The Problematic Child of the Magic Tower
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
Chapter 301: Seventh Circle (3)
A small village in the western part of the continent, where sandstorms blew.
Outside a noisy pub, three men were smoking.
“Is this information reliable?”
“Yeah, absolutely.”
Exhaling thick smoke, they kept sneaking glances into the pub.
More precisely, they were watching the man sitting at the bar, quietly sipping from his glass.
“His strength?”
“Level 7.”
“...that’s a bit tough.”
“Well, if we fought him fair and square, sure. But... you know, right? The way we always do things.”
After blowing out a stream of smoke and thinking for a while, the first man nodded.
“Fine. Let’s do it.”
“We’ll bring him out. Boss, you go ahead and prepare.”
Two of the men entered the pub.
The pair exchanged glances, then approached the man sitting alone.
“Haven’t seen you around before. You an adventurer?”
“There aren’t any notable exploration spots around here, though.”
The man gave no reaction to their practiced approach.
He simply stared blankly at his diminishing glass of liquor.
“What, can’t you hear us?”
“We’re not weirdos or anything. We’re security sheriffs patrolling the town and beating up the bad guys.”
When one showed his sheriff badge, the man finally turned his head.
His beard was rough and untrimmed, his hair grown out messily to near-shoulder length for a man.
Most striking of all were his eyes—dull and lifeless, like a dead fish displayed on a market stall.
“...what business does the town’s sheriff have with me?”
The two men swallowed nervously, but they couldn’t waste this rare reaction.
“Well, we heard you’re a mage. We were hoping you could help us with an investigation.”
“It won’t take long. Fifteen minutes at most.”
“Think of it as doing a good deed. We’d appreciate your help.”
“......”
The man took another sip, then replied in a bored tone.
“What investigation.”
“Oh, um... it’s a missing-person case.”
At the mention of a missing-person case, the man frowned irritably.
But he drained the rest of his drink, wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and stood up.
“Lead the way.”
“Y-You’ll help us?”
“Exactly fifteen minutes.”
“Of course!”
The men, delighted, hurriedly guided him out.
The moment they left the pub, they headed straight toward the alley.
“To get to our office, this path is the fastest.”
“Though it’s a little dark.”
They babbled uselessly while stepping into the alley first.
“......”
The man followed slowly behind them, expression unreadable—
when suddenly, the ground beneath him lit up with a magic circle.
Chwarururuk!
Chains shot up from the ground, binding his limbs.
“Brought him right in!”
“Haha, Boss, looks like you were ready too.”
“These trap scrolls are expensive, but man, they’re worth every coin.”
From the darkness, a man stepped out—
not exceptional, but skilled enough to be a solid Level 6 knight.
“......”
Even with his arms and legs bound, the man showed no emotion.
The leader smirked.
“Cut the act. You’re a mage, so your brain works fast. You’ve figured out what’s happening, right?”
“......”
“Oh, don’t be too harsh on him. He’s probably scared stiff.”
As the men laughed, the man asked.
“So that missing-person case was a lie?”
“...what. Are you a dumb mage or something?”
The leader cocked his head.
“Of course it was a lie to lure you here.”
Shing!
He thrust his sword toward the man’s neck.
“Alright. If you don’t want to die, spit out everything you know about the treasure you found.”
“...treasure?”
“Don’t play dumb. Hey!”
One lackey stepped up.
“No point pretending. We know all about it. You’ve got intel on an incredible treasure.”
“......”
The man let out a faint sigh.
Scum like this showed up every few months.
Probably because he’d spent years wandering around desperately searching for something.
‘Treasure.’
Well... in a way, that wasn’t entirely wrong.
Just nowhere near the kind of ‘treasure’ these idiots imagined.
He spoke slowly.
“You self-proclaimed sheriffs—are you done talking?”
“...stop bluffing and hand over the information if you don’t want to die.”
The leader growled, pressing the blade forward until just a little more would pierce skin.
“You think we’re joking? You can die here, you know.”
“You worked your ass off to get to Level 7. You don’t want to die in a place like this, do you?”
“......”
The man looked at the three with a pitiful expression.
“If I tell you, you’ll spare me?”
“Well, obviously. Just talk.”
“If I bring comrades to take revenge and reclaim the treasure, what then?”
“T-That’s... we’ll find the treasure first and leave before you come.”
If lies were scored, these men would get a zero.
Of course they had no intention of letting him live once they got whatever they wanted.
The man sighed deeply.
“...He didn’t give his life so that trash like you could leech off this world.”
“What? Trash?”
The boss twisted his face and pushed the sword inward—
“......?”
His body wouldn’t move.
Not even a finger.
Same for the others.
“B-Boss, I... I can’t move!”
“Something’s wrong!”
Only now the leader sensed the bizarre force gripping his whole body.
Sweating profusely, he forced words out.
“You... what did you do... to us...”
“A kind of cleaning.”
The man moved, and the chains binding him collapsed weakly.
The glowing magic circle on the ground fizzled out.
“In a world surviving only because of His sacrifice, there is no place for trash like you.”
“......ghk.”
The boss’s face drained of color.
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
A tremendous pressure constricted every inch of his body—
as if an enormous, invisible serpent were coiling around and tightening.
“Tighten.”
The man clenched his fist.
The pressure enveloping the three grew stronger.
“Ghk! S-Spare... us...”
“Please...”
He didn’t blink.
Soon, grotesque sounds split the air.
Crack! Urrrk!
Bones twisting and snapping—
sounds no human body should ever make.
“......”
Having dispatched the criminals in an instant, the man turned without emotion.
He headed to the inn where he was staying.
The elderly owner recognized him.
“You’re late today. Need anything?”
“Hot bathwater.”
He placed money on the counter.
The owner counted it and replied.
“I’ll have the bathwater sent up once it’s ready. Oh—and I almost forgot.”
He rummaged through a drawer and pulled out two letters.
“These came for you.”
“......”
The man took them and went up to his room.
He sat at the desk and opened the more familiar envelope first.
‘As expected.’
It was another result from the Blood Tower.
—Tracking test result: Failure.
Disappointing, but his face didn’t change.
He had expected nothing.
He had received the same result every month for over ten years.
Yet he still kept submitting requests, because of that sliver of “what if.”
Like buying a lottery ticket knowing you’ll never win.
“......”
He crumpled the letter and tossed it into the trash, then picked up the second envelope.
It bore the emblem of the White Tower.
‘The White Tower...’
He flipped it over—and his eyes widened slightly.
The seal was White Tower wax, which only the Tower Master could use.
Meaning the letter was from Sasha Maestro herself.
He hurriedly opened it and scanned the contents.
“......”
It was simple.
There was something important she needed to tell him.
He was to wrap up his work quickly and return.
‘What could this be about?’
Letters from the White Tower weren’t rare.
Sometimes the Deputy Tower Master wrote, sometimes Maxim or Fidelina.
Usually to ask how he was doing, or to suggest coming back.
‘If only it were one of those... rejecting it would’ve been easy.’
But “an important matter”...?
Ever since he left the tower out of guilt, he had never been summoned like this.
He fiddled with the letter, deep in thought.
He still believed he had no right to return.
‘Not until I fulfill the final order He left me.’
But—
if something truly serious had happened at the White Tower...
and they needed him...
After long deliberation, he began packing.
“......”
Edna was irritated.
“Huuuh... haaaah...”
Because Oscar had been sighing nonstop for twenty minutes.
She had ignored it at first, but now it was getting unbearable.
“What is it.”
Tak!
She shut her book.
Oscar hesitated, then finally spoke.
“Edna, let’s say you’re standing before two paths. One is a path you’ve walked before. You know exactly what lies at the end. If you choose it, you can reach the end with your eyes closed.”
“Continue.”
“But the other path... you don’t know what’s ahead. If you walk it, every moment will be filled with decisions and doubts. If it were you, which path would you take?”
“Hmm.”
Edna folded her arms.
Clearly this wasn’t about literal paths—this was about his growth.
“You’re thinking of reaching Level 7.”
“Yeah. That’s why I’m stuck.”
“You’re debating whether to choose the familiar path, or take a completely new one.”
“...pretty much.”
Edna also fell silent to think.
Any mage asked this question would choose the first path.
Because that path led reliably toward Level 9—a guaranteed route he already knew well.
‘The other path...’
It would incorporate the new insights and powers he had gained in this life—
the frost energy, the divine power he picked up recently...
A far harsher path.
But at the end of it might shine Level 10.
‘Or he could get stuck at Level 7 forever.’
Oscar explained further:
“I actually asked Lloyd and Sasha before coming here, and they disagreed.”
“What did they say?”
“Lloyd said I should obviously take the path I know. It’s safer and efficient.”
“That sounds like Lloyd. And Sasha?”
“She said she was scared of recommending anything and told me to decide for myself.”
“...also very Sasha-like.”
Lloyd gave a Lloyd-like answer.
Sasha gave a Sasha-like answer.
Thinking that, Edna suddenly felt she too needed to give an “Edna-like” answer.
‘An Edna-like answer...’
After long thought, she spoke.
“Are you choosing by majority vote or something?”
“What? No. I’m just curious about your opinions. In the end, I have to decide.”
“I see. Then I’ll speak freely.”
“Yeah, be honest.”
“To be honest... I do not understand the premise of the question.”
Oscar blinked.
“Well... you are a dragon, so human or mage standards wouldn’t apply.”
“Yes. Perhaps because of that, I don’t understand why you must choose only one of the two paths.”
“...what do you mean?”
“Why must you choose one? Is there a rule that says you cannot walk both?”
Oscar instinctively tried to object—
but found himself speechless.
‘True...’
He realized it.
He had been thinking far too rigidly.
‘Maybe I was afraid of change.’
He knew the old path too well.
He had achieved greatness through it in his past life.
And because of that, he wanted to preserve it exactly as it was.
‘But the fact that I even hesitated... means I sensed room for improvement.’
If the new path offered no possibilities, he wouldn’t have agonized so much.
Oscar’s eyes lit up.
He shot to his feet.
“Thanks, Edna. I think I found my answer.”
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]

Comments

Loading...