Sasha witnessed the entire scene.
Before she knew it, she had entered the gap between dimensions with the three young children.
In truth, it was only natural.
She didn’t fully understand what was happening outside this barrier.
“......Huaaang.”
At that moment, the young Sasha burst into tears.
Lloyd, who had hastily set Gilly down on the floor, held Sasha’s shoulders and said,
“Shh. Didn’t Deputy Marlon tell us? We mustn’t make any noise.”
“Sniff, but... but I’m scared! What should I do?”
“Then how about we play a fun game?”
Lloyd forced a smile as he spoke.
“From now on, you close your eyes and count to a thousand in your head. How does that sound?”
“...That’s not fun at all. And I don’t feel like playing right now. Do I have to?”
“Yes, you must.”
Shaking his head firmly, Lloyd covered Sasha’s ears with both hands and said,
“Alright, start now.”
“...One, two.”
“You have to count in your head.”
From that moment, Sasha began counting silently.
‘One, two, three...’
However, despite Lloyd covering her ears, various noises seeped through the gaps.
The sound of chairs and tables in the conference room beyond the wall shattering, the screams of demons,
The eerie voices of the demons asking where the disciples were.
Then, the composed voice of Deputy Marlon confidently responding that they had already been evacuated to the royal palace.
Sasha, squeezing her eyes shut, cried as she spoke.
“I... I forgot what number I was on...”
“Then start over from the beginning.”
Their figures slowly faded away, likely because her memory became unclear after that.
In reality, she had fainted from fear while counting the numbers.
Sasha Maestro watched the entire scene.
Although it was a sight she saw every year, it stirred deep emotions within her each time.
‘Lloyd Schultz...’
If she were to describe him, he was a good senior disciple.
Which made his betrayal all the more painful.
After the elders of the Tower were mostly killed, she relied solely on her two senior disciples.
But only a few years after this incident, he abandoned the White Tower and defected to the Red Tower.
‘Gilliot Dominic...’
The second senior disciple, who had been most enraged by that fact, later stole high-level magic from the White Tower that they had barely recovered and fled.
Sasha slowly closed her eyes.
‘In the end, there’s no one in this world you can trust.’
The only thing she could trust was herself.
This was the one truth five-year-old Sasha had learned by the time she turned twenty-five.
“......Ugh!”
Suddenly, her world turned black, and a sharp pain began.
It was as if her entire body was being ripped apart from the inside.
Hugging herself with her arms, Sasha knelt on the floor, tears streaming down her face.
‘It hurts...’
It hurts.
It hurts so much.
The pain she experienced every year grew stronger with each passing year.
Each time, feelings of resentment surged within her again.
Resentment toward the parents who abandoned her.
And...
‘Oscar Sage.’
Resentment toward the old master who had suppressed this pain in place of her parents.
The growing pain reached levels she had never experienced before.
‘Ah.’
Perhaps she might die today.
That thought briefly crossed her mind as her vision slowly blurred.
‘...Huh?’
As if it were a lie, the pain subsided.
It was as though something cool had been poured over her entire body, quelling the heat and dulling the pain.
Awakening from her hallucination, Sasha opened her blurry eyes and stared at the ceiling.
‘My room.’
The room she both loved and hated—the Tower Master’s chamber.
As she regained her senses, she realized that someone’s hand was resting on her forehead.
‘Who...?’
Turning her head, she squinted at the figure with blurred vision.
However, their face was obscured by the strong backlight descending from the ceiling.
All she could discern was one thing.
‘Warm...’
The person’s magic was overwhelmingly gentle and warm.
It felt as if their magic was caressing each of her cells.
At the same time, she realized something.
‘...I must still be hallucinating.’
The reason was simple.
The magic she felt from the person was far too familiar.
‘Why only now?’
The magic belonged to someone she resented deeply but also yearned for desperately.
Sasha slowly reached out toward the person radiating the same magic as her old master.
But her hand never reached their face, falling limply instead.
Watching her even breathing as she drifted into sleep, Oscar smiled bitterly.
The heat emanating from her body was gone.
The twenty-five-year-long ordeal of the Fairy Bloom had finally ended.
As he rose slowly, the Deputy Tower Master, Hamel, spoke.
“You’ve done well, Oscar. Devoting two whole days to healing her...”
“...It was something I had to do. Something only I could do.”
Even though he had gone two days without sleep or food, focusing solely on healing, he didn’t feel tired.
In fact, there was a strange sense of relief in his voice.
Checking the time on the wall clock, the Deputy Tower Master asked,
“To make it to your appointment with the Red Tower, you’ll need to leave immediately. Will you make it?”
“Yes, I will.”
Oscar, his face calm, looked at the sleeping Sasha one last time before nodding slowly.
“I’ll be back.”
While he was focused on treatment, it seemed that Hamel, the Deputy Tower Master, had arranged for a driver.
Thanks to that, Oscar could travel comfortably to the battlefield in his own car.
Leaning his head against the car window, he recalled the scenes he witnessed while treating Sasha.
The sky stained red, people trembling in fear, screams echoing from all directions, and the relentless attacks of the demons.
It was worse—far worse—than what he had expected.
Marlon, the Deputy Tower Master...
Oscar tightly closed his eyes as he thought of Marlon Grimoire’s end.
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
Marlon had been his ardent supporter.
Without Marlon’s guidance and teachings, Oscar could never have fulfilled his role as the tower master.
Seeing his face again... it makes me miss him more today.
If there were a place to mourn the dead, he would have gone there already to share a drink in memory.
But the White Tower didn’t have a culture of commemorating fallen mages.
Those who controlled the wind came and left like the wind itself.
‘When I have some free time, I should visit the families of my old colleagues to at least say hello.’
He suddenly realized he had been racing forward too single-mindedly, determined to rebuild the fallen White Tower.
Closing his eyes, Oscar thought of Lloyd, whom he was about to meet.
‘...He must have changed a lot, hasn’t he?’
Even Sasha, who he thought would never change, had changed significantly.
That child, who once approached people without fear, had become someone who trusted no one.
This made him even more afraid of how Lloyd might have changed.
‘That guy was always like that, after all.’
From the beginning, Lloyd wasn’t someone who trusted people easily.
The only people he held dear were Oscar, his mentor, and his siblings.
Even Marlon, the Deputy Tower Master, found Lloyd difficult to deal with.
According to Marlon, Lloyd lacked the charm of youth.
Thinking of his first apprentice, whom he would soon meet, Oscar’s eyelids drooped halfway.
Zakamunt.
This was the name given to the vast desert expanse located in the west of the continent.
Even the demons of the world dared not attempt to cross this barren land of death.
‘No, to be precise, there had been attempts.’
And all of them had ended in failure.
One reason was the unforgiving environment of the desert.
The other was the presence of beings who already ruled over the desert.
‘Orcs.’
Despite being sentient beings, they were classified as monsters rather than another species like elves or dwarves.
The reason was simple: they ate humans.
‘Not just humans—any non-orc species was fair game for them.’
At times, they even ate their own kind.
Yet, these savage creatures were intelligent enough to develop their own unique civilization.
‘With their thick, gray skin that could withstand the desert's scorching sun and sandstorms, their prolific reproduction rate, and the fact that it took only a few years for them to reach maturity...’
To the empire, they were nothing short of an annoyance.
Had it been possible to negotiate with them, humans and orcs might have made a formidable alliance.
‘We provide food, and they defend against the demons—that’s all it would take.’
Some emperors had even tried such negotiations.
But all had failed, for the orcs’ demands for food were unreasonably high.
‘And it’s something that should never be given.’
If the requested amount of food was provided, the orc population would triple that of humans within a decade.
Naturally, no emperor foolish enough to allow that could ever ascend to the throne.
Even an idiot could foresee where the orcs’ massive forces would direct their weapons next.
‘That’s why the western front is the largest military line on the continent to keep them at bay.’
Commonly referred to as the “Grand Line,” this military line was strictly off-limits to civilians and tightly controlled by the imperial family.
Oscar’s destination this time was the “Red Citadel,” classified as the foremost front line.
Stained with red blood and desert sand, it served as the final defense line marking the boundary between human and orc territories.
“Stop.”
At a barricade, a man wearing the imperial military uniform stopped Oscar’s car.
When the driver lowered the window, the man asked in a commanding tone,
“What’s your purpose for visiting?”
“Ah, I’m just a driver escorting a mage from the White Tower.”
“A mage from the White Tower?”
The soldier glanced at the back seat, then cautiously moved to the rear window and knocked.
“Excuse me, but we need to conduct a quick verification process.”
When Oscar lowered the window, the soldier inspected his face and took his identification.
‘What the... He’s so young.’
He looked barely over twenty, with a pale complexion that seemed out of place in such a harsh environment.
He looked more suited to a luxurious party in the capital than a desolate wasteland.
‘A White Tower mage, here of all places...’
The soldier casually checked the ID, only for his eyes to widen in shock.
“A P-professor of the White Tower...?”
“Is that enough for identification?”
“Y-yes, it’s more than enough.”
The soldier hastily returned the ID, swallowing nervously as he asked,
“Forgive me, but may I ask the reason for your visit?”
“I was invited. By the commander here.”
“The commander... You don’t mean Commander Lloyd Schultz, do you?”
“If you mean the Mage of Ashes, then yes.”
Not only was he here as a professor, but he was also the commander’s guest.
The soldier bowed deeply, his waist forming a perfect 90-degree angle.
“P-please proceed! Just continue straight ahead, and you’ll find the citadel.”
“Thank you for your work.”
The window rolled up, and the car drove off, kicking up a trail of sand behind it.
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]

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