The Problematic Child of the Magic Tower
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
Chapter 192: The Miracle Healer (6)
“You... cough, you?”
The Emperor, gasping for breath, gave a bitter smile.
“I’ve already summoned countless clerics from the temple, renowned healers, even famous doctors from the East. They all examined me and came to the same conclusion—incurable.”
Incurable.
In simple terms, it means there’s no treatment.
Oscar narrowed his eyes and asked,
“What’s the reason?”
“Here.”
Tap tap.
The Emperor tapped his head with a finger.
“Because there's a bug crawling around inside here. It's growing rapidly, day by day.”
“...If you’ve found the cause, can’t you just remove it?”
“Don’t you think we’ve tried? We’ve already attempted that several times.”
The Emperor leaned back into his chair, looking exhausted, and shook his head.
“All attempts failed. It’s quite clever and nimble. We just can’t catch it.”
“Can’t catch it...? You mean the bug moves around constantly?”
“To be precise, it only moves when treated. It’s highly sensitive to any external energy.”
“...May I take a look myself?”
“Hmm.”
Annoyance flickered briefly across the Emperor’s face.
This was a disease that even the most brilliant doctors and even archbishops had given up on.
He didn’t believe things would be different just because some young man took a look.
‘But still... admirable.’
What moved the Emperor’s heart was Oscar’s expression.
The twisted look on his face seemed like someone whose own parent had been diagnosed with a terminal illness.
He bit his lip in sorrow, as if it were happening to him.
That alone was comforting.
Especially since in the current royal imperial, most had already accepted the Emperor’s death as inevitable.
“I permit it.”
Receiving permission, Oscar slowly approached the Emperor.
He placed his hand gently on the Emperor’s body and closed his eyes.
His mana began to observe everything within.
There it is.
Indeed, in the center of the Emperor’s brain, there was a small living creature.
It radiated a foul mana, and upon sensing Oscar’s magic, it became alert.
“Hmm.”
As the scan continued, the bug began to twitch irritably, and the Emperor winced in pain.
Oscar quickly withdrew his energy.
“It’s definitely sensitive. It started moving just from a simple scan.”
“That’s why no one’s been able to remove it.”
“What about using strong divine power or magic to obliterate it all at once... Is that impossible?”
“It’s possible. But given its location, they said there’s a high risk I’d end up brain-dead.”
“Oh.”
Even if he survived, it would be meaningless if the Empire’s pillar became a husk.
Seeing Oscar’s troubled face, the Emperor spoke lightly, as if it were no big deal.
“This too must be the goddess’s will. If that’s the case, I’d rather live just one more day as myself than survive in shame as a fool.”
“......”
Typical of the Emperor.
At that moment, Oscar felt his nose sting with emotion.
He hadn’t realized it from afar.
The Emperor’s voice and gaze still held authority, and his charisma was intact.
But seeing him up close, it was clear.
‘He’s grown old.’
The wrinkled face, the hair gone white, the bony hands that had lost their former strength...
Even if he held a sword again, those hands probably wouldn’t be as mighty as they once were.
“......”
Bitterness rose on his tongue.
He hadn’t said it before, but as a child, the Emperor had terrified him.
How could he not have been?
That piercing, wordless stare.
That emotionless face.
The solemn figure who nodded only at the master’s words.
For an orphan from the back alleys like himself, even making eye contact had been a struggle.
‘Still, we got close eventually.’
It wasn’t because he was particularly charming or the Emperor was especially kind.
It was just that the Emperor always stood in place, waiting for Oscar to approach him first.
Over time, they had grown to casually exchange jokes.
Time spares no one.
Oscar wondered—if his master were still alive, would he have felt the same way toward him?
With his heart stirring, Oscar asked quietly,
“If it’s possible... may I try treating Your Majesty?”
“Treat me?”
The Emperor looked at the young mage before him.
“I’ve already tried just about everything. Do you really have a better idea?”
“...Yes. A little while ago, I summoned Neil Brion out of thin air.”
“You mean the subspace artifact?”
“To be clear, that wasn’t the artifact’s power.”
Oscar lightly flicked his fingers, and a space opened up slightly.
“I climbed Starlight Mountain and, through a fated encounter, learned this magic. I was lucky enough to have Lord Ado Vail—the first Tower Master of the White Tower—as my teacher.”
Ado Vail?
The name sparked a flicker of interest in the Emperor’s eyes.
Even as an Emperor, tales of such a legendary mage were bound to be fascinating.
“Interesting. Can you tell me more?”
“Of course.”
Oscar took a seat and calmly began recounting his journey.
The Emperor listened, occasionally surprised, sometimes smiling gently.
“So, you’ve essentially inherited the will of the first Tower Master, once believed lost.”
“I don’t think of it that grandly.”
“Then your story—how does it relate to the treatment?”
“I’m thinking of using spatial magic to remove the creature.”
At the Emperor’s expectant gaze, Oscar continued.
“The bug in Your Majesty’s brain is hypersensitive to external energy—magic or divine.”
“Exactly. The moment it feels anything, it starts going wild—especially when anything nears the head.”
This wasn’t something that could be resolved by merely putting the Emperor to sleep with magic.
The pain wasn’t the issue—it was the damage caused by the bug thrashing around inside the brain.
“If I use spatial magic, I believe I can eliminate it before it has time to react.”
“Eliminate it before it reacts... What’s the success rate you estimate?”
“At this point, around 30%.”
30%.
Compared to all the failed attempts, that was an overwhelmingly high chance.
But given the Emperor’s symbolic status, it was still not enough.
“If you give me just a little time, I’ll raise it to 80%.”
“...There’s not much time left. Are you sure you can manage that?”
“Yes. It’s just that I haven’t practiced this kind of maneuver before. With some trials, I’ll get it.”
It wasn’t arrogance or overconfidence, but the result of cold analysis and self-awareness.
The Emperor pondered.
An 80% chance—worth risking his life.
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
More than that, he could feel his condition deteriorating by the day.
‘If I get any worse, I’ll be bedridden.’
And then, not even simple tasks would be possible.
He didn’t have a successor he fully trusted with everything, either.
After some thought, the Emperor finally spoke.
“Tell me everything you need. I’ll give you my full support.”
“Food.”
A tray clattered in front of him.
Tossed carelessly, some of the food splattered messily onto the floor.
“......”
Imprisoned in the underground dungeon of the Imperial Palace, Neil Brion simply stared blankly at the tray.
A pitiful meal.
Just a few weeks ago, he had worn fine suits and sliced steak at the best restaurants.
But how was it now?
Wearing a cheap prison uniform made of low-grade fabric, he was confined in a damp underground cell.
If someone who knew him were to see him now, they would never believe he was Neil Brion.
"Khk."
Neil Brion suddenly chuckled, his shoulders shaking.
Grrrgle.
Even as his stomach growled shamelessly, he didn’t pay it any mind.
“Hah, to think even garbage like you is granted a trial.”
The soldier who had brought his meal spat on the ground as if he couldn’t understand the concept of law, then left without a word.
Neil Brion didn’t even have the energy to be angry at such treatment.
‘I’m going to die.’
The trial was merely for show.
He’d probably be sentenced to death, but they wouldn’t kill him immediately after.
He’d be tortured, forced to spill everything he knew, and only then would he be executed.
Maybe they’d hang him in the public square as a warning to others.
And yet, Neil Brion wasn’t particularly afraid of dying.
‘It’s just...’
What filled him with shame and regret was not being of more use to the one he served.
That person had given him multiple chances, yet he failed to eliminate Oscar Crucian.
Grrrgle.
Still, his clueless stomach continued to growl.
With a scowl, he flipped over the food tray in front of him.
‘Oscar Crucian.’
The bastard who whispered sweet lies to him, almost making him betray the one he served.
If only he could kill that man, he’d be willing to sell his soul to the devil.
“Hm?”
At that moment, Neil Brion frowned as he looked at the overturned tray.
There was a piece of paper stuck in a boiled potato.
Carefully reaching out, he picked up the potato and split it in half.
Inside, a rolled-up paper and a single pill dropped out.
The note contained details of his next mission.
‘Ah! Aaah...!’
The moment he read it, Neil Brion completely forgot his hunger, trembling with ecstasy.
‘I’m still needed by that person. I can still be of help.’
Though locked away in this filthy, damp prison, he still had work to do.
This was to be his final mission.
With renewed clarity, Neil Brion looked down at the food scattered across the wet floor.
Suppressing his disgust, he lowered his head and began to eat.
Because if he wanted to complete his mission—he had to survive.
Oscar had been assigned a small palace, but he hadn’t left his room, instead devoting himself to training.
‘The worm crawling inside the Emperor’s head is really cunning.’
It clearly had intelligence.
Otherwise, how could it respond so quickly to external energies?
‘In other words, I have only one chance.’
If he failed on the first try, the creature would begin to guard against spatial magic.
And if it realized it couldn’t stop him, it would start tap dancing inside the Emperor’s brain.
The outcome was obvious.
The Emperor would be left a vegetable, and Oscar would be imprisoned for life.
“......”
That must not happen.
Oscar let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes.
Upon reaching Level 6, he had installed two new magic circuits, but they were still unstable.
Naturally, stabilizing them within two days was impossible.
“Whoa, what is all this...?”
Fran gaped as he stepped into the palace at Oscar’s invitation.
Even as the son of a successful merchant family, this was his first time inside the imperial palace.
“You’re here?”
“Yeah, you called for me?”
“I needed someone I can trust.”
Someone trustworthy.
Fran rubbed his nose bashfully at those words.
“Ahem. When it comes to trust, who better than Fran Sirius, right? So, what do you need me to do?”
“I’m going to be away for a bit.”
“...You were talking about treating the Emperor... don’t tell me you’re running away?”
“Of course not.”
Oscar handed him a pair of transparent gloves.
“What are these?”
“My treasure. Just hold onto them for me. It’ll make things easier when I return.”
“Return? Where are you going?”
With that, crack!—a subspace portal opened in front of Oscar.
Wearing a backpack filled with food and water, he shrugged.
“Who knows? Somewhere even I don’t know.”
“Hey, hey! You crazy bastard!”
Fran reached out in a panic, but the portal swallowed Oscar whole before he could stop him.
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]

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