The Problematic Child of the Magic Tower
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 inflated confidence.
He wouldn’t have taken the risk unless he believed he could handle two mages at once.
“Explain the situation in detail.”
“After we parted ways with you, we took a cab. Along the way, the driver said someone was coming 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—like a monster.”
“How was his swordsmanship? What did you think?”
“It was exceptional, beyond words.”
Then the outcome 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 place?”
“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.”
Clank, clank.
Bern displayed 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 and come 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 glanced at the air around Bern, noting again that it remained completely 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—
-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 glance before silently approaching the cabin’s outer wall.
Though terrified, Bern resolutely followed behind them.
“Oscar, do you have a good plan?”
“First, we go inside, meet the bastard, and beat him to a pulp.”
After a moment of thought, Killian nodded.
“That’s a solid plan.”
“...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 had come 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 belatedly 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 slammed shut as a figure, holding a torch, descended the stairs.
It was Jonathan—his supposedly severed arm perfectly intact.
“...This is ridiculous.”
Killian let out a hollow laugh, 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.
[Proofreader - Gun]
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 blazing like fire. “I’m not so poorly trained that I’d lose to small fry like them.”
With those words, Killian activated his 『Acceleration』 tattoos twice in quick succession.
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—! 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.
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 explain 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 black 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—Killian 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 explained the situation earlier.
The surrounding air was unnaturally still.
‘When a comrade is taken, it’s normal for feelings of grief or anger to slip through.’
But even as Bern wept, his emotions remained tightly controlled.
Such composure 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 dead last. We even made bets on how pathetic their mages would be.”
With a snap of his fingers, a flame hovered above Bern’s index finger—『Fireball』, an intermediate spell of the Red Tower.
“I bet he wouldn’t last 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 blazing orb engulfed the mage, swallowing him whole.
Kwoooom! Fwoooosh!
“What? He just froze in place 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—why is it so quiet?”
Being consumed by flames is often described as one of the most excruciating experiences imaginable.
Yet, there wasn’t even a faint groan coming 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 flames 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 flames surrounding Oscar swirled violently before gathering neatly into his palm.
His body was completely unscathed when he reappeared—not a single burn or scorch mark on his clothes or hair.
“To prevent their flames from being stolen by someone like me, a harmony mage of the White Tower.”
His piercing blue eyes glared at the two with arrogant disdain.

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