The Problematic Child of the Magic Tower
Chapter 82: Poxxon (3)
Amidst the stench that stung her nose, Moira Main glared 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—
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 nonchalantly.
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—ever 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 blamed others for her failures.
There was no point in continuing this conversation—nothing productive would come 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—but it was still water, and in this place, 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—or rather, 21—years, 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.
Similarly, 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."
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 accepted the offer.
As Oscar thought further, a particular 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 uncontrollable 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—what’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, compressed 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—she’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 relaxed slightly as she watched.
"Hmph. A cursed mouth, but no skill to match."
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 place is the perfect grave for trash like you."
She snorted and stomped on Oscar’s face—
Only for the body to dissolve like smoke.
Moira’s eyes widened.
‘An illusion spell?’
When?
Wait—did that mean she’d lost sight of the real one?
‘Impossible. I clearly felt his residual magic coming from the body...?’
Moira's gaze quickly shot toward where the corpse had been.
Water rising up to a person's thighs.
From a place just deep enough for someone to hide if they lay 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—that 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 times larger 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 place!"
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 plan.
‘A mage is affected by the environment more than any other class.’
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 could come up with?”
The enormous chamber was the central point of the sewer, a place 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’t come 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 planner—and that preparation includes choosing the battlefield.”
“...You’re arrogant, I’ll give you that. But fine, I’ll admit it—I didn’t expect you to have tampered with this place.”
Oscar stared at the foul water pooled in the chamber, acknowledging his miscalculation.
“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 place.”
Oscar stared at her quietly and asked,
“Do you even know what this place is for?”
“Of course. It’s a place 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 place 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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