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The manager of the Magic Tower’s Arcadia branch stared speechlessly at the piece of paper that had been handed to him. How was he supposed to believe such a tale?
A Class 5 mage in her early twenties showed up and was claiming to be from the Mercenary Guild.
“I’m going crazy.” The mage scratched his head anxiously, eyeing the papers stacked on his desk.
He had just turned forty-three, but it had only been a year ago since he became a Class 5 Mage.
Was he too slow? No! Otherwise, he wouldn’t have become the manager of the Magic Tower’s Arcadia branch, which was deemed more important than any other branch out there. It wouldn’t be much of a stretch to say that he was more talented than anyone in the Magic Tower short of the Seven Mages.
Tower Master Ian was a Class 7 Mage twice his age, and the fact brought the manager no small amount of relief. At this rate, becoming a Master mage wouldn’t be just a dream for him.
However…
“She’s half my age at most, but she’s already at that level?” The mage burned the paper and sighed for a long time. Of course, he knew that there would always be a mountain higher than a mountain, considering Igrant’s vast expanse.
Still, this was a bit too much.
“I’m not even sure whether it’s good or bad that she’s a part of the Mercenary Guild rather than the Magic Tower.” He smiled bitterly. ‘It’s not even funny.’
The wealth of books and valuable magical items in the Magic Tower and easy access to the assistance of other mages made it a haven for mages. Moreover, high-ranking mages—Class 4 and above—would get a private laboratory in addition to a salary and annual research budget.
However, in some ways, these benefits were a shackle. The Magic Tower wasn’t a charity institution, after all. In exchange for these benefits, the mages of the Magic Tower would have to do missions, research, and even soak their hands in blood for the benefit of the Magic Tower.
It was actually the impetus behind the Massacre of Astera. In contrast to what the Magic Tower had been claiming, they were an organization that valued profits more than altruism.
“Manager, it’s Robinson.”
“Enter…”
A round and green-haired young man came into the room.
“Mr. Act has just arrived in Arcadia.”
Act was the mage in charge of the Anorad warp gate.
“Seems like he used the warp gate.”
“But why…?”
“He wanted to speak to you directly.”
“Ah.”
Robinson nodded knowingly.
“Robinson.”
“Yes, manager?”
“If you’re a Class 5 Mage from the Mercenary Guild, would you abandon the Mercenary Guild and join the Magic Tower?”
“...” Robinson remained silent for a while before eventually answering, “Maybe…?”
The manager peered out of his fifth-floor office. Busy as the branch was, he could see many people coming and going.
“I think it’s about thirty years ago. Something similar happened, and I think you know about it,” said the manager.
“...?” Robinson seemed confused.
“An oddball mage was doing his own research and experiments and almost blew up an entire floor while he was at it. The experiment was a success—rich people flocked to him, saying that he had created a rare stimulant.”
“Oh, are you talking about Heaven’s Mandragora?” asked Robinson.
“Yes.” The manager nodded. “A product that can keep you going for three days straight. Do you have any idea how popular it must have been at the time? It sold like hotcakes, but it was pretty expensive. On the black market, it went for several, even tens of times as much as the market price.”
“But the side effects…”
“No one knew about it at the time.”
Heaven’s Mandragora hadn’t been around for that long, and it had been less than ten years since the world found out about its dangerous side effects. Long-term use was potentially lethal, and it was guaranteed to make you go bald.
Unfortunately, the world back then only recognized it as a great stimulant that would remove all traces of fatigue and exhaustion. Speaking of the side effects, there was a famous story about it.
It was a story involving a lucky noble couple in the Hart Kingdom. The man would climb an enormous mountain every day and gaze proudly down its slopes, but one day his world fell apart.
Eventually, he couldn’t even go into his own backyard to plant mushrooms, let alone climb a mountain. Strange things started happening to his home.
In the end, even the sound of dripping water froze him in terror.
All long-term users of the Heavenly Mandragora experienced the same side effects, and complaints poured in like a deluge to Magic Tower before long.
Unfortunately, most of the people involved in the creation of Heaven’s Mandragora had already abandoned the Magic Tower at that point.
“At the time of creation, the boy was only in his teens, but he ran out of the Magic Tower screaming about people taking away his research…”
”He didn’t return for over a month.” The manager chuckled. “The Magic Tower was turned upside down. Honestly, I was more worried about the boy selling his research to Terra or something than about the boy himself.”
“So what happened afterward?”
“The current Tower Master liked him, so he wasn’t crippled at the very least.”
“Ah.”
“Lord Ian really liked him.”
Robinson noticed something odd, and he couldn’t help but ask, “Now that I think about it... How did the boy get out of the tower?
Flinch.
The manager flinched and went silent with a stiff look. “You see…”
“Yes?”
“I also want to know how...” The manager shook his head. “To be honest, we pour everything into our research, but the results will belong to the Magic Tower. It’s unavoidable. Your brain is the property of the Magic Tower, and they’re no philanthropists. It makes sense for them to fund your research. The Magic Tower won’t let you go, especially if you’re ambitions are huge.”
Robinson's eyes widened as he asked, “Will that rumored Class 5 Mage go to the Magic Tower?”
“I don’t think that the appearance of the Class 5 Mage isn’t just a coincidence because—”
Knock! Knock! Knock!
“Sir! Are you inside?”
Someone urgently knocked on the door, grabbing their attention.
“I’m here.”
“I think you have to come downstairs, sir.”
The manager seemed confused. “What's happening?”
“Well… a Class 5 Mage wants to sign up.”
“...!” The manager and Robinson stared wide-eyed at each other, and then the two of them simultaneously made a break for the door.
***
“What was Master even thinking? How am I supposed to live in peace at this rate?!”
Cain had quickly made his way over to the Imperial Palace, but terrible news greeted him as soon as he arrived.
“What?! He’s going to take on the entirety of the Imperial Knights Order? What kind of absurd nonsense is that?!” In spite of his ingrained chivalry, Cain was trembling as he exclaimed, “He’s going too far! Is he seriously trying to turn me into an old bachelor? Is he trying to lay his hands on every beautiful woman of Avalon?”
Those who weren’t really familiar with Cain would be fooled by his display of wrath. In all honesty, he was just expressing his frustration as a jealous old bachelor. He didn’t really think that his master was doing something wrong here.
Stop.
Cain came to a halt and furrowed his brows.
“What is this? Again?”
The Imperial family lived in the inner section of the Imperial Palace; everyone else lived in the outer section. There was only one entrance between them, which Cain had to go through. The issue was there were at least three hundred Imperial Knights standing in front of the so-called checkpoint.
“There are too many of them. What’s happening?” Cain turned his ear toward them.
“I’ll go first.”
“I really wanted to go up against the Captain again.”
“I could brag about fighting a Superhuman for generations!”
Cain tilted his head when he heard that. “Are they talking about the Reserve Battalion Commander?”
A man, looking to be somewhere in his thirties, pushed his way through the knights. He was quite handsome. His sharp features and purple eyes made him seem to look lethally charming. The dragon emblazoned on his shield made it obvious that he was an Imperial Knight.
“It’s my job,” he said, “but it’s not good to mingle with his kind. Are any of us knights willing to get caught up in Count Sanders’s punishment?”
“What?” Cain was both dumbfounded and furious, but he didn’t say anything.
No one stepped forward.
“This is absurd…”! Cain was about to step forward.
“...!”
However, Cain was horrified when a hand landed on his shoulder.
‘I didn’t even feel his approach…!’
Cain broke out into a cold sweat as fifty-thousand thoughts ran through his mind in the proverbial blink of an eye. Cain was an A-Class knight, someone far above the common man.
Even in Avalon, someone powerful enough to sneak up on him had to be…
“Keep quiet,” said a familiar voice.
“Master?” Cain was pleasantly surprised.
“Don't get too worked up. You haven’t forgotten where you are, right?”
“What do you mean, don’t get too worked up? You almost gave me a heart attack!” Cain turned around, but Joshua’s grim look froze him in his tracks.
“M-Master? W-what is going on?” Cain followed Joshua’s intently focused gaze. The knights seemed to have noticed them by now, and they were staring back at them.
“He was talking shit about you, so I wanted to teach him a lesson,” said Cain.
“No, you can’t afford to be arrogant in front of that man.”
“Huh?”
Joshua took a step back.
It can be hard to make great work when its stolen from bit.ly/3iBfjkV.
“Galahad du Lancelot.”
The rumored successor of Knight Commander Rod. Most importantly, he was Evergrant, Berber, and Draxia’s co-conspirator on that fateful night.
He was one of Joshua’s murderers.