Chapter 274 – Epilogue (2)
The Bohemirn Magic Tower was slowly beginning to regain its light.
Though the restoration of the power source was still a distant prospect, the tower's essential functions were being activated for the time being, fueled by magic stones.
This was only possible through the use of numerous special magic circles that acted as conduits for the flow of magic power. Even if efficiency was maximized, the cost of consuming magic stones was not insignificant… yet it was unavoidable.
And so, the Bohemirn Magic Tower was little by little regaining its power. Likewise, the restoration of vast amounts of experimental data that had been annihilated during the mana burst of the power source.
At the forefront of this work were the tower master's disciples.
"Hm hm hmm."
Balrog Bessias's second disciple, Rayshen Tailroad.
Beneath the glow of a magic stone lamp, his dark green hair and deep green eyes faintly shimmered.
Though he had already passed well into his forties, his appearance was that of someone closer to their late teens. The result of drugs he himself had developed to delay aging.
The drawback, however, was that his mind also regressed to match his youthful exterior, but he did not care in the slightest.
"Hmm, I hope this time it works."
Rayshen tilted his head as he stepped forward.
The bound experimental subject stared at him with a dazed gaze. Rayshen's eyes swept over the man's body before he unhesitatingly drove a syringe into him.
The needle pierced precisely through the mana circuits. With pressure from his fingers, the piston pushed forward, injecting an unknown, sky-blue liquid into the man's body.
"…!!...!!!!"
The experimental subject convulsed violently.
As the heart, connected to the mana circuits, pounded fiercely, a faint chill spread through his body. Frost formed across part of the laboratory, but Rayshen did not move an inch.
He simply stroked his chin, observing the process with interest.
"Guh… guhuck…."
The subject's eyeballs burst. Sticky, dark crimson blood trickled from his nose and mouth.
Soon, as the drug took effect, light flickered within the ruined eyes. The subject gasped for breath as though he were about to die at any moment.
Clap clap clap.
Rayshen applauded.
"Oh, he survived. This much means it's close to completion. If not for the power source runaway, I would've finished this last year, but finally it's nearing the end. Set this one aside and send him to senior brother."
"Yes, Master Rayshen."
The researcher obeyed, loading the subject onto a cart.
The unfortunate man would serve as material for the first disciple's experiments. Here, whether mage or otherwise, a living human was nothing more than a mere resource.
Rayshen changed into his robes.
As he adjusted his clothes with delight before a mirror, a mage cloaked fully in robes appeared silently.
"Hm? What is it all of a sudden?"
"The tower master calls for you."
Rayshen turned his gaze.
His innocent-looking face tilted curiously.
"…Master?"
***
The highest floor of the Bohemirn Magic Tower.
The passageway leading to Balrog's private quarters, suspended in an endless void, was guarded by security magic circles of dreadful power.
As Rayshen approached the entrance, lights of magic scanned his body.
Once recognition was complete, the magic circles temporarily deactivated, one after another. With his eyes confirming the path was fully open, he stepped forward.
At last, he reached the end of the passage.
The metallic door, engraved with geometric patterns, swung open. Inside, a nearly perfect, vast space unfolded before him.
Yet there was an unfamiliar current in the air.
'Hm? Could someone have been here?'
He glanced around, but found no trace of presence.
Dismissing it as a mere illusion, Rayshen seated himself on the prepared chair.
At the head of the table, Balrog, who had been sitting in meditation, slowly lifted his eyelids.
No greetings, only the matter at hand.
Balrog had no patience for meaningless waste of time.
"How far has the work progressed?"
"Mm, let's see… overall, I'd say about half has been restored. We've also been able to produce prototypes of some of the experiments that were underway. The Black Hour captives we managed to capture were surprisingly sturdy."
Rayshen let out a sigh.
"But since other magic towers decided to interfere under the guise of helping, it'll be difficult to secure more experimental subjects with such durability. Ugh, how annoying."
Only after a year of war had they finally stepped in.
As expected, the lower and mid-tier towers were scrambling to burden the Bohemirn Tower with debts. It was nothing short of disgusting.
Scavengers, sniffing about for scraps.
"And did you hear? For the past few months, whenever the battles end and the dead are counted, some corpses vanish without a trace."
The so-called corpse thief.
Such incidents were occurring in the battlefields between Bohemirn Tower and Black Hour.
At first it was dismissed as petty rumors, but as the reports accumulated, it could no longer be ignored.
"I've heard."
"Could it be some kind of undead or abnormal species? Hm, since not only our corpses but even Black Hour's vanish, and it happens in other battlefields too, it doesn't seem like an ordinary monster."
"There's nothing strange about it. The world is vast, filled with monstrous beings. I've already had the Council of Elders investigate, so the truth will soon be revealed. You need not concern yourself."
"Yes, very well."
Rayshen nodded.
He was curious, but since the elders were involved, there was no room for him to meddle.
"But Master, why have you called for me?"
"You must have already heard. Recently, in the Midros Autonomous Territory and near the Kailiens in the Eastern Continent, those affiliated with my tower have been attacked."
The Bohemirn Tower had been established in the Western Continent.
Though it had managed to establish a foothold in the Central Continent, stretching influence as far as the East was no easy task.
For that reason, Balrog had invested heavily in regions like the Midros Autonomous Territory, where outside powers could interfere.
Yet before reaping any fruit, the power source incident and the war with Black Hour had erupted, forcing nearly two years of neglect in the East.
Naturally, the hard-won influence dwindled.
"The culprits are obvious, aren't they? Towers that despise us, or survivors who barely escaped the Bohemirn Tower's grasp. Maybe both… or perhaps that so-called faction."
"Ah, you mean the new group."
Society.
A new faction known to oppose the current order of the towers.
They had only recently revealed themselves, and with activity limited to the Eastern Continent, little was known about them. But from what rumors suggested, they were no ordinary lot.
After all, to dare oppose the towers, they had to be formidable.
"It's unlikely to be Society. Their actions are too incoherent. More likely it's the work of malcontents harboring resentment toward my tower."
"That's certainly a strong possibility. But it's troublesome nonetheless. Even if other towers support us in the war against Black Hour, we don't exactly have the manpower to sweep away remnants that far off in the East, do we?"
Suddenly, Rayshen raised his head sharply.
"Wait… don't tell me you're asking me to handle it? That's far too troublesome and pointless."
"Don't worry. I have no intention of wasting the tower's strength against them."
"You mean to hire outsiders? Hm, personally, I don't think that's a great idea. Not just because of the cost, but if they talk carelessly, it could tarnish Bohemirn Tower's dignity. And I doubt they could handle the job properly."
Among those who had escaped Bohemirn Tower's pursuit.
Most had been left alone simply because they weren't worth the effort, but a rare few had been strong enough to break through the encirclement by themselves.
If such individuals gathered, they could be troublesome.
"Outsiders will serve as trackers, and as bait."
"Then who will kill them?"
"The Heavenly Sword, Adrian Chambers."
***
One of Balrog's experimental subjects.
His collection was not limited to objects alone.
"Adrian… then, the experiment succeeded?"
"Yes, the foundation for brainwashing through forced magic circles has been completed, thanks to Adrian. But after countless failures, he has nearly lost all reason. Though he endured for long, soon he will be utterly useless. As a man, and as an experimental subject."
Balrog's lips curled.
"So, should we not use him to the utmost while we still can?"
The plan was simple: outsiders would track the remnants, Adrian would slaughter both the outsiders and the enemies, leaving none alive.
Then, with the suicide command inscribed in the forced magic circle, Coercion, Adrian would vanish without a trace.
Saving the tower's strength, eliminating even the hired outsiders who would have demanded pay, and giving purpose to a soon-to-die experimental subject—three birds with one stone.
Efficiency, after all, was of paramount importance in the study of magic.
"And the lord of the Autonomous Territory. That arrogant man seems to value his ties with other towers more highly, so if we can dispose of him as well, all the better."
"My, the 'last stage of the former Central Continent's Four Greats'. That would indeed make for quite a spectacle. So, all I need to do is relocate the Heavenly Sword to the Eastern Continent?"
"Do that, and he will carry out his task without the need for further supervision. My magic circles and brainwashing are flawless. But there is one more matter."
Balrog produced a short staff.
Upon its body was engraved a magic circle unlike any Rayshen had ever seen.
"Rayshen, you will go to the Central Continent and find someone."
"Who?"
"Isabella Argyle. A Magus who, despite having a forced magic circle engraved upon her body, resisted to the end, and even succeeded in escaping from your senior brother, 'Crodon'."
Rayshen's eyes widened.
"There's a human who withstood Coercion? That's possible? And on top of that, she managed to shake off senior brother's pursuit?"
"Human… it's a little ambiguous to call her that. Still, it's certain she managed to offset my magic circle's control to some degree. Of course, she won't be in perfect condition."
The tower master crossed his arms.
"In any case, she eventually evaded pursuit and disappeared. All we know is that she's somewhere in the Central Continent. But with this, we can find her."
Upon the staff before him was a newly developed magic circle.
Using blood as the medium, it could determine the life and location of someone marked with Coercion, and even deliver remote commands.
In other words, it was a controller for manipulating those bound by the forced magic circle.
Currently, both Adrian's and Isabella's blood were registered within this staff.
"When activated, the magic circle lasts for one hour, and to use it again requires exactly five days. It won't be a matter resolved in a day or two, but with you, the search time can be considerably reduced."
"Hmm, I'll do my best, but… is there a reason we need to find her immediately?"
"Isabella, she consumed special blood, making her body near impossible to kill. For your drug experiments, I can say with certainty, she is the most important subject you could ever have."
"An immortal test subject…"
Rayshen licked his lips.
"For you to speak with such certainty, Master, that must mean she's truly valuable. Far more than restoring experimental data. Very well. I'll retrieve her."
"I'll open the spatial magic circle myself. You depart in two days. As for details about Isabella, ask Crodon."
"Yes, Master."
Rayshen nodded and rose.
As he departed, his footsteps were light with excitement. It was an immature gait, unfitting for his age, but such was the price of delaying his aging.
Once the second disciple's presence vanished, Balrog confirmed the security magic circles in the passage were fully reactivated. Then, with a wave of his hand, a sealing circle hidden in the corner shattered, revealing a young man who had been trapped within.
"So, 'corpse thief', what business did you say you had with me?"
"Heh, corpse thief, you say… I merely procured resources, is such a name not too harsh?"
The man's voice was flat, expressionless lips moving in a grotesque manner.
"Hmph. For a suspicious man who used a double to infiltrate, I think it's a fitting name."
Balrog's eyes gleamed.
The insight of a Transcendent clearly perceived the existence lurking beyond that lump of flesh in human form.
"When you put it that way, perhaps. Still, don't think too poorly of me. To face a Transcendent, second only among the ten towers, requires no small amount of courage."
"You talk too much."
"Then let me be direct. Bohemirn's tower master, I came because I believe we can work together."
"Cooperation, all of a sudden…"
Balrog rested his chin on his hand, looking down arrogantly upon the man.
"Shouldn't you first reveal who you are?"
"My apologies. I cannot disclose the 'identity' I currently act under, but I can tell you who we are."
The man's voice twisted.
Immediately after, an old man's voice rang quietly.
"Call me Beldoran, the third Fang of Gluttony."
***
In the season when winter began, the Smugglers' Canyon was exceedingly busy.
It was nearly time to head for the Autonomous Territory, and smugglers bustled about preparing countless contraband goods, with no time to rest.
At least this time, there were no illegal immigrants, making things slightly easier, but both physically and mentally, it was still exhausting.
So, rest now was essential.
The road to the Autonomous Territory was perilous beyond compare. Even with accumulated know-how, one moment's carelessness could mean death.
For that reason, the smuggler Padreld devoted himself to rest.
But an unwelcome guest appeared.
"So, you mean… you need someone to guide you to the Midros Autonomous Territory?"
"Yes."
"Ah…"
Padreld buried his face in his hands, eyes squeezing shut beneath the shadow they cast.
'Damn, why is the ruler of Roafra here…!'
He had heard whispers from the underworld long ago.
When he learned that the mage who rampaged in the canyon had killed Grond, he was shocked. But precisely because of that, he believed he would never cross paths with him again.
To reign over the underworld meant one could live like a king until death, with no reason to leave. If so, there should be no reason to use the Smugglers' Canyon.
And yet, here he was.
Since it couldn't be avoided, Padreld had to make the most rational choice possible.
Suppressing his fatigue and bewilderment, he nodded.
"Understood, I will personally… guide you to the Autonomous Territory."
"Good."
Padreld bit the inside of his mouth.
Truly, such thanks were unnecessary.
"But to reach the Autonomous Territory, you'll need to wait about two weeks."
Verden furrowed his brow.
"Two weeks?"
"Well… hmm, it would be faster if you saw for yourself."
Padreld led him to the canyon's depths.
He pointed toward the massive passage where fierce rapids surged.
"As you see, this canyon has powerful currents. They gradually weaken, then reverse direction. We smugglers use these cycles to travel either to the Autonomous Territory or to the Kingdom of Estiria. Though dangerous, it's dozens of times faster than traveling by carriage."
However—
"Right now, the currents are too strong. Even for a veteran like me, one mistake would flip the boat in an instant. In about two weeks, the speed and stability will be at a safe level, making the journey possible. Time is precious, yes, but risking your life to chance is not an option."
Verden studied the currents intently.
Indeed, with their strength, normal ships would find passage impossible. He then noted the smugglers' vessels moored safely nearby.
There were six in total, two mid-sized, and four smaller.
The calculation was swift.
"I cannot wait two weeks."
"…What?"
"I'll give you one day. Prepare."
The order came suddenly.
Padreld, stunned, shook his head vehemently.
"No, no, no! I told you, we could die!"
A desperate refusal.
Nearby smugglers listening in turned pale.
As the atmosphere grew colder, Verden spoke firmly.
"Do not worry. None of you will die."
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