "Don''t give up. I''ll make sure of it."

    "...Really?"

    "Of course. We wouldn''t be mages from the Four Great Towers for nothing, would we?"

    Oscar puffed out his chest with an exaggerated expression.

    This was the onlyfort he could offer the child at this moment.

    Killian, who had approached from the side, frowned and muttered,

    "The situation is worse than we thought. If this continues, Baran City will fall into the hands of a drug cartel."

    "No, this isn''t just Baran City''s problem anymore."

    The city of Baran has a poption of about 600,000.

    However, it sees over 30 million tourists annually, and the number is increasing every year.

    "What happens if Mark Sweet bes mayor and decides to turn tourists into addicts?"

    "...They''ll return home addicted, and the drugs will spread there too."

    The real issue was that this could happen all over the country simultaneously.

    If that were to happen, it could spiral out of control, and the entire empire might copse, defeated by drugs. Killian looked at the diary.

    "Then this diary is the only weapon we have to stop his election."

    "We must protect this at all costs. Jake, do you have amunicator at home?"

    "...We do, but it can''t connect outside. Since yesterday, the entire city has been undergoing a security check due to a supposed surge in call volume. Now I realize that was all part of the n too."

    No externalmunication avable?

    Oscar furrowed his brow briefly, thinking of another solution.

    "What about a Calling Crystal? Do you have one?"

    "A Calling Crystal?"

    Jake gave him a puzzled look.

    "Are you talking about that antique device from decades ago?"

    "Yes."

    A Calling Crystal was used before magicalmunication devices were invented.

    Of course, it couldn''t transmit voice in real-time like modern devices.

    All it could do was indicate that someone was trying to contact you, using a number disy.

    Given that it uses personal mana to send the number, it should still work now.

    "My father collected antiques as a hobby, so we have one... But why do you need it?"

    "Please fetch it right away."

    "Okay, just a moment."

    Jake hurried off, returning about ten minutester with a dusty Calling Crystal.

    As Oscar touched it, the crystal began to glow blue.

    [Trantor - ra]

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    "Thankfully, it still works."

    "Yes, my father only collected well-preserved items..."

    "This will do."

    After a moment of recollection, Oscar swiftly and skillfully input a series of numbers.

    Watching him in silence, Kilian finally spoke up.

    "When did you learn how to operate a call crystal? I''ve only ever read about these in books. They''re practically ancient artifacts now."

    "... I made sure to learn how, just in case of situations like this."

    Artifacts?

    Not too long ago, this was considered cutting-edge technology.

    Kilian muttered as the crystal briefly flickered a few more times before dimming again.

    "I hope the Elders arrive on time."

    "Let''s hope so."

    Kilian seemed to believe he had summoned the Elders of the White Tower.

    Oscar didn¡¯t bother correcting his misunderstanding.

    * * * *

    "Steel Rice Bowl."

    This was the term people used to refer to imperial civil servants.

    It was an unbeatable job¡ªunless youmitted a massive crime or the Empire itself copsed, you would never get fired.

    But among them, there was the "Mithril Rice Bowl," or what some called the "Freeloaders'' Department."

    This was none other than the ''Call Crystal Management Department.''

    "Huuuuaaah."

    Half-slumped in his chair with his feet up on the desk, the department head yawned repeatedly.

    From time to time, he would scratch his back with a long stick.

    After observing for a few days, it became clear that scratching his back was all he did from the moment he clocked in until he clocked out.

    "Um... Chief."

    The new recruit, the rookie, and the only member of the department, cautiously spoke up.

    "Hmm? What is it?"

    "Could you tell me exactly what we do here?"

    "... What we do?"

    Spinning his chair and using the stick to massage his shoulder, the department head replied.

    "Haven''t I told you what our job is yet?"

    "No... not yet."

    It had already been three days since he starteding to work here, and he hadn¡¯t learned a single thing.

    "Maybe it''s because you¡¯re new, but you seem really eager. How long did it take you to pass the civil service exam?"

    "I passed on my first try at 16, as soon as I was eligible!"

    "... What? Why would they send such an elite here?"

    Looking baffled, the department head straightened up and asked.

    "Do you know anything about this department?"

    "Yes! I heard that in the past, hundreds of people worked here! It¡¯s an honor to serve in such a historically significant department!"

    "You little suck-up."

    With a chuckle, the department head pointed to the call crystal on the desk.

    "Okay, so numbers will appear inside when this crystal starts to glow. You just need to write them down and interpret them."

    "That sounds quite tedious."

    "It does now, but before the invention of magicalmunication devices, this was how the world stayed connected. You couldn''t just run around looking for people, could you? You¡¯d send your personal code through this, and the recipient would know toe find you."

    "So, if numbers show up, do we have to go find the person?"

    "Of course not. The second function of the call crystal is that you canbine numbers to form sentences. It was used to ry urgent messages across long distances quickly."

    "Oh, so our job is to interpret and ry messages."

    "Exactly. When someone sends a code, we decipher it, form a sentence, and report it up the chain. This ce is directly connected to the Imperial Pce, so the codes are top-secret. Unless you''re the head of the Magic Tower, a Duke, or the leader of a prestigious sword family, you wouldn¡¯t even know these codes exist."

    The department head shrugged as he finished exining.

    "To be honest, we haven¡¯t received any messages in thest 18 years. That¡¯s why our staff was reduced over time. Frankly, I didn¡¯t expect a new recruit to join."

    "I see..."

    "Here, take this."

    He handed the rookie an incredibly thick book.

    "Impressive, isn¡¯t it? I memorized this whole thing back in the day, but now it¡¯s all fuzzy."

    "Wow... That¡¯s amazing."

    The rookie¡¯s eyes sparkled as he took the book, as if he intended to memorize it all too.

    The department head snickered at his enthusiasm.

    "Just read it until it¡¯s time to clock out, then wake me up."

    "Yes, sir! Have a good rest!"

    Soon after, as the department head began snoring, the rookie eagerly dove into the book.

    "To think that such extensive messages could be made from simple numberbinations..."

    There were even trap phrases designed to prevent enemy factions from deciphering the codes.

    Sometimes, you needed to input a 17-digit sequence just to convey a simple two-word message.

    "This really makes you appreciate modern technology; now, you just make a call and that¡¯s it."

    Feeling thankful for technological progress, the rookie turned the pages of the book.

    Suddenly, the call crystal shed with a bright light.

    "Whoa...?"

    The rookie hesitated, unsure whether to wake the department head or start writing down the numbers.

    As the numbers began changing rapidly, he decided to jot them down quickly.

    "1, 7, 13, 2.5, 6..."

    After recording a total of 236 numbers, he immediately woke the department head.

    "Yaaaawn, is it already time to clock out?"

    "No, sir! The call crystal is glowing!"

    "... What?"

    In an instant, the department head¡¯s drowsiness vanished, reced by a sharp expression.

    "You¡¯re not joking, are you? Did you write down the numbers?"

    "Y-Yes, sir."

    Handing over the paper, the rookie watched as the department head hurriedly read the numbers.

    "17132 means Baran, and 256324512 stands for Happy End. In this case, theck of spacing indicates it¡¯s read as ''HappyEnd,'' city domination, drugs, scenario?"

    His muscle memory seemed to kick in as he instinctively deciphered the numbers into aplete sentence.

    "City of Baran, under threat of domination by the Empire¡¯srgest drug cartel, Happy End. They n to distribute drugs nationwide...?"

    After finishing the interpretation, the department head leapt to his feet and shouted.

    "Dammit! Connect to the Security Bureau right now!"

    For the first time in 18 years, the Call Crystal Management Department was doing its job.

    [Trantor - ra]N?v(el)B\\jnn

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 Chapter 47

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    Chapter 47: Variable (1)

    December, the month when the train called a year reaches its final station.

    The night had brought a heavy snowfall, making the air chilly.

    Meanwhile, a grand party was being held in the city.

    The festive atmosphere was palpable even at the tranquil Hoover family estate, several kilometers away from the city center.

    Boom! Pop! Boom, boom, boom!

    The sound of fireworks exploding over the forest of buildings in downtown Baran City reached even this far.

    "How are the security cameras?"

    "I''ve disabled them."

    Omar, the head of Omar''s Mercenary Office, nced at his wristwatch upon hearing his subordinate''s report.

    10:00:23 PM

    The operation had begun perfectly.

    "You have five hours. Steal the encrypted data within that time frame."

    "Yes, sir!"

    In Baran City, where there was no concept of a feudal lord, even nobles were strictly forbidden from keeping private troops.

    In other words, they had to hire mercenaries whenever an armed conflict arose, just like now.

    Mark Sweet had recruited as many as 152 mercenaries for this day.

    Most of them were level 1 or 2, but there were thirty level 3 mercenaries and as many as ten level 4 mercenaries.

    ¡®The problem was¡­¡¯

    They weren''t the only mercenaries hired for the job.

    Omar frowned as he turned his head.

    "Samuel, where are you going?"

    "The cameras are off, right? What are you hesitating for?"

    "I have a nid out, so I''d appreciate it if you followed it."

    "Hah, acting like you''re the leader. We''ll be moving independently, just so you know."

    "Looks like it''s been decided, so Jackson''s Mercenary Office will also move on its own."

    "..."

    The disorganization was apparent.

    The problem stemmed from hiring multiple mercenary offices simultaneously.

    Nearby, subordinates red at the opposing mercenaries.

    "We were the ones who disabled the cameras. How dare they move ahead of us?"

    "Boss, should we establish discipline first?"

    "...No, leave it be."

    Omar let out a deep sigh and shook his head.

    He had expected this from the beginning.

    "If the forces were evenly matched, I would''ve stepped in, but the gap is too wide."

    The opposing side''s force only consisted of four level 4 mercenaries and two mages from the White Tower.

    They couldn''t make proper hires because of the pressure Mark Sweet put on all the mercenary offices.

    On top of that, the employer''s daughter had put a bounty of 300,000 bels per mage, making this kind ofpetition inevitable.

    "Boss, let''s head out before it''s toote. At this rate, we''ll only be helping the others."

    "...Yeah, let''s go."

    The mercenaries who infiltrated the Hoover estate were greeted by a snow-covered forest.

    "Move quietly to the mansion without making any noise."

    Other mercenaries seemed to be thinking the same.

    Over a hundred mercenaries sprinted silently through the dark forest.

    The only sounds were the wind blowing and the dry winter leaves crunching.

    Suddenly, there was a click.

    "...Huh?"

    A mercenary named Bill, who thought he had stepped on a bug, instinctively turned around.

    Sizzle!

    His ankle area started to burn.

    ''Huh? Huh?''

    As the world tilted diagonally, his body fell forward.

    Thud!

    Instead of wondering why he fell, embarrassment hit him first.

    Bill, blushing, hurriedly tried to stand up.

    "Aaaahhh!¡±

    An indescribable pain shot up from his ankle.

    Only then did Bill realize his ankle had been severed, and he let out a scream.

    That was just the beginning.

    "My ankle! My ankle is gone!"

    "It hurts, it hurts so much...!"

    "Dammit! There are traps here!"

    The mercenaries whose ankles were severed writhed in pain on the ground.

    Seeing this up close made the others break into a cold sweat.

    If they had taken just a few more steps, they would''ve been the ones lying there.

    ''This isn''t good.''

    ''Morale is dropping even before the fight begins.''

    The quick-witted mercenary leaders promptly spoke up.

    "Everyone, watch your step as you move! If you do, there won''t be any issues!"

    "If you step on a mine, wait for arade to disarm it. It''s just a minor magical trap."

    "There''s no need to rush. We have plenty of time. As long as we reach the mansion slowly..."

    Bang!

    At that moment, Jackson, the loudest mercenary leader, suddenly copsed.

    "Boss, boss?"

    A subordinate shined a shlight on him, revealing a hole in his forehead.

    "He''s... dead."

    Before the shock of the level 4 mercenary Jackson''s death could set in, there was another click!

    Magic mines hidden on the ground began to release wind des in every direction.

    "Damn it! Who''s triggering these traps?!"

    "Don''t lift your foot if you step on one! Aaargh!"N?v(el)B\\jnn

    "No, no! These aren''t going off because we stepped on them!"

    The mines, which hadn''t been stepped on, were activating on their own.

    This meant the enemy could remotely detonate the traps.

    Realizing this, the mercenary leaders shouted in unison.

    "Run! Get out of this damn forest fast!"

    "Move while staying behind cover! Otherwise, they¡¯ll pinpoint our location... Argh!"

    The continuous explosions of wind mines, coupled with sniper shots from a distance, threw the mercenaries into panic.

    They sprinted toward the faint lights of the mansion without looking back.

    "...Running recklessly like that in the forest."

    And looming over the heads of the fleeing mercenaries was none other than:

    "You''re practically begging to be killed."

    The forest warrior, Killian Lockwood.

    * * *

    "Huff, huff."

    Level 3 mercenary, Woody, crouched behind arge tree, covering his mouth with both hands.

    He was bitterly regretting epting this job lured by the promise of big money.

    ''Damn it, where''s the overwhelming advantage they talked about?''

    He had believed the boasting mercenaries before the operation started.

    But when the battle began, it was the other way around.

    They were getting killed one by one without even putting up a proper fight.

    Because there was a ghost in this forest.

    "Aaaahhhh!"

    Thud!

    The scream from nearby made Woody hold his breath.

    The eerie, dying wails of those who perished chilled him to the bone.

    He nervously held his breath, rolling his eyes in fear.

    "Phew!"

    Even after exhaling his held breath, he was still cautious, gripping his gun tightly and looking around.

    ''Did it leave? It must have, right?''

    He had held his breath for at least a minute.

    Surely, it wouldn''t still be lingering here.

    Gaining a bit of courage, Woody slowly stood up.

    He nned to escape through the wall he had sneaked in from.

    Drip, drip.

    Just then, a few drops of unknown liquid fell onto his face.

    ''Water? Is the snow melting?''

    But in this cold weather, snow wouldn''t be melting.

    Woody instinctively looked up and screamed.

    "Ahhh!"

    A ghost was crouching on the bare tree branch above him.

    With red eyes glowing like a predator, the ghost casually nced at the blood dripping from his glove and muttered.

    "Oh, don''t worry. It''s not my blood."

    "Who the hell would worry about that¡­ Die, you ghost bastard!"

    Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat!

    Woody''s machine gun spat fire, and the ghost didn¡¯t even attempt to dodge.

    "There''s one thing I particrly dislike."

    Ting-ting! Ting-ting-ting!

    Or rather, there was no reason for him to dodge.

    The bullets didn¡¯t even prate the ghost''s magically reinforced clothing.

    "And that¡¯s the smell of gunpowder in the sacred forest."

    Those were thest words Woody ever heard in his life.

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    * * * *

    Oscar, whose eyes were burning, closed them for a moment to take a break.

    It was a side effect of using the ¡ºThermal Vision¡» spell to spot enemies hiding in the forest.

    ¡®Man, this thing eats up mana like crazy.¡¯

    The improvised long-range sniper magic,¡ºWind Sniping¡», he had created.

    Its effect was remarkable, but it consumed 5% of his mana each time he used it, which was the only drawback.

    ¡®Well, still¡­¡¯

    For a firstbat deployment, its performance was satisfactory.

    The two techniques, ¡ºWind Mine¡» and ¡ºWind Sniping¡», had immobilized as many as 67 enemies.

    ¡®Among them, three were Level 4 mercenaries.¡¯

    Oscar, perched on a seeminglyfortable rock, smirked.

    "Scan."

    Instantly, a bird''s-eye view of the forest appeared before him, with the locations of the enemies gradually marked.

    ¡®This one''s Killian, and those are the allied mercenaries.¡¯

    They swept through enemies they encountered, who were exhausted and driven to fear.

    Eventually, the enemies, reduced to around fifty, began to flee in the opposite direction.

    ¡®It''s over.¡¯

    With only three Level 4 mercenaries remaining, the enemy forces were reduced to a third of their original size.

    The thought of regrouping andunching another attack probably didn¡¯t even cross their minds.

    Just as Oscar was thinking the battle ended more easily than expected and was about to stand up¡­

    "¡­Huh?"

    The mercenaries who had managed to escape to the front gate suddenly started running toward the mansion, at twice their previous speed.

    ¡®What the hell?¡¯

    Were they not mentally broken even after going through all that in the forest?

    Were they really that desperate for money?

    ¡®No, that''s not the problem here.¡¯

    Given their exhaustion, it made no sense for them to run at that speed.

    "......."

    Oscar furrowed his brow.

    He shifted his gaze from the forest overview to the entrance of the estate far ahead.

    Something unforeseen was lurking there.

    * * *

    Killian Lockwood took a deep breath with his eyes closed.

    Just that alone gave him a wealth of information about the forest.

    ¡®The smell of gunpowder has stopped. They¡¯ve all fled.¡¯

    A short yet long night.

    He had been chasing and fighting the enemies for over two hours.

    "Killian!"

    "Ah, so you two were here."

    Two allied mercenaries who had been tightening the encirclement approached him.

    The other two mercenaries were at the mansion, closely guarding Jake, so they weren''t present.

    "We did it!"

    "Just four of us drove away more than 150 enemies. This will go down as a historic victory!"

    Killian could understand their excitement.

    Even he had expected a much tougher fight.

    The battle would have been more challenging if Oscar hadn''t initially overwhelmed the enemy with traps.

    "Hmm."

    Killian smirked, thinking the current atmosphere was quite good.

    "That weapon of yours looks pretty decent."

    ¡°Do- do you want it?"

    "¡­Hmm. No, it''s fine."

    Although he had smiled, the mercenary pondered what might have gone wrong.

    Sniff, sniff.

    Killian¡¯s head turned as he smelled the acrid scent of gunpowder.

    "¡­Even after all that, they still haven¡¯t learned their lesson?"

    "What? You really want this weapon?"

    "Forget the weapon. Prepare for battle. The enemies areing back."

    Killian looked into the dark forest as the enemies approached.

    "Grrr, grr¡­"

    "Graaahhh!"

    Groaning and screaming, they ran towards him.

    Their eyes were rolled back, showing only the whites, and drool was spilling from their mouths.

    ¡®Did they take some kind of drug?¡¯

    Killian grimaced and delivered a low kick to an iing mercenary.

    The kick shattered one of the mercenary¡¯s knees and had enough force left to break the other.

    ¡°Kraaaah!¡±

    ".......?"

    Even after copsing, the mercenary wed at the ground, crawling towards him, eventually grabbing onto Killian''s ankle.

    Then he tried to bite Killian''s ankle.

    "Get it off."

    Crack!

    Killian kicked the mercenary''s jaw, knocking him out, but the mercenary slowly continued crawling.

    "......."

    Killian''s face hardened.

    This was a technique that turned the target into a mindless berserker, incapable of anything but fighting.

    The only way to stop them was to give them eternal rest.

    ¡®It''s certain. It¡¯s the same technique the traitor used on the chieftain.¡¯

    Unpleasant memories resurfaced.

    The sight of the forest warriors weeping blood as a group.

    The night when he had to deliver a dishonorable death to the once-bravest warrior, the chieftain of the forest tribe.

    ¡°Kraaaah! H-help me!¡±

    "There''s something wrong with these guys¡­ Ahhh!"

    Allied mercenaries called for reinforcements.

    As Killian was about to step forward to assist them¡­

    A chilling, sinister energy emerged from behind him, halting his steps.

    And contrasting with that, a cheerful voice held him in ce.

    "It¡¯s been a while. About four years, huh?"

    It was a somewhat unfamiliar voice now, but it was etched clearly in his memory like a brand.

    Killian slowly turned around, ring at the person with rage-filled eyes.

    "¡­Kaya Lockwood."

    There stood the worst traitor in the history of the forest, and Killian¡¯s own sister, whom he hadn''t seen in four years.

    [Trantor - ra]

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 Chapter 48

    [Trantor - ra]

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    Chapter 48: Variable (2)

    Two pairs of crimson eyes shed in midair.

    An intense difference in temperature.

    One side showed no emotion, while the other could not hide its fierce hostility.

    "......."

    ring at her in silence, Killian exhaled as he tried to calm his explosive anger.

    There was something he wanted to hear directly from her when they met.

    "Is it true?"

    "What is?"

    "......Did you really steal the King''s Tattoo from the temple in the forest and cause the tribal chief who tried to stop you to lose his sanity? Was it truly your doing?"

    When he first heard the news, he thought it was a bad joke.

    The older sister he knew, though rough in personality, was someone who deserved respect.

    She had be the head warrior at just eighteen years old, the strongest fighter in the forest, his role model, and someone who knew the duty of a protector.

    "Yes, it''s true."

    "......."

    A cold winter breeze howled through the forest.

    He bit his lips so hard he could taste blood in his mouth.

    He had hoped that she would deny it.

    Maybe he wanted her to say it was all a misunderstanding, that it wasn''t her at all.

    ¡®If she does, then maybe, given time... we could clear this up and go back to how things were before.¡¯

    But the effortless and hollow affirmation, without even a hint of hesitation or guilt, left him feeling drained.

    "You don''t even seem to have any excuse to make."

    "I have no reason to."

    "......Do you know this? The tribal chief you drove insane was someone who loved you the most. And he met a dishonorable death, not on the battlefield but elsewhere, away from glory."

    "Oh, how unfortunate."

    Her attitude showed no signs of remorse.

    Realizing any further conversation would be pointless, Killian clenched his fist, and her eyes widened slightly.

    "Are you going to attack me? You can''t possibly be unaware of the gap between us."

    "It doesn''t matter. A warrior of the forest never retreats, no matter how strong the opponent."

    "You foolish brother, sometimes you need to retreat and run away. That''s the smart way to live in this world."

    "My father and the tribal chief taught me not the life of a wise man but the life of a warrior."

    "......Those forest idiots."

    She shook her head in disapproval and gave him a piece of advice.

    "Are you sure about this? If you don¡¯t go help now, your friend will die too."

    "Oscar is strong. He won¡¯t fall to those puppets."

    With unwavering conviction in his eyes, Killian charged directly at her.

    * * *

    "Haah, haah...!"

    "Pant, pant."

    The faces of the two mercenaries running through the forest were filled with terror.

    Their pursuers kepting, even with broken limbs, even with their necks twisted.

    "Ahh!"

    One of the mercenaries tripped on a rock and tumbled to the ground.

    He reached out a hand toward the mercenary running ahead.

    "Help me! Please!"

    "......."

    The mercenary hesitated, looking back.

    They weren¡¯t particrly close; they had only met through this mission.

    No one would me him for not helping, and using him as a decoy would make his own escape safer.

    "......Damn it, damn it!"

    But despite himself, he turned back.

    Perhaps it was because of the photo of the man''s young son that he had proudly shown off earlier.

    "Grab on!"

    He quickly grabbed the fallen mercenary¡¯s hand and pulled him up.

    At the same time, an enemy lunged out from behind a tree, swinging a sword.

    ¡®Damn it... this is why people shouldn¡¯t do things they¡¯re not used to.¡¯

    As the mercenary clenched his teeth in despair, a sudden gust of wind blew by, followed by a loud crash as the enemy was mmed into a tree.

    Whooosh.

    "Are you okay?"

    "Oscar!"

    Relief washed over the mercenary¡¯s face upon seeing a familiar ally.

    Although only a level 3, Oscar had performed outstandingly tonight, far more than anyone else.

    Oscar, keeping his gaze fixed on the drooling enemies approaching, spoke calmly.

    "If you know anything about these guys, tell me everything."

    "Uh..."

    The two mercenaries nced at each other before they hurriedly spilled all the information they had.

    "They seem unable to feel pain. They kepting at us even with swords stuck in their bodies."

    "Breaking their limbs doesn''t work. You have to aim for the head. They die if you stab their heart, but it takes a while."

    "Do you know why they ended up like this?"

    "We¡¯re not sure, but Killian called the woman leading them Kaya Lockwood."

    "......Kaya Lockwood?"

    Oscar flinched at the familiar name.

    How could he not recognize it?

    That was the name Radan often bragged about, endlessly showing off pictures of his daughter.

    ¡®If the enemy is truly Radan''s daughter...''

    His mind raced, quickly piecing together a conclusion.

    ¡®Wait, could this be the effect of the King¡¯s Tattoo?¡¯

    The King''s Tattoo is a mark passed down to only one warrior of the forest, known as the strongest of their generation.

    It¡¯s a tattoo imbued with the power to lead all tattoo practitioners, and whoever bears it bes the future tribal chief.

    Moreover, if the wearer dies, the tattoo vanishes from the skin and returns to the Forest Temple as an artifact.

    ¡®If that¡¯s true, then the technique used to turn them into this state must be...¡¯

    One of the abilities of the King¡¯s Tattoo, called ¡ºIncreasing Morale¡».

    Of course, it was never meant to turn people into mindless berserkers like this.

    Normally, it was used to give allies a boost of confidence and morale.

    ¡®But she¡¯s pushed that effect to its extreme.¡¯

    Even he had only theorized about this possibility, having never seen it in action before.

    At that moment, the allied mercenaries, weapons in hand, gathered by his side.

    "We took down a few while running, but there are still many left."

    "At least forty."

    "Grrr..."

    "Raaagh."

    Mercenaries, their eyes rolled back, lost their sanity, and slowly approached with beast-like growls.

    At that moment, Oscar''s eyes filled with magic glowed.

    ''Radan said the basic principle of ¡ºIncreasing Morale¡» is the continuous infusion of magic.''

    As expected, he could see small threads of magic connected above the heads of the mercenaries.

    Of course, just because he could see them didn''t mean he could cut them.

    Those threads were far too sturdy for a mere Level 3 mage to sever.

    ''But that doesn''t mean there''s no way to deal with this either.''

    Oscar closed his eyes and spoke.

    "Give me 30 seconds. That''s all I need."

    "W-Wait. Did you say 30 seconds?"n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

    "Do you think that''s as easy as it sounds against that many?"

    [Trantor - ra]

    [Proofreader - Gun]

    Ignoring the protests of his allies, he entered deep meditation.

    Mana coursing through three circuits zed through his body.

    "Graaaah!"

    "Grrahhh!"

    Right as the enemies let out monstrous cries and charged.

    "Damn it! Damn it!"

    "Goddammit, let''s just hold on!"

    Clenching their teeth, his allies swung their weapons.

    The enemies, having lost their wits, were makingrge, predictable attacks, which made it easier to withstand than expected.

    But the real problem was their numbers.

    With only four hands, fending off the surrounding attackers for long was impossible.

    "Aaaaargh!"

    "Goddammit...!"

    As the two allies began to get injured and let out cries of pain.

    Oscar lightly exhaled the breath he had been holding andpleted a spell.

    ¡ºIstion Garden¡»

    Biiiiiing!

    With a high-pitched sound, a field of magic expanded from him, annihting all air and magic within a 20-meter radius.

    Itsted only a brief moment, but what was created in that space was perfect emptiness.

    ''If I can''t cut the magic threads, then I just have to create an environment where magic itself can''t exist.''

    Thud, thump, thud.

    The enemies, forcibly disconnected from the ¡ºIncreasing Morale¡», copsed as if they had fainted.

    As Oscar dispelled the magic, his two allies slumped to the ground, gasping for air.

    "Huff! O-Oscar!"

    "Don''t tell me this is..."

    "No."

    Oscar shook his head, already knowing what they were thinking.

    This was merely an imitation of Edna''s unique magic, something he figured would be useful in this situation.

    It was a shy area-wide spell, but it couldn''t bepared to releasing one''s own world.

    "Both of you, return to the mansion first."

    "What? You''re noting with us?"

    "No, I..."

    Oscar murmured as he gazed into the depths of the forest where a colossal force had been stirring for a while.

    "I have someone to bring back."

    * * *

    Every time Killian moved, a red afterglow trailed behind him.

    He unleashed a barrage of attacks at incredible speed, each strike powerful enough to split trees and shatter rocks.

    ''But...''

    None of themnded.

    Kaya dodged every attack with a paper-thin margin.

    "Your moves have improved. You¡¯ve fixed a lot of your bad habits too."

    "......."

    Annoyed by her nonchnt tone, as if she were merely observing his skills, Killian gritted his teeth.

    Simultaneously, two more of the tattoos engraved on his body began to glow.

    ¡ºWind de¡», ¡ºSharpness¡».

    Then, as silver magic seeped into the five fingers he raised, they quickly elongated, resembling the ws of a wolf.

    This was Killian''s unique spell, created by merging two magic spells.

    ¡ºSong of the Wolf¡»

    Crack!

    The sharp ws, spun with a swift rotation of his waist, shed through every tree and rock in their trajectory.

    However, they were effortlessly blocked by Kaya''s index finger.

    "Yes, you''re doing well. You''ve definitely gotten stronger."

    "Urgh..."

    Suddenly, she leaned her head forward.

    "But your attacks are still too straightforward. You don¡¯t know how to deceive your opponent."

    "...A warrior of the forest does not resort to such dishonorable tactics."

    "So, you''re still a fool... Hm?"

    Kaya suddenly stopped talking, her brow furrowing.

    The ¡ºIncreasing Morale¡» she was using had been forcibly cut off.

    ''It was severed? By whom? How?''

    A torrent of questions rushed through her mind, and at that moment, a voice whispered in Killian¡¯s ear.

    -Duck.

    As soon as he recognized it as Oscar''s voice, Killian lowered his upper body.

    Immediately, a shot of ¡ºWind Sniping¡»flew toward where he had been standing.

    Boom!

    Kaya, instinctively grabbing and crushing the wind bullet that was aimed at her, had a shaken look in her eyes.

    ''...Wind?''

    That could only mean it was Oscar Crucian, that Level 3 mage, who had severed her ¡ºIncreasing Morale¡».

    As disbelief clouded her face.

    "Don¡¯t look away!"

    Killian¡¯s fist, charged with radiant silver magic,nded a powerful uppercut on her chin.

    [Trantor - ra]

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 Chapter 49

    [Trantor - ra]

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    Chapter 49: Variable (3)

    Boom!

    The first punch thatnded made a loud noise, but Kaya didn''t even blink.

    "......Ugh!"

    Instead, Killian''s fist trembled beneath Kaya''s chin.

    It was blocked by her mana, unable to advance any further.

    "Dream big, huh? Did you really think you couldnd a hit on me?"

    Before she could get an answer, a second bullet darted through the forest towards her.

    Whoosh!

    As she lightly dodged it and tried to locate the shooter, her eyes wavered.

    ''......He''s not there?''

    The mana of the sniper, Oscar Crucian, couldn''t be felt anywhere in the forest.

    It felt as if a ghost haunted her.

    ''No way. I can''t locate the mana of a mere 3rd-level mage?''

    Something happened that defiedmon sense.

    The reason why the stages of beginner, intermediate, and advanced mages exist in the world is because their limits are clear.

    ''A beginner mage is just starting to master and apply basic spells.''

    An intermediate mage goes a step further, beginning to understand and manipte the essence of magic.

    A 7th-level advanced mage needs no exnation.

    They have created their own universe, essentially bing a creator of a world.

    ''But a beginner mage already understands the essence of magic?''

    And it''s not just a superficial imitation.

    He was showing an overwhelming understanding, enough to gain the upper hand against her, a 7th-level mage.

    For the first time in a while, she felt her heart race.

    ''......So, this guy is a 3rd-level mage, right?

    If he advances to an intermediate or advanced mage, just how far would his control and understanding of magic go?

    She was starting to understand why people called him "the greatest genius of the White Tower."''

    ''Interesting.''

    She couldn''t help but feel intrigued, even though it was at the expense of her younger sibling.

    Her left arm''s tattoo, marked with a ¡ºScan¡» started to glow, and her magic swept over the Hoover family estate.

    ''......Even the Scan spell can''t detect him?''

    Under normal circumstances, Kaya would trust the result and assume the opponent was outside the estate.

    But not now.

    With the mana of a mere 3rd-level mage, it was impossible to snipe from that distance.

    ''He truly is a genius at controlling magic.

    In other words, he''s hiding his mana through some method but is still inside the estate.''

    As she reached this conclusion, she felt a menacing presence behind her.

    "I won''t let you escape."

    This time, Killian charged forward with silver ws on both hands.

    Each time she dodged, thud! crash!¡ªseveral unfortunate trees were cut down, shaking the ground.

    ''This is troublesome.''

    Right then, the third¡ºWind Sniping¡»attack flew in, perfectly timed.

    Without thinking, she deflected it with the back of her hand, her eyes widening in shock.

    ''......What?''

    Her hand stung.

    The mana covering it was melting away in real-time.

    In other words, the bullet of wind contained an¡ºErosion¡»spell.

    This spell is specialized for weakening energy, structural copse, and internal pration, making it excellent at piercing shields.

    But it typically requires a 5th-level mage to use it effectively inbat.

    ''This is getting absurd.''

    Kaya let out a dryugh, her eyes narrowing into half-moons.

    She was dying to know what expression that genius had on his face while toying with her like this.

    ''This won''t do.

    If I''m that curious, I guess I have to go see for myself.''

    Having made up her mind, she activated her ¡ºeleration¡»tattoo for the first time since the battle began.

    "You take your time catching up. Or don''t. I don''t care."

    ".......!"

    And with that, her fist, moving far beyond Killian''s perception, mmed into his sr plexus.

    She moved so fast that she left an afterimage, making it seem like there were two of her.

    Boom!

    "Ugh!"

    Killian, pinned against a tree, coughed up blood just as the anticipated fourth bullet came flying in.

    "......So, that''s roughly where you are."

    She would find him physically if she couldn''t locate him with magic.

    Confirming the direction the bullet came from, she kicked off the ground.

    * * *

    "Killian......."

    After finishing his fourth shot, Oscar immediately stood up when he saw Killian coughing up blood.

    He quickly repositioned himself and altered his magical signature.

    In fact, he''d been continuously switching his magical code without pause.

    ''I need to make sure she can''t detect me.''

    His new magical code matched that of the forest''s trees.

    In other words, unless someoneid eyes directly on him, they would never be able to find his location.

    He had been mimicking the magical energies of the trees, fruits, and vines in the forest.

    ''Damn the royal family, those slowpokes. When is the support they promised going to arrive?''

    Clicking his tongue in annoyance at their dyed assistance.

    Boom!

    A massive explosion rocked the area as a womannded right in front of him, slowly rising to her feet.

    Oscar let out a small groan at the unbelievable sight.

    ''......Did she just cover a distance of over 1 kilometer in a single leap?''

    Her light body was able to do what his father only managed after reaching the 8th level.

    As the dust settled, a pair of red eyes scanned him from head to toe, frozen like a statue.

    "Oh, I see. You copied the magical code of the trees exactly and pasted it on yourself? No wonder I couldn''t find you."

    The only fortunate thing was that there didn''t seem to be any hostility emanating from her.

    For some reason, she even felt slightly friendly and curious.

    ''......Like a child wondering what''s inside a box.''

    In a way, that made it even scarier.

    Children have no qualms about breaking a toy they''ve never seen before.

    "We''ve met before, haven''t we?"

    Oscar slowly nodded at her question.

    He couldn''t believe that the walking bomb he once saw across the street turned out to be her.

    "......Yes, I remember seeing you from across the street."

    "Knew it! We made eye contact back then, didn''t we?"

    She beamed, smiling brightly, seemingly pleased.

    Watching her cheerful expression, Oscar cautiously asked.

    "What is your purpose here?"

    "To destroy the documents that Jake Hoover possesses."

    Damn it.

    He asked in case there was some misunderstanding between them, but it was just as he feared.

    "Could you back off, for the sake of your brother''s face?"

    "Nope, can''t do that. We have our own reasons for getting involved in this mayoral election."

    Negotiation was out of the question.

    With a sullen expression, Oscar asked.

    "How did you end up as a subordinate of Mark Sweet?"

    "Huh? Me, a subordinate of that guy? Are you nuts?"

    Kaya burst outughing, clutching her stomach.

    "I''m a tattooist. There''s no way I''d work under some druggie."

    "........"

    Seeing the confused look on his face, she blinked her eyes.

    "You''ve really never heard of me? Of the tattooist of the Violet Brigade?"

    "Violet Brigade? Does that mean... the one with the designer?"

    "Are you kidding me? This is insane."

    She spat out the curse right away.

    It seemed she couldn''tprehend how a mere designer overshadowed her fame.

    "You''ve heard of that lunatic, but you don''t know who I am? Seriously? This is scratching my pride a lot."

    ¡®Well, sorry, but I''ve really never heard of you.¡¯

    At that moment, the bushes behind them rustled, and Killian emerged.

    "Oscar! Are you okay?"

    "Yeah, for now."

    He approached, eyes fixed on Kaya.

    He subtly moved his lips.

    ''I''ve shed with her briefly, but this is no ordinary monster. Even if we join forces, I can''t see a way to win.''

    It was a message spell.

    Encrypted with magic, it was amunication Kaya wouldn''t be able to hear.

    ''If you know how to use this spell, you can nod or shake your head in response.''

    ''I know how to use it.''

    What do you take me for?

    Of course, I can use it.

    ''Good. So, what do you n to do now?''

    ''What do you think? We fight. We made a promise, didn''t we?''

    They made a vow to Jake Hoover, to that crying child.

    They promised that Mark Sweet would pay the rightful price for his sins.

    Oscar nced at Killian.

    [Trantor - ra]

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    "Killian, if I give you the signal, can you create an opening for just three seconds?"

    "Three seconds... that''s not going to be easy."

    Killian hesitated for a moment before answering honestly.

    The only reason he wasn''t dead yet was that Kaya had been holding back against him.

    But if they were to attack in earnest, it was certain she''d get serious too.

    "I''ll try."

    "Are you sure you can do it?"

    "Whether I can or can''t is not the issue, is it?"

    Killian''s gaze looked more reliable than ever.

    It resembled the look of his father.

    "I''ll do it no matter what."

    "¡­I''m counting on you."

    Nodding, Killian stepped forward towards her.

    "Finished with your strategy meeting? I was getting a bit bored."n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    "Thanks for waiting. I guess there''s still some warrior spirit left in you."

    "It''s basic manners. Besides, I''m curious about what else you might show."

    Her gaze briefly shifted their way.

    Ignoring it, Oscar swiftly began preparing his spell.

    ''Even if I create a perfect void using the Istion Garden, it won''t work against a 7th-level mage.''

    The difference in their fundamental abilities was immense.

    And currently, he was only at level 3.

    ''I can''t maintain that space for hours like I could in my prime.''

    He was sure after using it to break her¡ºIncreasing Morale¡»earlier.

    At most, he could hold it for two seconds.

    That''s the maximum time his mana circuit could sustain before burning out.

    ''Two seconds. It''s not enough time to do much, but...''

    But against a forest warrior, the story was different.

    Tattoo magic was a technique developed by one of the Great Tower Masters of the White Tower and taught to the forest warriors.

    Naturally, the copyrights belonged to the White Tower, and as the previous Tower Master, Oscar had ess to all its secrets.

    "Killian!"

    At Oscar''s shout, a surge of immense mana erupted from Killian.

    Dozens of tattoos carved into his skin activated all at once.

    "Total tattoo activation...? You''re really going that far?"

    Even Kaya clicked her tongue in disbelief.

    This was a technique that activated all the tattoos inscribed on the skin to their maximum limit in one go.

    It was not only difficult to control but also put an enormous strain on the body, something she surely understood.

    "Graaahhh!"

    Killian''s body trembled violently.

    The excruciating pain far surpassed any physical suffering he''d ever endured.

    But in return, he gained a momentary power so immense it could overpower even a 5th-level mage.

    ''I can feel it.''

    The pulsation of this overwhelming power within his body was palpable.

    Yet he wasn''t afraid of this uncontroble force.

    Even if it was just a fleeting illusion like a mirage in the desert, even if it was an unattainable hope...

    ''For now, it''s mine.''

    And he believed that one day, he could make this power his own.

    His confidence pushed back the fear and pain.

    Fiveyers of eleration stacked, and fiveyers of enhancement magic ovepped.

    Countless spells orbited around him like satellites, enhancing his physical capabilities and more.

    "This is the best I can show right now..."

    "..."

    Kaya Lockwood saw the resolve in her brother''s form.

    Seeing this, for the first time, she adopted a stance and gathered her mana.

    "Come at me, forest warrior."

    As her call dropped, the distance between them closed in an instant.

    No, it would be more urate to say the space between them vanished entirely.

    Bam!

    Killian''s fist struck Kaya''s crossed arms in an X-block.

    "...!"

    Her body was pushed slightly back.

    And that wasn''t the end.

    "Take this!"

    Dozens of attack spells from the White Tower rained down on her.

    Kaya clicked her tongue but didn''t evade the spells pouring down on her like a storm.

    She took them head-on.

    "Ugh!"

    It''s still not enough.

    Killian realized the gap between them as he copsed, fainting with his arm still outstretched.

    "This is... frustrating."

    Kaya grimaced as if she had swallowed a bitter pill.

    ''Now.''

    Oscar, who had been watching everything from start to finish, moved at that moment.

    When she had momentarily forgotten his presence while blocking Killian''s magic.

    Oscar crept up silently behind her, suppressing every trace of sound and presence.

    ''Now that Killian''s down...''

    It was then that Kaya noticed Oscar was missing from her line of sight.

    ''Where did he go?''

    As she frantically scanned her surroundings, a spellpleted from behind.

    ¡ºIstion Garden¡»

    Oxygen vanished from the space, and the mana dissipated.

    In this void, where everything disappeared, Kaya turned around, unable to breathe.

    "...!"

    It was a spell so high-level it was hard to believe it came from a mere level 3 mage.

    Kaya Lockwood recognized it.

    She couldn''t help but be captivated by theplex and elegant structure of the spell.

    Beautiful, finely woven, like a tapestry.

    ''Impressive and beautiful. But...''

    That''s all.

    This kind of magic could not defeat someone who had reached the 7th level.

    The difference in their fundamental abilities was simply too vast.

    Not to mention that a trained forest warrior could hold their breath for over ten minutes.

    ''A genius, but still only at this level?''

    Even so, her heart raced at the thought of how this sprout might bloom, how far this budding talent might reach.

    But...

    ''Not yet.''

    With a slightly regretful look, Kaya began gathering her mana.

    Then a sudden electric sensation jolted through her entire body.

    ''What... is this?''

    It felt as if her control over her own body had been taken away.

    And indeed, that was the case.

    ''I can''t activate my tattoo magic?''

    She stared at Oscar with eyes widened in disbelief.

    The principle behind tattoo magic was different from ordinary spellcasting, which processes everything internally.

    The tattoos required the mage to release mana externally first.

    ''He''s reading the flow and timing of my mana release, cutting it off at every turn...?''

    A cold shiver ran down her spine as if cold water had been poured over her head.

    Could this really be dismissed as mere talent or genius?

    She didn''t think so.

    ''This is... dangerous.''

    In that fleeting moment of realization.

    Oscar, having closed the distance, had already prepared a second spell.

    A finishing move that bypassed all defenses and targeted the internal structure directly.

    Oscar''s Special Technique, Secret Chapter 1: Sound of the Waves.

    Shwooooosh!

    The sound of crashing waves engulfed the winter forest.

    [Trantor - ra]

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 Chapter 50

    [Trantor - ra]

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    Chapter 50: Variable (4)

    "......."

    Kaya Lockwood momentarily thought she was dreaming.

    What filled her vision was a fist, but beyond it, she could catch a glimpse of a massive wave.

    ¡®A mental image...?¡¯

    It didn¡¯t make sense.

    A mere Level 3 mage not only grasping the nature of mana but also embedding their mental image into magic was unbelievable.

    ¡®If I get hit by something like that without any protection spell...¡¯

    No matter how skilled she was, she wouldn¡¯t escape unscathed.

    Her expression hardened as if time itself had stopped, like a spell had been cast.

    ¡°Damn it!¡±

    Oscar bit his lip.

    His magic power had run low, causing his¡ºIstion Garden¡»spell to dissipate.

    They were so close.

    If it hadsted just one more second, or even half a second longer, she would have been caught off guard...

    Regaining control of her body, Kaya quickly used ¡ºeleration¡» and leapt backward.

    "Ugh!"

    Oscar''s fist only struck her afterimage, his finishing blow missing its mark.

    The proofy in the sudden 10-meter gap that had formed between them.

    "......"

    Oscar examined the distance between them.

    Kaya was also observing something simr.

    More precisely, she was looking at the footprints on the snow-covered ground in front of her.

    Those footprints were proof that she had retreated from her opponent.

    Her heart was still pounding violently.

    She couldn¡¯t tell anymore.

    ¡®Am I still excited...?! Or is it the sense of danger I felt in that moment?¡¯

    She slowly raised her head, staring at the genius¡ªor rather, the monster¡ªin front of her.

    "What the hell are you?"

    It didn¡¯t make sense that a mere Level 3 mage possessed suchbat intuition and situational awareness.

    Moreover, that final attack, which mimicked the sound of crashing waves, was a type of magic she had never encountered before.

    ¡®To have created such magic at his age and level... It''s not just talent.¡¯

    She genuinely felt the danger.

    Her clenched fist tightened, then rxed repeatedly.

    Her instincts screamed that she needed to eliminate this threat now, yet her curiosity as a mage wondered what kind of fruit this budding talent might eventually bear.

    "......"

    Oscar received herplex gaze directly but showed no reaction.

    For two reasons:

    First, he didn¡¯t have the strength left to respond.

    And second...

    ¡®Ah, if I had known this would happen, I wouldn¡¯t have pushed so hard.¡¯

    Because there was no longer any need for him to react.

    Thud!

    A pitch-ck sword plunged into the ground between the two of them.

    "...The ck Sword?"

    Kaya squinted as she recognized the weapon.

    As she lifted her head, the sky above Baran City was filled with colorful fireworks, and a man descended like a meteor.

    Boom!

    The man, dressed in a deep navy uniform,nded in front of Oscar and the unconscious Killian as if to shield them.

    His short, jet-ck hair matched his gaunt, indifferent face well.

    "I am Superintendent Walker of the Imperial Ministry of Internal Affairs."

    After identifying himself per the guidelines of the Ministry, he pulled the ck sword out of the ground with a sharp sound.

    "Kaya Lockwood. I am here to arrest you for murder, arson, and 17 other charges."

    * * *

    The previously rxed atmosphere of the forest tightened like a pulled string.

    An explosive standoff where death on either side wouldn¡¯t be surprising.

    After staring at her opponent for a moment, Kaya was the first to speak.

    "........The Emperor''s ck Sword."

    Hearing her voice filled with suppressed difort, Oscar was convinced.

    This time, the imperial family had indeed sent proper reinforcements.

    ¡®A Level 7 Knight. He is no less skilled than Kaya Lockwood herself.¡¯

    And that wasn''t all.

    He could sense other mana signatures gradually converging from a distance.

    They seemed to be powerful figures, estimated to be at Level 5.

    "Even the elite of the Ministry of Internal Affairs?"

    Kaya, sensing the same thing, furrowed her brow.

    Dealing with just the ck Sword would be tough enough, but facing his elite squad as well would be a significant challenge.

    "Tch."

    After running through some calctions in her head, she clicked her tongue and withdrew her mana.

    Since the imperial family had already caught on to the Violet Brigade''s involvement in the Baran City election, it wasn¡¯t worth continuing this fight.

    In short, there was no profit in dragging this out any further.

    The sharp tension dissipated like smoke, reced by a harmless smile on her lips.

    "Alright, I¡¯ll call it quits. I¡¯ll just head back quietly."

    "I''m afraid I can¡¯t let you leave so easily."

    "A wise person knows when to retreat gracefully, don''t you agree?"

    "...You¡¯re not listening to me."

    Ignoring Walker¡¯s words, Kaya lifted one foot.

    Simultaneously, the tension that had been present before was nothingpared to what came next.

    The air of the forest began to vibrate intensely.

    Her red eyes swept over both Walker and Oscar.

    "I won¡¯t forget the debt from tonight. Especially you."

    Her gaze, filled with indecision, lingered as if debating whether to kill or spare them.

    "I¡¯ll make sure to see you again, kid."

    With seven tattoos activated, Kaya executed a swift advance.

    Boom!

    A shockwave swept through the area, forcing Walker to erect a shield to protect the two behind him quickly.

    "........"

    As the dust settled, there was no trace of Kaya in the crater left behind.

    "To think she¡¯d resort to using hostages,"

    Walker clicked his tongue lightly, his ck sword losing its color and reverting to a normal appearance.

    As he sheathed his sword, he asked Oscar,

    "What were you thinking, challenging that woman? You could have lost your life."

    "........."

    Bang! Pop-pop!

    The only response was the loud sound of fireworks.

    ncing back, he noticed that both Killian and Oscar had already passed out.

    Watching them for a moment, Walker quietly muttered to himself.

    "......But they held out well."

    Tonight, the heroes who saved this city were the young mages of the White Tower.

    * * *

    ''Ah.''

    As always, whenever he dreamed, the atmosphere felt hazy, as if a faint filter was applied.

    Unnecessarily so.

    ¡®The ce seems to be near the outdoor training grounds.¡¯

    He remembered feeling full on this day.

    Judging by the position of the sun overhead, it must have been shortly after lunch.

    He was walking towards the forest area of the White Tower grounds.

    "You startled me."

    "He sometimes just sits quietly up there in the trees like that."

    "He''s so brave and reliable on the battlefield, but somehow, he''s intimidating to approach in everyday life."

    The mages exiting the forest whispered amongst themselves and hurriedly bowed towards him.

    He gave a slight nod in acknowledgment and continued inside, his gaze naturally lifting towards a massive tree.

    "What are you doing up there?"

    A man wearing a white lion¡¯s head was sitting on a thick branch.

    From his appearance alone, no one would think he was a mage, given his muscr build.

    The impression was even stronger with his upper body bare and a robe draped over his shoulders like a cloak.

    "I''m looking at a photo."

    "What photo?"

    He lightly pushed off the ground andnded beside him.

    The predator''s eyes slowly turned towards him.

    Shifting his gaze to the photo the man held, he replied,

    "I''m looking at a family photo."

    "Don¡¯t you ever get tired of looking at it?"

    "No, surprisingly not."

    The family in the photo he glimpsed seemed very happy.

    An elegant wife clung to Radan''s arm, and a little girl, barely three years old, was crying because she was scared of her dad¡¯s lion mask.

    "Couldn''t you have taken off that mask just for the photo? Kaya wouldn''t cry if you did."

    "......No, I can''t."

    Radan shook his head firmly.

    "I''m the chief of the forest warriors and a representative mage of the White Tower. I need to maintain my dignity."

    "In other words, you look too kind-hearted without the mask, so you don¡¯t appear intimidating?"

    "I wish I had a rugged, handsome face like Maxim."

    "......That guy does have a manly look."

    Oscar nodded,paring him to freshly dug new potatoes from a clean countryside.

    Then he nced at Radan''s wife and asked,

    "You''re having another child, right?"

    "So I heard."

    "That¡¯s amazing. I¡¯d be too scared to have kids, worried they¡¯d turn out just like me."

    "If they take after you, they¡¯ll probably be very disobedient."

    Radan chuckled, his shoulders shaking as he continued,

    "But I think it will be fine. You¡¯ll be a good father."

    "What makes you think that?"

    "I can tell from how you treat yourrades, subordinates, and students. You¡¯ll be an even bigger doting parent than I am."

    "......Shut up."

    Oscar scoffed, then asked,

    "It''s going to be a boy this time, right?"

    "ording to the tribe¡¯s fortune-teller, yes."

    "Later, Kaya can walk hand in hand with him and enter the White Tower together."

    "I don¡¯t intend to force my children to be mages if they don''t want to."

    [Trantor - ra]

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    "......But their dad is one of the White Tower''s representative mages?"

    "A dream is something you create on your own, not something your parents impose on you."

    Radan looked at the photo once more.

    "Besides, if they are my children, they¡¯ll know what honor and justice are. They¡¯ll do well no matter what they choose."

    ¡°......Still, you should send them to the White Tower. I¡¯ll teach them well, I promise."

    "I''ll consider it. I can trust you, after all."

    A deep chuckle echoed from inside the lion''s head.

    * * * *

    The rustling sound made him open his eyes.

    ''Phew, that was close.''

    He almost ended up fighting that brute.

    Looking up at the ceiling, he figured it was a bedroom in the Hoover mansion.

    Turning to the side, he saw Killian sitting in a chair, carefully peeling an apple.

    He neatly ced the slices on a te and then began eating them himself.

    "............Isn¡¯t it normal to peel fruit and give it to the patient?"

    "Oh, you¡¯re awake?"

    Killian, munching on the apple, replied.

    "The priest said you should only have light soup for now. So, I¡¯m eating this on your behalf."

    "If you¡¯re going to eat it, why peel it and ce it beside me?"

    "It tastes better this way; it feels more like a proper visit to a sick person."

    "......."

    He had forgotten.

    A forest warrior is someone you should understand with your heart, not your head.

    "Enjoy."

    "Thanks. This apple is delicious."

    Groaning, he tried to sit up, grimacing as he did so.

    Killian spoke up,

    "Jake called a high-ranking priest. He recognized you and asked what kind of person you were."

    "......Oh, it must be the man Marin called before."

    It made sense for him to react like that.

    Just a few days after fixing him up, here he was as a severe patient again.

    "They said the treatment was mostly finished and that there shouldn''t be any major issues."

    "How long was I out?"

    "Three days."

    For having been unconscious for so long, he surprisingly felt in good shape.

    He¡¯d had a dream, but nothing was distorted or unpleasant.

    It had ended neatly.

    Above all, this high priest did a fine job with the healing.

    Aside from some mild muscle pain, there wasn¡¯t much to worry about.

    "How¡¯s your condition?"

    "A warrior of the forest recovers quickly. I was dered fully healed in two days."

    "Must be nice to be so sturdy. What¡¯s the situation?"

    "The Ministry of Security¡¯s elite squad apprehended the surviving mercenaries and raided the Sweet family. Mark Sweet has been arrested, and his secretary, terrified, confessed to all their wrongdoings."

    d things worked out well.

    Now there was no risk of Baran City falling into the hands of a drug cartel.

    "......."

    Oscar looked at Killian thoughtfully.

    He didn¡¯t seem affected by fighting against his own family.

    ¡­Or was he just pretending not to be?

    Hard to say which it was.

    One thing was clear, though: in Oscar''s eyes, Killian just looked like a machine that consumed apples.

    "Oscar, sir! You¡¯re awake!"

    At that moment, Jake entered the room with a broad smile.

    He looked over and asked,

    "Are you really okay to be up already? You¡¯re not pushing yourself too hard, are you?"

    He¡¯d heard this same thing from Marin.

    Maybe this fragile-looking body of his tends to invite concern from others.

    "I¡¯m fine, thanks to the high priest you called."

    "Of course. I never would¡¯ve imagined that Mark Sweet would actually be arrested."

    "I told you, didn¡¯t I? He would pay for his crimes."

    After exchanging smiles, Jake spoke with determination.

    "I always dreamed of bing a great politician, following in my father¡¯s footsteps, but I¡¯ve changed my mind."

    Oscar, noticing the bright gleam in Jake¡¯s eyes, rubbed his nose with a bit of embarrassment.

    Though it was slightly embarrassing, he was used to hearing such things.

    "Thank you for thepliment. If you work hard, one day, you¡¯ll surely be as great a mage as I am."

    "¡­What? Oh, well, that would be nice, but I want to be a civil servant and join the Ministry of Security. I want to punish wrongdoers and help even one more citizen who has been wronged."

    "........"

    Next to him, Killian chuckled, munching on an apple.

    "A good dream. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll make a fine civil servant, Jake."

    "Thank you. Oh, and here¡¯s the payment I promised earlier."

    Inside the envelope Jake handed over was a check for one million bels.

    Killian¡¯s share was 250,000.

    "I¡¯ve received the fullmission."

    "I¡¯d love to give you more, but there¡¯s a lot my family needs to deal with as well."

    "It¡¯s alright. This is more than enough."

    All he needed, anyway, was the 400,000 bells for the Blood Tower.

    Jake gave another deep bow of gratitude.

    "If you ever visit Baran City again, please reach out."

    "I¡¯ll make sure of it."

    "Yes, you must! Next time, I¡¯ll treat you to the best food in this city."

    Afterughing cheerfully, Jake led his attendants out of the room.

    Then Chief Walker entered the room.

    "Quite the price on your heads."

    "¡­Pardon?"

    Looking back and forth between my and Killian''s heads, he added,

    "A bounty of 300,000 bels was ced on you two. A woman named Ara Sweet put it there. Do you know her?"

    "We¡¯ve crossed paths."

    "That woman will end up in prison, too. She¡¯s killed countless people she didn¡¯t like. Living freely outside might have been a harsher punishment."

    True enough, perhaps.

    The Sweet family, which was her pride, had crumbled, and many held grudges against her.

    "And that was a good call."

    "What was?"N?v(el)B\\jnn

    "The royalmunication crystal. Jake Hoover told me you were the one who used it."

    "¡­Ah, well, about that¡­"

    Needless to say, the code for the royalmunication crystal was top secret.

    If they asked me how he knew, what would he even say?

    As he began to sweat, Walker brushed it off.

    "How is the Tower Master?"

    "¡­Pardon?"

    "Well, you were in a rush, so you probably didn¡¯t have time to exchange greetings."

    Ah, so he thinks he asked Sasha to contact the pce.

    Oscar didn¡¯t bother to correct the misunderstanding.

    "It¡¯s about time I left."

    "Already?"

    "Not ¡®already¡¯¡ªI¡¯m only now leaving. Coming here set me back on my work."

    The Ministry of Security must be quite busy.

    That must mean there¡¯s no shortage of people to apprehend.

    "That must be tough."

    "I¡¯m just doing my job. Rest up."

    As Walker was about to leave the room, he suddenly stopped, looked back, and asked,

    "Are all mages of the White Tower like you two?"

    "¡­"

    Killian nced at me, seemingly leaving the answer to Oscar.

    After a brief pause, Oscar asked,

    "What do you mean by ¡®like us¡¯?"

    "Are they all¡­"

    Walker trailed off, shook his head, and said,

    "No, never mind. Rest up."

    After a curt farewell, Walker left the room and walked down the corridor, pausing to nce back once more.

    All the mages he¡¯d known so far had been mostly selfish, focused only on their own interests.

    But these two from the White Tower were different.

    ¡®If the mages of the White Tower in previous generations were like these two¡­!

    Maybe now I understand, at least a little, why the elders cherish the White Tower so much and why they still hold it dear to their hearts.''

    [Trantor - ra]

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 Chapter 51

    [Trantor - ra]

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    Chapter 51: Mage Hunter (1)

    In the city of Rouen, known as the Heart of the East, the Yellow Tower stood as a uniquendmark, its appearance distinct from any conventional mage tower.

    Instead of a cylindrical shape, it seemed as though hundreds of cubes of varying sizes had been stacked together in a haphazard manner.

    ¡°The Head of the Department of Magical Engineering is entering!¡±

    The department with the most power in this highly distinctive Yellow Tower was, without a doubt, the Department of Magical Engineering.

    It boasted unparalleled influence, credited with changing the world in just 20 years.

    Moreover, its head, Tony Haberz, was the only disciple of the tower¡¯s master.

    As the brown-haired man in his mid-thirties with a neatlybed pomade hairstyle entered the conference room and naturally took the seat of honor, he surveyed the room and spoke in a voice that subtly invoked tension.

    ¡°Let¡¯s begin the meeting. As usual, let¡¯s hear about the activities of the other towers first.¡±

    At his words, an elderly mage who had prepared the report opened his mouth.

    ¡°The Red Tower has securedmand over arge-scale monster subjugation operation. Themander is said to be Lloyd Schultz, the Ash Wizard and disciple of the Red Tower Master.¡±

    ¡°Was there no way for us to intervene?¡±

    ¡°Well, it seems... the military is too heavily influenced by the Red Tower¡­¡±

    The elderly mage trailed off, casting cautious nces around.

    The mages of the Yellow Tower were all somewhat intimidated by Tony.

    It wasn¡¯t that he was known for being cruel or for handing out punitive measures excessively, yet he inspired unease regardless.

    ¡°So, the Red Tower will achieve the most notable results in this subjugation, then.¡±

    If themander was from the Red Tower, they would undoubtedly position their mages to reap the greatest rewards.

    Tony nodded indifferently, as if he hadn¡¯t expected anything different.

    Wasting energy on the impossible was the height of inefficiency.

    ¡°When the dayes that they make a major mistake, our turn wille. What about the Blue Tower?¡±

    ¡°Oh, it seems they are in quite a predicament.¡±

    A mage in charge of monitoring the Blue Tower eagerly replied, sensing a chance to improve the atmosphere.

    ¡°Recently, the Blue Tower has been ceding its share of the potion market to the White Tower. While, for now, it¡¯s merely irritating for them, if this continues, it could be a significant problem.¡±

    Tony nodded.

    ¡®The Blue Tower certainly seems to have taken a major tumbletely. They¡¯ve been careless.¡¯

    Their attempt to undercut the White Tower with a discount campaign had backfired, stabbing them in the back.

    He wouldn¡¯t have made such a foolish move if it had been him.

    With a slightly appeased expression, Tonymented,

    ¡°So, the White Tower must be celebrating right now.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. Most of all, they are likely rejoicing in the achievements of Oscar Crucian.¡±

    ¡°¡­That¡¯s a name I¡¯ve been hearing more oftentely.¡±

    To be honest, he had thought he would never hear that name again.

    Once discarded by all the mage towers as a broken toy, what reason was there for his resurgence?

    ¡°Yes, and there¡¯s more news about him. Whilepleting a mission in Baran City, he reportedly encountered the Tattooist.¡±

    ¡°¡­That¡¯s quite unfortunate news.¡±

    As a fellow mage, Tony couldn¡¯t help but feel a pang of pity.

    The Tattooist was a mage from the brutal and notorious Violet Brigade, with a massive bounty on her head.

    For a novice mage to cross paths with her was akin to being swept up in a natural disaster.

    ¡°Did he die?¡±

    ¡°No. Surprisingly, he wasn¡¯t gravely injured. Just a few days¡¯ rest, and he¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    ¡°¡­He encountered the Tattooist and came out with only minor injuries?¡±

    Tony¡¯s face showed disbelief.

    Never before had there been such a mild oue from an encounter with her.

    ¡°Yes, and what¡¯s causing even more buzz is that Oscar Crucian has ascended to Level 3.¡±

    ¡°Level 3? Isn¡¯t he a mana-deficiency patient?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s correct, which is why there are rumors that he might have found a cure for mana deficiency.¡±

    ¡°A cure for mana deficiency¡­¡±

    If true, it would be a discovery of the century.

    Mana deficiency was an incurable disease that even the greatest mages had failed to resolve.

    ¡°We¡¯ll monitor that situation further.¡±

    ¡°Understood. Additionally, regarding the White Tower, they seem to have recently taken an interest in magical engineering.¡±

    ¡°¡­Magical engineering? In the White Tower of all ces?¡±

    Tony tilted his head slightly.

    It didn¡¯t make sense.

    The White Tower¡¯s current ventures¡ªdelivery services, potions, and supplements¡ªhad nothing to do with magical engineering.

    ¡°What leads you to think that?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s evidence that books and theses rted to magical engineering have been flowing into the White Tower inrge quantities.¡±

    Tony might have dismissed it as overblown spection if someone else had said this.

    It was more usible to assume a few mages had developed personal curiosity.

    But Tony, who understood better than anyone how a tiny crack could lead to the copse of a dam, didn¡¯t dismiss the report.

    He frowned slightly and pondered.

    ¡°Hmm¡­ If, by any chance, the White Tower truly is showing interest in magical engineering, what do you think their motive might be?¡±

    The question was met with a heavy silence in the conference room.

    Tony didn¡¯t rush or show irritation, calmly intecing his fingers as he waited.

    Eventually, a young mage hesitantly raised his hand.

    ¡°Well¡­ There¡¯s a rumor in the mineral market that the White Tower recently purchased arge quantity of levitation stones. While not as valuable as mithril, these stones have excellent mana conductivity and a special property that makes them float when imbued with mana.¡±

    ¡°Go on.¡±

    ¡°So, I wondered¡­ Could it be that the White Tower is trying to develop an airship? Levitation stones are essential for building airships, and if that¡¯s the case, their interest in magical engineering would make sense¡­¡±

    A heavy silence fell over the room as soon as he finished speaking.

    But momentster, everyone burst intoughter, as if on cue.

    ¡°Haha!¡±

    ¡°An airship? Haha, absurd!¡±

    ¡°That one! I thought he was just a bookworm, but he¡¯s quite theedian.¡± n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    ¡°Such an imagination!¡±

    The oldest mage in the room chuckled as he spoke.

    ¡°An airship is nothing but a pipe dream. Do you think we haven¡¯t tried it before?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I see¡­¡±

    ¡°Of course, today¡¯s mages wouldn¡¯t know. Magical engineering itself is a byproduct of the old Sky Project.¡±

    After the advent of magical engineering, the Yellow Tower had secretly attempted to develop airships.

    They believed the new technology could ovee past failures.

    But all they encountered was failure¡ªutter and relentless.

    ¡°After countless failures, we concluded that neither lightning magic nor magical engineering alone could ever make an airship feasible. Perhaps if the unique magic of thete Oscar Sage, Ouroboros, were still around¡­¡±

    Another mage nodded in agreement.

    ¡°That¡¯s true. If airships were possible, the Yellow Tower wouldn¡¯t have invested so heavily in developing railroads.¡±

    The Yellow Tower had recentlypleted trial runs of trains in several cities, including the capital, Rosetta.

    Buoyed by that sess, they were now building a grand railway line to span the continent.

    ¡°We don¡¯t need to chase the illusion of the sky.¡±

    ¡°The cutting-edge magic engineering encasing the Iron Horse will make the Yellow Tower the greatest tower of magic on the continent.¡±

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s true thatying down the tracks is currently costing us astronomical sums... but once the tracks areplete and the trains start running, it¡¯s only a matter of time before we recover the investment.¡±

    ording to calctions, it will only take two weeks to traverse the entire continent once the tracks are finished.

    This includes the time spent stopping to rece the magic engineering batteries.

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    Compared to the current fastest means of transportation¡ªships¡ªwhich take several months, the speed was nothing short of revolutionary.

    In essence, the very concept of transportation would be turned on its head.

    Potions?

    Deliveries?

    Monster hunting?

    Those outdated industries wouldn¡¯t evene close to the profits of continent-spanning train trade.

    Tony brought the daydreaming mages back to reality.

    ¡°Let¡¯s put the Yellow Tower and train talk aside. Have we identified the record-breaking mage¡¯s identity yet?¡±

    Not long ago, an anonymous mage cleared ARGO, the magic engineering training program¡¯s 100th level, in a mere 9 minutes and 57 seconds.

    Naturally, the Yellow Tower was scouring far and wide to recruit this prodigious talent, who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

    ¡°We¡¯ve narrowed down a list, but no solid suspects yet.¡±

    ¡°Hmm...¡±

    Tony¡¯s displeasure was evident.

    Although the training program was created by the Yellow Tower, they weren¡¯t allowed to ess its data freely.

    The royal family had strictly prohibited such ess under the pretense of protecting personal information.

    ¡®They call it protection, but in reality, it¡¯s just a ploy to keep us in check.¡¯

    If the Yellow Tower could ess personal information without restriction, their intelligence capabilities would surpass even the royal family¡¯s.

    As a result, they had to sign an ord requiring royal approval for any personal data inquiries.

    ¡°...We have no choice. Keep searching diligently. Such talent must be brought into our fold.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±

    There were far too many obstacles blocking the path of the great Yellow Tower.

    Clicking his tongue, Tony muttered absently.

    ¡°Let¡¯s move on to the next agenda.¡±

    * * *

    Just before leaving the Hoover estate, a stranger came to visit.

    ¡°Greetings. I am Klein Mathis, a Level 5 mage and the branch manager of the Blood Tower¡¯s Baran office.¡±

    ¡°...Oscar Crucian, Level 3 mage of the¡ª¡±

    Oscar mumbled the part about the White Tower.

    If the man realized he was from the White Tower, he would surely demand 30% more in fees.

    But his desperate attempt to conceal it crumbled pathetically.

    ¡°You¡¯re with the White Tower, I see. Surviving an encounter with that tattooist isn¡¯t exactly obscure information.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    Oscar reluctantly searched his pockets.

    How much more would that be if it¡¯s a 30% hike?

    850,000 bels?

    Just as he was mentally calcting the additional payment, Klein suddenly pulled out a pouch of money and handed it to him.

    ¡°...What is this?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the 1.1 million bel advance payment you gave us. Please verify it.¡±

    ¡°What I mean is, why are you returning the money?¡±

    ¡°To be blunt, we failed to find the person in question. Our tracking magic kept breaking during the process.¡±

    Magic breaking?

    ¡®Could it be...?¡¯

    A bad thought crossed Oscar¡¯s mind as he epted the pouch.

    ¡°Do you have any idea why that might be?¡±

    ¡°Yes. On this continent, there are a few areas where the flow of magic bes so unstable that our tracking spells fail. Based on where the spells broke down this time...¡±

    Klein continued with an uneasy expression.

    ¡°The person you¡¯re searching for is likely beyond the Red Mountains.¡±

    Bad premonitions often prove correct; once again, the Red Mountains were the cause.

    In the past, tracking spells frequently failed when searching for demons beyond those mountains.

    ¡°At any rate, since we¡¯ve returned the contract payment, consider the matter nullified.¡±

    After bowing briefly, Klein quickly left the room, as though eager to sever any ties with the request.

    Oscar stared at the money pouch on the table, deep in thought.

    ¡®Beyond the Red Mountains...¡¯

    Could it be that after his death, she was unable to escape the gray zone beyond the mountains?

    If true, it would perfectly exin why she hadn¡¯t sent any information to the White Tower for the past 20 years.

    But why?

    That question lingered in his mind.

    ¡®The demons couldn¡¯t detect her as she soared silently above the clouds.¡¯

    Thanks to her, they had reaped enormous advantages throughout the war.

    If she couldn¡¯t escape that ce, there had to be another reason.

    ¡®...One thing¡¯s for sure¡ªshe¡¯s not dead.¡¯

    The proof was that the Blood Tower¡¯s tracking spell worked up to a certain point.

    And if she had been in mortal danger, she would¡¯ve used her unique spell, Garden of Eternity.

    That spell rendered everything within a certain radius¡ªincluding the caster¡ªuninterruptible and frozen in ce.

    ¡®If she used that spell, she wouldn¡¯t be able to move, but she also wouldn¡¯t die.¡¯

    It severed the surrounding space entirely from the world.

    In fact, if the White Tower had failed to kill the Great Emperor, n B would have involved her deploying that spell.

    Edna would have sacrificed herself to trap the Great Emperor in stasis alongside her eternally.

    ¡®I¡¯ll need to go beyond the Red Mountains to confirm anything...¡¯

    At his current skill level, it was out of the question.

    He would need to be at least Level 5 or 6 to navigate the area safely.

    ¡®For now, the priority is...¡¯

    Growth.

    While contemting how to grow stronger quickly, someone knocked on his door.

    ¡°Come in.¡±

    A servant of the Hoover family entered, holding arge wiredmunicator.

    ¡°Oscar, sir, a call from the White Tower.¡±

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 Chapter 52

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    Chapter 52: Mage Hunter (2)

    ¡°A call?¡±

    Oscar mouthed the words.

    ¡°Who is it?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Elder Maxim of the White Tower.¡±

    Maxim, huh?

    As the attendant handed him the receiver of themunicator, Oscar took it and stared at it nkly.

    He¡¯d seen Archbishop Baldwin use one before, but it was his first time handling it himself.

    ¡°Do I hold it up to my face like this? Hello? Can you hear me?¡±

    ¡°Uh, Sir Oscar, you¡¯re holding it upside down.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I have to hold it to my ear this way.¡±

    The moment he adjusted the receiver correctly, a flood of naggingints sted through.

    ¨C Oscar! What kind of dangerous stunts are you pulling out there for your name to dominate the newspapers...

    I should¡¯ve kept holding it upside down.

    Wearing a sour expression, he endured five minutes of Maxim¡¯s scolding before thetter seemed to calm down and allowed some concern to creep into his tone.

    ¨C Anyway, are you okay? How¡¯s your health?

    ¡°I¡¯m fine overall. My ears are stinging a bit, though.¡±

    ¨C Your mouth seems fine, judging by that cheeky reply.

    ¡°My body¡¯s fine too. But why the sudden call?¡±

    ¨C I was worried about your return trip. The reason I suggested Kilian escort you back in the first ce was because of that new criminal prowling around the northern region¡ªthe so-called ¡®Mage Hunter.¡¯ It¡¯s not safe for you to encounter someone like that in your current state.

    ¡°...The Mage Hunter?¡±

    Intrigued, Oscar switched the receiver to his other ear.

    ¡°How strong are they?¡±

    ¨C Over ten mages have already fallen victim, including a Level 5 mage, so you can assume they¡¯re at least that powerful.

    ¡°...Have any of our White Tower mages been targeted?¡±

    ¨C Fortunately, not yet. But even mages from the Red Tower and Yellow Tower have been attacked recently. It¡¯s only a matter of time before it¡¯s our turn.

    It was concerning news¡ªthough, to be honest, Oscar was more worried for other mages than himself.

    ¡®Especially since the northern regions have traditionally been the White Tower¡¯s domain¡­¡¯

    Though their numbers had dwindled, there were still many White Tower mages in the north, likely because Sirin, the heart of their operations, was located there.

    ¡°Thank you for the warning. I¡¯ll be careful.¡±

    ¨C Good. Remember, the Mage Hunter only targets solitary mages. Stay with Kilian at all times.

    After ending the call, Oscar stepped into the hallway where Kilian was leaning against the wall, waiting for him.

    ¡°You seemed to be talking to someone. Was it Elder Maxim?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, he told me to be cautious because there¡¯s some Mage Hunter lurking around.¡±

    ¡°Hah, what an absurd individual.¡±

    Kilian scoffed and pushed off the wall.

    ¡°Do we just head straight back to the White Tower, then?¡±

    ¡°Before that¡ª¡±n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    Whir, whoosh.

    Oscar swung a thick envelope filled with cash, the sound resembling a club being brandished.

    Inside the envelope was a hefty 1.85 million bels, including the contract fee he¡¯d recovered from Klein.

    ¡°Let¡¯s do some shopping first.¡±

    * * *

    Shopping was another must-do activity in a city famed for its booze and gambling.

    To prove it, Baran City hosted the world¡¯srgest auction every week, attracting wealthy patrons with high-quality, verified goods.

    However, the ce Oscar intended to visit wasn¡¯t the auction house.

    ¡°...Don¡¯t you already have enough money?¡±

    Kilian asked, eyeing the dazzling casino in front of them.

    Magical lights illuminated the building¡¯s exterior as night fell, making it shine like a festival.

    ¡°I have plenty.¡±

    ¡°Then why are we here? Gambling is a vice.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not here to gamble, so don¡¯t worry.¡±

    Smirking, Oscar approached the entrance adorned with a golden dragon sculpture.

    Beneath it stood doormen in sleek ck suits.

    Passing them, the duo entered, revealing a bustling gambling hall.

    ¡°Damn it, it¡¯s about time I hit the jackpot...¡±

    ¡°Raise.¡±

    ¡°Ugh, I fold. My luck¡¯s trash today.¡±

    The casino¡¯s central area was filled with slot machines and card tables.

    Slot machines of various themes and colors spun endlessly, their jingles enticing new customers.

    Meanwhile, well-dressed dealers manned the card tables, ready to amodate yers.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

    Oscar led Kilian toward the cashier¡¯s cage.

    A cheerful employee greeted them.

    ¡°Hello, how can I assist you today?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d like to buy some chips¡ªthe darkest, most obscure ones you have.¡±

    The employee¡¯s expression subtly shifted as they handed over two dull, dark chips.

    ¡°That¡¯ll be 20,000 bels.¡±

    After paying and pocketing the chips, Kilian frowned.

    ¡°You said you¡¯re not gambling. Why buy chips?¡±

    ¡°These aren¡¯t for games¡ªthey¡¯re tickets.¡±

    ¡°Tickets?¡±

    ¡°Too much to exin. Just follow me.¡±

    Oscar headed toward the emergency stairwell, descending until they reached the 9th and final basement floor.

    A burly guard sat in front of a sturdy door, his aura suggesting he was around Level 3 in magic.

    ¡°Two people.¡±

    After inspecting them, Oscar handed over the two chips, and the guard unlocked the door.

    Whaty beyond was a stark contrast to the glittering casino above.

    Kilian¡¯s sharp eyes widened in shock.

    ¡°Oscar, this ce...?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the ck market.¡±

    The underground cavern was vast, its chill air brushing past them.

    Stone buildings were scattered throughout, and luminescent crystals embedded in the towering ceiling glittered like stars.

    ¡°This... is astounding. How could they construct such a ce beneath the city?¡±

    ¡°Dwarven craftsmanship,¡±

    Oscar replied with a shrug.

    ¡°If you¡¯re done gawking, let¡¯s move. The longer we stay, the worse it¡¯ll get.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean by that?¡±

    As Kilian looked around, he noticed the stares directed their way.

    Not just subtle nces¡ªopen, brazen scrutiny.

    ¡°These stares are unsettling. Why are they looking at us like that?¡±

    ¡°Kilian, do you know why the royal family tolerates the ck market¡¯s existence?¡±

    Kilian shook his head.

    ¡°I don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s basically a trash bin.¡±

    In a sprawling empire, managing scattered refuse is a hassle.

    Instead, the court opted to gather the trash in one ce.

    ¡°Of course, the trash can¡¯t overflow, so the court keeps it in check. ck market leaders even report their activities to the royal family.¡±

    ¡°...This isplicated.¡±

    ¡°To simplify: it¡¯s a mutual understanding. Even the court can¡¯t catch or kill every criminal out there.¡±

    Without such an outlet, criminals might wreak havoc in the surface cities.

    In short, the ck market was a space where minor criminals were tacitly allowed to roam.

    ¡°So those unsettling stares I noticed¡ªthey really are unpleasant?¡±

    ¡°Probably. They¡¯re likely thinking, ¡®Does he have money? Could I take him in a fight?¡¯ But don¡¯t worry too much. Even criminals know causing trouble here leaves them with nowhere else to go.¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡±

    As if resolving himself, Kilian suddenly shouted:

    ¡°I am Kilian Lockwood, a proud warrior of the forest! Anyone who dares give us an unpleasant look will lose their eyes!¡±

    ¡°...Wow.¡±

    As expected of a forest warrior¡ªunpredictable and ever fresh.

    To Oscar¡¯s surprise, the brutish tactic worked.

    Startled criminals coughed awkwardly and averted their gazes.

    Though not all the stares disappeared, they at least became less overt.

    ¡°Nicely done. Let¡¯s move before we attract more attention.¡±

    Walking deeper into the ck market, Oscar scanned the stalls lined with goods¡ªherbs, potions, materials, weapons, books.

    Despite the variety, he focused on quality.

    ¡®Most of this stuff is junk, probably stolen goods.¡¯

    Items sold in ck markets were usually looted, stolen, or excavated illegally.

    Naturally, their condition was far inferior to the meticulously preserved items found in auction houses.

    "Oscar, is there a particr reason you insist on buying from the ck market?"

    "There is. Compared to their value, the prices are cheap."

    For sellers, holding onto stolen goods for too long was a liability.

    If the original owner showed up, it would inevitably cause trouble.

    "I see. Do you have anything specific in mind?"

    "Equipment that can aid inbat."

    Oscar had already decided in his mind to prioritize enhancing hisbat strength over purchasing herbs.

    Since losing Trinity, hisbat power had undeniably declined.

    ¡®But I can''t just pick up anything randomly.¡¯

    What he was after was equipment worthy of being called a masterpiece.

    Some people said that skilled individuals didn''t me their tools, but Oscar thought those people knew nothing.

    ¡®True craftsmen are the pickiest about their tools.¡¯

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    So-called masterpieces were tools that could push their users beyond their limits.

    If that weren¡¯t the case, the term ¡°masterpiece¡± wouldn¡¯t even exist.

    "Hm?"

    Oscar stopped in front of a shabby stall.

    His gaze was fixed on a bracelet sitting atop a tilted disy stand, the alignment so off it seemed ready to copse.

    It was an ordinary-looking bracelet, devoid of any magical aura, something you could find anywhere.

    And yet, it stood out amidst the other magical items.

    "Ho, young man, you¡¯ve got a keen eye."

    A middle-aged man, arms crossed, spoke from where he was seated.

    "It may look like this, but it¡¯s an artifact discovered in an ancient dungeon. It¡¯s so difficult to handle that it hasn¡¯t been sold yet, but if we¡¯re talking value, this is by far the best item I¡¯ve got."

    "...An artifact, you say?"

    Usually, when sellers made such ims, it was a scam 99.99% of the time.

    Even Trinity, which Oscar had found quite useful, was just a modified weapon; it was nothingpared to genuine artifacts discovered in dungeons.

    Yet, something about this bracelet gave him a feeling¡ªan inexplicable sense of destiny.

    "What enchantments does it have?"

    "As far as I know, ¡ºSize Adjustment¡», ¡ºEnhanced Durability¡», and ¡ºSummon Clone¡»"

    The setup wasn¡¯t bad.

    Especially the¡ºSummon Clone¡»which was a mid-level illusion magic often associated with the Purple Tower.

    "But just those enchantments qualify it as an artifact?"

    Oscar tilted his head in skepticism and asked.

    "Can I try it out?"

    "Ahem. Artifacts are more delicate than they seem, and mishandling them could break them..."

    Oscar pulled out a pouch and handed over 10,000 bel.

    "This should be enough to cover a trial."

    "...Just once. But if it breaks, you¡¯ll have to buy it."

    With the merchant¡¯s stern warning, Oscar nodded and put the bracelet on his left wrist.

    Though it seemed a bitrge, it adjusted to fit his wrist perfectly, bringing a slight smile to his face.

    But as soon as he infused it with mana, 30% of his total mana was drained in an instant.

    ¡®Are you kidding me?¡¯

    Was this how much mana it took just to summon a duplicate?

    His mana pool was on par with high-level fifth-tier mages, so the amount drained was ridiculous.

    Most would have tossed the bracelet aside in frustration, but the results were too intriguing to ignore.

    "Whoa!"

    Even the merchant was shocked.

    Another figure identical to Oscar had appeared right in front of them.

    Oscar''s eyes deepened.

    ¡®This is ''summoning a duplicate''? No way.¡¯

    While he wasn¡¯t an expert in illusion magic, he prided himself on his sharp eye.

    Based on what he saw, this magic was far more extraordinary than the description implied.

    ¡®It might even be an advanced-level spell from the Purple Tower.¡¯

    Unaware of this, the merchant scrutinized the duplicate in amazement.

    "So far, quite a few mages have tested this thing, but you¡¯re the first to create such a refined duplicate. Others have all conjured humanoid blobs of y."

    "Looks like the bracelet has finally found its proper owner."

    The merchant narrowed his eyes at this remark.

    "Well, that depends on how much money you¡¯ve got."

    Not easily swayed, huh?

    Just then, the duplicate dispersed into smoke.

    Seeing this, Oscar spoke swiftly.

    "Ah, but the duration is way too short."

    "Even so, it¡¯s still an amazing artifact. I¡¯ll let it go for a special price¡ª2.5 million bel."

    "Hmm."

    Feigning hesitation, Oscar had already decided to buy it.

    As the merchant said, this could very well save his life depending on how he used it.

    "That¡¯s too expensive. I doubt anyone but me could use it properly anyway."

    "That¡¯s none of my concern. I¡¯ll sell it to whoever pays the most, even if they don¡¯t know how to use it."

    "And that¡¯s why you haven¡¯t sold it until now, isn¡¯t it?"

    Oscar asked in a casual tone.

    "Let¡¯s be honest here. How long has this been unsold?"

    "...Only half a year."

    The air subtly shifted.

    "That¡¯s a lie. Let¡¯s see... Has it been over a year? Oh, wait¡ªmore than that? Two years, perhaps? Hold on... could it be three years?"

    At the mention of three years, the air around the merchant quivered in a distinctly different manner.

    Oscar muttered incredulously.

    "Seriously, are you trying to sell a piece of inventory that¡¯s been sitting unsold for three years for 2.5 million bel?"

    "...It¡¯s still an artifact, isn¡¯t it?"

    Sullenly retorting, the merchant reached for the money pouch Oscar handed him.

    "1.8 million bel. I doubt anyone else will offer you this much for it even in another three years."

    "Tch, this thing¡¯s worth every bit of 2.5 million bel."

    "Not likely. Besides, there¡¯s no proof it was even discovered in an ancient dungeon, is there?"

    "Well, no, but..."

    The merchant hesitated, but when he saw the thick pouch of cash, he snatched it with a sigh.

    "Fine, take it before I change my mind."

    "Thank you."

    Oscar smiled brightly.

    If the bracelet¡¯s appearance had been more refined, if the enchantments turned out to be beyond¡ºSummoning Clone¡»and if there had been authentic certification of its dungeon origin, it would¡¯ve fetched at least ten times the price at an auction.

    "Well, that¡¯s why it ended up in the ck market to begin with."

    Feeling satisfied, Oscar turned around.

    "Kilian, let¡¯s head back."

    Kilian, who had been yawning the entire time as if bored, nodded.

    Just as they turned to retrace their steps¡ª

    "Hey, hold it right there."

    Two men they¡¯d never seen before stopped them.

    Therger of the two, scanning them with a condescending gaze, asked:

    "You two, mages?"

    What kind of manners were these?

    About to retort, Oscar caught sight of the badges pinned to their chests, worn like trophies.

    Golden badges shaped like lightning bolts.

    "......"

    These guys were mages from the Yellow Tower.

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 Chapter 53

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    Chapter 53: Mage Hunter (3)

    In the heart of the ck market''s bustling streets, an unusual standoff was taking ce. Oscar, having guessed their identities, spoke up.

    "What business does a mage from the Yellow Tower have with us?"

    "...Hah, even after figuring out who we are, that''s the tone you choose?"

    The burly mage scowled, but thenky one beside him quickly intervened.

    "Hey, how about we don¡¯t pick a fight right off the bat? You¡¯ll scare them."

    He gave a polite bow and introduced himself.

    "Greetings. I am Bern Rodri, a Level 4 mage of the Yellow Tower. Now, you too."

    "Why should I bother with these lowlifes...?"

    "It¡¯s the mission, remember? Do it."

    "Tch. Jonathan Pelt, Level 4 mage of the Yellow Tower."

    Oscar discreetly checked the air around them.

    ¡®Hmm, no lies...¡¯

    The still air didn¡¯t even stir.

    ¡®Seems legit.¡¯

    Still, it was too soon to be certain.

    This technique only worked on amateurs who couldn¡¯t control their emotions.

    The two before him were clearly pros.

    ¡®At the very least, they¡¯ve got their emotions in check.¡¯

    Given their introductions, it wouldn¡¯t do to remain silent.

    Oscar nodded slightly and introduced himself.

    "Oscar Crucian, Level 3 mage of the White Tower."

    "Killian Lockwood, Level 4 mage of the White Tower."

    "Wait, Killian Lockwood... you mean the saint of the White Tower?"

    Bern¡¯s eyes widened in surprise.

    Killian tilted his headzily.

    "Perfect! The reason we stopped you is that we need your cooperation."

    "...Cooperation?"

    "Yes. You¡¯ve likely heard rumors about the Mage Hunter roaming the northern regions recently."

    Oscar and Killian exchanged a quiet nod.

    It was the very reason Maxime had called them earlier this evening.

    "Thest traces of the Hunter were found here, in Baran. We''re coborating with the local mages to track them down. Should any of us fall victim, we¡¯ll immediately pursue the trail to catch the culprit. We¡¯d like you to help."

    "And what exactly does this cooperation entail?"

    Killian asked.

    At least he could hold a basic conversation with others.

    "It¡¯s a simple request."

    Bern pulled out a business card from his pocket and handed it to Killian.

    "Please take this."

    "And this is...?"

    "A magically enchanted card. It¡¯s a pair, linked to the one I¡¯m holding. Would you channel your mana into it for a moment?"

    As Killian channeled his mana, a magical thread connected the two cards.

    Bern nodded in satisfaction and continued.

    "By infusing mana, a thread forms that can track your position within a 10 km radius. If the cardholder dies, the card turns red, which allows us to follow the trail."

    "Hmm."

    It was certainly efficient.

    Whatever else, their determination to catch the Mage Hunter was clear.

    ¡®Come to think of it, even Red Tower and Yellow Tower mages recently fell victim to that guy.¡¯

    It seemed these two had been tasked by the Yellow Tower to deal with the Hunter.

    Bern pocketed the card and spoke again.

    "I¡¯ll check your location every two hours. Once you safely reach Sirin, simply tear the card in half, and we¡¯ll be notified."

    "Understood. Should we check your location every two hours as well?"

    The burly mage, Jonathan, scoffed.

    "What a joke. Do you think we¡¯d fall to some nobody?"

    "Well, Jonathan¡¯s words are harsh but not wrong. There¡¯s no chance we¡¯ll be defeated."

    Their confidence was palpable. n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    Observing them briefly, Killian gave a half-hearted nod as if losing interest.

    "Understood."

    Killian then handed the card back to him, likely finding it bothersome to keep.

    Bern quickly intervened.

    "Ah, since Killian¡¯s mana is already registered, the card won¡¯t work if you¡¯re not holding it."

    "Looks like you¡¯re stuck with it, Killian."

    "...Fine."

    With that, Killian slipped the card into his pocket.

    Bern¡¯s face lit up with relief.

    "Thank you for your understanding! Please, both of you, travel safely."

    Once the two left, Oscar murmured,

    "Let¡¯s go."

    * * *

    The dark, quiet mountain path back to Sirin echoed only with the ttering of hooves.

    Without enough money for a taxi, they had settled for a carriage¡ªa slower and lessfortable option, but one that carried its own charm.

    As Killian sat beside him, gazing out into the darkndscape, he suddenly spoke.

    "...There was no warrior more suited to inheriting the King¡¯s Mark than her."

    Oscar immediately realized he was talking about Kaya Lockwood.

    "I¡¯ve thought about it hundreds, thousands of times. Why did she do it? With time, the Mark would have passed to her naturally. Why break into the temple and steal it, even going so far as to betray the tribe?"

    Oscar kept his eyes and mouth closed, listening silently.

    Killian likely wasn¡¯t looking for a response, just a chance to vent.

    "At first, I thought she must¡¯ve had apelling reason. The Kaya I knew¡ªspiteful, sure, even finding joy in tormenting others¡ªbut she understood what it meant to be a warrior."

    Through those few words, Oscar could piece together what had happened in the forest tribe.

    "But to think she used that great power tomit crimes... It¡¯s unforgivable."

    "Was there no sign of unrest in the tribe before she stole the King¡¯s Mark?"

    "None. It was peaceful, even idyllic in hindsight."

    "Hmm."

    Then why?

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    Oscar couldn¡¯t easily guess her motives based on the information so far.

    ¡®Perhaps there was no reason at all.¡¯

    Some people were simply born with malice.

    But epting that Radan¡¯s daughter is one of them¡­ that¡¯s hard to swallow.

    Oscar nced at him and said,

    ¡°Don¡¯t think about it too much. In time, the truth will reveal itself. Until then, just focus on what you can do.¡±

    ¡°¡­What I can do, huh. That makes sense.¡±

    With a curious expression, Killian finally turned to face him and asked,

    ¡°But why didn¡¯t you ask? Why I¡¯m so bent on catching her, or why she¡¯s active in the Violet Brigade? You must¡¯ve been curious.¡±

    ¡°I figured you¡¯d tell me when the time was right. And if it wasn¡¯t the right time, you wouldn¡¯t answer anyway.¡±

    ¡°¡­Fair enough.¡±

    Killian, as if appreciating Oscar¡¯s insight, gave a gentle smile.

    ¡°You remind me of the elders in my tribe.¡±

    ¡°?¡±

    Wait, is he implying he seemed old?

    That can¡¯t be right.

    He was as youthful as anyone these days.

    Before Oscar could ask, Killian began nodding off.

    ¡°¡­Unbelievable.¡±

    He¡¯s a lot like his father.

    He was as simple-minded as his father.

    Oscar chuckled softly and nced at the bracelet on his left wrist.

    ¡®Got myself a decent artifact for a good price.¡¯

    Imbuing magic permanently into an object is no small feat.

    It has to be designed so that even those who can¡¯t wield the magic themselves can use it easily.

    ¡®And this isn¡¯t just a magic tool; it¡¯s an artifact.¡¯

    While both have magic engraved into them, the difference lies in quality.

    Artifacts, typically found in dungeons, are far superior to magic tools.

    These are relics from a forgotten era¡ªwhat¡¯s now referred to as the age of the Ancient Civilization.

    ¡®What¡¯s more, the magic on this bracelet¡­ even I don¡¯t fully understand it.¡¯

    Illusion magic, a discipline studied in the Purple Tower, requires both meticulous control and vivid imagination.

    In other words, even as an artifact, only those with the right talent could wield it effectively.

    If the artifact had a different type of magic, it wouldn¡¯t havested three weeks on the market, let alone three years.

    ¡®On the other hand, someone like me can push its potential to the limit.¡¯

    Overflowing with talent, after all.

    Oscar eyed the bracelet like a child with a new toy.

    ¡®Let¡¯s see what it can do.¡¯

    As he channeled magic into it, 30% of his mana instantly drained.

    He looked at the small figure of himself that appeared across the seat and stroked his chin.

    ¡®So, the default illusion is fixed as a doppelg?nger?¡¯

    Focusing his mind, he tried to reshape the figure before him, imagining it as someone else.

    ¡®Trinity. Yes, let¡¯s make it look like Trinity.¡¯

    Despite his efforts, he couldn¡¯t fully transform it.

    However, the doppelg?nger¡¯s left arm morphed into something resembling a gun.

    So, partial transformation seemed possible.

    ¡®Seems like a matter of practice and skill. It¡¯ll get better over time.¡¯

    Eventually, he¡¯d be able to summon smaller illusions with less mana.

    In terms of mana efficiency and versatility, that would be far superior.

    ¡®Can I control its movements?¡¯

    He imagined the doppelg?nger moving.

    The illusion mirrored him, elegantly crossing its legs and gazing out the window with a pensive air.

    ¡®It works.¡¯

    But it consumed mana at an rming rate.

    Maintaining such smooth movements cost an additional 1% of his mana per second.

    ¡®If I summon and animate an illusion for just 10 seconds¡­¡¯

    It would consume a staggering 40% of his total mana.

    Clicking his tongue, Oscar cut off the mana supply, and the illusion dissipated exactly 10 secondster.

    ¡®Ten seconds on residual mana. A bit short, but not too bad.¡¯

    In battle, ten seconds can be an eternity.

    Judging by the realism and fluidity, it was definitely crafted by a high-ranking mage.

    ¡®The im that it came from an ancient dungeon doesn¡¯t seem like a lie.¡¯

    Satisfied, Oscar conducted several more experiments.

    Just as he was about to rest, a thin strand of mana zipped through the air and into Killian¡¯s pocket.

    ¡°Hm?¡±

    Killian, suddenly alert, pulled out a card from his pocket.

    Bzzzzz.

    ¡°Ah, they¡¯re checking if we¡¯re still alive.¡±

    ¡°But didn¡¯t they say they¡¯d check every two hours?¡±

    It had been at least six hours without a word.

    As an uneasy feeling crept in, the coachman raised his torch and shouted.

    ¡°Hey up ahead! Whoever you are, step aside! Move!¡±

    Oscar leaned out the window, spotting a figure staggering toward them.

    ¡°Coachman, stop for a moment.¡±

    ¡°Oscar, that person¡­¡±

    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s that guy¡ªVern Rodri or whatever his name is.¡±

    The man from the ck market who had handed out his card.

    But something was off.

    His robe was filthy and torn, as if he¡¯d been rolling in the dirt, revealing cuts and bruises.

    His wrists and ankles bore the remains of broken shackles.

    ¡°What happened to you?¡±

    Oscar stepped out of the carriage and approached.

    The man looked up, his voice trembling.

    ¡°Help¡­ Please help. Jonathan¡¯s been kidnapped.¡±

    ¡°Kidnapped? Who on earth would dare¡ª? Wait, don¡¯t tell me¡­¡±

    At that, Bern¡¯s tears flowed freely.

    Then, he uttered a name that sent chills down Oscar¡¯s spine.

    ¡°¡­The Mage Hunter.¡±

    Bern¡¯s shoulders shook as he sobbed.

    ¡°Jonathan is in that monster¡¯s hands right now.¡±

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 Chapter 54

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    Chapter 54: Mage Hunter (4)

    Mage Hunter.

    At the mention of the name, Oscar narrowed his eyes and asked,

    ¡°I heard he only targets lone mages?¡±

    ¡°¡­We thought so too. Even the Tower¡¯s notice said that mages traveling in the northern region should always move in pairs, and that would keep them safe.¡±

    But the rule the Mage Hunter had set for himself was broken this time.

    It was likely due to his inted confidence.

    He wouldn¡¯t have taken the risk unless he believed he could handle two mages at once.

    ¡°Exin the situation in detail.¡±

    ¡°After we parted ways with you, we took a cab. Along the way, the driver said someone wasing up ahead. We had a bad feeling, so we asked him to stop and got out of the car.¡±

    Bern¡¯s face turned pale as he recalled the moment.

    ¡°The man closed the distance in the blink of an eye and swung his sword without a word. He didn¡¯t ask us anything.¡±

    ¡°What did he look like?¡±

    ¡°He was taller than Jonathan. He looked down at me with sunken eyes¡ªlike a monster.¡±

    ¡°How was his swordsmanship? What did you think?¡±

    ¡°It was exceptional, beyond words.¡±

    Then the oue was obvious.

    ¡°¡­Jonathan managed to pierce the man¡¯s heart with a lightning spear, but the guy didn¡¯t die. Instead, he cut off Jonathan¡¯s left arm. When Jonathan passed out, it was my turn.¡±

    When they woke up, they found themselves in the basement of an unfamiliar cabin.

    Bern trembled as he recalled that moment.

    ¡°It was unbearably cold. The only source of warmth was a red-hot branding iron. You may have heard the rumors, but that man tortures mages mercilessly before killing them. That was probably going to be our fate as well.¡±

    ¡°How did you escape from such a ce?¡±

    ¡°The Mage Hunter wasn¡¯t in great condition either. When he came to torture us, he was sweating profusely and gasping for breath before he left. Jonathan quickly bit the handle of the branding iron and used it to melt the magic cuffs binding my arms and legs.¡±

    nk, nk.

    Bern disyed the marks left on his wrists.

    ¡°When I tried to free Jonathan¡¯s cuffs next, we heard the hunter returning. He told me to run, to get reinforcements ande back to save him. I¡­ I ran without looking back.¡±

    Bern buried his trembling hands over his face, his expression filled with indescribable emotion.

    ¡°Please, please save Jonathan. I swear, the Mage Hunter isn¡¯t in good shape either.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Having heard the full story, Killian turned to Oscar, his eyes silently asking what to do.

    Oscar nced at the air around Bern, noting again that it remainedpletely still, then spoke.

    ¡°Lead us to the cabin.¡±

    * * *

    The abandoned cabin on the mountainside showed no sign of life, no light spilling from its windows.

    Watching from behind a boulder, Killian remarked,

    ¡°I can¡¯t sense any presence. They might have already left.¡±

    ¡°Ah¡­¡±

    Just as Bern bit his lip, his face etched with despair¡ª

    -Aaaaaaah!

    A piercing scream echoed from inside the cabin.

    Bern¡¯s face lit up.

    ¡°Th-that¡¯s Jonathan¡¯s voice!¡±

    ¡°Are you sure?¡±

    ¡°Yes! I¡¯m certain!¡±

    ¡°¡­So he¡¯s alive, at least.¡±

    Oscar and Killian exchanged a nce before silently approaching the cabin¡¯s outer wall.

    Though terrified, Bern resolutely followed behind them.

    ¡°Oscar, do you have a good n?¡±

    ¡°First, we go inside, meet the bastard, and beat him to a pulp.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    After a moment of thought, Killian nodded.

    ¡°That¡¯s a solid n.¡±

    ¡°¡­Excuse me?¡±

    Bern looked incredulous, but before he could say more, the two kicked open the door and charged inside.

    ¡°W-wait a second!¡±

    Bern¡¯s voice trailed off as they reached the basement where the scream hade from.

    Just as Bern described, the basement was frigid, with a lone red-hot branding iron radiating heat.

    A man sat slumped in a chair, his head hanging low.

    ¡°¡­He¡¯s dead.¡±

    The man¡¯s body bore the marks of brutal torture, but he was wearing a driver¡¯s uniform.

    It wasn¡¯t Jonathan.

    As Killian frowned, Bern btedly descended into the basement.

    ¡°Huff¡­ Huff¡­ You can¡¯t just charge in like that! Why do you run so fast?¡±

    Killian turned to him, eyes narrowing.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t mention a driver was captured with you.¡±

    ¡°Oh, well¡­ people forget things when they¡¯re talking, don¡¯t they?¡±

    The once-timid Bern now spoke with a hint of confidence.

    Killian¡¯s gaze turned cold.

    ¡°It was a trap. You deceived us.¡±

    ¡°Hey now, that¡¯s a bit harsh. Let¡¯s call it¡­ an invitation.¡±

    Thud!

    The heavy basement door mmed shut as a figure, holding a torch, descended the stairs.

    It was Jonathan¡ªhis supposedly severed arm perfectly intact.

    ¡°¡­This is ridiculous.¡±

    Killian let out a hollowugh, tilting his head slightly.

    His displeasure at their goodwill being exploited was evident.

    ¡°Did you think dragging us here would give you a chance to win?¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡±

    Jonathan said with a smirk.

    ¡°It¡¯s worked every time so far. Though this is the first time I¡¯ve invited two guests.¡±

    The two of them grinned.

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    What confidence, from mere fourth-level mages.

    Oscar, arms crossed and watching calmly, warned,

    ¡°Be careful. They seem to have something up their sleeve.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡±

    Killian replied, his crimson eyes zing like fire.

    ¡°I¡¯m not so poorly trained that I¡¯d lose to small fry like them.¡±

    With those words, Killian activated his ¡ºeleration¡» tattoos twice in quick session.

    The basement air quivered, and Jonathan and Bern''s expressions shifted.

    ¡°¡­Truly the Saint of the White Tower. The aura alone is overwhelming.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t this better? Imagine how much mana we could steal and learn if we tortured him.¡±

    As their disgusting conversation revealed the true purpose of the ¡°Mage Hunters,¡± a sharp tearing sound split the air.

    In an instant, Killian shot across the room like a bolt of lightning.

    ¡°Whoa¡ª! Holy¡­ whew, that was insane.¡±

    Jonathan clutched his chest, startled by the fist that stopped mere inches from his face.

    ¡°Unbelievable speed. I was this close to dying.¡±

    ¡°Good thing we prepped beforehand.¡±

    ¡°¡­Killian?¡±

    Oscar called out to Killian, who stood with his back turned.

    But there was no response. n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om

    Frozen like a statue, Killian trembled all over.

    ¡°Heh.¡±

    Jonathan, satisfied, tapped Killian¡¯s cheek lightly with his left hand, grinning.

    ¡°Curious, aren¡¯t you? Why your friend is like this.¡±

    ¡°¡­Hmm.¡±

    There was no need to listen to an enemy¡¯s words.

    It could be a trap, or at best, only a partial truth.

    Oscar sifted through recent events, piecing together any details that might exin the situation.

    ¡°Your business card.¡±

    ¡°Ha! This is incredible, really.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the first to figure it out so quickly. Most don¡¯t even realize after they¡¯ve fallen for it.¡±

    Jonathan and Bern looked genuinely impressed.

    Finally, it all started to make sense.

    ¡°¡­The scheme began when you distributed those at the ck market. You¡¯re clearly not mages of the Yellow Tower.¡±

    ¡°Of course not. The robes and badges we¡¯re wearing? They belonged to mages we¡¯ve hunted down.¡±

    ¡°Handing out the cards was part of your process to identify easy prey.¡±

    From the start, they¡¯d only targeted mages they deemed manageable.

    The magic on those business cards likely included tracking and paralysis spells.

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Killian¡¯s body continued to tremble.

    From this angle, his face couldn¡¯t be seen, but Oscar was certain¡ªKillian was seething with frustration, barely holding back.

    His already red eyes were surely bloodshot.

    ¡°¡­I didn¡¯t anticipate the business card angle. That was my mistake.¡±

    Oscar¡¯s suspicions had first been piqued when Bern tearfully exined the situation earlier.

    The surrounding air was unnaturally still.

    ¡®When arade is taken, it¡¯s normal for feelings of grief or anger to slip through.¡¯

    But even as Bern wept, his emotions remained tightly controlled.

    Suchposure in that situation was impossible unless it was all an act.

    ¡°I¡¯ll have to be more careful next time.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    Bern tilted his head at Oscar¡¯s muttering.

    ¡°Next time? You really think you¡¯ll get another chance? That¡¯s a bit ambitious.¡±

    ¡°Let him dream. Without a sliver of hope, he¡¯d probably crumble under this situation.¡±

    ¡°True, there¡¯s that.¡±

    Bern licked his lips and stepped forward, speaking in a light, casual tone.

    ¡°Gotta admit, my heart¡¯s racing a little. We¡¯ve never hunted a mage from the White Tower before. Always been curious, right?¡±

    ¡°Yep. Sure, the White Tower is still technically one of the Four Great Towers, but their performance is deadst. We even made bets on how pathetic their mages would be.¡±

    With a snap of his fingers, a me hovered above Bern¡¯s index finger¡ª¡ºFireball¡», an intermediate spell of the Red Tower.

    ¡°I bet he wouldn¡¯tst through three of my attacks, while Jonathan thought he might endure five. Well¡­ time to see who wins.¡±

    Bern flicked his finger, sending the fireball hurtling toward Oscar.

    The zing orb engulfed the mage, swallowing him whole.

    Kwoooom! Fwoooosh!

    ¡°What? He just froze in ce and didn¡¯t even try to dodge?¡±

    Bern blinked at the scene, stunned.

    He reached out a hand toward Jonathan.

    ¡°I win. Pay up.¡±

    ¡°¡­Didn¡¯t expect him to be this weak.¡±

    Jonathan clicked his tongue, digging into his pocket, but then narrowed his eyes.

    ¡°Wait a minute¡ªwhy is it so quiet?¡±

    Being consumed by mes is often described as one of the most excruciating experiences imaginable.

    Yet, there wasn¡¯t even a faint groaning from the engulfed mage.

    ¡®Huh? Now that you mention it¡­¡¯

    Bern turned his head, sensing something amiss.

    Within the inferno, a shadowy figure murmured in a low voice.

    ¡°¡­Red Tower mages live with fire from the moment they open their eyes to the moment they fall asleep. They endlessly repeat that cycle, trying to bond with the mes until they reach Level 4.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t the strained tone of someone suppressing pain, but a calm, almost detached voice.

    ¡°There¡¯s only one reason they go through such grueling effort.¡±

    Whirl!

    The massive mes surrounding Oscar swirled violently before gathering neatly into his palm.

    His body waspletely unscathed when he reappeared¡ªnot a single burn or scorch mark on his clothes or hair.

    ¡°To prevent their mes from being stolen by someone like me, a harmony mage of the White Tower.¡±

    His piercing blue eyes red at the two with arrogant disdain.

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 Chapter 55

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    Chapter 55: Mage Hunter (5)

    Whoosh!

    Bern couldn¡¯t tear his eyes away from the me flickering on his opponent¡¯s palm.

    It was no wonder¡ªbecause that me was his own.

    ¡°...You stole my me?¡±

    ¡°Bern, what¡¯s going on?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know! Just be quiet for a second!¡±

    Snapping at hispanion out of frustration, Bern poured all his mana into reiming his me.

    But despite hismand, the me¡ªonce obedient¡ªremained utterly still, as if it had turned to stone.

    Only after struggling for some time did he finally acknowledge the truth: the me, stolen by this stranger, no longer recognized him as its master.

    In that moment, Bern¡¯s eyes filled with murderous intent.

    ¡°You insolent wretch! You dare steal my me?!¡±

    The opponent, unperturbed by the killing intent of a Level 4 mage, let out a chuckle.

    ¡°You probably stole that me from someone else in the first ce. Aren¡¯t we even now?¡±

    ¡°Calm down, Bern. Don¡¯t let such a cheap provocation get to you.¡±

    Jonathan managed to restrain his furiouspanion and coolly assessed their adversary.

    ¡®It¡¯s clear now. We¡¯ve made a mistake.¡¯

    They had underestimated the White Tower¡¯s mages.

    There was no talk of their dabbling in wind magic, which exined theircency.

    The White Tower mages rarely engaged with the outside world, except for delivering supplies.

    ¡®But the situation still favors us.¡¯

    Jonathan tapped Killian¡¯s cheek lightly, shifting the tension in the air.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get any ideas. Remember, your friend is our hostage.¡±

    ¡°Hmph.¡±

    Whoosh!

    The me on Oscar¡¯s palm suddenly dispersed, setting the walls of the underground room aze.

    The once-dark basement now zed with daylight.

    Oscar spoke, his tone calm and unyielding.

    ¡°Kill him.¡±

    ¡°...What?¡±

    ¡°I said, just kill him.¡±

    ¡°You insane bastard! Trying to act tough?¡±

    Bern snarled, pulling a dagger from his coat and pressing it against Killian¡¯s throat.

    Drip.

    Blood trickled down from a shallow cut, the de¡¯s edge sharp.

    ¡°How about now? Still think I¡¯m joking? Want me to really kill your friend?¡±

    ¡°Go ahead.¡±

    But Oscar¡¯s unyielding stance left both men momentarily flustered.

    His eyes showed not a hint of fear.

    With a cold gaze, he continued.

    ¡°You can¡¯t do it, can you? Unlike me, that guy knows all the intermediate magic of the White Tower.¡±

    ¡°...You idiot. White Tower mages are receable.¡±

    ¡°If you really believe that, then kill him. But you won¡¯t find another mage of the White Tower so easily.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    Seeing their hesitation, Oscar smirked.

    ¡°You picked the wrong hostage. Even if I were to save him, do you think he¡¯d be grateful? That kind of sentiment doesn¡¯t exist where theye from.¡±

    Oscar knew the forest ns too well.

    They valued honor above all, and madness often apanied their devotion.

    He spoke softly.

    ¡°Killian, even if you die, rest easy. I¡¯ll make sure to avenge you.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    Killian¡¯s body trembled, not out of fear, but something else.

    Jonathan, rmed, nced at his face and froze.

    ¡®What the...? He¡¯s...smiling?¡¯

    Despite his trembling, the corners of Killian¡¯s lips curled up.

    That maniacal smile sent a chill down Jonathan¡¯s spine.

    ¡®He¡¯s not afraid of death?¡¯

    Even hardened mercenaries and soldiers struggled to face death with suchposure.

    Yet this young man stood unmoved.

    ¡®To embrace death so willingly...he¡¯s insane.¡¯

    To the forest ns, however, this was natural.

    For them, a warrior¡¯s death was the highest honor, granting them entry to their sacred afterlife.

    ¡°Damn it, what kind of lunatics are these?!¡±

    ¡°Forget the hostage. Kill him, then torture the Saint.¡±

    With their decision made, they left Killian and advanced toward Oscar.

    Watching them approach, Oscar suppressed a triumphant grin.

    ¡®Good. Killian¡¯s safety is ensured for now...¡¯

    It was time to throw them into chaos.

    ¡ºWater¡»

    A simple water spell gushed forth, sshing across the heated basement floor.

    Hiss! Sizzle!

    Steam rapidly filled the room, turning it into a dense, sauna-like fog.

    ¡°Damn it! What a cheap trick! Jonathan, attack! Just fire everything!¡±

    ¡°Already on it!¡±

    Bern and Jonathan unleashed a barrage of spells toward where Oscar had been.

    He rolled to the side, analyzing the iing magic.

    ¡®Lightning, this time.¡¯

    The fear of having their mes stolen had led them to employ the Yellow Tower¡¯s ¡ºLightning¡»..

    Crackle! Zap! Zap!

    The barrage continued, lightning bolts striking like machine-gun fire, until suddenly:

    ¡°Arghhh!¡±

    A scream of pain echoed through the basement, silencing their assault.

    ¡°...Did we get him?¡±

    ¡°Wait a moment.¡±

    Jonathan closed his eyes, his mana scanning the area.

    Even in the dense fog, mana signatures couldn¡¯t hide.

    Eventually, he pinpointed Oscar¡¯s location and nodded.

    ¡°Yeah. He¡¯s lying there.¡±

    ¡°...Let¡¯s confirm the body.¡±

    Swallowing nervously, they approached the spot.

    They found a charred, lifeless body¡ªOscar.

    ¡°Is he really dead?¡±

    ¡°The residual mana signature matches. Let¡¯s finish him off, just in case.¡±

    Jonathan fired another lightning strike.

    Yet, the body disintegrated into smoke upon impact.

    ¡®A doppelg?nger spell from the Purple Tower?! We¡¯ve been duped!¡¯

    ¡®That means he erased his real mana signature? At Level 3?!¡¯

    Their skills paled inparison.

    Realizing their peril, they froze.

    Slice!n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om

    From Jonathan¡¯s right, a chilling sound reached him.

    ¡°Bern? Bern?!¡±

    No response came.

    Jonathan didn¡¯t look back.

    Instead, he bolted toward the staircase.

    ¡®The fog? No problem.¡¯

    This basement had seen countless victims.

    Even in darkness, Jonathan could navigate it effortlessly.

    ¡®Forget the mes. I need to escape.¡¯

    If he could lock the door behind him, Oscar would wither away inside.

    Reaching the top of the stairs, Jonathan grasped the door handle.

    ¡ºSteam Burst.¡»

    BOOM!

    A massive explosion sent Jonathan flying down the stairs.

    Pain wracked his body; his world spun.

    ¡®Broken ribs...¡¯

    Despite the agony, he conjured a final spell.

    ¡°Lightning Spear!¡±

    The Yellow Tower¡¯s swiftest spell surged forward¡ª

    But silence followed.

    Crackle! Crackle-crash!

    The magic, fixed in midair, screamed continuously, as if to warn of its own danger.

    ¡°How crude.¡±

    From the opposite wall came Oscar¡¯s sharp critique.

    Jonathan, suspecting it might again be a doppelg?nger, refrained from casting magic and instead red in that direction.

    Step, step.

    As soon as he saw Oscar emerge from beyond the steam, raising his mana¡ª

    ¡°Die!¡±

    Crackle-crash!

    A Lightning Spear tore through the air.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ quite different from the Lightning Spear I know.¡±

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    Dogs that bite don¡¯t bark, and ripe grains bow their heads.

    A true Lightning Spear cast by a mage of the Yellow Tower doesn¡¯t scream so loudly.

    It silently pierces through, ending a life without fanfare.

    ¡°And it¡¯s far too slow.¡±

    ¡ºFusion Magic: Steam Cutter.¡»

    All the steam in the basement converged before him, transforming into razor-sharp des.

    Shhhhhh!

    These began to spin rapidly, slicing through the oing ¡ºLightning Spear¡» like pudding.

    ¡°Impossible! The Lightning Spear is clearly a mid-level spell¡­!¡±

    ¡°No matter how many spells you steal from renowned towers, you can¡¯t steal their essence.¡±

    As Jonathan confirmed the cold gleam in Oscar¡¯s eyes, he raised both hands in surrender.

    ¡°W-wait! I surrender! I surrender!¡±

    Gulping nervously, Jonathan nced at the corpse of hisrade lying on the basement floor.

    Desperate not to meet the same fate, he tried to bargain with Oscar.

    ¡°We¡¯ve stolen a wide range of spells¡ªfrom the Red Tower, Yellow Tower, even the Blood Tower and the ck Tower. I¡¯ll share them all, just spare my life.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡­¡±

    Taking Oscar¡¯s silence as a positive sign, Jonathan hastily continued.

    ¡°I-I¡¯ve heard the White Towercks a variety of spells. So, if you let me live¡ª¡±

    ¡°Let you take back what you¡¯ve stolen to fill that gap?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m tight-lipped! I won¡¯t tell anyone. Just spare me, please!¡±

    Oscar slowly surveyed the basement before speaking abruptly.

    ¡°Is that what this ce is?¡±

    ¡°¡­What?¡±

    ¡°A kind, merciful ce where requests are granted? It doesn¡¯t look that way.¡±

    Jonathan, fully grasping the implication, cursed with a contorted face.

    ¡°You son of a¡ª!¡±

    Crunch!

    Oscar stomped on his mouth, shattering his front teeth, and growled.

    ¡°If you sin and feel no shame, you¡¯re no human. If youckpassion for the weak, you¡¯re no human. And if you can¡¯t distinguish right from wrong, you¡¯re no human either.¡±

    Snap!

    A me ignited on his flicked finger.

    He tossed the ember toward the now truly fearful Jonathan.

    ¡°By my standards, you¡¯re not human.¡±

    Fwoooosh!

    ¡°Aaaaargh!¡±

    The mes engulfing Jonathan red far more ferociously than when they had consumed Oscar.

    Perhaps the vengeful spirits of the mages from the Red and Yellow Towers, whom these hunters had in, now fueled the ze.

    The basement filled with agonized screams.

    ¡°Aaaaah! Put it out! Put out the fire!¡±

    Jonathan¡¯s already unpleasant voice grew raspier as his vocal cords burned, bing a hoarse, guttural cry.

    Soon, only inhuman shrieks emerged from his mouth.

    ¡°Gyaaahhh!¡±

    Oscar looked down at him momentarily but did nothing to alleviate his suffering.

    Taking Killian, he ascended the stairs, ncing back only to close the iron door.

    Creak, bang!

    As the heavy door mmed shut, Jonathan¡¯s screams were silenced.

    * * *

    In a dimly lit office, amunicator buzzed.

    The room¡¯s owner lifted it slowly to his ear, where a cautious voice spoke.

    [First Finger, I confirm Mark Sweet¡¯s suicide during transport.]

    ¡°¡­And? Do you expect praise?¡±

    The man¡¯s voice was surprisingly soft, almost melodic.

    [No, sir. I just thought it was information you should know.]

    A brief silence followed.

    After some thought, the man spoke.

    ¡°What do you believe was the cause of this failure?¡±

    [The scope exceeded our expectations. We didn¡¯t anticipate involvement from the Royal Family and the Violet Brigade.]

    ¡°Indeed. Like a shrimp caught between fighting whales. But setting the Violet Brigade aside, do you know who brought in the Royal Family?¡±

    [Yes, Oscar Crucian.]

    The man leaned back in his chair, his voice dripping with irony.

    ¡°Curious, isn¡¯t it? I distinctly recall ordering you to eliminate him months ago, and you agreed. Yet here he is, interfering in every incident¡ªCadena Flu, the Heavenly Silkworm, and now this. Must be a ghost.¡±

    [...No excuses, sir.]

    ¡°This incident has dragged us into dealings with the two groups we least wanted to entangle with. Aplete disaster.¡±

    The Royal Family and the Violet Brigade.

    The former was self-exnatory, but thetter was a secretive faction with unclear objectives.

    Both were entities they had long avoided contact with.

    [¡­I apologize.]

    After a moment, the man sighed lightly and continued.

    ¡°The Christmas operation is canceled. They¡¯ve decided to take over.¡±

    [They? You don¡¯t mean¡ª?]

    ¡°Yes, the Nightmare Baron himself will handle it.¡±

    [But if our ties to demons are exposed¡ª]

    ¡°All necessary precautions have been taken.¡±

    The man¡¯s top priority was always security.

    ¡°Consider it a stroke of luck. Your ipetence grants us the chance to witness the Baron¡¯s prowess firsthand.¡±

    [¡­Understood. I will report urately on events in Binz.]

    Themunication ended.

    * * *

    Upon returning to Sirin by carriage, the two made their way straight to the Vice Tower Master¡¯s office to report.

    Vice Tower Master Hamel¡¯s reaction was nothing short of explosive.

    ¡°My goodness! The two of you have aplished something incredible!¡±

    The reason for his reaction quickly became clear.

    ¡°So far, it¡¯s estimated that 14 mages have fallen victim to them. The magic towers have had enough and have dispatched Level 6 mages to the northern region to hunt these mage killers.¡±

    ¡°Level 6? That¡¯s a serious response.¡±

    It was only natural.

    The towers cherished their mages, and any threat to their lives or the security of their spells was intolerable.

    Their deaths were inevitable, sooner orter.

    Killian nodded solemnly.

    ¡°They were despicable, without a shred of a mage¡¯s dignity. Without Oscar, I¡¯d be dead, too.¡±

    ¡°Killian, always be wary of magical tools from strangers.¡±

    ¡°¡­I¡¯ve learned my lesson. No more repeat mistakes.¡±

    Seeing Killian¡¯s somewhat dejected demeanor, the Vice Tower Master turned to Oscar, his eyes gleaming as if beholding a treasure.

    ¡°Congrattions. Thanks to your outstanding performance in Baran, you¡¯ve earned an alias.¡±

    ¡°An alias?¡±

    It was equivalent to a title or nickname in othernds.

    Just as Chief Walker was called ¡°ck de¡± and Killian was known as ¡°Saint.¡±

    ¡®In my previous life, I had dozens of aliases.¡¯

    White mage, Master of the Wind, Perfect Mage, Creator of Commoners, and more.

    He hadn¡¯t expected to earn one so soon in this life.

    Oscar asked with cautious anticipation.

    ¡°So, what¡¯s my alias?¡±

    ¡°Noble Mage.¡±

    Hamel¡¯s lips curled into a soft smile.

    ¡°People say your spellcasting is elegant and refined.¡±

    ¡°¡­The Noble Mage of the White Tower?¡±

    The moment he uttered it, his face flushed.

    How was he supposed to introduce himself with such an embarrassing title?

    He couldn¡¯t help but nce at Killian.

    ¡°I was hoping for something more¡­ imposing. Like his ¡®Holy me of the White Tower.¡¯¡±

    At this, Killian¡¯s sulking expression brightened immediately.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be discouraged. The Noble Mage sounds impressive. Not quite as grand as the Holy me, but still.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡­¡±

    Just as Oscarmented, someone knocked on the door.

    Vice Tower Master Hamel suddenly seemed to remember something.

    ¡°Ah, it¡¯s time for our guest from the Red Tower.¡±

    A guest?

    And from the Red Tower?

    Oscar¡¯s eyes naturally turned to the door.

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 Chapter 56

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    Chapter 56: Training Camp (1)

    "Come in."

    At the permission of the Deputy Tower Master, the man who entered the room stood tall with a rigid posture.

    He was exceptionally tall.

    He appeared to be in histe 30s, but he was probably older than that.

    The depth of his mana was proof enough.

    ''A Level 6 mage of the Red Tower.''

    The reason for his presence here was easy to deduce.

    ''They said the mage towers dispatched Level 6 mages to eliminate the Mage Hunters.''

    This was likely rted to that.

    The Deputy Tower Master greeted him with a gentle smile.

    "Wee. I am Hamel Grimwiz, the Deputy Tower Master of the White Tower."

    "Thank you for responding to this sudden request. I am Karim Fernian, a Level 6 mage of the Red Tower."

    He bowed politely but without servility, briefly ncing at the two people sitting nearby.

    His expression briefly conveyed curiosity about their presence, but upon noticing their youthful faces, he lost interest and averted his gaze.

    "It seems you already had prior engagements."

    "Yes, I was in the middle of an urgent report. But as this matter concerns you as well, please, have a seat."

    Karim, slightly surprised by the implication, sat down and asked,

    "Does this have something to do with the Mage Hunters?"

    "That''s correct. Since you¡¯vee to the White Tower to share information about the Mage Hunters, I should fulfill that purpose."

    The Deputy Tower Master delivered the news concisely.

    "The Mage Hunters are dead."

    "¡­!"

    Karim''s eyes widened slightly at the unexpected news.

    "You mean they''ve already been eliminated?"

    "Yes."

    "Who managed to do that? Was it the Yellow Tower?"

    "The White Tower."

    The Deputy Tower Master smiled and continued,

    "The Mage Hunters were taken down by these two sitting here."

    "¡­Them?"

    Atst, Karim''s gaze returned to the two.

    This time, his eyes carried unmistakable disbelief. n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om

    After a moment''s hesitation, he asked,

    "Frankly, that''s hard to believe. The Mage Hunters even took down Level 5 mages of the Red and Yellow Towers."

    "Ha-ha, I understand your skepticism."

    The Deputy Tower Master nodded and turned to Oscar with a knowing look, signaling him to exin the situation.

    After hearing the detailed ount, Karim murmured,

    "A two-person team... a trap hunt using a magical artifact called a calling card..."

    "Both of them were Level 4 mages, but they weren¡¯t as formidable as rumored."

    "That makes sense. They must have been insects without a tower or a proper family."

    Karim''s indifferent reply revealed his personality.

    ''...A typical elitist.''

    Someone who believed only those born into noble families were destined to excel in magic.

    Incidentally, they hated who Oscar used to be the most.

    ''And for good reason. A back-alley orphan like me rose to be the world''s greatest mage.''

    He wondered if they felt even a shred of gratitude when he died alongside the Great Emperor.

    "And¡­"

    Karim''s gaze finally shifted to us.

    "Who are you?"

    ¡®Finally, he asks.¡¯

    Oscar and Killian introduced themselves in turn.

    "I¡¯m Oscar Crucian, a Level 3 mage of the White Tower."

    "I¡¯m Killian Lockwood, a Level 4 mage of the White Tower."

    Hearing their names, Karim''s eyes widened slightly.

    Both were among the fastest-rising mages across all the towers.

    But Karim was only interested in one of them.

    "I see. So, you¡¯re the current head of the Crucian Count''s family. A pleasure."

    Ignoring Killian entirely, Karim extended his hand to Oscar for a handshake.

    His intent was obvious, but it was best to y along as a guest from another tower.

    "Yes."

    The moment their hands met, mana flowed through the handshake.

    ''Trying to gauge my level?''

    Oscar smirked inwardly.

    ''You''re a hundred years too early for that.''

    Karim¡¯s expression stiffened slightly.

    As a Level 6 mage of the Red Tower, he had met countless mages and prided himself on urately assessing others'' capabilities.

    But this was the first time he¡¯d experienced this.

    ''What is this?''

    He couldn¡¯t read anything.

    It was as though he was staring into an unfathomable abyss.

    ''I can¡¯t measure his level? And he¡¯s only supposed to be a Level 3 mage?''

    As he struggled toprehend this baffling situation, the Deputy Tower Master spoke.

    "You must be tired from the long journey. Feel free to stay the night before heading back."

    "¡­No, thank you."

    Karim shook his head and rose from his seat, his gaze lingering on Oscar until the very end.

    "I¡¯ll rest on the way back."

    "¡­You n to take a taxi from here to the Red Tower?"

    Surely, being a noble and from the Red Tower, he must have the means.

    That taxi is ridiculously expensive even just to get to Baran.

    When Oscar clicked his tongue in curiosity, Karim tilted his head.

    "A taxi? What are you talking about? I meant my private vehicle."

    "Private... vehicle?"

    "High-ranking mages of the Red Tower are provided with personal vehicles and drivers."

    "¡­"

    That¡¯s kind of enviable.

    Doesn¡¯t the White Tower have something simr?

    When Oscar nced at the Deputy Tower Master, he chuckled awkwardly and avoided his gaze.

    "Take care on your way back. I hope we meet next time under better circumstances."

    "Yes. I hope so too."

    "Deputy Tower Master, if you don¡¯t mind, I¡¯d like to escort Karim to the entrance of the tower."

    "Hmm?"

    Hamel, surprised by Oscar¡¯s unexpected offer, looked puzzled.

    "Sure, go ahead."

    The two headed straight for the mana elevator.

    Pleased with the gesture, Karim casually started a conversation.

    "I¡¯ve greeted your father a few times at social gatherings."

    "¡­Is that so?"

    "He always boasted about his son¡¯s talents, and now I see why."

    Karim turned and patted Oscar''s shoulder with a smile.

    "The Red Tower always wees exceptional talent, especially someone as gifted as you."

    "Exceptional talent¡­"

    Oscar met his gaze and smiled.

    "Do you mean someone like Lloyd Schultz?"

    The reason Oscar volunteered to escort him was simple.

    Karim was the first mage of the Red Tower he had encountered since inhabiting young Oscar''s body.

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    It was an invaluable opportunity to gather information about his first disciple.

    "¡­Lloyd Schultz?"

    At the mention of the name, Karim''s expression twisted as though he had just encountered something unpleasant.

    "No, not someone like that. A rootless orphan like him hardly qualifies. Let me rify: I mean someone like you, with a clear lineage and evident talent."

    "But I heard his talents were extraordinary¡ªenough for the Red Tower Master to take him as a disciple."

    "Skill alone isn¡¯t enough to achieve everything. His limitations are evident."

    Oscar could guess what kind of treatment Lloyd received at the Red Tower.

    But this wasn¡¯t enough information.

    "Is Lloyd Schultz doing well?"

    "¡­You seem quite interested in him."

    Karim¡¯s eyes narrowed in displeasure, but Oscar shrugged casually.

    "Don¡¯t you know what he¡¯s called in our tower?"

    "I don¡¯t. What is it?"

    "Bat, traitor, opportunist. Those are some of the names. I was curious if he¡¯s thriving after defecting to your tower, but it seems that¡¯s not the case."

    The man smiled faintly, clearly understanding the schadenfreudeced in the other¡¯s tone.

    ¡°Oh, if that¡¯s what you were hoping for, don¡¯t worry. Even within the Red Tower, he¡¯s an outsider. Proof? He rarely sets foot in the main tower and spends all his time wandering the battlefields.¡±

    ¡°¡­Serves him right.¡±

    Despite the words escaping his lips, his heart felt heavy.

    ¡®What a fool.¡¯

    He should at least be happy if he left the White Tower with such determination.

    The thought of him struggling in a foreign ce, eating scraps under wary gazes, filled him with a pang of frustration.

    ¡°You two seem to get along better than expected. Have you considered transferring to the Red Tower? A promising individual like you, destined to be Count Crucian one day, could find a special ce in my faction.¡±

    ¡°Thank you for the offer, but it¡¯s difficult right now. I have too many unfinished matters to attend to.¡±

    Oscar responded with a polite smile until the end.

    Keeping the connection with a high-ranking mage of the Red Tower could prove useful someday.

    ¡°I see. That¡¯s unfortunate. When you¡¯ve cleared your te, feel free to contact me anytime.¡±

    Karim nodded nonchntly, perhaps already considering Oscar as part of his future.

    Ding!

    As they stepped out of the elevator and left the tower, a sharp,manding voice rang out not far from the entrance.

    ¡°Say that again, I dare you!¡±

    Curious, he turned to see two familiar faces in front of a mage wearing the Red Tower¡¯s robes.

    They were both his students.

    ¡°Why are you so mad? I¡¯m just stating facts, that¡¯s all.¡±

    ¡°Facts?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Back in the academy, I was always top of the ss. That¡¯s why I joined the Red Tower and became the first of my peers to reach Level 4. Meanwhile, you two were always average. That¡¯s why you ended up in the White Tower and haven¡¯t even broken past Level 3. Did I say anything wrong?¡±

    ¡°You little¡ªhow dare you¡ª¡±

    ¡°Silvia, calm down!¡±

    After observing the scene for a moment, Karim began walking toward them.

    As he approached, the Red Tower mage recognized him and quickly bowed.

    ¡°Have you finished your meeting, sir?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    Oscar nced at the students and asked,

    ¡°What¡¯s going on here?¡±

    ¡°Oh, nothing serious. Just catching up with some friends from the academy.¡±

    ¡°Friends, you say. Which families do they belong to?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ they¡¯remoners.¡±

    ¡°¡­Commoners?¡±

    Karim frowned immediately and let out a sigh.

    ¡°Hah, Leo Brult. How many times have I told you? Only associate with people who are worth your time¡ªlike the heir to the Crucian Count, standing here before you. He¡¯s a few years your senior.¡±

    When Karim introduced him, Leo bowed again.

    ¡°Greetings! I am Leo Brult, a Level 4 mage of the Red Tower.¡±

    ¡°Oscar Crucian.¡±

    Oscar gave a small nod in response.

    Karim chuckled and continued,

    ¡°I¡¯ve been taking this kid around to give him some field experience. He¡¯s the first of his graduating ss to reach Level 4. Being the second son of Viscount Brult, he¡¯s got talent, but as you can see, there¡¯s much to refine. If only he were more like you.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡±

    To Karim, Oscar¡¯s students no longer existed.

    The moment he realized they weremoners, they weren¡¯t worth his attention.

    ¡°Ah, there¡¯s our ride. Let¡¯s go.¡±

    Oscar bowed slightly to Karim.

    ¡°Safe travels. Until next time.¡±

    ¡°Next time, let¡¯s meet in a better setting with more fittingpany.¡±

    With a soft smile, Karim boarded a luxurious car with Leo, leaving them behind.

    Oscar, still watching the spot where the car had vanished, spoke up.

    ¡°Frustrated?¡±

    His two students, Benjamin and Silvia, who had been standing still, nodded.

    ¡°¡­Yes. I¡¯m frustrated.¡±

    ¡°I can deal with being looked down on, but having the White Tower insulted really pisses me off.¡±

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s the current reputation of the White Tower. There¡¯s no helping it.¡±

    Oscar¡¯s calm tone made Silvia pout.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you feel angry when you hear things like that, senior?¡±

    ¡°Of course, I feel angry. But will anything change if I lose my temper?¡±

    He turned to face her, his expression unwavering.

    ¡°The world is full of people who judge and discriminate based on your birth, status, and affiliation. Do you know the only way to stand tall before such people?¡±

    After thinking for a moment, she answered,

    ¡°Is it¡­ skill?¡±

    ¡°Exactly. Overwhelming skill that leaves no room for doubt, no matter the other factors.¡±

    The two students¡¯ faces darkened.

    ¡°But¡­ that guy¡¯s already a Level 4 mage. He¡¯s better than us.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s unfair. Nobles grow up with all the support they need to learn magic.¡±

    ¡°True, the starting line is different. But so what?¡±

    Oscar asked nonchntly.

    ¡°The world isn¡¯t fair. Change doesn¡¯te fromining about that¡ªit starts when you ept it and face it head-on.¡±

    Benjamin, mulling over Oscar¡¯s words, cautiously asked,

    ¡°Compared to noble-born mages, weck talent, and we started learning magicter. The White Tower¡¯s current state is also worse than the other four major towers. How can we surpass them?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s obvious. Use what the White Tower has that the others don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°What the White Tower has that the others don¡¯t¡­?¡±

    ¡°Does such a thing even exist?¡±

    As they stared at him with wide eyes, Oscar grinned confidently.

    ¡°Me. You won¡¯t find a better teacher than me in the entire continent.¡±

    ¡°¡­.¡±

    ¡°¡­.¡±

    Judging by their sour expressions, they weren¡¯t convinced¡ªbut that didn¡¯t matter.

    He would show them.

    What kind of results could the once-strongest mage in the world produce when he trained them with full dedication?

    ¡°Post an announcement on the Tower¡¯s board when we get back.¡±

    Oscar¡¯s voice was brimming with his characteristic confidence andposure.

    ¡°All Level 3 mages in the Tower will attend a training camp in three days. No exceptions.¡±

    ¡°...A training camp for Level 3 mages, with full attendance. Got it.¡±

    ¡°When should we say the camp ends?¡±

    Silvia asked.

    As if the answer was obvious, Oscar replied,

    ¡°When every participant reaches Level 4.¡±

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 Chapter 57

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    Chapter 57: Training Camp (2)

    The sole drawback of harmony-based magic is that it umtes mana at the slowest rate among all magical schools.

    But what if there were a breathing technique that allowed mana to be gathered continuously, 24 hours a day?

    It might sound like the fanciful daydream of a child, but making this a reality is exactly what the "Oscar Breathing Method" aplished.

    ''I remember referencing Ouroboros magic quite a bit when I created this.''

    Because of that, Oscar hesitated.

    Now that he had sessfully restored Ouroboros magic, would anyone believe him if he imed to have developed a new breathing technique based on it?

    After giving it some serious thought, his conclusion was clear: "Absolutely not."

    ''No matter how much of a theoretical genius Oscar might be, creating a breathing technique is just too much.''

    Even in his previous life, he hadn¡¯t perfected the breathing method until he reached Level 9.

    And now a Level 3 mage suddenly produces a technique with equivalent performance?

    At best, he¡¯d be dragged to a secret imperial facility for experimentation.

    ¡°Hmm.¡±

    But the goal of the uing training camp was to elevate all participants to Level 4.

    To achieve that, it was essential to create a situation where teaching the Oscar Breathing Method would be usible.

    After pondering for a while, Oscar eventually came up with the most convincing approach.

    ''If creating and unveiling it isn¡¯t feasible, discovering it by chance is the most natural route.''

    Luckily, he knew just the ce¡ªan appropriate spot where the legacy of a former Tower Master could usibly be hidden.

    ¡°...Hoo.¡±

    It was a ce he never wanted to return to, filled with remnants of his reckless younger days.

    It was his old hideout.

    * * *

    Whenever he thought of his master, one particr scene would alwayse to mind.

    Rustle, rustle.

    ¡°...Hey, are you seriously not going to help me with this?¡±

    Overwhelmed by the mountain of documents he was dealing with, Oscar voiced his frustration.

    His master, sipping a drink by the window, chuckled heartily.

    ¡°You brat, consider this practice. When you be the Tower Master, you¡¯ll have to do all of this anyway.¡±

    ¡°Exactly! I¡¯ll be drowning in this next month when I officially take over, so why make me do it now?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve already done this for decades. You¡¯re young¡ªthink of it as suffering a little earlier than usual, and stop whining.¡±

    It was the day, just a month before the session ceremony, when Oscar¡¯s master had been grinning from ear to ear.

    ¡°Time flies, doesn¡¯t it? Feels like yesterday when I picked you up off the streets.¡±

    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t make it sound like I¡¯m some stray cat you found on the road!¡±

    ¡°Technically, I did pick you up from the back alleys. Your eyes were gunky, and you had a runny nose.¡±

    ¡°Aaaagh!¡±

    His master teased him with a mischievous grin, then looked out at the luminous moon and continued.

    ¡°...You¡¯ve worked hard. Of course, the road ahead will be even tougher.¡±

    Gilbert Rosenbach.

    The 16th White Tower Master, who had stabilized the tower for 42 years, was on the verge of retirement.

    ¡°...That¡¯s it? No more words of wisdom?¡±

    ¡°What more is there to say?¡±

    ¡°I mean, you could give me advice like, ¡®Run the tower this way¡¯ or ¡®Avoid doing that.¡¯¡±

    ¡°If you insist, I can.¡±

    With a sly smile, his master offered a simple but profound answer.

    ¡°Do as you see fit.¡±

    ¡°...You¡¯re joking, right?¡±

    ¡°Nope. That¡¯s the White Tower¡¯s essence. It should never stagnate¡ªit must always flow. Make it your own.¡±

    Those words carried a weight that Oscar only now began to fully grasp.

    From next month, the lives of hundreds would hinge on his decisions.

    Carefully observing his master¡¯s expression, Oscar asked cautiously,

    ¡°Couldn¡¯t you dy retirement just a little longer? You¡¯re still spry, so why rush?¡±

    ¡°You brat, let me reap some benefits from having a talented disciple for once. Besides, my knees ache every time it rains¡ªit¡¯s hard enough just to walk.¡±

    That pathetic expression was clearly a ploy.

    If an 8th-Level Archmage struggled to walk, other elders would all be bedridden, awaiting death.

    ¡°Oh, and why does that emperor keep pestering me like this when I¡¯m about to retire?¡±

    ¡°Probably because he¡¯s sad to see you go, Master.¡±

    The two shared a unique bond.

    Gilbert had mentored the emperor in his youth.

    ¡°But you said this was hisst request before retirement?¡±

    ¡°Some new traces were discovered in the Red Mountains recently. I¡¯ll take a look.¡±

    The Red Mountains were practically the Empire¡¯s edge.

    Beyond themy a vast gray wastnd, barren and lifeless.

    ¡°...It¡¯s just a reconnaissance mission, so you¡¯ll be back soon?¡±

    ¡°I n to treat it like a brief vacation.¡±

    ncing at Oscar, his master gave a knowing smile.

    ¡°I¡¯ll return before the session ceremony, so don¡¯t worry.¡±

    ¡°...I wasn¡¯t worried!¡±

    Oscar pouted like a sulking child afraid their parents might not make it to a school event.

    Then, he asked,

    ¡°Are you really not giving me a session gift? All the other towers do it. I might just defect to one of them!¡±

    ¡°Ha-ha!¡±

    His master¡¯s warmughter filled the room as he turned to face him, eyes sparkling with yful mischief.

    ¡°I already gave it to you, you brat.¡±

    ¡°...If you¡¯re going to say something cheesy like, ¡®Our memories together are your gift,¡¯ I¡¯m seriously defecting.¡±

    ¡°Ha-ha-ha! Well, I did give it, so go ahead and find it. You¡¯ll figure it out soon enough.¡±

    The next day, his master left for the Red Mountains with the imperial forces.

    And that was thest memory Oscar had of him.

    Gilbert Rosenbach was killed there by beings who called themselves ¡°Demons,¡± whom they encountered for the first time.

    ''I suppose it started then.''

    That was when Oscar stopped visiting his old hideout¡ªa ce he used to frequent whenever he wanted to ck off.

    Perhaps it was a kind ofpulsion.

    A need to perfectly manage the White Tower that his master had entrusted to him.

    To be as perfect a leader and mage as his master had been.

    ...To exact revenge on every demon for his master¡¯s death.

    ¡°Has it really been 26 years?¡±

    Twenty-six years¡ªa span of time long enough forndscapes to change twice over.

    Yet, the small pond before him remained unchanged, preserving its exact form from his memories.

    Of course, it had to be. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

    The ce had been artificially constructed with illusion magic by his younger self.

    ''On the surface, it¡¯s an ordinary pond, but with the right mana code...''

    Adjusting his mana code, Oscar leapt into the pond without hesitation.

    Fortunately, his memory hadn¡¯t failed him.

    His body stayed dry as hended.

    Thud!

    Landing at the bottom of the pond, Oscar opened the hatch beneath him.

    ''I must say, I did an excellent job making this.''

    As he descended the stairs, praising himself, he came upon a room that looked like a study for an exam-taker.

    It was just as it had been.

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    The desk where he''d doodled magic alone, a bookshelf filled with dozens of novels, even the box where he used to stash snacks¡ªeverything was there.

    Oscar''s expression grew increasingly peculiar as he looked around the familiar yet pristine room.

    "......"

    Why is this ce so clean?

    He had no memory of casting any preservation magic here.

    Scanning the surroundings with wide eyes, he noticed a letter and a wooden box ced on the desk.

    As if bewitched, Oscar moved toward them.

    "This is...?"

    The seal on the envelope.

    It was one he knew intimately, one so familiar and dear.

    ¡®It''s Master¡¯s seal?''

    With trembling hands, he tore open the envelope to reveal neat handwriting he thought he would never see again.

    * * *

    [You did well. It¡¯s quite well made.]

    [Everyone needs a sanctuary to breathe.]

    [It doesn¡¯t have to be a ce. A person you can lean on, or a hobby that clears your mind¡ªanything would suffice. Make sure you have at least one.]

    Did Master know he¡¯d spent his free time loafing around here?

    He thought he had hidden it perfectly...

    [Oh, and about the session ceremony gift. I thought it would be too awkward to give it to you in person, so I left it here.]

    [P.S. Now that you¡¯re going to be the Tower Master, try cleaning once in a while. You''re too old for your room to look like this, you filthy brat.]

    After 26 years, he was hearing Master¡¯s nagging again.

    He used to hate it so much, so why did he long to hear it now?

    Oscar sat in the chair, staring at the spotless room for a long time.

    He could almost see his Master folding the nkets, organizing the bookshelf, and using preservation magic.

    "......You really left a gift."

    He had thought it was a lie and hadined bitterly to Edna about it.

    Fiddling with the wooden box for a while, Oscar finally opened the lid slowly.

    Inside was a pair of thin, transparent gloves, delicate as cicada wings.

    ¡®Zephyr.''

    It was Master¡¯s signature weapon.

    Lighter than a feather, it could easily deflect sword auras or intermediate-level magic, and its strength wasparable to steel, capable of shattering rocks with ease.

    Beside the gloves was a small note.

    [May my treasure be used well by someone far more precious to me.]

    "......"

    Oscar silently took the gloves and slid them onto his hands.

    They seemed a bitrge at first, but as soon as he wore them, they adjusted to fit perfectly.

    To the eye, his hands looked no different from when bare, which made the artifact even more valuable.

    ¡®You said I¡¯d find it soon, didn¡¯t you...''

    As soon as he spoke, Oscar¡¯s eyes reddened, and he bowed his head deeply.

    When he¡¯d found Master¡¯s remains, the gloves weren¡¯t on his hands.

    He had assumed a demon had stolen them after killing Master.

    ¡®I asked every single one of the countless demons I slew.¡¯

    Did you take Zephyr?

    But none of them had answered.

    ¡®And yet, why is this here¡­?¡¯

    Why was it here?

    If Master had taken it, wouldn¡¯t he have prevailed against the demons he faced?

    Might he not have escaped danger once or twice more?

    Couldn¡¯t he have, perhaps, burst outughing heartily and shown up at the session ceremony after all?

    "......Ghh."

    Clenching his fists, Oscar buried his head on the desk, his shoulders trembling for a long time.

    * * *

    He didn¡¯t know how much time had passed.

    Wiping his reddened eyes, Oscar stood and walked to the bookshelf.

    Among the books, he pulled out a thick notebook.

    ¡®It¡¯s a shame, really. This will probably be the first andst time.''

    It wasn¡¯t as if he could conveniently stumble upon the former Tower Master¡¯s hideout multiple times.

    This was his only chance to turn his knowledge from his previous life into a book for the Tower.

    ¡®But no matter how much of a Tower Master I am, I can¡¯t take a copy of a high-level magic book out of here.''

    The only thing of value he could share was the Oscar-style breathing technique.

    Pushing aside his regrets, Oscar quickly filled the notebook with a pen he¡¯d brought.

    Completing a 120-page book, he used magic to artificially age the ink here and there.

    ¡®Hmm.''

    No matter how closely examined, it looked like a book written decades ago, so there would be no suspicion.

    "......"

    Before leaving the hideout, Oscar nced back onest time, sticking out his lips in a pout.

    ¡®And by the way, I¡¯m not filthy anymore, Master. I bet I¡¯m better at cleaning than you were.''

    Hahaha!

    He could almost hear Master¡¯s heartyughter echoing in his ears.

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 Chapter 58

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    Chapter 58: Training Camp (3)

    Knock, knock.

    Hearing the sound of knocking, the Deputy Tower Master responded.

    "Come in."

    "Excuse me."

    "...Hmm? Oscar?"

    It was an entirely unexpected visitor, but a smile spread across the Deputy Tower Master''s face.

    Oscar had be someone who brought such a reaction.

    "What brings you here so suddenly?"

    "Well, I¡¯m not quite sure how to exin this myself..."

    Oscar, with an expression perfectly embodying confusion and awkwardness, cautiously began to speak.

    "While exercising in the forest today, I stumbled upon something."

    "...In the forest?"

    The Deputy Tower Master inteced their fingers and rested their chin on them, a look of intrigue crossing their face.

    Oscar wouldn¡¯te running to her over a pretty rock or an unusual mushroom he found in the woods, after all.

    "What did you find?"

    "Well, it seems to be... um..."

    Trailing off, Oscar scratched the back of his head before finishing his sentence.

    "I think it¡¯s a dungeon."

    * * *

    Upon hearing Oscar''s report, Hamel, the Deputy Tower Master, visited the pond in question with two other elders.

    Staring nkly at the pond, Maxim asked,

    "This is supposed to be a dungeon? It just looks like an ordinary pond to me."

    In response, Oscar proceeded to enact Scene #2 of the prearranged script.

    "I thought so too. But when I tried to rinse my dirty hands in the water..."

    Oscar dipped one hand into the pond as he spoke.

    Surprisingly, the water did not ripple.

    "That¡¯s when I realized it was fake."

    "Indeed. This is a very high-level illusion spell. Typically, illusions of this caliber distinguish between magical codes to discern reality from deception. The absence of such mechanisms is, in itself, remarkable."

    The code recognition feature had existed initially but had been erased on the way back.

    Otherwise, entering the hideout would have taken an eternity.

    Thud!

    Landing at the bottom of the pond, Maxim eyed the conspicuously installed door with suspicion.

    "Hmm. It looks like a typical dungeon entrance. Opening the door might trigger all sorts of traps."

    "Are you sure? It just looks like a regr door to me. Can¡¯t we just open it?"

    At Fidelina''s question, Maxim shook his head.

    "Sorry, but trust the words of someone who¡¯s conquered numerous dungeons."

    Trust him, my foot.

    Just turn the doorknob, and it¡¯ll open.

    Come on, just go in already.

    Unaware of this thought, Maxim began cautiously examining the doorknob.

    "Hmm. The mechanism must be so cleverly concealed that it¡¯s hard to spot..."

    After inspecting the door for over 10 minutes, it was exasperating enough to drive anyone crazy.

    Finally, over 20 minutester, Maxim opened the door and descended the staircase.

    When he reached the small room inside, his expression stiffened.

    "An unexpectedly cozy space appears out of nowhere? Everyone, stay alert! Even this room could be an illusion!"

    "It¡¯s not, Elder Maxim."

    Unable to watch any longer, the Deputy Tower Master raised a hand to stop him.

    "From what I can tell, this seems to have been a hideout for one of our senior White Tower mages."

    He examined the room, gathering information.

    "Not a speck of dust can be found anywhere, suggesting that powerful preservation magic has been maintained to this day. Whoever the owner of this ce was, they were undoubtedly a high-level mage."

    "Wouldn¡¯t looking at the desk help us identify the owner?"

    Offering a reasonable suggestion, Fidelina naturally approached the desk.

    She picked up a book sitting alone atop it and muttered,

    "Hmm. The book itself seems quite old¡ªat least 20 years, I¡¯d say."

    "..."

    Actually, it was made today.

    He had simply cast a corrosion spell to make it look aged.

    "Let¡¯s see... The title is... Breathing Technique?"

    Reading the in title on the cover, she felt somewhat let down.

    Renowned breathing techniques typically had distinctive names.

    But as soon as she turned the first page, her pupils dted.

    "...What?"

    Frozen stiff, she turned her head like a rusty golem to look at the Deputy Tower Master.

    "D-Deputy Tower Master! Th-this is...!"

    "What is it?"

    "Is it a trap!?"

    The other two quickly gathered around her, and what they saw was a single inscription:

    [Harmony and cirction, capturing the mysteries of eternity.]

    [By the 17th White Tower Master, Oscar Sage.]

    For a moment, all sound vanished from the room.

    It wasn¡¯t due to any ¡ºSilence¡» or ¡ºSound Binding ¡» spell.

    Everyone naturally held their breath, and Fidelina swallowed hard before barely managing to speak.

    "Did I read that correctly?"

    "...Let¡¯s find out."

    Receiving the book, the Deputy Tower Master carefully turned the pages and read its contents.

    Rustle, rustle.

    Only the sound of turning pages was heard in the silence that enveloped the room for about 30 minutes.

    "It seems..."

    Closing the book cautiously, the Deputy Tower Master lifted his head.

    "The heavens have not yet abandoned the White Tower."

    "Y-you mean...?"

    "It¡¯s authentic beyond a doubt."

    "My goodness!"

    Maxim and Fidelina, mouths agape, unconsciously hugged each other.

    And why not?

    If it was Oscar Sage''s breathing technique, it was the legendary Oscar Method¡ªa groundbreaking technique that wlessly overcame the limitations of the Harmony system, cherished as a holy grail by the Blue Tower.

    The Deputy Tower Master, unusually unable to suppress his excitement, turned to look at Oscar.

    "Oscar, I doubt you realize the magnitude of what you¡¯ve uncovered. This book is the future of the White Tower and its wings of hope."

    "Is it really that significant?"

    "It is indeed."

    Seeing the three of them celebrate like children warmed his heart as well.

    ¡®...If anything, I should be the one thanking them.¡¯

    For holding together the White Tower he had once brought to ruin.

    They were the ones who had given him a chance to pour back the water he had spilled.

    "If I''ve been of help to the White Tower, I''m d."

    A relieved smile spread across Oscar''s face.

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    * * *

    The 36th floor of the Magic Tower, the Campus.

    Thergest lecture hall in the main building of this floor was finally filled with warmth once more.

    ¡°This lecture hall feels nostalgic somehow.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s been a while, actually. It¡¯s been half a month since we werest here, hasn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Already? Wow¡­¡±

    A mage nced around the lecture hall.

    Once so crowded that people had to stand for lectures, the hall now felt rtively sparse.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t it feel like there are a lot of empty seats today?¡±

    ¡°This might be the normal state. Honestly, it was weird that senior mages were attending a basic magic ss in the first ce.¡±

    Mages at level 4 and above attended a few lectures before gradually dropping out¡ªnot because they had nothing left to learn, but rather because they had rified their uncertainties.

    Now, they were likely dedicating themselves to training, digging deeper into their newfound insights.

    Currently, the lecture hall was filled only with the original 32 level-3 mages from the first day.

    ¡°But suddenly going on a training retreat¡ªdoesn¡¯t it feel random at this point in time?¡±

    ¡°Ah, about that...¡±

    Benjamin Scott began exining everything that had happened a few days ago when he was with Sylvia.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om

    ¡°...Hmm. I heard rumors that Leo Brult was the first among our cohort to be an intermediate mage.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve also heard that others in our ss are starting to reach level 4.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fast. They¡¯re from the other Magic Towers, right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. All the talented ones from the academy went over there.¡±

    Though grouped as the "Four Great Magic Towers," the disparity among them was evident. People didn¡¯t call it ¡°Three Strong, One Weak¡± without reason.

    This was something everyone, especially the mages of the White Tower, knew well.

    ¡°...It feels like we¡¯re the only ones being left behind.¡±

    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t overthink it. We¡¯ll all reach level 4 eventually.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s stay optimistic. The ones advancing now are just those who are especially capable.¡±

    ¡°Capable ones, huh...¡±

    So, does that mean everyone gathered herecks ability?

    A somber atmosphere lingered in the lecture hall until the door opened and a familiar figure stepped inside.

    ¡°It¡¯s been a while.¡±

    Oscar Crucian.

    The eyes of the junior mages sparkled as they looked at their proud senior.

    Recently, he had made headlines for rewriting history in Baran.

    ¡°Senior! Is it true that the Security Bureau and the Violet Brigade shed in Baran?¡±

    ¡°I heard you fought a tattooist at the scene. Was that real?¡±

    ¡°Rumor has it you took down a mage hunter on your way back. Can you tell us more?¡±

    At this rate, they might even ask about his first love.

    ¡°That¡¯s enough chit-chat. I noticed your gloomy faces when I walked in. What¡¯s the matter?¡±

    ¡°Well, before you arrived, we were talking about the other Magic Towers...¡±

    ¡°Some of our peers from the academy have be intermediate mages, and it¡¯s made us a little restless.¡±

    Though he hadn¡¯t experienced it personally, falling behind one¡¯s peers seemed to be a significant source of stress.

    Oscar asked directly.

    ¡°Why do you think your growth is slower than your academy peers?¡±

    The sudden question left everyone ncing at each other awkwardly.

    The silence stretched long until Damian finally responded with a blunt remark.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it obvious? It¡¯s because we¡¯re less talented than they are.¡±

    ¡°Hm.¡±

    He wasn¡¯t entirely wrong.

    Prestigious Magic Towers scouted those who stood out at the academy.

    ¡®Right now, that probably means the other three Magic Towers, excluding the White Tower.¡¯

    Those mages were essentially filtered in the first round, meaning those who ended up at other towers were of rtively lower caliber.

    And with the White Tower''s reputation at rock bottom, talented mages now preferred the Blood Tower or ck Tower.

    ¡®In other words, my students are either average or, at best, gifted.¡¯

    Even the most talented among them, Damian, wasn¡¯t exceptional enough to be called a genius.

    He had barely managed to solve the reverse calction problem of ¡ºSound Binding ¡» by the end of the first lecture.

    ¡°Sure, there¡¯s a difference in talent. But do you really think level 4 is about talent?¡±

    ¡°...You¡¯re still level 3 yourself, though.¡±

    ¡°Ahem, I heard that.¡±

    Tap, tap, tap!

    Floating chalk began writing on the ckboard.

    [Basic Mages]**

    Level 1: Able to manipte mana and perform simple basic spells.

    Level 2: Capable ofplex basic spell calctions and improving spell uracy and efficiency.

    Level 3: Fully understands and begins applying all basic spells.

    Beyond that, nothing was written.

    There was no need for them to know just yet.

    Oscar spoke.

    ¡°This is the academic definition of the stages of basic mages. Anyone here who feels they haven¡¯t fully understood or can¡¯t apply basic spells, raise your hand.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    Awkwardly, they half-raised their hands.

    Oscar sighed deeply and said:

    ¡°Put your hands down. What do you think I¡¯ve been teaching you all this time?¡±

    The reinterpretation of basic magic had been designed specifically for the White Tower¡¯s basic mages¡ªto help them thoroughly understand and apply basic magic.

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to learn anything else about basic magic from anyone.¡±

    ¡°...!¡±

    They might not realize it, but he had trained them to reach that point.

    ¡°And one more thing. I can confidently say that no level-3 mage from any other tower has as solid a foundation as you do.¡±

    A level-9 Archmage had distilled all his insights into easily understandable lessons.

    If another Magic Tower were capable of better teaching, they¡¯d have conquered the continent already.

    Quiet and reserved, Amy Lavin hesitantly raised her hand.

    ¡°D-Does that mean we can reach level 4 r-right now?¡±

    ¡°Not exactly.¡±

    Oscar shook his head.

    ¡°As you know, reaching level 7 or higher requires epiphanies, but level 4 intermediate mages don¡¯t need anything like that. Any mage capable enough to enter a Magic Tower will eventually reach level 4. So I¡¯ll ask again¡ªwhy haven¡¯t you crossed that threshold yet?¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    The students fell silent, deep in thought.

    If they had mastered basic magic as he imed, then something else must be holding them back.

    Damian frowned and muttered.

    ¡°Could it be because our mana circuits haven¡¯t stabilized yet?¡±

    ¡°Correct.¡±

    Oscar nodded and continued.

    ¡°When a new mana circuit is installed, it usually takes anywhere from six months to three years to stabilizepletely.¡±

    ¡°What happens if you install a new circuit before it¡¯s stabilized?¡±

    ¡°You die.¡±

    There was no exaggeration or metaphor in his blunt answer.

    ¡°It¡¯s like building another sandcastle on top of an unstable one. The moment a wave hits, it copses. Installing a new circuit before the previous one stabilizes is like setting up a ticking time bomb.¡±

    The sound of gulps filled the room.

    These students were likely the most tempted to hastily install new circuits.

    Incidentally, this applied to him as well.

    If his past life as an Archmage had allowed him to shoot straight to level 9 upon awakening, he would¡¯ve done so already.

    ¡°So once our mana circuits stabilize, we can reach level 4 anytime?¡±

    ¡°Exactly.¡±

    Despite the clear answer, they still looked puzzled.

    They didn¡¯t know how to elerate the stabilization process.

    ¡°You¡¯ll learn how to speed up the stabilization of your mana circuits during this retreat.¡±

    Oscar pulled out a pair of sunsses and a hat from who-knows-where.

    Then, blowing a whistle, he announced:

    ¡°Everyone, gather at the campus field. You¡¯ve got five minutes.¡±

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 Chapter 59

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    Chapter 59: Training Camp (4)

    The artificial sun rose over the campus athletic field.

    32 trainees stood in neat rows and columns on the vast space covered in soft grass.

    Oscar, watching them with satisfaction, opened his mouth to speak.

    "The training method is simple. Starting now, use¡ºeleration¡»and run around the field until you copse from exhaustion. Easy, right?"

    "...?"

    Question marks appeared above the trainees'' heads.

    Their purpose for gathering wasn¡¯t to build physical stamina but to stabilize their mana circuits.

    As expected, Demian Proud, known for his prickly personality, furrowed his brow and asked,

    "What does running have to do with stabilizing mana circuits?"

    "Hmm. A good question."

    Oscar didn¡¯t particrly dislike that attitude.

    Even though they were young, they were still mages.

    And mages weren¡¯t the kind of people to do something cheerfully unless they understood it with their own minds.

    In short, it was a matter of exining everything from start to finish to gain their understanding.

    "First, you should all be aware of one fact. The Imperial Magic Society has deemed it impossible to artificially stabilize mana circuits. They rmend ceasing any experiments rted to it entirely."

    Hearing this sudden revtion, the trainees¡¯ pupils wavered.

    "Wait a minute. Does that mean what we¡¯re about to do is illegal?"

    "Well, there¡¯s no legal force behind it, so don¡¯t worry. It¡¯s merely a safety guideline."

    "¡­Still, it¡¯s unsafe, isn¡¯t it?"

    "That sounds even scarier."

    Oscar, looking at their suddenly darkened expressions, continued,

    "As you all know, mana circuits are far moreplex than regr blood vessels or nervous systems. One wrong move can lead to disability or death."

    This phenomenon was referred to as mana overload in the Empire and inner demons in the Yan Kingdom.

    "In other words, the society concluded it was impossible because they couldn¡¯t find a 100% safe method."

    "If it¡¯s that dangerous, wouldn¡¯t it be better to stop now?"

    "Don¡¯t worry. They couldn¡¯t find it, but the White Tower has discovered apletely safe method."

    Oscar pulled a book from his coat.

    "You¡¯ve all heard the rumors about the discovery of Oscar Sage¡¯s hideout two days ago, haven¡¯t you?"

    Everyone nodded.

    That rumor had stirred quite amotion in the White Tower.

    "Unfortunately, no advanced magic was found there. However, this breathing technique was. Commonly known as the Oscar Breathing Method."

    "!"

    The trainees collectively stared at the book as if mesmerized.

    The Oscar Breathing Method was famous as a lost treasure of the White Tower.

    "Wait, is this that breathing technique? The one that allows you to absorb mana 24/7?"

    "If you master it, doesn¡¯t itpletely eliminate the drawbacks of harmony-type mages?"

    "Does this mean mastering it stabilizes the mana circuits?"

    "No, it doesn¡¯t."

    Oscar waved the book lightly and exined,

    "As you know, this method allows you to absorb mana continuously, 24 hours a day. Normally, mana circuits are activated briefly only when casting magic, but this keeps them semi-permanently activated. While it¡¯s extremely tiring, it elerates the stabilization of mana circuits to an entirely different level."

    Of course, if this method alone could make one a Level 4 mage, the training camp wouldn¡¯t even have started.

    "I¡¯ve prepared training to maximize the effect of this breathing method. That training is running."

    "?"

    More question marks popped up.

    Most wore expressions that said, ¡®Why is the conversation going there again?¡¯

    Oscar exined why they had to run in simpler terms.

    "As you know, muscles grow by repairing and regenerating after minor damage. What¡¯s amazing is that mana circuits are the same. If you push them to the limit, creating a state that requires regeneration and healing, they¡¯ll grow stronger and stabilize faster. This is why mages who frequently face life-and-death battles on the front lines improve so quickly." n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om

    Of course, there was a simple reason why this rough method was thoroughly rejected by academia.

    "The only downside is that until the damaged mana circuits return to normal, you¡¯d need to drink expensive potions like water and have a priest on standby."

    "Oh! Don¡¯t tell me¡­"

    "Exactly. With the Oscar Breathing Method, you don¡¯t need to spend all that money or effort."

    The Blue Tower¡¯s desperation to obtain this method stemmed precisely from this.

    They knew they¡¯d never close the gap with the White Tower without it.

    Oscar looked over the trainees and asked,

    "Now, do you understand why you need to run?"

    "¡­"

    In short, the mana circuits needed to be thoroughly strained and damaged for the training to be effective.

    Seeing their inability to object further, he gave the order.

    "What are you waiting for? Start running!"

    * * *

    "Take a five-minute break, then run 10 moreps around the field. How manyps?"

    "Tenps!"

    "Listen to your tone! Make that 15ps! How manyps?"

    "Fifteenps!!!"

    The training was intense enough to seem more fitting for knights than mages.

    Butining was awkward when even the instructor was tirelessly moving.

    "Speed up at the front! Don¡¯t block the pace!"

    "Are you selfish? Can¡¯t you see your teammate about to copse? Support them!"

    "If you fall behind, consider yourself dead! If you don¡¯t all finish together, you¡¯ll start over from the beginning!"

    Oscar, yelling instructions, ran back and forth through the ranks, covering twice their distance.

    With the instructor putting in so much effort, who could darein about exhaustion?

    "Amy Lavin, over here for a moment."

    When he spotted someone reaching their physical limit, he didn¡¯t hesitate to call them aside.

    "Here, drink this potion in one go. It¡¯s an advanced potion set to be released next quarter."

    "Huff, huff¡­ Senior¡­ This is too much. Can¡¯t I just stop running without taking the potion?"

    "Of course. Your peers will only need to run five moreps each. Go rest over there on the bench."

    "¡­I¡¯ll take the potion."

    Naturally, the trainees were on the verge of losing their minds.

    Their stamina and mana felt like they were drying up by the second, with a metallic taste filling their mouths.

    They were truly starting to understand what it meant to run until the brink of death.

    ¡®Why does that man have such ridiculous stamina? Was he a knight aspirant or something?¡¯

    ¡®Wasn¡¯t he guzzling alcohol daily just a few months ago?¡¯

    ¡®Now that you mention it, his frail, sickly image haspletely disappeared.¡¯

    Physical limits varied from person to person.

    For those who hit their limit despite consuming a potion, Oscar would calmly teach them the breathing technique¡¯s mantra instead.

    Some of the trainees, seeing this, had a sudden thought.

    ¡®Wait, if I just copse, I can rest, right?¡¯

    ¡®It¡¯s not like there¡¯s a prize foring in first. Why risk my life for this?¡¯

    A few cunning individuals pretended to copse, but they couldn¡¯t fool Oscar¡¯s sharp eyes.

    "Here, drink this potion."

    "¡­Uh, I already drank one earlier."

    "You could¡¯ve run more. Think of this as punishment for deceiving both me and yourself. Now, drink it all."

    A sly grin stretched across Oscar''s face, a faint trace of madness glinting in his eyes.

    After thoroughly draining every bit of strength from the trainees without sparing a single one, Oscar addressed the scattered "corpses" lying about.

    "Meals will be prepared at the dining hall in the annex. After showering and changing clothes in the dormitory,e by to eat. It¡¯ll take about an hour to get ready."

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    "¡­Wait, are you going to cook it yourself, senior?"

    "Of course. I can''t very well make you handle that on top of everything else."

    As Oscar calmly walked off toward the dining hall, groans andints began to ripple through the trainees.

    "How many days of this do we have to endure to reach level 4?"

    "It¡¯s only the first day, and I already want to go home¡­ I could be back in my room instantly if I just rode the mana lift."

    "¡­I¡¯ll endure."

    At that moment, Benjamin Scott, who had been lying t on the ground, suddenly bolted upright, his determination clear.

    Wasn¡¯t he the one who had been dismissed and ignored by Leo Br¨¹lt just a few days ago?

    "I¡¯m going to finish this training no matter what and return as a level-4 intermediate mage."

    "Same here. I have to move up to face that insufferable guy again and put him in his ce."

    With Sylvia Finn adding her voice to the resolve, other mages began to feel inspired.

    This even included Damian Proud, who had seriously been considering quitting.

    ''¡­No way I can let those guys outpace me.''

    The thought of being the only one left behind as the others achieved level 4 was a nightmare Damian couldn¡¯t bear.

    After a brief rest, the trainees headed to the dining hall, where they were greeted with a sight that left them all stunned.

    "Did¡­ did you really cook all of this, senior?"

    "¡­I¡¯m starting to get scared of him. Is there anything he can¡¯t do?"

    Sds, soups, nutritious steaks, and even pasta dishes¡ªall perfectly ted and delicious-looking.

    And the taste didn¡¯t disappoint either.

    "When did you even learn how to cook like this?"

    "Here and there, by watching others."

    Oscar replied as he took off his apron and chef¡¯s hat.

    The truth, however, was that he had learned it all on the battlefield.

    ''In war, even high-ranking mages can¡¯t afford to sit back and act noble. Everyone had to pull their weight somehow.''

    In those desperate times, when one person often had to do the work of three or four, Oscar had learned to cook.

    "Listen while you eat. Resting is also part of training. Once you''re done eating, head back to your dormitories, don¡¯t mess around, and sleep until morning. Tomorrow¡¯s training will start just like today¡¯s."

    The clinking of utensils paused at his words, a collective dread washing over the trainees.

    Cale Smith, who had cunningly consumed two advanced potions earlier, hesitantly raised his hand.

    "Senior, if mana circuits are really simr to muscles, wouldn¡¯t daily strain end up being counterproductive?"

    "A reasonable point. But you don¡¯t need to worry about that."

    Oscar casually revealed arge backpack brimming with potions.

    "I came prepared for that. And if necessary, I¡¯ll just get more from the potion-making department. I¡¯ll make sure your physical condition stays optimal, so trust me."

    "¡­"

    The trainees, now as silent as mute frogs, couldn¡¯t muster a single word ofint.

    * * *

    -Day 5 of the Training Camp

    The first to notice a change in his body was Damian Proud.

    When he opened his eyes that morning, he immediately felt different.

    ¡®Was my mana always this smooth?¡¯

    The sensation of mana coursing through his circuits felt alien, yet pleasant.

    Previously, no matter how hard he tried to steer it, the mana resisted his will.

    Now, it glided effortlessly, like navigating a corner with ease.

    ¡®Maybe this crazy training is actually working¡­¡¯

    Initially, he¡¯d thought the training was absurd and had been on the verge of quitting.

    But with his mana moving as if perfectly in tune with his intentions, even simple spellcasting had be enjoyable.

    ¡°Huff, huff.¡±

    Oddly enough, even the day¡¯s physical training felt less taxing than usual.

    His body felt lighter and more agile, as though something had shifted entirely.

    "Interesting."

    After noticing the change, Oscar summoned Damian to his room right after training.

    "Congrattions."

    "Uh, what for?"

    "For earning the qualifications to reach level 4."

    "¡­Me?"

    Damian''s eyes widened in shock, as if he¡¯d just been given a life-altering diagnosis.

    Oscar chuckled lightly and nodded.

    "Yes. You must have noticed something different about yourself."

    "I just thought¡­ it was the result of the training."

    It turned out that his mana circuits had stabilized to the point where he could install the fourth mana circuit, the hallmark of a level-4 mage.

    After three and a half years of chasing that dream at the academy, he now stood at its threshold, achieved in just five days of training camp.

    "Here, use this when installing your fourth circuit."

    Oscar handed him a book.

    When Damian opened it, his eyes went wide with amazement.

    ¡®This is¡­.¡¯

    Inside was a detailed schematic for the mana circuit.

    Even more astonishing, it was tailored specifically to his physique and mana usage habits.

    And it didn¡¯t stop there¡ªthere were diagrams for circuits to install at level 5 and level 6 as well.

    "Did you¡­ make this yourself?"

    "Yes. Any issues?"

    "¡­"

    Damian stared at Oscar in stunned silence.

    It suddenly became clear just how enormous the gap between them was.

    ¡®For him to create this means he¡¯s already fully analyzed my body and mana circuits¡­¡¯

    And yet, Damian had never shared such details.

    That meant Oscar had deduced it all simply by observing him during training.

    "¡­"

    This was on par with¡ªor perhaps greater than¡ªthe skill of the famed designer of the Violet Brigade, who crafted circuits with extensive shared data.

    Oscar had achieved simr results through sheer observation alone.

    ¡®¡­So this is what it means to be a genius.¡¯

    A figure destined by the heavens to leave their mark on the era.

    Strangely, Damian felt no jealousy or resentment, only awe.

    One doesn¡¯t envy the clouds for being high or the mountains for being tall.

    "Anyway, congrattions. I knew you¡¯d be the first."

    Oscar extended a fist.

    Damian looked at it for a moment before letting out a small, defeatedugh and bumping his own fist against it.

    "Thank you, senior."

    For the first time, Damian sincerely called Oscar his senior.

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 Chapter 60

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    Chapter 60: Training Camp (5)

    -Day 6 of the Training Camp.

    Damian Proud sessfully stabilized his mana circuits and finally reached Level 4st night.

    Hearing this news in the morning ignited the students'' motivation.

    After all, it was proof that the grueling training could eventually yield sweet rewards.

    Looking down at the students, who were filled with a strange excitement, Oscar opened his mouth.

    ¡°Starting today, we¡¯re adding new routines to your training.¡±

    In exercise, there¡¯s a principle called progressive overload.

    It means gradually increasing the load ced on the body.

    The reason is simple:

    ¡®Humans are creatures of adaptation.¡¯

    Muscles, and even mana circuits, stop growing if subjected to the same intensity of training every day.

    The body adapts too quickly to that level of effort.

    ¡®Especially since these guys¡¯ natural recovery rates are enhanced by my breathing techniques. On top of that, they¡¯re downing potions like tap water.¡¯

    By now, their crafty bodies would¡¯ve instinctively figured it out¡ªprobably yesterday, or the day before at thetest.

    That this level of training wasn¡¯t going to kill them.

    And so, Oscar had to deceive their overconfident bodies. N?v(el)B\\jnn

    ¡®Ah, if I¡¯m not careful, I might really die. If I don¡¯t get stronger, I¡¯ll perish for sure.¡¯

    Making them feel this way by increasing the intensity of their training was what Oscar called progressive overload.

    Naturally, the students listening to his exnation were all dumbfounded.

    ¡®¡­In short, he¡¯s just saying he¡¯s going to make our lives even harder, isn¡¯t he?¡¯

    ¡®I was just starting to feel like I was keeping up with the training tempo¡­ as of yesterday¡­¡¯

    ¡®I miss my mom.¡¯

    Oscar¡¯s stern voice echoed in their ears as the students wore despondent expressions.

    ¡°In the morning, you¡¯ll run the sameps around the track as before. However, you¡¯ll now use twice as much mana.¡±

    ¡°In the afternoon, you¡¯ll gain practicalbat experience through sparring. Of course, I¡¯ll be observing.¡±

    Benjamin Scott raised his hand sharply.

    ¡°Instructor! Excluding Damian, there are 31 students left. Does that mean someone will have to spar twice?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    Oscar answered curtly, looking at Benjamin through his sunsses.

    ¡°Why are you excluding Damian?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ isn¡¯t he leaving the camp now that he¡¯s reached Level 4?¡±

    ¡°It was clearly written in the official notice, wasn¡¯t it? This training camp ends only when all students reach Level 4.¡±

    ¡°...You mean?¡±

    ¡°Damian isn¡¯t going anywhere. He¡¯ll attend morning and afternoon sessions just like the rest of you.¡±

    One for all, all for one.

    If even a single student fell behind, the camp wouldn¡¯t end.

    Realizing this, the students¡¯ faces turned pale.

    ¡°If you don¡¯t want to be a burden to your teammate who reached Level 4, give it your all in training. Stabilize your mana circuits as quickly as possible.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    ¡°If you understand, start running.¡±

    Oscar''s eyes grew contemtive as the students reluctantly began their daily run.

    There was a reason he insisted on such an old-fashioned training regimen.

    ¡®These kids are fresh graduates from the Academy.¡¯

    He¡¯d been there himself and knew the kind of lessons it instilled: endlesspetition, morepetition, and survival through surpassing one¡¯s peers.

    The Academy¡¯s emphasis on its high admission rate to the Four Great Magic Towers made this focus inevitable, and he understood that.

    But someday, these students would face moments where they¡¯d need to trust someone else to guard their backs.

    ¡®And unless they¡¯ve built enough trust and camaraderie, it¡¯s impossible to entrust your back to someone.¡¯

    He knew that all too well.

    It was why he¡¯d fought alone for so long during his first missions on the battlefield.

    ¡®There were plenty of close calls. A mage with an exposed back is the juiciest prey imaginable.¡¯

    At the very least, he didn¡¯t want to force these kids¡ªhis juniors¡ªto endure the same terrible loneliness.

    For that, he was willing to be a demon.

    No, he had to be one.

    Beep! Beep-beep!

    Blowing his whistle relentlessly, Oscar crossed his arms and shouted,

    ¡°I see legs moving! Pick up the pace!¡±

    * * *

    By the time the afternoon training was over, a strange tension hung over the training ground.

    Two men stood face-to-face in the center of the field, while the other students sat huddled in the stands, watching them intently.

    ¡°You want to be evaluated?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    Damian Proud took a deep breath, slowly drawing out his mana.

    Fixing his gaze on the man before him¡ªthe person he had requested guidance from¡ªDamian concentrated all his senses on his fingertips.

    ¡®I¡¯ve gotten stronger.¡¯

    This wasn¡¯t just because he¡¯d reached Level 4.

    It was a confidence he could feel naturally.

    Everything was refined to a level iparable to yesterday, from the unfolding of his spells to theirpletion.

    And so, he wanted to know more.

    Just how far had hee?

    ¡ºWind Cutter.¡»

    Shhrrrrr!

    Ten des formed at his slim fingertips, sharp and wless.

    Not a single edge was out of ce as they spun at high speed.

    What¡¯s more, each de had its own unique characteristics:

    A long, thin one specialized for thrusting.

    Another perfect for shing.

    One designed to lodge into a target and resist being removed.

    It was like gazing at a master craftsman¡¯s collection of daggers forged over a lifetime.

    ¡°...The first time I showed you Wind Cutter during a lesson, your evaluation was harsh.¡±

    At best, it had been a ¡°half-baked¡± Wind Cutter.

    That was the grade he had received back then.

    But if he had shown this Wind Cutter at the time, what kind of evaluation would he have gotten?

    Seeing the determination in Damian¡¯s eyes, Oscar smirked.

    ¡°If I had seen this back then, I would¡¯ve given you high praise. It keeps all the strengths of your old version while fixing every weakness.¡±

    Just as Damian¡¯s expression began to brighten at the praise, Oscar added,

    ¡°But just as this Wind Cutter is different from the one you showed back then, the Damian of today is also different.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    Reaching a new level also meant that the standards of evaluation had changed.

    ¡°For a Level 3 mage¡¯s Wind Cutter, this is a perfect score. But for a Level 4 mage¡¯s Wind Cutter, it¡¯s far too ordinary.¡±

    ¡°...!¡±

    Once again, his report card fell short of satisfaction.

    Seeing the frustration clouding Damian¡¯s eyes, Oscar teased with a smirk.

    ¡°You¡¯re no genius. At best, you¡¯re a talented prodigy.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to spell that out for me!¡±

    ¡°Then why are you trying to act like a genius?¡±

    Oscar¡¯s expression remained indifferent as he posed the question.

    ¡°Have I ever exined the difference between the average, the talented, and the genius?¡±

    At that, not only Damian but also the trainees watching their sparring shook their heads.

    If they don¡¯t know, he should exin.

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    ¡°It¡¯s simple. The average person learns one thing when you teach them one. The talented? They learn five or six. So, what about a genius?¡±

    ¡°...I don¡¯t know. I¡¯m not a genius. Do they learn ten things when you teach them one?¡±

    Damian responded with irritation, making Oscar chuckle softly.

    ¡°No. A genius doesn¡¯t need to be taught by someone else. They figure out ten, a hundred things on their own. Their way of thinking is fundamentally different.¡±

    Oscar himself hadn¡¯t mastered his ability to control mana through teachings.

    Back when he was a runny-nosed kid wandering the alleys, clueless about what magic even was, he instinctively understood how to manipte mana, sometimes creating something resembling magic.

    That¡¯s how his master, who happened to see him, took him in.

    ¡°...You¡¯re boasting, aren¡¯t you? Saying you¡¯re a genius.¡±

    ¡°Halfway, maybe? But what I¡¯m trying to say is this: there¡¯s a way of learning that suits the talented.¡±

    People aspire to learn the perspective and thought process of geniuses.

    Books and lectures on the subject sell like hotcakes for a reason.

    Everyone wants to be extraordinary, to be called a genius.

    But that¡¯s all an illusion.

    ¡°You can¡¯t learn it. It can¡¯t be taught. So stop pretending to be a genius and focus on being the talented person you are.¡±

    ¡°Talented this, talented that... So what are you saying I should do?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no point in trying to understand what geniuses think. Just memorize it all.¡±

    Oscar beckoned with a finger.

    ¡°Throw them.¡±

    Without hesitation, Damian sent ten des flying.

    Was he worried about hurting his opponent?

    Not at all.

    He knew from experience that such a simple Wind Cutter spell wouldn¡¯t harm someone like Oscar.

    ¡°Watch closely. This is your homework, just for you. By the end of this training camp, you¡¯ll have to memorize this spellpletely.¡±

    The mana Oscar summoned instantly took the form of des.

    But the sheer number was unusual.

    In the blink of an eye, they multiplied past a hundred, then two hundred, eventually numbering three hundred.

    They were far smaller than typical Wind Cutters, norger than cherry blossom petals.

    ¡°...¡±

    Damian stared, spellbound. How could magic be so beautiful?

    The swirling petals surrounding Oscar looked as though they were in full bloom.

    The Noble of the White Tower¡­

    The title whispered about this senior mage.

    For some reason, the words floated to the forefront of Damian¡¯s mind as a gentle breeze blew through.

    ¡®The des may be many, but they¡¯re so small. Could they really destroy my Wind Cutter...?¡¯

    The moment doubt crossed his mind, the fluttering petals turned into ferocious beasts, dismantling his daggers piece by piece and sweeping past him.

    ¡°Gah!¡±

    The unnerving sensation made Damian stumble and fall backward.

    Frantically patting himself, he realized there wasn¡¯t a single scratch on him.

    ¡°The des may be small, but each one is enhanced with mana, giving them plenty of power. They¡¯re difficult to defend against.¡±

    ¡°...What¡¯s the name of this spell?¡±

    In Damian¡¯s wide eyes burned pure longing¡ªan intense desire to make the spell his own.

    ¡°Flower Rain.¡±

    Tiny Wind Cutter petals overwhelming their target.

    Damian clenched his fists tightly.

    * * *

    In the main hall of the White Tower.

    A meeting held once a month brought together over a dozen individuals.

    In the absence of the Tower Master, Vice Tower Master Hamel Grimwiz presided over the gathering.

    ¡°Is everyone here?¡±

    ¡°Yes, except for the head of the Potion Division.¡±

    Oscar Crucian, the head of that division, was currently away, leading a training camp for junior mages.

    ¡°Thus, I¡¯m attending in his stead.¡±

    Lena White¡¯s sharp response drew approving smiles from the vice master and elders.

    They were grateful someone of her caliber was part of the White Tower, especially with other factions constantly trying to recruit her.

    ¡°Let¡¯s start with the security division. How are the observers performing after learning the new breathing technique?¡±

    The White Observers were the sword and shield protecting the order of the White City, Shirin.

    ¡°The improvement is remarkable, as expected from Oscar Sage. For one, their mana regeneration rate has increased significantly. Their natural healing has improved so much that they wake up without feeling any fatigue. I can personally attest to this as well.¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡±

    Such improvement was highly encouraging.

    At that moment, the leader of the Observers spoke cautiously.

    ¡°But the technique is too effective. If the Blue Tower were to obtain it¡­ the consequences are unimaginable.¡±

    ¡°Of course, security must be a top priority.¡±

    The vice master smiled gently, ncing around the hall.

    ¡°But there¡¯s no need to worry too much. Oscar Sage isn¡¯t one to be careless.¡±

    ¡°Does that mean¡­?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. The breathing technique has an unknown security spell woven into it. We haven¡¯t deciphered its effects yet...¡±

    For now, that part could wait.

    After a moment of thought, the vice master added:

    ¡°Hmm. Since Elder Schwein is still in seclusion, perhaps we should consult another mage well-versed in theoretical magic.¡±

    A theoretical magic expert of the White Tower.

    At that thought, one name came to everyone¡¯s mind¡ªa name that wasn¡¯t a coincidence.

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    Chapter 61: The City of Dreamers (1)

    Unsurprisingly, the next agenda item was about thergest and most prominent department in the White Tower.

    Lena White began her exnation, presenting data on sales and revenue for each city.

    ¡°...The total revenue for the potion department this month is 37 million Bels. Of that, treatments and vines for the Cadena Flu ount for only 11%, and it is projected to drop into single digits starting next month.¡±

    A collective sigh of relief swept through the conference room.

    If the White Tower had failed to establish a foothold in the potion market, this month would have marked the end of their ie stream.

    ¡°Make sure the forms for Cadena Flu-rted medicines are properly documented and stored. We need to be prepared for any future outbreaks.¡±

    ¡°Understood.¡±

    ¡°Are there any other issues?¡±

    ¡°...There¡¯s been a flood of requests for additional mages to be assigned to potion manufacturing.¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡±

    Ordinarily, such requests could be resolved by reassigning idle mages to the department.

    But in the struggling White Tower, there were no idle mages lounging around.

    All mages of Level 4 and above were already assigned to various departments.

    In other words, there were no avable mages who could immediately be deployed.

    ¡°Can¡¯t we resolve this by recruiting arge number of graduates from the Academy early next year?¡±

    ¡°Most Academy graduates are Level 3. To deploy them to any department, they need to be at least Level 4, so we¡¯d have to wait at least one or two years. It¡¯s hard to consider them ready-for-action resources.¡±

    Her point was valid.

    The potion department urgently needed Level 4 or higher mages.

    Moreover, the White Tower was struggling to recruit high-quality mages, a problem worsening with each passing year.

    The stigma of being a "fallen magic tower" was hard to shake.

    ¡°True. There should be some kind of merit to joining the White Tower, but right now, there isn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. Just a few years ago, the prestige of being one of the ¡®Four Great Magic Towers¡¯ attracted many talented individuals¡­¡±

    But as word spread about the tower¡¯s hollow core, talented mages stoppeding.

    The delivery department, too, was a significant reason many avoided the White Tower.

    Instead of focusing on magic research, they were often sent out to make deliveries.

    ¡°...Level 4 mages who are ready for immediate deployment. Let¡¯s brainstorm solutions for this.¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master gave Lena White a nod before turning his attention to the delivery department.

    ¡°How is the delivery department faring these days?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t even get me started.¡±

    Level 6 mage Pedro X shook his head in dismay.

    ¡°We¡¯re reaching our limit in cating the mages. They keep asking when their assignments will be changed.¡±

    ¡°The same issue there? This is getting serious.¡±

    As Fidelina furrowed her elegant brows, Maxim tilted his head curiously.

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t the delivery department usually quiet? Why the sudden uproar?¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it obvious? It¡¯s because of the potion department,¡±

    Fidelina replied with a pout.

    Until recently, the delivery department mages hadn¡¯t caused much trouble.

    The reason for their recent discontent was simple.

    ¡°Delivering goods or letters isn¡¯t exactly easy. It¡¯s physically and mentally taxing. Previously, Level 4 mages took turns handling deliveries¡­ but since the potion department emerged, the roles became fixed.¡±

    ¡°Why not rotate mages between the potion and delivery departments regrly?¡±

    ¡°That was the original n.¡±

    The problem was that the potion department had grown explosively in a short period.

    The potion department was now generating over 30 million Bels in monthly revenue.

    This meant an ever-growing demand for potion production.

    ¡°The potion market is extremely sensitive to quality. It¡¯s literally a matter of life and death.¡±

    Reassigning skilled potion-making mages to delivery duties and entrusting potion-making to novices?

    Unthinkable.

    It would shatter the White Tower¡¯s potion market share in no time.

    ¡°Of course, Oscar¡¯s excellent work yed a big role, but the timing of our market entry was also perfect. We can¡¯t afford to squander this golden opportunity.¡±

    At the same time, it wasn¡¯t feasible to force indefinite sacrifices on the delivery department mages.

    After all, they didn¡¯t join the White Tower to spend their lives making deliveries.

    ¡°Sigh.¡±

    ¡°Haa.¡±

    Faced with a problem that seemed unsolvable, the room was filled with sighs.

    p, p!

    The Deputy Tower Master pped his hands, breaking the gloomy atmosphere.

    ¡°We¡¯ll think further on the positions of both the potion and delivery departments ande up with a solution that satisfies everyone. Also, let¡¯s consider what merits the White Tower can offer to attract new mages.¡±

    ¡°Merits, huh¡­¡±

    The short-term goal of Academy graduates was clear: growth. N?v(el)B\\jnn

    Specifically, bing a Level 4 intermediate mage.

    But that wasn¡¯t something achievable through a curriculum alone.

    As everyone pondered, Maxim broke the silence.

    ¡°Now that December is ending¡­ that day is approaching, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Yes, it is.¡±

    Everyone seemed to share the same thought, their expressions firm with determination.

    Maxim turned to the head of the delivery department.

    ¡°Has the El Terra Church made their usual request this year?¡±

    ¡°Yes, they¡¯ve offered an increased payment of 5 million Belspared tost year.¡±

    Even with the potion department¡¯s sess, 5 million Bels was no small sum.

    That amount was their fee for a single day of work.

    Pedro X, the delivery department head, spoke solemnly.

    ¡°Everyone, prepare yourselves.¡±

    December 25 was one of the Church¡¯smemorative days: Christmas.

    On that day, White Tower couriers donned red robes and delivered gifts to good children.

    ¡°Oh, and the Vince Territory made a special request this year.¡±

    A special request from Vince Territory?

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    Though the details weren¡¯t fully disclosed, everyone seemed to have a hunch.

    ¡°Is it a request for Oscar?¡±

    ¡°Yes. They said they wanted to express their gratitude for his efforts during the Cadena Flu crisis.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll be a good experience for him. What do you think, Deputy Tower Master?¡±

    After some thought, he nodded.

    ¡°There doesn¡¯t seem to be any danger, so it should be fine. Let¡¯s work closely with the El Terra Church to ensure this year¡¯s Christmas goes smoothly. What¡¯s the next agenda item?¡±

    Fidelina cautiously opened her mouth.

    ¡°Other magic towers are starting to see Level 4 graduates among this year¡¯s Academy ss.¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡±

    This wasn¡¯t something the Deputy Tower Master and elders could ignore.

    But when it came to growth, they refrained from exerting pressure.

    Because this was the White Tower.

    ¡®We still don¡¯t even have a proper curriculum or textbook for beginner mages¡­¡¯

    The Deputy Tower Master and the elders were in positions where they couldn¡¯t ignore such matters.

    However, they had always tried not to show any signs of interference regarding growth.

    Because this was the White Tower.

    Over the past decade or so, they had made continuous efforts, but the results wereckluster, and attempts kept being abandoned.

    This year, Oscar¡¯s ¡°Reinterpretation of Basic Magic¡± had been an unprecedented hit, but whether he would take on the same lecture again next year was uncertain.

    The Deputy Tower Master let out a deep sigh.

    "How is this year¡¯s ss at our magic tower faring?"

    "The most skilled one is Damian Proud, but even he is still at level 3. From what I see, his mana circuits have not yet fully stabilized."

    Maxim''s answer was followed by Fidelina.

    "Even so, with Oscar personally taking charge of their education, isn¡¯t there a chance a few of them might reach level 4 by the end of the training camp?"

    "Of course, we know that guy has a natural talent for teaching others¡­"

    Maxim shook his head skeptically.

    "It¡¯s about turning novice mages into intermediate ones. If it were as easy as churning out bread from a factory, the White Tower wouldn¡¯t have struggled every year to recruit mages."

    "¡­That¡¯s true. Now that you mention it, hasn¡¯t it already been three weeks since the training camp started?"

    Three weeks.

    In truth, there had never been a training camp conducted for so long within the magic tower rather than outside of it.

    "What on earth are they doing at the campus?"

    "No idea. How could we possibly know what¡¯s going on in that guy¡¯s head?"

    That afternoon, as everyone¡¯s curiosity grew, the protagonists of the rumors emerged from the 36th floor,pleting their training camp.

    * * *

    Their posture was different.

    It was a phrase often used to express awe toward knights who disyed skills far superior to their peers.

    So, what would be the equivalent phrase for mages?

    The answer was: ¡°Their gaze is different.¡±

    "¡­Hmm?"

    Maxim and Fidelina, who had just stepped off the mana elevator to visit the Deputy Tower Master¡¯s office, were startled.

    The hallway was crowded with Oscar and the level-3 novice mages who had been training on the 36th floor.

    ¡®So, they¡¯re still just novices.¡¯

    ¡®Look at how quickly they showed up after we mentioned them during the meeting. How cute.¡¯

    Seeing the budding talents who would shoulder the future of the magic tower, the two elders couldn¡¯t help but smile faintly.

    But only for a moment¡ªMaxim tilted his head as he noticed the leading mage.

    ¡®Wait a moment, Damian¡¯s gaze¡­ has deepened?¡¯

    After a brief observation, he broke into a wide smile and offered his congrattions.

    "Damian Proud, what an impressive achievement! Congrattions on bing an intermediate mage."

    "Thank you, Elder."

    "And¡­ huh?"

    But the moment he turned to look at the child next to Damian, his head tilted again.

    ¡®Benjamin Scott, this child¡¯s gaze¡­ has also deepened?¡¯

    Could this really be happening?

    Smiling even more brightly, he grabbed Benjamin¡¯s hands with both of his own.

    "Well done! You¡¯ve done so well! To think you, too, have be an intermediate mage!"

    "Thank you. It¡¯s all thanks to Instructor Oscar¡¯s excellent teaching."

    "Instructor?"

    Not senior?

    Before Maxim could voice that question, Fidelina suddenly let out a scream from behind.

    "Eek!"

    "What is it?"

    "You, you¡­ can¡¯t you see the state the kids are in?"

    "Of course I can. Especially Damian and Benjamin¡­"

    It was only then, after ncing at the other children, that Maxim¡¯s face grew increasingly rigid.

    ¡®Cale, Sylvia, Tofre¡­ even Amy?¡¯

    Every single one of them.

    Not a single child was an exception.

    All their gazes had deepened.

    Just as he was struggling to make sense of this unbelievable situation, the door to the Deputy Tower Master¡¯s office opened, and Hamel Grimwiz stepped out.

    "Why is the hallway so noisy¡­ No, why is everyone gathered here?"

    "Greetings, Deputy Tower Master."

    Oscar opened his mouth, followed by a chorus of 32 voices.

    "Greetings, Deputy Tower Master!"

    "¡­"

    It felt a bit like looking at the mages of the Red Tower, who were known for their military-like discipline.

    He had brought them to a training camp and turned them into soldiers.

    With a slightly perplexed expression, the Deputy Tower Master listened as Oscar, both lecturer and training instructor, made his report.

    "All 32 participants of the Reinterpretation of Basic Magic course have sessfully advanced to level 4 and returned from the training camp."

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 Chapter 62

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    Chapter 62: The City of Dreamers (2)

    ¡°...Oscar¡¯s breathing techniquebined with potions for artificial stabilization of the mana circuit, you say?¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master, who was being briefed on the results of the training camp, couldn¡¯t hide his astonishment.

    He immediately recognized the immense value of this training method.

    ¡°My goodness. If this is announced, it willpletely elevate the status of the White Tower.¡±

    ¡°Status, indeed. That¡¯s true.¡±

    Maxim, grasping the significance of the matter, stared at Oscar with a look of awe.

    ¡®It took Oscar just two days to discover this breathing technique and incorporate it into the training camp.¡¯

    In other words, he managed to devise the ultimate training method utilizing a new breathing technique in a mere two days¡ªa testament to his genius analytical and application skills as a theoretical mage.

    ¡°At this rate, he might even unravel the security spells embedded in the breathing technique soon.¡±

    ¡°Security spells? Oh, right.¡±

    Oscar nodded, recalling the strong opposition he had faced from his subordinates right after creating the breathing technique.

    ¡®They insisted it couldn¡¯t be taught to mages as it was and demanded that security measures be implemented.¡¯

    In the end, he epted their suggestion and added several security spells to finalize the technique.

    It wasn¡¯t a particrly challenging task for him.

    After organizing his thoughts, Oscar spoke up.

    ¡°I¡¯ve already identified some of the security-rted spells. I¡¯ll submit a formal report on them soon.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master gave him a look filled with affection.

    At that moment, Fidelina, who had been unusually quiet, finally spoke up.

    ¡°...I hesitate to say this, but the mages we recruited this year weren¡¯t particrly talented.¡±

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s hard to deny.¡±

    ¡°But the fact is, every single one of them achieved a Level 4 promotion within a year of joining the tower.¡±

    This was an extraordinarily rare feat, even when considering the long history of the various magic towers.

    Such a rapid advancement was only feasible during the heyday of the White Tower, when the continent¡¯s prodigies flocked to it.

    This could mean only one thing.

    ¡°This gives us a powerful advantage to attract academy graduates during future recruitments.¡±

    The White Tower could now advertise: Regardless of talent, we can promote you to Level 4 faster than any other magic tower!

    What Level 3 mage wouldn¡¯t be tempted by such an offer?

    ¡°It¡¯s an unfortunate reality, but to the so-called geniuses of the academy, the White Tower isn¡¯t even considered an option right now.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s true.¡±

    Their ultimate goal was to join one of the Four Great Towers, excluding the White Tower.

    But what about mages who weren¡¯t prodigies?

    ¡°The Blood Tower? Not bad. The ck Tower? Sure, they¡¯ve been making waves. But neither of them is one of the Four Great Towers, right?¡±

    Thanks to the recent sess of the potion business, perceptions of the White Tower had already improved significantlypared to the beginning of the year.

    Now, adding the advantage of rapid advancement to Level 4 would further enhance theirpetitiveness.

    ¡°Next year, we¡¯ll likely be able to recruit more mages than this year.¡±

    And their talent level would undoubtedly be higher as well.

    This was the result Oscar had brought back after three weeks of training camp.

    ¡°The best part is that this promotional strategy is exclusive to the White Tower. No other tower can replicate it. Why? Because they don¡¯t have Oscar¡¯s breathing technique!¡±

    ¡°Hah, the Blue Tower is going to be envious.¡±

    ¡°Envious? They¡¯ll be absolutely furious.¡±

    While the two elders chuckled and envisioned a bright future, the Deputy Tower Master casually addressed Oscar.

    ¡°Oscar, do you happen to know what December 25th is?¡±

    ¡°Come on, even with my amnesia, I know that much.¡±

    December 25th.

    It was both a holiday of the El Terra Church and a public holiday in the Empire.

    ¡°Christmas. It¡¯s the birthday of the goddess¡¯s first apostle, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    The Apostle Chris Luther.

    He had spread the teachings of the goddess, founded the church, and became its first pope.

    He dered his birthday as Christmas and established it as a day of celebration, one spent joyously with family, friends, and loved ones.

    ¡°Correct. But do you also know what the White Tower does on Christmas?¡±

    ¡°...Singing songs and eating cake? Oh! Or maybe a gift exchange?¡±

    ¡°Not quite.¡±

    Judging by the Deputy Tower Master¡¯s amused expression, it seemed Oscar had guessed wrong.

    ¡®Then what is it?¡¯

    As far as he knew, there was no connection between the White Tower and Christmas.

    After all, it was a church holiday.

    Seeing Oscar¡¯s puzzled expression, the Deputy Tower Master began to exin.

    ¡°After the war with the demons ended, when the White Tower was struggling to generate any revenue, the church reached out with an offer of coboration.¡±

    ¡°Coboration?¡±

    ¡°Yes, and that¡¯s the origin of the White Tower¡¯s Christmas duties, which have continued for over a decade.¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master¡¯s lips curled into a yful smile.

    ¡°Our job is to y Santa us.¡±

    ¡°Santa us? You mean the old man with the fluffy beard and red suit?¡±

    ¡°Exactly. The symbol of Christmas who delivers presents to good children.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡±

    Hearing this, Oscar began to piece together what the task might entail.

    In short, it meant donning a Santa suit, putting on a fake beard, and delivering gifts.

    ¡°The church probably proposed this because we¡¯re so adept at flying through the sky.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. There¡¯s no one on the continent better at aerial travel than the mages of the White Tower.¡±

    Still, a question lingered in his mind.

    ¡°...But it¡¯s impossible for White Tower mages alone to deliver presents to all the children on such a vast continent, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Of course it¡¯s impossible. But we do our best to reach as many cities and children as we can. That¡¯s why, while Christmas is a holiday for most people, for us, it¡¯s one of the busiest days of the year.¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master handed Oscar a brief document.

    ¡°As you can see from this chart, the number of mages assigned depends on the size of the city.¡±

    ¡°...This is real?¡±

    Only one mage was assigned in a mountain vige with a poption of 500.

    ording to the data, children made up an average of 34% of the poption.

    ¡®So in a town of 500, there would be around 170 children.¡¯

    Delivering gifts to all of them in one night would be an overwhelming task for a single person.

    As Oscar¡¯s expression grew tense, Maxim shrugged.

    ¡°That¡¯s why everyone gets a bit touchy around this time of year. But thanks to you, we¡¯ve added 32 more Level 4 mages this year, so it¡¯ll be a bit easier thanst year.¡±

    Hearing this, Oscar let out a sigh of relief.

    ¡°I almost forgot. Official tower duties start at Level 4, don¡¯t they?¡±

    For novice mages, the primary goal was to reach Level 4 and be intermediate mages.

    In other words, whether this Christmas was hectic or not had nothing to do with him, as he was still Level 3.

    However, his relief was short-lived as the Deputy Tower Master continued speaking.

    "Usually, that would be the case."

    Usually?

    What? Why does that word feel as prickly and unsettling as a thorn on the tongue?

    Oscar''s sharp intuition didn''t fail him this time either.

    "This year, the lord of Vince made a special request. Specifically, he requested that you, Oscar, be included in the group of dispatched mages."

    "From Vince?"

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    Wasn''t that the ce where he was the first to distribute the treatment for the Cadena flu?

    The lord of Vince really has no sense of propriety.

    Repaying a favor like this, as if it''s a grudge...

    "He mentioned wanting to repay the favor from the Cadena flu incident and insisted on meeting you to express his gratitude this time."

    "I''m fine with just a heartfelt thanks."

    "Ha ha, my apologies, but the request has already been epted. I thought it would be a good experience for you."

    "¡­¡­."

    Ah, so they never intended to ask for his opinion in the first ce.

    Oscar, his eyes drooping in resignation, finally opened his mouth.

    "Vince''s poption is about 5,000, correct?"

    "You remember correctly. And that''s why we''re sending eleven mages to Vince this time."

    "Wait, eleven? I thought it would be ten."

    At that, the Tower Master smiled gently.

    "I know your abilities are remarkable, but you''re not yet ready to fully take on Level 4 responsibilities. Besides, since the lord of Vince specifically requested you, it''s more likely you''ll spend your time at the manor being treated as an honored guest rather than being tasked with the same duties as the others."

    "Ah, I see."

    So there was no need to be so apprehensive.

    In short, it sounded like he just had to go on a trip, receive some gratitude and gifts, and return.

    "Then I don''t really need to prepare anything, do I?"

    "No, probably not. When you arrive in Vince, you¡¯ll likely just have a conversation with the lord and assist with a simple event held at the manor."

    That doesn¡¯t sound too bad.

    Oscar nodded.

    "Understood. When is the departure?"

    "Three days from now, at 8 a.m. I heard they''ll be sending a separate vehicle from Vince."

    "Oh, a car¡­"

    Correction.

    The lord of Vince clearly understands what gratitude means.

    As the conversation wrapped up, Fidelina made sure to express her thanks.

    "Oh, and regarding the contributions you''ve made this time, the Magic Tower will reward you separately, so you can look forward to that."

    It wasn¡¯t like he shared his training method expecting a reward, but there was no reason to refuse it if they were offering.

    "Understood."

    * * *

    Three dayster.

    At 8 a.m., when the winter sun was sluggishly crawling up the sky, over a hundred carriages lined up at the entrance of the White Magic Tower.

    "To Knox! Those heading to Knox Territory, pleasee this way!"

    "One person hasn¡¯t boarded the Melbourne-bound carriage! We¡¯re departing soon, so please hurry!"

    "Excuse me, sir. As cute as they are, please don¡¯t feed the horses without permission."

    The scene was so lively that it could easily be mistaken for a bustling marketce rather than the entrance to the Magic Tower.

    "Excuse me, are you perhaps Wizard Oscar Crucian?"

    Oscar turned to look at the neatly dressed gentleman approaching him and nodded.

    "Yes, I am. And you are?"

    "I¡¯ll be your driver for the next few days. Please, call me Bill."

    "Nice to meet you, Bill."

    "Then let me escort you to the vehicle."

    Following him to the prepared vehicle, Oscar¡¯s eyes widened.

    What is this?

    The vehicle was at least 1.5 times bigger than the taxi he had ridden before.

    However, it wasn¡¯t crude or clunky; the elegant curved design gave off a refined and sophisticated vibe.

    If an ordinary taxi was akin to a wyvern, this was like a dragon exuding sheer majesty.

    "Hey, isn¡¯t that a Starlight?"

    "Looking at the grille, I think it is. And it seems to be thetest Series 3."

    "It¡¯s like looking at a work of art. Riding in something like this would be a dreame true."

    "Keep dreaming. A single one of these costs over 2 million bells."

    "¡­That expensive? A regr worker would have to save every penny for 50 years to afford one."

    "Of course. Do you know how many enchantments this thing has?"

    Around the vehicle, mages gathered like curious onlookers, drooling over the majestic carriage.

    "Excuse us,ing through,"

    Bill said softly, pping his hands.

    The rear door opened automatically.

    "Please, step in."

    "¡­"

    Mesmerized, Oscar got in.

    Once seated, Bill, now at the driver¡¯s seat, spoke.

    "Please don¡¯t be rmed."

    As he said that, a smooth belt wrapped snugly around Oscar.

    "Thetest technology¡­?"

    "Haha. This is one of the top three luxury VIP vehicles in existence today."

    At this point, there was no denying it.

    This was on a whole different level from ordinary carriages, and evenparing it to taxis felt insulting.

    Cars are amazing¡­

    Even while seated, there was enough headroom to fit three fists stacked atop each other.

    Moreover, the ceiling embedded with countless jewels sparkled like stars.

    When he stretched out his legs, the seat automatically adjusted, reclining slightly to support his body.

    "Ah¡­"

    As he marveled, the vehicle smoothly began moving.

    There wasn¡¯t the slightest jolt; it was perfectly stable and silent.

    "I overheard the mages earlier. Does this vehicle have enchantments as well?"

    "Yes. It¡¯s equipped with numerous safety spells like shields and shock absorption, along with magic for weight reduction, energy efficiency, and speed enhancement."

    In short, the massive vehicle itself was essentially a magical artifact.

    Unfortunately, the enchanting experience ended after a mere 12 hours.

    "I¡¯ve been waiting! I am Pieta Vince, lord of Vince!"

    A portly middle-aged man with a weing smile at the mansion greeted them.

    Despite being a stranger, his eyes radiated warmth and friendliness.

    "I¡¯ve long wanted to repay the favor of saving our territory, and I¡¯m d to finally do so!"

    "I only did what I ought to. On the contrary, I must thank you for inviting me."n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    "Did you have afortable trip?"

    The lord asked as they walked through the grand mansion.

    "Yes, thanks to the vehicle you sent, the time passed in no time."

    "Haha! I¡¯m d it suited your tastes. I was worried it might not be to your liking."

    "Of course not."

    "Please continue to use it moving forward."

    "¡­?"

    Stopping in his tracks, Oscar asked,

    "Moving forward? What do you mean by that?"

    "Oh, didn¡¯t Bill exin? That vehicle is my Christmas gift to you."

    "¡­."

    Once again, correction.

    The lord of Vince was not just someone who understood gratitude but was truly a saint of this era.

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 Chapter 63

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    Chapter 63: City of Dreamers (3)

    Vince, a hignd city in the northwest of the empire.

    It is often called a natural fortress, and for a good reason.

    The city is situated atop a high mountain, with towering walls that make it exceptionally advantageous for defense.

    ¡®In fact, this ce held out for half a year against the demon army without any reinforcements.¡¯

    Thus, it was a location that could not be overlooked.

    For the demons, there were only three possible routes to infiltrate the western empire:

    Using the western sea, crossing the vast Desert of Death, or breaching Vince in the north and taking the smoothnd routes beyond.

    ¡®Back then, the poption was around 5,000, so the demons probably underestimated it.¡¯

    But Vince managed to endure for six months, holding the fortress until imperial reinforcements arrived.

    ¡®This is my first time actually visiting this ce.¡¯

    During the war, he had only heard rumors of a reliable fortress in the northwest.

    He had been too upied defending the frontlines to visit.

    ¡°Allow me to formally express my gratitude.¡±

    In the reception room of the Vince estate, Pieta Vince bowed his head as he served avish spread of tea and refreshments.

    ¡°If it weren¡¯t for you, Lord Oscar, the people of my domain, including myself, would have surely¡­¡±

    He shuddered, recalling the harrowing memory of the Cadena Flu outbreak.

    ¡°We would all be dead.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fortunate that such a dreadful scenario was avoided,¡±

    Oscar replied with a soft smile, sipping his coffee.

    ¡°Otherwise, I wouldn¡¯t be enjoying this delicious coffee here today.¡±

    ¡°Haha! That¡¯s true.¡±

    The lord of Vince seemed visibly relieved, as though a lingering burden had been lifted.

    ¡°From the moment we received the cure and vine, I¡¯ve been meaning to express my thanks. However, I must apologize for the dy¡ªit took us this long to recover and extend this invitation.¡±

    ¡°No need for apologies. But ¡®recover,¡¯ you say?¡±

    ¡°Ah, well¡­¡±

    Realizing his slip of the tongue, the lord hesitated briefly before continuing.

    ¡°Well, considering it¡¯s you, Lord Oscar, a genius in alchemy, you likely already know more than I do. But as you¡¯re aware, the Cadena Flu is a type of virus.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s correct.¡±

    ¡°After the flu swept through, we conducted an epidemiological investigation.¡±

    An epidemiological investigation involves tracking the movements of those infected and identifying their contacts.

    ¡°To determine how the Cadena Flu first entered the city.¡±

    ¡°Precisely. Since it has already urred once, we wanted to resolve it thoroughly to prevent a second outbreak. But¡­ there¡¯s no initial carrier.¡±

    What?

    Oscar tilted his head, failing to grasp the meaning.

    ¡°No carrier? What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Exactly what I said. The first reported case of Cadena Flu symptoms was an elderly woman living alone on the outskirts of the city. She has no family, no caregivers, and except for her monthly trips to the market, she has no contact with anyone.¡±

    ¡°Could she have contracted it through contact with others at the market?¡±

    ¡°Considering the flu¡¯s onset timeline, that possibility is ruled out as well.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Oscar¡¯s eyes narrowed.

    If what he heard was true, it was as though the Cadena Flu had simply appeared out of thin air.

    ¡°There are three possible exnations.¡±

    The first: the Cadena Flu originated naturally in the old woman¡¯s home.

    But this was far-fetched.

    The odds were practically zero.

    ¡®Influenza viruses already exist in nature, spreading via human or animal hosts through cross-species transmission. They don¡¯t just spontaneously appear in isted locations.¡¯

    The second possibility: the woman had contracted the Cadena Flu long ago, and it had only recently manifested.

    However, this was equally unlikely.

    The Cadena Flu, ssified as a B-level hazard, is notorious for its rapid transmission and quick onset of symptoms.

    ¡®Which leaves the final option as the truth.¡¯

    If that were the case, things were far more serious.

    Oscar¡¯s expression grew solemn as he cautiously spoke.

    ¡°You suspect the involvement of a third party, don¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°...That¡¯s what it seems. The flu didn¡¯t just fall from the sky; someone must have intentionally spread it.¡±

    If true, this was a clear act of terrorism¡ªa heinous biochemical attack that could have nketed the city in death.

    ¡°Do you have any suspects?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the problem¡ªwe don¡¯t.¡±

    The lord of Vince sighed heavily.

    ¡°As you know, our territory is perched atop the northwest mountains. Though famous as a natural fortress, it¡¯s also an isted location. Even the nearest major city, Sirin, is over 10 hours away by carriage.¡±

    ¡°True.¡±

    ¡°Because of that, our family rarely attends social gatherings. We¡¯ve only made acquaintances with a handful of nobles, and we certainly don¡¯t have any deep grudges.¡±

    ¡°Hm. What about the first patient, the old woman? What kind of person was she?¡±

    ¡°We thoroughly investigated her as well. She was an ordinary citizen¡ªa native of this city, born and raised here, with no criminal record.¡±

    If neither the noble family nor the first patient had enemies, the purpose of this indiscriminate attack became clear:

    ¡°The destruction of Vince itself.¡±

    In that case, who stood to gain the most from Vince¡¯s downfall?

    As the thought crossed his mind, one name surfaced.

    ¡°...The demons?¡±

    ¡°Pardon? Haha!¡±

    Pieta Vince burst intoughter as though he had just heard a ridiculous joke.

    ¡°That¡¯s quite the grim sense of humor, Lord Oscar. Why do you think that?¡±

    ¡°I heard that Vince yed a pivotal role in the war against the demons in the past.¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes. Myte father proudly boasted of it until his final days. But demons, you say? Haven¡¯t they disappeared entirely since the war ended?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s never a bad idea to prepare.¡±

    At this, Pieta Vince shook his head skeptically.

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    ¡°Well, it¡¯s said that after the death of their emperor¡ªtheir spiritual leader and unifying force¡ªthe demons fought among themselves for his position. No matter who emerged victorious, they would no longer be as threatening. And indeed, they¡¯ve been quiet for the past 20 years.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Internal strife, huh.

    It was indeed usible, considering the nature and behavior of the demons.

    They wouldn¡¯t bow under anyone but the Demon Emperor, after all.

    Was he thinking about them because he was too war-weary?

    Acknowledging his mistake, Oscar nodded.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

    ¡°I see. My apologies for bringing it up.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing. I¡¯ve heard that mages have vivid imaginations, and seeing you, Oscar, I can tell it¡¯s true. The atmosphere feels a bit heavy, so let¡¯s talk about something lighter and more positive. Oh! I heard you aplished great things on Baran¡¯s side¡ªcould you share some of your exploits?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re hardly grand enough to call exploits, but if you wish.¡±

    Lord Vince awkwardly broached the main topic as the conversation lightened for a while.

    ¡°Oh dear, look at the time. I¡¯m afraid I¡¯ve kept you for too long because I was so d to have you.¡±

    ¡°Not at all. It¡¯s been a pleasant and enlightening time for me as well.¡±

    ¡°Haha, I¡¯m d you think so. Please, rest well and enjoy the winter in Vince while you¡¯re here. My butler will guide you to your room.¡±

    As the door to the parlor opened, an elderly man with a kindly demeanor appeared.

    Following him, Oscar was guided to an annex.

    ¡°Bill will always be on standby with the vehicle, except during early hours, so feel free to go out anytime. However, no stores, except inns, will be open on Christmas Day. Let me know if you need anything in advance.¡±

    ¡°Understood.¡±

    ¡°Additionally, the other mages from the White Tower will be arriving shortly. This annex is exclusively for the White Tower, so please use it as if it¡¯s your own home.¡±

    To think he¡¯d be given an entire two-story annex.

    Entering, Oscar went upstairs to choose a room that suited him best.

    This one seems nice.

    At the end of the hallway, the room had a window overlooking the entire city.

    As he approached the window, he could see people brimming with excitement in the snowy streets below.

    Families seemed to be the most prominent, likely due to the uing Christmas festivities.

    What a lovely city vibe.

    The sight warmed his heart, and he stared at it for quite a while.

    ¡°Oh, I thought this room looked the best...¡±

    Suddenly, the door opened, and someone entered.

    Oscar turned slowly to see the intruder, his eyes slightly widening in surprise.

    ¡°Veronica?¡±

    ¡°What the... Why are you here?¡±

    ¡°Lord Vince invited me. He wanted to express his gratitude for helping during the Cadena epidemic. And you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m here for Christmas delivery duties...¡±

    Her gaze lingered wistfully on the room that seemed to captivate her.

    ¡°Were you nning to take this room?¡±

    ¡°Why? Do you like it?¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    Her lips moved as though she wanted to say something but didn¡¯t.

    Still as straightforward as ever, I see.

    This was a time for the adult to step up.

    Shrugging, Oscar said,

    ¡°If you want it, it¡¯s yours.¡±

    ¡°Really!?¡±

    Her voice rose for a moment, but she quickly collected herself, seemingly embarrassed, and asked again.

    ¡°Are you serious?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. There are plenty of rooms left anyway.¡±

    Although he had initially liked this room, he changed his mind after looking around.

    Seeing the warm streets below had softened his heart, making him feel at peace and even a little sleepy.

    ¡°You take it.¡±

    As Oscar left the room, Veronica stared at the door he had exited through for a long while.

    ...Did he just give it up?

    The Oscar she knew?

    Wasn¡¯t he the most selfish person in the White Tower¡ªno, among all four Great Towers?

    For him to so willingly give up his room was hard to believe as a pure act of kindness.

    Though, based on what happened at the power nt, he did seem a bit more mellow these days...

    But could people really change overnight?

    Still suspicious, she eyed the door and muttered under her breath.

    ¡°Does he... like me or something?¡±

    * * *

    Under the fluffy, falling snow that night,

    at a remote outpost in the Red Mountains, a soldier urgently shouted into amunicator.

    ¡°This is B-102! I repeat, this is B-10... Ugh!¡±

    A sharp de pierced through his chest from behind.

    As the light faded from the soldier¡¯s eyes, he copsed, and a figure with horns on its head spoke.

    ¡°Baron, it¡¯s done.¡±

    ¡°Humans remain as weak as ever.¡±

    A middle-aged man wearing a gray fedora appeared with his hands sped behind his back, surveying the surroundings.

    ¡°To think we once lost to such trash. It¡¯sughable, even in hindsight.¡±

    Clicking his tongue, he sat in the deadmunicator¡¯s seat, crossed his legs, and gazed at the horizon¡¯s edge where mountains loomed.

    ¡°Vince...¡±

    The natural fortress that had been the greatest obstacle during their invasion of humannds.

    A faint smirk crept up one corner of his lips as he stared at it.

    ¡°Tonight, I shall grant you the sweetest of dreams.¡±

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 Chapter 64

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    Chapter 64: City of Dreamers (4)

    ¡°Ah, damn it.¡±

    Oscar groaned.

    So that¡¯s why he had this drowsy feeling...

    It was another dream.

    Despite giving up his room to Veronica to avoid falling asleep, he had dozed off anyway.

    Well, he hadn¡¯t had proper rest in a long time.

    Thest time he got any real sleep was when he passed out in Baran City.

    Since then, he¡¯d endured an intense training camp, where sleep was nearly nonexistent.

    All he managed was 30 minutes of meditation each day¡ªnaturally, the fatigue had built up.

    But this ce...

    Oscar narrowed his eyes as he scanned his surroundings.

    Whaty before him was a remote mountain vige¡ªor, more urately, the ruins of what had been a vige.

    ¡°...¡±

    Crackling mes roared as a massive fire consumed the entire vige.

    The acrid stench of smoke, the sickening smell of charred flesh, and the metallic tang of blood filled the air.

    Magiro Wilson, the brain of the White Tower, approached, shaking his head grimly.

    ¡°This is horrific. Judging by the methods and traces, it¡¯s the demons'' work.¡±

    Of course, it had to be.

    Even in this twisted world, there were few who would ughter a vige on this scale, save for the demons.

    ¡°Any survivors?¡±

    ¡°...None.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t the first time Oscar had seen a vige reduced to ruins, but this time it felt worse than usual.

    Because just a few weeks ago, they had visited this very vige.

    The demons¡¯ reconnaissance squad came here while they were staying.

    They had swiftly dealt with the demons and saved the vigers.

    He still vividly remembered the elderly vige chief sping his wrinkled hands in gratitude, tearfully vowing to honor the White Tower as their saviors forever.

    ¡°...Persistent bastards.¡±

    Once demons set their sights on a target, they never gave up.

    They would keep trying until they seeded.

    That relentless determination was something Oscar and the White Tower mages learned the hard way that day.

    They should¡¯ve evacuated them to a major city no matter what.

    He should have ignored them and forced an evacuation even if they had pleaded about this being their lifelong home.

    But he hadn¡¯t foreseen this oue.

    The weight of that misjudgment pressed heavily on his chest.

    ¡°...¡±

    Wearing a somber expression, Oscar turned his head.

    Slowly but surely, the corpses scattered around the vige began to rise and shuffle toward him.

    This, of course, wasn¡¯t something that had actually happened.

    ...A distorted dream.

    Oscar stared impassively at the horde of zombies stumbling his way.

    Among them was the vige chief, his deeply wrinkled hands still recognizable.

    * * *

    Morning came, and Oscar woke naturally.

    The clock read 6 a.m.

    He had slept for seven hours, yet he still felt drained.

    If anything, he felt even more exhausted.

    No wonder¡ªhe had spent the entire night in his dream battling magic-resistant zombies.

    After a quick wash, he stepped outside.

    The brisk morning air filled his lungs.

    ¡°Oh.¡±

    Snow must have fallen heavily overnight, as the world under the clear blue sky was nketed in white.

    Oscar took a moment to admire the pristine scene before walking down the snow-covered path.

    Crunch, crunch.

    Every step left tracks in the snow, giving him a strange mix of guilt and satisfaction.

    ¡°Hm?¡±

    Oscar tilted his head when he arrived at the garage.

    Bill, who was always there unless it was the crack of dawn, was nowhere to be seen.

    ...Does he sleep in often?

    Waking someone from a deep sleep felt rude, but waiting around felt awkward.

    He might as well run to the city for some exercise.

    The city at the bottom of the hill was about a 30-minute run away.

    He took off at a brisk pace, but it only took a few minutes for him to feel an inexplicable sense of unease.

    ¡°...¡±

    There was no one around.

    Even for the early morning, it was strange not to see a single soul.

    Picking up his pace, Oscar reached the city at full speed.

    ¡°Is anyone here?!¡±

    His voice echoed through the empty streets, but there was no reply.

    He was the only sound in the entire city.

    This is definitely...

    Something was wrong.

    His expression turned grim as he started searching the marketce frantically.

    Every shop was closed, the streets deserted, and even the square with the grand fountain was empty.

    ¡°Huff, huff.¡±

    After running around for a while, he finally found people at an inn.

    ¡°Hey! Are you okay?!¡±

    The inn¡¯s dining hall was packed with dozens of people, but all of them were slumped over, fast asleep.

    One person was even frozen mid-chew, a fork still in hand.

    ¡°Excuse me for a moment.¡±

    cing a hand on a man¡¯s head, Oscar channeled his magic and narrowed his eyes.

    ...It¡¯s magic.

    These people hadn¡¯t fallen asleep naturally.

    It was a spell.

    A spell so advanced that Oscar couldn¡¯t break it.

    Which means someone cast a spell on this entire city of over 5,000 people?

    At the very least, this kind of feat could only be pulled off by a high-level mage.

    But one question lingered in his mind.

    ¡®Why am I unaffected?¡¯

    True, he had been an Archmage in his previous life, but now he was merely a Level 3 novice mage.

    If a high-level mage had deliberately cast this spell, he shouldn¡¯t have been able to resist.

    ¡®That means...¡¯

    A special kind of magic¡ªsomething that had a connection to him.

    As Oscar''s thoughts began to approach a conclusion¡ª

    Creak, creak.

    The sound of someone walking outside the inn reached his ears. n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om

    Naturally, Oscar immediately hid behind the bar, suppressing both his mana and his presence.

    "Hmm?"

    Jingle, jingle.

    Soon, the small bell on the door jingled as someone entered the inn.

    "Strange. I could¡¯ve sworn I heard something from this direction."

    The voice belonged to a man with a rather light tone.

    Creak, creak.

    Each step he took caused the old floorboards to groan, echoing in the otherwise quiet space.

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    ¡®His stride is steady, and his center of gravity is bnced.¡¯

    This meant he was no ordinary person¡ªlikely a knight or a veteran mercenary.

    "Was it my imagination? Then again, there''s no way anyone could be awake right now."

    It was clear this person knew something about the current situation.

    ¡®I¡¯ll subdue him first and interrogate him afterward.¡¯

    The moment Oscar finished deliberating, his ring glimmered.

    ¡°What!?¡±

    At the same time, the man spun around, swinging his sword in a wide arc.

    However, the figure struck by the de dispersed into a faint mist.

    ¡°...An illusion!?¡±

    Realizing he had fallen into a trap, a powerful gust of wind erupted from behind, hurling him into a wall.

    Crash!

    With a loud noise, the man smashed through the wooden wall and tumbled into the snow-covered street, coughing up blood.

    ¡°Cough, cough! A mage? How... how are you still standing?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be the one asking questions.¡±

    Emerging through a hole in the wall, Oscar fixed him with a cold stare and asked,

    ¡°Answer me. What have you done to the people?¡±

    ¡°Keuk. Want to hear it?¡±

    The man staggered to his feet, letting out a sly chuckle.

    Seeing this, Oscar shook his head.

    ¡°No, forget it. It¡¯ll be easier to ask once you¡¯re subdued.¡±

    ¡°Hahaha! You must be feeling quite confident after one lucky ambush, huh...?¡±

    With a sinister grin, the man suddenly swung his sword.

    ¡°A mage who lets their guard down at this range deserves to die!¡±

    Sword aura?

    The de,ced faintly but unmistakably with magic, surged toward him.

    Judging by its pale glow, he¡¯s probably a level 4 user.

    Oscar initially prepared to deflect the attack with a Wind Shield, as he always did, but quickly revised his n.

    No matter how faint the aura, he knew better than anyone how devastating sword aura could be.

    Normally, evasion would be the right move¡­ but with the artifact his master left him, there¡¯s no need.

    Snatch!

    Oscar grabbed the iing de with his left hand.

    ¡°What? How¡­?¡±

    The man¡¯s eyes widened in disbelief, nearly popping out of their sockets.

    He quickly looked at Oscar¡¯s hand.

    Barehanded?

    Stopping sword aura with his bare hands and emerging unscathed?

    That could only mean one thing¡ªhis opponent was far more skilled than he was.

    Could he be a high-ranking mage?

    As rm bells rang in the man¡¯s head, Oscar murmured,

    ¡°The morning breeze is cold. It should be enough to cool your boiling killing intent.¡±

    ¡°...What?¡±

    ¡°Wind¡¯s Wrath.¡±

    Oscar¡¯s soft-spoken words rippled through the air.

    The man¡¯s eyes bulged as a blood-curdling scream tore from his throat.

    ¡°AAAAAAAHHHH!¡±

    This was the same spell Oscar had once used during Gordon¡¯s interrogation.

    A close-range technique that sent wind magic into the target¡¯s body, ripping them apart from the inside.

    Without a doubt, it delivered pain no ordinary human could endure.

    ¡°KAAAAHHH!¡±

    The man screamed so loudly it seemed his vocal cords might snap.

    Momentster, he trembled violently, begging,

    ¡°P-please... please, I beg you...¡±

    As the winds receded, Oscar looked down at the panting man and said,

    ¡°If you¡¯re ready to talk, nod your head.¡±

    ¡°K-Kuh... kuhk.¡±

    At first, the sound resembled sobbing, but it soon shifted intoughter.

    As Oscar¡¯s eyes narrowed, the man lifted his head andughed like a madman.

    ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡±

    ¡°Ha¡­ stupid bastard. You think I¡¯d talk? Just kill me. Nothing will change anyway.¡±

    ¡°......¡±

    He endured that torture?

    It wasn¡¯t something anyone could withstand with ordinary mental strength.

    In my experience, there are only two kinds of people who survive this.

    One was the truly strong, unshaken even with a de at their throat.

    The other was those so far gone their minds had already broken beyond repair.

    ¡®This guy¡¯s definitely thetter.¡¯

    Clenching his lips, Oscar grabbed the man by the cor and shook him.

    ¡°Answer me! What did you do to the people?¡±

    ¡°Haha, see this?¡±

    The man extended his pinky finger.

    As he infused it with mana, the finger turned ck.

    ¡°I¡¯m one of the ck Fingers.¡±

    ¡°...The ck Fingers?¡±

    Hearing an unfamiliar name, Oscar furrowed his brow.

    The man¡¯s eyes widened in mock surprise.

    ¡°Kekeke, so you¡¯re really just some clueless bumpkin. Listen carefully. We, the ck Fingers, are...¡±

    Leaning in, he whispered softly,

    ¡°...a group devoted to the Great Emperor.¡±

    ¡°...What?¡±

    The moment the word ¡°Great Emperor¡± escaped his lips, the air grew suffocating with a murderous aura.

    Oscar¡¯s eyes turned icy cold as he muttered under his breath.

    ¡°Who... did you say you worship?¡±

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 Chapter 65

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    Chapter 65: The City of Dreamers (5)

    ¡°Grr, are your ears plugged? The only one I follow is the Great Emperor¡­ Kuhek!¡±

    Oscar, his face devoid of emotion, pressed firmly on the neck of the man lying beneath him.

    A little more pressure, and the man''s neck would snap.

    ¡°¡­I¡¯ve seen enough of scum like you tost a lifetime.¡±

    There had been plenty of men like him during the war.

    People who were so terrified of the demons that they lost their sanity.

    Or opportunists, deceived by the sweet promises of the demons.

    Beasts in human skin who sold out theirrades without hesitation to save themselves.

    ¡®For example, scum like the ck Tower Lord of that era.¡¯

    Men whose betrayal left wounds that would never heal.

    Oscar remembered well.

    He remembered the countless people who had died for no reason, without meaning, because of such traitors.

    As their faces resurfaced in his mind, Oscar bit down hard on his lip.

    ¡®¡­But the war is over.¡¯

    This is a time of peace, isn¡¯t it?

    There¡¯s no longer a battlefield where humans fight demons.

    No longer any reason to betray yourrades just to survive.

    But why?

    Why do men like this still roam freely, wreaking havoc on innocent lives?n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

    ¡°Speak.¡±

    Summoning an almost superhuman patience to keep himself from identally killing the man, Oscar demanded:

    ¡°The Great Emperor is dead. So why follow someone who¡¯s no longer here?¡±

    ¡°Kuh, the Great Emperor was the strongest, the mostpassionate, and the most perfect of all beings. One day, he will return to this world. On that day, this filthy empire and humanity itself will perish. Only those like us, who followed him first, will be reborn as the new humanity.¡±

    ¡°¡­.¡±

    Oscar frowned at the man¡¯s blind faith.

    But something about his words stuck in his mind.

    ¡®¡­The Great Emperor will return?¡¯

    In the past, he would have dismissed it as nonsense.

    But now, he couldn¡¯t be so sure.

    After all, he himself hade back from the dead.

    ¡°What do you mean the Great Emperor will return?¡±

    ¡°Kuh, kuhuh¡­¡±

    The man raised one hand and stared at his ckened fingers in rapture.

    ¡°He will return. Without fail¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­.¡±

    Literal fanaticism.

    Unable to listen to any more nonsense, Oscar pressed down harder with his foot, growling:

    ¡°Fine. Tell me what you¡¯ve done to this city. Why won¡¯t the people wake up?¡±

    ¡°The people? Ah, have you ever heard of the Nightmare Baron?¡±

    ¡°¡­What?¡±

    Why that name here?

    The man snickered, noticing the flicker of recognition in Oscar¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°Judging by your expression, you know the name. He¡¯s the one who put the entire city to sleep. By the time today ends, all of them will likely¡­¡±

    Crack!

    Oscar crushed the man¡¯s neck and swiftly turned away.

    He had no time to waste on further conversation.

    ¡®The Nightmare Baron. If he¡¯s the one behind this mess, everything makes sense.¡¯

    Why he alone had been unaffected, even though everyone in the city was asleep.

    It was probably because the Nightmare already cursed him.

    ¡®When I fell asleepst night, the two curses must have shed.¡¯

    And in that sh, the stronger curse must have prevailed.

    Naturally, the stronger curse would be the one that had already been ced on him.

    A curse cast over 5,000 people versus one cast on a single person¡ªthere was noparison.

    Hurriedly returning to the inn, Oscar looked at the deeply slumbering people.

    ¡®First, I need to figure out the wavelength of the dream they¡¯re experiencing.¡¯

    If he could identify that wavelength and mimic it, he could enter the same dream.

    After all, his soul already bore the mark of the Nightmare curse, allowing him to enter the realm of dreams freely.

    ¡°Scan.¡±

    His mana swept through the entire inn.

    A few minutester, the results were in.

    Oscar climbed upstairs and found an empty room.

    ¡®¡­.¡¯

    The results materialised before his eyes after calming his mind and waiting briefly.

    Oscar quickly analyzed them, and his gaze sharpened.

    ¡®Found it.¡¯

    The same wavelength was detected in dozens of people.

    Oscar transferred it into his own mana code,y down on the shabby bed, and cut off all oxygen flow to his brain to induce unconsciousness.

    * * *

    ¡°Huff!¡±

    Oscar¡¯s eyes flew open as he bolted upright.

    Descending to the first floor, he saw a lively scene of bustling people, starkly different from earlier.

    ¡®¡­.¡¯

    Though the sight was vivid and realistic, Oscar wasn¡¯t shaken.

    He was the only person on the continent with this much experience in such dreams.

    He might as well be called the ultimate nightmare expert.

    ¡®Dream curses sometimes end without incident. But¡­¡¯

    When the curse¡¯s purpose was the victim¡¯s death, the dream would invariably mutate.

    And the only way to escape such a nightmare was simple:

    ¡®Eliminate the mutated entity within the dream.¡¯

    Leaving the inn hastily, Oscar¡¯s ears were filled with Christmas carols and the ringing of Salvation Army bells.

    He scanned the streets teeming with people, pondering.

    ¡®First, I need to figure out whose dream this is.¡¯

    Even if 5,000 people were dreaming together, a protagonist would always be among them.

    And finding that protagonist was critical for one reason:

    ¡®The only way to break the Nightmare Baron¡¯s dream is to destroy the mutated entity.¡¯

    That entity would always linger near the protagonist.

    ¡®But¡­.¡¯

    Gazing at the countless people, Oscar frowned.

    He had no idea how to identify the protagonist.

    ¡®I can¡¯t just kill people randomly, either.¡¯

    They were real, living beings.

    If they died here, they would die in reality, too.

    As he bit his lip and pondered a way out, a familiar face brushed past him.

    ¡°Wait, Veronica!?¡±

    ¡°...Ugh, seriously, why are you grabbing me all of a sudden? Did you eat something bad this morning?¡±

    ¡°This is perfect. I¡¯m d I ran into you. We don¡¯t have time to waste here.¡±

    ¡°What? Hey! Wait!¡±

    Oscar urgently grabbed her hand and pulled her into a deserted back alley before he started talking.

    ¡°Veronica, listen to me carefully. We¡¯re inside a dream world right now.¡±

    ¡°...Are you having fun?¡±

    Her half-lidded eyes turned toward him, but Oscar hastily protested.

    ¡°I¡¯m not joking. Do you know the Nightmare Baron? That guy cursed the entire townst night.¡±

    ¡°Pfft. Nightmare Baron or Dream Duke, whatever. I don¡¯t care. I have ns, so I¡¯m leaving.¡±

    Even as Veronica actually started walking away from the alley, Oscar followed behind her, still trying to persuade her.

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    ¡°I¡¯m dead serious right now. If we don¡¯t deal with the corrupted entity soon, everyone will die.¡±

    ¡°Knock it off. It¡¯s Christmas, not April Fools¡¯ Day. Say one more word, and I¡¯ll curse you out.¡±

    ¡°When have I ever lied to you? Remember the incident at the magic nt? I was right about that.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ that time, there was a giant cocoon in front of us. I only believed you because I could see it myself.¡±

    Veronica didn¡¯t stop walking but nced at him sideways.

    ¡°So unless you have solid evidence like that again, don¡¯t even bother.¡±

    ¡°Evidence, huh¡­¡±

    He didn¡¯t have any.

    Not yet.

    He hadn¡¯t even identified who the corrupted entity was.

    As he fell silent, Veronica stopped in front of a restaurant and snapped at him.

    ¡°How long are you going to follow me? I¡¯m going to my appointment, so leave me alone already.¡±

    ¡°¡­This is your meeting spot?¡±

    Oscar looked up at the luxurious restaurant.

    Through the window, he caught a glimpse of an orchestra in suits ying music inside.

    Veronica¡¯s face flushed, as if reading his thoughts.

    ¡°What, why? Is a poor girl not allowed to eat at a fancy ce like this?¡±

    ¡°No, that¡¯s not it, but¡­ Fine. Then let¡¯s eat together.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t make meugh. Why on earth would I eat with you first thing in the morning?¡±

    The two continued their bickering as they stepped inside through the door held open by a waiter.

    Just then, a voice called out from a corner of the restaurant.

    ¡°Veronica! Over here!¡±

    Turning her head toward the voice, Veronica broke into a bright smile and waved.

    ¡°Mom! Dad!¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    What?

    Oscar¡¯s expression turned grim in an instant as he stared at Veronica.

    ¡®...Found it.¡¯

    The protagonist of this dream was none other than her.

    The orchestra¡¯s performance was superb.

    The soft piano and delicate cello melodies were a constant delight to the ears.

    ¡®...This is unbearable.¡¯

    But seated at the table, Oscar felt suffocated to the point of agony.

    He even thought he¡¯d rather be fighting a demon than sitting here.

    The unfamiliar noblewoman beamed at him warmly whether or not anyone noticed his difort.

    ¡°So, is this handsome young man your boyfriend?¡±

    ¡°Mom!¡±

    Veronica snapped irritably, and a stoic-looking middle-aged man gave her a warning.

    ¡°Veronica, don¡¯t yell at your mother.¡±

    ¡°...I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    ¡°Oh, honey, why are you scolding her over such a trivial thing? You¡¯re making our daughter upset.¡±

    ¡°Ahem, I was just worried about you¡­¡±

    The three of them seemed like a picture-perfect family straight out of a fairy tale.

    A cheerful and lively mother, a stoic but kind father, and their shy yet loving daughter.

    ¡®...They look so happy.¡¯

    Maybe that¡¯s why.

    Veronica had turned into a docilemb, unlike her usual brash and feisty self.

    This must be the family she had always yearned for, even in her dreams.

    ¡®She¡¯s so different from me.¡¯

    He was nothing like her.

    He had never longed for or wanted a family.

    Sometimes, he¡¯d wondered what it would be like to have one, but that was mere curiosity.

    ¡®On the other hand, this girl¡­ She¡¯s always longed for family so deeply.¡¯

    For the first time, Oscar saw Veronica smile so brightly.

    Had she grown up in an ordinary home, she would¡¯ve turned out just like this¡ªno need to harden herself or constantlysh out at others.

    ¡®But.¡¯

    This couldn¡¯t go on.

    Seeing her like this only strengthened his resolve to wake her up from this dream.

    The longer she stayed in this state, the harder it would be to convince her to leave, even if she knew it was a dream.

    ¡°Veronica.¡±

    ¡°Hm? What? And why aren¡¯t you eating anything? Lost your appetite?¡±

    ¡°...We need to break this dream.¡±

    ¡°There you go again.¡±

    Veronica sighed softly, prompting her mother to ask.

    ¡°Break the dream? What is he talking about?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. He keeps spouting nonsense about dreams and corrupted entities.¡±

    ¡°Hoho, maybe your boyfriend had a bad dreamst night.¡±

    ¡°For thest time, he¡¯s not my boyfriend!¡±

    Flustered, Veronica red at him and whispered a warning.

    ¡°Hey, if you keep talking nonsense, leave. Don¡¯t ruin the mood.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    With a serious expression, Oscar spoke up.

    ¡°Veronica, earlier you asked me to show proof, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Just stop already.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll show you. Proof.¡±

    With that, he stood up and extended a hand to the noblewoman.

    ¡°Pardon myte introduction. I am Oscar Crucian, a 3rd-level mage of the White Tower.¡±

    ¡°Oh my, there¡¯s no need for such formality. I¡¯m just¡­ Veronica¡¯s¡­¡±

    The woman¡¯s words trailed off as her expression froze for a moment.

    Then, as if nothing had happened, she smiled brightly again.

    ¡°Mother. I¡¯m her mother.¡±

    ¡°Pardon me, but could you tell me your full name?¡±

    ¡°Oh, goodness, my name is¡­ It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s¡­¡±

    The noblewoman¡¯s eyes lost focus, her pupils spinning like a malfunctioning machine.

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ her mother¡­ This child¡¯s¡­ mother¡­¡±

    Oscar watched her reaction and began exining.

    ¡°A corrupted entity is like an automated system created by the Nightmare Baron. It can¡¯t executemands that deviate significantly from its pre-programmed behaviors.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    ¡°The easiest way to identify them is to ask an unexpected question, like I just did.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    Veronica said nothing, her gaze fixed on what she thought was her mother¡ªno, the corrupted entity.

    ¡°We have to eliminate it. If we don¡¯t, thousands of lives will be at stake.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    Just as Oscar opened his mouth to persuade her further, the orchestra¡¯s performance abruptly ceased.

    A chilling silence fell over the restaurant.

    Feeling countless eyes on him, Oscar slowly looked around.

    The waiters serving food and wine, as well as the musicians, had stopped moving and were staring directly at him.

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 Chapter 66

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    Chapter 66: The City of Dreamers (6)

    Oscar scanned the unfocused gazes directed at him, deep in thought.

    ¡®Come to think of it, the butler at the Vince mansion did mention that no stores would be open on Christmas.¡¯

    But in this dreamlike street, some shops were operating as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

    This upscale restaurant was one of them.

    ¡®Which means... the people working in these open establishments are all¡­¡¯

    They were all distorted entities created by the Nightmare Baron¡ªlike Veronica''s parents.

    The moment he realized that, a waiter silently crept up behind him and swung a wine bottle.

    ¡ºWind Bullet¡»

    Without even turning around, he fired a bullet that punctured the waiter''s head clean through.

    Hissss.

    As the dead waiter dissolved into ck smoke, the customers who witnessed it murmured in shock.

    "Some-someone just died¡­?"

    "A murder, it''s a murder!"

    "Run!"

    Not realizing the waiter wasn''t human, the customers screamed in terror and fled outside.

    ¡®Actually, this works out better for me.¡¯

    With the patrons gone, there¡¯d be no interruptions during the fight.

    He nced at Veronica and spoke.

    "Now you see, don''t you? They''re not human."

    "..."

    She was too stunned to respond.

    "Hey, you..."

    Oscar was about to add something when enemies started pouring in from all directions.

    "Tch."

    Dozens of figures armed with steak knives, cellos, and frying pans rushed at him en masse.

    Leaping onto a table to evade them, he began shooting them one by one in the head as he fled.

    ¡®About 30 of them? If it¡¯s just this many, I can handle it alone¡­¡¯

    Just as he allowed himself a moment of optimism¡ª

    Crash!

    The front and back doors of the restaurant shattered as another wave of lifeless-eyed enemies surged in.

    "Damn it. How many are there?"

    There were so many that the end of their procession was nowhere in sight.

    It seemed every corrupted entity in the shopping district had gathered here.

    ¡®This might be a bit much to handle alone.¡¯

    The number was overwhelming, but the spatial limitations of the building were the real problem.

    ¡ºAir Explosion¡»

    Oscar cast a wide-area spell from the second floor, sting back the enemies climbing the stairs.

    He shouted loudly.

    "Veronica! Snap out of it!"

    "..."

    Despite his repeated cries, she remained frozen, overwhelmed by confusion.

    "What¡¯s going on?"

    Veronica¡¯s pupils trembled as she watched the chaotic battle unfold.

    "Are we really inside a dream? And my parents¡ªthey¡¯re false entities?"

    Shaking her head as if to deny the idea, her mind swirled with memories of happy moments spent with her parents.

    ¡®So¡­ all these memories, are they lies fabricated by that Nightmare Baron?¡¯

    Her eyes quivered.

    Fear crept in.

    If it were true, then who was she, standing here now?n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om

    From a seemingly ordinary girl with a poor but loving family¡ª

    To suddenly being a girl with no family at all.

    "Veronica."

    Her mother and father approached her, speaking softly.

    "Let¡¯s leave this ce while we can."

    "It¡¯s too dangerous here. Let¡¯s go back home and wait for things to settle."

    "...Home?"

    At that word, a familiar image shed through her mind.

    A picturesque cottage atop a hill overlooking a green meadow dotted with delicate white flowers.

    She remembered hangingundry with her mother there, while her father chopped firewood nearby.

    Even amidst the hard work, they would always smile at each other.

    For reasons she couldn¡¯t exin, tears streamed down her cheeks as the memory surfaced.

    "Let¡¯s go. Quickly now."

    Her mother, looking frightened, gently grabbed her arm and tried to pull her away.

    But Veronica¡¯s feet wouldn¡¯t budge.

    "Veronica?"

    Hearing her name, she asked calmly.

    "The white flowers that bloom in front of our house. What are they called?"

    "Flowers? Well, they¡¯re just¡­ flowers."

    "Daffodils. And if my memory¡¯s right, it was Mom who told me their name."

    "I¡¯ve been forgetfultely; I¡¯m sorry. But let¡¯s talk after we leave here, okay?"

    "Yes, Veronica, listen to your mother. We don¡¯t know when we might get caught in the fighting¡­"

    "Mom. Dad."

    She turned slowly, looking directly at the two of them.

    "What are your names?"

    "..."

    "..."

    There was no answer.

    Their faces stiffened awkwardly, as if they were malfunctioning, before they let out a long sigh.

    "What kind of question is that? You¡¯re not seriously believing what that boy said, are you? I¡¯m your mother."

    "Veronica, no matter what anyone says, I¡¯m your father. We¡¯re family. That¡¯s all that matters."

    "..."

    Veronica nced over at Oscar.

    On the second-floornding, he was desperately holding back more than a hundred enemies.

    The corrupted entities were now using their own bodies to formdders to climb up.

    "Damn it...!"

    Cornered, Oscar struggled.

    A chef grabbed his ankle while a baker from a nearby shoptched onto his sleeve.

    Yet, even then, he didn¡¯t give up, fighting to fend off the endless waves.

    "..."

    For some reason, the scene reminded her of the time she copsed pathetically at the power nt.

    She recalled the way he had patted her head, reassuring her that everything would be fine.

    Veronica spoke suddenly.

    "¡­Stroke my head."

    "What? Now? In this situation, you¡¯re asking me to¡ª"

    "Do it. Quickly!"

    Her mother hesitantly reached out and stroked her head.

    Feeling the touch for a moment, Veronica chuckled bitterly.

    "¡­What a joke. People always say a mother¡¯s touch is the best, but it¡¯s nonsense."

    After all, the warmest touch she¡¯d ever felt was the one Oscar had given her.

    Veronica muttered softly.

    "Sorry, but I don¡¯t think I can go with you."

    "Veronica! We can make you happy if youe with us!"

    "Aren¡¯t we the family you¡¯ve always wished for? If youe with us, you can live without worries, in peace."

    "¡­Maybe."

    Even if this was a dream and they were false entities,

    she couldn¡¯t deny that she had felt a fleeting happiness here.

    But going with them wasn¡¯t an option.

    "My name is Veronica Fricks. A mage of the White Tower."

    Her gaze shifted to one corner of the room.

    To that idiot, cornered and overwhelmed in the shop¡¯s corner, who had taught her this lesson:

    "¡­A White Tower mage never abandons theirrades."

    Especially not for something as fleeting as an illusion.

    Crackle! Spark!

    Sharp mana crackled around her like electricity.

    "Wait."

    "Veronica...!"

    Ignoring the panicked voices of the two before her, she softly bid them farewell.

    "¡­Goodbye."

    ¡ºWind Press¡»

    Boom!

    Compressed air crushed the two, dissolving them into ck smoke.

    Veronica let out a bitter smile.

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    * * *

    "Argh!"

    There was nowhere left to retreat.

    Cornered at the edge, Oscar bit his lip as he watched the enemies close in.

    Even now, he was whittling down their numbers, but there were far too many.

    No matter how many he killed, their ranks didn¡¯t seem to thin.

    Oscar-style Martial Arts, Secret Technique Chapter 1:

    Wave Sound.

    BOOOOM!

    Dozens of the twisted beings exploded all at once, scattering into smoke.

    Ordinarily, when an ally is horrifically killed beside you, fear is the natural reaction.

    But these twisted beings didn¡¯t so much as blink, filling the gaps without hesitation.

    ¡°Ah, damn it.¡±

    In a moment of carelessness, he lost sight of one wielding a steak knife.

    As Oscar widened his eyes at the frying pan descending toward his head¡ª

    Krrrrunch!

    Apressed gust of wind fell, crushing the twisted beings, quite literally, into the ground.

    Fwoooosh.

    As the thick ck smoke that had filled the view began to dissipate, an all-too-familiar face awkwardly broke the silence.

    ¡°Uh¡­ big sis is here. You¡¯ve been waiting, right?¡±

    ¡°...Don¡¯t call yourself my sister.¡±

    What kind of sister would cause this much chaos?

    As Oscar met her sheepish gaze with half-lidded eyes, she avoided his stare and smacked his back.

    ¡°Hey, I showed up, didn¡¯t I? Besides, I got here before anything really bad happened.¡±

    ¡°Before anything really bad? Look at me! I¡¯m scraped up here, cut here, and burned over there.¡±

    ¡°...Well, then, isn¡¯t it lucky I arrived before you died?¡±

    What an absolutely selfish woman.

    Oscar¡¯s exasperated expression melted into a dry chuckle.

    ¡°Ha, you really are a piece of work.¡±

    ¡°Ah, geez, sorry, okay? But seriously, right now¡­.¡±

    She fixed her gaze on the beings surrounding the two.

    ¡°Getting rid of these things takes priority.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t argue with that.¡±

    Whoosh! Whoosh!

    With deft movements, Veronica manipted the threads woven between her hands.

    They were magical threads, conjured from mana.

    ¡°Why bother taking them out one by one?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s sweep them all away at once!¡±

    Ssssshhh!

    The magical threads burst forth from her fingers, slicing through the restaurant ceiling.

    ¡°This is ridiculous¡­.¡±

    Oscar couldn¡¯t help but grumble, even as he hurled the massive chunks of falling debris at the enemies.

    CRASH! BOOM!

    The twisted beings crushed under the rubble disintegrated into clouds of smoke.

    ¡°See? Feels satisfying, doesn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°¡­Yeah, maybe a little.¡±

    ¡°Take a breather. I¡¯ll handle the rest.¡±

    Whoosh!

    She swung a chunk of debris tethered to her magical threads like a slingshot.

    With each swing, groups of twisted beings evaporated into smoke.

    ¡°Spotted Veronica and Oscar in the marketce! We¡¯re joining in!¡±

    Senior mages from the White Tower descended through the gaping hole in the ceiling.

    Oscar finally felt a wave of relief as he let out a small sigh.

    Fwoooosh.

    Thest twisted being dissipated into smoke.

    ¡°What happens now?¡±

    A senior mage approached, asking the question.

    Oscar exined everything he knew.

    ¡°To my knowledge, once we eliminate all the twisted beings, we automatically wake up from the dream.¡±

    ¡°Really? Then why are we still¡­?¡±

    ¡°Ah, it¡¯s starting.¡±

    Oscar¡¯s gaze swept the surroundings as he murmured.

    Just as he said, the senior mage standing nearby vanished.

    As if they had never been there to begin with.

    ¡°What the¡­ that¡¯s anticli¡ª¡±

    Before Veronica could finish her thought, she vanished too.

    The senior mage let out a sigh of relief.

    ¡°So it¡¯s over. We just have to wait, huh? See you outside.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, see you in reality.¡±

    Soon, the senior mage also disappeared.

    Now left alone in the suddenly silent street, Oscar instinctively spread his mana.

    ¡®¡­They¡¯re all gone.¡¯

    Detecting no human life signals in his search, he felt reassured¡ªuntil he heard it.

    Clink! tter!

    Shards, like broken ss, began raining from the sky.

    Startled, he looked up to see the world itself crumbling, like old wallpaper being torn apart.

    ¡°¡­¡±

    He¡¯d experienced countless dreams, but witnessing the copse of the dream world was a first.

    ¡®Is it because this dream space housed tens of thousands of people?¡¯

    As the question formed in his mind, he felt it¡ªa gaze from beyond the crumbling sky.

    ¡°¡­¡±

    It was a gaze steeped in malice and contempt for humanity.

    But it also bore a sharp, almost obsessive curiosity directed at him.

    Oscar¡¯s face hardened.

    He had seen such eyes before, on a demon lord.

    ¡®The Nightmare Baron.¡¯

    As the Nightmare Baron looked at him, he stared back.

    And then, the demon¡¯s deep voice resonated in his ears.

    ¡ªHow amusing.

    As if the Baron found this all unbearably entertaining, a lowugh rumbled through the air, and the world shatteredpletely.

    ¡ªWe¡¯ll meet again, mage.

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 Chapter 67

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    Chapter 67: The White Anvil Tribe (1)

    Since waking from his dream, the atmosphere in the Vince Territory had not been great.

    Even though there was no direct damage, a high-ranking demon¡¯s attack after 20 years was enough to unsettle everyone.

    ¡°Of course. If it weren¡¯t for you, we¡¯d all be dead.¡±

    Veronica, sprawled out on the sofa in his room with her arms draped over the backrest, asked,

    ¡°So, how did you know it was a dream?¡±

    ¡°Who knows? Just a man¡¯s intuition?¡±

    ¡°¡­Forget it. If you don¡¯t want to tell me, fine.¡±

    Clicking her tongue, she rose from her seat and muttered under her breath,

    ¡°¡­Thanks.¡±

    ¡°What was that?¡±

    ¡°Ugh, are your ears clogged? I said, thank you!¡±

    Veronica¡¯s ears turned bright red as she spoke, clearly embarrassed.

    ¡°That said, since I saved your life this time, we¡¯re even now.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. Somehow, I feel like I¡¯m getting the short end of the stick¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­Fine. How about this: if you need my help in the future, I¡¯ll lend a hand once. Deal?¡±

    ¡°Deal.¡±

    Oscar smiled lightly.

    This incident had brought them closer, no doubt about it.

    As if to reassure herself, Veronica murmured,

    ¡°And¡­ what you saw of me earlier¡­ forget it, okay? It¡¯s so embarrassing I feel like jumping out the window.¡±

    ¡°Embarrassing? Which part?¡±

    ¡°The part where I¡ªat my age¡ªwas still yearning for a family¡­¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s embarrassing at all.¡±

    Oscar shook his head firmly.

    ¡°Demons are good at that sort of thing¡ªexploiting what people want most.¡±

    ¡°You sound like you know a lot about it.¡±

    ¡°Read a book sometime. Then you¡¯d know too.¡±

    ¡°¡­You¡¯re insufferable.¡±

    Her curt reply was followed by a brief hesitation before she nodded.

    ¡°Well, if you say so, I guess there¡¯s nothing I can do. I¡¯m off.¡±

    Her voice sounded brighter, a sign she still wasn¡¯t great at hiding her emotions.

    Oscar smirked slightly before heading off to see the lord of Vince.

    ¡°Ah, how are you feeling? You truly saved the day this time.¡±

    ¡°I was lucky. How¡¯s the recovery efforting along?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve already reported the matter to the Imperial Pce.¡±

    ¡°What did they say?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ll be sending someone to investigate soon. They¡¯ll probably want to talk to you too, Oscar.¡±

    An Imperial investigator.

    That was to be expected.

    Given that this involved demons, it was only natural they¡¯d react strongly.

    ¡°Understood. I¡¯ll stay put at the White Tower until then.¡±

    ¡°Yes, there¡¯s much I¡¯d like to share with you about this, but it¡¯s all ssified¡­¡±

    ¡°I understand.¡±

    The Imperial Pce would likely be keeping a tight lid on what happened in Vince.

    It was possible other territories wouldn¡¯t even realize there had been a demonic attack.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om

    Of course, it would be impossible to contain every leak, but still.

    ¡°I¡¯ll never forget the debt we owe you, Oscar.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no need to call it a debt¡­¡±

    ¡°No, truly. Between the Cadena Flue and now this, I know better than anyone that we wouldn¡¯t havee through with so little damage if not for your help.¡±

    Pietta Vince¡¯s expression turned confident, his smile full of gratitude.

    ¡°I vow that Vince will always be a steadfast ally to the White Tower and to you, Oscar.¡±

    * * *

    Returning to the White Tower, Oscar was informed someone was waiting for him.

    He hurried to the location without even pausing to rest.

    ¡°Elder!¡±

    He found himself in Elder Schwein¡¯s researchb, where the elder greeted him with open arms.

    ¡°You¡¯re here! I was waiting so long, I thought my neck might snap!¡±

    ¡°Apologies. I had to visit the Vince Territory for a bit.¡±

    After a brief hug, the elder nodded.

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard the rumors. They say a needle hidden in a pouch always finds its way out. You can¡¯t help but draw attention wherever you go.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d much prefer to stay quietly tucked away in the pouch, honestly. But seeing you here means¡­¡±

    Oscar¡¯s eyes sparkled with anticipation as he trailed off.

    Schwein chuckled and nodded.

    ¡°The magic-engineered battery is finallyplete. It¡¯s only a prototype, but it works.¡±

    ¡°Congrattions!¡±

    ¡°Come now, this isn¡¯t just my achievement; it¡¯s ours.¡±

    Schwein handed over his research notes, saying,

    ¡°Take a look. Maybe you¡¯lle up with some improvements as you read.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m no expert in magic engineering, but I¡¯ll give it a shot.¡±

    After all, magical theorists practically lived to have someone read their papers and offer a 5,500-word critique.

    Gathering the hefty documents, Oscar asked,

    ¡°So, all that¡¯s left now is to build the airship?¡±

    ¡°Indeed. While you were away, I scouted several shipyards. Which do you think we should go with?¡±

    As he skimmed the list, Oscar blinked in confusion.

    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡±

    ¡°Hmm? It¡¯s a list of shipyards we couldmission. I only picked the most reputable ones.¡±

    ¡°No, that¡¯s not what I meant¡­¡±

    Why were they considering humans for a project as crucial as building the airship?

    He didn¡¯t need a mirror to know his expression was less than pleased.

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be better to entrust this to the dwarves? For various reasons.¡±

    ¡°¡­Dwarves?¡±

    Schwein looked surprised, then burst intoughter.

    ¡°Haha! Sometimes I forget you¡¯re an amnesiac because you seem so normal.¡±

    ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    ¡°Long story short, we can¡¯t work with dwarves right now.¡±

    ¡°Why not? Doesn¡¯t the White Tower have an exclusive contract with the White Anvil Tribe?¡±

    And the contract still had plenty of time left, too.

    He¡¯d know¡ªhe was the one who brokered the 50-year deal with them 32 years ago.

    ¡°Their hands are tied. The Dwarven King has forbidden them from interacting with humans.¡±

    ¡°¡­Why would the Dwarven King do that?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­¡±

    Looking as if he were confronting an awkward self-portrait, Schwein gazed out the window and began his exnation.

    ¡°After the war with the demons, the Empire needed countless architects to rebuild its cities. Naturally, the dwarves were the most sought-after.¡±

    It made perfect sense.

    The dwarves could construct safer, sturdier, and more aesthetically pleasing buildings faster than humans could.

    Of course, it must have been that way.

    They could build safer, more sensory, and sturdier buildings than humans, and do so faster.

    ¡°But, as you know, they were very few in number, so they had to sign contracts in order of priority, starting with those who held significant power or wealth.¡±

    ¡°No way¡­?¡±

    Suddenly struck by a grim thought, Oscar gave a look as if to say, ¡®That¡¯s not true, is it?¡¯

    Schwein, looking at him, gave a heavy nod.

    ¡°Yes, some lords from certain cities, dissatisfied with the arrangement, kidnapped dwarves and forced them intobor.¡±

    ¡°Oh, my god.¡±

    Oscar instinctively covered his face with both hands.

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    Intelligent beings of non-human species were not particrly numerous.

    Perhaps because of this, they tended to stick together and shared a strong sense of camaraderie.

    ¡°To have kidnapped such beings and forced them intobor¡­¡±

    It didn¡¯t take much imagination to guess that the Dwarf King must have been furious.

    It was entirely understandable that he had cut off all rtions with humans altogether.

    ¡°At this point, no human is able to have any interaction with the dwarves, correct?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. The royal family is working hard to mend rtions, but I hear it hasn¡¯t been easy.¡±

    That fury was unlikely to subside anytime soon.

    Especially given that dwarves, who lived for centuries, probably wouldn¡¯t consider 17 years a particrly long time.

    ¡°But our case might be a bit different, don¡¯t you think? We signed an exclusive contract with them beforehand.¡±

    As far as Oscar knew, the White Tower was the only entity to have established an exclusive contract with the dwarves before rtions deteriorated.

    After that, no other group would have been able to form any such contract.

    Schwein nodded, agreeing with his reasoning.

    ¡°We thought the same. That¡¯s why we¡¯ve tried to negotiate with the White Anvil n several times, but¡­ they say the King¡¯s orders are absolute, and there¡¯s nothing they can do.¡±

    ¡°Then we¡¯ll need to have a direct talk with the Dwarf King.¡±

    ¡°I doubt he¡¯d even agree to meet. From what I¡¯ve heard, he¡¯s been ignoring evenmunications from the royal family.¡±

    ¡°In that case, I have a good idea.¡±

    Intrigued, Schwein showed his interest.

    ¡°Is that so?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I think the reason they¡¯re being rejected is that they¡¯re being too polite in their approach.¡±

    ¡°¡­Just to be sure, whatever you¡¯re nning, violence is out of the question.¡±

    ¡°Of course. Trying to resolve things with brute force in today¡¯s world would be a disaster.¡±

    In this modern, smart world, Oscar confidently nodded and said,

    ¡°We need to file awsuit against the Dwarf King for obstruction of business.¡±

    ¡°¡­Oscar, dwarves aren¡¯t subject to humanws.¡±

    ¡°I know. That¡¯s why we¡¯ll demand the convening of the Underground Tribunal. Even the King has no veto over that.¡±

    The Underground Tribunal.

    This was the highest judicial body of the Dwarf Kingdom, attended only by the leaders of the ns and the Chief Justice.

    It was a system usually invoked to redress injustices suffered by dwarves.

    Hearing Oscar¡¯s n, Schwein blinked a few times.

    ¡°Is it even possible for a human to demand the convening of the Underground Tribunal?¡±

    ¡°It is, as far as I know.¡±

    ¡°Hmm, but even if it is possible¡­ do you happen to know who the Chief Justice of the Underground Tribunal is?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    Once again, the Underground Tribunal was an institution exclusively for dwarves,prised of the most prominent leaders of the kingdom.

    Naturally, its Chief Justice was the most exalted figure in the kingdom.

    The King himself.

    * * *

    Dwarves, as described in storybooks, are simple to picture.

    Short in stature, with long hair and beards braided ording to individual preferences, skillful, and heavy drinkers.

    None of this was untrue.

    But¡­

    ¡°Ah, I want to drink.¡±

    A young dwarf, Goren, whose face still bore the downy features of youth, suddenly grumbled.

    The part about being crazy about alcohol often led people to imagine dwarves as burly, bearded old men.

    However, their physical appearance was not so different from that of human children.

    ¡°Goren, didn¡¯t you already have some this morning?¡±

    ¡°Not the stuff we make¡ªI want to drink human-brewed liquor.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ we haven¡¯t had that in quite a while.¡±

    It had been 17 years since the Dwarves¡¯ rtionship with humans was severed due to the kidnapping incidents.

    Thinking about human alcohol made the other dwarves smack their lips.

    When it came to alcohol culture, humans far outshone the dwarves, who were limited in the types of drinks they could make in their dark, damp underground homes.

    ¡°Foolish, greedy humans. Why did they have to resort to kidnapping¡­?¡±

    ¡°I heard the Red Hammer n out west sneaks up to the surface to buy alcohol. Can¡¯t we do the same?¡±

    ¡°Their area has poor security, so they can get away with it. But here in our territory, the patrols are too strict.¡±

    ¡°To humans, we¡¯re just little kids.¡±

    ¡°Ugh. Isn¡¯t there a store where we can get good alcohol¡­?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m so sick of other ns showing off about the delicious drinks they¡¯ve had.¡±

    Officially, exchanges with humans had been cut off, but quite a few dwarves still snuck to the surface.

    Most of the n leaders turned a blind eye to such minor breaches.

    ¡°When will rtions resume?¡±

    ¡°At least a hundred years will have to pass before His Majesty¡¯s anger cools.¡±

    ¡°¡­So we still have 83 years to go.¡±

    Today, their longing for human alcohol was almost unbearable.

    Could it be that their wishes had reached the heavens?

    ¡°Whew¡­ this is so heavy.¡±

    Oscar arrived at the entrance to their vige, pulling a massive cart loaded with various kinds of liquor.

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 Chapter 68

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    Chapter 68: The White Anvil Tribe (2)

    The craftsmanship of dwarves brings wealth, honor, and power.

    Many sought to monopolize their skill, but no faction ever seeded.

    ¡®Well, if we add the condition ¡®temporarily,¡¯ there are exactly three factions that managed it.¡¯

    The imperial family, the Celestial Sword n of Yan, and the White Tower.

    These three factions maintained close ties with the dwarves.

    ¡®In particr, our White Tower had frequent exchanges with the northern White Anvil Tribe.¡¯

    This allowed them to earn the tribe¡¯s trust, leading to several exclusive contracts.

    To a dwarf, an exclusive contract was a testament of immense trust.

    ¡®It means that during the contract period, they won¡¯t craft anything for anyone else but us.¡¯

    Of course, even with the White Tower securing a 50-year exclusive contract, not all dwarves worked solely for them.

    After all, the dwarven kingdom consisted of five tribes:

    The northern White Anvil Tribe.

    The eastern ck Hammer Tribe.

    The southern Blue Salt Tribe.

    The western Red Sand Tribe.

    And finally, the central Golden Pir Tribe.

    ¡®Each tribe has slightly different architectural styles and artistic tendencies.¡¯

    But none could im superiority; they were all master artisans blessed with unrivaled skill.

    Among them, the White Anvil Tribe¡¯s city was rtively close to Sirin.

    It was only a six-hour walk, even if one had to pull a cart.

    ¡°Phew.¡±

    Sweating profusely as he climbed the mountain, Oscar stood before a massive stone gate.

    Though it was just a stone gate, its finish was wless.

    ¡°Ahem.¡±

    As Oscar approached the gate, he sensed an air of hostility.

    At the same time, two figures emerged from behind him.

    ¡®Dwarven warriors guarding the city gate.¡¯

    Those two were likely the finest warriors of the White Anvil Tribe.

    Raising his empty hands, Oscar slowly turned around and spoke.

    ¡°I am not an enemy.¡±

    ¡°Hmph, we¡¯ll decide that.¡±

    ¡°State your affiliation and identity, human.¡±

    They held axes and wore the distinctive helmets of dwarven warriors.

    ¡®Many underestimated them due to their childlike appearance, so they deliberately designed intimidating helmets.¡¯

    The helmetspletely covered their faces, adorned with exaggeratedly twisted beards and hair.

    These helmets were the reason the dwarves¡¯ appearance in fairy tales diverged from reality.

    The glint of their eyes, visible through the hair, was enough to make one¡¯s knees weak at first sight.

    ¡°I am Oscar Crucian, a mage from the White Tower.¡±

    ¡°¡­The White Tower, you say?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I¡¯vee to meet with the White Anvil Tribe¡¯s chief on an urgent matter.¡±

    After exchanging nces, the warriors lowered their axes slightly and asked:

    ¡°What¡¯s in the cart behind you?¡±

    ¡°Are there other humans hiding in it?¡±

    ¡°Feel free to inspect it.¡±

    At Oscar¡¯s willingness, they warily examined the cart.

    Tapping the jars loaded onto it, they carefully unsealed one.

    ¡°Sniff, sniff! This scent¡­ could it be?¡±

    ¡°Surely not¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s liquor I¡¯ve brought as a gift. I thought you might miss human-made alcohol.¡±

    ¡°Go in! No, we¡¯ll escort you ourselves!¡±

    ¡°You stay and guard the entrance. I¡¯ll make sure this human doesn¡¯t cause trouble while leading him to the city.¡±

    ¡°No, you stay here and guard!¡±

    As expected, the dwarf¡¯s love for alcohol was unmatched.

    Oscar unloaded one of the jars and said:

    ¡°You two can enjoy this after your shift. But don¡¯t touch it while on duty.¡±

    ¡°Ehem, ahem.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s all this¡­?¡±

    Lifting the jar¡ªtaller than themselves¡ªthey carefully hid it in the bushes and opened the gate.

    ¡°Enter. We¡¯ll send word ahead.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    Thud, thud, thud.

    An ancient magical elevator was revealed as the massive stone gate opened with a heavy rumble.

    ¡®It¡¯s just as I remember. I once repaired this when it broke down.¡¯

    Would it still function properly?

    Loading the cart and operating the lever, the elevator slowly descended.

    Soon, a magnificent underground city was revealed, far more stunning than the ck market in Baran City.

    ¡®They¡¯ve made quite a few changes since myst visit.¡¯

    With their keen aesthetic sense, dwarves periodically tore down and rebuilt their homes.

    As Oscar stepped off the elevator, a group was waiting for him.

    ¡°Hm.¡±

    The dwarf at the forefront exuded a craftsman¡¯s spirit.

    Dressed in traditional work attire, he had bright orange hair.

    ¡°Wee, human. I am Hagor, chief of the White Anvil Tribe.¡±

    ¡°My name is Oscar Crucian, a third-level mage of the White Tower.¡±

    As Oscar greeted him warmly, a flicker of nostalgia crossed his eyes.

    Hagor was the most skilled artisan among the White Anvil dwarves and had once looked much cuter.

    ¡®Hagor hasn¡¯t aged a day in 20 years.¡¯

    ¡­Or rather, perhaps it¡¯s more urate to say he hasn¡¯t grown.

    Suppressing his fondness, Oscar listened as Hagor asked:

    ¡°What brings a human to our city?¡±

    Meeting Hagor¡¯s sharp gaze, Oscar crouched to match his eye level.

    ¡°I havee as an envoy from the White Tower to request the White Anvil Tribe fulfill the exclusive contract made with us 32 years ago.¡±

    ¡°Phew. As I¡¯ve exined several times, that is impossible. We cannot defy His Majesty¡¯s orders.¡±

    ¡°So, to rify, the White Anvil Tribe wishes to honor the contract but cannot due to the Dwarven King¡¯s decree?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ correct.¡±

    The moment Hagor reluctantly nodded, Oscar spoke as if he had been waiting for this.

    ¡°Very well. In that case, I will formally file awsuit against His Majesty, the Dwarven King.¡±

    ¡°¡­Did you just saywsuit?¡±

    ¡°Yes. As per protocol, please convene the Underground Court.¡±

    ¡°Phew.¡±

    Realizing he was caught in a headache-inducing situation, Hagor spoke in a conciliatory tone.

    ¡°Listen, young mage. I understand your position, but even if you sue His Majesty, nothing will change.¡±

    ¡°Because the one passing judgment is the Dwarven King himself?¡±

    ¡°¡­You already know. The used presides over the case. Do you really believe you can win?¡±

    It was a perfectly reasonable and logical thought.

    However, in this world, there is always an unexpected "variable" lurking.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

    "I''ll handle that part myself, so just convene the court. I''ll take full responsibility."

    "Hmm."

    Hagor crossed his arms with a grumpy expression.

    "And why should I risk His Majesty''s wrath to help you?"

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    "Didn''t you sign an exclusive contract with us?"

    "That contract has been rendered null and void under His Majesty''s orders."

    "Of course, I''m not asking for help for free."

    "Even though our interaction has been limited, we still hear things. The prestige of the White Tower isn¡¯t what it used to be. What exactly can you offer us?"

    Oscar pointed to the wagon filled to the brim with liquor.

    "I''ll provide you with alcohol."

    "¡­Just from the smell, it seems like pretty good stuff."

    Of course.

    These are bottles worth tens of thousands of bel each.

    "But do you think I¡¯d risk His Majesty¡¯s wrath for mere bribes like this?"

    "Ah, I thought you might misunderstand, so let me rify: these are just a courtesy gift. The alcohol I¡¯m offering is far more extraordinary and valuable than these."

    "No matter how expensive or fine the liquor, it wouldn''t be worth angering His Majesty."

    Oscar smiled brightly in response to the scoffing, resolute refusal.

    "What if it¡¯s the coldest beer in the world, drunk above the clouds?"

    "¡­Is that supposed to be some kind of metaphor?"

    "No, I mean it literally. You know what an airship is, don¡¯t you?"

    Hagor had once worked on the Sky Project.

    In other words, he understood the concept of an airship better than anyone.

    As expected, his eyes narrowed.

    "Of course I know. Isn''t that the project that failed spectacrly?"

    "Yes, it was. But this time, it¡¯s different."

    "This time¡­? Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re attempting it again?"

    "Indeed. And it¡¯s almostplete. All that¡¯s left is the airship itself."

    Hearing this unexpected revtion, Hagor''s pupils trembled.

    ¡®An airship¡­¡¯

    It had been his greatest dream at one point, but he had to let it go after tasting bitter failure.

    And now, with just the construction of an airship, he could challenge that dream again?

    ¡®But even if what he says is true¡­¡¯

    Hagor closed his eyes tightly and shook his head.

    "No. I can¡¯t take such a high-stakes gamble, especially when it puts my n at risk."

    It was a response befitting a chieftain.

    To protect his n¡¯s safety, he was willing to give up a dream he had clung to so fervently.

    However, the other dwarves present began looking at him as if he were the odd one.

    "Chieftain, are you out of your mind? Why are you even hesitating? He said he¡¯d take full responsibility!"

    "We absolutely must do this. How could we resist drinking beer on an airship?"

    "No living creature has ever drunk alcohol in the sky, has it? If we seed, we¡¯ll be the first."

    Dwarves, more than any other race, pride themselves on their honor and aplishments.

    To miss the chance to set a historic precedent¡ªespecially one involving alcohol, which they treasured above all else¡ªwas unthinkable.

    Seeing their unexpected reaction, Hagor clutched his chest in frustration.

    "Ha, you fools. Do you have any idea how hard it is to convene the Underground Court?"

    "Well, but isn¡¯t the reward sweet enough?"

    "For 20 years, I¡¯ve heard about this so-called magical engineering or whatever. Maybe this is our chance to see the outside world, too."

    The dwarves'' minds were already in the clouds.

    Oscar seized the moment for the final blow.

    "Everyone, have you heard of Heaven¡¯s Staircase?"

    "Heaven¡¯s Staircase!"

    "Of course we¡¯ve heard of it! Isn¡¯t that the wine those Blue Salt Tribe folks brag about every time there¡¯s a royal council meeting?"

    Heaven¡¯s Staircase was an incredibly rare and expensive wine produced only on the southern coast of the Empire.

    Although technically alcoholic, its ingredients made it closer to a magical elixir.

    "As you know, this wine evaporates within 72 hours of production, so unless you¡¯re at the southern coast, drinking it is impossible."

    Since only three bottles were produced annually, even southern dwarves had rarely tasted more than a few drops.

    "I promise you this: if the airship ispleted, you¡¯ll be able to taste Heaven¡¯s Staircase right here in the sky. And why stop there? What if I gathered every renowned liquor on the continent and let you drink them all at once?"

    "Every renowned liquor on the continent¡­?"

    "In the clouds?"

    "Then, would that include things like Royal Smoker from the west and Heavenly Jade Wine enjoyed by nobles of Yan?"

    These were world-famous liquors with short shelf lives, typically consumed only in their regions of origin.

    But with an airship, it would be possible to bring them to Sirin for consumption.

    "Of course, it¡¯s possible. Why wouldn¡¯t it be?"

    The dwarves'' eyes zed over, as if intoxicated by the sheer sweetness of his promise.

    "This¡­ this has to happen¡­"

    "If you want out, chieftain, you can leave alone."

    "The airship¡­ It must be built. It absolutely must."

    "Even those boastful Blue Salt or Red Sand tribes won¡¯t dare speak if we tell them we¡¯ve drunk on an airship."

    By now, the weapons they had been holding were hanging limply.

    Hagor looked at Oscar with a resigned expression.

    "I thought you were just a naive little brat, but you¡¯re a silver-tongued devil. How old are you?"

    "Twenty-one."

    Oscar looked strangely delighted as he answered.

    "Twenty-one, huh¡­ Good grief."

    Hagor scratched the back of his head as he stared at the hand Oscar extended toward him.

    "Damn it, I swore I¡¯d never have anything to do with anyone named Oscar again."

    "Why? What¡¯s wrong with my name?"

    "The previous Tower Master of the White Tower had the same name. That bastard worked us to the bone like dogs."

    He shuddered as he recalled the past.

    "And yet other ns envied us for working with the great Archmage. They didn¡¯t know a damn thing."

    "That must have been tough¡­ But don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m just someone with the same name."

    "Yeah, I suppose you are."

    After a brief hesitation, Hagor finally sped the outstretched hand.

    "Fine. You¡¯re just a namesake. It¡¯s not your fault."

    "Exactly."

    As they shook hands, a meaningful smile crept across Oscar¡¯s lips.

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 Chapter 69

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    Chapter 69: The White Anvil Tribe (3)

    La Forge.

    This is the kingdom of the dwarves who revere the Primordial me.

    It has been 17 years since they dered istion and cut ties with humans due to an unfortunate incident.

    The peaceful royal pce, where not even a raised voice was heard in years, was unusually bustling today.

    ¡°Your Majesty! Your Majesty! Urgent news!¡±

    The king, Gordin, gazed at the vassal who practically copsed to his knees before him, his expression growing solemn.

    Those who knew Gordin well would immediately understand¡ªhe was extremely tense.

    Urgent news... How long has it been since Ist heard that phrase?

    The most recent urgent report hade four years ago when there were sightings of demons again near the Red Mountain Range.

    Perhaps today¡¯s news would be a continuation of that.

    Demons...

    It had been 21 years since the war with them had ended.

    And yet, the mere mention of the word still brought a sharp tension through his entire body.

    Fully bracing himself, the youthful king, Gordin, asked,

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°Well, uh...¡±

    The vassal, unable to meet his gaze, squirmed nervously.

    Seeing this, Gordin¡¯s suspicion turned into certainty.

    He urged the vassal gently.

    ¡°It¡¯s alright. Speak freely. What is this about?¡±

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s just... I don¡¯t know how to convey this...¡±

    ¡°Ugh! I said it¡¯s fine! Just spit it out already!¡±

    Gordin, whose temper was slowly rising, shouted in frustration.

    Although he usually chose his words carefully and tried to remainposed due to his position as king, he was, like most dwarves, naturally quick-tempered.

    Watching the vassal squirm was bing unbearable.

    ¡°Y-yes, Your Majesty!¡±

    The vassal swallowed nervously and pulled out two letters from his coat, presenting them respectfully.

    Gordin took the letters and began reading them with a tense expression.

    Suddenly, he froze.

    ¡°...What is this?¡±

    ¡°They are summons, Your Majesty.¡±

    ¡°I have eyes; I can see that. My question is why I am receiving this.¡±

    ¡°Well, if you read the bottom part carefully...¡±

    The vassal trailed off.

    Following the suggestion, Gordin read the summons all the way to the end and blinked in disbelief.

    ¡®...Therefore, Gordin is hereby charged with interference with official duties and is required to appear at the Underground Court on the specified date and time.¡¯

    Even after reading the entire letter, Gordin couldn¡¯t quite process it.

    He asked again.

    ¡°So, you¡¯re telling me... I¡¯ve been sued?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty.¡±

    ¡°And the other letter?¡±

    Gordin silently read the second letter, then pressed his lips together.

    It was a notice confirming the court date, instructing him to appear as both the defendant and the presiding judge.

    ¡°Hah. Hahaha.¡±

    Has there ever been a case in history where one person served as both the defendant and the judge?

    As if anticipating the question, the vassal, who had done prior research, spoke cautiously.

    ¡°Well, Your Majesty, you appear to be the first case. My congrattions¡ª¡±

    ¡°Congrattions, my foot!¡±

    Gordin threw the letters angrily.

    No matter how much dwarves loved firsts and unique achievements, this was not something to be proud of.

    Watching the letters flutter to the ground, Gordin abruptly stood up.

    ¡°Who is this Oscar Crucian, the one suing me? What tribe does he belong to?¡±

    ¡°Well, he¡¯s human. A 21-year-old mage from the White Tower.¡±

    ¡°...A human? A mage from the White Tower?¡±

    La Forge and the White Tower were quite far apart.

    And at just 21 years old, the boy was no more than a fledgling who had likely never even seen Gordin¡¯s face.

    ¡°A brat barely out of his diapers is suing me? Hah.¡±

    Even as he said the words, it felt absurd.

    He, a king and judge of a nation, was being sued.

    ¡°Fine. Let¡¯s see this arrogant brat¡¯s face for ourselves.¡±

    Gordin¡¯s quiet fury echoed through the pce of La Forge.

    * * *

    The continent is vast.

    The dwarves are divided into five tribes.

    They are scattered across the wide expanse of the continent.

    Humans often wondered:

    So, where exactly is the Underground Court held?

    Do they draw lots to choose a location each time?

    No way. It must be somewhere central, like La Forge, the Dwarf Kingdom.

    To rify, this assumption was only half correct.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    While the Underground Court was indeed located in La Forge, the dwarves did not physically gather there.

    Whoosh! Whoosh!

    In the magnificent underground court of La Forge, four blue mes erupted.

    These mes, behaving like living creatures, nodded lightly to each other in greeting.

    ¡°Everyone is here.¡±

    As Gordin entered the court, the mes bowed respectfully.

    May the Great me illuminate your path.

    These mes were none other than the leaders of each tribe.

    With the help of the Primordial me, they transcended distances to attend the trial.

    Sitting at the judge¡¯s seat, Gordin looked down at them briefly before nodding.

    ¡°May the burning spirit reside in your creations. Be seated.¡±

    Once the tribal leaders were seated, Gordin spoke.

    ¡°Let the trial begin.¡±

    ¡°Uh, Your Majesty,¡±

    Said the leader of the Red Sand Tribe, cautiously raising a hand.

    ¡°The defendant has not been summoned yet.¡±

    Hearing this, the other tribal leaders nced at the empty defendant¡¯s seat, nodding in agreement.

    ¡°That¡¯s true. This is unprecedented...¡±

    ¡°Could it be that the Primordial me made a mistake?¡±

    ¡°Which tribe does this defendant belong to?¡±

    Frowning at their chatter, Gordin interrupted firmly.

    ¡°The Primordial me does not make mistakes.¡±

    ¡°Excuse me? Then does that mean... the defendant is already here?¡±

    The leaders exchanged suspicious nces, each silently guessing which of them might be the culprit.

    ¡°It¡¯s me.¡±

    Gordin¡¯s sudden confession silenced the court.

    ¡°...Your Majesty? What do you mean by that?¡±

    ¡°I mean that I am the defendant.¡±

    ¡°Hahaha! What a hrious joke, Your Majesty.¡±

    The leader of the ck Hammer Tribeughed boisterously, but Gordin¡¯s icy re cut him off.

    ¡°Does it look like I¡¯m joking?¡±

    ¡°...Wait. Are you serious?¡±

    Realizing the truth, the tribal leaders fell into stunned silence.

    When the ck Hammer leader tried to backtrack, Gordin warned sharply,

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    ¡°If you¡¯re about to congratte me on this ¡®first and only¡¯ achievement, think again.¡±

    ¡°...I¡¯ll just keep my mouth shut.¡±

    After a brief moment of everyone exchanging nervous nces, their attention naturally turned to one figure¡ªsomeone who had not spoken a word since entering the court.

    ¡°Hagor, could it be you who sued His Majesty?¡±

    Under their using stares, the dwarf hastily denied it.

    ¡°Do you think I¡¯ve lost my mind? Of course not. Though... it did happen in my jurisdiction.¡±

    ¡°Tsk. You should have nipped this in the bud. How could you let this escte?¡±

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you ashamed to face the king?¡±

    These lunatics have no problem speaking their minds since it¡¯s not their problem, Hagor thought angrily but stayed silent.

    ¡°Enough. Let the trial begin. Summon the intiff.¡±

    At hismand, a new me erupted.

    Naturally, the figure made of fire seemed amazed by his own form, gazing at his hands and hopping around in curiosity.

    ¡°...¡±

    Gordin squinted at him, his patience wearing thin.

    Finally, the me introduced itself boldly.

    ¡°Greetings! I am Oscar Crucian, a Level 3 mage of the White Tower!¡±

    At his words, the chieftains began murmuring among themselves.

    ¡°A mage? Then he¡¯s human?¡±

    ¡°The White Tower and Oscar, such nostalgic names.¡±

    ¡°Silence, everyone.¡±

    Gordin raised his hand lightly, quieting them, and then asked,

    ¡°So, we finally meet. I am Gordin, King of La Forge.¡±

    ¡°Ah, may the great me illuminate your future.¡±

    ¡°What is the reason you¡¯vee to use me?¡±

    Skipping any further pleasantries, Gordin abruptly asked.

    ¡°That is because Your Majesty has inflicted massive damage upon the White Tower.¡±

    ¡°Massive damage? Let¡¯s hear what kind of damage I supposedly caused.¡±

    Gordin tilted his head slightly as he gripped a massive hammer.

    It wasrge enough to smash a person¡¯s head but, at least here, it was used only for passing judgment.

    ¡­Up until now.

    Oscar, who was calmly enduring the king¡¯s fury, smiled faintly and began.

    ¡°Thirty-two years ago, the White Tower signed an exclusive fifty-year contract with the White Anvil Tribe. However, 17 years ago, an unfortunate incident urred between humans and dwarves. In response, the Dwarf King deredplete istion from humans, severing all rtions. This cut off the White Tower¡¯s ess to the technological prowess of the White Anvil Tribe, leaving us in a situation where the end of this damage is unforeseeable. Thus, we had no choice but to bring thiswsuit against Your Majesty.¡±

    ¡°An exclusive contract, huh... Indeed, I recall something like that.¡±

    Gordin nodded.

    ¡°It seems I was unaware of that detail. My deepest apologies.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Your Majesty.¡±

    ¡°Oh,e now. What¡¯s so difficult about offering a few words of apology? So, does the intiff wish for me to revoke the istion order and restore the White Tower¡¯s rtions with the White Anvil Tribe?¡±

    ¡°No, Your Majesty.¡±

    ¡°Hmm?¡±

    That¡¯s not what they wanted?

    Gordin tilted his head further in curiosity.

    ¡°Then what is it that you want?¡±

    ¡°Your Majesty¡¯s decision to dere istion was indeed a wise one. To think humans dared to kidnap dwarves and force them intobor¡ªsuch greed is appalling. I actually rmend severing rtions with humans entirely for the next hundred years or so.¡±

    ¡°Well... I was already considering that. In fact, we¡¯ve practically been doing so.¡±

    Still, isn¡¯t it odd for a human to take the dwarves¡¯ side so suddenly?

    Just as Gordin¡¯s expression began to turn suspicious, his opponent finally revealed their true intentions.

    ¡°However, I propose maintaining the istion while granting a limited exception for the existing exclusive contracts signed by the White Tower.¡±

    ¡°Ha!¡±

    Gordin let out a dryugh, realizing the scheme behind the suggestion.

    ¡°In other words, you want the White Tower to be the only human faction allowed to trade with dwarves on this continent. Is that it?¡±

    ¡°Well... depending on the perspective, one might interpret it that way.¡±

    ¡°Hah!¡±

    This slippery human!

    What?

    Depending on the perspective?

    That¡¯s just a fancy way of saying they want a monopoly on trade with the dwarves!

    ¡®It¡¯s been 17 years since the istion began. Their weapons would fetch astronomical prices in human society.¡¯

    In short, granting this request would grant the White Tower immense wealth and power.

    ¡®Still, the transparency of their intentions makes it an easy decision.¡¯

    Admittedly, the White Tower had presented a reasonable argument.

    Gordin was indeed unaware of the exclusive contract and bore some responsibility for the damage caused.

    ¡®But so what?¡¯

    This underground court had nowyers or prosecutors¡ªonly the intiff, the defendant, and the judge.

    The judge, Gordin himself, would make the final ruling after hearing both sides.

    He lifted the hammer.

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard the intiff¡¯s argument. However, granting exclusive trade rights to the White Anvil Tribe could create significant resentment among the other tribes. Thus, I decree that the exclusive contracts will resume only when the istion is lifted.¡±

    In simpler terms, the answer was no.

    ¡°To the defendant, I sentence ten minutes ofmunity service within the kingdom. This court is adjourned.¡±

    Bang, bang, bang!

    The heavy sound of the hammer echoed through the courtroom.

    ¡°...Huh?¡±

    Dumbfounded, Hagor stared at Oscar with trembling eyes.

    ¡®He said there was a way to win!?¡¯

    Hadn¡¯t he convened this underground court, even risking the king¡¯s disapproval, based solely on that assurance?

    Then, Oscar calmly raised his hand.

    ¡°The trial has already ended. Do you still have something to say?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty.¡±

    ¡°Proceed.¡±

    ¡°I request a retrial.¡±

    ¡°...What?¡±

    Gordin blinked at the unexpected request.

    A retrial meant challenging the validity of the verdict on the grounds of significant procedural or evidential ws.

    ¡®In other words, he¡¯s saying he can¡¯t ept my ruling.¡¯

    Scoffing, Gordin replied,

    ¡°Do you have new evidence or arguments to overturn the situation?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty.¡±

    ¡°...If that¡¯s the case, why didn¡¯t you present it earlier?¡±

    ¡°For that, I have something to say in private.¡±

    The meaning behind ¡°in private¡± was not lost on Gordin.

    After a moment¡¯s thought, he nodded.

    ¡°Everyone, leave the court and wait until summoned again.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty.¡±

    Fwoosh!

    As the mes of the chieftains dissipated, Gordin asked,

    ¡°So, what is this matter you wish to discuss privately?¡±

    Oscar¡¯s demeanor shifted.

    His previously humble bow straightened into a confident posture.

    ¡®Throughout history, school ties, regional ties, and blood ties were powerful connections.¡¯

    But when the war with the demons began, these superficial connections crumbled.

    On the harsh battlefield, where lives were lost daily, such ties held no value.

    ¡®Instead, a new bond emerged.¡¯

    One forged withrades who entrusted their backs and lives to each other¡ªa bond stronger than family.

    ¡°Hmm.¡±

    Oscar gazed at Gordin, a dwarf who had once served in his unit, whose life he had saved multiple times, and said,

    ¡°Sergeant Gordin, how have you been all these years?¡±

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 Chapter 70

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    Chapter 70: The White Anvil Tribe (4)

    ¡°¡­¡­.¡±

    King Gordin momentarily doubted his ears.

    A word hade from the lips of this young human¡ªso sharp and blue-eyed¡ªthat it was impossible to ignore.

    ¡®Sergeant Gordin?¡¯

    Before he could wonder how the other person knew that term, vivid memories from that time began to flood his mind.

    It had been that long since hest heard those words.

    ¡®Yes, that¡¯s right.¡¯

    Before being addressed as His Majesty the King, he had been known as a prince or even a sergeant.

    They say memories sweeten over time, and the recollections of fighting on the battlefield alongside the great hero, Oscar Sage, resurfaced vividly.

    Gordin, momentarily submerged in nostalgia, quicklyposed himself and asked,

    ¡°How does a young human know that title?¡±

    ¡°What do you think?¡±

    ¡°Hmm. If the White Tower preserved wartime records, you could have read them, or perhaps a connection with¡­ hmm?¡±

    As Gordin answered seriously, he btedly realized that the other¡¯s tone had changed.

    Noticing this, his expression immediately darkened.

    ¡°Such insolence¡ªutterly audacious. Have you forgotten who stands before you?¡±

    ¡°Forgotten? No. Couldn¡¯t forget, even if I wanted to. How could I?¡±

    Oscar chuckled faintly, shrugging his shoulders.

    ¡°Do you know how much time I invested in shaping you into a capablemander?¡±

    ¡°¡­¡­What nonsense are you speaking now?¡±

    ¡°Do you truly not know, or are you pretending not to?¡±

    Whoosh!

    Oscar¡¯s magic filled the courtroom.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    It was a soft, warm energy that stirred nostalgia simply by being present.

    As Gordin recognized that achingly familiar magic, his gaze turned cold¡ªunfathomably so.

    ¡°¡­¡­Are you a pawn of the demon ns? No, there¡¯s no need to ask such questions.¡±

    He could find out for himself.

    Rising from his seat, he gripped the gavel tightly.

    He had encountered countless demons pretending to be his superior and benefactor.

    The reason for such impersonations was simple.

    ¡®Because it¡¯s effective.¡¯

    This was the first instance since the war had ended, but during the conflict, there had been countless such encounters.

    Merely imitating Oscar¡¯s face and magic yielded significant gains.

    ¡®And so, we made a rule among ourselves.¡¯

    The courtroom atmosphere grew oppressive, the air thick with Gordin¡¯s fury and murderous intent.

    ¡®If I¡¯m ever unsure whether the person before me is truly Oscar Sage¡­¡¯

    ¡®Show hostility first.¡¯

    If the person were indeed the real Oscar Sage, they would prove their identity with a passphrase.

    ¡°Let¡¯s start by bringing you to your knees!¡±

    Gordin leapt forward, aiming to strike the figure before him squarely on the head with his gavel.

    But as he did, Oscar moved his lips with a determined expression.

    ¡°If I were to kneel here¡­¡±

    Gordin¡¯s gavel froze inches above Oscar¡¯s head, trembling slightly.

    ring at the human before him, Gordin spoke in a shaking voice.

    ¡°¡­¡­Even if my heart were pierced by thousands of spears and swords?¡±

    Oscar smiled warmly and replied yfully.

    ¡°You¡¯d still have to look up at me.¡±

    It was a passphrase crafted purely to tease Gordin about his stature as a dwarf.

    Every time they exchanged this passphrase, Gordin would huff and puff in fiery indignation, insisting that while he might be short, he¡¯d still be taller than someone kneeling before him.

    ¡®And whenever I suggested we measure, he¡¯d always find some excuse to avoid it.¡¯

    This time, however, Gordin didn¡¯t get angry.

    Instead, he slowly withdrew his gavel and looked at Oscar with a dazed expression.

    ¡°¡­¡­Am I dreaming right now?¡±

    ¡°Why? Did you wish on a star for me to appear in your dreams?¡±

    ¡°Well, seeing how much I want to punch your mouth shut¡­ it seems like it really is you.¡±

    ¡°Sit.¡±

    With a small whoosh, Oscar moved to a seat and gestured.

    ¡°We have a lot to talk about.¡±

    * * *

    When Oscar first awakened in his current, smaller body, he faced a significant dilemma.

    ¡®Should I reveal my identity to anyone? And if so, to whom?¡¯

    It was a question he couldn¡¯t resolve, no matter how many times he deliberated.

    Even for those he thought he knew well, the standard remained strict.

    ¡®For instance, I haven¡¯t revealed myself to Maxim, either.¡¯

    Though he hadn¡¯t yet met his disciples or the emperor, he doubted he would easily disclose his identity to them either.

    One can see ten fathoms into water, but not even one into another¡¯s heart.

    ¡®Too much time has passed.¡¯

    Twenty years¡ªa span more than sufficient to alter a person¡¯s character and values.

    Thus, Oscar made a decision.

    ¡®Fine. If I am to reveal my identity to anyone¡­¡¯

    At most, there were only two people he would consider.

    One was Edna Sol Lace, and the other was Gordin.

    ¡°Wow, you trusted me that much?¡±

    Gordin seemed genuinely moved, but Oscar doused the sentiment with cold water.

    ¡°What are you talking about? Don¡¯t tter yourself. I didn¡¯t trust you¡ªI trusted the Primordial me.¡±

    The dwarves revered and worshipped the Primordial me.

    And for good reason¡ªit was the me that created and sent them into this world.

    ¡®The me that purges all evil in the world.¡¯

    The reason dwarves eternally maintained the appearance of children was rted to this.

    The Primordial me despised those who lost their innocence.

    ¡®Not that there¡¯s any reason their outward appearance needed to match¡­¡¯

    But what could one do if their creator willed it so?

    For this reason, there was no such thing as a bad dwarf.

    It wasn¡¯t just a metaphor; it was a literal impossibility.

    ¡®If a dwarf ever allied with evil or became corrupted, they would burn to death on the spot.¡¯

    No wonder there¡¯s a saying: "You might not trust your parents or children, but you can always trust a dwarf."

    ¡°But I never imagined I¡¯d be tricked by dwarves in a contract scam.¡±

    ¡°A-a contract scam? That¡¯s absurd!¡±

    Gordin flinched and hastily defended himself.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know about the exclusive contract between you all, but even if I had, it wouldn¡¯t have changed my decision.¡±

    ¡°Because protecting the dwarves is the king¡¯s top priority?¡±

    ¡°Exactly. That¡¯s what the Primordial me desires as well. After all, it was humans who were at fault first, wasn¡¯t it?¡±

    That¡¯s true.

    Ahem.

    Clearing his throat, Gordin quickly changed the subject.

    ¡°There¡¯s a lot I want to ask, but first... how exactly did youe back to life?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    Oscar replied irresponsibly.

    ¡°Looking at me like that won¡¯t help. I really don¡¯t know. Besides, it¡¯s not so much that I came back to life; it¡¯s more urate to say I was possessed.¡±

    ¡°Possessed, you say¡­ Someone must¡¯ve meddled with your soul.¡±

    ¡°Probably. When I opened my eyes, twenty years had passed. You¡¯re somewhat aware of the current state of the White Tower, right?¡±

    ¡°I heard that all the disciples left, save for one. And that its prestige isn¡¯t what it used to be.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. I was busy sorting things out right after I woke up. I think I¡¯ve only just started getting things back in shape, and now I¡¯m beginning to move forward.¡±

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    He turned his gaze toward Gordin.

    ¡°I met the Nightmare Baron recently.¡±

    ¡°What!?¡±

    Gordin¡¯s eyes widened in shock.

    ¡°A-are you serious?¡±

    ¡°Of course. But¡­ the information about him was strictly controlled. That made me even more curious.¡±

    Oscar¡¯s eyes darkened.

    ¡°Tell me what the demons have been up to over the past twenty years.¡±

    Information about them couldn¡¯t be found in newspapers or books, as though they had been erased from history, much like the dragons.

    Hearing this, Gordin nodded gravely.

    ¡°It¡¯s true. The imperial family has been controlling information. Demons are a very sensitive topic for humanity. It¡¯s crucial to create an atmosphere where people forget about their existence as quickly as possible.¡±

    ¡°What about the information you know?¡±

    ¡°¡­The most recent I have is from four years ago, when they encountered the Imperial Army near the Red Mountains.¡±

    Four years ago.

    Oscar murmured with a glimmer in his eyes.

    ¡°It didn¡¯t end well, did it?¡±

    ¡°No, surprisingly, they just observed the Imperial Army from a distance and then retreated.¡±

    ¡°¡­What?¡±

    Demons, who loved fighting and despised humans, avoided a battle?

    Gordin¡¯s voice deepened as he read Oscar¡¯s reaction.

    ¡°That¡¯s why the concern is growing. The Imperial Family is even suggesting reforming the World Alliance using that incident as a pretext.¡±

    The World Alliance included not just humans, but dwarves, elves, and faeries as well.

    From past research, Oscar knew it had been disbanded after the war.

    ¡°It¡¯s definitely unsettling. Their behavior is different from the demons we used to know.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ve started to change. It might even be called evolution. What¡¯s important is that such radical changes usually¡­.¡±

    ¡°Have a reason.¡±

    The mostmon reason?

    A change in leadership.

    ¡°As you¡¯ve probably guessed, it¡¯s possible they have a second leader now.¡±

    ¡°¡­A second leader.¡±

    The first leader who unified the demons was the worst kind of enemy.

    Not only was he capable and strong, but also cunning and ruthless.

    ¡®If so, the revival of the Night of the Magic might be tied to this.¡¯

    If the demons were truly rising again, the Empire would also feel the need to reorganize its forces.

    Frowning deeply, Oscar spoke.

    ¡°Have you ever heard of a group called the ck Fingers?¡±

    ¡°You mean those demon worshipers?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Be wary of them. If the demons have really changed, the biggest change will be their approach.¡±

    In the previous war, they trusted their power and confronted humanity head-on.

    They lost everything, including their leader, in a devastating defeat.

    ¡°They must¡¯ve realized that no matter how strong you are, you have to move more cautiously.¡±

    ¡°¡­That¡¯s a terrifying thought.¡±

    Understanding the implication, Gordin swallowed hard.

    The idea that demons might be using the ck Fingers to work in secret was chilling.

    ¡°If that¡¯s true, humanity, softened by twenty years of peace, may not be ready to handle it.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the future we¡¯ve longed for, but it¡¯s still concerning.¡±

    ¡°¡­What will you do?¡±

    ¡°What else can I do? Start with what I can do now.¡±

    Strengthen the White Tower.

    Prepare for the day the demons rise again andunch another war.

    ¡°Speaking of which, I need your help.¡±

    ¡°You mean¡­ the White Anvil n?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. I want to borrow the strength of the dwarves to restore and strengthen the White Tower quickly.¡±

    ¡°Hm.¡±

    After some hesitation, Gordin reluctantly nodded.

    ¡°Personally, I don¡¯t like dealing with humans, but if it¡¯s you, I¡¯ll make an exception.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡±

    ¡°Between us, there¡¯s no need for thanks.¡±

    ¡°True, especially since I helped raise the sheltered prince from La Forge into the man you are today.¡±

    ¡°¡­Quiet.¡±

    Gordin¡¯s face flushed red, and he stood up before more embarrassing stories could be brought up.

    ¡°The Dwarven Kingdom will also maximize external activities to gather information on the demons and the ck Fingers.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m counting on you.¡±

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll summon the n leaders now.¡±

    ¡°Oh, just to be clear¡­.¡±

    ¡°This conversation will remain buried, even in my grave.¡±

    That¡¯s exactly what Oscar expected.

    He smiled softly at his oldrade, who had now be the ruler of a nation.

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 Chapter 71

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    Chapter 71: Delivery Department (1)

    ¡°...Therefore, this presiding judge acknowledges that there were errors in the previous court ruling and, to correct them, hereby grants special permission for interactions between the White Anvil Tribe and the White Tower. Furthermore, considering the fact that the White Tower was unable to utilize the technology of the White Anvil Tribe despite their exclusive contract over the past 17 years, the court orders the renewal of their 50-year exclusive contract. Lastly, this court sentences the defendant¡ªmyself¡ªto two hours ofmunity service, thereby concluding this trial.¡±

    ¡°?¡±

    This was the ruling handed down in a courtroom session that began farter than the scheduled 30 minutes.

    The four leaders who heard it were utterly speechless.

    ¡®What on earth did they discuss during the recess for this to happen¡­?¡¯

    ¡®What kind of grand promise could make a verdict flip 180 degrees like that?¡¯

    ¡®...And yet, His Majesty, the defendant, doesn¡¯t seem to have suffered much damage.¡¯

    Two hours ofmunity service.

    That was the punishment King Gordin had imposed on himself.

    On the other hand, for Hagor, the chief of the White Anvil Tribe, this was news that struck like lightning from a clear sky.

    ¡®From today, another 50 years? A contract renewal?¡¯

    For a dwarf, who could live for hundreds of years, even 50 years was by no means a short time.

    Yet, before he could even voice his frustration, Gordin spoke first.

    ¡°This is the conclusion I, as both the presiding judge and King of La Forge, have reached after careful deliberation. Chief Hagor, you are to faithfully fulfill the renewed contract with the White Tower.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    If one were to be honest, the reason they hadn¡¯t been able to fulfill the original contract was entirely due to His Majesty¡¯s policy of istionism.

    Although words of protest nearly escaped his lips, Hagor managed to suppress them with superhuman restraint.

    ¡°...Understood.¡±

    ¡°Then, I dere this court adjourned. Everyone, return to your daily lives.¡±

    ¡°May the blessings of the Primordial me be with you.¡±

    Woosh! Crackle.

    As the mes of each tribal leader extinguished one by one, only the mes of Oscar and Gordin remained in the courtroom.

    Gordin, gazing down at the remaining mes, offered a word of advice.

    ¡°Be careful. The world has changed greatly, and the demons are beginning to stir again. There was a time when you were humanity¡¯sst hope, but now, you¡¯ve grown weaker, haven¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I was never humanity¡¯sst hope to begin with.¡±

    ¡°...Hah, hahaha!¡±

    Realizing the underlying meaning of those words, Gordinughed heartily.

    ¡°Is that so? Yes, that¡¯s right. This is the Oscar I remember.¡±

    He bid farewell, looking forward to the day they would meet again.

    As he said, Oscar had never been humanity¡¯sst hope.

    ¡°Farewell, the first cmity of the demons, and their eternal nemesis.¡±

    * * *

    ¡°What on earth happened?¡±

    As the mes extinguished and they returned to their physical forms, Hagor immediately pressed for an exnation.

    ¡°...¡±

    Oscar rotated his stiff neck a few times before responding.

    ¡°I pleaded.¡±

    ¡°Pleaded?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I poured my heartfelt sincerity into my plea, and it seems to have moved King Gordin¡¯s heart.¡±

    ¡°That... doesn¡¯t sound like him. He¡¯s not one to be swayed by personal emotions.¡±

    ¡°If not that, how else could such a ruling havee about?¡±

    Hagor had to concede to that point.

    Ultimately, he stopped questioning Oscar.

    ¡®Hmm. I suppose I¡¯ll never know the king¡¯s true intentions unless he shares them himself.¡¯

    With a sigh of regret, Hagor changed the subject.

    ¡°Fine. At any rate, with the permission for interaction secured, how do you think we should proceed with coboration?¡±

    ¡°First, may I ask how many dwarves currently belong to the White Anvil Tribe?¡±

    ¡°Thirty-seven.¡±

    Thirty-seven.

    For one of the five tribes that formed the kingdom, it wasn¡¯t a particrlyrge number.

    ¡®It can¡¯t be helped. Even if you gathered all the dwarves across the continent, their numbers wouldn¡¯t exceed 500.¡¯

    This only underscored the importance of their unity.

    Each member of their race was precious.

    ¡°In that case, the first step should be preparing for relocation.¡±

    ¡°Relocation? Are you suggesting we move to the White Tower?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I believe it would be more efficient.¡±

    Currently, there were plenty of empty floors in the White Tower.

    It was even possible to dedicate an entire floor solely for the White Anvil Tribe.

    Oscar raised two fingers.

    ¡°If the White Anvil Tribe resides in the White Tower, there are two advantages.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. One would be improved work efficiency, eliminating unnecessary travel time.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. The other is for your safety.¡±

    ¡°Safety...? Ah!¡±

    Reestablishing rtions between dwarves and humans would inevitably draw the attention of those who found it distasteful.

    Some groups might attempt to meddle, using any means possible.

    ¡°Now that we¡¯re one family, the safety of the White Anvil Tribe is the responsibility of the White Tower.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. While our tribe isn¡¯t weak, your words do provide reassurance.¡±

    After some thought, Hagor nodded.

    ¡°Very well. We¡¯ll begin preparations for relocation.¡±

    ¡°...Are you sure you don¡¯t need to consult the other dwarves?¡±

    Decisions made unterally by a leader sometimes risk internal discord.

    To this, Hagor chuckled dryly.

    ¡°There¡¯s no need for that.¡±

    He then shouted to the dwarves who had been eavesdropping on their conversation from the shadows.

    ¡°Pack your things! We¡¯re moving to the human world!¡±

    ¡°Woohoo!¡±

    ¡°Drinks! Let¡¯s drink first!¡±

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    As if they had been waiting for this very moment, the dwarves began their preparations with impressive speed.

    ¡°Hah, it seems they were eager to return to the surface?¡±

    ¡°Seventeen years is not a short time for us either. Naturally, they¡¯d grow restless and tired of their secluded underground lives.¡±

    Despite the flurry of activity, the dwarves didn¡¯t seem to have much to pack.

    ¡°...Is that all the luggage you need?¡±

    ¡°Of course. If we need anything, we¡¯ll simply make it.¡±

    ¡°Indeed, with our craftsmanship, there¡¯s nothing we can¡¯t create.¡±

    This mindset of creating whatever theycked was quintessentially dwarven.

    What they carried consisted only of their hammers, tools, and the primordial me.

    After surveying them briefly, Oscar nodded.

    ¡°Good. Let¡¯s set out.¡±

    To the White Tower.

    * * *

    Oscar, leading the White Anvil Tribe into the White Tower, stood tall with broad shoulders and a confident stride.

    And why not? He had seeded in reopening rtions with the dwarves after a 20-year hiatus.

    Unfortunately, the expressions on the other mages¡¯ faces were far from respectful.

    ¡°Oscar, who are those kids?¡±

    ¡°Did you bring the neighborhood kids here for a tour of the tower?¡±

    ¡°Hey, kids, no running in the hallways, okay? Listen carefully to your guide, Oscar.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t go touching everything just because it looks cool.¡±

    ¡°......¡±

    To their eyes, the 37 dwarves looked no more than children on a school outing.

    At this, Hagor¡¯s expression grew noticeably sullen.

    ¡°Oscar, who are these idiots?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re... well, the mages of the White Tower.¡±n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

    ¡°Hmph. I¡¯ve suddenly lost all motivation to work. Feels like I¡¯d rather just head back.¡±

    ¡°Please bear with it a little longer. I¡¯ll send out a proper notice and exnation soon.¡±

    Goren, who had been listening to their conversation, cautiously asked,

    ¡°On the way here, I saw arge market. Can we buy liquor there?¡±

    ¡°Ah, I¡¯ll inform the shops in advance. If dealing with humans directly feels inconvenient, we can procure liquor for you separately.¡±

    ¡°No, no! I want to buy it myself!¡±

    ¡°So... so we¡¯re finally going to be able to buy liquor like the Red Sand Tribe?¡±

    ¡°No more pretending to be pitiful and begging, saying, ¡®Please, it¡¯s just an errand for my dad¡¯...¡±

    ¡°Haha, for the first time, I feel good abouting to the surface.¡±

    The dwarves¡¯ faces lit up with excitement as if they were really on a field trip.

    At that moment, loud bickering could be heard not far away.

    ¡°How long do we have to keep being the only ones working ourselves to death?¡±

    ¡°Sigh, how many times do I have to say it? You¡¯re not the only ones suffering! We¡¯re working hard, too!¡±

    ¡°Hard? You think brewing a few potions is hard? We¡¯re carrying heavy loads across the city all day!¡±

    ¡°...Did you just call it ¡®a few potions¡¯? Who do you think you have to thank for your raised sries?¡±

    Watching the argument, Hagor grabbed his belt and shook it as he asked,

    ¡°Oscar, who are these fools fighting at the entrance of the tower in broad daylight?¡±

    ¡°Hm. They¡¯re the mages from the Potion Department and the Delivery Department.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t hard to figure out why they were arguing based on their conversation.

    ¡°It seems the Delivery Department, which works more outside the tower, feels their workload is heavier and isining about it.¡±

    ¡°So, it¡¯s essentially a conflict between blue-cor and white-cor workers.¡±

    ¡°...Dwarves know about things like that?¡±

    ¡°Of course. But isn¡¯t this something that could be solved by rotating personnel between departments periodically?¡±

    ¡°Well... brewing potions isn¡¯t exactly a simple task.¡±

    The current members of the Potion Department were the same ones who had helped Oscar create the vine for Cadena Flu.

    Since then, they¡¯d been working non-stop brewing potions, to the point where they were now experts in the task.

    ¡®If we assign them to delivery for fairness, it¡¯ll immediately disrupt potion production.¡¯

    Even if the recipe was shared, brewing potions required skill and experience.

    Oscar rested his chin on his hand, deep in thought.

    ¡®But thinking long-term, the Delivery Department¡¯sints are valid.¡¯

    The delivery mages weren¡¯t unskilled or low-level; they had simply been unlucky. They weren¡¯t selected to join the potion team when Oscar was initially recruiting mages for vine production, so they were stuck with delivery work.

    ¡°...I¡¯m an outsider, but this doesn¡¯t look like a good situation.¡±

    ¡°I think so too.¡±

    The White Tower had just started generating ie and beginning to look like a proper magic tower.

    It hadn¡¯t yet regained the status it had once held among the Four Great Towers.

    In other words, there was still a long way to go.

    ¡®Factional conflicts like this are a bad sign.¡¯

    Especially when disputes between departments like the Potion and Delivery teams persisted, they could eventually form factions.

    For a budding organization like the White Tower, such divisions could cripple growth.

    Oscar¡¯s lips curled into a twisted smile.

    ¡®If that ever happens, I won¡¯t stand idly by.¡¯

    The White Tower had only reached this point because of his tireless efforts over the past few months.

    He wouldn¡¯t let it stagnate or regress because of petty factionalism.

    ¡°It looks like we need to deal with this issue first.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Do your best.¡±

    ¡°Why do you talk as if this doesn¡¯t concern you?¡±

    Oscar grinned at Hagor.

    ¡°Sorry to spring this on you as soon as we arrive, but let¡¯s get to work right away.¡±

    ¡°What? I thought we were getting drinks first...¡±

    ¡°The situation is urgent, isn¡¯t it? Once we¡¯re done, I¡¯ll make sure you can drink until you¡¯re stuffed.¡±

    Hagor trembled involuntarily.

    For some reason, memories of being worked to the bone by Oscar Sage came flooding back.

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 Chapter 72

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    Chapter 72: Delivery Department (2)

    ¡°So, in other words...¡±

    Lately, he seemed to have developed a hobby of observing the different expressions of the Deputy Tower Master.

    Since he rarely shows his emotions, every time he makes a different face, it¡¯s quite amusing.

    ¡°Are you telling me... the White Anvil chieftain is currently in the hallway?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Goodness, I did hear that Sir Oscar nned to visit their city alone, but...¡±

    He never thought he¡¯d bring him back so easily.

    Honestly, he had assumed he¡¯d return empty-handed without even meeting the man.

    Even the White Tower had been attempting to establish contact with them every year but never seeded.

    ¡°What exactly did you offer to persuade him?¡±

    ¡°I tempted him with an airship.¡±

    Oscar revealed the secret to how he managed to convince the White Anvil n.

    Upon hearing this, the Deputy Tower Master pped his hands in admiration.

    ¡°Of course! Drinking beer above the clouds¡ªthat¡¯s enough to tempt even someone like me, who doesn¡¯t particrly enjoy alcohol.¡±

    ¡°Now imagine how irresistible it would be for dwarves, whose lives revolve around drinking.¡±

    This was the chance to be the first dwarves in history to drink alcohol above the clouds.

    It was an offer they couldn¡¯t and wouldn¡¯t want to refuse.

    ¡°There¡¯s no time to waste. Please bring the chieftain inside.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    Oscar opened the door and gestured to Hagor, who had been waiting with a sullen expression in the hallway.

    As he entered the room, the Deputy Tower Master rose to greet him.

    ¡°Hamel Grimwiz, Deputy Tower Master of the White Tower. It¡¯s been a long time.¡±

    ¡°Indeed, about 13 years, if I¡¯m not mistaken?¡±

    Hagor, arms crossed, raised his chin confidently.

    Though his childlike appearance robbed him of any real intimidation.

    ¡°It¡¯s hard to believe so much time has passed already.¡±

    ¡°To humans, it must feel like quite a stretch. You¡¯ve aged a fair bit yourself.¡±

    Seated now, Hagor extended his hand.

    ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve been briefed, so I¡¯ll count on you going forward.¡±

    ¡°Briefed? About what exactly...?¡±

    ¡°Hm? You mean you haven¡¯t been told yet?¡±

    Hagor gave Oscar a sharp look, as if to ask what on earth they¡¯d been talking about until now, before exining directly.

    ¡°Our White Anvil n will now reside in the White Tower. The exclusive contract has been renewed for another 50 years, so we¡¯ll be seeing a lot of each other.¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master¡¯s pupils shook at these words.

    Who were the dwarves, after all?

    Their touch alone could skyrocket the value of any item¡ªa miracle-working race.

    And now their skills would be at the White Tower¡¯s disposal for the next 50 years?

    ¡®Especially in a time when all contact with the dwarves has been severed¡­¡¯

    This was nothing short of a monopoly, an undisputed im to unparalleled technology.

    Even just selling their crafted equipment could make Sirin the wealthiest city on the continent.

    As the Deputy Tower Master suppressed an inward scream of joy, Oscar spoke up.

    ¡°I think it would be ideal to dedicate an entire floor as a massive workshop for their operations. What do you think?¡±

    ¡°Of course, of course! Absolutely, no objections at all.¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master sprang up immediately, fetched a floor guide from a drawer, and began flipping through it.

    ¡°These are the currently unused floors. Do you have a preference?¡±

    ¡°Hm.¡±

    Hagor looked through the booklet before pointing to a choice.

    ¡°The 13th floor looks good. The floors above and below are empty, so we can be as noisy as we want.¡±

    ¡°Understood. If you need any materials, don¡¯t hesitate to let us know.¡±

    There was no such thing as noiseints in the Magic Tower.

    In other words, Hagor had deliberately chosen a location where he wouldn¡¯t have to deal with other humans.

    ¡°Then, for the time being, you can rest while setting up your workshop and amodations¡ª¡±

    ¡°No, that won¡¯t do.¡±

    It was Oscar who cut off the Deputy Tower Master¡¯s kindness.

    Ignoring Hagor¡¯s sharp re, he continued.

    ¡°On the way in, I noticed that the tension between the Potion Department and the Delivery Department seems to have worsened. Is that correct?¡±

    ¡°...Sigh. Yes, it seems they¡¯ve shed again.¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master nodded with a heavy sigh.

    ¡°That¡¯s right. I¡¯ve been racking my brain for a solution that could satisfy both sides, but everything takes time. And abandoning the Potion Department¡¯s sales isn¡¯t an option, either.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why I have a suggestion.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Let¡¯s hear it.¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master¡¯s eyes lit up.

    After all, this wouldn¡¯t be the first time Oscar¡¯s ingenuity had resolved a crisis.

    With all eyes on him, Oscar spoke.

    ¡°This is the perfect opportunity to overhaul the Delivery Department.¡±

    ¡°Overhaul? In what way?¡±

    ¡°First and foremost, the biggest issue is inefficiency. Right now, the Delivery Department employs a significant number of mid-level and senior mages.¡±

    ¡°...I can¡¯t deny that.¡±

    ¡°If we reassign those personnel to magical research or contract work, most of theints will disappear.¡±

    ¡°But we can¡¯t just shut down the delivery service, especially with airshipsing into y in the future.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I understand. Which is precisely why we need to address this now.¡±

    Once the airship wasplete, the White Tower would soar to new heights¡ªliterally.N?v(el)B\\jnn

    To have it hindered by inefficiencies at that point would be unthinkable.

    ¡°I believe it would be ideal to have a few mid-level mages oversee and manage the department.¡±

    ¡°And who would handle the actual deliveries?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll need to recruit new couriers.¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master groaned at this response.

    ¡°Oscar, the White Tower¡¯s delivery service is entirely dependent on the existence of the Flight spell. Where exactly do you expect to find people who can meet that requirement?¡±

    ¡°We already possess the technology to operate airships. We¡¯ll use it.¡±

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    ¡°...That technology?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    Oscar used magic to sketch an image in midair.

    The first thing he drew was arge ship.

    ¡°Airships can carry massive amounts of cargo. However, while this will create a new trade category for the Delivery Department, it won¡¯t be very useful for deliveries within the city.¡±

    ¡°True. Airships are far toorge for that.¡±

    ¡°So, we should develop miniature airships, both for practical use and as a way to gather data.¡±

    Next to the ship, Oscar sketched a two-wheeled vehicle.

    ¡°Have you heard of bikes?¡±

    ¡°Of course. They¡¯re one of the vehicles developed by the Yellow Tower, smaller and simpler than cars. But...¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master blinked.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t that project get abandoned by the Yellow Tower due to battery limitations?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s correct. Whilerge vehicles can be equipped with massive batteries and run for over 10 hours, the maximum running time for these bikes was barely 2 to 3 hours.¡±

    Because of this, most people involved in bike-rted businesses went bankrupt.

    At the current level of technology in the Yellow Tower, it was impossible to create smaller or more efficient batteries.

    ¡°But don¡¯t we have Ouroboros?¡±

    ¡°That magic is only used to power airship engines or¡ªoh!¡±

    Finally realizing what Oscar was implying, the Deputy Tower Master eximed in astonishment.

    ¡°You¡¯re suggesting we modify the bike to turn it into a miniature airship that can fly!¡±

    ¡°Exactly. Of course, it will be challenging to significantly reduce the weight and modify it to carry cargo¡­¡±

    Oscar nced sideways at Hagor.

    ¡°We have the best cksmiths on the continent to make it happen.¡±

    ¡°Hmmph.¡±

    Hagor let out a groan, sensing what kind of task awaited him.

    ¡°So, basically, you¡¯re asking me to modify this bike into something that even ordinary people can ride?¡±

    ¡°Exactly. Going forward, we¡¯ll hire civilians, train them, and only allow those whoplete the training to work as delivery personnel. Naturally, the most essential feature will be theft prevention. It¡¯s crucial to make it so that only qualified individuals can operate and ride it.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. If it¡¯s going to fly through the air, we won¡¯t need wheels. In that case, we can remove the wheels and move the cargopartment to the rear.¡±

    Though he pretended to dislike the idea, Hagor became deeply engrossed in the project once it was assigned.

    After all, he was a dwarf artisan who found creating new things the most exciting challenge.

    ¡°I¡¯d have to see this ¡®bike¡¯ myself, but I think its shape will change quite a bit. From what I¡¯m envisioning, it might end up looking a bit like a sleigh.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care about the shape, but please make it as stylish as possible. Later, I¡¯ll provide a sample of the magical battery developed by Elder Schwein. It would be great if you could allocate space for it.¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master, who had been listening to their discussion, spoke up.

    ¡°Oscar, listening to all this, it seems like this approach will take some time, won¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Yes, it will take quite a while. First, we¡¯ll need to recruit new employees and provide thorough training on bike operation. Naturally, we¡¯ll need to weed out any spies or individuals with poor character during the process.¡±

    ¡°Then isn¡¯t it impossible to quell theints of the delivery department in the meantime?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine. Let them go on strike.¡±

    ¡°?¡±

    Oscar casually dropped the bombshell as though it were nothing.

    ¡°I¡¯m giving us exactly two months to reorganize and runch the business.¡±

    ¡°Halting a business for two months is practically suicidal¡­¡±

    ¡°Deputy Tower Master. Even if we suspend the delivery business, no one is going to take it over.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡­¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master mulled it over briefly before nodding.

    It was true; everyone already thought this unprofitable business was a foolish endeavor.

    In 15 years since its inception, not a singlepetitor had emerged.

    ¡°Hmm. This might be a good opportunity to remind people of the convenience and importance of delivery services.¡±

    ¡°Though not intentional, people will certainly express significant dissatisfaction.¡±

    There¡¯s a term called ¡°reverse adaptation.¡±

    It means that once people get used to something convenient and beneficial, its sudden disappearance makes the gap feel all the more pronounced.

    ¡®Especially with services like delivery, which people take for granted.¡¯

    At the peak of their inconvenience, the White Tower would return with a vastly improved service.

    ¡°And one more thing. Since civilians, not mages, will handle deliveries in the future, we¡¯ll be able to operate with far more personnel than before. In other words, we can scale up the business.¡±

    ¡°Business expansion? Are there fields to expand into through delivery?¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master raised a question, and Oscar smirked.

    ¡°Yes. It will be more expensive than regr delivery, but it will be entirely different from the multi-day delivery services currently avable. It will be a premium service where you can request a delivery in real-time, and it arrives within an hour.¡±

    Everyone has those days.

    When you¡¯re toozy to lift a finger but crave delicious food from a restaurant in town.

    Or when you need to urgently send someone something but can¡¯t go there yourself.

    ¡°Our newly expanded service, Wind Riders, will be the perfect solution for those situations.¡±

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 Chapter 73

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    Chapter 73: Delivery Department (3)

    ¡°¡®Wind Tribe,¡¯ huh¡­ Is there a particr reason you chose that name?¡±

    At Hagor¡¯s question, Oscar smiled faintly.

    There was indeed a reason for deliberately naming the new business "Wind Tribe."

    ¡°Yes, there is. It¡¯s a kind of advertising technique. Every time people use the service, the word ¡®wind¡¯ will subconsciously remind them that the business is operated by White Tower.¡±

    ¡°Hm. A branding effect, you mean? If the service is satisfactory, it¡¯ll definitely make White Tower¡¯s image more familiar and approachable.¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master, who was listening to the conversation, nodded in agreement.

    ¡°This is a strategy that Yellow Tower uses quite well.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. Say what you want about them, but they excel in things like this.¡±

    Modern life is filled with items derived from magical engineering: refrigerators that keep drinks cool, heaters to warm cold weather, cars for long-distance travel, and even light bulbs and streetlights to brighten dark nights¡ªall products of magical engineering.

    ¡°They always highlight the name ¡®Yellow Tower¡¯ whenever they release a new magical engineering product.¡±

    However, while this approach is undeniably effective, it can also prize opinions.

    The tant attempt to imprint the name Yellow Tower on people''s minds is too obvious.

    "That¡¯s why we¡¯ll infiltrate their daily lives and thoughts gradually, naturally."

    Wind Tribe.

    Oscar liked how the name rolled off the tongue.

    ¡°Two months, you said. That¡¯s tighter than I expected. I assume the first task will be producing vehicles?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s correct.¡±

    Without vehicles, they couldn¡¯t even start hiring and training new employees.

    ¡°Hm. Oscar, in your opinion, how many units will we need to begin?¡±

    ¡°Since we¡¯re starting small, servicing only Sirin and a few nearby territories...¡±

    Oscar held up five fingers.

    Hagor nodded, understanding.

    ¡°Fifty units? That should take about three days.¡±

    ¡°No, I meant 5,000 units.¡±

    ¡°¡­What!?¡±

    Hagor let out a long sigh at the absurd number.

    ¡°Haah. Look here. No matter how skilled we are, our craftsmanship prioritizes quality, which makes production slower. In other words, producing 5,000 units in two months is absolutely impossible. Don¡¯t forget, we also need time to hire and train civilians.¡±

    There wasn¡¯t a single w in Hagor¡¯s reasoning.

    However, there was one thing he had overlooked.

    ¡®I know better.¡¯

    Oscar knew exactly how fast the White Anvil Tribe could work and how much efficiency they could achieve when pushed to their limits.

    Perhaps no one on the continent understood this better than he did.

    ¡°If we were building from scratch, you¡¯d be right. But didn¡¯t I mention earlier? Modification.¡±

    ¡°Wait, are you saying¡­?¡±

    ¡°Yes. We¡¯ll buy second-hand bikes already avable in the market and modify them. That will significantly reduce production time.¡±

    After running the calctions in his head, Oscar concluded that a single dwarf could modify about ten bikes a day.

    With 37 dwarves working tirelessly, they could finish in 14 days.

    Hagor, seemingly doing the same mental math, coughed and spoke up.

    ¡°Ahem. If we use that method¡­ give me a month. I¡¯ll ensure 5,000 units are ready.¡±

    ¡°A month? Really?¡±

    Oscar wasn¡¯t going to let them ck off from the start.

    He immediately shortened the timeline.

    ¡°I¡¯ll give you ten days. If each of you modifies just 14 units a day, that should be enough.¡±

    ¡°Fourteen a day?! That¡¯s insane!¡±

    Hagor shrieked.

    Modifying 14 units a day would mean eating, sleeping, and everything else in just three hours, then modifying one bike every 90 minutes.

    ¡°That level of work isn¡¯tbor¡ªit¡¯s torture! Torture! If we continue such grueling efforts for ten days straight, people are bound to get injured!¡±

    ¡°Hmm, is that so?¡±

    Feigning ignorance, Oscar replied with an innocent expression.

    ¡°Then let¡¯s extend it to 14 days¡ªtwo weeks. At a rate of 10 units a day, surely that¡¯s manageable?¡±

    ¡°Ten a day¡­¡±

    That would leave seven hours of rest per day, requiring a modification every 100 minutes.

    Still a heavy workload, but much more feasiblepared to the earlier proposal.

    ¡®Plus, it¡¯s something we dwarves can handle.¡¯

    Realizing this, Hagor narrowed his eyes at Oscar.

    Was this man aware of their capabilities and setting these conditions ordingly?

    ¡°Have you ever watched dwarves work before?¡±

    ¡°Of course not. This is actually my first time meeting dwarves. I¡¯ve only read about them in documents.¡±

    ¡°Documents, huh¡­¡±

    Given Oscar¡¯s intelligence, perhaps he estimated their productivity through paperwork.

    ¡®But is that even possible?¡¯

    As Hagor struggled to make sense of it, Oscar spoke in a soft, reassuring tone.

    ¡°Consider this a preliminary exercise for building airships. Surely, the process will yield valuable data.¡±

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s true¡­¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll allocate six days for setting up the workshop and two weeks for modifying the bikes. That makes a total of 20 days.¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡±

    In reality, setting up the workshop wouldn¡¯t take six days.

    Four to five would suffice.

    Hagor, choosing not to mention this, slowly nodded.

    ¡°That seems reasonable... very well.¡±

    ¡°But, Oscar, acquiring second-hand bikes will take quite some time, won¡¯t it?¡±

    At the Deputy Tower Master¡¯s concern, Oscar shared his well-prepared n.

    ¡°As I understand it, most bike rental businesses in the western and northern regions have gone bankrupt.¡±

    In hindsight, this was inevitable.

    Bikes only ran for two to three hours and required good roads.

    This made them unsuitable for the deserts in the west and the mountainous terrain in the north.

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    ¡°Exactly. In the east, where roads are well-maintained, or in the south, where people can enjoy coastal drives, short travel times make bikes popr for sightseeing. But in the west and north, they werepletely shunned.¡±

    ¡°All we need to do is buy the leftover inventory they¡¯ve been stuck with.¡±

    In fact, if they offered to purchase the entire stock, the sellers would likely express gratitude.

    After all, bankrupt businesses would want to recover as much as possible.

    ¡°The prices won¡¯t be high either. The southern and eastern markets are already saturated, so there¡¯s no need to flood them with more inventory.¡±

    ¡°Impressive. You¡¯ve done your homework.¡±

    ¡°Well, I just read the newspaper a lot.¡±

    After all, skipping sleep leaves plenty of time for research.

    Those bankrupt businesses wouldn¡¯t be able to sell more than a few bikes at a time through individual buyers.

    If someone offered to take everything at once, the price could be negotiated even lower.

    "That''s brilliant!"

    The Deputy Tower Master pped his hands in admiration.

    "Then I shall handle the purchase of used bikes together with Elder Fidelina."

    "Understood. In that case, I¡¯ll prepare a public notice to post on the bulletin board."

    A magical notice that would melt the hearts of the mages in the delivery department.

    * * *

    Thud, thud.

    As Uber Leiden, a Wind Rider, stepped into the lobby of the White Tower, he let out a long sigh.

    It was because the customer he¡¯d encountered just before clocking out turned out to be a proper troublemaker.

    ¡®Seriously, why is this my problem when they¡¯re the one who bought the wrong product in the first ce?¡¯

    No matter how many times he told them that they¡¯d have to discuss returns and refunds of magical engineering items with the Yellow Tower, they wouldn¡¯t listen.

    Talking to them was like talking to a wall, leaving him frustrated and boiling with anger.

    ¡®¡­At this rate, I might actually die young from stress. Maybe I should seriously consider transferring.¡¯

    Working in the delivery department did have its rewards, sure.

    But this wasn¡¯t what he became a mage for.

    Before he grew any older, perhaps transferring to another tower and pursuing the research he truly wanted to do was the right choice.

    Just as Uber was seriously pondering this, amotion broke out near the bulletin board.

    "What is this? Is it real?"

    "It''s a notice on the bulletin board. It can¡¯t possibly be fake."

    "So that means¡­ they¡¯ve finally decided to shut down the delivery service?"

    "Looking at the recent performance of the potion business, it wouldn¡¯t be impossible."

    The murmurs and bustle drew Uber¡¯s attention, and he cautiously approached the board.

    A new notice had been posted there.

    [Notice of Delivery Service Suspension.]

    "Huh?"

    Uber¡¯s eyes widened as he quickly read the notice.

    [Effective two months from now, on February 15, the majority of the delivery department¡¯s operations will be temporarily suspended. Until that date, all Wind Riders are to focus solely on delivering subscription-based nutritional supplements. Afterward, you may choose your desired task or department for transfer. Additionally, bonuses befitting your hard work will be provided. We sincerely thank all the mages in the delivery department for their efforts thus far.]

    The message was brief but incredibly bold.

    "Suspending delivery services and offering transfers¡­"

    In essence, they were saying that after being freed from delivery duties, riders could pursue whatever they wanted¡ªwhether it was magical research, taking onmissions, or personal training.

    And this was exactly what every rider in the department had longed to hear.

    ¡®Well, it¡¯s good news for me since it¡¯s what I¡¯ve been hoping for, but¡­¡¯

    Still, as a mage of the White Tower, Uber couldn¡¯t help but feel worried.

    The wording of the notice seemed to imply aplete withdrawal from the delivery business.

    ¡®If they entirely pull out of delivery services, wouldn¡¯t that also impact the nutritional supplement business? That business is unique because of its door-to-door sales model¡­¡¯

    Frowning deeply in thought, he was interrupted.

    "Excuse me, please move aside! A new notice has just arrived!"

    Another mage approached and pinned a fresh notice onto the board.

    One of the delivery staff watching muttered nervously.

    "Don¡¯t tell me the previous notice was a mistake or something like that¡­"

    "Come on, it¡¯s not like today¡¯s April Fool¡¯s Day¡­"

    Even as they dismissed the idea, uneasy nces darted toward the new notice.

    [Job Recruitment Notice]

    Employment Type: Full-time

    Job Description: Delivery and order fulfillment

    Applicant Requirements: Physically agile, with good bnce, upright character, and a strong sense of responsibility

    Preferred Qualifications: Magic users

    Special Notes: Non-mages may also apply

    "?!"

    "Weren¡¯t they nning topletely withdraw from delivery services? Wait, more importantly¡­"

    Non-mages could apply?

    How were ordinary people supposed to fly through the skies?

    After reading the notice, everyone¡¯s heads were filled with question marks, floating thick and fast.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om

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 Chapter 74

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    Chapter 74: The Delivery Department (4)

    The heart of the East, Rouen.

    A certain door burst open with a loud bang in the city where the Yellow Mage Tower stood!

    ¡°D-Director of the Magical Engineering Department!¡±

    ¡°......¡±

    Unperturbed by the rude intrusion of the Intelligence Department head, Tony gave him a curious nce.

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve found something.¡±

    ¡°...Don¡¯t tell me this is about the task I assigned you a few days ago? That¡¯s awfully quick.¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s about a topic that briefly came up in a meeting weeks ago. I¡¯ve discovered that the White Tower has been buying up magical engineering papers andrge quantities of levitating stones.¡±

    Recalling the conversation from back then, Tony nodded slowly.

    ¡°I remember. So, what did you find out?¡±

    ¡°The answer is bikes.¡±

    ¡°Hmm?¡±

    Bikes?

    Could it be the bikes he was thinking of?

    As Tony tilted his head, the Intelligence Director grinned smugly.

    ¡°Do you remember the report I gave you three or four months ago about the bike rental business?¡±

    ¡°Of course. It was a failure in the mountainous north and the desert west.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. It didn¡¯t just fail; it was a catastrophic copse. Back then, the rentalpany owners were desperately trying to sell off their bikes everywhere.¡±

    ¡°They were, indeed.¡±

    Tony vividly recalled the desperate pleas of those who even approached the Yellow Tower, begging to sell the bikes for even half the price.

    Of course, the Yellow Tower had no intention of buying them back, as they had already deemed bikes a failed product and had exited the market.

    ¡°And now you¡¯re telling me the answer is bikes? Are you saying the White Tower bought up all those heaps of scrap metal?¡±

    ¡°Huh? How did you know?¡±

    ¡°...?¡±

    Tony¡¯s eyes widened at the unexpected response.

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand. They bought them? Why?¡±

    ¡°Considering their past purchases of magical engineering tools and levitating stones, it seems they¡¯re nning to modify the bikes for some purpose.¡±

    ¡°...The most likely use would be for delivery.¡±

    ¡°Ah, but that might not be it.¡±

    The Intelligence Director lowered his voice as he spoke.

    ¡°There are rumors that the White Tower is nning to withdraw from the delivery business.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re pulling out of delivery and yet bought bikes? That doesn¡¯t make sense.¡±

    ¡°Well, maybe they¡¯re nning to start a new business. Delivery doesn¡¯t make money, after all.¡±

    He spoke nonchntly, but Tony thought differently.

    ¡®The north and westbined had over 5,000 bikes in operation.¡¯

    Purchasing all that stock wouldn¡¯t have been cheap, even at drastically reduced prices.

    ¡®Are they nning to use those for a new business?¡¯

    It made no sense. Even if the White Tower had profited handsomely from potions, business ventures still needed a semnce of logic.

    ¡®Above all, Fidelina Chase, the White Tower elder, is a financial genius.¡¯

    She had kept the White Tower afloat for years on meager revenues, which was proof enough.

    So, if they were doing this, it must mean they were confident about something.

    ¡®What could it be?¡¯

    A shiver of unease ran down Tony¡¯s spine, a sensation he deeply disliked.

    To think he would feel such apprehensioning from the White Tower of all ces.

    ¡°Find out exactly what the White Tower is nning with those bikes.¡±

    ¡°Leave it to me.¡±

    ¡°And have you uncovered the reason for the information ckout from Vince?¡±

    ¡°......¡±

    At that question, the Intelligence Director¡¯s expression grew heavy.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I tried to use our usual insiders, but they were terrified and refused, saying their lives were at risk.¡±

    ¡°Is it that serious?¡±

    Recently, information from the distant Vince territory and its surrounding areas had beenpletely cut off for about a day.

    ¡°Yes. It seems the Imperial Family ssified the information as top-secret.¡±

    ¡°Top-secret, huh?¡±

    That was the highest level of ssification in the Imperial Family¡¯s system.

    Feeling an ominous unease, Tony shifted his gaze back to his documents.

    ¡°...Keep digging.¡±

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    * * *

    As morning broke, a familiar face appeared in the room.

    ¡°Wow, I finally found you.¡±

    Fran Sirius.

    Without hesitation, he stepped inside,ining as he went.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never met a novice mage as busy as you. Where have you been running off to?¡±

    ¡°Here and there. Busy with things.¡±

    Thinking back, it had been a long time since they¡¯dst met.

    Was it before hunting the Heavenly Silkworm and heading to Baran?

    After that, even upon returning to the Mage Tower, there was no time to meet due to intensive training.

    ¡°Pfft, you clung to me like glue, promising to teach me everything, but now...¡±

    Fran pouted, but judging by his improved magical prowess, he hadn¡¯t been idle either.

    ¡°For someoneining, you¡¯ve trained pretty hard on your own.¡±

    ¡°Of course. Did you think I¡¯d just ck off without you?¡±

    Fran retorted bluntly, and with a whoosh, one of his arms disappeared.

    At the same time, a cool breeze brushed past, like a fan had been turned on.

    ¡°I can now partially turn parts of my body into wind.¡±

    Partially, huh.

    Though not fully, it seemed he had ovee his trauma to some extent.

    ¡°What do you mean by ¡®partially¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Only my limbs for now. I¡¯m still too scared to try with my head or heart.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s more than enough. You¡¯ve done well.¡±

    In any case, the head or heart would likely transform into wind instinctively in a crisis.

    That¡¯s how it had worked even before he began training.

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t havee just to see my face. You¡¯re stuck, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    Fran averted his gaze at Oscar¡¯s blunt question.

    ¡°...Actually, yeah. I¡¯m not sure how to make use of this ability. So I came to hear your thoughts.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. If you had to fight Lazli again right now, how would you use it?¡±

    "Not sure. Probably like this."

    As Fran finished speaking, one of his arms turned into wind, radiating a sharp, cutting energy.

    He had transformed his entire wind-arm into a Wind Cutter.

    "Wouldn¡¯t I use this? That way, even a knight wouldn¡¯t be able to approach me easily."

    "Not a bad idea, but¡­"

    Personally, I found it a little disappointing.

    That¡¯s because Fran¡¯s physical abilities were far inferiorpared to mine or Killian¡¯s.

    "If you decide on such a growth direction this early, you¡¯ll hit a limit sooner than you think."

    Meeting a knight or mage skilled in closebat would make him powerless in an instant.

    Perhaps Fran already knew this, as he let out a heavy sigh.

    "I know. That¡¯s why I came to you. I wanted that brilliant brain of yours toe up with an idea."

    "Brilliant brain, huh¡­"

    Though it had nothing to do with being brilliant, I already had an answer to his dilemma.

    The first Wind Spirit wielder, the 7th Tower Master.

    We could refer to hisbat methods.

    "Follow me to the training hall."

    It was already the second time I¡¯de to the training hall with Fran.

    I handed a weapon to the figure standing idly by.

    "Here, take this."

    "¡­What¡¯s this? It looks like a whip."

    "That¡¯s because it is a whip. From now on, it¡¯s the weapon you¡¯ll practice and master."

    Fran¡¯s face immediately showed displeasure.

    Understandably so; whips were notoriously difficult weapons to handle.

    "Why a whip, of all things?"

    "Because it¡¯s the weapon that best suits your abilities."

    A whip¡¯s lethality ranks among the highest of melee weapons.

    First, its range surpasses that of a spear, and its speed is unparalleled.

    Even without magic, it can break the sound barrier in an instant, making it the only weapon capable of such a feat.N?v(el)B\\jnn

    "It¡¯s also incredibly destructive. If it hits properly, it can literally tear skin apart."

    "¡­If it¡¯s so great, why don¡¯t people use it?"

    "Because it has a few fatal ws that overshadow all those advantages."

    I gestured lightly with my hand.

    "Instead of exining, it¡¯s faster to show you. Try swinging it at me."

    "If it rips your skin off or something¡­ No, forget it."

    Realizing who he was worrying about, Fran swung the whip with all his might.

    Crack!

    The whip instantly broke the sound barrier,shing toward me.

    I caught it effortlessly.

    "Your hand¡­! Are you okay?"

    "I¡¯m fine."

    Thanks to the gentle breeze enveloping me, this level of attack was easy to catch.

    Seeing that I was unharmed, Fran let out a sigh of relief.

    "¡­Monster. Let go of it already. I can¡¯t retrieve the whip while you¡¯re holding it."

    "That¡¯s the first major w of this weapon."

    Looking at the taut whip, I continued.

    "Using a whip involvesrge preparatory motions, making its trajectory easy to predict for a sharp-eyed opponent. And if the whip gets grabbed like this, the fight¡¯s over. It¡¯s a weapon that puts everything into offense butcks any defense."

    Every single one of these ws was critical.

    That¡¯s why the whip, despite its superior speed and destructive power, was dismissed as a mainstream weapon.

    "But what if you covered this whip with the Wind Spirit?"

    "¡­Huh?"

    Fran seemed to realize something at that moment.

    The whip vanished from my grasp, dissipating into the wind.

    He had easily retrieved it, a look of amazement on his face.

    "So, for someone like me, the whip can¡¯t be grabbed, right? Since no one can grasp the wind."

    "And if you turned the whip into wind, making it invisible, predicting its trajectory or timing would be nearly impossible."

    On top of that, wind breaking the sound barrier would be difficult to counter, even if visible.

    "In short, with the Wind Spirit, you can nullify all the whip¡¯s weaknesses."

    "¡­Hearing you exin it like that, it sounds like the ultimate weapon."

    Staring at the whip in his hand, Fran spoke up.

    "But wouldn¡¯t the whip¡¯s destructive power be weaker if it turned into wind?"

    "Good question. You¡¯re right. If it were simply eroding surfaces with wind, there¡¯d be no need to use a whip."

    After all, the world is full of better weapons.

    However, the 7th Tower Master came up with a brilliant way to eliminate even thatst weakness.

    "There¡¯s an intermediate spell I¡¯m currently restoring from the White Tower archives. Want to learn it?"

    "Of course! What¡¯s the spell called?"

    "Breath of Steel."

    It¡¯s a spell that makes any wind the user controls as solid as steel.

    Combining this spell with the Wind Spirit would make Fran¡¯s whip the perfect weapon.

    An invisible force, faster than sound, would target his enemies¡¯ lives.

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 Chapter 75

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    Chapter 75: The Delivery Department (5)

    Whoosh! Whip-crack!

    Oscar deftly dodged the iing whip.

    Catching it barehanded, like he had done a few days ago, was out of the question now.

    ¡®Even with the wind protecting my hands¡­¡¯

    The whip Fran wielded had now be as dangerous as a sword.

    Crash!

    The whip struck the training room wall, shattering it into pieces.

    Staring at the crumbling wall, Oscar asked,

    ¡°Had enough?¡±

    ¡°Huff, huff...¡±

    Fran, exhausted after a few swings of the whip, copsed on the floor of the training room.

    ¡°I... I can¡¯t... I can¡¯t anymore¡­¡±

    His trembling body made it clear this wasn¡¯t an act.

    In mere moments, his stamina and mana werepletely drained.

    ¡°Hmm. The power is definitely impressive, but your endurance needs work.¡±

    The attack had enough force to instantly incapacitate anyone it hit.

    Its destructive potential was unquestionable.

    ¡®Steel wielded at supersonic speed. It¡¯s almost invisible to the naked eye.¡¯

    Few intermediate mages or knights could withstand such an attack with ease.

    ¡°Keep practicing this consistently. Let¡¯s aim for... being able to swing it freely for about ten minutes.¡±

    ¡°Huff, huff... Ten minutes? I can barely manage three swings before my arms give out!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll get there someday.¡±

    ¡°Easy for you to say when it¡¯s not your problem,¡±

    Fran grumbled, pouting as he sat up.

    The energy he had burned was so intense that his face looked noticeably thinner.

    ¡°But thanks. At least you¡¯ve given me a clear direction for my efforts.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good to hear.¡±

    A clear direction for effort.

    For someone training, nothing was more important than that.

    Wasting decades or centuries on pointless tasks would still yield nothing but futility.

    ¡°But it feels bad to keep receiving help without giving anything in return. Is there something I can do for you?¡±

    ¡°Not right now. But think of it as me holding onto a favor token.¡±

    One day, Fran¡¯s newfound strength would surelye in handy.

    ¡°...Why does calling it a favor token suddenly make me feel uneasy?¡±

    Muttering to himself, Fran extended his fist.

    ¡°Fine. If you ever need my help, just say the word. That¡¯s what friends are for, right?¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    Friends.

    Oscar mulled over the word before smiling faintly and bumping fists with him.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be going now.¡±

    * * *

    A few dayster, thousands of motorcycles were lined up in front of the White Tower of Sirin.

    Maxim clicked his tongue in amazement at the sight.

    ¡°This is quite the spectacle, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    ¡°It certainly is. Even I¡¯ve never seen so many motorcycles gathered in one ce before,¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master admitted honestly.

    Thanks to the rentalpany doing some maintenance, every bike looked as good as new.

    The sea of motorcycles stretching into the distance resembled an army of machines.

    ¡°So this is a motorcycle. It¡¯s my first time seeing one in person.¡±

    ¡°I thought it would be simr to a bicycle, but it¡¯s much bigger and heavier than I expected.¡±

    ¡°It definitely has an overwhelming mechanical feel to it. Almost intimidating, in a way.¡±

    The dwarves, their appetites whetted, were already imagining how to disassemble and modify the machines.

    Even with their tight schedule, nothing delighted them more than this sort of work.

    ¡°There are 5,231 in total. The numbers match perfectly.¡±

    ¡°Seeing the real thing makes my hands itch. Alright, boys! Move them to the workshop!¡±

    Of course, they didn¡¯t use the elevator to move all 5,000-plus motorcycles to the 13th floor.

    That would¡¯ve paralyzed the tower.

    ¡°Magic really is convenient.¡±

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s magic for you.¡±

    The massive windows on the 13th floor were thrown open, and the motorcycles were levitated inside with magic.

    Naturally, many mages helped out, giving the public a brief glimpse of the workshop.

    ¡°Wow, so that¡¯s what they were building on the 13th floor¡ªa workshop?¡±

    ¡°I guess the rumors about the kids Oscar brought in being dwarves are true.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s insane. If that¡¯s the case, Sirin is the only ce on the continent capable of producing dwarf-crafted equipment.¡±

    Onlookers gawked at the dwarves, mouths agape, while Oscar, overseeing the work, spoke up.

    ¡°Hagor, make sure to meet the deadline.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t rush me before we¡¯ve even started!¡±

    Grumbling, Hagor quickly scurried away, not wanting to hear more nagging.

    Until the motorcycle modifications wereplete, Oscar had little to do.

    He turned to Fidelina and asked,

    ¡°How¡¯s the civilian recruitment for the delivery departmenting along?¡±

    ¡°Over 40,000 have applied as of today. Applications keep pouring in so fast that we can barely keep up with reviewing them.¡±

    A satisfied smile crossed her face.

    ¡°Of course, we¡¯ll have to see how many of them are actually worth hiring.¡±

    Over 40,000 already.

    Even with high wages on offer, that was an impressive turnout.

    ¡®Then again, it¡¯s not surprising.¡¯

    There was a general belief that projects led by magic towers rarely failed.

    And even though the White Tower¡¯s glory had faded, it was still one of the Four Great Towers.

    Offering high sries while recruiting from such a position of prestige¡ªit was natural that so many people would apply.

    ¡®How many of them are trulymitted, though¡­¡¯

    That wasn¡¯t worth worrying about.

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    Once they came for interviews, it would be the department¡¯s job to make them want to join the White Tower¡¯s new delivery business.

    ¡®What I really need to focus on is that man.¡¯

    Oscar subtly approached a tall, slender man standing behind the elders.

    ¡°Hello, senior.¡±

    ¡°Hmm? Ah, Oscar.¡±

    Pedro X, a 6th-level mage and the temporary head of the delivery department.

    Rumor had it his greatest wish was to leave the delivery business behind and dedicate himself to magic research.

    Naturally, his ultimate goal would be to be a 7th-level high mage.

    ¡°Congrattions.¡±

    ¡°Congrattions? What for¡­ Ah.¡±

    Pedro gave a shy smile and nodded.

    "It''s all thanks to you. I don''t fully understand it yet, but you''re saying that using those bikes, even regr folks can make deliveries, right? Thanks to that, I can finally start focusing on magic research."

    "Do you not usually do magic research?"

    "I squeeze it in here and there, but there''s just not enough time. At this rate, I''ll never reach level 7 in my lifetime."

    The pure passion for learning he disyed made him look like a mage straight out of a storybook.

    ''And yet, he''s also apetent head of the delivery department.''

    Mages are rarely ordinary.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

    Most are entric, stubborn, and intensely opinionated.

    Yet this man had managed to guide, appease, and sometimes even scold such individuals into doing their jobs over the past several months.

    That alone proved he was a perfect fit for his position.

    ''Which makes it all the more impossible to let him go.''

    You might want to postpone your journey to level 7 magic for a little while longer.

    Oscar thought, sping his hands behind his back.

    "But do you really have to resign as the head of the delivery department? It seems like a perfect calling for you."

    "I''ve only been acting as a temporary head because no one else wanted to take the role. My true goal is magic research. Now that the system is in ce, surely someone will be willing to take over."

    "Still, isn''t it better for someone experienced to continue? The delivery department will be quite busy at first after the restructuring, and a novice head is bound to make mistakes."

    "...."

    Pedro''s eyes narrowed slightly, a trace of suspicion glimmering in his gaze.

    "What exactly are you trying to say?"

    "I just want you to stay in your position, that''s all. Like you''ve been doing up until now."

    "I''ll say it again: my goal is magic research."

    "Heh."

    Oscar let out a cryptic smile and continued.

    "Magic research¡ªit''s wonderful. I love it too. But you know what?"

    He formed a small circle with his thumb and forefinger and shook it lightly.

    "Magic research costs a lot of money. You know that better than anyone, don''t you?"

    Leaning in slightly, he whispered something into Pedro''s ear.

    Pedro''s eyes widened in shock.

    "What? What? The sry increase is that much?"

    "Shh! Keep your voice down. It''s confidential."

    Calming him down, Oscar resumed speaking.

    "And that''s not all. You''ll also receive incentives."

    "Incentives?"

    "Yes. A portion of the monthly revenue and profits from the delivery department will be allocated to the department head."

    "Ah... if that''s the case, then..."

    Pedro, who knew the department''s earnings inside out, responded indifferently.

    Oscar caught the hint of disinterest and smirked.

    "You just thought the amount wouldn''t be much, didn''t you?"

    "Ahem. I was just calcting it in my head, that''s all."

    "Pedro, you know Elder Fidelina''s strictness when ites to finances, right?"

    "....Of course, better than anyone."

    How many times had he gritted his teeth trying to negotiate even a penny more for operational expenses?

    There were times he thought it might be easier to take on a reconnaissance mission in the Red Mountain Range.

    "That very same person has invested arge sum of money into these bikes. Do you know why?"

    "Because she''s confident she can recoup it?"

    "Exactly. There''s a good chance the delivery department''s revenue might even surpass the potions department''s."

    Oscar leaned in again and discreetly shared how much he, as the head of the potions department, earned in incentives.

    "My goodness. You earn that much?!"

    "Not at first. You know the potions department wasn''t doing well initially, right?"

    "Well, yes, that''s true."

    "I worked hard for just over three months. Thanks to that, I don''t really have to intervene much anymore. I just review sales reports every month and spend the rest of my time on magic research."

    "Three months..."

    Pedro X swallowed hard.

    The potions department had started from nothing and climbed to its current status.

    ''Meanwhile, the delivery department already has a solid foundation.''

    For over ten years, they had essentially monopolized the market without any realpetition.

    In other words, a few months of effort could lead to a golden future.

    Still, Pedro remained skeptical.

    "...If it''s such a great position, why don¡¯t you take it? There''s no rule against managing two departments at once, is there?"

    "Why would I? I''m perfectly satisfied with my current life. Besides, one should stick to what they know best. If I were to take on something I know nothing about and mess it up, who would be responsible?"

    "...."

    "I''m only saying this because I care about you. You''ve worked so hard; you deserve to be rewarded. If you endure a little more hardship now, your life will flourish. I just worry you might pass up this golden opportunity."

    Hardship, reward, opportunity, passing it up.

    Each word was carefully chosen, like a tter of the top four vors at a popr ice cream shop.

    "Ahem."

    One could almost hear the mental calctor in Pedro''s head churning out results.

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 Chapter 76

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    Chapter 76: The Special Operations Division (1)

    The White Tower, which had finally found some peace, was quiet.

    The White Anvil tribe was busy modifying bikes on the 13th floor, and the squabbles between the delivery and potion departments had died down.

    ¡®I¡¯ve finally got some free time, but¡­¡¯

    Unfortunately, there wasn¡¯t much room to ck off.

    He needed to draft the recruitment criteria and training programs for the uing ¡°Wind Tribe¡± hires.

    ¡®First, for the hiring criteria, focus on criminal records and personality. For the training content, base it on the royal family¡¯s established driving test¡­¡¯

    While his pen steadily created a detailed manual, there was a knock at the door.

    ¡®Who could it be at this hour?¡¯

    Turning his attention to the door, Oscar froze.

    He couldn¡¯t sense any presence beyond it.

    ¡®Someone skilled enough to evade my magic detection?¡¯

    To his knowledge, only a handful of people in this tower could do that.

    And even among those few, none had any reason to conceal their presence.

    ¡®Which means, it¡¯s most likely an outsider.¡¯

    Oscar pressed himself close to the door and asked,

    ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡±

    Silence.

    As the chilling atmosphere caused his eyes to narrow, a voice finally broke through.

    - I¡¯m here on behalf of the royal pce.

    It wasn¡¯t something he could easily ignore.

    At the same time, ament from the lord of Vince before he left came to mind.

    "They¡¯ll likely send someone from the royal pce to meet you soon."

    So the time hade.

    Swallowing hard, Oscar prepared for any sudden attack as he slowly opened the door.

    Standing in the corridor was a tall man dressed in a suit, hands sped behind his back.

    Wearing a broad smile, the man spoke warmly,

    ¡°May Ie in?¡±

    ¡°...Please do.¡±

    The man stepped inside, quickly scanning the room before pausing.

    ¡°Do you share this room with someone else?¡±

    ¡°I live alone. Why do you ask?¡±

    ¡°Hmm. It¡¯s part of my job to examine theyout of a space as soon as I enter. Just by doing that, I can glean a bit about its upant¡¯s personality. But this room... it feels like it holds two personas.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    Oscar was taken aback.

    He hadn¡¯t expected someone to deduce so much just from the state of his room.

    ¡°Impressive. So what do you make of it?¡±

    ¡°Normally, it would mean the room has had multiple upants. But if that¡¯s not the case, then the owner has undergone a significant change. For instance...¡±

    The man¡¯s smiling eyes met Oscar¡¯s.

    ¡°...Something like amnesia.¡±

    ¡°...Wow, that¡¯s uncanny. Look at the goosebumps on my arm.¡±n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

    Oscar held out his arm in amazement.

    The man chuckled heartily, scratching the back of his head.

    ¡°Oh,e on. This is just what I do for a living, but I¡¯m ttered.¡±

    ¡°Truly impressive. Oh, by the way, I¡¯m Oscar Crucian, a 3rd-level mage of the White Tower.¡±

    In response, the man pulled a card from his inner pocket and handed it over.

    ¡°Neb Graim, Special Investigation Bureau under the Royal Ministry of Internal Affairs.¡±

    ¡°The Royal Ministry of Internal Affairs... Special Investigation Bureau...¡±

    Oscar had never heard of such a department.

    It must have been established after his previous life.

    ¡°Forgive me, I¡¯m not well-versed in royal institutions. What exactly does your bureau do?¡±

    ¡°Hmm, well, we handle all sorts of things, but our primary mission is straightforward.¡±

    With a bright smile, Neb answered,

    ¡°To track and trace the presence of demons hiding within thisnd.¡±

    ¡°...Are there demons within the Empire?¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s to say? Assuming not a single one has infiltrated this vast Empire would be a bit optimistic, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    ¡°This could be a long conversation. Please, have a seat. Would you like something to drink?¡±

    ¡°No need, thank you. Time is short, so I¡¯ll get straight to the point.¡±

    Seated on the sofa, Neb asked,

    ¡°How did you resolve your mana loss?¡±

    Starting with the hard questions, huh?

    After organizing his thoughts for a moment, Oscar responded,

    ¡°I can tell you, but I need one assurance.¡±

    ¡°What kind of assurance?¡±

    ¡°That you¡¯re an ally. That you¡¯re someone I can trust with my secrets.¡±

    ¡°Being from the royal pce isn¡¯t enough... Ah.¡±

    Realizing the implication of Oscar¡¯s words, Neb nodded.

    ¡°Fair enough. I rushed in too eagerly. There¡¯s a process for this, after all.¡±

    He pulled a document from his pocket and signed it.

    ¡°This is a pledge issued by the El Terra Church. Read through it and sign if you¡¯re satisfied.¡±

    ¡°Let me confirm it first.¡±

    After inspecting the document, Oscar nodded.

    ¡°It¡¯s genuine.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re quite the skeptic. Not that I¡¯mining¡ªit¡¯s apliment, honestly.¡±

    Neb¡¯s faint smile suggested he was genuinely impressed.

    ¡°Nowadays, people tend to trust anythingbeled ¡®royal.¡¯ It makes my job easier, sure, but it¡¯s worrisome. What if I weren¡¯t actually from the royal pce?¡±

    ¡°Indeed, people today can be ratherx about their personal security.¡±

    ¡°Exactly my point.¡±

    The pledge¡¯s terms were simple:

    If any of Neb¡¯s words¡ªpast or future¡ªwere false, he would burn to death on the spot.

    On the other hand, Oscar faced minimal risk; the parchment would simply turn red if he lied.

    ¡°You¡¯re okay with such one-sided terms?¡±

    ¡°Of course. It¡¯s all about earning trust.¡±

    After signing, Oscar spoke.

    ¡°Does this mean that if you are from the Imperial Court, you work exclusively for His Majesty, the Emperor?¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    Neb, who was used to testing others but not being tested himself, nodded his head.

    ¡°That¡¯s correct. The Special Division is a direct organization under His Majesty, and we follow only his orders.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡±

    He didn¡¯t know the current power dynamics of the Imperial Court or who held key positions.

    The only person he could trust in this situation was the Emperor himself.

    ¡°Then, could you answer my question now?¡±

    ¡°Oh, the Mana Loss Syndrome? It¡¯s simple. I wasn¡¯t a victim of it.¡±

    ¡°¡­Excuse me? What do you mean?¡±

    A slightly flustered Neb nced at the Pact Scroll, but its color remained unchanged.

    ¡°I mean it literally. My body¡¯s circuits were intentionally sealed by someone.¡±

    ¡°¡­Intentionally? Do you have any idea who the culprit might be?¡±

    ¡°That much, I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°Hmm, you must have gone through a tough time.¡±

    Oscar didn¡¯t respond and merely gave a bitter smile.

    Little Oscar had indeed suffered, but iming it as his own experience feltplicated.

    ¡°I¡¯ll report this to the Imperial Court. We need to investigate whether it was the act of a jealous mage, a faction, or perhaps even demons.¡±

    ¡°If you do that, I¡¯d be grateful.¡±

    ¡°You know why I visited today, don¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Yes, it¡¯s because of the incident in the Vince territory, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s correct.¡±

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    Neb borated further.

    ¡°Did you know this isn¡¯t your first encounter with demons?¡±

    ¡°¡­I had no idea.¡±

    ¡°The Cadena Flu that spread in Vince was also a case where demons were involved. Since they can¡¯t act directly in the continent, they likely¡­¡±

    ¡°Relied on the ck Fingers.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. And nting the Heavenly Silkworm Egg in the Magic Power nt was also their doing. The traces match those of a ck Finger operative we¡¯ve been tracking, so we¡¯re 100% certain.¡±

    Oscar¡¯s brows furrowed.

    The ck Fingers were proving far more active than he had anticipated.

    ¡°Why would they betray humanity to side with demons?¡±

    ¡°Our investigations suggest it¡¯s to be what they call the ¡®New Humanity.¡¯¡±

    ¡°New Humanity¡­ A ck Finger operative I dealt with in Vince said the same thing. What is that?¡±

    ¡°Simply put, humans transformed to resemble demons. They call it a blessing and coborate with demons to achieve this state. We call them ¡®Demonic Humans.¡¯¡±

    ¡°That sounds impossible¡­¡±

    ¡°We think so too. For now, it¡¯s just a rumor; no evidence has surfaced yet.¡±

    Neb¡¯s gaze deepened.

    ¡°However, over the years, demons have been conducting various experiments using monsters. We suspect their ultimate goal is to mass-produce Demonic Humans.¡±

    ¡°¡­.¡±

    As the atmosphere in the room grew heavy, Neb skillfully changed the topic.

    ¡°Our organization has a significant interest in you, Mr. Oscar.¡±

    ¡°Me?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Although your level is low, your encounters with demons have been abnormally frequent. Recently, you even survived an indirect encounter with the Nightmare Baron.¡±

    True enough.

    Whether by design or coincidence, every case he touched seemed to be connected to them.

    ¡°For this reason, His Majesty has issued an order to reexamine the drug cartel, Happy End. He suspects they may not be just a cartel.¡±

    ¡°Haha, surely not.¡±

    Oscarughed awkwardly.

    If that were true, it would mean every incident he¡¯d been involved in since arriving here was tied to demons.

    ¡°Well, I agree it sounds far-fetched. But you never know. If they¡¯re connected to the ck Fingers, you might be caught in a whirlwind of destiny far greater than you imagine.¡±

    With those enigmatic words, Neb checked his watch and stood up.

    ¡°It¡¯s gettingte. I should take my leave. Onest piece of advice, out of personal goodwill¡ªfocus on building your track record.¡±

    ¡°My track record?¡±

    ¡°Yes, your record with the White Tower. Without more aplishments, you might face difficulties during the White Night Festival.¡±

    ¡°¡­.¡±

    This was undoubtedly a warning about the ¡°Expulsion from the Four Towers¡± motion.

    Oscar¡¯s expression hardened as he nodded.

    ¡°Thank you for the advice.¡±

    ¡°Well, even without my advice, you¡¯ll soon find yourself in a position to build those aplishments.¡±

    A position to build aplishments?

    Oscar wanted to ask more, but Neb tore the Pact Scroll and gave him a slight nod.

    ¡°Then, I¡¯ll take my leave. We¡¯ll be watching.¡±

    ¡°¡­.¡±

    Watching him, huh?

    Would that gaze hold only goodwill?

    * * *

    The next day, after lunch, Oscar was summoned by the Deputy Tower Master.

    The room, as always, was filled with the crisp scent of phytoncides.

    ¡°You really like pine needle tea, don¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°The scent is pleasant, and it helps clear the mind. I drink it often.¡±

    With a soft pour, Deputy Tower Master Hamel filled a cup.

    ¡°How was your meeting with the Imperial envoy?¡±

    ¡°So, you knew?¡±

    ¡°Well, they were meeting a White Tower mage, so we received a report.¡±

    Oscar nodded.

    ¡°Yes, the discussion went well.¡±

    ¡°Good to hear. Did they say anything about aplishments?¡±

    ¡°How did you¡­?¡±

    ¡°The Imperial Court sent an official directive. Each Magic Tower is to establish a new department.¡±

    He had a hunch about the department¡¯s purpose.

    ¡°Is it to counter the ck Fingers?¡±

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s part of it, but it¡¯s not the sole purpose.¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master smiled faintly as he continued.

    ¡°The official name is the Special Operations Department. In short, Special Ops.¡±

    ¡°Special Ops¡­ What would they be tasked with?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ll handle incidents in the northern territories, including Sirin. Think of it like the Magic Power nt incident.¡±

    In other words, a department for handling all the messy, misceneous tasks.

    Then, a suspicion crossed Oscar¡¯s mind, and he asked:

    ¡°Are you telling me this because¡­?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master nodded.

    ¡°The Imperial Court specifically requested that you, Oscar, lead this department for the White Tower.¡±

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 Chapter 77

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    Chapter 77: The Special Operations Division (2)

    ¡®Still the same as ever.¡¯

    It was a natural feeling upon hearing the words of the Deputy Tower Master.

    After all, the reason the royal family had entrusted him with the Special Operations Division was crystal clear.

    ¡®Sure, I¡¯ve been making a bit of a name for myself over the past few months, but at the end of the day, I¡¯m still just a beginner mage.¡¯

    It wasn¡¯t as though he was a tremendous talent or someone they were betting on for his infinite future potential.

    So, why would they trust him with such a special unit?

    The answer was obvious.

    ¡®Neb Grime. That man mentioned it.¡¯

    In his organization, they held a profound interest in him.

    The reason was simple: his contact rate with the ck Fingers was abnormally high.

    The royal family¡¯s perspective likely wasn¡¯t too different.

    ¡®They¡¯re probably thinking that if they assign me this unit, I¡¯ll inevitably cross paths with the ck Fingers.¡¯

    It felt as if they were treating him like an efficient bait, a method very characteristic of how the royal family operated.

    Oscar let out a faint sigh and asked:

    ¡°How about the team members?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll need to personally select up to ten mages at level four or below. Toorge a team bes unwieldy, so ten should suffice.¡±

    Selecting up to nine mages below level four.

    That wasn¡¯t a bad condition at all.

    It essentially meant he could hand-pick a team to his liking.

    ¡°Will there be support provided?¡±

    ¡°Of course. The Special Operations Division will receive joint support from both the royal family and the Magic Tower, offering you various conveniences.¡±

    Joint support from the royal family and the Magic Tower.

    That meant not only abundant resources but also bypassing a host of tedious procedures.

    ¡°Most importantly, since the division¡¯s work involves handling information, you¡¯ll have ess to all level-two and below intel thates into the White Tower.¡±

    For someone whose only information source thus far had been newspapers, this was a godsend.

    Though it wasn¡¯t like he had any other choice, this arrangement was starting to seem quite positive.

    ¡°I understand. If possible, I¡¯d like to finalize the restructuring of the delivery department before taking on this role. Is that eptable?¡±

    ¡°Of course. In any case, you won¡¯t have much to do until then.¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master smiled faintly.

    ¡°Sirin is a peaceful city, after all.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s true.¡±

    ¡°Oh, and there¡¯s a reward prepared for you as well.¡±

    ¡°A reward?¡±

    Oscar blinked, letting out a small gasp.

    ¡°Oh, you mean for the results from thest training session.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. It¡¯s something that will bring significant changes to the White Tower¡¯s basic curriculum in the future.¡±

    A reward.

    Considering even Fidelina had told him to look forward to it, it seemed like it wasn¡¯t going to be anything trivial.

    As Oscar¡¯s eyes sparkled with anticipation, the Deputy Tower Master ced something on the table.

    Nametes, identification cards, and a letter.

    ¡°And this is...?¡±

    ¡°First, these nametes and IDs serve as proof that you¡¯re now a professor of the White Tower. Your field is theoretical magic.¡±

    A professor of the White Tower.

    The power that title carried was far greater than expected.

    ¡®It¡¯s not evenparable to being the head of the potion department.¡¯

    It meant he wouldn¡¯t need to go to great lengths to prove himself wherever he went across the continent.

    That title alone would likely grant him immediate entry into the royal pce.

    ¡°But¡­ is this really okay? I¡¯m still just a level-three mage.¡±

    A professor at a Magic Tower was a reflection of the tower¡¯s caliber.

    In the four great towers, professors were typically at least level six mages, with notable academic reputations or solid research papers.

    ¡®Sure, my past papers hold some authority in basic magic, but still...¡¯

    The title of level-three mage was a ring issue.

    For the White Tower, it wasn¡¯t exactly a ster decision.

    Oscar cautiously voiced his concern.

    ¡°I¡¯m deeply grateful, but wouldn¡¯t it be wise to reconsider this?¡±

    ¡°Oscar, your knowledge more than qualifies you for this position. Every elder of the White Tower unanimously agreed.¡±

    ¡°Even so¡­¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no need to worry.¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master gave him a warm look, evoking memories of his mentor and stirring gentle emotions.

    ¡°Even if the White Tower¡¯s prestige has diminished, it¡¯s not so feeble as to fail to boast of the extraordinary talent of its mages. The Magic Tower is a shelter for its mages.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    There would undoubtedly be plenty of gossip.

    Especially from the Blue Tower,peting with the White Tower in the field of potions, who would leap at the chance to attack.

    ¡®They know all of this.¡¯

    In fact, they likely understood it better than anyone else.

    Yet they still decided to grant him this, fully aware of the hassle it would entail.

    They were willing to bear that burden for the sake of a single mage belonging to the White Tower.

    ¡°I¡¯ll do my best not to tarnish the reputation of the tower.¡±

    ¡°Good. And you must stop drinking every day like you used to.¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master added a small jest, then nced at the letter.

    ¡°In fact, the main reward is this.¡±

    ¡°What could this letter possibly be¡­?¡±

    ¡°Open it and see.¡±

    Urged by the expectant gaze of the Deputy Tower Master, Oscar opened the letter, his eyes widening in surprise.

    "We invite you to the embrace of the shimmering gxy."

    ¡°D-Deputy Tower Master¡­ Is this¡­¡±

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    ¡°Yes. It¡¯s an invitation to meet the Sage of the Stars.¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master¡¯s face lit up with satisfaction, as though anticipating his delight.

    While Oscar looked pleased, he also hesitated, asking cautiously.

    ¡°Is it really okay for someone like me, still just a level-three mage, to receive something so precious? I heard each Magic Tower only distributes five of these invitations annually.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s true. But after much discussion among the elders, they concluded that considering the value of the breathing technique and training method you discovered, this was the least they could do.¡±

    Well, the value of those techniques was indeed extraordinary.

    Almost instinctively nodding, Oscar stared at the glittering invitation card.

    ¡®In my past life, I didn¡¯t meet the Sage of the Stars until I was a level-six mage.¡¯

    He had expected to meet the sage at around that time again, but the opportunity hade far sooner than anticipated.

    Still, it was too soon to celebrate.

    There was one concern nagging at him.

    ¡®I¡¯m not sure if he¡¯ll agree to meet me.¡¯

    It wasmonly known that one could only meet the Sage of Stars once in a lifetime.

    This meant that there was also a possibility the Sage might not grant him an audience this time.

    Even though his appearance had changed, the soul inside was still that of Oscar Sage.

    ¡®I won''t know for sure until I go meet him myself.¡¯

    After organizing his thoughts, Oscar looked at the Deputy Tower Master and replied,n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    ¡°...If you insist, then I¡¯ll ept it gratefully.¡±

    * * *

    Back in his room, Oscar floated in mid-air, crossing his arms, with a book in hand.

    Considering the future, it was better to practice flying whenever possible, even while reading.

    Swish.

    The wind turned the pages of the book on its own.

    [In the Magic Towers, there is a concept of performance. The annual performance determines the evaluation of each Magic Tower. Naturally, talented mages aspire to belong to well-evaluated towers, and towers strive to achieve high performance to attract such talent for the next year.]

    It seemed the performance concept of the Magic Towers hadn''t changed much over the years.

    Well, it wasn''t particrly wed even back then.

    Oscar''s gaze deepened.

    ¡®The elements that make up a tower''s performance can be divided into three main parts.¡¯

    The first, of course, was achievements in magic and research.

    Since the Magic Tower itself was a ce for exploring truth, this part was the most important.

    ¡®The key point is how many excellent spells, theories, or restorations were achieved in a year.¡¯

    If he were to cite an example, developing the cure and vine for the Cadena Flu would fall under this category.

    Of course, the profits earned from it weren¡¯t included in the performance.

    The emperor who had introduced the concept of performance centuries ago did not want the Magic Towers to turn into merchants.

    ¡®The second factor was how many high-level mages were produced.¡¯

    This particr category, he recalled, had the highest score weight.

    Having more powerful mages was directly tied to national power, after all.

    ¡®But relying on just these two methods made achieving consistent annual performance difficult.¡¯

    Meaningful magic research typically took at least five years.

    Producing 7th-level mages or higher was even rarer.

    If such feats were achieved annually, the Great Demon Emperor would have been hunted down immediately upon his appearance.

    ¡®So the quickest way for Magic Towers to boost their performance is¡­¡¯

    Oscar¡¯s eyes scanned the pages.

    [In reality, most towers focus on sending their mages on assignments to boost their performance. These range from small individualmissions torger-scale agreements with specific factions or cities.]

    ¡®As expected, it¡¯smissions.¡¯

    This was likely the very reason the concept of "performance" was established in the first ce.

    It was a clever design.

    Magic Towers, though sworn to loyalty to the empire, were not under directmand.

    Yet by sending their mages to solve the empire¡¯s various issues voluntarily, the system ensured mutual benefit.

    ¡®And our White Tower is mostcking in this area ofmissions.¡¯

    It was only natural.

    With few high-ranking or intermediate mages, the White Tower wouldn¡¯t receive many requests.

    ¡®We don¡¯t even have much advanced magic avable.¡¯

    The advanced spells owned by the tower were probably limited to those known by the Deputy Tower Master and the elders.

    Incidentally, Sasha¡¯s position as Tower Master was likely rted to this.

    ¡®Only the Tower Master and their sessor can ess all of a tower¡¯s advanced spells.¡¯

    Since Sasha was a direct disciple he had personally chosen as his third apprentice, her talent was extraordinary.

    This likely exined why she was appointed as Tower Master¡ªso she could master all the advanced magic avable.

    ¡®In short, I need to make up for theck of performance through the Special Operations Division.¡¯

    It was clear that what Neb Grime had mentioned about performance opportunities referred to the Special Operations Division.

    The division likely dealt with major incidents, providing bigger chances to umte performance than ordinarymissions.

    ¡®But the problem is that I only have one body.¡¯

    While other towers were deploying thousands of mages to resolvemissions, trying to match their performance single-handedly was nearly impossible.

    Though, he had managed it once before.

    ¡®The performance we gained by executing the Demon Emperor during the Night of Purge was absolutely monumental.¡¯

    Even now, twenty yearster, the imperial family recognized the White Tower as one of the Four Great Towers.

    This spoke volumes about how overwhelming that achievement had been.

    ¡®But since I¡¯ve been warned that failing to secure performance could be dangerous during the White Night Festival¡­¡¯

    He had to build performance through major incidents.

    Of course, major incidents were not something one could handle alone.

    It was time to recruit members for the Special Operations Division.

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 Chapter 78

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    Chapter 78: The Special Operations Division (3)

    The people he would recruit into the Special Operations Division will be his hands and feet in the future.

    They will also be hisrades, working together to tackle various dangerous tasks.

    ¡®In the worst-case scenario, we might even have to confront the demon-worshipping followers of the ck Finger.¡¯

    In short, he had to prioritize skill when selecting members.

    It would be even better if they were people he trusted and knew well.

    ¡®If I think about those who meet that criteria right now¡­¡¯

    Three people immediately came to mind.

    Oscar called them all in.

    Knock, knock.

    The first person to arrive was recognizable just by the sound of their knock.

    ¡°Happy New Year!¡±

    Fran cheerfully greeted him as he entered the office on the 14th floor for the first time this year.

    ¡°Yeah, happy New Year.¡±

    ¡°¡®Happy New Year¡¯? What¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°It basically means I¡¯m wishing you a prosperous new year.¡±

    ¡°Where do you keep picking up such old-fashioned phrases?¡±

    ¡°¡­.¡±

    Do kids these days not use such phrases?

    Fran, who was busy looking around the office with curiosity, asked,

    ¡°So, what¡¯s this ce? You called me all of a sudden, so I came, but what do you do here?¡±

    ¡°This is the Special Operations Division. In short, the Special Ops Office.¡±

    ¡°Special Ops? I didn¡¯t know our tower had such a division.¡±

    ¡°It was just established.¡±

    After briefly exining the background, Fran turned around with a surprised expression.

    ¡°What? The ck Finger? You¡¯ve tangled with those demon-worshippers before?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know it at the time, but apparently, yes.¡±

    The Cadena Flu, the Heavenlt Silkworm at the Magic Power nt¡ª

    He hadn¡¯t realized back then that those were their doing.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

    ¡°They said I have an unusually high rate of contact with those guys. That¡¯s why the Royal Family stuck me in this position.¡±

    ¡°...Wouldn¡¯t they normally try to protect you more in that case?¡±

    ¡°Well, the Royal Family isn¡¯t exactly known for their generosity.¡±

    Efficiency was the Royal Family¡¯s forte, after all.

    ¡°You say that as if you know them well. Oh? What¡¯s this?¡±

    Fran spotted arge box on the table and expressed curiosity.

    ¡°They say it¡¯s support supplies from the Royal Family.¡±

    ¡°Can I see what¡¯s inside?¡±

    ¡°Knock yourself out.¡±

    Oscar responded indifferently.

    People often overestimated Royal Family support, but it was usually underwhelming¡ª

    Just equipment, food, and maybe a few magic scrolls.

    ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­ functional attire, travel permits, and various magic scrolls.¡±

    Just as he expected.

    Oscar, sitting in his chair, began inspecting the box¡¯s contents with him.

    ¡°Hmm. At least the attire is top-notch.¡±

    The coats had temperature-regting enchantments, while the tops, bottoms, and shoes were all reinforced for durability.

    Waterproof and fire-resistant spells were standard, minimizing operational risks.

    ¡°Really? I find it a bit disappointing. The design isn¡¯t much different from the White Tower robes.¡±

    ¡°Are you nning to go around bragging about being on a grand mission? Focus on functionality.¡±

    There were 15 sets of the attire in total, likely ounting for potential recements.

    ¡°The travel permits only bear the Royal Seal, nothing else?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good enough. Showing that will grant you ess to most ces.¡±

    It was clear the Royal Family intended to empower the Special Ops Division.

    Considering the division¡¯s tangential ties to demon-rted affairs, that was only natural.

    Besides, this was about utilizing Tower personnel at the Royal Family¡¯s request.

    ¡°Hm. I doubt you called me here just to show off your office¡­¡±

    Fran squinted suspiciously and made an immediate deration.

    ¡°Nope. I¡¯m not doing it.¡±

    ¡°¡­I haven¡¯t even said anything yet.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re going to assign me to some special mission or whatever.¡±

    Since when was he this perceptive?

    Or had he always been this sharp?

    Oscar nodded confidently.

    ¡°Correct. But this is actually for your benefit. It¡¯s a great opportunity.¡±

    ¡°¡­A great opportunity?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re Level 4 now, so it¡¯s time for you to choose a career path.¡±

    Mages in the Tower typically decided their career paths at Level 4.

    Most chose magical research, while a few joined departments like potion manufacturing or artifact crafting formercial work.

    Those who didn¡¯t fit anywhere were automatically assigned to the task-solving department.

    On asion, particrly talented mages were scouted for the guards, but Fran likely wouldn¡¯t fall into that category.

    ¡°Or are you nning to go into magical research after all?¡±

    ¡°Ahem¡­¡±

    Fran averted his gaze.

    The stereotype about magical researchers being reclusive workaholics wasn¡¯t baseless¡ªit stemmed from truth.

    ¡°You¡¯re too active to lock yourself in a room all day, and you¡¯re not exactly interested in potions or delivery services.¡±

    ¡°I could just join the task-solving department.¡±

    ¡°The Special Ops Division does the same kind of work but on a higher level. You¡¯d even get to pick and choose the missions or cases you want to handle.¡±

    Moreover, joining the task-solving department often meant enduring a rough start.

    Even Killian, now hailed as a prodigy, likely began his career chasing runaway pets.

    ¡°With Special Ops, you can skip all that grunt work and jump straight into handling high-quality cases, often on par with prestigious individual requests. Naturally, the pay and benefits are far superior.¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡±

    Fran¡¯s ears perked slightly.

    ¡°Most importantly, what was your goal again? To be the White Tower¡¯s gship mage and elevate your family¡¯s name, right? Then you absolutely need to join Special Ops. It¡¯ll be the go-to team for the White Tower¡¯s elite.¡±

    ¡°¡­The White Tower¡¯s elite?¡±

    ¡°Exactly.¡±

    With that, Oscar turned his head toward the door.

    ¡°Come in.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re like a ghost.¡±

    A deep, resonant voice apanied Killian¡¯s entrance.

    Fran¡¯s eyes widened as Oscar addressed him.

    "Killian Lockwood. The most promising mage of the White Tower right now. He¡¯ll join the Special Operations Division too."

    "¡­Is that true?"

    At Fran''s question, Killian responded as he took a seat.

    "What¡¯s the Special Operations Division?"

    "Nothing much. It¡¯s a team where you make friends and solve cases together. Now, just sign here."

    "Understood."

    Without a moment¡¯s hesitation, Killian signed the document, leaving Fran bewildered.

    "Hey, do you even know what kind of hidden uses might be in that before you just sign?"

    "Oscar is a warrior who¡¯s crossed life and death with me. A true warrior doesn¡¯t deceive others."

    "¡­Both of you are mages, though."

    Fran''s quiet muttering dissipated into the air.

    At that moment, thest person he¡¯d summoned entered the room.

    "You¡¯re here, Veronica."

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    "¡­"

    Her gaze swept across the room briefly before settling on Killian.

    She seemed to recognize him as a rival, making her more conscious of his presence.

    Killian met her gaze without flinching and put a pipe to his lips.

    "Killian."

    "Don¡¯t worry. I won¡¯t fight."

    "No, I meant stop smoking indoors."

    "¡­"

    Killian, looking sheepish, set the pipe down.

    Watching him, Veronica let out a soft sigh of exasperation.

    "So, why did you call me here?"

    "A new Special Operations Division has been established. It will handle incidents in Sirin and neighboring territories. I¡¯d like you to join."

    "What¡¯s in it for me?"

    Her voice,ced with sharpness, questioned him while her arms were crossed.

    If the answer didn¡¯t meet her expectations, there was no way she would join.

    ¡®Veronica¡¯s goal, as far as I¡¯ve observed, is¡­¡¯

    Power.

    A strength so overwhelming that no one could disregard her.

    And, naturally, it included a significant need for recognition.

    "You¡¯ll grow stronger faster than in any other department of the White Tower."

    "¡­"

    Veronica seemed to mull over the offer, likely considering its feasibility.

    "What does ¡®faster¡¯ mean, exactly?"

    "Hmm."

    As he pondered her question, Oscar¡¯s gazended on Fran.

    "Ah, there¡¯s a good example right here."

    With a faint smile, Oscar gestured toward Fran.

    "I can guarantee you¡¯ll reach at least the level of this guy."

    "Fran Sirius? But this guy¡­"

    A deep distrust gleamed in her eyes.

    ¡®I used to see two mages in the White Tower as my greatest rivals.¡¯

    They were Killian Lockwood and Fran Sirius.

    While Oscar Crucian was overwhelmingly more famous, he had been diagnosed with mana depletion syndrome, so she didn¡¯t consider him apetitor.

    ¡®But this guy¡­¡¯

    After rumors spread that Fran couldn¡¯t use unique magic due to trauma, she¡¯d stopped paying attention to him.

    She couldn¡¯t afford to waste time looking back when she had to keep moving forward.

    "What? Do you think Fran is weaker than you?"

    "He only reached the 4th level recently."

    "Magic is unfair. Someone can spend years achieving something, only for a talented individual to catch up in a single moment of insight."

    Oscar smiled meaningfully at Killian and Veronica.

    "From what I see, Fran is currently the strongest among you three."

    "¡­"

    "¡­"

    In the ensuing silence, Fran fidgeted nervously.

    "Hey, hey! What¡¯s that supposed to mean? Are you subtly mocking me? You¡¯re just putting me in an awkward position!"

    "What¡¯s awkward about it? It¡¯s the truth."

    Wind and steel¡¯s breath,bined with the whip.

    This was a magicalbination perfected by the great Seventh Tower Master, a continental-level powerhouse.

    ¡®Of course, those two are exceptionally talented for their age, but¡­¡¯

    Even so, it would be nearly impossible for them to endure Fran¡¯s devastating firepower with that perfectbination.

    That¡¯s why Oscar provoked them.

    "Can you back that up?"

    "Of course."

    Hooked.

    Oscar responded with a faint smile.

    "We¡¯re all busy people. No need for long discussions¡ªjust settle it with a match."

    * * *

    The White Tower¡¯s outdoor training ground.

    It was the same ce where Fran had once faced off against Lazli, the bodyguard his older brother brought.

    And today, he¡¯d be facing Veronica Fricks.

    "Hey, Oscar¡­ is this really necessary?"

    Fran¡¯s brows furrowed deeply as he reluctantly walked forward.

    "You know it better than anyone. I can only swing that move three times."

    "Of course I know. I¡¯m the one who taught you, after all."

    But Fran still didn¡¯t fully understand.

    "Today, you won¡¯t even need to swing it three times."

    Oscar nced at Veronica and then briefly at Killian.

    "Well, maybe twice if that guy gets curious and intervenes."

    "¡­What the hell are you talking about?"

    "You don¡¯t need to know. You¡¯ll find out soon enough."

    Fran still didn¡¯t realize just how incredible the weapon in his hands truly was.

    If he did, he wouldn¡¯t have dared to make those audacious remarks about not joining the Special Operations Division.

    "Step up."

    Veronica was already on the training ground, exuding sharp, intimidating energy.

    "Here goes¡­"

    With a face full of reluctance, Fran shuffled onto the training ground.

    Watching him, Killian approached Oscar and asked.

    "Oscar. Do you really think Fran Sirius can win?"

    "Yeah."

    "¡­What did you teach him to make you so confident?"

    At Killian¡¯s genuine curiosity, Oscar smirked faintly.

    "Something you can¡¯t stop even if you know it¡¯sing."

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 Chapter 79

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    Chapter 79: The Special Operations Division (4)

    Veronica Fricks took a small, deep breath.

    ¡®That guy stronger than me? Ridiculous.¡¯

    She scoffed at the idea.

    It had been two years since she reached Level 4.

    Back in her academy days, supported by the White Tower, she had already been an intermediate mage in her final year.

    ¡®I hate to say this myself, but I have talent.¡¯

    And she wasn¡¯t somezy, overindulgent fool basking in that talent.

    She was confident, proud, and absolutely sure: no mage had worked harder than her in the past two years.

    ¡®I¡¯ve never skipped my morning training, not even once.¡¯

    She avoided outings, knowing even a cold might disrupt her training.

    She rigorously managed herself, pushing her body to the brink of overwork.

    ¡®I may not have reached Level 5 yet, nor can I im to surpass Killian, but¡­¡¯

    At the very least, she prided herself on being one of the top two Level 4 mages of the White Tower.

    That pride was her fortress, built through endless effort, and the driving force to keep going tomorrow.

    ¡®Watch closely.¡¯

    A mage who had only just reached Level 4 three months ago?

    Even with talent, there was no way to ovee two years of effort infused with blood, sweat, and tears.

    Narrowing her sharp eyes, she opened her mouth.

    ¡°Bring it on.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    At her words, Fran nced back at Oscar.

    ¡°Why are you looking at me? Look at Veronica.¡±

    ¡°Uh, are you sure it¡¯s okay to use that?¡±

    ¡°What are you suddenly talking about now? When you fought me, you sted away like you wanted me dead.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ that¡¯s because I was sure you wouldn¡¯t die no matter what.¡±

    ¡°Same with Veronica. She might get hurt, sure, but she definitely won¡¯t die.¡±

    Oscar warned him with a stern expression.

    ¡°Attack her at full power. If you hold back, you might be the one who ends up hurt.¡±

    ¡°¡­Sorry, I think I got ahead of myself.¡±

    That single statement snapped Fran back to his senses.

    Turning to face forward again, he readied himself.

    Although she was prepared to cast magic at any moment with her quick-cast ability, Veronica didn¡¯t attack first.

    Her posture conveyed one thing.

    ¡®She¡¯s telling me to reveal my cards first.¡¯

    Whatever it was, she was ready to crush it head-on.

    It was understandable.

    After all, hearing someone weaker im they were stronger would surely get under anyone¡¯s skin.

    ¡°Alright¡­ Here Ie.¡±

    With that, Fran untied the cord around his waist.

    ¡®A whip?¡¯

    Veronica¡¯s eyebrows twitched at the unexpected weapon.

    Mages from the White Tower typically didn¡¯t use such tools.

    ¡®If I recall, whip users are mostly from the speed-focused factions of the Yellow Tower.¡¯

    One thing was clear: a whip didn¡¯t seem toplement the White Tower¡¯s wind magic.

    ¡®A whip relies on speed-based attacks.¡¯

    If she could block just the first strike, she could unleash a barrage of spells before he could recover the whip.

    ¡®I just need to block it once.¡¯

    She heightened her concentration, tracking Fran¡¯s movements down to the subtlest details:

    the positioning of his feet, the rise and fall of his chest with each breath, every little clue.

    Finally, his body moved.

    ¡®The ankle.¡¯

    The first motion wasn¡¯t his arm but his ankle.

    It twisted, followed by his calf, thigh, pelvis, and waist in smooth session.

    The force traveled through his body, culminating in his shoulder turning as he struck.

    ¡°Dance of Steel.¡±

    Crack!

    The sound wasn¡¯t something a simple whip could produce.

    It echoed like the sky splitting apart, ringing in her ears like a song of doom.

    ¡°...!¡±

    Instinctively, Veronica deployed a Wind Shield.

    ¡®No, that¡¯s not enough.¡¯

    She quicklyyered two ¡ºAir Cushions¡» between them, used ¡ºWind Shield¡» to slow the whip¡¯s approach,

    and finally, formed threeyers of ¡ºWind Shields¡» for an imprable defense.

    A master of quick-cast magic, she conjured six spells in an instant.

    Feeling a moment of relief, she froze.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

    ¡®What...?¡¯

    She saw it.

    The slowed whip effortlessly tearing through her three Wind Shields as if they were paper.

    ¡°Ugh!¡±

    A burning pain red along her side as her body was lifted off the ground.

    Boom!

    She crashed and rolled several times across the training field,nding outside its bounds.

    ¡°...!¡±

    Watching the exchange, Killian unfolded his crossed arms in shock.

    ¡®That attack just now¡­"

    Would he have been able to block it?

    The answer was obvious without much thought.

    ¡®Impossible.¡¯

    Blocking that brute-force attack head-on was nothing short of suicide.

    If he ever faced it, evasion would be his only choice.

    ¡°D-damn it.¡±

    Dusting herself off, Veronica stood back up.

    If she hadn¡¯t dissipated the final impact, she would¡¯ve been carried off on a stretcher.

    ¡°Veronica, are you alr¡ª¡±

    Fran started, but abruptly mped his mouth shut.

    The expression on her face wasn¡¯t one of pain but seething frustration.

    Any concern or sympathy would only fan the mes of her indignation.

    ¡°The match is settled.¡±

    Oscar spoke with a bright smile.

    Watching him, Fran gave him a sharp look.

    "Hey! How can youugh in a situation like this...?"

    "Why? Am I not allowed tough? Should I instead hang my head and apologize, saying, ¡®I didn¡¯t mean for it to happen, I¡¯m sorry¡¯?"

    Tilting his head to the side, he nced at Veronica.

    "If that makes you feel better, I can do that. What do you say?"

    "¡­Get lost."

    "See? This way works better."

    Approaching her, Oscar spoke again.

    "This is the kind of standard you were curious about when you asked how to get stronger quickly. Does this answer your question?"

    "You... just wait."

    Veronica wasn¡¯t responding to Oscar but was ring at Fran, who stood on the training ground behind him.

    "You, once I learn properly from this guy, let¡¯s face off again."

    Her fiery determination was almost palpable, a perfect moment for ambition.

    Oscar, watching her, smiled warmly.

    ¡®Right now, she¡¯ll be able to handle even intense training.¡¯

    With her prideful andpetitive nature, there was no doubt in his mind.

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    * * *

    "Mam, your room fee is overdue..."

    "I¡¯ll pay it all at once when I leave, so buzz off."

    In the dim, damp corner room of a dingy inn, a woman, irritated by the musty smell unique to such ces, mmed the door shut and cursed.

    "Goddamn it."

    She scowled at the stack of job requests piled on the desk.

    ¡®How did my life end up like this?¡¯

    It was all because of the White Tower.

    No, to be precise, it was all because of a brat from that godforsaken ce.

    ¡®Oscar Crucian¡­¡¯

    The woman was Moira Maine, a Level 5 mage who had once been a rising star in the potion department of the Blue Tower.

    If her coboration with NewTech had gone as nned, securing an exclusive deal with the archbishop, she could¡¯ve been on a clear path to bing the department head.

    ¡®If only things had gone that way, no one would¡¯ve dared look down on me.¡¯

    But now, even the innkeeper of this cheap lodging dared to look her in the eye and demand money.

    Someone who, in the past, wouldn¡¯t have even met her gaze.

    "Ugh."

    But what choice did she have?

    Abandoned by the Blue Tower, she was now relegated to dangerous, life-threatening assignments.

    Of course, refusing their orders and running away wasn¡¯t even an option.

    She knew better than anyone that you couldn¡¯t live freely on this continent after turning the Four Great Magic Towers against you.

    "Damn it..."

    Living as a mercenary, or something even less dignified, for the rest of her life was uneptable.

    Yet she had no brilliant n to escape this situation either.

    All she could do now was sit in his dingy room, spewing curses and drinking heavily.

    Knock, knock, knock.

    The sudden knocking at the door made her snap her head around.

    "You bastard! I told you, I¡¯ll pay it all when I leave¡ª!"

    But as she yanked the door open, she trailed off mid-sentence.

    The person standing in the hallway wasn¡¯t the innkeeper.

    It was a man in a suit, hands sped behind his back, smiling.

    Aplete stranger.

    "¡­Get lost. You must have the wrong room."

    Just as she was about to shut the door, a polite voice slipped through the crack.

    "Ms. Maine. Don¡¯t you want revenge?"

    Pause.

    He knew her name.

    And from the mention of revenge, this man clearly knew her circumstances.

    Snapping herself out of her drunken haze with a flicker of magic, Moira reopened the door, growling.

    "Who the hell are you?"

    "How much longer will you rot in this stinking room? You¡¯re not someone who belongs in a ce like this."

    "I said, who the hell are you?"

    "I¡¯m someone here to help you."

    "¡­"

    Moira stared at the man with his amiable smile and asked,

    "Help me? Why?"

    "To be honest, because we have amon enemy."

    "Hah. And how would you know who I hate?"

    "Oscar Crucian. Isn¡¯t that right?"

    The man whispered, his voice as sweet as honey.

    "I know how you can take revenge on him and regain the trust of the Blue Tower Master."

    "¡­Go on."

    Though she remained cautious, Moira asked further.

    "Recently, in the region near Sirin, White Tower potions are selling better than those of the Blue Tower."

    "Because delivery is faster due to the proximity, I¡¯d assume."

    "Exactly. The problem is, the Blue Tower is on the verge of losing the entire northern market."

    At that, Moira scoffed.

    "So what? You want me to go to Sirin and sabotage their potion department?"

    "Of course not. There¡¯s no need to storm into enemy territory recklessly. The White Tower uses the Sirius Merchant Guild¡¯swork for their potion distribution."

    "¡­Safe, then."

    "Yes, with the Sirius Guild¡¯s banner, no bandit would dare touch them."

    The man continued,

    "We¡¯ll switch their potions with poisoned ones during distribution."

    "Switch them out?"

    "Yes. Once people start dying from the potions they purchased, rumors about the White Tower¡¯s potion quality will naturally spread."

    Hearing the n, Moira chuckled.

    "The White Tower or merchants aren¡¯t fools. They¡¯ll investigate right away."

    "And who do you think the White Tower would send to investigate?"

    Realizing what the man was implying, Moira¡¯s eyes gleamed.

    "Oscar Crucian."

    "Exactly. The very person who created all those potions will personallye to find the issue."

    "Then we kill him?"

    "We¡¯ll handle the cleanup. All we need is a skilled individual to get the job done."

    Someone capable of definitively killing Oscar Crucian.

    Moira, tempted by the proposal, asked one more thing.

    "Sounds enticing enough, but I can¡¯t team up with someone whose affiliations are unclear."

    "¡­Hmm, if that¡¯s your concern."

    After a brief pause, the man retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it over.

    As Moira instinctively took it, she froze, recognizing the strong scent of the perfume it carried.

    "NewTech?"

    "The vice president values you as an excellent colleague and wishes for your reinstatement."

    Everything clicked for Moira.

    Since her dismissal, rtions between NewTech and the Blue Tower had soured.

    ¡®They want me back to restore their partnership with the Blue Tower?¡¯

    A mutually beneficial arrangement.

    As that thought crossed her mind, a sinister smile spread across Moira¡¯s face.

    "Come back when you have the exact time and location."

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 Chapter 80

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    Chapter 80: Poxxon (1)

    A sewer filled with a stench that makes you want to block your nose.

    Several shlight beams swayed back and forth, sporadically illuminating a massive new figure.

    "Jan! It''s escaping! It''s heading your way!"

    "Don''t worry! I''ll stop it!"

    A man replied confidently as he set up his shield and lowered his body, ready to face the charging giant mutant rat.

    At the moment he braced himself for the impact¡ª

    Boom!

    "Urgh!"

    An overwhelming pain, as if all his bones were shattering, twisted his face.

    But ultimately, he withstood the rat''s charge.

    "I-I¡¯ve caught... it."

    "Great job, Jan! Everyone, attack!"

    With the mercenary leader''smand, the monster copsed lifeless onto the filthy sewer floor.

    "Hah, hah... Is this another requestpleted?"

    "This one was quite tough."

    Breathing heavily, they managed to string words together.

    The sewer''s stench was awful, but worse was the water rising up to their calves, making even running a severe drain on their stamina.

    After confirming the giant rat''s death, the mercenary leader gave an order.

    "Take a break, everyone. Drink potions and regroup. You''ll need the strength to haul this heavy thing to the surface."

    "Phew... Roger that."

    Jan was the first to uncork a potion bottle.

    As he gulped it down, a fellow mercenary chuckled.

    "Look at you! Still drinking those Blue Tower potions. These days, White Tower potions are the rage."

    "Hah, there must be a reason why the cheap ones are so cheap."

    "Didn¡¯t you see all theparison tests? The White Tower potions are proven to be even more effective."

    "If that''s true, why are they so cheap?"n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

    "Because the Blue Tower has monopolized the market. If neers want to break in, they have to take some losses."

    "Hah!"

    A man downed a low-tier White Tower potion in one go and shrugged.

    "Plus, this one tastes way better. Once they gain more market share, they¡¯ll hike the price, so drink up while you can."

    "Hmm..."

    Indeed, White Tower potions were causing a sensation among mercenaries recently.

    The buzz was that anyone not drinking them was a fool.

    Should he consider switching suppliers?

    The shop he frequented for years was run by a rtive of a Blue Tower mage.

    Naturally, they only stocked Blue Tower potions.

    But after this mission, he nned to explore other shops.

    "So, got any rmendations among the White Tower potions?"

    "Of course. The potions are great, but the supplements¡ªugh!"

    Suddenly, the excitedly chattering mercenary coughed up blood.

    Startled, Jan rushed to support him.

    "Hey! What¡¯s going on? Were you injured badly during the fight?"

    "N-no, I wasn¡¯t... cough!"

    "Damn it, Jan! Get him to the surface right now!"

    Following the leader''s urgentmand, Jan carried him up to the surface, but his condition was already critical.

    "Hey! Dawson! Breathe! Open your eyes!"

    "Urgh... gurgle..."

    Foaming at the mouth and rolling back his eyes, the mercenary died suddenly, beyond anyone''s help.

    And simr incidents began to ur across the city of Mosque simultaneously.

    * * *

    "¡­What did you say?"

    Oscar stared in disbelief at Lena White, the woman who had burst into the special operations office.

    She repeated her statement, confirming what he had just heard.

    "Mercenaries have died after consuming our potions. Articles are flooding in, and mercenaries and their families are threateningwsuits."

    Sweat beaded on her forehead.

    It seemed she had dashed up the stairs, too impatient to wait for the elevator.

    "Please, take a seat. Fran, could you bring some tea?"

    "On it."

    Lena, still catching her breath, began speaking urgently.

    "Oscar, something about this feels off."

    "What do you mean?"

    "I don¡¯t think our potion manufacturing department produced defective products."

    "Why do you think that?"

    "There are too many strange things. For starters, you know as well as I do that our potion production process is wless."

    Oscar nodded.

    It was true.

    Their production system was so thorough that defects were virtually impossible.

    Stability checks were conducted three times before a potion was finalized.

    Even if something defective were made, it would have been caught during these inspections.

    "And here¡¯s the kicker: these incidents are only happening in Mosque. Across the entire continent, only Mosque has reported six cases so far."

    "¡­That¡¯s certainly suspicious."

    "One more thing. The media seems to have been waiting for this¡ªthey¡¯re churning out aggressive headlines like clockwork."

    Lena handed him a freshly printed newspaper.

    [The Potion of Death! White Tower potions linked to mercenary deaths.]

    [Killer Potion: Deadly toxin found in White Tower products.]

    [Trust Shattered! Potions meant to save lives bring death instead. A deep dive into the Mosque tragedy.]

    "¡­"

    Every headline was sensational and hostile.

    If, as Lena suggested, the media had been waiting for this moment, it hinted at possible maniption.

    "Let¡¯s start by having these articles taken down."

    "Impossible. We already tried."

    "¡­The press refused a request from the Tower?"

    Magic Towers wielded significant influence, recognized by the empire as official military entities.

    For them to ignore such a request¡­

    It could only mean the opposing force was equally influential or the media had been heavily incentivized.

    Lena cautiously spoke again.

    "Could the Blue Tower be behind this?"

    "¡­"

    Oscar pondered for a moment before shaking his head.

    "I don¡¯t think so."

    "Why not? The Blue Tower clearly stands to gain the most from this."

    "This move is too sloppy."

    If the Blue Tower Master had truly intended to bury the White Tower, they would have done so much more thoroughly.

    The scheme would have unfolded so naturally that even those on the receiving end wouldn¡¯t suspect external maniption.

    ¡®If it¡¯s the Blue Tower Master I know, that¡¯s exactly what they would¡¯ve done.¡¯

    Yet this incident was clumsy, sloppy.

    It reeked of an amateur¡¯s handiwork.

    ¡®They may have a bit of size, but they¡¯re not experienced in this sort of thing.¡¯

    This suggested that the perpetrators were likely a new noble faction or a fledgling business.

    But why would such entities bother to tarnish the White Tower¡¯s reputation?

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    Furrowing his brows, Oscar asked,

    ¡°Has our side officially released a statement about this?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve prepared a rebuttal article, but we thought it best for you to make the final call.¡±

    ¡°You did well. For now, stay silent. The White Tower won¡¯t release an official position.¡±

    ¡°What? Are you serious? Don¡¯t we need to clear up the misunderstanding as quickly as possible?¡±

    ¡°Even if we release a rebuttal or an official statement, it won¡¯t clear up the misunderstanding.¡±

    Rushing into a clumsy and premature response would only add fuel to the fire.

    Rising from his seat, Oscar spoke firmly.

    ¡°I¡¯ll go to Mosque myself to find clues.¡±

    He turned to Fran.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

    ¡°Huh? Me too?¡±

    Fran, who had been hiding in the corner after serving tea, widened his eyes.

    ¡°Of course, you¡¯reing. You¡¯re involved, after all.¡±

    ¡°...How am I involved? Just because we once made a potion together?¡±

    ¡°No. Your family¡¯s Sirius Trading Company distributes our potions across the continent.¡±

    Of course, the Sirius Trading Company had no reason to stab the White Tower in the back.

    However, if someone wanted to sabotage the White Tower, leveraging Sirius Trading¡¯s distributionwork would be the most effective way.

    ¡°It¡¯ll be easier to get cooperation from the Sirius Trading¡¯s Mosque branch if you¡¯re with me.¡±

    ¡°Well, if it¡¯s for that¡­ fine.¡±

    Oscar turned to Lena.

    ¡°What¡¯s the status of the potions distributed in Mosque?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve recalled them all and stored them in the Sirius Trading¡¯s warehouse.¡±

    ¡°Good work. Until we arrive, make sure no one touches them.¡±

    * * *

    Mosque was a neighboring territory to Sirin, just a five-hour drive away.

    Naturally, Oscar and Fran hailed a taxi.

    Their previous driver had taken them as far as Sirin, then returned to Vince, rendering the luxury vehicle a beautiful but useless toy until they found a new driver.

    ¡°...So this is Mosque. It¡¯s my first time here.¡±

    Fran muttered in awe as he stepped out of the car.

    Though the cities weren¡¯t far apart, Mosque¡¯s atmosphere was noticeably different.

    Unlike Sirin¡¯s pristine white aesthetic, Mosque had an abundance of drab gray skyscrapers.

    ¡°It¡¯s apletely different vibe from Baran, where everything is shy buildings and neon lights.¡±

    Oscar, observing the gray forest of buildings, remarked,

    ¡°I hear this city has a lot of emerging businesses. That also means there¡¯s plenty of friction. It¡¯s even home base to mercenaries because of that.¡±

    Wherever there¡¯s profit, there¡¯s conflict¡ªand mercenaries thrive in such environments.

    ¡°On top of that, the surrounding forests and rivers bring in monsters, so there¡¯s no shortage of work for them.¡±

    If he weren¡¯t a mage, Oscar thought, he might have chosen this city as a base until he grew stronger.

    ¡°So, where are we headed now?¡±

    ¡°Sirius Trading Company. We need to examine the potions in question first.¡±

    They headed straight to the Mosque branch of the Sirius Trading Company.

    As they entered, staff who had been waiting for their arrival approached.

    ¡°Are you the representatives from the White Tower?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I¡¯m Oscar Crucian, head of the White Tower¡¯s Potion Division.¡±

    The sheer presence of such a high-profile figure left the staff stiff with tension.

    Fran stepped in to ease the atmosphere.

    ¡°Rx, everyone. We¡¯re not here to eat you.¡±

    ¡°T-Thank you, young master.¡±

    A middle-aged man swallowed nervously before introducing himself.

    ¡°I¡¯m Paul Wagner, head of Sirius Trading¡¯s Mosque branch.¡±

    ¡°Pleased to meet you, Paul. May we examine the recalled White Tower potions?¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡±

    Recognizing the gravity of the situation, Paul quickly led them to the storage area.

    ¡°Wow¡­ Are all these potions only sold in Mosque?¡±

    Fran gawked at a storage room packed to the brim with potions.

    The towering stacks nearly reached the ceiling, numbering tens of thousands.

    ¡°Yes, about 70,000 units. Recently, some of the White Tower¡¯s potions have even surpassed the Blue Tower¡¯s in sales volume.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d heard the Potion Division was profitable, but seeing it with my own eyes is something else.¡±

    Still overwhelmed by the sight, Fran rolled up his sleeves and turned to Oscar.

    ¡°Whew, looks like this will take more than a day or two to sort through. Let¡¯s get started.¡±

    ¡°Start what?¡±

    ¡°Checking the potions for poison with scanning magic, of course. We¡¯ll have to go through them one by one from the top.¡±

    Oscar let out a dryugh.

    ¡°When are you nning to finish at that pace?¡±

    He prepared arge-scale scan spell.

    Fran, startled, stopped him.

    ¡°Are you insane?! Scanning this many potions at once could overload your brain!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. I¡¯ve scannedrger quantities before.¡±

    As Fran muttered ¡°...Monster,¡± under his breath, Oscar cast his spell.

    ¡°Scan.¡±

    A wave of magic swept through the storage room like aser.

    Oscar¡¯s gaze turned cold.

    ¡°Interesting.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s interesting? Did you find poisoned potions?¡±

    Fran, impatient, asked eagerly, but Oscar slowly shook his head.

    Among the nearly 70,000 potions, not a single one contained any trace of poison.

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 Chapter 81

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    Chapter 81: Poxxon (2)

    It would have been a relief if poison had been detected in the potion.

    At least then they could begin tracking it backward.

    ¡®But the problem is that nothing came up.¡¯

    That meant the culprit behind this incident was far more meticulous than anticipated.

    At the very least, they hadn¡¯t left behind any clues that could expose them.

    Unlike what they initially thought, perhaps these were seasoned individuals with experience in this kind of work.

    ¡°Not finding poison¡­ isn¡¯t exactly good news.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. It means we can¡¯t even say we¡¯re innocent.¡±

    If they simply imed, ¡°We found no poison in our potions after conducting tests,¡±

    who would believe them?

    People had already died.

    Even if they released the ingredient reports to the media, people would think it was just for show.

    ¡°So what do we do now?¡±

    ¡°What else? We¡¯ll have to hit the streets.¡±

    Oscar turned to look at Paul Wagner and asked,

    ¡°Is there any way to know the location of the mercenaries who drank the potion and died? Or the tasks they were on?¡±

    ¡°We tried to investigate that part as well¡­ but we were refused. Everyone¡¯s far too sensitive right now.¡±

    It was understandable.

    Who wouldn¡¯t be angry when arade had died?

    ¡°Then we¡¯ll have to visit them ourselves.¡±

    ¡°T-That¡¯s far too dangerous!¡±

    Paul Wagner, startled, tried to stop him.

    Meeting mercenaries furious over theirrades¡¯ deaths was like walking straight into a lion¡¯s den.

    ¡°It¡¯ll be fine. For now, we¡¯re just going to talk.¡±

    Oscar patted Fran, who was standing beside him with a sour expression, on the shoulder.

    ¡°Whatever happens, we¡¯ve got him here.¡±

    * * *

    ¡°¡­And who did you say you were?¡±

    The veins on Jan¡¯s face bulged as he red at them from the sofa in the mercenary office.

    Fran swallowed nervously before replying.

    ¡°H-Hello. I¡¯m Fran Sirius, a Level 4 mage of the White Tower¡ª¡±

    ¡°Get the hell out!¡±

    Boom!

    Jan mmed his massive shield into the floor.

    It shook the entire office as if an earthquake had hit.

    ¡°Before I lose my temper and my fist flies.¡±

    The leader of the mercenaries, who had been silently listening, spoke coldly.

    ¡°He might have said it a bit harshly, but we agree with him.¡±

    Five mercenaries were sitting or standing in various spots around the small office.

    At first nce, they seemed casually scattered, but Oscar could tell.

    These men had worked together for years.

    ¡®If that weren¡¯t the case, they couldn¡¯t have naturally positioned themselves in ways that made it easy to cover one another.¡¯

    Oscar moved slightly, stepping into the only weak point he could sense in their formation.

    ¡°This must be the seat of Dawson, the man who passed away.¡±

    The moment he spoke, the mercenaries drew their weapons and pointed them at him.

    The air tightened, suffocatingly tense.

    But Oscar spoke calmly.

    ¡°We need your help.¡±

    ¡°¡­Help?¡±

    The mercenary leader smirked, his killing intent pressing down on Oscar.

    ¡°Are you asking us to lie for you because your business might suffer?¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Oscar could feel it.

    If his next words were even slightly off, the response would not be verbal¡ªit would be steel.

    ¡°Someone¡¯s been ying games. As you said, they¡¯re trying to cause trouble for our business.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Neither words nor swords flew.

    Taking that as a sign to continue, Oscar pressed on.

    ¡°In the process, six innocent victims were caught up. To be honest, our goal is to prove that there¡¯s nothing wrong with the White Tower¡¯s potions. At the same time, those who died unjustly can rest in peace.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    The mercenary leader stared coldly at Oscar for a long moment.

    ¡°Can you take responsibility for those words?¡±

    ¡°I swear it.¡±

    After staring at Oscar¡¯s firm expression, the leader clicked his tongue lightly.

    ¡°¡­Put your weapons away.¡±

    ¡°Damn it!¡±

    Bang!

    Jan punched the wall in frustration.

    ¡°Damn it! So Dawson just died for nothing, huh?¡±

    A single individual dying in a power struggle was, unfortunately, all toomon.

    But it didn¡¯t make the emotions of those left behind any less real.

    Oscar clenched his fists tightly.

    ¡®People who treat lives like they¡¯re worthless for their own ends¡­¡¯

    If they¡¯d managed to stay out of his sight, that was one thing.

    But now that they¡¯d caught his attention, he had no intention of letting them be.

    Root to branch, he¡¯d wipe them outpletely¡ªfor the sake of a healthier society.

    ¡°So, why did youe to us?¡±

    ¡°After retrieving all the potions the White Tower had been selling in the mosque, we tested them. No poison was detected.¡±

    ¡°¡­What?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s absurd! Are you saying Dawson and the others died after drinking the potions just by some cruel coincidence?¡±

    Jan shouted, but Oscar shook his head.

    ¡°No. There¡¯s amon link. They all drank our potions before they died. But since no poison was detected, we need to learn more about the circumstances at the time.¡±

    ¡°The circumstances¡­ We were handling a giant rat extermination mission.¡±

    ¡°The location?¡±

    ¡°The sewers. The stench there was unbearable.¡±

    Stench.

    The word sparked something in Oscar¡¯s mind.

    He asked a few more questions and then stood up.

    ¡°We will capture the culprits. I promise.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    The leader nodded silently, while the others, including Jan, said nothing.

    Even if the culprit was caught now, their fallenrades would never return.

    * * *

    ¡°Phew, this is just draining.¡±

    Oscar and Fran visited five more mercenary offices after that.

    Every single time, a fight almost broke out, so it was no wonder they both felt utterly exhausted.

    ¡°Well, at least we managed to resolve things with words.¡±

    ¡°You''re surprisingly good at talking. If it were me, I¡¯d have gotten punched a couple of times and kicked out.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡­¡±

    Oscar couldn¡¯t fully appreciate thepliment, a faint, bitter smile tugging at his lips.

    He was too familiar with dealing with the families of the fallen.

    ¡°Still, we did learn something today.¡±

    ¡°Ah, I think I know what it is.¡±

    Fran, who had been with him all day, chimed in.

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    ¡°The loss of smell. Right?¡±

    ¡°Exactly.¡±

    The six mercenary offices they visited were all handling different requests, but two things were consistent:

    Those ces all reeked with a terrible stench, and they were dark.

    ¡®Sewers, garbage disposal sites, food waste areas, forests contaminated with mutated monsters¡­¡¯

    Just getting close to those ces made their faces scrunch up, and not long after, their sense of smell was dulledpletely.

    In ces like that, poisoning someone quietly would be almost effortless.

    ¡®They might have used a powder that bes poisonous whenbined with our potions. The methods are endless.¡¯n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

    The two of them realized this and immediately asked the mercenaries they met for help.

    They needed to know if there were any other requests rted to such foul-smelling ces.

    If other mercenaries were working in simr locations, then¡­

    There could be more deaths.

    ¡°Ah, there¡¯s one. And it¡¯s another sewer.¡±

    ¡°Where is it?¡±

    ¡°¡­The western sewer. That ce is a nightmare, full of dead ends.¡±

    As long as no one had taken the request yet, they still had time.

    The moment that thought crossed Oscar''s mind, the mercenary leader frowned.

    ¡°Damn it, looks like we¡¯rete. Another mercenary office took this request an hour ago.¡±

    ¡°Take us there.¡±

    There could be no more meaningless sacrifices.

    Looking into Oscar¡¯s unwavering eyes, the mercenary leader let out a long sigh.

    ¡°Two sewer jobs in a row, huh¡­ Guys, gear up!¡±

    * * *

    ¡°This is your first time doing a request like this, right?¡±

    Squelch, squelch.

    The youngest mercenary of the Mackin Mercenary Office asked innocently as they trudged through the sewer.

    It made sense¡ªthis kind of request was rare, even in his few months as a mercenary.

    ¡°Investigating sewer ecology? Why would anyone care about this ce?¡±

    ¡°Who knows? The pay is good, so maybe some entric alchemist or mage needs it for their research.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t need to know why. We just do the job and take the money.¡±

    ¡°Honestly, I wouldn¡¯t mind more of these requests. Just walk around a bit, and you¡¯re done.¡±

    ¡°Still¡­¡±

    Squelch, squelch.

    The youngest mercenary frowned, looking at the muck rising to his thighs.

    ¡°My stomach¡¯s weak. I really don¡¯t want to do jobs like this.¡±

    ¡°Geez, kids these days. Can¡¯t do this, can¡¯t do that. What can you do, huh?¡±

    ¡°When I fought the demons back in the day, I had to survive for three days by hiding in a pile of corpses.¡±

    The mood was unusually peaceful for a mercenary job.

    It wasn¡¯t surprising¡ªaside from the asional giant sewer rat, there were no real threats here.

    ¡°Ah!¡±

    Suddenly, the youngest mercenary screamed and stumbled, sshing into the filthy water.

    The others burst outughing at his expense.

    ¡°What¡¯s the matter? Can¡¯t even walk properly?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯repletely soaked now. Don¡¯te near me until you shower.¡±

    ¡°N-No, it¡¯s not that¡­ I think something stabbed me¡­¡±

    Frowning, the youngest mercenary lifted one leg and rested it on the opposite knee.

    At that moment, the other mercenaries¡¯ faces turned pale.

    A massive spike had pierced through his boot.

    ¡°Damn it! I told you to stay focused! Move aside!¡±

    The mercenary leader waded through the water and yanked the spike out in one motion.

    ¡°Ahhh!¡±

    ¡°Stop whining. Some potion and a bandage will fix it.¡±

    The leader snorted, pulling a potion from his pocket.

    The youngest mercenary stopped him as he prepared to pour it on the wound.

    ¡°W-Wait. That¡¯s not a White Tower potion, is it?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the biggest coward I¡¯ve ever trained. They¡¯ve already recalled all of those. Don¡¯t worry.¡±

    The leader smirked and shook the potion, showing off the Blue Tower insignia on the bottle.

    Relieved, the youngest mercenary watched as the leader moved to pour the potion.

    Thwack!

    Someone suddenly grabbed the leader¡¯s wrist.

    ¡°Now¡¯s not the time to use that potion.¡±

    ¡°Who the hell are you?¡±

    ¡°When did he get here?¡±

    Startled, the mercenaries drew their weapons.

    The neer was so skilled that none of them had noticed his presence.

    He snatched the potion bottle and sshed its contents against the wall.

    Ssshhhhh!

    The wall hissed and melted as thoughva had been poured on it.

    ¡°What¡­ What is this?¡±

    ¡°The air in this sewer isced with a poisonous mist that reacts with potion ingredients. Treat him on the surface.¡±

    ¡°¡­Thanks. We almost lost him. We¡¯ll repay this favorter.¡±

    The mercenaries hoisted the youngest onto their backs and hurried toward the exit.

    Oscar, who had been standing silently, finally turned around.

    ¡®The poison miststs only three minutes.¡¯

    So how could it have been deployed at the exact moment the mercenaries used a potion?

    The answer was simple.

    ¡®Someone¡¯s been following them the entire time.¡¯

    And there was only one reason that could be possible.

    BOOM!

    Oscar deflected a sharp wave of water with the back of his hand.

    ¡°Tsk, your reflexes are better than I expected.¡±

    A magical barrier shimmered and dissolved, revealing a mage who had been tailing the mercenaries.

    It wasn¡¯t an illusion spell from the Violet Tower.

    ¡®¡­The Blue Tower.¡¯

    They had been bending light by manipting water to remain invisible.

    That¡¯s why they could only operate in dark, dirty ces.

    It was the reason mercenaries always died in those environments.

    ¡°You figured it out and tracked me down, kid.¡±

    The mage who emerged had a face Oscar vaguely remembered.

    ¡°You¡¯vee to your grave.¡±

    Moira Main, a Level 5 mage of the Blue Tower.

    Smirking darkly, she radiated a chilling, murderous aura.

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 Chapter 82

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    Chapter 82: Poxxon (3)

    Amidst the stench that stung her nose, Moira Main red at her opponent.

    "¡­Oscar Crucian, Oscar Crucian."

    The eyes of the person muttering that name held something beyond hatred.

    Resentment, contempt, and the poisonous desperation of someone who had fallen into the abyss.

    The reason she hadn¡¯t attacked right away was because of her confidence¡ª

    An overwhelming belief that she could hack her opponent into dozens of pieces if she so wished.

    "Do you know how far my life has sunk because of you?"

    "It¡¯d be a lie to say I didn¡¯t."

    Oscar replied nonchntly.

    After the Blue Tower suffered massive losses in the potion business, he¡¯d looked into this one.

    "I heard you were stripped of all your positions in the Potion Division and ended up working as a janitor in the Mage Tower."

    "¡­You know it well."

    Moira Main growled lowly.

    "I fell all the way into this sewer¡¯s filth because of you."

    "How is that my fault? You were the one who tried to screw us over and got caught. High risk, high return¡ªever heard of it?"

    "Shut up!"

    The air vibrated, and the gently flowing water stilled in an instant.

    As if the world itself had held its breath in response to her fury, the only sound left was the rhythmic dripping of water from the ceiling.

    "If it weren¡¯t for you, I wouldn¡¯t have lost the cure for the Cadena Flu, and I wouldn¡¯t have gotten dragged into that cursed price war."

    "Sure, let¡¯s go with that."

    She was the kind of person who always med others for her failures.

    There was no point in continuing this conversation¡ªnothing productive woulde of it.

    "¡­You arrogant brat. Remember that the only reason you¡¯re still breathing is my mercy."

    "Yeah, yeah."

    Her overbearing confidence was understandable.

    After all, this sewer was undeniably her domain.

    ¡®Filthy water up to my thighs.¡¯

    Disgusting, yes¡ªbut it was still water, and in this ce, the possibilities for Moira were endless.

    Here, even basic Blue Tower magic would double or triple in power.

    -Fighting a Blue Tower mage near water is suicide.

    There was a reason that phrase existed.

    Water amplified the magic of the Blue Tower to 200%, even 300% of its normal strength.

    "Let me ask you one thing. Who¡¯s behind this?"

    "You¡¯re asking something obvious. Where do you think I belong?"

    At that shameless answer, Oscar chuckled and shook his head.

    "Are you saying the Blue Tower is behind this? Don¡¯t be ridiculous. That¡¯s impossible."

    "What makes you so certain?"

    "Because this isn¡¯t the Blue Tower Master¡¯s style."

    Oscar knew the personalities of the other Tower Lords inside and out.

    Even after 20¡ªor rather, 21¡ªyears, a person¡¯s nature doesn¡¯t change easily.

    ¡®If this were the Red Tower or Yellow Tower, I¡¯d believe it.¡¯

    The Red Tower Master would use any means necessary to obtain what he wanted.

    Simrly, the Yellow Tower Master preferred handling matters quickly and efficiently.

    But for that very reason, this wasn¡¯t the Blue Tower¡¯s doing.

    ¡®The Blue Tower Master. He¡¯s someone who knows how to wait.¡¯

    He didn¡¯t care if it took five years or ten to achieve something.

    He preferred a clean resolution without noise, using only the most certain method.

    That¡¯s why people called him the ¡°Blue Gentleman.¡±

    "More importantly, if the Blue Tower were really behind this, there¡¯s no way they¡¯d use someone like you."

    Moira had fallen so low that she handled the dirtiest jobs of the Magic Tower.

    If the Tower had already deemed her unworthy, they wouldn¡¯t entrust her with something this important.

    "¡­You damned brat."n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

    Moira¡¯s eyes glinted with killing intent.

    Oscar¡¯s words were so precise they struck a nerve.

    "Let¡¯s see. If it¡¯s not the Blue Tower, but someone who hates me and would work with you¡­"

    Sure, plenty of factions disliked Oscar.

    But for Moira to work with someone, there had to be at least minimal trust.

    ¡®At the very least, they¡¯d need to have some basic level of mutual confidence.¡¯

    That was the only way someone as suspicious as Moira would have epted the offer.

    As Oscar thought further, a particr man who traveled with Moira came to mind.

    "Only Niel Brion from NewTech fits. That¡¯s right, isn¡¯t it?"

    "¡­"

    "Not answering, huh? That¡¯s not a bad choice. At least you¡¯re trying to show some loyalty."

    "Silence."

    Moira¡¯s body radiated magic, bursting forth like an uncontroble storm.

    The water in the sewer suddenly dipped, then began pooling around Moira.

    Dozens of water spheres the size of human heads swirled ominously around him.

    "Your mouth has always been your problem. It¡¯s why you¡¯re going to die in this sewer today."

    Sssshhh!

    The water spheres shot forward the moment she finished speaking.

    Some people might scoff¡ªwhat¡¯s so scary about water magic?

    Isn¡¯t it just like being hit by a waterfall?

    ¡®If that were the case, it wouldn¡¯t even be called an offensive spell.¡¯

    Blue Tower water magic,pressed with mana, could crush steel.

    Oscar once saw a high-ranking Blue Tower mage cut through diamond with high-pressure water.

    ¡®She¡¯s not at that level¡ªshe¡¯s a 5th-level mage, after all¡­¡¯

    Bu still, taking a hit from that wouldn¡¯t be pleasant.

    Bang! KABOOM!

    The water spheres collided with Oscar, erupting with a deafening roar as water spouted like an explosion.

    Moira¡¯s expression rxed slightly as she watched.

    "Hmph. A cursed mouth, but no skill to match."

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    No matter how much they hyped him up as the ¡®Young Noble,¡¯ Oscar was still just a 3rd-level mage.

    There was no way he could withstand the magic of a 5th-level intermediate mage.

    Moira slowly stepped forward and looked at the body floating in the sewer water.

    "This ce is the perfect grave for trash like you."

    She snorted and stomped on Oscar¡¯s face¡ª

    Only for the body to dissolve like smoke.

    Moira¡¯s eyes widened.

    ¡®An illusion spell?¡¯

    When?

    Wait¡ªdid that mean she¡¯d lost sight of the real one?

    ¡®Impossible. I clearly felt his residual magicing from the body¡­?¡¯

    Moira''s gaze quickly shot toward where the corpse had been.

    Water rising up to a person''s thighs.

    From a ce just deep enough for someone to hide if theyy down, a sudden burst of wind shot out.

    "Ugh!"

    Swish!

    Moira twisted her head just in time.

    A deep wound was carved across her cheek, but she was lucky¡ªthat was enough.

    Had she not reacted in time, her brain would have been pierced.

    "Ha! You dodged?"

    "You rat-like bastard!"

    The water level dropped again, and a water orb five timesrger than before surged toward him.

    Seeing this, Oscar crouched down in an instant and wrapped his body in a Wind Shield.

    Crash!

    Swept by the raging torrent, his body was carried to the opposite side of the sewer.

    "Dammit!"

    Watching him, Moira spat out a curse.

    She hadn¡¯t expected him to try escaping in such a way.

    It was no different than letting her opponent run away with her own hands.

    "You''ll never escape from this ce!"

    Swoosh!

    Moira stepped onto the water, gliding swiftly across its surface.

    But Oscar, having already widened the distance, was on his feet and sprinting toward the opposite side.

    Normally, water up to one¡¯s thighs would make running nearly impossible, but he solved this problem with wind.

    With every stride, the water around his thighs was pushed aside, offering him no resistance at all.

    ¡®The location... should be somewhere around here.¡¯

    Oscar was looking for a specific spot.

    He hadn¡¯t entered the sewer without a n.

    ¡®A mage is affected by the environment more than any other ss.¡¯

    Just as the Red Tower¡¯s magic is more lethal in a scorching desert, and the Yellow Tower¡¯s power grows stronger on rainy days, so too did the Blue Tower and the White Tower have locations that amplified their might.

    ¡®Just a little further...!¡¯

    Swish!

    Dodging the water orbs and spears flying toward his back, Oscar finally stumbled into a massive central chamber.

    ¡°Haah, haah¡­ you rat-like bastard.¡±

    Moira, who had barely caught up to him, was panting heavily from exhaustion.

    She quickly scanned her surroundings, and then a sinister smile crept across her lips.

    ¡°Hah, so this is the best you coulde up with?¡±

    The enormous chamber was the central point of the sewer, a ce where eight tunnels converged.

    Its purpose was to discharge water and waste.

    ¡°Your intention was good, but you made one mistake.¡±

    Had the water already been drained as usual, the surface would have been down to ankle level.

    But perhaps the time hadn¡¯te yet, for the water remained.

    ¡°You underestimated me. Did you think I wouldn¡¯t prepare for this? Your arrogance will be your downfall. A mage is a nner¡ªand that preparation includes choosing the battlefield.¡±

    ¡°...You¡¯re arrogant, I¡¯ll give you that. But fine, I¡¯ll admit it¡ªI didn¡¯t expect you to have tampered with this ce.¡±

    Oscar stared at the foul water pooled in the chamber, acknowledging his miscalction.

    ¡°Well, that doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯ll go down quietly.¡±

    To recover his strength, he pulled a potion from his coat.

    But Moira Main wasn¡¯t about to let him drink it.

    ¡°How foolish. Have you already forgotten?¡±

    As Oscar opened the potion bottle, she pulled a poison pouch from her cloak and scattered its contents.

    A fine powder spread into the air, forming a thick, murky cloud of poison.

    ¡°You¡¯d better not think about drinking potions in this ce.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Oscar stared at her quietly and asked,

    ¡°Do you even know what this ce is for?¡±

    ¡°Of course. It¡¯s a ce to discharge contaminated water and waste.¡±

    ¡°Right. More precisely, it¡¯s called the Purification Zone.¡±

    The ultimate destination for every path in the sewer was this chamber.

    That is, it was a ce that purified all manner of filth before expelling it outside.

    ¡°And that includes air as well.¡±

    Meaning that pollution in the air was no exception.

    ¡°...What?¡±

    As Moira furrowed her brow, not yet grasping his meaning, dozens of fans mounted on the walls and ceiling roared to life.

    Naturally, the enormous gusts of wind swept through the chamber, clearing the poison cloud entirely.

    Gulp, gulp, gulp.

    ¡°Ahh.¡±

    Oscar downed the potion in one go, wiped his mouth, and muttered,

    ¡°Now let¡¯s see whose battlefield this really is.¡±

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 Chapter 83

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    Chapter 83: Poxxon (4)

    Magic, in the end, is a study aimed merely at materializing phenomena and illusions.

    The magic of the White Tower was no different.

    If possible, controlling the wind already blowing was far more efficient than creating wind out of nothing.

    ¡°...So running around like a rat was just to summon the wind?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be so scared. I just needed a breeze since all that running got me sweaty.¡±

    The 64 fans installed in the purification zone existed solely to purify the air.

    When Moira Main spread the poisonous mist, the contamination level of the area spiked dramatically, triggering their activation.

    Whoooosh!

    The fierce wind that blew was strong enough to make clothes and hair whip wildly and create ripples in the water puddles.

    For Oscar at that moment, those fans were more reliable than dozens of mercenaries.

    ¡°Tsk!¡±

    Moira Main let out a dryugh, surprised that her actions had led to such an oue.

    However, while it may have inconvenienced her, she didn¡¯t think the situation had turned significantly against her favor.

    ¡®The power of his magic has grown stronger... but that doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯ve gotten weaker.¡¯

    This ce also contained arge amount of water.

    In other words, it was an arena where both White Tower and Blue Tower mages could fully utilize their strengths.

    ¡®If we can equally draw on the advantages of our surroundings...¡¯

    The magic of the Blue Tower was by no means inferior to that of the White Tower.

    A Level 5 mage would never lose to a Level 3 mage.

    By the simple and obvious logic of hierarchy, she wasn¡¯t at a disadvantagepared to him.

    Having made this judgment, Moira murmured softly.

    ¡°Rise.¡±

    Kwaaaaah!n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

    From the massive water puddle in the purification zone, four tentacles began to slowly rise.

    Like sprouting bean sprouts, they grew until they were as thick as an adult¡¯s torso and reached a height of 5 meters each.

    The jellyfish-like tentacles swayed gently, surrounding Oscar on all sides.

    ¡°Sea God¡¯s Whip.¡±

    This was one of the top five most destructive intermediate spells boasted by the Blue Tower.

    And Moira Main could control not one but four tentacles simultaneously.

    ¡°These tentacles can even destroy buildings. Imagine what they¡¯d do to a feeble human body.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    ¡°The answer is: it bursts. Like a water balloon hitting the ground, scattering its contents everywhere.¡±

    Listening to her detailed exnation, Oscar muttered,

    ¡°You¡¯re awfully specific. Almost like you¡¯ve seen it often.¡±

    ¡°Tch, thanks to someone, I had to y janitor for months.¡±

    Over the past few months, she¡¯d been forced to do the dirtiest tasks as the Tower¡¯s cleanup crew.

    But now, those miserable days were about to end.

    ¡°If I kill you, the White Tower¡¯s potion business won¡¯t expand any further, at least not here.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t argue with that.¡±

    ¡°So today, I¡¯ll kill you and proudly request reinstatement from the Blue Tower¡¯s master.¡±

    ¡°...How foolish.¡±

    Even if she killed him today and went to the Blue Tower master, reinstatement would never happen.

    On the contrary, they¡¯d likely clean up this incident quickly and erase her existence entirely.

    ¡®She used to be quick at reading situations, but now she¡¯s blinded by her desire for reinstatement.¡¯

    When someone loses their focus, they only see what they want to see.

    The thorny path ahead doesn¡¯t even register.

    ¡°This conversation has gone on long enough.¡±

    At her gesture, the four tentacles stretched like rubber.

    Pointing toward the ceiling, they were poised to strike Oscar at any moment.

    ¡°Die. For my better future.¡±

    Thwack!

    The moment the four tentacles fell toward his head, Oscar slowly looked up at them.

    He didn¡¯t lift a single finger.

    Instead, he simply smiled softly, like a senior amused by a junior¡¯s antics.

    ¡°Steel Whip!¡±

    Screeeech!

    The sound of steel breaking the sound barrier shredded the air.

    In a horizontal sweep, the whip¡¯s trajectory obliterated the four tentacles, which burst into droplets of water with a loud pop!

    ¡°Huff, huff. Hey, you lunatic! Why didn¡¯t you dodge that!?¡±

    Appearing from the opposite side of the purification zone, Fran gasped for breath as he shouted angrily.

    Oscar nced at him and simply shrugged.

    ¡°I knew it¡¯d turn out like this.¡±

    ¡°What if I¡¯d messed up?¡±

    ¡°Then you¡¯d just have to live with another lifelong trauma.¡±

    How could he make even a singlement so infuriating?

    Fran suppressed the urge to smack him on the head and red at Moira.

    ¡°That¡¯s the one? The one who messed with our potion business?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡±

    ¡°...Hah.¡±

    Running a hand through her hair, Moira nced between the two with an annoyed look.

    ¡°Are there any more reinforcementsing? If so, bring them out all at once.¡±

    ¡°This is it. If you try to run, mercenaries are waiting outside, but that¡¯s about it.¡±

    ¡°Good. Not that it matters, since I¡¯m not running.¡±

    The number of targets to kill had simply increased from one to two.

    Raising the four tentacles once more, Moira cast a nce at Fran.

    ¡®Time to adjust the n. I¡¯ll kill that pesky one first.¡¯

    It was humiliating to admit, but she hadn¡¯t even seen the enemy¡¯s attack earlier.

    Her magic had been destroyed before she could react, leaving her with only the sound afterward.

    ¡®But the magic was severed by a single trajectory.¡¯

    This meant her opponent¡¯s attack was something like a sword or whip.

    In that case, adjusting her countermeasures would be simple.

    ¡°Attack.¡±

    The four tentacles moved in perfect coordination, surging toward Fran.

    Each one followed a different trajectory and was timed with deliberate gaps.

    ¡°Whoa!?¡±

    As expected, Fran was visibly flustered as the attack bore down on him.

    It seemed impossible to deal with all of them at once with a single swing of the whip, as before.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got a long way to go.¡±

    Oscar murmured as he arrived beside Fran.

    ¡°Swing.¡±

    ¡°W-where? Which trajectory?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll handle that. Just swing.¡±

    It was a calm andposed voice, entirely out of ce in this dire situation.

    But that only made it more trustworthy.

    That was because it was Oscar who had said those words.

    ''If it¡¯s him, he¡¯ll find a way to keep his word, no matter what.''

    Hadn¡¯t it always been like that?

    So this time would be no different.

    In short, all he had to do now was trust Oscar¡¯s words and focus on what he himself needed to do.

    ¡°...Steel Dance.¡±

    Once again, the whip of steel howled fiercely.

    At the same time, Oscar¡¯s mana guided the trajectory of the whip naturally.

    ¡°...!¡±

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    Fran¡¯s eyes widened.

    The whip, which had shifted its course three times in midair, precisely intercepted four of the tendrils.

    ¡°How is that possible?¡±

    ¡°Swinging a whip isn¡¯t the end¡ªit''s just the beginning. Use the wind and your mana to carve a path.¡±

    If you create a path, the whip can rampage like this.

    ¡°Ugh! Water Veil!¡±

    Panicked by the destruction of all her tendrils, Moira Main hastily cast a spell.

    But the whip tore through the veil and struck her mercilessly.

    ¡°Guwaaagh!¡±

    Hit squarely, Moira Main was flung backward and crashed into the wall.

    Copsed at the bottom of the filthy sewer, she coughed up clotted blood.

    ¡®Dizzy¡­¡¯

    Her vision spun.

    Even though she had conjured the thickest Water Veil possible to reduce the speed, the destructive power was still overwhelming.

    For a brief moment, a thought crossed her mind: this ce might be her grave.

    ¡®Damn it¡­¡¯

    A 5th-level mage¡ªno, a mage of the Blue Tower¡ªlosing to someone from the White Tower?

    Unthinkable.

    It couldn¡¯t and shouldn¡¯t happen.

    With eyes gleaming with murderous intent, she reached into her robe and pulled out a small wooden box.

    Opening it revealed a single pill inside, emitting a delicate fragrance.

    ¡®Neil Brion sent this.¡¯

    It was the drug handed over by one of his subordinates who had proposed this job.

    He had instructed her to take it in case of injury during battle.

    ¡®Newtech¡¯stest creation.¡¯

    It was said to heal internal injuries and physical damage rapidly while temporarily boosting mana.

    She didn¡¯t fully believe the ims, but even if half of it was true, it would be a significant aid in this fight.

    Gulping the pill down, Moira Main slowly rose to her feet.

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    At the same time, she let out a pleased gasp.

    As the pill slid down her throat, she felt her damaged organs begin to mend.

    But that wasn¡¯t all.

    ¡®Strength is surging through me.¡¯

    Every nerve and sense sharpened to a razor¡¯s edge.

    In this state, she felt as if she could control her mana to its absolute limits.

    ¡®Water Spear.¡¯

    The moment she thought of it, the spell wasplete.

    It felt as if she had opened her eyes to a new world.

    She even had the illusion that she had ascended to a high-ranking mage mid-battle.

    ¡®What on earth has Newtech created?¡¯

    A resolve formed in her mind: once this was over, she must secure an exclusive contract with Newtech.

    This drug was bound to make a fortune.

    ¡°...Huh?¡±

    The strangeness began a littleter.

    What had felt like overflowing vigor and heightened senses began to exceed their limits.

    ¡°Agh, Aaaaaah!¡±

    Her senses, sharpened to the extreme, became unbearable.

    Even the breeze brushing against her skin felt like des slicing her flesh.

    ¡°Grahhh! Gaaah!¡±

    Her vision turned red.

    Voices echoed in her head.

    ¡ªKill.

    Kill, kill, kill the mage.

    That was Moira Main¡¯s final memory as herself.

    ¡°...Hey, something¡¯s off with her, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    Watching Moira Main standing motionless after the Water Veil dissipated, Fran murmured.

    Just as he said, her state seemed a little strange.

    ¡°Hm.¡±

    How to describe it?

    It was eerie.

    She stood on her tiptoes, with only her toes touching the ground, her back unnaturally straight, and her shoulders raised.

    Meanwhile, her head hung low, giving her the appearance of a corpse dangling from somewhere.

    ¡°...¡±

    The instincts honed through countless brushes with death screamed within him.

    That thing in front of him was no longer normal.

    ¡®What on earth happened in that brief moment?¡¯

    He had seen her take something earlier¡ªsome kind of pill¡ªbut could it really be connected to this?

    Uneasy, Oscar spoke up.

    ¡°Fran, attack.¡±

    ¡°Are you kidding? This¡¯ll be my third one. You know my arms are shaking already.¡±

    ¡°I know. Just try.¡±

    Fran nodded reluctantly and began his final dance.

    Whiiish!

    The wind-breaking whip, moving at supersonic speed, flew straight for Moira¡¯s neck.

    ¡°...!¡±

    But just before the whip reached her throat, the water moved as if alive, catching the whip.

    ¡°Damn it, so she¡¯s still a 5th-level mage after all?¡±

    ¡°...No.¡±

    Hearing Fran¡¯s muttering, Oscar shook his head.

    He had said it time and again: the ¡°Steel Dance¡± Fran wielded was fast and destructive enough to overwhelm most 5th-level mages.

    Hadn¡¯t Moira just coughed up blood earlier after being hit by the whip?

    ¡°...¡±

    Oscar slowly lifted his gaze to meet Moira¡¯s eyes.

    Red.

    Her once-brown eyes had turned blood-red, like the color of freshly spilled blood.

    It was as if she had manifested demonic energy, like a being from the underworld.

    ¡°What the hell is this¡­¡±

    Feeling the prickling aura on his skin, Oscar¡¯s expression turned icy.

    He had encountered it countless times in his past life and couldn¡¯t be mistaken.

    The energy Moira Main was exuding now was unmistakably the aura of demons:

    Demonic Energy.

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 Chapter 84

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    Chapter 84: Poxxon (5)

    Whooooosh!

    The sound of the fan''s wind roared incessantly in his ears.

    Even the powerful gusts failed to dispel the stench and humidity, and Fran swallowed hard.

    "O-Oscar. That thing... doesn¡¯t it look a bit... off?"

    "Not just a bit."

    What stood before them was an abomination, a human body exuding demonic energy.

    There was no doubt in Oscar¡¯s mind¡ªhe had never encountered such a being in his past life.

    ¡®Now that I think about it¡­¡¯

    He recalled a passing remark from Neb Grime during a conversation at the imperial pce.

    Simply put, they¡¯re humans transformed into something akin to demons. They call it a blessing and cooperate with demons to achieve that state. We call them ¡®Demonic-humans.¡¯ However, it¡¯s mostly rumors for now¡ªno concrete cases have ever surfaced.

    Perhaps this was what the demon worshippers had so fervently desired¡ªthe existence of a demonic human.

    ¡®Back then, I thought it was just some absurd, fantastical story.¡¯

    Now, with it standing right before his eyes, denial was no longer an option.

    Oscar¡¯s gaze deepened, grappling with a dilemma¡ªhow to perceive this being.

    ¡®Should I treat it as a human... or as a demon?¡¯

    The question brought an immediate chill, causing Fran to shiver uncontrobly.

    "I-Is it the water making me cold? Suddenly I feel a chill."

    "......"

    Oscar failed to suppress his killing intent for a brief moment.

    He nced at Fran¡¯s hand¡ªbruised blue, trembling, seemingly too weak to hold a whip.

    The explosive power of Dance of Steel had taken its toll.

    ¡®He probably can¡¯t use the whip anymore.¡¯

    Fran was no longer a viable ally in this fight.

    Without taking his eyes off the demonic human, Oscar muttered,

    "Fran, go back to the surface."

    "What? Why?"

    "Because you¡¯ll get in the way."

    The blunt yet scathing remark left Fran speechless.

    It was essentially saying he couldn¡¯t handle protecting Fran and fighting simultaneously.

    "...Alright."

    Clenching his lips, Fran nodded without protest.

    He understood Oscar¡¯s position, even if the words stung.

    ¡®If only I were stronger, we could fight together until the end.¡¯

    As a Level 4 mage, he was now being protected by a Level 3 mage.

    Despite recently perfecting a trump card, he could only use it three times in battle.

    ¡®...Damn it.¡¯

    The euphoria of defeating Veronica dissipated as quickly as it hade.

    He thought he had be a better mage, and it wasn¡¯t entirely false¡ªhe had bested someone he thought far superior.

    ¡®Next time, I won¡¯t leave so pathetically.¡¯

    He made a firm resolve, stepping back slowly as he offered one final word of encouragement.

    "Win."

    "I will."

    Fran turned and sprinted down one of the eight passageways.

    Only when Oscar confirmed he was gone did he feel a sense of relief.

    Now, he could bear whatever was toe on his own.

    "Hey."

    He called out to Moira Main.

    If even a shred of humanity remained within him, they couldmunicate.

    "Are you still alive?"

    "......"

    Oscar waited.

    If Moira was still human, she would answer.

    If she was a demon¡­

    "...Kill."

    He answered.

    Oscar narrowed his eyes and asked again,

    "What did you say?"

    "Kill... them all."

    For a moment, Moira¡¯s dead, fish-like eyes gained a spark of life.

    "Kill all mages."

    "...!"

    In an instant, the demonic energy she emitted surged like a torrential river on a rainy day.

    At the same time, thirteen tentacles shot out from the puddles around him.

    ¡®Thirteen?¡¯

    This was the same being who could barely control four earlier.

    Even among Blue Tower Level 5 mages, none could wield so many tentacles at once.

    "...What the hell have you consumed?"

    Frowning deeply, Oscar raised one hand above his head and began preparing a spell.

    ¡®I¡¯ll use the wind the fan generates to conserve mana as much as possible.¡¯

    The mana saved this way would be used to push the spell''s power and range to the limit.

    Whooooooosh!

    The fan¡¯s roar, which had been filling the purification zone, suddenly ceased.

    The fan hadn¡¯t stopped¡ªit spun faster than ever, generating more wind topensate for the decreased purification efficiency.

    All that wind was now being sucked into Oscar¡¯s spell.

    ¡®Phew, done.¡¯

    Above his head, near the ceiling, a small orb ofpressed wind took form.

    In terms of raw mana, it would take his entire reserve to create something of this magnitude.

    Yet the environment allowed him to achieve it¡ªthough it was still a minor imitation of what he¡¯d once wielded as a high-level mage in his past life.

    ¡®But for now, this will suffice.¡¯

    As Oscar exhaled in relief, Moira¡¯s lips moved.

    "Kill all mages."

    Moira now looked as if decades had passed in mere moments, her gaunt face twisted grotesquely.

    Even so, her blood-red eyes fixed sharply on Oscar.

    "Kill them all."

    Swoosh!

    Thirteen tentacles flew toward him at a speed iparable to before.

    But instead of dodging, Oscar gracefully lowered the hand he was holding.

    "Unleash it."

    The wind orb, "Core of the Storm," fell slowly and touched the filthy sewer floor.

    The moment it made contact, it shattered like a broken ss bead and unleashed a massive storm.

    BOOOOOM!

    The fierce winds tore through the tentacles, shredding them to pieces.

    "Every... mage..."

    The storm then surged toward Moira Main, mming her against the opposite wall.

    Thud!

    "Argh!"

    Moira let out a brief scream as she hit the hard ground.

    At the same time, the demonic energy piercing his skin vanished as if it had been a lie.

    "Gah... Damn it... What... is this..."

    Moira, her limbs shattered, twisted her face in pain as even breathing seemed agonizing.

    Oscar approached her, crouching down, and spoke.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om

    "Your ribs are broken and puncturing your lungs. Breathe as slowly as possible and don''t try anything foolish."

    "Pl-please... spare me..."

    Oscar took a potion from his pouch and spoke.

    "Answer my questions, and I''ll spare you. The drug you took¡ªwho gave it to you? Where are they from?"

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    "Drug? What... are you talking about?"

    "...You don¡¯t remember?"

    Had they prepared for this, even erasing short-term memory as a safeguard?

    If so, keeping her alive was the top priority.

    Later, they could figure out how to recover those memories by any means necessary.

    "Drink this for now. You must survive."

    The moment Oscar poured the potion into Moira''s mouth¡ª

    "Gah! Gaaahk!"

    Moira suddenly coughed up ck blood and began convulsing.

    Her breathing, which had be ragged in an instant, soon quieted like a dying ember before ceasing altogether.

    "......"

    Oscar examined the inside of Moira''s mouth for a moment before clicking his tongue.

    ¡®Pinero powder.¡¯

    The same powder Moira had used to turn the White Tower''s potions into poison.

    It seemed to have been an ingredient in the strange drug she''d consumed.

    ¡®Thorough. Utterly ruthless.¡¯

    The drug had been designed so that anyone who took it would inevitably die, no matter what measures were taken.

    Such a vicious method gave Oscar a sense of who might be behind it.

    ¡®It really does seem connected to those demon bastards...¡¯

    However, the so-called "Demonic Humans" weren''t particrly threatening.

    Although Moira Main''s magic had grown stronger after releasing demonic energy, that was all.

    ¡®They didn¡¯t have the high regenerative ability of true demons or any special powers.¡¯

    What, then, was the ultimate purpose behind the demons creating these "Demonic Humans"?

    Narrowing his eyes, Oscar nced at Moira and gently closed her lifeless eyes.

    * * *

    [Shocking! The Hidden Power Struggle Behind the Mosque Tragedy¡ªIs the Blue Tower the Viin?]

    [Citizens Caught in the Crossfire of Magic Towers¡ªCan This Go On?]

    [(Photo) Citizens Gather in Front of the Blue Tower in Rafs¡ªCriticism and Pointing Fingers Abound.]

    [Potion Market Ovepetition¡ªShould the Imperial Family Step In?]

    After it was revealed that a Blue Tower mage had been involved in the mercenaries'' deaths, public opinion turned sharply.

    The startled Blue Tower rushed to dere that Moira Main had acted alone and that they were unaware, but the mes of outrage were not easily quelled.

    "If they knew, they''re aplices; if they didn¡¯t, they''re ipetent."

    In the end, the Blue Tower''s deputy master had to step forward to offer a public apology.

    Normally, Oscar would have mocked them, but he had no time to concern himself with their predicament.

    "...You sensed something strange?"

    "Yes. It wasn¡¯t quite magic, but something different¡ªtingling, almost electric."

    Upon returning to the White Tower, Oscar immediately reported the incident to the deputy master.

    The reason was simple.

    ¡®This will go into the Special Task Unit''s activity report anyway, but reporting it directly will get it to the Imperial Family faster.¡¯

    He was well aware of his limitations.

    Attempting to investigate NewTech, track demons, or chase the ck Fingers on his own would be inefficient.

    He simply wasn¡¯t strong enough to do it all alone.

    ¡®I need to take the more efficient and faster route.¡¯

    That meant leveraging the Imperial Family.

    Even now, the mention of the Demonic Human had caused Deputy Master Hamel''s expression to grow grim.

    "Did you happen to notice the opponent¡¯s eyes at the time?"

    "Oh, right. They turned red. They were originally brown."

    "Hmm..."

    Hamel let out a heavy sigh and nodded.

    "Include detailed information about this incident in your activity report."

    "Understood."

    "You weren¡¯t injured, were you?"

    "Fortunately, no."

    Technically, Fran had been injured.

    When Oscar mentioned this, the deputy master tilted his head.

    "Really? Before you arrived, Fran came to see me."

    "What? Why?"

    "He submitted a request for closed-door training."

    Fran had voluntarily requested seclusion for training?

    Him?

    Hearing this unexpected news, Oscar smirked.

    ¡®...It must have really bothered him that he couldn¡¯t fight alongside me until the end.¡¯

    But it was a good sign.

    True strength lies in acknowledging and confronting one¡¯s shorings.

    ¡®You have to face it. Only then can you ovee it.¡¯

    Fran had recognized his shorings and chosen to seclude himself to address them.

    Oscar spected that Fran would likely emerge having improved his basic physical condition and further refined his "Steel Dance."

    ¡®I¡¯m looking forward to it.¡¯

    How much would the reinterpreted and advanced Steel Dance differ from what he knew?

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 Chapter 85

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    Chapter 85: The Wind Tribe (1)

    Returning to the special operations office, Oscar shared the events at the Mosque with Killian and Veronica.

    ¡°It¡¯s about unleashing a burst of power instantaneously. From the description, it¡¯s quite simr to the activation of ancient tattoos used by our tribe.¡±

    ¡°But it¡¯s fundamentally different. This is a one-time use ability.¡±

    In reality, Moira, who had temporarily turned into a Demonic Human, had all her mana circuits burned out afterward.

    Even if she had survived, she wouldn¡¯t have been able to use magic ever again.

    Listening quietly with her arms crossed, Veronica asked in a serious tone.

    ¡°So, this is also the work of those guys who attacked us in Vince, right?¡±

    ¡°Highly likely. When I had a conversation with someone from the Imperial Family before, I heard a bit about the connection between the ck Fingers and the Demonic Humans.¡±

    ¡°...No matter how I look at it, this feels like a scheme targeting you.¡±

    Oscar nodded in agreement.

    ¡°What happened in Vince was probably a coincidence. We identally disrupted their n back then. But this time, they tantly aimed at the White Tower from the start.¡±

    ¡°They must have predicted that you, as the chief responsible for the potion controversy, would step in.¡±

    And that prediction was spot on.

    The incident was resolved well, but the fact remained that they had yed into the enemy¡¯s hands.

    ¡°In my opinion, they had two major objectives for this operation.¡±

    ¡°Two? What are they?¡±

    ¡°The first is obvious¡ªto kill me.¡±

    At his calm deration, the two flinched.

    ¡°What¡¯s with the surprise? If I hadn¡¯t defeated that Demonic Human, I would¡¯ve died right there.¡±

    ¡°...That means these guys have no qualms about killing mages of the White Tower.¡±

    ¡°These are lunatics who tried to erase an entire city. Expecting sanity from them is pointless.¡±

    The atmosphere in the room grew heavy.

    Oscar was the only one unfazed by the discussion.

    Feeling a strange sense of dissonance, Veronica frowned and asked,

    ¡°...You. I¡¯ve always wondered, aren¡¯t you afraid of dying?¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡±

    Mages of the White Tower, as a rule, were far removed from death.

    Due to their high social status, unless they took on dangerous missions, no one dared harm them.

    ¡°Death, huh.¡±

    Caught off guard by the question, Oscar gave it serious thought.

    Of course, no one wees death.

    Naturally, he was no different.

    ¡®But¡­¡¯

    He had ovee the despair and fear death brought.

    To be more precise, he had to ovee it.

    It wasn¡¯t because he was extraordinary; it was simply a matter of survival at the time.

    ¡®For those who couldn¡¯t conquer their fear of death, only ruin awaited.¡¯

    Either they went mad, or they froze in terror on the battlefield and actually died.

    To survive, one had to ovee fear in some way or another.

    Everyone who lived through the era of war with the demons was like that.

    ¡°I¡¯d say it¡¯s less about being scared and more about hating the idea? No one likes dying.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    For someone speaking so casually about it, he seemed far tooposed.

    Swallowing the words she wanted to say, Veronica nodded.

    ¡°Fine, I get it. What¡¯s the second objective?¡±

    ¡°I think they were testing the performance of the Demonic Humans.¡±

    Oscar recalled his battle with Moira.

    ¡°Although she temporarily turned into a Demonic Human after taking that strange drug, it didn¡¯t feel like a finished product.¡±

    ¡°What makes you think that?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­¡±

    Of course, he could tell because he had faced countless demons in person.

    But he couldn¡¯t say that outright.

    Oscar shrugged.

    ¡°Just a hunch. And she broke down as soon as she was attacked, didn¡¯t she? No matter how you look at it, it¡¯s hard to believe that¡¯s the ck Fingers¡¯ idea of apleted Demonic Human.¡±

    ¡°In other words, their second goal was to test the drug¡¯s performance on a high-level mage like a Level 5.¡±

    Killian summarized neatly.

    ¡°Exactly. But no mage of that level would voluntarily take such a suspicious drug. That¡¯s why they used someone like Moira Main, who had a grudge against me.¡±

    ¡°So, in short, the ck Fingers didn¡¯t suffer any losses from this incident.¡±

    ¡°On the contrary, they gained something.¡±

    It was a n designed so they¡¯d gain at least one thing, no matter who won.

    Utterly despicable yet brilliantly calcted.

    ¡°Oscar. If they doplete this drug to create Demonic Humans, how powerful do you think it would be?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ that depends on how you definepletion.¡±

    If the ultimate goal of the Demonic Human experiment was to turn humans intoplete demons, humanity would have to stop it at all costs.

    ¡®But that won¡¯t happen.¡¯

    He had already experienced it, even if only once.

    From what he observed, a Demonic Human merely converted a human¡¯s mana into demonic energy.

    While it temporarily boosted destructive power, in other aspects, they were still human.

    ¡®Whether the ck Fingers realize this or not, even a perfected Demonic Human¡­¡¯

    Would never surpass a demon.

    Not ever.

    The limits of a Demonic Human, as far as he saw it, were clear.

    ¡°Even ifpleted, the limit would be raising a mage¡¯s level by two at most. And that, only for lower-level mages.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. What if a high-level mage took it?¡±

    ¡°A high-level mage?¡±

    Oscar paused.

    To be honest, he would bet his entire fortune that no high-level mage would willingly consume such a thing.

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    ¡®But hypothetically, if they did¡­¡¯

    If forced by circumstances, what would happen?

    After pondering, Oscar shook his head.

    ¡°I can¡¯t say for sure, but I¡¯d call it a catastrophe.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Yes. But it¡¯s a meaningless hypothesis, so let¡¯s drop it.¡±

    ¡°Understood.¡±

    Concluding the conversation, Oscar addressed them firmly.

    ¡°In any case, I called you here today to warn you to stay alert.¡±

    The two¡¯s expressions turned serious.

    "ck Fingers. That insane group worshipping the demons might target the White Tower again. Stay vignt in everything you do from now on. If you sense anything strange, share the information immediately."

    "Understood."

    "Alright."

    As the meeting ended, the two left the room.

    Then, as if waiting for the opportunity, another figure entered.

    "Is the discussion over?"

    "...Hagor?"

    "The atmosphere seemed quite serious, so I didn''t step in."

    "Thanks for the consideration. Do you have some business? Oh, now that I think about it¡ª"

    Oscar btedly checked the calendar on the desk.

    Seeing this, Hagor smirked and nodded.

    "Yes. The modifications areplete."

    * * *

    13th Floor, the Dwarves¡¯ Workshop.

    Even Oscar himself had never entered this ce before.

    "Oh..."

    Oscar let out a small exmation as the elevator doors opened, and the intense heat hit his face.

    The entire floor was an open workshop with a massive furnace reaching up to the ceiling in the center.

    "It might be a bit hot for a human. Will you be alright?"

    "Yes, I can endure it."

    Truthfully, it wasn¡¯t just ¡°hot¡± ¡ª it was scorching.

    The heat from the giant furnace made the environment feel more fiery than warm.

    Oscar had already been using magic to wrap his body in air to regte his temperature.

    "Good to hear. This way."

    Hagor led him to a bike parked nearby, which looked vastly different from before.

    As Oscar admired the sleek, aerodynamic cowling, he spoke up.

    "A lot has changed. But... didn¡¯t you put too much effort into the exterior?"

    "Hmph, I couldn''t bring myself to release junk just because time was tight. Besides, didn¡¯t you say you wanted it to look impressive enough to catch anyone¡¯s eye?"

    "Well, I did say that."

    But he didn¡¯t expect it to be this extravagant.

    Upon closer inspection, the bike looked like a master sculptor had poured their soul into crafting it.

    "No need to worry, though. I paid even more attention to the bike''s performance than its appearance."

    "I''m looking forward to it."

    Oscar greeted the dwarves gathering around him with nods before continuing.

    "If you don¡¯t mind, could you exin the added features and what¡¯s been removed? I¡¯m curious."

    "Not a problem."

    Standing in front of the bike, Hagor began pointing out various parts as he exined.

    "First off, I removed the front and rear wheels. Since it¡¯ll be flying, they¡¯re unnecessary. This also helped reduce weight."

    "Likewise, I got rid of the suspension. A flying bike isn¡¯t going to get into traffic idents."

    "Uh... but wouldn¡¯t that make it unsafe?"

    At this, Hagor chuckled softly.

    "You think we wouldn¡¯t consider that? We¡¯ve already worked with the White Tower¡¯s mages to enchant the bike¡¯s underside. It¡¯s equipped with magic to cushion impact uponnding, as well as an omni-directional safety spell that activates under heavy pressure. It¡¯s simr to that airbag thing I¡¯ve heard about in cars."

    "I see."

    In short, basic safety measures were in ce.

    Relieved, Oscar continued listening.

    "Additionally, I installed a flight control system in the handle¡¯s gear section with button-based operations. Ascending and descending are so intuitive that even a child could master it with just 10 minutes of practice."

    "Naturally, we implemented dual security to prevent unauthorized use: a magic code and biometric recognition. Plus, the White Tower embedded a tracking spell that can be activated at any time, so you won¡¯t have to worry about theft."

    "As for this sleek cowling you¡¯re admiring¡ªit¡¯s not just for looks. It¡¯s a product of cutting-edge aerodynamics, reducing air resistance as the bike flies."

    "Once airborne, a HUD (Head-Up Disy) will appear at the front, showing wind speed, bike velocity, navigation, and all the critical information a pilot might need."

    p, p, p.

    Oscar, jaw agape, burst into apuse.

    The result exceeded even his wildest expectations.

    "The craftsmanship of dwarf artisans is truly remarkable. No, it feels like the rumors don¡¯t do justice to your skills."

    His genuine admiration made the dwarves blush and rub their noses in embarrassment.

    "Ahem. It¡¯s been a while since we¡¯ve heard such praise."n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om

    "This is it¡ªthe feeling of having one¡¯sbor truly appreciated."

    Oscar¡¯s standing ovation continued for a full five minutes.

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 Chapter 86

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    Chapter 86: The Wind Tribe (2)

    With the bikes ready, there was no reason to dy the recruitment interviews any longer.

    ¡°We¡¯ll start in two days.¡±

    With Oscar¡¯s deration, the official recruitment interviews began.

    Of course, given that applicants wereing from all over the continent, it wasn¡¯t something that could be wrapped up in a day or two.

    Watching the flood of people pouring into Sirin like a tidal wave, he moved quickly.

    ¡°Post an official notice in the city that those who fail the interview must leave quickly.¡±

    Pedro X, the head of the Delivery Department, questioned the reasoning behind this.

    ¡°Why the rush? Letting them stay here to y, eat, and sleep will only boost the city¡¯s economy.¡±

    ¡°Do you know how many interviewees are currently in Sirin?¡±

    ¡°Over 7,000, I believe.¡±

    ¡°And do you know how many people applied for this recruitment?¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­ no idea?¡±

    Oscar shrugged.

    ¡°Just over 90,000 as of this morning. And that¡¯s not counting how many more will apply during the interview period.¡±

    ¡°Ny¡­ ny thousand? You¡¯re not seriously nning to screen every single one of them, are you?¡±

    ¡°I am.¡±

    The Delivery Department was about to be one of the twin pirs driving the White Tower¡¯s operations, alongside the Potion Department.

    Naturally, it was imperative to select only the best and most suitable candidates.

    ¡°In business, rushing to fill positions carelessly always backfires.¡±

    ¡°But if that many people visit Sirin at once¡­¡±

    ¡°The city will be paralyzed. That¡¯s why we need to swiftly send away those who have finished their interviews.¡±

    Oscar had already anticipated that this recruitment process would be a marathon.

    With applicantsing from across the continent, it would likely take around three weeks toplete.

    ¡°For the next three weeks, you won¡¯t have a moment to catch your breath.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡­¡±

    Maybe he should have stepped down from his position as the head of the Delivery Department when the topic first came up.

    Pedro started to seriously reconsider.

    * * *

    The interviewssted a total of 24 days.

    During that time, more than 162,000 outsiders visited Sirin¡ªan unprecedented number in the past 20 years.

    ¡°¡­Finally over.¡±

    As the saying goes, even a dried fish releases water when squeezed.

    Pedro X, already gaunt to begin with, looked even more emaciated.

    He was the type of man who took his responsibilities seriously, ensuring everything under his charge was handled properly.

    In short, he had endured every conceivable hardship over the past 24 days.

    ¡°Yes, the restructuring of the Delivery Department isplete, and now we just need to conduct a field test.¡±

    ¡°Field test? Aren¡¯t we just restarting operations?¡±

    ¡°There could be unforeseen variables we haven¡¯t ounted for. We¡¯ll conduct internal tests within Sirin first, and if there are no issues, we¡¯ll proceed with the original n to roll out services to nearby territories.¡±

    ¡°Hmm, that makes sense¡­¡±

    Nodding in agreement, Pedro suddenly seemed to realize something.

    Turning to Oscar, he asked:

    ¡°But, tell me. You n and execute everything rted to this division. Do you really even need me?¡±

    ¡°Of course. With you here, I can boldly pursue various initiatives without hesitation.¡±

    Oscar couldn¡¯t run the operations forever.

    The Potion Department had Lena White, and the Delivery Department had Pedro X.

    Once he firmly established these two, he nned to focus more on magic.

    ¡®No matter how much money the Magic Towers earn, their foundation is still military strength.¡¯

    Even if the Yellow, Red, and Blue Towers were financially sessful, they would never have risen to their current prominence without high-level mages.

    In other words, Oscar¡¯s current n was to get the businesses running smoothly so he could dedicate himself to magic training as soon as possible.

    ¡°Thanks for saying that. I appreciate it, but¡­¡±

    Why did he still feel uneasy?

    Unable to voice his concerns, Pedro continued:

    ¡°There are a few things I¡¯m curious about.¡±

    ¡°Ask away.¡±

    ¡°I reviewed the device specs, and they¡¯re quite different from the materials I originally received. Why impose an altitude limit? And the Zephyr-001 bike¡ªwasn¡¯t it supposed to run for days on a single charge? Why downgrade it to require recharging every six hours?¡±

    Oscar had expected these questions.

    Apetent person would naturally notice these discrepancies.

    Ready to provide an exnation, he began delving into deeper details.

    ¡°It¡¯s all because of the Yellow Tower.¡±

    ¡°¡­The Yellow Tower?¡±

    Pedro¡¯s expression grew serious at the sudden mention of another Magic Tower.

    ¡°Tell me more.¡±

    ¡°As you know, the Yellow Tower is currently developing trains. ording to my research, these are next-generation transportation vehicles that traverse the continent at high speeds. Based on my calctions, they¡¯ll likely reach a speed of at least 170 mph.¡±

    ¡°Wait.¡±

    Pedro raised his hand to interrupt.

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand the imperial system. Why are you even using such an outdated unit?¡±

    ¡°¡­My apologies. Let me correct that: 273 km/h.¡±

    Oscar responded sheepishly.

    He had assumed a Level 6 mage would be familiar with and use miles, so this was slightly disappointing.

    Back when he was younger, it had been trendy to convert all units to inches, miles, and pounds for fun.

    ¡°In summary, you¡¯re saying the Zephyr-001 must not provoke the Yellow Tower. Is that correct?¡±

    ¡°Exactly. If they perceive our bikes as a threat to their trains, they¡¯ll go to any lengths to interfere. We absolutely must avoid that.¡±

    ¡°True. After all, thest thing we need is a roadblock just as we¡¯vepleted restructuring and are about to runch.¡±

    Nodding in understanding, Pedro grasped the reasoning.

    ¡°So, the performance downgrade was a deliberate move to conceal the bike¡¯s capabilities.¡±

    ¡°Correct.¡±

    ¡°In that case, we need to tighten internal security. Other factions are bound to approach our riders.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a good point. I¡¯ll leave that to you.¡±

    The two continued exchanging ideaste into the night.

    And the next day, the much-anticipated ¡°Wind Tribe¡± service officiallyunched.

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    * * *

    Tofre, a journalist for NowYou Sirin, one of Sirin¡¯s media outlets, kept ncing at the clock.

    Lunch break, the second-best part of his day, was about to begin.

    For the record, his favorite part was clocking out.

    ¡°Everyone, go grab lunch!¡±

    At the boss¡¯s call, the staff poured out of the office.

    Merging with the crowd, Tofre naturally slipped into a nearby alley.

    ck, hiss!N?v(el)B\\jnn

    ¡°Hoo¡­¡±

    Letting out a heavy sigh, equivalent to a 20-cigarette puff, the man was approached by a friend working in the building across from him.

    ¡°Tofre, what are you thinking of eating for lunch today?¡±

    ¡°Hmm. Do I even have a choice?¡±

    Just like in any other city, the work at a news agency was always demanding.

    Lunchtime was limited to a mere 40 minutes, leaving no real room to enjoy a proper meal.

    ¡°I¡¯ll probably grab a sandwich from the bakery across the street.¡±

    ¡°Sandwiches again?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, no time for anything else.¡±

    As soon as he replied, a wave of gloom washed over him.

    At some point, he had stopped finding enjoyment in life.

    It felt as if he were just a cog in the vast machinery of society, endlessly turning without purpose.

    ¡®Rush to work with only milk and fruit for breakfast, get by with a sandwich for lunch...¡¯

    And it wasn¡¯t as if dinner was a feast, either.

    After returning home exhausted from work, he¡¯d often settle for something quick and simple before copsing onto his bed.

    ¡°Is this how adults are supposed to live?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re kind of an extreme case. No wonder turnover rates at news agencies are so high.¡±

    His friend, Oliver, who had just stubbed out his cigarette, asked casually:

    ¡°If you haven¡¯t decided what to eat yet, why not join me at the park? I ordered some food.¡±

    ¡°Ordered food? What do you mean, ordered food?¡±

    That sounded like something only big-shot executives or their secretaries would do.

    Oliver slung an arm over his shoulder and grinned.

    ¡°Tut, tut. How can a reporter like you be so out of the loop? You know about White Tower revamping their delivery service, don¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Of course. The entire city was noisy with interviews and whatnot just a while ago. How could I not know?¡±

    The streets had been so packed during that time that hismute had been a nightmare.

    To be honest, he had harbored a fair bit of resentment toward White Tower because of it.

    ¡°Well, as an apology for the hassle over the past few weeks, White Tower is offering a one-time free service to all Sirin citizens.¡±

    ¡°A free service?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s for Wind Tribe, White Tower¡¯s revamped delivery service.¡±

    ¡°Oh, that thing.¡±

    Tofre had heard the name before.

    Wind Tribe.

    It was the name of the newly restructured delivery businessunched by White Tower, which had previously halted its delivery operations.

    ¡°But what does that have to do with food? Isn¡¯t delivery just for letters or packages?¡±

    ¡°Nope. The new Wind Tribe has added a new category¡ªultrafast delivery.¡±

    ¡°Ultrafast delivery?¡±

    Just as Tofre was about to ask what that meant, a shadow loomed over their heads.

    Vrrrrrooom!

    ¡°Whoa! Whoa, whoa!¡±

    Hovering above them was a mysterious machine.

    Its sleek, dolphin-like form made it seem almost futuristic.

    A man in a white uniform descended from the machine, tipping his goggles in greeting.

    ¡°Good day. I¡¯m a Wind Rider. Are you Oliver?¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes! I ordered two pasta dishes from 4th Avenue, along with drinks and fries. Here¡¯s the caller device.¡±

    Oliver handed over a small device he had received from the order center, which the Wind Rider epted with a nod.

    ¡°Identity confirmed, and the caller device has been retrieved. As a first-time user, the delivery fee is waived. Please enjoy your meal.¡±

    Handing over the food bag, the Rider coolly mounted his machine again and soared into the sky.

    Tofre, stunned by the spectacle, muttered under his breath.

    ¡°What¡­ What was that?¡±

    ¡°That? White Tower¡¯s new Zephyr-001, I think it¡¯s called.¡±

    ¡°A flying vehicle¡­¡±

    Tofre, who had always kept his eyes fixed on the ground while walking, finally looked up at the sky.

    And what he saw left him in shock.

    Dozens, no, hundreds of machines were buzzing across the skies of Sirin in perfect coordination.

    ¡°Are all of those¡­?¡±

    ¡°Yep. Probably all busy because people like me are ordering food. Or they might be delivering important documents or items.¡±

    At the nearby park, Tofre sat with Oliver, savoring the steaming pasta.

    ¡°It¡¯s warm and delicious!¡±

    ¡°Well, of course. It¡¯s delivered right after being cooked.¡±

    A service where you could enjoy such meals without having to go anywhere?

    The taste was indistinguishable from eating at a restaurant.

    ¡®No, it¡¯s even better.¡¯

    Eating restaurant-quality food outdoors was refreshing and fun in a way he hadn¡¯t expected.

    ¡°Hey, hey, no need to eat so fast!¡±

    ¡°Sorry. I just want to finish quickly and write an article about this.¡±

    ¡°Geez, you¡¯re such a reporter.¡±

    Oliver shook his head, though he too seemed thoroughly pleased with Wind Tribe¡¯s service.

    Scenes like theirs were unfolding all over Sirin at that very moment.

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 Chapter 87

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    Chapter 87: The Wind Tribe (3)

    The Eastern Yellow Tower.

    The atmosphere in the regr meeting held there was starkly different from usual.

    It felt heavier, more rigid¡ªcharged with tension.

    ¡°Let¡¯s begin the briefing.¡±

    With the mage¡¯s words, a massive photograph appeared in front of the conference room.

    The image depicted a person riding a uniquely designed bike, soaring over the tops of buildings.

    ¡°This is the product the White Tower purchased and modified. Its official name is Zephyr-001. It¡¯s designed as a flying vehicle and serves as the coreponent of their newly revamped delivery business.¡±

    The mages widened their eyes at the shocking revtion.

    ¡°A flying vehicle¡­? Is that even possible?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s absurd. Airships are notoriously inefficient.¡±

    ¡°Haven¡¯t we already conducted extensive research on this?¡±

    ¡°Quiet.¡±

    The noise in the room was silenced by Tony Havertz, head of the Magical Engineering Department.

    He spoke without taking his eyes off the vivid photograph.

    ¡°What are the device¡¯s specifications?¡±

    ¡°The maximum altitude is 15 meters, and it can operate for up to six hours. Based on this, the Intelligence Department has determined that the White Tower does not currently possess the magic Ouroboros.¡±

    A collective sigh of relief spread across the room, and Tony¡¯s expression also softened.

    ¡°That¡¯s fortunate. How does itpare to the airships we¡¯ve developed in the past?¡±

    ¡°While it¡¯s certainly better in terms of specs, it falls far short of being revolutionary.¡±

    That was enough.

    A shared thought flickered in everyone¡¯s minds.

    If there had been even the slightest trace of Ouroboros magic in the White Tower¡¯s new Zephyr-001, they would have had to prepare for full-scale war.

    ¡°If the opportunity arises, acquire one for investigation. There might be hidden magic within.¡±

    ¡°Understood.¡±

    ¡°What about the White Tower¡¯s new delivery business that uses this vehicle?¡±

    ¡°At present, it¡¯s nearly perfect and has no realpetition.¡±

    Tony raised an eyebrow in rare surprise at the Intelligence Department mage¡¯s praise.

    ¡°That impressive?¡±

    ¡°Yes. The vehicle is easy enough for an ordinary person to learn to ride with minimal practice, and with its overwhelming speed of up to 100 km/h, their express delivery service is receiving rave reviews.¡±

    ¡°Express delivery service? What does that entail?¡±

    ¡°As the name suggests, it¡¯s a service for Ultra-fast deliveries. Within the service area, people can quickly send or receive goods, and they can even order food to be delivered to their location.¡±

    The mages, imagining this scenario, nodded one by one.

    The idea of ordering food without leaving home was highly appealing.

    ¡°How are orders ced?¡±

    ¡°Customers either contact the order center via amunicator or visit the center directly to make a reservation.¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡±

    Tony nodded as he listened.

    ¡°The business model seems quite solid. As long as there are no major incidents, they can continue to expand.¡±

    ¡°I agree. In fact, surveys of citizens who have used the service show very high satisfaction. It¡¯s likely the service will expand nationwide.¡±

    ¡°Humans always seek a more convenient life.¡±

    That was both the driving force and the foundation of civilization¡¯s progress.

    Recognizing the potential of this business, Tony quickly realized what actions they needed to take.

    ¡°As this Wind Tribe business grows, so will the usage and sales ofmunicators.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s highly probable. People will likely grow tired of visiting the order center in person.¡±

    ¡°Then create an affordablemunicator model that even ordinary office workers can purchase. It only needs basicmunication functions, and its service area can be limited to the user¡¯s city of residence.¡±

    ¡°Ah, so it¡¯s a product specifically targeting Wind Tribe users. Understood.¡±

    As a subordinate mage marveled at the idea, the head of the Government Affairs Department, who had been silently listening, spoke up.

    ¡°Head of Magical Engineering, could we not find a way to utilize those vehicles ourselves?¡±

    ¡°Utilize them? How?¡±

    ¡°Well, once the railway isplete andrge-scale trade begins, we still won¡¯t be able to transport goods deep into each city. Building the necessary infrastructure for that would cost astronomical amounts.¡±

    ¡°Go on.¡±

    ¡°In short, when the timees, why not make the White Tower a subcontractor for us?¡±

    That was effectively suggesting they absorb the White Tower¡¯s business.

    ¡°Hmm. While the White Tower certainly has data and expertise in urban deliveries, what incentive would they have to handle menial tasks for us when they hold such a powerful new weapon in express delivery?¡±

    ¡°Precisely why now is the perfect time to bring them under control.¡±

    A sly smile appeared on the Intelligence Department head¡¯s lips.

    ¡°The original prototype of their vehicle came from our Yellow Tower, did it not? They took our bike without permission and modified it. Unless they obtain our consent, we should render their vehicles unusable.¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡±

    It was a baseless argument unworthy of a response.

    But after some thought, Tony nodded.

    ¡°It¡¯s not entirely wrong.¡±

    There are moments in life when the content of a statement and its truthfulness be irrelevant¡ªmoments when the speaker wields overwhelming power.

    ¡°It¡¯s been a while since Ist contacted the Imperial Family.¡±

    A singlemunication would bring pressure on the White Tower at an imperial level.

    Excuses to cause trouble were endless.

    Safety inspections, license registrations, potential privacy invasions¡­

    In the end, it would just be a matter of interpretation.

    * * *

    ¡°The Imperial Family?¡±

    Oscar repeated with a sour expression. It was no wonder¡ªhis flourishing business was suddenly being put on hold.

    Pedro X pressed his temples as he exined.

    ¡°Yes. They im they¡¯re visiting Sirin to personally inspect the performance of these novel vehicles, but their tone was¡­ rather negative.¡±

    ¡°...So they¡¯re not pleased.¡±

    Pedro nodded weakly.

    ¡°It seemed abrupt, so I looked into it personally. Turns out the official in question received schrships from the Yellow Tower during his academy days. It¡¯s likely their influence is involved.¡±

    ¡°Hah.¡±

    Oscar let out a bitterugh.

    So this is how you want to y?

    He didn¡¯t particrly enjoy muddy fights.

    Winning or losing, they always left a bad taste in his mouth.

    But if they¡¯re going to muddy the waters first, he has no choice.

    The water had already turned so murky that it was impossible to see even a step ahead.

    To restore rity, there was no choice but to catch the catfish stirring up trouble underwater.

    ¡°I¡¯ll handle this part, so you just stay put, senior.¡±

    ¡°What? How are you going to solve this¡­ No, never mind.¡±

    Pedro, who was about to ask something, shook his head.

    If that guy said so, he would find a way to deliver results, no matter what.

    Just as Oscar had figured out how to use him, Pedro, too, hade to understand how to use Oscar.

    ¡°You¡¯ll take care of it well, I trust you.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    Oscar replied confidently, then immediately headed to the special operations office and picked up themunicator ced there.

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    * * *

    Vroom.

    A ck sedan slid across an unpaved road, its license te gleaming silver.

    This indicated that a member of the royal administration was inside.

    In fact, a man recliningfortably in the back seat opened his mouth to speak.

    ¡°Hmph. This ce, Sirin, was once called a major city, and yet the state of its surrounding roads is atrocious.¡±

    The reply came from the secretary seated in the front passenger seat.

    ¡°It¡¯s likely because of the severe damage caused by the war. They¡¯ve poured their efforts into restoring the magic tower and the city itself rather than fixing the roads.¡±

    The luxurious car jolted on the uneven surface, prompting the man to shake his head.

    ¡°Luang, on the other hand, has smooth, paved roads even two hours out from its outskirts¡­¡±

    ¡°Haha, there¡¯s a reason it¡¯s called the heart of the East. It¡¯s equipped with infrastructure rivaling that of a capital city.¡±

    ¡°I had high expectations since Sirin is a subsidiary territory of one of the four major magic towers, such as the Yellow Tower, but as expected, nothing beats the Yellow Tower.¡±

    ¡°Y-yes, indeed.¡±

    The secretary responded with an awkward smile, all the while thinking:

    ¡®This guy, it¡¯s not like he¡¯s openly unting that he¡¯s getting pocket money from the Yellow Tower or anything. Always ¡®Yellow Tower, Yellow Tower.¡¯ I¡¯m sick of it.¡¯

    The inspector he served from the Royal Technology Verification Bureau was a textbook Yellow Tower loyalist.

    If someone told him to eliminate either the royal family or the Yellow Tower, he would likely choose to keep thetter.

    It wasn¡¯t surprising, considering he had received unwavering support from the Yellow Tower since his youth, paving his way to sess.

    ¡°Inspector, I¡¯ve summarized the safety evaluation criteria for today¡¯s subject, Zephyr-001, in this document.¡±

    ¡°Hm.¡±

    ncing over the document briefly, the inspector tossed it onto the seat beside him and said,

    ¡°How can you assess safety with these rigid and formic criteria? Leave it to me, and don¡¯t worry about it.¡±

    ¡°¡­Yes, sir.¡±

    As they approached the vicinity of Sirin, the road quality improved noticeably.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

    The sedan swiftly arrived at the White Tower and came to a stop at its entrance.

    ¡°Ahem.¡±

    When the secretary opened the car door, the inspector finally stepped out with his hands sped behind his back.

    Waiting for him was a youthful-looking man.

    ¡°Thank you for making the long journey. I¡¯m Oscar Crucian, and I¡¯ll be your guide today.¡±

    ¡°Hm. Oscar Crucian, I¡¯ve heard the name a few times.¡±

    Wasn¡¯t this the mage making waves recently?

    Nodding a couple of times, the inspector spoke.

    ¡°I¡¯m Hugo Morales, an inspector from the Royal Verification Bureau. No need for small talk; let¡¯s get straight to seeing the device.¡±

    ¡°Understood. Allow me to lead you to the location.¡±

    Oscar guided them to the White Tower¡¯s outdoor training ground and spoke along the way.

    ¡°We were conducting a performance check in anticipation of a visit from a royal official.¡±

    ¡°A performance check of your own? What a pointless waste of effort.¡±

    Hugo frowned.

    ¡°Any internal experiments you conduct hold no credibility or validity. I only document what I see, feel, and judge with my own eyes to report to the higher-ups.¡±

    ¡°Ah, is that so?¡±

    ¡°Yes. So don¡¯t bother trying to pull the wool over my eyes and just show me the device.¡±

    When they arrived at the outdoor training ground, just as Oscar had said, a bike was flying through the air.

    After performing shy spins and abrupt brakes, the bike, which had undergone rigorous testing, gentlynded on the training ground.

    ¡°Hm. This is impressive. Based on my personal evaluation, the safety merits a perfect score.¡±

    The man dismounted the bike and spoke, helmet still on.

    Hugo snorted.

    ¡°And what do you know to talk about perfect scores? I¡¯ll be the judge. Step aside to the back.¡±

    ¡°¡­.¡±

    Without a word, the man retreated under Hugo¡¯s stern gaze.

    Hugo then meticulously inspected Zephyr-001, tapping and probing it here and there, and eventually frowned.

    ¡°Hm. It looks flimsy, even at a nce.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not true. It¡¯s actually equipped with various protective spells¡­¡±

    ¡°Enough. I make the judgments here. Don¡¯t try to impose your personal opinions on me.¡±

    Cutting him off sharply, Hugo continued with a series of stability tests, only to shake his head again.

    ¡°It¡¯s not bad, but unfortunately, it doesn¡¯t meet the standard. It¡¯s disqualified.¡±

    ¡°Disqualified? What does that mean?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll need to make improvements and pass the technical verification next time. Let me offer you some advice.¡±

    With those words, Hugo pulled out a business card from his pocket.

    Oscar, looking at it, asked,

    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the card of a mage I know from the Yellow Tower. I suggest you request technical coboration with them. They¡¯re highly skilled, and with their help, you¡¯re sure to pass the next evaluation.¡±

    ¡°No, thank you. We can handle it with our own technology.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. You¡¯re young and clearly don¡¯t understand the subtleties of what I¡¯m saying¡­¡±

    As Hugo let his irritation show, ready to say more¡ª

    ¡°So this is the reason I was called here.¡±

    A voice interrupted, belonging to a man who had approached them unnoticed.

    Hugo flinched, startled by the sudden presence.

    ¡°H-how dare a mere rider butt into this conversation uninvited!¡±

    ¡°¡­¡­¡±

    As the man slowly removed his helmet, his neatly trimmed hair came into view.

    At the same time, Hugo Morales¡¯ eyes widened in shock as he recognized the face.

    ¡°So, do I now have the right to join this conversation?¡±

    The icy gaze of Chief Walker bore into Hugo like he was looking at an insect.

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 Chapter 88

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    Chapter 88: The Wind Tribe (4)

    Hugo, who had always disyed an arrogant demeanor, froze.

    It wasn¡¯t a mere figure of speech¡ªhis finger, which had been pointed usingly at Walker, was nowpletely still.

    ¡°Um, Sir Arbiter, perhaps you should... move your finger first.¡±

    ¡°Huh? Oh, right.¡±

    Snapping back to his senses at his secretary¡¯s words, Hugo hastily lowered his finger and tucked it behind his back.

    He then offered a sheepish smile, stammering.

    ¡°Ch-Chief Inspector Walker, what brings you here? No, rather, since when have you...?¡±

    ¡°I arrived this morning.¡±

    Thunk, thunk.

    Walker tapped his bike with the helmet he was holding.

    ¡°To inspect the stability performance of this machine.¡±

    ¡°That¡ªsuch a minor task, why would someone of your stature in the Ministry of Public Safety personally...?¡±

    ¡°A minor task?¡±

    Walker¡¯s eyes narrowed.

    The gaze that followed was one of reproach.

    ¡°Do you truly think so?¡±

    ¡°Well...¡±

    Hugo avoided his gaze, fumbling for an escape.

    His mind raced with one thought: to survive this situation.

    ¡°I apologize. I must have misspoken. I didn¡¯t get much sleep after traveling a long way.¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡±

    Walker, showing a peculiar reaction, extended his hand toward Hugo¡¯s secretary.

    ¡°Let me have that.¡±

    ¡°Y-Yes, sir!¡±

    Under his pressure, the secretary hurriedly handed over the evaluation score sheet she was holding.

    Hugo¡¯s piercing re, practically murderous, was palpable, but she had no choice.

    ¡°Hmm.¡±

    As Walker carefully scanned the evaluation sheet, his expression darkened.

    ¡°I¡¯m seeing scores that make no sense. Care to exin?¡±

    ¡°Well, considering it¡¯s the first of its kind in the world, I judged it more stringently.¡±

    Hugo replied smoothly, his survival instincts on high alert.

    He knew his position was at stake.

    ¡°Stringently, you say? That¡¯s fair. But I can¡¯t fathom how the Zephyr-001 scored 3.6 out of 10 in the safety category. What¡¯s the criteria for this score?¡±

    ¡°Well, um...¡±

    Hugo gulped and scrambled for a usible exnation.

    ¡°Most drivers of the Zephyr-001 would be ordinary individuals. Unlike someone like yourself, Chief Inspector, whose reflexes and situational judgment in emergencies are exceptional, the average person is slower. Without real data from ordinary users, I had no choice but to assign a low score.¡±

    It was an improvised excuse, but it sounded airtight, even to Hugo himself.

    ¡°Then let¡¯s start gathering that data right now.¡±

    ¡°Of course, that was the n. We¡¯d need to recruit some ordinary drivers and...¡±

    ¡°Unfortunately, I don¡¯t have the luxury of time.¡±

    Hugo gave an ingratiating smile and nodded.

    ¡°Ah, of course, sir. I understand how busy you are. If you¡¯d like, you can leave now, and I¡¯ll stay here to collect data from ordinary drivers and reevaluate the scores.¡±

    ¡°No need to drag this out unnecessarily. Let¡¯s test it now.¡±

    ¡°Pardon? But we¡¯d still need to bring in a driver.¡±

    ¡°You can drive it yourself. After all, we need data from ordinary people.¡±

    ¡°...Excuse me?¡±

    It was at that moment Hugo felt something was terribly wrong.

    Forcing an awkward smile, he nced at his secretary behind him.

    ¡°Haha, you¡¯re joking, of course. If necessary, I could have my secretary¡ª¡±

    ¡°No, your secretary seems to have some magic training, doesn¡¯t she?¡±

    ¡°Well... She¡¯s not particrly talented, but she¡¯s a Level 2 mage.¡±

    At that, Hugo jumped in.

    ¡°She¡¯s barely a mage¡ª¡±

    ¡°That won¡¯t do. We need someone who isn¡¯t a knight or a mage, just an ordinary person. Unfortunately, it seems you¡¯re the only one here who fits that description.¡±

    Hugo nced around desperately. P

    redictably, all he saw around the outdoor training grounds were mages from the White Tower.

    Just as he was formting another excuse, whoosh!

    His vision abruptly narrowed.

    ¡°Now that you¡¯ve got the helmet on, hop on.¡±

    ¡°C-Chief Inspector Walker, I¡¯m really not athletic. I¡¯m a total klutz!¡±

    ¡°Even better. You¡¯re exactly the type of driver we need.¡±

    Despite Hugo¡¯s resistance, Walker effortlessly lifted him and ced him on the bike.

    Pressing the lift button, Walker said calmly.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry too much. I¡¯ve checked, and the safety of this device is excellent.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    Hovering far above the ground, Hugo finally descended after a thorough test of the machine¡¯s performance.

    ¡°See? That¡¯s why experience matters. The results lookpletely different after firsthand testing.¡±

    Walker chuckled, ncing at the newly revised evaluation sheet, now nearly perfect in every category.

    Hugo, looking like a broken man as he leaned on his secretary for support, nodded weakly.

    ¡°Yes... Exactly... So, could you let me down now?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re already on the ground... You¡¯re not in great shape. Get him to a vehicle.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir!¡±

    As the secretary supported Hugo back to the car, Oscar approached Walker.

    ¡°Thank you for your help. I didn¡¯t expect you to actuallye.¡±

    ¡°I only came because I judged there was nothing to lose.¡±

    Walker¡¯s reply was curt.

    ¡°If your reason for calling me had been selfish, you¡¯d never see me again. If not, then it means you truly needed me. I came to discern that.¡±

    ¡°Regardless of the reason, I appreciate your help.¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡±

    Turning his gaze to the Zephyr-001, Walkermented.

    ¡°It¡¯s well-made. But...¡±

    His sharp eyes locked on Oscar.

    ¡°I felt an odd sense of restraint while operating it. Almost as if it wasn¡¯t reaching its full potential. Was that just my imagination?¡±

    ¡°...I feel a bit uneasy. If you have time, how about taking a short walk?¡±

    At that, Walker nodded, gesturing lightly behind him.

    Several magical presences quietly receded.

    "Knights of the Public Security Bureau, are they?"

    Most likely the ones who followed Walker like shadows.

    Oscar led him into the forest of the White Tower.

    ¡°This is one of my favorite walking paths. It¡¯s quiet and secluded, perfect for thinking or having a conversation.¡±

    ¡°Not bad.¡±

    The sunlight filtering through the leaves illuminated the forest gently.

    The cool breeze and serene forest path made it ideal for a stroll.

    ¡°Well, go on. Speak.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right.¡±

    ¡°¡­What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Zephyr-001 is performing at less than half, no, less than a quarter of its true capability. You observed it urately.¡±

    Walker stopped in his tracks, looking at him.

    His widened eyes revealed his surprise and a mind racing to grasp the implications.

    ¡°No deeper meaning. It¡¯s simply for our protection.¡±

    ¡°Protection, I see.¡±

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    Even this time, an official from the Yellow Tower hade seeking them.

    ¡°Incidentally, there will be an investigation regarding this. If evidence arises that the Yellow Tower offeredpensation, they¡¯ll be dismissed.¡±

    ¡°Oh dear, they''ll be busy finding a new job.¡±

    Walkerughed, a subdued chuckle, as though amused by Oscar¡¯s reply that hinted at certainty.

    ¡°Kuk, amusing. So, you¡¯re telling me this because you see me as entirely loyal to His Majesty?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s correct. You¡¯re renowned throughout the Empire as a remarkable loyalist, after all.¡±

    ¡°Then you must also know that our conversation today will undoubtedly reach His Majesty¡¯s ears.¡±

    Oscar smiled quietly.

    That was precisely what he intended.

    ¡°You¡­¡±

    Seeing Oscar¡¯s reaction, Walker squinted, letting out a helplessugh.

    ¡°You¡¯re using me as a messenger.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. Depending on how you see it, you could say that.¡±

    ¡°¡­Ha.¡±

    His Majesty had once personally participated in the ¡°Sky¡± project, so his interest in aviation was deep.

    If Walker reported seeing Zephyr-001, His Majesty would naturally ask for details and every event that transpired there.

    Walker, realizing he¡¯d been yed, shook his head with a resigned expression.

    ¡°No one else would dare use the Chief Inspector of the Public Security Bureau like this.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand what you mean.¡±

    ¡°Enough with the act. Just say what you want to say. Isn¡¯t that why you brought me to this quiet ce?¡±

    ¡°Understood.¡±

    With a faint smile, Oscar shrugged his shoulders.

    ¡°Our White Tower is building an airship.¡±

    ¡°¡­!¡±

    At that bombshell revtion, Walker stopped in his tracks again, staring at Oscar with widened eyes evenrger than before.

    ¡°What did you just say?¡±

    ¡°An airship.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s impossible. That was a project attempted by the Yellow Tower after the war¡­¡±

    ¡°They wouldn¡¯t be able to do it.¡±

    Walking with his hands behind his back, Oscar paused and raised his right hand.

    ¡°Because they don¡¯t have this.¡±

    With those words, a magic circle formed before him.

    A serpent biting its own tail, symbolizing eternal cycles.

    The magic circle exuded a constant flow of wind.

    ¡°¡­Ouroboros.¡±

    Walker murmured as he recognized the magic.

    Though he had read about it in books, he¡¯d never seen it before.

    But as soon as he witnessed it, he instinctively understood.

    There couldn¡¯t possibly be two such spells in the world.

    ¡°That¡¯s right. It¡¯s the only magic that can serve as the heart of an airship, created by thete Oscar Sage.¡±

    ¡°¡­Did you restore this?¡±

    Oscar quickly rified to prevent any misunderstanding.

    ¡°Of course not. Elder Schwein dedicated over seven years to restoring this magic. I merely helped with some minor tasks towards the end.¡±

    ¡°I see¡­¡±

    ¡°We¡¯vebined magic engineering with Ouroboros to create an unprecedented engine. Zephyr-001 is the result you saw earlier.¡±

    ¡°So its maximum altitude and operating time are all lies.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. But to reveal this truth, we need to either grow stronger or secure a solid shield. One of the two.¡±

    Walker finally understood Oscar¡¯s intent, his expression hardening.

    ¡°¡­You dare suggest that the sun of this continent be your shield?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m merely making a request. His Majesty will decide whether to ept or not. If he refuses, we¡¯ll quietly wait until we¡¯re strong enough on our own.¡±

    ¡°¡­.¡±

    After staring at Oscar for a moment, Walker let out a faint sigh.

    ¡°Talking to someone so much younger feels like I¡¯m constantly being outmaneuvered.¡±

    ¡®I was ten when you were not even born.¡¯

    Oscar smiled softly.

    ¡°I hope good news reaches us.¡±

    * * *

    The Imperial Throne Room of the Calderan Empire.

    The grand hall, with its blend of pure white marble and gold, exuded a sense of divinity.

    ¡°I pay my respects to His Majesty the Emperor.¡±

    Walker, Chief Inspector, walked across the crimson carpet, kneeling at the base of the stairs with his head bowed.

    ¡°¡­.¡±

    Atop the stairs sat an old man on a throne.

    Despite his aged and emaciated frame, his sharp gaze radiated amanding presence.

    He was none other than Ludwig de Calderan, ruler of the vast Empire.

    ¡°Unexpected. I thought you had no interest in such matters, yet you visited the White Tower yourself.¡±

    ¡°I was asked to.¡±

    ¡°That, too, is unexpected.¡±

    Walker was not one to act simply because he was asked.

    ¡°So, what¡¯s your impression after seeing it for yourself?¡±

    ¡°¡­.¡±

    Carefully choosing his words, Walker slowly raised his head.

    Looking into the eyes of the continent¡¯s ruler, who gazed at him with favor, he finally spoke.

    ¡°Soon, the Azure Sky will open once more.¡±

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 Chapter 89

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    Chapter 89: The Graveyard of the Dead (1)

    Not long after, the Deputy Tower Master summoned him.

    Oscar hurried to his room and widened his eyes in surprise.

    Because there was Hamel, the Deputy Tower Master, kneeling on one knee.

    ¡®No way¡­¡¯

    As the thought fleetingly crossed his mind, a stranger standing in the room spoke.

    "Mage Oscar Crucian, pay your respects to His Majesty the Emperor."

    Oscar quickly dropped to one knee, the hem of his white robe fluttering.

    Of course, there was no way the busy Emperor himself woulde here personally.

    Instead, his gaze turned to the ornate object held by the imperial official.

    A decree.

    It was a letter the Emperor used to convey his opinions directly to someone.

    Upon hearing its contents, one had to adopt a reverent posture, as if meeting the Emperor in person.

    After ensuring both men were prepared, the official began to read the letter.

    "The Empire grants exclusive patents to the White Tower for flying vehicles developed by them, including the Zephyr-001, and any future flying vehicles produced by the White Tower. Furthermore, the White Tower is also granted exclusive rights to issue relevant certifications for the next 30 years. His Majesty is greatly pleased by the advent of this technology and hopes it will continue to be honed for the benefit of the Empire."

    It was done.

    Oscar, bowing his head, clenched his fist tightly without realizing it.

    The solid backing he sought, even at the risk of revealing the existence of airship to Walker, had finally been secured.

    ¡®And not just any backing¡ªit¡¯s the strongest one across the entire continent.¡¯

    The Emperor himself supported and endorsed the venture.

    There could be no stronger statement of power than this.

    "In addition, His Majesty suggested that the official name for the Zephyr-001 be Cheonma (Sky Horse)."

    ¡°¡­¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­¡­¡±

    Sky Horse, though¡­

    Reading Oscar''s troubled expression, the official nodded.

    "I will exin it to His Majesty appropriately."

    "Yes, I would greatly appreciate that."

    ¡°Oh dear.¡±

    Rising slowly, Hamel, the Deputy Tower Master, chuckled and spoke to the official.

    "You must have traveled far from the capital. Won¡¯t you rest here for at least one night?"

    "No, thank you. I have mountains of work waiting for me, but I appreciate the offer."

    The official, bowing politely, carefully ced the decree down before leaving the room.

    The Deputy Tower Master, who had been gazing at the decree, turned his head toward Oscar.

    "I don¡¯t know the details, but it seems you¡¯ve done something again, Oscar."

    "Yes. I wasn¡¯t entirely confident, but it seems things worked out well."

    ¡°Whew¡­¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master let out a long sigh of relief.

    He sank into his chair, speaking candidly for the first time.

    "I couldn¡¯t say it before, but I was extremely worried. A sword in the hands of the weak always brings trouble."

    "That must have been the case."

    After all, with Sasha absent, Hamel was the one managing the White Tower.

    He must have spent many days gazing at the flying bikes zooming over the city with all kinds of concerns.

    Whether such technology was too advanced for the current White Tower, or whether it might invite disaster.

    "It should be fine now. No one would dare meddle in a project personally supported by His Majesty."

    "That¡¯s a relief indeed."

    With a satisfied smile, the Deputy Tower Master continued.

    "I hear you¡¯re nning to expand the Wind Tribe business soon. Is that correct?"n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om

    "Yes. We¡¯ve gathered enough data from Sirin. On top of that, there¡¯s been quite a mor from neighboring territories, asking when the service will be avable for them."

    The n was to gradually expand the service area, starting with territories near Sirin.

    That way, they could respond quickly in case of any issues.

    "At the same time, we¡¯ll be resuming our previous delivery services and restarting the nutritional supplement promotion."

    "That sounds excellent."

    The smile on the Deputy Tower Master¡¯s face didn¡¯t fade.

    "With the delivery business stabilizing, you¡¯ll have more free time now, won¡¯t you?"

    "Yes. I was actually thinking of starting Special Operations activities again."

    He had been too preupied with other matters to even properly start such activities until now.

    "Ah, in that case, I have a suitable mission you might want to take a look at."

    Hamel rummaged through a drawer and handed Oscar a document.

    "It¡¯s a four-hour ride from here, on the outskirts of Sirin. There¡¯s been an issue."

    "What kind of issue?"

    "They say the dead appear at night."

    The dead.

    That term could only mean one thing.

    "Undead, then."

    "Exactly. The vige chief reported that undead monsters appear in the cemetery every night, seeking aid."

    "Hmm."

    To be honest, it didn¡¯t seem like an issue requiring the White Tower¡¯s involvement.

    "And one more thing. ck Tower mages have reportedly been sighted near the vige."

    "¡­The ck Tower, you say."

    Oscar¡¯s gaze turned cold.

    Among the Four Great Towers, the one he disliked most was the Blue Tower.

    But the one he despised above all towers was the ck Tower.

    "Those scum are surely up to no good again."

    "Let¡¯s not jump to conclusions. The ck Tower has changed significantly since the war."

    ¡­They¡¯ve changed?

    Oscar struggled to suppress the sneer forming on his lips.

    ¡®Humans can barely change their own natures.¡¯

    Let alone the fundamental nature of a massive organization like a mage tower, changing in just 20 years?

    Oscar found such ims utterly unconvincing.

    "I¡¯ll assess the situation myself on-site."

    "¡­Very well. Are you going alone?"

    "No, I n to take Killian and Veronica with me, as it¡¯s an official Special Operations mission."

    While Fran was in closed training, those two had been idle.

    ¡®And more importantly¡­¡¯

    He had yet to see those two even hold a brief conversation.

    It was clear they didn¡¯t get along well.

    Improving the rtionship between the two of them was the secondary objective of this mission.

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    * * *

    Oscar looked at the two seated before him and began the briefing.

    ¡°Hendel, a mountain vige on the outskirts of Sirin. Undead monsters are said to appear in its cemetery every night. Moreover, ck Tower mages have been spotted near the vige. There¡¯s bound to be a connection. Our goal is to uncover the link between the undead and the ck Tower mages and resolve the situation.¡±

    ¡°Understood.¡±

    As usual, Killian responded with an expression impossible to read.

    Veronica, however, frowned, her doubts evident.

    ¡°Undead and the ck Tower connected? Really?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what the circumstances suggest. We¡¯ll have to investigate further to confirm.¡±

    ¡°But after the war, the ck Towerpletely abandoned necromancy and anything rted to the undead.¡±

    ¡°You never know. They might be secretly keeping that school of magic alive.¡±

    ¡°...If that¡¯s true, the imperial court wouldn¡¯t stay silent.¡±

    Veronica muttered as if unable toprehend the situation.

    ¡°There¡¯s no point in arguing amongst ourselves here. Let¡¯s get going.¡±

    ¡°And how are we getting there?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve arranged for a driver to make the journey smoother. Naturally, we¡¯ll be using my car.¡±

    Oscar was seriously considering hiring a driver on a long-term basis.

    Until now, his car had been gathering dust in the garage, making him feel it wasn¡¯t necessary.

    But with more field operations ahead, frequent travel seemed inevitable.

    ¡®A good driver... something to look intoter.¡¯

    At the front gate of the Magic Tower, his massive sedan was waiting.

    ¡°I¡¯ll sit in the front¡ª¡±

    As Veronica moved to sit in the passenger seat, Oscar stepped in front of her.

    ¡°Sorry, but you¡¯ll have to sit in the back. I need to think about a few things.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    He had deliberately ced the two in the backseat, hoping they¡¯d have some small talk during the ride.

    ¡­But that calction waspletely off.

    Even after three hours, the backseat was dead silent.

    ¡®Are these two asleep?¡¯

    Unable to contain his curiosity, he turned to check, only to find them staring out their respective windows.

    Seeing this, he decided to break the silence himself.

    ¡°Veronica, you seemed to be defending the ck Tower earlier. Do you know something about them?¡±

    ¡°...Not really. Just as much as anyone else.¡±

    Still gazing out the window, her chin propped on a fist, Veronica answered.

    ¡°The ck Tower was the first to approach me when I was in the orphanage.¡±

    ¡°What? How did they know about you?¡±

    ¡°Most orphanages funded by scraps of charity don¡¯t have much money. So, when the kids reach a certain age, they undergo aptitude tests. If they¡¯re lucky enough to show potential, the news is sent to magic towers or swordsmanship families, who might take them in. Outsiders often criticize this as exploiting children for profit, but it¡¯s actually beneficial for everyone involved. The children get a chance at a better life, and the orphanage reduces its burden and earns some funds.¡±

    ¡°...Is that really okay?¡±

    ¡°Hm? It¡¯s fine, really. I still exchange letters with the orphanage director asionally.¡±

    She spoke about what could have been a dark subject with surprisingposure.

    ¡°Anyway, the ck Tower took me in when I was young and showed me around various ces. Despite their bad reputation, they made an effort to demonstrate that they were working hard to improve and change their image. Looking back, my experience with the ck Tower wasn¡¯t bad at all.¡±

    ¡°Then how did you end up at the White Tower?¡±

    ¡°Because of the prestige of being one of the Four Great Towers. I thought it¡¯d make sess easier. Too pragmatic of a reason?¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s realistic.¡±

    He didn¡¯t me her for it.

    Everyone deserved a chance to make better choices for themselves.

    However, it seemed Killian didn¡¯t quite agree.

    He finally broke his silence with a single, blunt remark.

    ¡°It may have been a practical and smart choice, but by my standards, it was a decisioncking loyalty.¡±

    ¡°Loyalty? What do you even gain from that?¡±

    At her question, Killian nced at Veronica.

    ¡°...Even if it gives you nothing tangible, it strengthens and fortifies your soul.¡±

    ¡°So, ultimately, it¡¯s meaningless.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. You, who only value immediate gain, will never understand.¡±

    Wow, this was the first time he¡¯d seen these two actually have a conversation.

    Too bad it was an argument.

    Oscar sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

    ¡°Why are you two even fighting? Do you have some kind of issue with each other?¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say that. It¡¯s just that our personalities sh.¡±

    ¡°Hah, well said. Yeah, I think this brute and I don¡¯t get along.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    You two don¡¯t get along with anyone.

    Oscar barely managed to swallow that thought.

    Just then, the driver, who had been watching them nervously, cautiously spoke up.

    ¡°Um, mages. We¡¯ve arrived at our destination.¡±

    Looking out the window, Oscar confirmed the mountain vige ahead and nodded.

    ¡°Drop us off at the front gate.¡±

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 Chapter 90

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    Chapter 90: The Graveyard of the Dead (2)

    The vige of Hendel, bathed in the glow of the sunset, was remarkablyrge for a mountain settlement.

    Surrounded by 5-meter-high wooden walls, the vige housed dozens of quaint homes clustered together in harmony.

    In the open central square stood a small fountain, adding a sense of spaciousness to the vige.

    "It''s a nice vige. But..."

    Oscar observed the expressions of the vigers passing by.

    He couldn¡¯t sense the rxed, warm atmosphere typical of rural mountain folk.

    "Everyone looks as though they haven¡¯t slept in days."

    The likely cause of their unease was the undead said to appear at the graveyard every night.

    As Oscar surveyed his surroundings, an old ball rolled to his feet.

    "......"

    A young girl, no older than five, came running after it, ncing nervously at him.

    Kneeling on one knee to meet her eye level, Oscar gave her a gentle smile.

    "Is this your ball?"

    "Y-yes¡­"

    "The air''s all out of it."

    With a loud whoosh, the ball inted rapidly and floated back down in front of the girl¡¯s face.

    Watching the magical sight, the girl burst intoughter.

    ¡°Alice! I told you not to talk to strangers!¡±

    A woman, likely her mother, rushed over, grabbing the child¡¯s hand and hurriedly dragging her away.

    Veronica, witnessing the scene, grumbled.

    ¡°Seriously? Did we do something wrong? Why¡¯d she react like that?¡±

    "......Not sure. It seems they¡¯re particrly wary of mages."

    It was no surprise, considering the mother had turned pale after seeing him use magic.

    At that moment, a young man who had been observing the scene hesitantly approached them.

    ¡°Uh, are you perhaps mages from the White Tower?¡±

    ¡°Yes, we are. We¡¯re here to see Chief George of Hendel.¡±

    ¡°Oh! Oh, wonderful!¡±

    The man, looking relieved, quickly offered to guide them.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take you straight to the chief¡¯s house.¡±

    ¡°That would be helpful. Thank you.¡±

    As they followed him, Oscar asked a simple question.

    ¡°Do the vigers dislike mages in general?¡±

    ¡°Ah... I sincerely apologize for what just happened. Please, don¡¯t take offense¡­¡±

    ¡°No need to apologize. I¡¯m not offended. I was just curious.¡±

    After gauging Oscar¡¯s sincerity, the young man nodded.

    ¡°Yes, well... the atmosphere in the vige wasn¡¯t like this untilst week. Things have been unsettledtely. Do you know what¡¯s been happening here?¡±

    ¡°I heard that undead are appearing in the graveyard at night.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. That¡¯s why everyone¡¯s on edge. Fights have been breaking out more frequently.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t umon.

    To the vigers, undead weren¡¯t just trivial monsters¡ªthey were a source of tremendous fear.

    After knocking on the door of arge house, the young man announced,

    ¡°Chief, the guests from the White Tower have arrived.¡±

    Amid themotion from inside, the door swung open.

    ¡°Oh, wee!¡±

    An elderly man with white hair greeted them warmly and ushered them in.

    ¡°Come in, have a seat. Let me see... What can I offer you? Ah! I have some herbal tea that¡¯s good for the body.¡±

    Rather than refuse, they waited patiently.

    Soon, the chief returned with a steaming pot of tea.

    ¡°Thank you for the hospitality.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure if city folk will like it.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s wonderful. Feels like it¡¯s rejuvenating my body.¡±

    Smiling faintly, Oscar set down his teacup and introduced himself.

    Once the pleasantries were done, he got straight to the point.

    ¡°I hope it¡¯s not rude to bring this up right away, but I¡¯d like to hear about the undead situation in detail.¡±

    ¡°Oh, not at all! It¡¯s a relief that you¡¯re here.¡±

    Chief George eagerly began exining.

    ¡°The first time those creatures crawled out of the ground was exactly nine days ago.¡±

    ¡°What exactly are they?¡±

    ¡°Skeletons.¡±

    Skeletons.

    Among the undead, they were ssified as the weakest.

    While some could grow stronger over time, nine days wasn¡¯t long enough for that.

    ¡°How strong are they?¡±

    ¡°Our guards have managed to defeat them several times, but they keep getting back up after a short while.¡±

    That was the terrifying part of the undead.

    Without destroying their core with precise mana, they would continually resurrect¡ªtrue to their name, undead.

    Listening quietly, Killian asked his first question.

    ¡°Was there anything unusual before the undead began appearing? Like a viger performing a suspicious ritual to see a loved one or someone buying a magical scroll?¡±

    ¡°I can assure you, no such thing happened. None of the vigers have left recently, and the merchants whoe by don¡¯t deal in such items.¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡±

    Killian nced at Oscar, who nodded knowingly.

    ¡°There¡¯s no lie in that.¡±

    He exined further,

    ¡°The reason I ask is that the emergence of undead usually falls into two categories.¡±

    Raising a finger, Oscar began counting.

    ¡°The first is natural urrence. You¡¯ve probably heard of spirits with unresolved grudges defying the natural order to appear in this world.¡±

    ¡°But... as far as I know, no one in our vige died with such a tremendous grudge.¡±

    ¡°That makes the second case more likely.¡±

    Oscar¡¯s expression turned grim.

    ¡°Necromancy.¡±

    ¡°Are you saying a mage is responsible for this?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a possibility. We¡¯ll need to investigate further to know for sure.¡±

    He then asked the chief,

    ¡°By the way, I heard rumors that mages from the ck Tower have been spotted nearby. Is that true?¡±

    ¡°Yes, it is. They showed up about a week ago and are staying at the vige inn.¡±

    ¡°Do you know why they¡¯re here?¡±

    ¡°...No, we don¡¯t. They have such an intimidating aura that no one dares to ask.¡±

    ¡°Hm.¡±

    Oscar fell into thought.

    The undead appearing nightly were merely skeletons¡ªthe lowest of the low.

    ¡®Would the ck Tower reallye all this way just to mess around with such trivial monsters?¡¯

    Moreover, it was impossible for them to be unaware that this vigey within the territory of the White Tower.

    They wouldn¡¯t have made an unnecessary visit without some purpose.

    "Is there any chance there are hidden underground resources or a mine near the vige?"

    "Huh? No, nothing like that."

    "Then what about historical ruins?"

    "None of those either¡­"

    Was it another dead end?

    If so, then what was it?

    Why were the ck Tower people snooping around here?

    Unable to resolve his doubts, Oscar slowly nodded.

    "Understood. Starting tonight, I¡¯ll head to the cemetery to begin the investigation."

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    "Oh, thank you! The lodging prepared for you is the house with the blue roof, just to the right of mine."

    "We¡¯re the ones who should be grateful for your hospitality."

    As soon as they stepped out of the vige chief''s house, the sharp-eyed Veronica asked,

    "Still suspecting the ck Tower, aren¡¯t you?"

    "Yes. They remain the most likely suspects. After all, they¡¯re staying at the inn here."

    "Isn¡¯t it strange? If they were really the culprits, would they show themselves so openly like this?"

    "That¡¯s¡­"

    He wasn¡¯t sure.

    After all, they were audacious enough to do just that.

    Oscar swallowed his retort and began walking.

    "Oscar. It¡¯s not that way. He clearly said the blue-roofed house to the right."

    "I know. But before going to the lodging, let¡¯s grab something to eat."

    With that, he entered the inn where the ck Tower mages were reportedly staying.

    * * *

    "Here is your order: steak, potato sd, and mushroom soup."n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

    The first floor of the inn was naturally a tavern and dining area.

    The three ordered meals suited to their tastes, but unfortunately, there was no sign of the ck Tower mages.

    "They¡¯re not here."

    "It¡¯s a bit early for dinner, so that¡¯s probably why."

    "Steak is always the right choice."

    Oscar nibbled at his soup while ncing repeatedly toward the staircase.

    You never knew when they mighte down.

    Watching him while eating her sd, Veronica voiced her curiosity.

    "Have you fought the ck Tower mages before?"

    "¡­No, why do you ask?"

    "Because you seem especially hostile toward them."

    Hostile, huh?

    Oscar gave a bitter smile.

    Had twenty years dulled even the enormity of the ck Tower¡¯s crimes?

    "Given the necromancy angle, I think it¡¯s reasonable to suspect the ck Tower."

    "That¡¯s ancient history. Everything¡¯s changed since the war."

    "Speaking of, let me ask you something."

    Oscar wiped his mouth with a handkerchief and continued,

    "What exactly has changed? I mean,pared to before the war."

    "Well, for starters, you know the ck Tower got a lot of hate during the war, right?"

    "Of course."

    The reason was simple.

    "The 13th Tower Master of the ck Tower, Silgrim Fonerth."

    The most infamous traitor in history, who betrayed humanity and sided with the demons.

    He turned 1,900rades who trusted and followed him into corpses, then crossed the Red Mountains that very night.

    Calling it a single act of betrayal didn¡¯t do justice to the catastrophic damage he inflicted on humanity.

    An entire frontline was wiped out, and it took four months to recover from the demon forces that surged in through the gap.

    "Right. The ck Tower paid for producing that abominable man by being effectively dismembered after the war."

    "Dismembered, how?"

    "The royal family ouwed necromancy under nationalw."

    Veronica spoke while chewing on her potato sd.

    "There¡¯s one exception, though. If the royal family grants special approval, it¡¯s allowed."

    "¡­That approval must be almost impossible to get."

    "Exactly. But even so, the ck Tower¡¯s necromancy faction hasn¡¯tpletely disappeared."

    "What?"

    Oscar frowned.

    How could the faction survive if necromancy was forbidden?

    "They use golems now."

    "Golems?"

    "Yes. The ck Tower is a leader in the iron and steel industry. They craft mechanical golems from their unique advanced alloys. Since they can¡¯t use corpses, they rely on golems."

    Necromancy without corpses.

    Wasn¡¯t that like the White Tower without magic?

    Oscar let out a dryugh.

    "That does sound like being dismembered."

    "Like I said, they had no choice but to adapt, whether willingly or not."

    One thing became clear.

    The royal family clearly despised and rejected the ck Tower.

    Probably because they had firsthand experience with its power and danger during the war.

    ¡®Which means that even in this crippled state, they¡¯re still aplishing that much.¡¯

    As far as Oscar knew, the ck Tower ranked fourth in overall achievements among the towers.

    In other words, if not for the White Tower, they could have been one of the Four Great Towers.

    ¡®I didn¡¯t realize they were doing this well¡­¡¯

    At that moment, a creaking sound came from the staircase leading to the second floor.

    Simultaneously.

    "¡­"

    "¡­"

    Oscar locked eyes with a group of individuals d in ck robes.

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 Chapter 91

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    Chapter 91: The Graveyard of the Dead (3)

    The atmosphere in the tavern grew heavy in an instant.

    The lively chatter characteristic of the pub died down, leaving only the clinking of utensils.

    The mere act of descending the stairs was enough for the ck Tower mages to exude an overwhelming presence.

    Oscar gazed at them unfazed.

    ¡®Three.¡¯

    One woman at level 5, and two men at level 4.

    Among them, the woman who appeared to be the leader did not avoid his gaze.

    ¡°......¡±

    ¡°......¡±

    Her jet-ck hair, like a melted night sky, reached down to her waist, with bangs cut evenly just above her eyebrows.

    Even the side strands dangling near her jawline were trimmed straight, making her small face appear even smaller.

    At that moment, as she shifted her gaze, she red at Veronica.

    Noticing this, one of the men behind her muttered quietly.

    "Kiri, they¡¯re mages from the White Tower. And not just any..."

    "¡­You don¡¯t need to tell me. I¡¯ve got eyes."

    "There¡¯s no benefit in shing with them now. Think of our mission."

    The woman called Kiri nodded slowly at his words and headed to a corner seat in the tavern.

    Soon after, the tense atmosphere that had built up began to dissipate, reced by the usual boisterous noise.

    Chomp, chomp.

    Meanwhile, Killian, who was enthusiastically devouring his steak, spoke up.

    "Oscar, can I have another te? This ce is great."

    "Go ahead."

    "This time, I¡¯ll try the tenderloin."

    As Killian ced an additional order, Oscar turned to Veronica.

    "That woman seemed to recognize you. Do you know her?"

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s not like we¡¯re strangers.¡±

    Veronica spoke with a slight hint of difort.

    "I told you on the way, didn¡¯t I? That I visited the ck Tower on a field trip when I was a kid."

    "You did."

    "Back then, there was someone who joined me for the program. We got pretty close in just five days and even talked about working together to change the ck Tower."

    "Don¡¯t tell me..."

    "You¡¯re thinking it right. That¡¯s Kiri Gloria¡ªher."

    What a coincidence.

    Oscar let out a faintugh.

    "Is that why she seems to hate you?"

    "¡­Probably? After all, I decided to join the White Tower in the end."

    A betrayal of a friend with whom one had promised to rebuild the Magic Towers.

    If they were young, it could indeed have been a significant shock.

    ¡°She seemed to be a level 5 mage.¡±

    "Yes, a genius. The ck Tower''s rapid growth owes a lot to her contributions."

    A level 5 mage at such a young ageparable to Oscar¡¯s past life talents.

    Curious, Oscar asked.

    "There aren¡¯t more like her around our age, are there?"

    "Oh, there are. From what I know, at least three more."

    Three more.

    Oscar didn¡¯t bother asking where they were from.

    It was obvious they¡¯d belong to one of the four major Magic Towers, excluding the White Tower.

    "...But it¡¯s strange."

    "What is?"

    "She¡¯s a level 5 mid-tier mage and a significant figure within the ck Tower. By rights, she should only be assigned to crucial missions. So why is she here, in a rural area?"

    Simr to himself.

    If one has exceptional abilities, nothing is impossible¡ªespecially in an emerging ck Tower.

    ¡®If someone of her stature is directly involved, it must be¡­.¡¯

    Clearly, they were here for something important.

    Narrowing his eyes, Oscar began drawing upon his magic¡ªsubtly and faintly enough that no one in the tavern would notice.

    ¡®No sound ising through¡­¡¯

    It was because a remarkably well-crafted Silence spell enveloped them.

    Undoubtedly the work of Kiri Gloria herself.

    ¡®But there¡¯s a way around that.¡¯

    Oscar mimicked her magical code and created a small breach in the Silence.

    The gap was barelyrge enough for a needle to pass through.

    Although he wanted to make itrger, that would risk detection.

    ¡®Especially since she¡¯s a genius, caution won¡¯t hurt.¡¯

    The more sensitive one is to mana, the more they¡¯d notice such infiltration.

    Through the gap he¡¯d created, fragments of their conversation began to filter in.

    White Tower¡­ noticed¡­ must hurry¡­

    Resurrection of the predecessor¡­ ritual¡­

    Divine¡­ Veronica¡­ the other one¡­ noble¡­

    Wait.

    At that moment, the woman abruptly cut off their conversation and stood up, casting a sharp nce toward his direction.

    Oscar instinctively ceased his magic, but she continued to stare at him for a long while.

    Chomp, chomp.

    Killian, finishing his second te of steak,mented.

    ¡°Oscar, she¡¯s ring at you pretty hard.¡±

    "Did you do something?"

    "What could I have done?"

    Oscar replied nonchntly and rose from his seat.

    "Let¡¯s head back to the inn. It seems¡­"

    Meeting Kiri¡¯s gaze, he finished his sentence.

    "Tonight¡¯s going to be a long one."

    * * *

    Back at the inn, Oscar gathered his thoughts.

    ¡®There¡¯s definitely something going on.¡¯

    They were clearly paying attention to his group.

    If they weren¡¯t up to something shady, they wouldn¡¯t care.

    The mention of resurrection and rituals, in particr, left a bad taste.

    After all, those brought back by such means were rarely benign.

    ¡®¡­If.¡¯

    If the young mages of the ck Tower were plotting something heinous again¡ª

    ¡°......¡±

    Oscar¡¯s eyes grew cold for a moment.

    He might have to stain his hands with a mage¡¯s blood tonight.

    "Shall we head out?"

    "It¡¯s almost midnight. That¡¯s when they¡¯re supposed to appear."

    Called by Veronica and Killian, the three left the inn and headed toward the graveyard outside the vige.

    After about a 20-minute walk, they arrived.

    "There¡¯s definitely something here."

    The eerie energy was palpable, even on their skin.

    At this level, it wouldn¡¯t be surprising if a powerful undead emerged.

    Sensing the same, Killian and Veronica¡¯s expressions turned serious.

    "They¡¯re moving."

    As they stepped into the graveyard, crack!

    A skeleton burst from the ground, grabbing Oscar¡¯s ankle.

    Just as Killian rushed to kick it away¡ª

    "Wind Bullet."

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    Whizz!

    A st of wind magic pierced the skeleton¡¯s skull.

    Its shattered remains crumbled instantly.

    ¡°Killian, search the forest around the graveyard. Veronica, patrol the perimeter and take out any skeletons heading toward the vige.¡±

    ¡°Understood.¡±

    ¡°¡­I don¡¯t like being ordered, but fine.¡±

    As the two moved off, Oscar leisurely strolled through the graveyard.

    asionally, skeletons lunged at him from the ground, but they were destroyed before fully emerging.

    ¡°¡­¡­¡±

    By the time he¡¯d circled the graveyard, Oscar had eliminated twelve skeletons.

    Though a significant number for a small rural vige, he wasn¡¯t satisfied.

    ¡®This can¡¯t be all.¡¯

    The ominous energy prickling his skin remained.

    Its source was undoubtedly beneath the graveyard.

    ¡®Does that mean¡­?¡¯

    Could there be a dungeon below?

    As he stared at the ground, lost in thought, Veronica returned.

    ¡°I got them all. Five of them were heading toward the vige.¡±

    ¡°Good work.¡±

    Kilian, who followed behind, wore apletely different expression than usual¡ªone that seemed anxious.

    ¡°Oscar, I found something¡­ and it¡¯s likely¡­¡±

    ¡°A dungeon, right?¡±

    Kilian¡¯s eyes widened in shock as he asked,

    ¡°How did you know?¡±

    ¡°The level of the undead doesn¡¯t match the ominous aura we¡¯re sensing. Plus, these creatures weren¡¯t naturally formed from lingering grudges.¡±

    Oscar nced down and continued,

    ¡°They¡¯re skeletons, artificially created by the intense energy leaking from beneath the ground.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s go. To the dungeon entrance.¡±

    ¡°...Are you sure about this?¡±

    Kilian cast a sidelong nce at Veronica, who immediately frowned, knowing exactly what his look meant.

    ¡°Hey, if you¡¯ve got something to say, spit it out. Don¡¯t dance around it.¡±

    ¡°If you insist. Oscar, we don¡¯t know what dangers await in the dungeon. Bringing someone who doesn¡¯t understand loyalty increases the risk severalfold. It might be better if just the two of us go.¡±

    ¡°This guy¡­!¡±

    Before they could start bickering, Oscar stepped in.

    ¡°Enough.¡±

    Interrupting just in time, he turned to Kilian.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you think of Veronica, but she¡¯s not the type to betray herrades just to save herself in a crisis.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    ¡°And more importantly, she¡¯s as much myrade as you are.¡±

    At this, Kilian nodded slowly.

    ¡°If that¡¯s what you believe, I won¡¯t say more. And¡­ woman.¡±

    ¡°My name is Veronica Fricks, not ¡®woman.¡¯¡±

    ¡°Right. Veronica Fricks. If I offended you, I apologize.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    Veronica clicked her tongue lightly and looked away.

    Oscar knew she wasn¡¯t rejecting the apology, just that she had nothing else to say.

    ¡®Well, considering how much of a lone wolf she¡¯s been, it¡¯s not surprising Kilian thinks that way.¡¯

    ¡°All right, if we¡¯re done here, let¡¯s move out.¡±

    Sensing the aura growing stronger, he murmured,

    ¡°We can¡¯t afford to waste any more time.¡±

    * * *

    ¡°This way!¡±

    The dungeon entrance Kilian had discovered was quite far, impressive given the short time it took him to locate it.

    ¡°I found it because of the distinct, alien energy emanating from the forest.¡±

    ¡°Well done, warrior of the forest.¡±

    The stone door, now open, was covered in vines and moss.

    Had it not already been ajar, they might have passed it by without realizing it was a door.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

    Leading the group, Oscar walked down the dungeon corridor, his face growing more serious.

    ¡®Too quiet.¡¯

    Most dungeons were filled with monsters and traps, but this one had neither.

    ¡®Not even signs of battle.¡¯

    ¡°Kilian, was there anything unusual when you opened that door?¡±

    ¡°Hm? I didn¡¯t open it.¡±

    Kilian shook his head.

    ¡°The door was already open when I got here.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    Oscar¡¯s expression hardened instantly.

    Why was this idiot saying that now?

    ¡°Damn it! Run!¡±n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om

    The ominous aura grew stronger by the second, now apanied by a ghostly wail that could paralyze an ordinary person.

    When they reached the end of the corridor, a massive chamber unfolded before them.

    ¡®A coffin?¡¯

    At the centery a massive coffin bound tightly by glowing magical chains.

    Surrounding it were familiar faces.

    ¡®ck Tower mages¡­¡¯

    The mages stood in a triangr formation around the coffin, chanting spells and scattering magical energy.

    ¡°Kilian, take the man on the left! Veronica, handle the one on the right! We have to stop the resurrection ritual!¡±

    ¡°Got it!¡±

    ¡°Understood!¡±

    As they leaped into action, Oscar charged toward the woman radiating the strongest magic¡ªKiri Gloria.

    ¡°You ck Tower scum¡­ I don¡¯t know what scheme you¡¯re up to this time, but¡ª¡±

    Swish!

    His Wind Cutter spell tore through Kiri¡¯s sleeve, forcing her to break her incantation and dodge.

    Her face twisted in fury.

    ¡°You fool¡­ Do you even know what you¡¯re doing?¡±

    ¡°Did you think I¡¯d just let youplete your resurrection ritual?¡±

    ¡°Resurrection ritual? What nonsense are you¡ª¡±

    Before she could finish, the coffin¡¯s lid began to creak open, releasing a plume of ck smoke as the magical chains snapped like threads.

    ¡°This can¡¯t be¡­¡±

    Kiri Gloria¡¯s eyes filled with dread as, with a thunderous crash, the coffin lid flew into the air and embedded itself in the ground.

    From within, a long-dormant being slowly rose to its feet.

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 Chapter 92

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    Chapter 92: The Graveyard of the Dead (4)

    -...Ah.

    The skeleton, which had risen from its coffin, let out a faint voice.

    It sounded like the strained voice of someone who had just woken up from a long sleep.

    At that moment, the six mages felt their insides churn.

    ¡®What a hideous...!¡¯

    Even Oscar had to summon his magic just to withstand it.

    The voice was like a concentrated manifestation of a deep, abyssal malice.

    Just hearing it was enough to twist their magic circuits and souls.

    ¡°Urgh!¡±

    ¡°Gah¡­!¡±

    Two 4th-level mages of the ck Tower and Veronica coughed up blood, writhing in pain.

    Even Killian, though he hid it well, wiped away the blood trickling from his mouth with his gloved hand.

    ¡°...A lich.¡±

    Oscar let out a groan as he looked at the figure rising from the coffin.

    A lich refers to a mage who has turned themselves into an undead to gain immortality.

    Needless to say, such forbidden knowledge isn¡¯t taught anywhere, leaving self-study as the only option.

    This means only a mage of at least 6th level could even attempt such a feat.

    -...What a shame.

    The lich''s voice wasced with deep regret.

    Its head turned slowly toward Kiri Gloria.

    -If it hadn¡¯t been for the interference of these wretches, I could have be a perfect being.

    ¡°Interference?¡±

    Oscar muttered, and Kiri, ring at the lich, bit her lower lip hard.

    ¡°You ruined everything. I could have sealed it forever¡­¡±

    Oscar wanted to ask what she meant, but there was no time for such questions.

    -I find this displeasing.

    The lich slowly raised its hand as it stared at them.

    -Not only do you dare to disturb the sleep of a god, but you have the audacity to stand before me with your heads held high.

    With a slight movement of its finger.

    -Kneel!

    Thud!

    An overwhelming force of mana bore down on their shoulders.

    ¡°Argh!¡±

    ¡°Damn it¡­¡±

    Everyone resisted with all their might to avoid kneeling, but one by one, they crashed to their knees on the stone floor.

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    In the end, only two people remained standing: Killian and Veronica.

    -How baffling.

    The lich tilted its head as it observed them.

    -It is only natural to kneel before the strong. Is that so difficult toprehend?

    ¡°¡­You are not strong.¡±

    Despite trembling all over with arms crossed, Killian managed to speak.

    ¡°To be strong, one needs exceptional talent and grueling effort. Sleepingzily for centuries like a coward won¡¯t make you strong.¡±

    ¡°Heh, that¡¯s the most reasonable thing you¡¯ve said yet.¡±

    Veronica grinned, her lips stretching into a wide smirk.

    ¡°It¡¯s not that we¡¯re afraid of kneeling. We just hate the filthy, miserable feeling of having our pride shattered in the process and the humiliation of standing up again afterward. No one canpensate for that.¡±

    -¡­

    The red glow in the lich¡¯s skull dimmed.

    -Foolish. Hastening your death over mere pride. But if that is what you wish¡­

    The lich¡¯s finger moved horizontally.

    -As a god who has ascended to this position, I must grant your request.

    Sensing an ominous killing intent, Oscar shouted,

    ¡°Everyone, get down!¡±

    Immediately, a beam of magic shot out like aser.

    It sliced through the air, cutting everything above waist level.

    ¡°...What terrifying destructive power.¡±

    ¡°Phew, we almost died.¡±

    Killian and Veronica let out sighs of relief as they looked at the long line carved into the wall behind them.

    Had they not hit the floor, their upper bodies would have been cleanly separated from their lower halves.

    ¡°Oscar, what now?¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t possibly beat that thing¡­ so, we¡¯ll have to run, right?¡±

    ¡°For now¡­¡±

    Oscar looked at the lich, who was now fully rising from the coffin.

    It was furious that its attack had missed.

    -To think you would dare evade divine judgment! Very well. Let¡¯s see if you can evade this as well!

    Oscar praised the two of them.

    ¡°You did well.¡±

    Of course, Oscar could have resisted kneeling if he wanted to.

    But he had chosen to kneel first for one reason:

    To ce his hands on the cold stone floor and prepare his magic.

    -Die! Foolish mortals who dare challenge divine majesty¡­

    As the lich extended its hand again,

    Crack!

    A deep fissure formed from where Oscar¡¯s hand touched the floor, racing toward the lich¡¯s coffin.

    Then, rumble!

    The ground copsed, and the coffin, along with the lich, plummeted below.

    -Mortaaals¡­!

    As the lich¡¯s voice faded, Oscar sighed in relief and stood up.

    Killian, following suit, stared at the massive hole and asked,

    ¡°Is it dead?¡±

    ¡°No way. That was just a stalling tactic.¡±

    ¡°It seemed like a pretty long drop.¡±

    ¡°Not that long. This dungeon has multiple floors.¡±

    Oscar had activated two spells simultaneously when he knelt.

    One was ¡ºScan¡», and the other was ¡ºMagic Explosion¡», which sent the self-proimed god tumbling below.

    ¡°At first, I thought of finding the lich¡¯s phctery¡ªits soul vessel. Destroying that would end everything.¡±

    Finding the vessel is the first and most crucial step in dealing with a lich.

    Without destroying it, the lich remains immortal.

    ¡°So, did you find it?¡±

    ¡°No, it wasn¡¯t here.¡±

    Oscar shook his head, and Veronica muttered,

    ¡°Then it must be hidden somewhere below?¡±

    ¡°Oh, did I confuse you? The vessel isn¡¯t anywhere in this dungeon.¡±

    ¡°What? How can you¡­ Wait, don¡¯t tell me¡­¡±

    ¡°Yep. I scanned all five floors of this dungeon.¡±

    Everyone froze, stunned by the sheer absurdity of what he was iming.

    ¡°Enough nonsense. I¡¯ve heard enough.¡±

    Kiri Gloria shook her head.

    ¡°Liches always keep their phctery as close as possible. If it¡¯s destroyed, their lives are over. They¡¯d always keep it within their protective reach.¡±

    ¡°Usually, yes. But not all liches are like that.¡±

    ¡°Are you speaking as if you¡¯ve fought one before?¡±

    ¡°¡­.¡±

    How does she know?

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    Oscar flinched, and Kiri, as if she¡¯d been expecting it, continued.

    ¡°Of course it wouldn¡¯t be here. I¡¯ve never encountered one myself, but the ck Tower has extensive records on liches. Unlike the White Tower, which has nothing but a hollow reputation.¡±

    She shot a nce at Veronica as if to say, You see now that you made the wrong choice, don¡¯t you?

    ¡°The lich¡¯s phctery is somewhere below this dungeon. We must destroy it, so from now on, follow my orders without question.¡±

    ¡°Huh? Why should we?¡±

    ¡°How dare you¡­!¡±

    Kiri unconsciously raised her voice but quicklyposed herself, furrowing her brows.

    "Because of your White Tower''s foolishness, the n to reseal the lich before it awakened failed. Isn''t it only fair that you take responsibility too?"

    "...I have nothing to say about that. I''m sorry,"

    Oscar admitted honestly.

    "I thought you were trying to awaken the lich with your resurrection ritual."

    "What? Why on earth would we do something so insane?"

    Oscar held back the words, Well, because you used to be a bunch of lunatics, swallowing them silently as he averted his gaze.

    "But I can''t go along with your suggestion. The vessel truly isn''t inside this dungeon."

    "¡­Ha,"

    Kiri let out a deep sigh, narrowing her eyes into slits.

    "So, what now? Are you just going to back out?"

    "Of course not. I have a rough idea of where the vessel might be."

    "Ha, fine. You¡¯ll go destroy the vessel wherever it is, and we¡¯ll descend the dungeon on our own?"

    A mocking smirk spread across Kiri¡¯s lips.

    "So, the righteous champions are running away with their tails between their legs in the face of danger?"

    "Half right, half wrong,"

    Oscar corrected her.

    "Killian and Veronica will investigate the area in question. Meanwhile, I''ll descend the dungeon with you."

    "¡­"

    Although he imed he would apany them, Kiri couldn¡¯t help but feel uneasy.

    It was already risky enough venturing into a dungeon filled with danger, but doing so with people she couldn''t fully trust made it worse.

    Of course, they¡¯d insist on following orders to maintain their upper hand.

    But if only two leave and one stays...

    Killian and Veronica from the White Tower were both 4th-level magic users.

    On the other hand, the so-called noble mage in front of her was merely a 3rd-level magic user.

    Even if he harbored other intentions, Kiri and her team could handle him on the spot.

    "Fine. But don¡¯t forget: in this dungeon, my orders are absolute."

    "Understood."

    Rumble!

    The entire dungeon shook violently at that moment.

    The lich below was undoubtedly rampaging, signaling they were running out of time.

    Killian asked urgently,

    "Oscar, where do you think the vessel is?"

    "The cemetery,"

    Oscar replied, referencing a ce they had passed earlier.

    "Honestly, I thought it was strange from the moment the lich emerged from that coffin. A lich, once fully prepared and asleep, avoids detection at all costs. After all, if discovered beforepletion, it would be sealed away and never see the light of day again."

    "Creating skeletons in a cemetery does seem odd."

    "Exactly. No ordinary lich would do that. When I confirmed the vessel wasn¡¯t in this dungeon, the likelihood that it¡¯s buried somewhere in that cemetery skyrocketed."

    The lich must also feel uneasy.

    While it had buried its vessel far from its main body, there was always a risk of it being destroyed.

    "And let¡¯s be honest: a remote vige cemetery isn¡¯t exactly appealing to grave robbers, making it a rtively safe hiding ce for the vessel."

    After hearing the exnation, Veronica stepped forward and addressed Kiri.

    "What do you think?"

    "What are you talking about, traitor?"

    "I''m asking if there¡¯s a w in his logic."n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

    "¡­"

    Kiri pressed her lips together.

    The more she thought about it, the more usible Oscar''s theory seemed.

    "Wouldn''t it be faster if we all went to the cemetery to find and destroy the vessel together?"

    Veronica suggested.

    "That¡¯s¡­"

    "No, we can¡¯t,"

    Oscar interjected unexpectedly.

    All eyes turned to him as he exined,

    "If destroying the vessel at the cemetery without any losses were possible, I¡¯d have already beaten up the ck Tower people here to make it happen."

    "What? A mere 3rd-level mage like you?"

    "Seems you¡¯re unaware of your limits,"

    The ck Tower¡¯s 4th-level duo growled in annoyance.

    But the fact remained: they hadn¡¯t done so because it wasn¡¯t an option.

    "If we all head to the cemetery, the lich will undoubtedly chase us,"

    Oscar continued.

    "¡­It¡¯d be nearly impossible to locate the vessel under those circumstances,"

    Kiri said, frowning.

    "Exactly. Worse, the vige could suffer coteral damage if luck isn¡¯t on our side."

    "Correct. Someone needs to stay behind and stop the lich from following."

    Oscar had volunteered for that role.

    He turned to Killian and Veronica.

    "Your task is critical. No matter how well we hold out here, if you fail to destroy the vessel, our chances of sess drop to zero."

    "Understood. We¡¯ll find it."

    "Right... Oh, wait, but don¡¯t expect the vessel to literally look like a vessel."

    "It doesn¡¯t!?"

    Killian eximed.

    That was close.

    Oscar broke into a nervous sweat as he borated,

    "The vessel could take any form¡ªa diary, a ring, or maybe even a literal vessel."

    "How will we identify it?"

    "It contains the lich¡¯s soul. The moment you see it, you¡¯ll know it¡¯s extraordinary."

    Rumble!

    The dungeon shook again as Oscar gestured toward the exit.

    "Go now."

    "Don¡¯t die. Hold out as long as you can."

    "Leave the vessel to us; we¡¯ll handle it!"

    Veronica added before they disappeared.

    Oscar turned to the remaining threepanions.

    "Shall we head down as well?"

    "Don¡¯t give orders. As I¡¯ve said¡­"

    "You¡¯re the one in charge. I get it,"

    he said nonchntly.

    "Let¡¯s start with the stairs."

    "Do we even have time for that?"

    Oscar pointed at arge hole.

    "There¡¯s a faster way down there."

    "How deep do you think it is?"

    Kiri asked, eyeing the pit warily.

    "Doesn¡¯t matter. You¡¯ve got a White Tower mage here, after all."

    "¡­"

    Swallowing hard, Kiri stared into the abyss before muttering,

    "Then slow and steady. I¡¯m not scared of heights or anything, okay?"

    "Got it. Slow and steady,"

    Oscar confirmed.

    But the moment he spoke...

    Whoosh!

    A strong wind from behind pushed all four of them straight into the hole.

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 Chapter 93

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    Chapter 93: The Graveyard of the Dead (5)

    Oscar and the three mages from the ck Tower walked through the corridor of the dungeon''s second underground floor.

    ¡°Stop.¡±

    At the moment Kiri Gloria, who stood at the center of the group, raised her fist,

    BOOM!

    A tremor powerful enough to shake the entire dungeon reverberated through the space.

    Quickly touching the ground, she muttered,

    ¡°...It¡¯s getting closer. With vibrations like this, it must be on the fourth underground floor.¡±

    This was fortunate.

    The coffin and pedestal where the creaturey were absurdly heavy, causing them to fall to such a depth.

    That meant they had enough time until Killian and Veronica found the vessel.

    ¡°I have a question.¡±

    ¡°Ask while we walk. Don¡¯t waste time with pointless questions.¡±

    Despite her cold response, Oscar pressed on.

    ¡°If your goal ining here was to seal that creature, why did only three of youe?¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    At that, Kiri frowned, as though she¡¯d just heard something she despised.

    ¡°If I don¡¯t want to answer?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll be hard to get my active cooperation, won¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    Only three people against a lich¡ªit was undoubtedly a burden.

    After a brief moment of contemtion, she reluctantly answered in a discontented tone.

    ¡°That¡¯s because the information we obtained was iplete.¡±

    ¡°Iplete?¡±

    ¡°Yes. That lich...¡±

    This time, her hesitationsted even longer.

    Frustrated, Oscarpleted the sentence for her.

    ¡°...was a mage of the ck Tower, wasn¡¯t it? Not exactly shocking.¡±

    ¡°...!¡±

    ¡°...!¡±

    The startled mages turned to look at him, their faces full of questions about how he knew.

    ¡°What¡¯s with the surprise? The magic it wields is almost identical to the magic of your ck Tower.¡±

    ¡°...I see. You noticed.¡±

    Letting out a bitter chuckle, Kiri nodded.

    ¡°You¡¯re right. That creature was once a mage of our ck Tower. Needless to say, it¡¯s now a thorn in our side.¡±

    Far from treating the lich as a senior, she exuded a palpable hostility toward it.

    The reason wasn¡¯t hard to guess.

    ¡°Because it could destroy the reputation your ck Tower worked so hard to rebuild?¡±

    ¡°Exactly. Over thest 20 years, the ck Tower has changed significantly.¡±

    Her clenched fists tightened even further.

    ¡°And it¡¯s still changing.¡±

    ¡°Still in progress, huh? That seems rted to why the information was iplete.¡±

    ¡°You... really are sharp.¡±

    By now, she admitted it without hesitation.

    ¡°That¡¯s right. The ck Tower currently has two factions. One, the Reformists, believes we must prove to the Empire that we¡¯vepletely transformed if we are to survive.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡±

    That faction likely emerged in the past 20 years¡ªan aspect of the ck Tower he hadn¡¯t known about.

    The widespread talk of the ck Tower¡¯s transformation was undoubtedly thanks to their efforts.

    ¡°And the other faction is the Radicals.¡±

    ¡°Hm.¡±

    Just hearing the name, he could guess their nature and stance.

    ¡°So, did they deliberately conceal information about the lich?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s correct.¡±

    For a moment, a cold sneer crossed her lips.

    ¡°The thoughts of those stuck in the past are predictable. They probably think that if the lich causes enough trouble, we¡¯ll have no choice but to align with them to preserve the reputation we¡¯ve painstakingly built.¡±

    ¡°And you hated that idea, so you were desperate to seal it.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. We knew there was a dungeon in this area belonging to it, but not the precise location. That¡¯s why we spent over two weeks scouring the region.¡±

    Finally, Oscar understood the situationpletely.

    ¡°So, is your curiosity satisfied? Feel better now?¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    Seeing an evildoer praised is far easier than seeing a virtuous person fall.

    The ck Tower nearly toppled the legacy it had worked two decades to establish.

    As Oscar recalled her mention of ¡°those stuck in the past,¡± he let out a bitter smile.

    ¡®Wasn¡¯t I the same?¡¯

    He, too, had been trapped by the past, judging them based on outdated knowledge.

    But the ck Tower he encountered after 20 years was nurturing new growth he had never seen before.

    Oscar bowed sincerely to the three mages.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I misjudged you.¡±

    ¡°...What?¡±

    Faced with the unexpected apology, Kiri looked him up and down with a bewildered expression.

    ¡°Did you lose your mind after seeing the lich? Or eat something bad?¡±

    ¡°No, when you realize you¡¯re wrong, you should apologize.¡±

    Hearing that, the two mages, who had introduced themselves as Gale and Borg, were about to nod involuntarily.

    But Kiri Gloria raised her hand to stop them.

    ¡°Don¡¯t ept his apology. And you two shouldn¡¯t apologize, either.¡±

    ¡°Kiri, why not?¡±

    ¡°Because receiving an apology from a White Tower mage is a rare opportunity.¡±

    With that, she shot him a frosty re.

    ¡°To us, you¡ªand the White Tower¡ªmust always remain our insurmountable nemesis.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    Because only then could their hatred fuel their progress.

    Oscar nodded with a wry smile.

    ¡®I suppose that¡¯s just how it is. A difference in perspective.¡¯

    The White Tower, the greatest producer of legendary heroes in history.

    The ck Tower, the origin of history¡¯s most notorious viins.

    The two towers were naturally ipatible.

    And the White Tower had repeatedly thwarted the ck Tower¡¯s ambitions to ascend to the rank of the Four Great Towers.

    ¡°Stop. Everyone conceal your magic and stay silent.¡±

    Suddenly, Kiri Gloria¡¯s expression shifted as she raised her fist, issuing themand.

    They were now on the third underground floor.

    Boom. Boom.

    The ground beneath them quaked ominously.

    The ck Tower¡¯s Level 4 mage, Gale, couldn¡¯t help but speak.

    ¡°Kiri, is this perhaps...¡±

    ¡°You fool...!¡±

    At the same moment Kiri spun around with a scowl,

    BOOM!

    The ground beneath Gale erupted, reced by a massive thorn resembling a tree trunk.

    ¡°G-Gale!!!¡±

    Gale couldn¡¯t even breathe properly.

    Oscar tapped his cheek and spoke.

    ¡°Breathe. Just breathe.¡±

    ¡°M-My stomach...¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not pierced. I pulled you out in time.¡±

    ¡°?¡±

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    It was only after looking down at his stomach that Gale exhaled the breath he had been holding.

    For a moment, he had thought the giant thorn had skewered himpletely.

    Realizing he was alive solely thanks to the man before him, he stammered,

    ¡°T-Thank you...¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t mention it.¡±

    A moment¡¯s dy would have meant Gale¡¯s death.

    Oscar narrowed his eyes as he examined the massive thorn.

    ¡®ck Magic: Thorn of Hatred.¡¯

    It was once a signature spell of the ck Tower.

    Even now, when necromancy was ouwed, it was likely still among their repertoire.

    Sssss.

    The thorn slithered downward like a living snake, and from the hole it left, something began to rise.

    Hooooo.

    ¡°...!¡±

    ¡°...!¡±

    A lich.

    The aura of death emanating from the creature filled the room as it looked at the four mages and spoke.

    -Step aside... I have somewhere to be.

    Unlike his previouslyposed demeanor, the figure now appeared somewhat anxious.

    Confirming this, Oscar raised one corner of his lips in a smirk.

    ¡®Killian, Veronica, you''ve arrived.¡¯

    They had reached the cemetery.

    By now, those two were probably scouring the ce, desperate to find the "vessel."

    -I said, move aside! Now!

    BOOM! CRASH!

    A dozen spikes burst from the ground, targeting them.

    However, the four of them were far from unprepared¡ªcertainly not to the point of sumbing to an attack they had anticipated.

    -You... you scum...

    Atst, the figure stretched all ten fingers wide and shed an "X" in the air toward them.

    At the same time, rm bells rang in Oscar''s head.

    ¡®This could be dangerous.¡¯

    It was the deadly beams the figure had shown earlier.

    Now, they erupted from all ten fingers, sweeping through the narrow corridor like a storm.

    No room to dodge...

    "Get behind me!"

    Clenching his teeth, Oscar hastily erected a massive shield in front of them.

    Tatatatat!

    Behind him, the sound of something rapidly approaching reached his ears.

    Ziiing!

    Something enormous intercepted the deadly beams, scattering them in all directions.

    "This is...?"

    "Step back and stay out of this."

    With arms crossed, Kiri Gloria spoke confidently.

    Her back was as solid as that of a loyal knight.

    Unshaken by the beams of death, a pitch-ck skeletal figure stood resolute¡ªa mechanical golem, 2 meters tall, with its back to the group.

    This was a breakthrough created by the ck Tower, despite the ban on necromancy.

    "ck magic, mechanical necromancy."

    The ck Tower¡¯s proudest secret weapon.

    * * *

    Tatatatata!

    Veronica and Killian sprinted toward the cemetery in silence.

    Upon arriving, they began scouring the area without a word.

    Veronica scanned the vicinity, biting her lower lip lightly.

    ¡®I don¡¯t sense anything resembling a vessel.¡¯

    But where could it be?

    They were sure it was hidden somewhere in the area, but no one knew how to uncover it.

    ¡®Alright, let¡¯s think from another perspective.¡¯

    If she were the lich, where would she hide the vessel?

    Of course, she¡¯d conceal it in the most secretive and inessible ce possible.

    So where would that be?

    As she agonized over the question, a skeleton emerged from the ground.

    "What is this? Just a low-grade monster..."

    Veronica¡¯s wind arrow pierced through the skeleton¡¯s skull, and it copsed into a pile of bones.

    Ignoring the heap of bones, she dashed around the cemetery.

    Meanwhile, Killian stood still, arms crossed, watching her with narrowed eyes.

    After a while, Veronica noticed hisck of action and red at him.

    "Hey, what are you doing just standing there?"

    "Observing."

    "Why would you do that? Aren¡¯t you going to look for the vessel?"

    "Hmm. Running around aimlessly doesn¡¯t seem like the best way to find it."

    "..."

    Was this guy¡¯s usual "forest warrior" act just a facade?

    Wiping the sweat off her forehead with a dirt-covered hand, Veronica spoke.

    "So, did you find anything with your observing? If not, shut up and start moving like me."

    "I did find something puzzling."

    Killian pointed at the pile of bones on the ground.

    "Skeletons emerging from underground."

    "What¡¯s strange about that? I¡¯ve been smashing their heads as soon as theye out."

    "The vige elder said that these skeletons could be defeated if the guards teamed up."

    "Yeah, and he also said they¡¯d rise again soon after. That¡¯s just because they don¡¯t have enough magic to fully destroy them."

    "Right. But before we entered this dungeon, Oscarpletely cleared out this cemetery."

    "...!"

    He wouldn¡¯t have used a weapon to take out the skeletons.

    He must¡¯ve used magic to deal with them.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om

    "Then it¡¯s weird that they¡¯re rising again. But so what? Maybe that lich guy is using his magic to create more skeletons to guard the vessel."

    "Which makes it even stranger. If he wanted to guard the vessel, why use weaklings like skeletons?"

    "¡­Good point."

    If the vessel were really hidden here, it wouldn¡¯t be guarded by skeletons.

    Stronger creatures would¡¯ve been stationed instead.

    "Wait... That means..."

    "These skeletons are a diversion. The real location of the vessel will be guarded by stronger undead."

    "..."

    So the whole "forest warrior" act really was a facade?

    [PR/N: Hey Killian is smart!!]

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 Chapter 94

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    Chapter 94: The Graveyard of the Dead (6)

    A corridor in the dungeon, not particrly wide.

    In the confined space that limited movement, a lich looked up at the mechanical golem standing before it.

    -This is¡­?

    The red glow of the lich¡¯s eyes held a trace of curiosity.

    -A long-forgotten junior. The soul used in this doll¡­ could it be what I think it is?

    ¡°...Endeavor, drive it to the wall.¡±

    Ignoring the lich¡¯s question, Kiri gave a quietmand.

    Boom!

    The jet-ck mechanical golem, Endeavor, mmed the lich''s skull into the wall.

    ¡°Grind it down like that.¡±

    Hearing its master¡¯s cold voice, Endeavor began to push forward relentlessly.

    ng! Crack!

    Sparks flew as bone and wall scraped against each other, filling the corridor with the sound of grinding bone.

    ¡°¡­Impressive,¡±

    Oscar murmured, staring nkly at the scene.

    To overwhelm a lich sopletely?

    It wasn¡¯t entirely unexpected, but what astonished her most was something else.

    ¡®That golem doesn¡¯t emit the unique aura of the undead.¡¯

    The auramonly referred to as death energy or ghostly energy-something only the dead, who no longer breathe, could wield.

    The problem was that the mechanical golem before her exuded no such aura.

    ¡®But¡­ how is something like that even possible?¡¯

    Oscar wore a look of confusion.

    She referred to this technique as mechanical necromancy.

    Necromancy, by definition, was the study of manipting souls.

    In other words, even the diminutive golem Endeavor must have a soul embedded within it.

    ¡®And yet, with no trace of death¡¯s aura¡­¡¯

    There were only two possibilities.

    One was that she was being deceived, and the technology¡¯s true nature was being hidden.

    ¡®The other is¡­¡¯

    As Oscar¡¯s face grew grim, Endeavor returned from the far end of the corridor.

    It tossed the tattered remains of the lich onto the ground.

    -Hmm, how violent. Is it over now?

    Despite losing over 70% of its skull, the lich rose naturally, showing no sign of pain.

    The four mages watching weren¡¯t surprised. No one believed a lich could die so easily.

    A lich, whose soul was stored separately for immortality, wouldn¡¯t feel pain in the first ce.

    -It seems I¡¯ve been asleep for quite some time.

    Crack. Pop.

    The lich casually rotated its neck a few times, and its skull began to regenerate.

    -Seeing my juniors in the ck Tower create such an amusing toy¡­

    ¡°Toy?¡±

    Kiri Gloria red at the lich with a gaze cold enough to freeze it solid.

    ¡°Watch your mouth. This isn¡¯t some toy. It¡¯s proof of our efforts and struggles to correct the mistakes your generation left behind.¡±

    -Hmm. Mistakes left by my generation?

    Tilting its head as if pondering deeply, the lich¡¯s glowing red eyes stretched into a mocking grin.

    -I can¡¯t think of a single one.

    ¡°You¡­! How dare you¡­¡±

    -If you¡¯re suffering from something my generation did,

    The lich pointed a thin, bony finger at Kiri.

    -It¡¯s because you¡¯re weak.

    ¡°...!¡±

    With those words, malevolent energy pressed down on the four mages like a crushing weight.

    ¡°Ugh!¡±

    -No one in this world demands an apology from someone who could crush them like an insect. If you¡¯re being criticized, it¡¯s because your weakness caused it. me yourselves.

    Yes, that¡¯s the kind of rhetoric the ck Tower mages of his memories would spew without hesitation.

    As Oscar unconsciously nodded, the others, who had been secretly preparing their magic, shouted out.

    ¡°Borg!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s ready!¡±

    Two mechanical golems, summoned in front of Gale and Borg, charged at the lich in an instant.

    The lich nced at the charging golems and spoke.

    -Weaker than the one from earlier, and the souls inside are far lighter.

    Crash!

    The two golems grabbed the lich¡¯s arms.

    At the same time, Endeavor, who had been waiting for an opening, closed in with a jet-ck sword.

    -If this is the extent of your little tricks¡­

    Sizzle!

    The arms of the golems gripping the lich began to corrode and melt in seconds.

    -I think it¡¯s time to end this game.

    ¡°Argh!¡±

    ¡°Aghhh!¡±

    Gale and Borg screamed in agony and copsed, their eyes rolling back.

    ¡°Gale! Borg!¡±

    Kiri hurried to check on her fallenrades, biting her lip tightly.

    Her eyes burned with a fiery rage.

    ¡°Unforgivable¡­ Endeavor!¡±

    Endeavor swung its de down to bisect the lich.

    However, some unknown force stopped the sword just above the lich¡¯s head, leaving it trembling in ce.

    -Unforgivable? That¡¯s my line.

    The lich ced its foot on the fallen golems and continued.

    -This doll¡­ While the concept is intriguing, that¡¯s all there is to it. At its core, it denies the foundation of necromancy and tarnishes its honor¡ªa mere piece of trash.

    Sizzle, sizzle!n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

    The parts of the golems touched by the lich¡¯s foot began to melt.

    Simultaneously, Gale¡¯s condition worsened rapidly.

    ¡°Get your foot off, now!¡±

    Consumed by rage, Kiripleted her ck magic.

    What she conjured was the Thorn of Hatred spell the lich had used earlier, though at only half the size.

    -How cute.

    Her spike, flying through the air, was pierced by arger spike rising from the ground.

    "Ugh!"

    Magic backfired, and Kiri coughed up blood.

    The lich, who had swiftly overpowered the ck tower''s mages, spoke with genuine curiosity.

    -You have talent. So why waste it creating trash like these puppets?

    "...Because I... we... don¡¯t want to be monsters like you."

    Blood dripped from Kiri¡¯s tightly clenched lips.

    It was out of sheer frustration.

    Because she couldn¡¯t protect herrades, because they were helplessly defeated, and because the method she despised had proven so overwhelmingly powerful.

    It made her furious and heartbroken.

    "...The ck Tower and ck magic aren''t wrong."

    She mumbled almost as if sobbing.

    "Its depth and utility as a field of study are second to none. You and scum like Silgrim Fonerth are the problem. The ck Tower isn¡¯t some branch of magic that needs to sacrifice others to grow stronger!"

    -But absorbing the souls of others allows one to grow iparably faster. That¡¯s an overwhelming strength unique to the ck Tower.

    The lich, losing interest, spoke in a dull voice.

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    -How weak you youngsters are. Obsessing over the opinions of others makes you so fragile. If you want something, take it. Kneel, kill, and dominate. Don¡¯t bother taking the long, hard road when an easy path is right there.

    Boom!

    The lich kicked Borg¡¯s golem, sending it tumbling powerlessly to the ground.

    -Look at yourselves. So-called ck mages, necromancers, wasting your precious souls on puppets like these. You should be ashamed.

    "...."

    Oscar, who had been quietly listening, let his eyes grow cold.

    ¡®Just as I thought.¡¯

    Ever since he didn¡¯t sense the aura of death in the golems, he had suspected something.

    That perhaps those golems didn¡¯t contain the souls of others but something else entirely.

    ¡®I didn¡¯t expect them to use their own souls, though.¡¯

    He had assumed it must involve someone else¡¯s soul.

    But no, their secret technique harmed no one else.

    They bore all the risks themselves.

    Now he understood why Gale and Borg were in such a state after their golems were destroyed.

    Even if it was only partial, their souls had taken direct damage.

    It made perfect sense.

    "...."

    Oscar slowly closed his eyes.

    Every time he shut them, memories of Silgrim Fonerth¡¯s undead army haunted him.

    The cries of hisrades and subordinates, who had died fighting those monstrosities, still echoed in his ears.

    ¡®But.¡¯

    The ck Tower had changed.

    They hadn¡¯t run from the mistakes of their predecessors.

    Instead, they faced them head-on with courage and dignity.

    They even went so far as to sacrifice their souls to change the perceptions of those who viewed them with prejudice.

    ¡®...Who could dare?¡¯

    Who could darebel them traitors or point using fingers at them?

    Slowly, very slowly, Oscar opened his eyes.

    His gaze now held a calm rity that had not been there before.

    With a resolute motion, he pulled out a vial of high-grade potion from his pocket and ced it on the ground.

    "This is a top-tier potion from the White Tower. Give it to them. It¡¯ll save their lives."

    "What?"

    Kiri turned to look at him with a stunned expression.

    It was as if she couldn¡¯t believe what he was saying when they were all about to die.

    "Give them the potion, and once they wake up, get out of the dungeon."

    "...What?"

    She repeated the same words like a parrot, dumbfounded.

    It was no wonder-his actions made no sense.

    "You¡¯re not seriously nning to buy time against that monster, are you? For us?"

    "I¡¯m not just trying to buy time."

    Oscar looked at the lich calmly as he spoke.

    "I¡¯m going to eliminate that creature."

    "...Oh, I see. You¡¯ve gone insane from fear. You¡¯re a lunatic."

    She cursed instinctively.

    Typical of a friend, she thought; this reminded her so much of Veronica.

    Oscar chuckled silently, ncing at her before speaking honestly.

    "Kiri Gloria. I admire how you¡¯ve chosen to confront the mistakes of the past. I think it¡¯s admirable."

    "...What¡¯s with this all of a sudden?"

    "That¡¯s why, when they wake up, take them and leave. The ck Tower needs people like you."

    Hearing their conversation, the lich burst intoughter.

    -Hah! What drivel. Listening to this nonsense is tiresome. A mere level-3 mage-

    His sentence was abruptly cut off.

    "Shut up."

    -...!

    The lich¡¯s glowing eyes flickered violently.

    ¡®When did he-?¡¯

    He instinctively flinched at the novice mage who had closed the distance in an instant.

    That ominous magic, soft yet razor-sharp, felt disturbingly familiar.

    "Hey! Hey, you!"

    Oscar waved lightly at Kiri¡¯s shouting from behind before boom!

    He stomped, copsing the floor beneath him.

    * * *

    The next moment, he and the lich fell together to the lower floor.

    ...Hoo.

    The lich suppressed his rising irritation.

    Falling to the same spot he had already climbed out of was vexing enough.

    ¡®More than that.¡¯

    His glowing eyes fixed on the novice mage, now filled with displeasure.

    -I see it now. That vile, white tower magic.

    Now he understood why he had hesitated for a moment against this brat.

    ¡®It¡¯s because of that damn White Tower Master. Though he¡¯s probably long dead by now.¡¯

    The lich raised a hand, and spikes of ¡°Hatred¡¯s Thorn¡± rose in response.

    He intended to swiftly kill this level-3 mage and climb back up.

    Someone had juste into contact with his ¡°vessel,¡± and he couldn¡¯t dy any longer.

    "First, let¡¯s see¡ª"

    At that moment, the lich suddenly felt as if the world was rising upward.

    But of course, the world doesn¡¯t rise upward on its own.

    -...!

    What he felt was the sensation of himself copsing.

    His body, made of bone, had been sliced into hundreds-no, thousands-of pieces without him even realizing.

    -What, what is this?

    He quickly restored his shattered body, his glowing eyes flickering like trembling candles.

    "..."

    Reflected in the flickering dungeon torchlight, his opponent¡¯s face betrayed no emotion.

    It reminded him of the fearsome presence that had once forced him into slumber.

    Just like Oscar Sage had been back then.

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 Chapter 95

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    Chapter 95: The Graveyard of the Dead (7)

    John Dras.

    That was the name the lich was called back when he was human.

    He had been a loyal subordinate of Silgrim Fonerth, and even when Silgrim betrayed humanity and led an army of the dead, John was among his ranks as a ck mage.

    ¡°Hmm. So, in short, you''re asking me to hold this front line?¡±

    ¡°Exactly.¡±

    At the words of the demon who had joined their forces, John nced around.

    Hundreds of demon soldiers positioned at various outposts were a reassuring presence on their own.

    And on top of that, there were thousands of undead soldiers entrusted to him by Silgrim Fonerth.

    ¡®This is... an army that could probably conquer a decent-sized city.¡¯

    Just observing them filled him with confidence, bolstered by the strength of his allies.

    Naturally, his voice brimmed with determination.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t such a difficult task. I think we could hold even if the imperial army¡ªfeared as it may be¡ªdecided to attack.¡±

    ¡°The imperial army of humans? They¡¯re nothing,¡±

    The demon scoffed.

    ¡°What we need to be cautious of is the White Tower. Particrly, one mage in particr.¡±

    ¡°Just one mage... Do you mean Oscar Sage?¡±

    John had heard the rumors.

    A man who had be the master of the White Tower in his mid-20s, a prodigy whose power was so great it was said to be like touching the heavens.

    He was humanity¡¯s hope and a nightmare to demons.

    ¡®Even Silgrim mentioned him.¡¯

    No matter what, beware of Oscar Sage.

    That was Silgrim¡¯s advice.

    John shrugged, indifferent.

    ¡®They said he was an 8th-level mage, didn¡¯t they?¡¯

    Of course, that was an extraordinary rank.

    But at the end of the day, wasn¡¯t he just one person?

    John doubted whether even a figure like that could pose a threat to this army, holding an entire front line.

    ¡®He¡¯s probably just a hero created by the empire to give people hope during times like these.¡¯

    But within a matter of days, John encountered firsthand just how terrifying the power of the mage¡ªdubbed the demon¡¯s nightmare¡ªtruly was.

    ¡°...¡±

    It wasn¡¯t a battle but a massacre, so brutal it was hard to tell who was demon and who was human.

    The white demon appeared without expression.

    Every time an intense wind swept through, strong enough to distort the space around it, dozens of heads rolled to the ground.

    It took just two hours for the once-mighty army to be obliterated by a single individual.

    During the battle, John Dras sensed defeat and burrowed underground to hide.

    He concealed himself in the soil where corpses were stored, slowing his heartbeat to the bare minimum.

    It wasn¡¯t hard to determine who had won the battle above.

    Step, step.

    Chilling footsteps unmistakably approached his location.

    At that moment, the heavens saved him.

    ¡°...What? The front line?¡±

    The man seemed to receive amunication spell, fell silent for a moment, and sighed.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be there soon. Hold on as long as you can.¡±

    Only after the man left did John crawl out of the earth¡ªtwo dayster, still trembling with fear.

    Fleeing aimlessly, he prepared to be a lich and entered a long sleep, thinking that if he slept for decades, the nightmare would eventually fade.

    ...Mm.

    The lich groaned.

    And yet, why did the young man standing before him now evoke the same demonic aura as that human from back then?

    ¡®It seems he must be that man¡¯s apprentice.¡¯

    It was a reasonable assumption.

    After all, decades had passed while the lich slumbered, and the man before him clearly wasn¡¯t the same person.

    Moreover, their faces were different.

    ¡®So I, this great being, am feeling fear toward a mere apprentice?¡¯

    The lich roared in humiliation.

    -I¡¯ll kill you!

    As the lich extended his hand, a massive spike of hatred surged toward Oscar.

    ¡°.....¡±

    Oscar didn¡¯t flinch as he stared at the approaching spike. His lips moved slightly.

    ¡°Wind Cutter.¡±

    The feeble-looking de of wind wasughablepared to the enormous spike.

    But as it sliced through the air¡ª

    The spike, which seemed capable of tearing Oscar apart, was cleanly split in two.

    -You cut through the very threads of my magic... with just a 3rd-level spell?

    Even after cleaving the spike in half, the wind de continued its course, carving dozens of lines into the lich¡¯s body.

    tter!

    As the lich¡¯s skeletal form copsed into a pile of bones, Oscar crouched silently in front of it.

    A lich was typically considered equivalent to a 7th-level high mage, but this one didn¡¯t reach that level.

    ¡®Probably because its resurrection ritual was iplete.¡¯

    This lich was barely at the 6th level now.

    Though with time, as it adjusted to its undead form, it would grow stronger.

    Oscar observed the lich slowly reconstructing its form and muttered,

    ¡°...Just hurry up and find and destroy these things, will you?¡±

    Before his mana waspletely drained.

    * * *

    Veronica¡¯s ¡ºTracking¡» spell guided them to an underground tomb.

    Initially, they had merely followed a trail of malice, unsure of their destination.

    But the moment the hidden stairs were revealed, everything changed.

    ¡°So, there was a ce like this beneath the cemetery.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. The deeper we go, the stronger the malice bes.¡±

    The malice emanating from this ce was strong enough to be felt on the surface.

    It seemed likely that the malice was responsible for animating the skeletons.

    ¡°...Hey.¡±

    ¡°I see it.¡±

    Atst, they descended the stairs to find a spacious chamber waiting for them.

    The faint mist swirling around their anklesbined with the dim lighting created a dreamlike atmosphere.

    At the far end of the mysterious chambery a small, tightly-sealed jar.

    ¡°That jar... it feels unique.¡±

    "An evil spirit can be felt from inside. That must be the vessel."

    Killian moved forward, his footsteps steady.

    "We have to destroy it quickly. Oscar and the others are in danger."

    "Wait! What if there¡¯s a trap or a monster hiding here?"

    At Killian¡¯s reckless approach, Veronica screamed.

    BOOM!

    With a deafening roar, Killian¡¯s body was flung backward.

    "¡­If something''s hiding, it¡¯ll show itself. Like now."

    Killian frowned, crossing his arms to block the attack.

    Even though he only deflected it once, his bones throbbed with pain.

    Ssssss.

    The smoke swirling around his ankles gathered into one ce, forming the shape of a knight on horseback.

    "¡­An undead."

    Now that the enemy was identified, it was time to take it down.

    Killian cloaked his fingers in silvery magic and charged at the enemy in an instant.

    ¡ºws of the Wind¡»

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    BAM!

    The knight raised his sword to block the attack, but the horse staggered and retreated.

    ¡®The attack works.¡¯

    This meant the opponent wasn¡¯t overwhelmingly strong.

    Encouraged, Killian circled the enemy like a wolf, looking for an opening.

    The knight had to fend off Veronica¡¯s magic attacks flying in from all sides, so an opportunity would eventually arise.

    Click, ck.

    And then, as the horse¡¯s gait faltered and it stumbled backward¡ª

    ¡®Now.¡¯

    Killian didn¡¯t miss the opening and pounced like a predator.

    BOOM!

    But in the end, the attack failed.

    "¡­¡­."

    His ws, aimed at the knight¡¯s neck, collided with a wind arrow fired from behind.

    Distancing himself from the knight, Killian scowled.

    "What do you think you¡¯re doing?"

    "What am I doing? I shot my magic at the opening, and you blocked it with your body!"

    "That was my opening, and I could¡¯ve finished it."

    "Don¡¯t be ridiculous. The opening was created because I distracted it with my magic!"

    As the two argued meaninglessly¡ªn/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

    Whinny!

    The ck horse raised its front legs and charged straight at them.

    "Damn it, focus on the battle!"

    "Why don¡¯t you do your job properly?!"

    The knight, having learned from its mistake, moved far more defensively than before, leaving almost no openings.

    ¡®But if I push my speed to the limit¡­¡¯

    Killian¡¯s ¡ºeleration¡» tattoo lit up three times.

    Moving at a speed iparable to before, Killian quickly maneuvered behind the knight.

    -¡­!

    "Got you."

    His sharp ws sliced sideways, cutting into the knight¡¯s neck.

    sh!

    The severed head flew into the air.

    Just as Killian smirked in triumph¡ª

    "?"

    Whoosh!

    The knight turned and swung its sword at him, headless.

    ¡®It¡¯s still moving even after losing its head?¡¯

    This wasn¡¯t an ordinary undead; it was a Duhan.

    The unexpected situation left Killian flustered.

    ng!

    From behind, a streak of wind struck the knight¡¯s sword like lightning, deflecting it.

    "¡­¡­!"

    If the wind had targeted the knight¡¯s body, Killian would have been gravely injured or killed, but the sword was blocked, sparing him.

    That could only mean one thing.

    "Agh, this reckless fool¡­ I did my part, so finish it properly."

    She was always grumbling and noisy, but at least she knew what it meant to have someone¡¯s back.

    "¡­Not bad. I¡¯ll give you that,"

    Killian muttered dryly, gathering his magic.

    Another ws of Wind shed through the air.

    Rip!

    The Duhan¡¯s chest was instantly marked with eight thin lines, and it exploded into pieces.

    Crash!

    Killian dashed forward and smashed the jar.

    "Let¡¯s hope we¡¯re not toote."

    * * *

    "Whew, these guys are ridiculously slow,"

    Oscar muttered.

    He wasn¡¯t in great shape.

    He¡¯d shattered the lich seven times, but thest time took four consecutive attacks.

    ¡®It¡¯s getting harder to deal with. Plus, the lich is adapting to its body.¡¯

    Compared to when it first awoke, the flow of its magic was now much smoother.

    The difference between a freshly awakened level-6 mage and a seasoned one was immense.

    "¡­Still, it¡¯s fortunate they¡¯re not toote."

    Screeech!

    The lich screamed.

    The reason was obvious¡ªthe vessel had been destroyed.

    -Curse you, humans¡­ CURSE YOUUUU!

    The lich¡¯s glowing eyes radiated deadly malice.

    Its overwhelming mana filled the space, pressing down as if to crush everything.

    -Fine¡­ If I must perish, I¡¯ll tear you apart and take you with me.

    "No thanks."

    Oscar had no interest in dancing with skeletons.

    Drawing up his mana, he prepared his stance.

    Oscar-style martial art, Secret Technique Chapter 1.

    -¡­Wait, that magic¡­?

    The lich¡¯s glowing eyes expanded in instinctive fear.

    "Sound of Waves."

    The magic surged like a tidal wave, ignoring the deathly magic blocking its path.

    Wind doesn¡¯t need to destroy or break through obstacles¡ªit simply passes by.

    "It just brushes past."

    This magic targeted the oxygen in the blood, causing a devastating explosion.

    But it wasn¡¯t without destructive force.

    "At the very least¡­"

    Snapping a few old, brittle bones was no big deal.

    Crack!

    -O¡­Oscar¡­ Sage¡­?

    The lich¡¯s hollow voice seemed to echo for a moment, but it was drowned out by the crashing waves and scattered into nothingness.

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 Chapter 96

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    Chapter 96: The Graveyard of the Dead (8)

    Oscar, having removed his robe, carefully wrapped the pile of lich bones with it.

    The bones, imbued with all sorts of magic, were valuable materials on their own.

    ¡°A tiger leaves its hide when it dies...¡±

    A lich, on the other hand, leaves behind its bones upon death.

    Such is thew of nature.

    ...No, wait, since a lich is already dead, perhaps ¡°disintegration¡± would be more fitting.

    As these trivial thoughts crossed his mind, he sensed hurried footstepsing from the staircase behind him.

    ¡°Haa, haa.¡±

    Kiri Gloria.

    Having apparently run in a rush, she was panting as she looked around at the ruined space, unable to close her gaping mouth.

    ¡°...What the heck? Where did that guy go?¡±

    Her searching eyes finallynded on the bundle in Oscar''s grasp.

    Oscar held the bundle tightly, his guard up.

    ¡°Sorry, but staring at it won¡¯t make me give it to you.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not why I¡¯m staring!¡±

    She snapped, her voice sharp, before letting out a heavy sigh as if drained.

    ¡°Hoo, anyway, I¡¯m d.¡±

    ¡°d I¡¯m not dead?¡±

    ¡°...Hmph.¡±

    Scoffing, she crossed her arms and replied coldly,

    ¡°Don¡¯t get it twisted. I¡¯m just d we don¡¯t owe the White Tower an apology or a debt.¡±

    Oscar mulled over her words before responding.

    ¡°But isn¡¯t it true you already owe me? I did save your friends¡¯ lives.¡±

    ¡°T-That¡¯s...¡±

    Caught off guard by his blunt remark, she fumbled for words.

    ¡°I had my own trump card, you know. I probably could¡¯ve handled it somehow in that situation. But, well, I can¡¯t deny that you stepping in made rescuing them easier than expected. So, if I had to admit it, you did a pretty good job.¡±

    ¡°You sure have a talent for making thank-you speeches long-winded.¡±

    She fell silent at hisment before muttering begrudgingly,

    ¡°...I¡¯m not used to saying such things. It¡¯s my first time receiving help from someone else.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s... really sad.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s just how it is for us.¡±

    For a brief moment, a deeply bitter expression crossed her face.

    ¡°That¡¯s the biggest difference between the ck Tower and the White Tower. No matter what you guys do, you¡¯re loved, but we¡¯re the opposite. As soon as someone hears ¡®ck Tower,¡¯ they hate and ostracize us for no reason. Even if we do good things.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    The atmosphere turned heavy, like a downpour had settled over them.

    Wanting tofort her, Oscar spoke up.

    ¡°Maybe people envy you.¡±

    ¡°?¡±

    Kiri tilted her head at his unexpected words.

    ¡°What are you talking about all of a sudden?¡±

    ¡°Well, people tend to live pretending not to see or know what they¡¯ve done wrong.¡±

    Facing one¡¯s mistakes and striving to fix them is incredibly exhausting and difficult.

    ¡°But you, as a group, are boldly confronting the wrongs of your predecessors and working to correct them. That takes immense courage. Perhaps that¡¯s why people dislike you. Seeing you makes them feel more pathetic and small for hiding their own ws.¡±

    ¡°...Hmph. You sure know how to sweet-talk.¡±

    She scoffed dismissively, but her ears perked up slightly, like a puppy enjoying a treat.

    Oscar, noticing this, suppressed a chuckle and said,

    ¡°Let¡¯s head back to the vige.¡±

    After all, there are people eagerly awaiting this news.

    * * *

    ¡°Thank you so much!¡±

    ¡°Whew, now I can finally stretch out my legs and sleep in peace.¡±

    The vigers, ted by the news that the source of their terror had been vanquished, were overjoyed.

    Though the return happenedte at night, the vige square turned into a small festival.

    With a whoosh, the vige chief lit a campfire in the square and eximed,

    ¡°Tonight, we¡¯ll ughter a pig!¡±

    ¡°Hearing that, I can¡¯t just sit still. I¡¯ll bring a chicken from home!¡±

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll fetch some potatoes and mushrooms. A nice hot soup would be perfect in this weather.¡±

    Though hastily organized, the festival was filled with warm sentiments.

    Oscar turned to Killian and Veronica, saying,

    ¡°You really did a great job finding the vessel. Thanks to you, we made it.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. I used my brains to figure out where the vessel might be.¡±

    ¡°...You used your brains? Did you headbutt some gravestones or something?¡±

    ¡°No. I genuinely thought things through. Ask the witness here.¡±

    He looked at Veronica, who gave a reluctant nod.

    ¡°Well, he¡¯s not wrong.¡±

    ¡°...Really?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s not as clueless as I thought he was.¡±

    ¡°Veronica Fricks. You¡¯re not as untrustworthy as I thought, either.¡±

    ¡°Hey, that¡¯s all I get? Without me, you¡¯d be dead back there.¡±

    ¡°A proud and sturdy forest warrior wouldn¡¯t die from a mere attack like that.¡±

    ¡°Oh, is that so? Maybe I should¡¯ve let that skeleton bash your skull in, then.¡±

    Watching the two bicker, Oscar blinked in surprise.

    ¡°What the... You two... Are you seriously this close after just a few hours?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not close.¡±

    ¡°Not close at all!¡±

    Really?

    Because they looked close to anyone watching.

    Suppressing a silentugh, Oscar felt a sense of relief.

    ¡®At least the trip back won¡¯t feel as suffocating.¡¯

    Compared to the oppressive atmosphere earlier, now it felt like traveling with old friends.

    As the cheerful vige chief and residents approached, they eximed,

    ¡°Thank you again, mages.¡±

    ¡°If you ever want to rest in a ce with fresh air, you¡¯re always wee here!¡±

    ¡°Yes, you mages are always wee!¡±

    ¡°Next time you visit, I¡¯ll show you the beautiful mountains and fields around here.¡±

    As Oscar smiled warmly in response, something caught his eye.

    In the shadows, far from the campfire¡¯s light, stood the mages of the ck Tower.

    ¡°...¡±

    Oscar couldn¡¯t take his eyes off them and finally spoke.

    ¡°It¡¯s good that the situation is resolved, but I feel a bit guilty, as if we¡¯ve stolen the credit from the ck Tower mages.¡±

    ¡°Sorry? What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Well, we basically barged into an operation that the ck Tower had been working on independently. Thanks to their prior research, we were able to solve the problem easily.¡±

    At those words, countless gazes turned toward the ck Tower mages.

    ¡°Oh, so that¡¯s why they were wandering around the vige¡­¡±

    ¡°Was all of that for our sake? I misunderstood and judged them wrongly.¡±

    As the sudden attention turned into a flurry of apologies, a startled Kiri stammered a response.

    ¡°Ah, no. From the beginning, we weren¡¯t¡­¡±

    Tug.

    At that moment, Kiri felt something tugging at her sleeve and looked down.

    A girl holding a ball was smiling as brightly as spring flowers.

    ¡°Thank you, big sister!¡±

    ¡°Huh¡­ Big sister? Oh, um, sure.¡±

    Kiri, mesmerized by the girl¡¯s innocent voice, responded instinctively.

    This set off a wave of warm actions from the vigers.

    ¡°Why are you standing in such a dark ce?¡±

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    ¡°Even if you¡¯re mages, it¡¯s cold out here. Come closer to the fire.¡±

    ¡°This meat was grilled by me¡ªit¡¯s delicious. Would you like to try some?¡±

    ¡°Have some soup too.¡±

    The ck Tower mages, who were reluctantly dragged into the center of activity, appeared bewildered but didn¡¯t seem entirely displeased.

    It wasn¡¯t until muchter that Kiri, finally freed, approached with a serious expression.

    ¡°Was that pity?¡±

    ¡°No, I just stated the facts as they are. Nothing I said was untrue.¡±

    ¡°But¡­¡±

    She frowned as if unable toprehend.

    ¡°If you¡¯d just kept quiet, you could have taken all the credit.¡±

    ¡°Hm.¡±

    Oscar replied with an amused expression.

    ¡°As I said before, I¡¯vee to see you all differently this time. Or rather, I¡¯vee to see you properly for the first time.¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about all of a sudden?¡±

    ¡°What about you?¡±

    ¡°¡­What?¡±

    ¡°Do you see our White Tower properly?¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Kiri Gloria hesitated, her lips moving as if to speak but no words came out.

    She was pondering his question:

    Do you really think the White Tower¡¯s mages are as ipetent as you imagined?

    Are we truly the viins you¡¯ve built up in your minds?

    ¡°¡­No matter what, we have to surpass you. That will never change.¡±

    ¡°Is that so.¡±

    Kiri muttered as she stood up.

    ¡°But¡­ Fine, I¡¯ll admit it. You¡¯re not the inept group we thought you were.¡±

    ¡°The next time we meet will be during the Mage¡¯s Night, I suppose.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll crush you with all our strength and pull you down from the seat of the Four Great Towers.¡±

    Hearing her audacious deration, Oscar smirked.

    ¡°Keep dreaming and find another tower to challenge. We¡¯re not going anywhere.¡±

    ¡°¡­Let¡¯s go.¡±

    Kiri spun around and left the vige, taking Gale and Borg with her.

    Oscar nced at Veronica, who was sitting beside him.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you going after them?¡±

    ¡°¡­Well, there¡¯ll be another opportunity, I suppose.¡±

    She looked at the departing backs of her old friends with aplicated expression.

    * * *

    After leaving the vige, Kiri walked for some time before suddenly turning back and asking quietly:

    ¡°What do you think?¡±

    Gale and Borg took turns answering.

    ¡°Well, he''s definitely different from what the rumors said about him.¡±

    ¡°Even at Level 3, he feels like he has the same air as those guys from the Four Great Towers.¡±

    ¡°¡­So you think so too.¡±

    Kiri bit her lower lip lightly.

    It had been a while since she¡¯d met someone among her peers who felt like a towering mountain to ovee.

    ¡®At just Level 3, he had the strength to face a lich. He¡¯sposed enough to manage crises calmly, with leadership and a spirit of sacrifice. And from the way he talks, he seemed thoughtful too.¡¯

    On top of all that, he had a way of drawing people to his side with his words and atmosphere.

    At least from what she had observed, there didn¡¯t seem to be any major ws.

    ording to the ck Tower¡¯s intelligence, Oscar Crucian was supposed to be an arrogant problem child with a notorious reputation for draining resources.

    But the person she had met waspletely different.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

    ¡°Rumors really can¡¯t be trusted.¡±

    Who would have thought Oscar Crucian would turn out to be someone like that?

    And those two by his side as well¡ªdespite their downfall, perhaps the Four Great Towers truly were a cut above.

    The wall she had to surpass seemed taller than she had expected.

    Hearing her sigh, Gale and Borg spoke cautiously.

    ¡°Kiri, how about borrowing their help to solve the problems in our tower?¡±

    ¡°Seeing them in action, they seem reliable. If we¡¯re going to ally with someone, wouldn¡¯t they be better than the other Four Great Towers?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    Kiri replied firmly, her expression conflicted.

    ¡°That¡¯s something we need to resolve internally as much as possible. If, in the end, we fail¡­¡±

    Then, perhaps, someone else¡¯s help would be absolutely necessary.

    Turning her body, she said:

    ¡°That¡¯s a matter for another time. For now¡­¡±

    The immediate focus was on preparing for the Mage¡¯s Night.

    That alone was more than enough to upy her.

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 Chapter 97

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    Chapter 97: The Sage of the Stars (1)

    Theforting coziness of the room, returning after several days, was short-lived.

    Someone knocked on the door.

    Thinking they¡¯d leave if he pretended not to be there, he ignored it, but a familiar voice called out to him.

    0Strange. I was sure he came back.

    There was no mistaking it¡ªLena White.

    She wouldn¡¯te looking for him without a reason.

    ¡®In other words, this must be work-rted.¡¯

    Dragging his tired body to the door, he opened it, and Lena¡¯s face lit up with a startled, rabbit-like expression.

    ¡°You were here after all. I thought you weren¡¯t inside because you didn¡¯t respond even after I knocked for ages.¡±

    ¡°Normally, if there¡¯s no answer after two or three knocks, wouldn¡¯t you just leave?¡±

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that seem rude? And impatient, too.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡­.¡±

    Lost for words, Oscar guided her to the sofa and asked,

    ¡°So, what brings you here?¡±

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s nothing too major. The military contacted us. They want to purchase our potions.¡±

    ¡°The military? Surely not...¡±

    Noticing his narrowing eyes, Lena quickly interjected,

    ¡°I know what you¡¯re thinking, but I haven¡¯t contacted them since I warned you not to stir things up with the Blue Tower unnecessarily.¡±

    ¡°So, they approached us first about buying potions?¡±

    ¡°Yep.¡±

    ¡°...That¡¯s unexpected.¡±

    Oscar muttered with a frown.

    The military¡¯s key positions were dominated by the Red Tower, so it wouldn¡¯t be far-fetched to assume their influence was behind this decision.

    ¡®Then why are they trying to do business with us, even if it means alienating the Blue Tower?¡¯

    Besides, didn¡¯t they refuse thest time he asked?

    He looked at Lena and asked,

    ¡°Has anything happened recently to cause a rift between the Red Tower and the Blue Tower?¡±

    ¡°Not that I know of. If anything, I heard the Blue Tower has been amodating the Red Tower moretely, perhaps because of us.¡±

    ¡°...Then it¡¯s even harder to understand.¡±

    ¡°Did you hear the recent news about the Red Tower acquiring the rights for arge-scale monster extermination?¡±

    It was his first time hearing about it.

    He¡¯d been too busy handling variousmissionstely to pay attention to other news.

    ¡°No, I haven¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Themander of that extermination force is none other than the ¡®Mage of Ashes,¡¯ Lloyd Schultz.¡±

    What?

    Oscar, stunned, asked in disbelief,

    ¡°Did you just say Lloyd Schultz?¡±

    ¡°Yep, the one we know better as the ¡®traitor.¡¯ He¡¯s the one who contacted us directly.¡±

    ¡°......¡±

    Lloyd Schultz.

    Once his first disciple in a previous life, now a student of the Red Tower¡¯s master.

    Lena spected,

    ¡°Maybe he felt a bit guilty about betraying us? It seems like he¡¯s trying to look out for us in his own way.¡±

    ¡°......¡±

    That couldn¡¯t be it.

    Lloyd wasn¡¯t the type to feel such shallow emotions like guilt.

    To put it kindly, he was pragmatic. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

    To put it bluntly... no, Oscar decided not to dwell on that.

    ¡°He did, however, attach one suspicious condition.¡±

    ¡°What condition?¡±

    ¡°You.¡±

    ¡°......¡±

    Oscar flinched.

    ¡°Does he seem to know about me?¡±

    ¡°Yep. He knows you¡¯re the one who developed the cure for the Cadena flu and several potions. He mentioned needing someone with extensive alchemical knowledge. As a condition for a long-term contract, he requested that you personally deliver the first batch.¡±

    ¡°Ah...¡±

    So, he singled him out solely for his alchemical expertise?

    It wasn¡¯t as if Lloyd could have guessed his true identity.

    ¡°If he needs alchemical knowledge, it sounds like there¡¯s a problem during their preparations for the extermination campaign.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I think too. It must be an issue they don¡¯t want to disclose to the Blue Tower.¡±

    It was unlikely to be something as trivial as food poisoning.

    Such minor issues would¡¯ve been solved with over-the-counter remedies by now.

    Oscar made up his mind.

    ¡°This seems like a great opportunity. Let¡¯s use this chance to establish a contract with the military and elerate our business expansion by selling advanced potions. What does the Deputy Tower Master think about it?¡±

    ¡°Of course, he¡¯s opposed. He doesn¡¯t like the idea of sending you to the extermination force.¡±

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s understandable.¡±

    Despite its name, an extermination force was essentially going to war with monsters.

    It wasn¡¯t normal for a Level 3 mage to be sent to such perilous conditions.

    ¡®He must feel uneasy.¡¯

    To outsiders, it might look like the White Tower was exploiting a young mage for profit by sending him to a battlefield.

    But as for Oscar himself, he didn¡¯t mind.

    If anything, he was a little excited.

    ¡®The battlefield...¡¯

    If the White Tower was his home, then the battlefield could be his second home.

    And since Lloyd was the one calling for him, he had to go, no matter what.

    Oscar spoke firmly,

    ¡°I¡¯ll try convincing the Deputy Tower Master myself.¡±

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    * * *

    ¡°Wee back! Did everything go well?¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master, Hamel, warmly greeted him, even preparing tea personally.

    Oscar bowed politely and handed over his report.

    ¡°Yes, here is a report detailing my recent activities.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s see...¡±

    As the Deputy Tower Master scanned through the report, his eyes suddenly stopped.

    Oscar didn¡¯t need to ask to know which word had caught his attention.

    ¡°...A lich? This wasn¡¯t just some simple undead causing trouble, was it?¡±

    ¡°No, but as I detailed, it wasn¡¯t an extraordinarily powerful one. It must¡¯ve been weakened by being awakened prematurely. Of course, the ck Tower¡¯s sealing ritual also helped diminish its strength.¡±

    ¡°Thankfully so... still, a lich.¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master heaved a sigh of relief, imagining the potential disaster if the lich had fully awakened.

    ¡°I¡¯ll need to personally extend my gratitude to the ck Tower for their assistance.¡±

    ¡°That would be a good idea.¡±

    Without their help, subduing the lich would¡¯ve been impossible.

    After finishing the report, the Deputy Tower Master smiled faintly.

    ¡°Quite interesting. Above all, I can sense that Oscar¡¯s perspective on the ck Tower has changed.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. They were better than I thought.¡±

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be nice if they thought the same about us?¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master, holding the report, nodded.

    ¡°You must be tired. Don¡¯t overexert yourself for now; take a good rest. Until the ¡®Night of the Mages¡¯ arrives, it would be best to focus on training.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡­Earlier, Senior Lena visited my room.¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master paused while putting the report into a drawer and let out a faint sigh.

    ¡°¡­¡­Bringing that up in front of me¡ªdoes that mean you want to go?¡±

    ¡°Yes, there¡¯s no better advertisement than supplying potions to them. The moment our potions bear the military¡¯s certification mark, which values quality above all else, our potion business will grow exponentially.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s true.¡±

    However, the Deputy Tower Master¡¯s face, once furrowed, didn¡¯t smooth out even as time passed.

    Oscar cautiously asked,

    ¡°Is there a specific reason you don¡¯t want me to go to the battlefield?¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it obvious? The monster called the battlefield is best avoided at all costs.¡±

    It was true.

    A battlefield is thest ce anyone should get involved with.

    After fiddling with his teacup for a while, Deputy Tower Master Hamel continued,

    ¡°Do you remember when you said you wanted to revive the potion business, and I gave you money?¡±

    ¡°Yes, since the towercked funds, you invested your personal money. I¡¯m still deeply grateful.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t bring it up to receive your thanks. That money¡­¡­was sent to me by my son.¡±

    Oscar¡¯s expression turned to one of surprise.

    He hadn¡¯t known the Deputy Tower Master had a son.

    ¡®I guess I was so focused on moving forward that I didn¡¯t pay attention to others.¡¯

    Feeling a small sense of guilt, he asked,

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know you had a son. What kind of person is he?¡±

    ¡°¡­¡­Perhaps because he inherited my mediocrity, his talent as a mage was average. Maybe he realized that himself, as he decided to be a soldier. He said he¡¯d expand the influence of the White Tower within the military.¡±

    ¡°Oh, so has he established himself there by now?¡±

    Oscar¡¯s reasoning was simple.

    It would be hard for an ordinary soldier¡¯s sry to send his father a hefty sum like 30,000 bels.

    But the Deputy Tower Master shook his head slowly.

    ¡°Unfortunately, that wasn¡¯t the case. One rainy day, all I received was a severed dog tag and a letter containing his death benefit. Not even a scrap of the clothing he wore was found.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡­.¡±

    ¡°Apparently, he encountered demons while patrolling the Red Mountains. It was an area where demons hadn¡¯t been spotted for over ten years, but I suppose he was terribly unlucky.¡±

    Oscar couldn¡¯t find any words to say.

    He had never met a parent who spoke so calmly about the death of their child.

    The atmosphere in the room suddenly felt heavy.

    ¡°That¡¯s why I don¡¯t want to send you or any White Tower mages to the battlefield. It¡¯s a ce where you can lose your life simply because of bad luck.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡­.¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master looked at him withposed eyes.

    ¡°The White Tower is doing well as it is. There¡¯s no need to go to such a dangerous ce.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡­.¡±

    There wasn¡¯t a single w in what he said.

    The battlefield was filled with dangers, and the White Tower was performing just fine without it.

    ¡®But¡­¡­ the White Tower I remember, the one I experienced, was always the best.¡¯

    Knowing the brilliance of those times and vividly recalling the moments of its decline¡ª

    Oscar wasn¡¯t content to staycent and stagnant.

    Most importantly, Lloyd, his first disciple, was calling out to him.

    ¡°It¡¯s not like I¡¯ll be drafted as a soldier. It shouldn¡¯t be that dangerous.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡­Haa.¡±

    The Deputy Tower Master let out a deep sigh.

    ¡°You¡¯re really stubborn, Oscar. Lately, it seems you¡¯ve be even more so than before.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no need to apologize. It¡¯s our shorings that have led to this situation.¡±

    After fiddling with his teacup for a moment, he presented apromise.

    ¡°Then let¡¯s do this. If you really want to go, I¡¯ll set a condition.¡±

    ¡°What condition?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a month left before the subjugation team departs. If you can be an intermediate mage within that time, I won¡¯t oppose you any further.¡±

    Reaching level 4 in just one month¡ªit wasn¡¯t a condition; it was practically a refusal.

    A mage who had just reached level 3 would typically take 3¨C4 years to advance to level 4.

    Yet Oscar nodded without hesitation.

    ¡°Understood.¡±

    He was already keenly aware that his current capabilities were insufficient.

    For now, he was barely managing to get by, relying on his high mana reserves as his main strength.

    ¡®But considering the uing Night of the Mages, I can¡¯t stay where I am.¡¯

    After witnessing the prowess of Kiri Gloria and the ck Tower mages, he was convinced.

    The mages of the other four Great Towers would undoubtedly be even stronger.

    ¡®Then the quickest way for me to grow stronger is¡­¡­.¡¯

    There was only one clear path.

    It was time to meet the Sage of the Stars.

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 Chapter 98

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    Chapter 98: Sage of the Stars (2)

    ¡°Training, you say?¡±

    Bang! Bang!

    Inside the intense heat of the workshop on the 13th floor, Hagor paused his hammering and asked again.

    ¡°Yes. I thought I¡¯d inform you in advance since it might take some time.¡±

    ¡°Hm, well, I suppose so. You are a mage, after all.¡±

    ¡°¡­Excuse me?¡±

    Hagor nced at him, amused, as Oscar stared back in bafflement.

    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t get me wrong. Of course, I know mages and knights spend their lives training. But you¡ªhow do I put this¡ªyou don¡¯t seem like someone who needs training. Thinking about it now, you¡¯re just a level-three rookie. I¡¯m not sure why I felt that way about you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m almost offended, you know?¡±

    It was likely because, for his age, he knew far too much.

    Knowledge is like water in a transparent bottle; no matter how much you try to hide it, its ripples inevitably show.

    ¡°You¡¯ll have grown by the next time you¡¯re here.¡±

    ¡°Yes, and this one will have changed a lot too.¡±

    Oscar muttered as he looked up at the massive framework of the airship.

    Since the Wind Tribe¡¯s triumphant sess, the dwarves had begun working on the construction of an airship immediately.

    This was because the White Night Festival was only a few months away.

    ¡®Considering the time needed toplete the ship and run field tests, it¡¯s going to be tight¡­¡¯

    If anyone could manage, it would be the dwarves.

    They were the world¡¯s finest craftsmen.

    If they failed, it meant no one could seed.

    ¡°Take care of yourself while you¡¯re away.¡±

    ¡°Of course. Goodbye for now.¡±

    Leaving the 13th floor, Oscar headed to the outdoor training grounds.

    He¡¯d heard the ones he was looking for were there.

    ¡°You¡¯re too slow! Is that all you¡¯ve got?¡±

    ¡°Shut up. It¡¯s just¡­ you¡¯re ridiculously fast!¡±

    Oscar nodded as he observed Killian and Veronica sparring.

    ¡®They¡¯re both improving rapidly.¡¯

    Killian¡¯s attacks had be more precisepared to their time in Baran City.

    Veronica¡¯s magic was far more potent than what he¡¯d seen back in Vince Manor.

    ¡®When Killian tries to close the distance, Veronica counters with a barrage of spells.¡¯

    At a nce, it might seem like Veronica, capable of rapid incantation, had the upper hand.

    However, the training ground was a confined space, limiting her freedom.

    ¡ºSong of the Wolf.¡»

    Killian¡¯s silver ws shot out like a spring, tearing through Veronica¡¯s magic quite literally.

    Feeling the danger, Veronica instinctively stepped back, but¡ª

    ¡°Ah?¡±

    She stepped off the edge of the training ground into empty air and began to fall.

    ¡°Wind.¡±

    Whoosh!

    A gust of wind cushioned her fall, and Oscar approached her.

    Her face turned bright red, perhaps embarrassed by the clumsy disy.

    ¡°W-what? When did you get here?¡±

    ¡°Oscar, did you see that? I won.¡±

    ¡°Are you joking? If this were anywhere but the training grounds, I¡¯d have won!¡±

    ¡°Hmm. Hard to say.¡±

    Oscar had thought their rtionship improved after their visit to Hendel, but their bickering was unchanged.

    ¡®But this too must be part of how fledgling youth grow closer.¡¯

    When he smiled warmly at the two of them, he was met with appalled reactions.

    ¡°What¡¯s with that creepy smile?¡±

    ¡°Oscar, you¡¯re being gross.¡±

    ¡°¡­That¡¯s harsh.¡±

    Shrugging off their sudden criticism, Oscar began to speak.

    ¡°Killian, I know you have great reflexes and excel in closebat, but your fighting style leans too heavily on physicalbat. Training should focus on your weaknesses, not just your strengths. Don¡¯t neglect practicing magic.¡±

    ¡°Veronica, rapid casting is certainly a powerful weapon, but spamming spells thoughtlessly isn¡¯t all that threatening to your opponent. Try diversifying your magic and gradually cornering your opponent by limiting their options.¡±

    Wow, what a masterss.

    What kind of luck did these kids have to get such advice for free?

    ¡°I hate studying magic. It gives me a headache.¡±

    ¡°...Easy for you to say. What would someone weaker than me know?¡±

    Ah, these problem children.

    Still, Oscar knew they would train harder than anyone despite their words.

    If not, they wouldn¡¯t have grown as strong as they had.

    ¡°Anyway, I¡¯ll be away for a while, so don¡¯t cause any trouble.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a strange thing to say. I¡¯ve never caused trouble in my life.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re hrious. You¡¯re always the one who gets us into trouble. We just get dragged into it.¡±

    Oscar stopped short, realizing they might be right.

    If the same person was present at every incident, maybe it was true.

    ¡°Ahem.¡±

    Unable to refute, Oscar left the White Tower with a sheepish expression.

    * * *

    The Sage of the Stars¡ªcountless rumors surrounded this enigmatic figure.

    Some said it was a creation of the Four Great Towers, others that it was a mage of an ancient civilization, or even a dragon.

    Those rumors faded after the Sage disappeared from the world.

    ¡®What¡¯s certain is that for centuries, the Sage has aided humans.¡¯

    Any mage who met the Sage would learn at least one spell.

    This simple rule had endured for hundreds of years.

    ¡®Even scouring the records of the White Tower¡¯s prime reveals nothing about its true nature.¡¯

    Though discovered after the age of the Towers began, the Sage¡¯s existence seemed to date back to a far more ancient time.

    This made its identity even more obscure.

    ¡®What kind of being teaches magic without asking for anything in return?¡¯

    Some revered the Sage as a god.N?v(el)B\\jnn

    Indeed, the snowy mountains where the Sage resided, Tunggrim, had a considerable number of devoted followers.

    ¡°We¡¯ve arrived.¡±

    At the coachman¡¯s words, Oscar alighted from the carriage.

    He hadn¡¯t ridden in the carriage to conserve energy but because the entire region consisted of unpaved roads.

    ¡°¡­Whew.¡±

    As he exhaled, a white puff of breath rose like frost.

    The snowy mountain region of Tunggrim, reachable after a five-day carriage ride from Sirin, was known for its mana abundance.

    This ce, also called the Starlight Mountain, exuded a unique energy that Oscar felt every time he visited.

    ¡°Ah, c-cold¡­¡±

    The coachman, who had stepped off the carriage without much thought, shivered as he crossed his arms and hunched his shoulders.

    The biting air of Starlight Mountain was so frigid that it immediately made one long to leave the area.

    ¡°M-Mage, do you really intend to climb that mountain in this weather? It¡¯s at an altitude of 9,200 meters!¡±

    About 5.7 miles, he calcted.

    Oscar nodded as he gazed at the snowy, white mountain.

    ¡°I came here to climb it, so climb it I shall.¡±

    ¡°Please, take care of yourself. Should I return here every five days to check on you?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯d appreciate it.¡±

    ¡°Then, having received the advance payment, I¡¯lle back a maximum of six times over 30 days.¡±

    ¡°See you then.¡±

    No one knew when he would descend from the mountain.

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    In his past life, it had taken him only two days, but there was no guarantee it would be the same this time.

    ¡®Especially since¡­ there might be problems just meeting him this time.¡¯

    Dressed in a coat enchanted with a warming spell, along with a mask and goggles, Oscar began his ascent.

    After about two hours of climbing, snow and sleet began to scatter down.

    ¡®¡­Definitely harder than before.¡¯

    In his past life, he had been a Level 6 mage when he came here.

    Naturally, he had been far stronger and had flown up the mountain using a Flight spell.

    ¡°...¡±

    After five more hours of climbing, his feet sank deep into the snow with every step.

    Breaking through snow up to his calves as he climbed was no easy task.

    Whoosh!

    To make matters worse, the biting wind periodically tore through his tightly wrapped clothing, stealing away his body heat.

    ¡°...¡±

    How long had he been walking since then?

    He began to sense traces of mana nearby.

    One, two, three... The number quickly grew to thirteen.

    However, the blinding sleet obscured their figures.

    ¡®...Devotees?¡¯

    The mages living on this mountain mostly worshiped the Sage of the Stars.

    Of course, few among them had ever met the Sage in person.

    ¡®Most of them linger here, clinging to a faint hope that the Sage might grant them an audience.¡¯

    However, there was a faster, albeit more ruthless, way to meet the Sage of the Stars.

    ¡®Stealing someone else¡¯s invitation.¡¯

    Rumors said that the trials for those who possessed such invitations began the moment they set foot on the mountain.

    ¡®¡­This is different from my past life as well.¡¯

    Back then, there had been no attempts to attack him, nor anyone daring to approach.

    At most, they had observed him from a distance with greedy eyes.

    ¡®Ha.¡¯

    But now, he must have seemedughably weak.

    Every approaching individual made no effort to hide their hostility.

    Their only desire was to kill him and im the invitation as spoils of war.

    ¡®Not that I can fight all of them.¡¯

    Drawing upon his mana, Oscar mimicked the sound of a gunshot.

    Bang!

    A sharp crack echoed through the snowy mountain as Oscar copsed into the snow with a scream.

    ¡°Ugh¡­ Gah...¡±

    His heartbeat slowed to the faint rhythm of a dying man, and his body convulsed lightly.

    The mountain remained eerily quiet, the only sound being the snow and sleet falling around him.

    ¡°Invitation... The invitation!¡±

    Unable to endure the oppressive silence, one of them moved first.

    As he reached for Oscar¡¯s supposed corpse, an icy spear suddenly pierced his side.

    ¡°Guh... Guhh...¡±

    That was the cue for the others to act.

    The devotees began to stealthily hunt one another, their movements veiled by the storm.

    ¡°...¡±

    Suppressing his presence, Oscar focused on the shifting mana energies around him.

    ¡®Twelve, eleven... Oh, a love shot? Nine left.¡¯

    He kept his eyes on two figures in particr among the dwindling numbers.

    ¡®Both are Level 4 mages.¡¯

    They were clearly a cut above the rest; the other devotees either fled or died trying to escape them.

    ¡°It¡¯s just you and me now.¡±

    ¡°Ha, stating the obvious.¡±

    Without hesitation, the two menpleted their spells.

    One hurled a spear of ice, while the other fired a silenced gun through magical means.

    ¡°Damn it¡­¡±

    The victor was the ice mage.

    Smiling magnanimously, he addressed his fallen rival.

    ¡°If you¡¯re reborn, don¡¯t rely on petty weapons like that. A mage should use magic, after all.¡±

    Surveying the blood-stained snow, the ice mage approached the young mage¡¯s body.

    With each step closer, his heart pounded furiously in his chest.

    ¡®I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m finally about to im this invitation.¡¯

    It had been over four years since he had made this mountain his home, all for a chance to meet the Sage.

    Few ever climbed this mountain, and those who did were no easy prey.

    ¡®But now...¡¯

    The ultimate victory was his.

    As he flipped over the body buried in the snow, the young mage¡¯s voice rang out.

    ¡°Bang.¡±

    A small hole appeared in the ice mage¡¯s forehead.

    His face shed with disbelief before he copsed lifelessly onto the snow.

    Oscar stood up, brushing off the snow from his coat as though nothing had happened.

    He resumed his ascent up the mountain without sparing a nce at the scene behind him.

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