A massive magic circle was etched into the wall of the Ivory Tower’s tenth floor. It was hailed as the most mysterious formula in human history, an unparalleled enigma that remained undeciphered even after a thousand years. Its true identity was a technology from the magitech era known as ’Transfer Magic,’ capable of moving the entire hundred-story tower to any location.
The circle had been damaged during the Gate incident three hundred years ago, but its restoration had been a long-cherished project of the Ivory Tower. After investing countless hours and resources, they had finally succeeded.
"Heat transfer values are normal!"
"Confirm the purified water levels!"
The tenth floor of the Tower of Time housed the Transfer Magic Restoration Center. Scholars scurried about, adjusting the magic circle’s settings to prepare for the transfer.
"This is the Transfer Magic Restoration Center! Please respond!" one man shouted into a communication crystal. Realizing it was hopeless, he shook his head. "Director! We’ve lost contact with the Tower Master. It seems he may have left the tower..."
The center’s director scowled.
"Impossible. He was definitely on the hundredth floor."
"The Tower of Time’s barrier is blocking external communications. It’s the only conclusion I can draw... I’ll keep trying!"
The director let out a groan.
’What in the world is happening in this tower?’
A new communication crystal began to hum. The scholar who had been trying to reach Bermude quickly picked it up.
"This is Serne Aindark. Respond," a voice crackled from the crystal.
The scholar and everyone around him instantly tensed. It was a call from the infamous Serne Aindark, the Tower Master’s daughter and official heir.
"I-It’s an honor, Miss Serne! This is the Transfer Magic Restoration Center!"
"These are my father’s orders. Proceed with the plan and transfer the Tower of Time to Kizen’s Roc Island."
The scholar gestured to his colleagues, who scrambled back to their positions. He bowed repeatedly as he answered, "Yes! We will follow your command!"
The director, listening from a distance, narrowed his eyes. ’Why is his daughter giving the orders? And more importantly... how is Serne still alive?’ The scholars here only knew fragmented pieces of the truth; most of them were simply following orders. But the director, Hesion, was a confidant personally placed by the Tower Master. He was aware of the entire situation. He knew the original plan was to sacrifice Meirin, and that Serne herself had volunteered to release the ’Absolute Seal.’
"One more thing," Serne’s voice came through. "What are the current transfer coordinates for Roc Island?"
"They’re set to the Kizen school grounds, miss."
"Change them. A short distance from the school is an area called the ’Forbidden Forest.’ Set the coordinates to its center."
The scholar blinked in confusion, but questioning his superiors was a luxury he couldn’t afford. His duty was to follow orders; they would be the ones to bear the responsibility.
"Underst—"
"Wait, I’ll take it." Director Hesion stepped forward and took the crystal. "This is Hesion, director of the transfer center. Miss Serne."
"Ah, it’s been a while, Hesion."
"Where is the Tower Master? Why are you giving the orders?"
"Girdon went on a rampage. My father entrusted command to me and went to deal with it."
Her voice was perfectly calm, but Hesion found it all the more suspicious. However, with so many people listening, he couldn’t openly ask about the ’Frozen Clock’ or how she was still alive.
"Miss, we suddenly lost contact with the Tower Master."
"He must be in the middle of a battle. Girdon is no easy opponent."
"Our center only follows the orders of the Tower Master. When he returns, we will contact you then—"
"A mere dog raised by my father."
Hesion flinched. Though it was only a voice, her tone carried an authority that was difficult to defy.
"Just because my father showed you a little affection, you forget your place and dare to bare your fangs? Shall I come down to the tenth floor right now and see if you can still hold your head high and squawk so proudly?"
The surrounding scholars shot panicked looks at the director, signaling him to stop. Everyone in the Ivory Tower knew of Serne’s cruel nature. Stories of those who got on her bad side disappearing without a trace, only to be found as broken wrecks in some squalid slum, were common.
"Business is business, miss." Hesion was trembling as well, but the situation was too suspicious. He couldn’t back down.
"Director Hesion."
"Yes."
"Come up to the hundredth floor to report in person. The use of the magic circle elevator is forbidden. Crawl up the stairs on all fours like a dog."
Hesion’s face turned beet red. His subordinates didn’t know what to do and avoided his gaze, wanting no part in this power struggle.
"That’s an order."
"Understood." The director put down the crystal and began to walk away.
"And the person who was on the communication earlier?" Serne’s voice called out.
A scholar scurried over and picked up the crystal.
"Yes, yes! Please speak!"
"I’m appointing you as the interim director. If you succeed in transferring the tower, that position will be yours from now on."
The man’s eyes filled with greed. This was a chance to join Serne’s faction, which was said to have the brightest future in the Ivory Tower—an opportunity he could not afford to miss. Paying no mind to his director crawling away on all fours, the scholar shouted, "I will do my best!"
"Prepare to transfer the tower immediately and stand by."
"Yes!"
As expected of a necromancer specializing in mental manipulation, she played the organization and its people like a fiddle with nothing more than her tongue. The center moved according to her instructions.
"Output raised to maximum!"
"Refinement magic ready for activation!"
"We can transfer at any moment!" the new interim director reported into the crystal. "This is the Transfer Magic Restoration Center! Miss Serne, if you would just give the order—"
’KABOOM!’
A wave of crimson lava surged forward, incinerating the scholar and the crystal without a trace. The molten rock instantly engulfed the tenth floor, sweeping away everyone working on the magic circle. Those who screamed and fled, those who drew their staves—all were swallowed by the lava and melted away.
"Ugh’!" Hesion looked back in terror. In an instant, the entire floor had become a sea of lava. From the molten tide climbing the walls, snake-like heads emerged, their tongues flicking as they surveyed the surroundings.
"Hesion." The lava bubbled, and from within it, a man appeared. It was the Tower Master, Bermude.
"T-Tower Master!"
"The plan has gone awry," Bermude announced. "The Student Council President of Kizen, Simon Polentia, has taken control of the ’Frozen Clock."
"I-Is that really true?"
"From what I just heard, it seems Serne was cooperating with him. Serne is a traitor." He looked up at the ceiling with seething eyes.
"What will you do now?"
"There is nothing to be done. The ’Frozen Clock’ is not a power to be taken lightly. If Simon Polentia truly absorbed that power, he won’t be able to withstand it for long and will go berserk." Bermude turned his head. "When he goes berserk, we proceed as planned. Leave the boy-turned-bomb in the Tower of Time and drop it on Roc Island. When I give the order, you will activate the transfer magic to the original coordinates and get out."
He tossed a new communication crystal to Hesion, who caught it and nodded.
"If Simon Polentia does not go berserk, or if Serne kills him before that happens," Bermude muttered with cold eyes, "I will eliminate everyone involved in this incident. The invited guests, the brats from Kizen, the Ivory Tower Kids, and all the guards and scholars working in the Tower of Time. All of them."
"Th-Then..." the director stammered. "Miss Serne..."
Bermude gave a chilling smile.
"Regardless of how things turn out, I will tear out Serne’s heart with my own hands and chew it to pieces."
’FWOOSH!’
His entire body became like lava and shot into the air. In an instant, he shattered the ceiling and ascended to the eleventh floor, then continued to smash through the ceilings of the twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth floors, moving ever upward.
’As expected, he’s incredible.’ In the Tower Master’s wake, a massive pillar of lava formed.
On the hundredth floor, the only thing that could be heard from the communication crystal Serne held was the sound of bubbling lava. Soon, the crystal on the other end must have been destroyed, for the connection was severed with a crackle of static.
"What a shame," Serne said, clicking her tongue. "We were so close."
"The Tower Master got here faster than we expected. It can’t be helped," Simon said, gripping the hilt of the Greatsword of Ruin, which was embedded in the floor. "I’ve blocked off all the circular staircases throughout the tower. It should buy us some time..."
Serne shook her head.
"A man like him will just smash through the ceiling to get here."
While the two were talking, the Ghost of Time was lost in thought with a grim expression. Simon looked over at him.
"Oh, by the way, how is it? Can you see the tower’s future?"
[Hm? Ah, yes. It seems the darkness is slowly lifting.]
"That’s a relief."
[More importantly, you. You’re using the power of the ’Frozen Clock.’ Are you sure you’re alright?]
Simon shrugged.
"Other than being a little dizzy and nauseous, I don’t think there’s anything wrong. The symptoms are similar to when I used this technique before."
[Hmm. If that’s the case, then that’s a relief.]
Simon stood up, still holding the hilt of the greatsword.
"For now, I’ll try to buy some time by manipulating the dungeon. Serne, in the meantime, you focus on recovering as much as you can."
"I’ll try," she replied. It was a miracle she was even alive after releasing the Absolute Seal, but without her support, they couldn’t last long.
"I’ll try to stop him by controlling the dungeon first," Simon muttered. "If that doesn’t work, I’ll have to bring out the legion..."
’Ping—’
Suddenly, Simon’s vision flipped upside down. The world seemed to split into three, and he collapsed to the floor, gagging.
"Simon?" Serne cried out.
[Just as I thought. There’s no way he could handle such immense power without any problems,] the Ghost of Time said, quickly moving forward.
Simon fell to one knee.
[Let go of that sword!] the ghost urged. [Controlling the dungeon isn’t the problem right now!]
"I-I can’t...!" Simon gasped, his eyes wide. "It won’t come off! It’s like my hand is stuck to the sword!"
A series of golden circles unfolded from the Greatsword of Ruin, which crackled and emitted golden sparks.
"Simon?"
"Don’t come any closer!" he yelled. He tried with all his might to pull his hand away, but the golden circles passed through the sword and wrapped around his wrist like shackles. Soon, the golden rings had taken over his head, chest, arms, and legs.
’Tick-tock-tick-tock-tick-tock-tick-tock-tick-tock!’
The sound of a clock’s hands echoed from all over Simon’s body.
"UGH, AAAARGH!!" he screamed in agony, thrashing about. Through his wildly shaking bangs, his pupils transformed into clock faces, their hands beginning to tick.
[It’s the ’Frozen Clock’!] the Ghost of Time shouted. [It’s going berserk inside the sword and affecting Simon!]
Pier immediately intervened.
[Boy! Can you hear me? Use your thoughts! Share the burden with me!]
Pier tried to support Simon with his consciousness, but the berserk ’Frozen Clock’ was too much to bear, even for the formidable mind of a Legion Commander.
"Krrgh!"
The entire hundredth floor began to shake. Stone fragments fell from the ceiling, and the floor began to crack.
[There’s no choice!] the Ghost of Time shouted. [Destroy this tower right now with your authority as Dungeon Master!]
Simon looked at him, enduring the pain.
"But if I destroy this tower...!"
[It can’t be helped! At this rate, not only me, but all of you will die!]
"Simon!" Serne yelled.
Simon gritted his teeth and closed his eyes.
’Tick-tock-tick-tock-tick-tock-tick-tock-tick-tock-tick-tock!’
He couldn’t muster any strength. It wasn’t a matter of destroying the dungeon; it was difficult to even maintain his consciousness. His body began to turn gray, glitching like a phantom. Every time he moved in agony, afterimages flickered wildly.
"Ah!" Serne gasped.
The afterimages grew larger and more severe, and Simon’s body began to split into multiple forms. The sound of a baby’s cry filled the air. A younger Simon, a simple country boy Simon who chopped wood, and a first-year Kizen Simon all appeared at once. There was even a version of Simon older than he was now.
"Simon’s time...!"
This was dangerous. Serne stopped her recovery and pulled out a feather to intervene.
"Wait."
A third voice stopped Serne in her tracks.
’Zap! Zzzzzzt!’
Purple magic circles appeared all around, bringing Simon’s condition under control. The berserk energy began to stabilize as if by magic. The baby Simon, the country boy Simon, and the other forms gradually disappeared, leaving only Simon’s original body... and a tall man.
"This is the Tower of Time, right? I knew this would happen."
Serne’s eyes went wide. The face was unfamiliar, yet familiar. He looked almost exactly like Simon, but his aura was completely different. And this power, its origin unknown...
’This man.’
He wasn’t just strong. A shiver ran through her entire body, and goosebumps rose on her skin. Uncharacteristically, Serne spoke in a daze.
"Who... are you?"
"Ah." The handsome man, with his chiseled features and blue hair, looked at Serne, his eyes widening in surprise before a gentle smile spread across his face. "It’s been a while, Serne."

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