Kellam, a wizard from the Green Tower, and the man who had witnessed Penia, once notorious as the “rogue” of the Blue Tower, behave like a meek lamb in front of Count Palatio, was still processing what he’d seen the day before.
Penia had even apologized to Milan, Kellam’s apprentice, and a fellow wizard.
But Kellam, a 5th-tier wizard, had his suspicions about Count Palatio from the beginning.
Specifically, he doubted the count’s strength.
Of course, Kellam hadn’t yet reached the 6th tier, where the “Eye” is opened, allowing one to fully grasp another’s strength with just a glance.
However, even at the 5th tier, his senses were sharp enough to detect a person’s magic power.
And in Kellam’s eyes, Count Palatio’s magical energy was ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) too weak.
Kellam knew that knowledge was essential for wizards — no matter how large one’s mana pool, it meant nothing without the knowledge to wield magic.
However, no matter how exceptional one’s knowledge was, it wouldn’t be possible to use magic if their inherent magical power was too small.
Naturally, this raised questions in Kellam’s mind.
Was it possible that the rumors surrounding the count’s strength were all exaggerated, created by the man himself to elevate his own reputation?
Kellam had almost reconsidered his doubts after witnessing Penia’s sudden change in behavior, but today, at the arena, his suspicions were confirmed again.
There was no mistake.
Count Palatio’s magical power was far too meager to be the subject of such grandiose rumors.
And it wasn’t just Kellam who harbored these doubts.
“Hmm, no matter how I look at it, I can’t sense much strength from him. What do you think?”
“I feel the same way. His mana pool is… far too small for someone of a high tier.”
“Tch, so it was all nonsense. Looks like he fabricated it all to build up his prestige.”
“Pity. His reputation will be completely shattered after this friendly match reveals everything.”
Just as Kellam had thought, the other professor-level wizards at the 5th tier, gathered with him, expressed their doubts after sensing Count Palatio’s magic.
But before the arena was engulfed in the frozen wasteland, all the wizards fell silent.
Even the lower-tier wizards, who had been watching with curious expressions, became quiet.
On the contrary, the 5th-tier wizards who had been casting suspicious glances at Alon now stood dumbfounded with their mouths agape, watching the unfolding events.
Yet the emotions the wizards felt were not all the same.
The lower-tier wizards gazed at Alon’s magic with awe and reverence, while the higher-tier wizards were utterly shocked.
It all happened in an instant, but they knew exactly what Alon had done.
“Composite magic…! And more than three spells… at once!”
Kellam’s jaw dropped.
Of course, composite magic was something even he could perform, and any 5th-tier wizard present could do the same.
However, to flawlessly execute three or more spells at once, without a single error, was something no one could guarantee.
“How in the world did he do it?”
By now, the 5th-tier wizards had already erased the thought that Count Palatio’s magic was insignificant.
Instead, their minds were filled with the same curiosity and respect for Alon that had driven them to rise to the 5th tier.
And just as all eyes were focused on the arena:
Alon quietly muttered the word, forming a seal with his hand.
Dozens of small spheres, each about the size of a marble, began forming across the entire arena.
The spheres, which had been hovering in mid-air, began to slowly rotate clockwise.
Just as the wizards were wondering about the purpose of these spinning spheres—
Baruch, who had been startled by Alon’s magic, finally snapped out of it and hurriedly began preparing his own spells.
If he failed to act now, he realized that not only would he fail to expand his influence, but he could end up embarrassing himself, so he hurriedly prepared a spell.
However, the other wizards either expressed confusion or frowned as they watched Baruch’s spell preparation.
It was understandable, as the spell Baruch was preparing to use was one of the Violet Tower’s main offensive spells, a blatant killing spell not typically used in friendly matches.
Yet, Baruch never got to fire his spell.
All the wizards stared blankly, recalling what had just happened.
In the very moment when Baruch had been preparing his spell, one of the rotating small spheres suddenly burst, turning Baruch into an ice statue.
“…Uh, um… The winner of this friendly match is Alon Palatio…!”
The referee wizard announced in a bewildered voice.
“That was truly remarkable.”
“By the way, what was that seal you just used? Could it be an ancient spell?”
“He used composite magic, but how exactly did he structure that arrangement?”
Immediately after the friendly match ended, Alon, who had ascended to the stands leaving the dumbfounded Baruch behind, was bombarded with questions from the wizards.
Of course, there were no wizards who dared to break the unwritten rule of not asking about independent magic, but the flood of questions made Alon realize something surprising.
Through the conversation, he came to understand that the wizards had no knowledge of the seals or phrases he used.
Alon had been aware that the seals and phrases he used were relics of a long-forgotten era.
However, he hadn’t expected there to be absolutely no information on them at all, which made the discovery even more intriguing.
As he absorbed this newfound realization while conversing with the wizards, Alon’s attention shifted.
“…Wait, what did you say? 3rd tier?”
“…Did you just say 3rd tier?”
“There’s no need for modesty, claiming to be at the 3rd tier.”
“That’s impossible.”
The wizards treated Alon’s admission of his tier as a joke.
Leaving behind the bemused wizards, Alon exited the arena with a sigh, though the moment was brief.
He began fiddling with the ring on his left index finger, an item in the Psychedelia game called “Memory of the Black Eye(Ho Gaftu),” with a satisfied expression.
‘As expected, it’s quite useful.’
The ability of “Memory of the Black Eye” was simple.
It allowed the user to store one of their spells and use it later with a slight boost in power.
In short, it was like an enhanced memory-keeper spell, storing a spell for future use with added amplification, and for Alon, it was highly efficient.
Due to the restriction he faced, Alon could only cast five spells, and the harsh environment where he had to use one of those spells was a significant disadvantage.
After using that spell, he would be left with only two usable spells.
But by using “Memory of the Black Eye,” Alon could now use all five spells in combat situations.
‘And the spell amplification is quite strong as well.’
He recalled that when he had used a spell earlier, the effect of the harsh cold felt at least twice as powerful as usual, then quickly shifted his thoughts.
‘It seems that the [Glory of the Snowy Mountains] is quite good.’
Reflecting on the spell he had just used, based on the phrase “Glory of the Snowy Mountains,” Alon couldn’t help but think once again about the mysterious “thing.”
When “it” had first informed him of that phrase, Alon hadn’t fully grasped the meaning.
At the time, the phrases in his mind were understood only as tools to enhance his magic, without a deeper understanding.
However, after using the spell based on “Glory of the Snowy Mountains” several times since returning from the desert, he had recently come to understand what kind of effect that phrase generally had.
‘When the manifestation of the materialized magic ends, it freezes the surrounding air.’
Unlike twisting or distorting the nature of the magic itself, this effect seemed more like it was touching upon a fundamental law, and Alon had used this to implement his spell today.
‘Is this what ‘it’ was referring to?’
He recalled hearing that “a phrase is like a key that can open certain doors to the rules designated in this world.”
…He found this increasingly fascinating.
The more Alon learned about phrases and words, the more his magic advanced at a rapid pace, fueling his growing curiosity. Glancing outside the tower, he noticed the view.
The sun was just now hanging on the mountainside, casting the sky in the colors of sunset.
‘It’s about time, I suppose.’
As Alon watched the slowly sinking sun, he remembered the other item he needed to retrieve from the central tower today and turned to leave.
The first night of the society.
“Are you really… a 3rd-tier wizard?”
“Oh… I’ll keep that in mind then.”
Liyan, who seemed utterly disbelieving of Alon’s words, left with a doubtful expression.
“I know for sure that you’re a 3rd-tier wizard.”
“Yes, I absolutely know that you’re a 3rd-tier wizard… absolutely, without a doubt!”
After Penia emphasized Alon’s tier three times and left, Alon noticed that it was late at night and headed to the library, confirming that the moon was already in the sky.
With a low, resonating hum, he arrived at the empty, silent library again.
The eerie atmosphere was enhanced by the absence of lights, with only the blue moon in the sky casting light over the library.
As he entered the library, a deep voice echoed in his ears:
[It seems that someone has managed to solve my riddle at just the right time.]
The voice’s solemn resonance caused Alon to shiver involuntarily.
It wasn’t that he sensed anything in particular—just an instinctual trembling.
Like how the weak naturally tremble before the strong, simply hearing the voice evoked a creeping fear from deep within.
Alon answered, forcibly suppressing his rising fear.
After all, the item he needed could only be obtained by meeting her.
[Oh, impressive. Despite hearing my voice, you didn’t panic. You’ve held your ground.]
As the blue magical energy began gathering in front of Alon, slowly taking shape, he felt sweat forming on his palms.
He knew exactly who was about to appear before him.
‘The first human to reach the 8th tier after the Age of Forgotten Gods.’
‘A wizard whom every magician revered and admired during her lifetime, known as the “First Chalice.”‘
And to the beings who once wreaked havoc on the world, she was known as the “Eternal Terror,” a slayer feared and worshipped.
“…The Archmage Heinkel.”
As Alon muttered her name, the blue magical form solidified rapidly.
Before him stood a woman wearing a pure white pointed hat, her blue eyes visible underneath, and a relaxed smile on her face.
To the wizards, she was the “First Chalice.”
To the beings that had once thrown the world into chaos, she was the “Eternal Terror.”
Alon swallowed nervously behind his calm expression.
While Heinkel wasn’t an enemy, if he made even a slight mistake in his answers, he could trigger her infamous temper, which might result in his immediate death.
Thus, Alon mentally reviewed the things he absolutely must not say or bring up in front of her.
The first words the archmage, who exuded an overwhelming aura just by appearing with her relaxed smile, spoke as she gazed at Alon were:
A sound of terror, as though she had seen something horrifying.
A question formed in Alon’s mind.

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