Chapter 466 – Red Sea
Most people, who had been predicting the outcome of the competition only by the information revealed on the surface, were shocked and could not hide their bewilderment at the news that the North had defeated both the East and the West.
No matter how great the divinity of the Eastern Continent was, who could have imagined that the North would have such a concentration of national-level forces.
Moreover, the fact that two unheard-of young Magi had defeated both the Mercenary King and the elder of the magic tower was simply unbelievable.
As if it were a gamble, the few who quietly bet on the North's victory spent the night wide awake, ecstatic at their jackpot.
As a result, the current center of Northern power… the city also called its capital, Arein, was crowded every single day.
The city was under extensive expansion and development.
The streets bustled with new residents eager to become citizens of Arein, tourists, mercenaries, and investors ready to risk their small savings.
Even Keirel, whose homeland was the Ownerless Land, had never seen such a vibrant scene.
"What, already sold out?"
"Eh? Oh, Keirel, it's you! Customers never stop coming even without solicitation. Haha, business has been too good these days, almost a problem."
Keirel had long been a well-known figure among the citizens here, having maintained order as a vigilante in the back alleys of Arein.
The fruit seller laughed heartily, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his apron.
Normally, around this time, flies would start buzzing around apples, peaches, and plums as they lost their moisture, but it hadn't even been long past lunch and the stand was already empty.
"Still, I saved one tasty apple just for you. For you it's free, so come by and take it anytime!"
"Have you ever seen me eat fruit without paying a coin? Take it."
Keirel flicked a coin.
Seeing the coin slip neatly into the fruit seller's pocket despite his refusal, Keirel walked off, biting into the apple.
'This is really good.'
It was very sweet.
Thanks to the merchant guilds swarming into Arein recently, high-quality fruits could be brought in… and with this price and taste, there was no way customers would be lacking.
"Hah… Arein, where you can eat fresh fruit. Unbelievable."
Only a few months ago, the city had been nothing more than barren land where a bit of rain would turn the streets into mud.
Much had changed.
Keirel, Adrian's old acquaintance and friend, knew very well who was behind this transformation.
'Asher, who exactly is that man?'
Calling him mysterious was far too insufficient.
He had placed the inexperienced lord Liam Arein as ruler of the North.
From the anti-magic tower faction, the Society, he had gathered elite Mages including Heras, as well as the Genius Magus Cain and Unia under his command.
For reference, Keirel had only learned of this group called the Society quite recently, being ignorant of magic tower affairs.
Not only that.
He had brought unheard-of magic items like communication devices and memory golems, and now, more than two hundred Dwarves had migrated into the massive mine he had acquired.
Crunch.
Keirel chewed the apple, frowning.
"Hmmmm."
Above all, he was also the man Adrian followed──and though he seemed rather extreme, the more Keirel observed him, the more he seemed genuinely good. She tried not to pay too much mind.
Yet with each passing day, he carried out incomprehensibly large-scale feats without batting an eye, making it impossible not to question.
And so, she wondered.
Why, despite possessing such power, had he not taken revenge on the one who killed Adrian's master… Uncle Raymon.
'I'm overthinking this.'
Keirel shook her head firmly to clear her tangled thoughts.
Yes, there was no need to complicate it.
'The Adrian Chambers I know, he would never stop until he avenged his one and only master.'
Supporting that troublemaker in silence was something Keirel had vowed and promised herself to do.
And now, after managing massive amounts of information and devising plans throughout the competition, it was time to cool her overheated mind.
Resolving to focus on rest as intended, Keirel strolled the streets of the ever-renewing Arein with lightened steps.
Then, it happened.
"Hmm?"
A feeling as if her fur stood on end.
Sensing danger instinctively, Keirel turned and lifted her gaze.
Not only she, but a few other demi-humans with keen senses reacted similarly.
The summer sky.
So bright and open it seemed to clear the chest just by looking at it… but squinting, something was moving.
At first, she thought it was a large birdlike thing, but she was mistaken.
The closer it came, its mass expanded exponentially.
It was far beyond any mere bird in size, and it was blazing red enough to burn into the retina.
"What the…."
The streets trembled.
Windows and doorbells rattled violently with noise.
Citizens stirred at the anomaly in the city, panic rising, children's cries mingling with terrified voices.
A crimson comet approached.
The eyes of those craning their necks upward were dyed blood-red as it drew a clear trajectory toward the ground.
Kwooooom───!
The earth shook with a tremendous roar and vibration.
Strangely, however, Arein itself suffered no damage.
'The place it fell… the city gate?'
Keirel swiftly regained balance and, agile as a cat demi-human, leapt into motion.
She discarded the half-eaten apple.
Pushing off the ground, she used structures at the outskirts construction site to scale the wall, watching the place where the crimson comet had struck.
Ssshhhhh…
The scorched earth.
From the crater, thick gray smoke billowed.
Then, a shadow emerged within.
'A person?'
At that moment, an imposing voice resounded across all of Arein.
"Go inside and deliver the message."
A Magus walked out casually from where the crimson comet had crashed.
Clad in a blood-red robe, with red-tinged hair and a short beard, the old man of fierce presence struck the earth with a brilliant staff.
"I, tower master of Volcanic Island, have come to the Ownerless Land seeking the divinity of the Eastern Continent."
The heated air suffocated the lungs.
Red Sea, Beltroa Rium Solastel.
One of the ten tower masters, renowned across the continent's magical world, had appeared suddenly, freezing guards in place or sending them collapsing.
Barely regaining her senses, Keirel clenched her teeth and stepped back.
'I have to report this immediately…!'
Of course, using the communication device must never be exposed.
Turning to rush toward Arein's citadel, she froze in place.
"H-how did you already know and come?"
"With such commotion, how could I not?"
Standing right beside her without her noticing was Verden. His presence was beyond even the animal instincts of a demi-human.
Then, Beltroa lifted his gaze and fixed on Verden.
"Asher, your face is even smoother than the rumors say."
"Since you've come a long way, let's exchange greetings inside."
"Insolent brat."
…Thud.
The city gate opened.
"Fine then, let's see how the divinity welcomes me."
The current master of the Volcanic Island magic tower entered Arein alone.
***
In the quiet depths of Arein's citadel, with only the necessary staff left behind, the guest chamber held only Verden and Beltroa.
The two sat facing each other in silence.
With only their gazes, they tried to read one another.
Clatter…
Newly hired servants, barely collected, masked their fear as best they could while carefully wheeling in a cart.
They bowed deeply.
Then, without a sound, they served the dishes of the special course prepared for only the two.
"This dish…."
"It's been explained. I'm hungry, bring them as soon as each is done."
Beltroa flicked his fingers.
A hot wind blew the door open.
The servant, startled at his skin drying in an instant, quickly understood from Verden's silence that Beltroa's demand was accepted, and bowed repeatedly before hurrying away.
"Hmph."
Beltroa picked up his utensils.
As if he were the host and Verden the guest, his manner was natural. He lifted the pale, milky soup with dignity, tasting it.
He savored the flavor and nodded slightly.
"Nutty and smooth. Quite the effort for this soup. Must've simmered at least a day. The fish garnish is well-seasoned, its texture lively, giving it a fine chew."
"Are you a food critic now?"
"All tower masters are gourmets, sometimes also food critics. We only fill our stomachs with meals specially crafted by carefully selected chefs. A privilege of the wealthy."
Even meals given to mere workers at the magic tower were of considerable quality.
Wealth was one factor, but above all, a proud Magus could not tolerate cheap and tasteless food.
This was why Verden, who had once been a worker and later a low-level researcher at the Bohemirn magic tower, had developed some gourmet tendencies.
Beltroa skillfully emptied the soup and twirled his spoon.
"Ah, of course, DarkWarton is an exception. The tower master there has always been detached from such matters. And necromancers of the current generation all the more so."
"I see."
As they exchanged idle chatter of little importance, the servants brought more dishes.
Normally, meals would be paced out deliberately to drag time, but as Beltroa desired, the dishes were served straight from completion, loaded onto the cart.
"This texture is dead. Poor pairing too."
Beltroa examined every dish meticulously, and though he seemed slow, he emptied the plates quickly.
Any dish with flaws, however, he did not touch, simply incinerating the entire plate with magic.
Thus, the meal ended forty minutes earlier than scheduled.
Even in summer, Beltroa chose boiling-hot Furylyn tea as his dessert, leaning back in his chair.
"It wasn't enough to fully satisfy me, but it was decent enough to eat. The response was fairly quick too, considering I arrived without warning. Did you know when the magic tower of Volcanic Island would come here again?"
"With an elder captured, they couldn't afford to act leisurely. Considering the distance, I thought they'd arrive today or tomorrow."
"You can gauge things fairly well."
Beltroa stroked the corner of his mouth.
"To be honest, I was truly surprised. Never did I imagine Melconi would be defeated by a young Magus. Not even caught off guard, but in a magic duel. An unexpected event."
His fingertips tapped the table.
"To think such power, far exceeding public expectations, was concealed so thoroughly. Truly the tip of the iceberg, Asher. Quite peculiar. When I received reports of your movements in the Midros Autonomous Territory, it didn't seem like you had anything resembling a force."
"Is that why you came in person?"
"I couldn't resist. Not only did you intimidate the elder of the tower, but even now, before me, you neither bow your head nor show deference, instead meeting my eyes and addressing me so boldly."
Beltroa tilted his head, his reddish-orange eyes gleaming.
"I wonder, what kind of great man raised you… I'm curious. When I was your age, I was merely an apprentice to the tower master of Volcanic Island, diligently pursuing my studies."
"You've been chatting quite a bit, for someone who came to negotiate ransom."
"In the end, a successful negotiation is already predetermined. With limited time, shouldn't we at least share some worthwhile words? After all, the divinity of the Eastern Continent and the tower master of Volcanic Island meeting is no ordinary occurrence."
Beltroa, as if inviting questions, guided the conversation.
Verden spoke.
"I heard you've profited quite a lot recently in the Ownerless Land."
"Your information network is impressive. To already know of the dealings between the South and the tower… Well, yes, I was quite satisfied. I was planning to withdraw my hands from this place for a while, when such an offer arrived."
Beltroa explained how much profit he had brought to the tower through this competition.
Hiding his sly intentions.
As though he were merely a guest visiting an estate.
Listening moderately, Verden rested his chin on his hand and said quietly,
"Yes, like the Diamoon tower, shrinking away for fear of attracting Black Hour's gaze, it was quite a sight."
Twitch.
Beltroa, cutting his words short, flicked an eyebrow.
***
A heavy silence fell.
Their gazes clashed in the air, neither yielding.
Beltroa exhaled deeply.
"So this is how Piranze must have felt? He warned me not to provoke you in his domain. For you to suddenly pick a fight with me, a guest in your own hall, isn't that a bit much?"
"If you had come alone, I would have considered you a pure guest."
Verden's eyes turned toward the window.
"You've deployed your tower's forces at regular intervals, surrounding Arein broadly. Looks like you brought over half the elders belonging to Andranov as well. Are you planning to erase Arein entirely if things go wrong?"
At this, Beltroa gave a sheepish laugh.
"My, so you noticed already? I thought I'd arranged them discreetly. Perhaps your vigilance is formidable, or your senses are sharper than expected. Either way, it makes little difference."
Ssshhhk.
The teacup in Beltroa's hand lost its form, melting away.
The bubbling liquid corroded the edge of the table, dripping with a sizzle to the floor.
"Then did you think you could scorn the magic tower of Volcanic Island and still walk away unscathed?"
A fierce surge of mana filled the guest chamber.
A murderous gaze.
As if at any moment he would signal the encirclement, to burn down all of Arein.
"Do you disregard the citizens?"
"Unfortunately for you, I do know how to choose the place. I do not underestimate your power or your influence. So why would I waste my thoughts on useless lives?"
"Cold, ruthless."
"Such virtues are what befit a tower master. So, was that your last will?"
"Forget last wills."
Verden calmly sipped his tea, placing the cup down.
"I'm simply curious. Will Arein turn to ashes first, or will you all turn to ashes first?"
"Such confidence. No one has ever spoken such arrogance before me."
"I'll grant you time. Your last will as a tower master is too pathetic."
The tension was taut.
Beltroa, radiating the mana befitting a tower master, exuded presence worthy of his fame.
Meanwhile, Verden did nothing in response, only fixing his cold gaze on Beltroa.
A hair-trigger situation.
At that moment, Beltroa suddenly withdrew his mana and burst into restrained laughter.
"My word. I knew you were perceptive, but I didn't expect you wouldn't even flinch. Indeed, regardless of age, a giant is a giant. I acknowledge it. You are worthy of speaking with me as an equal."
It was the natural course.
Even a tower master would never engage in a war from which no benefit could be gained.
Didn't Serlo say so?
The towers are all too busy stockpiling their power… there was no reason to waste forces here meaninglessly.
'Had I been weak, the outcome might have been different.'
Verden's insight pierced part of the tower master's thoughts.
All the while, Beltroa, studying Verden's reactions, fully subdued his momentum, shifting the topic as if nothing had happened.
"Asher, what do you think of the current magical world?"
"Hard to say."
"The slow-moving current has been surging rapidly in recent years. Tides. Like ebb and flow, cold and hot waters merge to form new layers. Is there any better opportunity to rise in rank?"
Beltroa rose from his chair.
"To shrink in fear of Black Hour's gaze… you weren't wrong. You saw it clearly."
The tower master of Volcanic Island.
Possessing extraordinary power, yet not reaching transcendence, one of the strongest of the Sixth Rank, spoke truthfully of Black Hour.
"Dark Moon, Dahit Wethroel. To put it simply, he is like a wildly rampaging, profoundly intelligent beast."
"..."
"He usurped Black Hour, created for magic research, by killing his masters, transformed the Ailan Kingdom into a collective of death mages, destroyed the power source and waged war against the allied forces of Bohemirn tower, and even after clashing with the tower master of Bohemirn, years later… he still lives, intact. Worse yet, he counterattacked and killed the Diamoon tower master."
Beltroa gave a hollow laugh.
"Indeed, he is one who must be excluded from the magical world. But, should I take the lead in facing him? That would be no different from trying to bring down the sun because the sunlight burns. The wise choice is to hide in the shade, waiting for the light to fade."
There was no deceit or falsehood in his words.
Verden, watching Beltroa's serious demeanor, asked a question.
A question he understood in his head, but had never asked directly of the one involved.
"Why are you so intent on raising the tower's rank?"
"Does breathing need a reason?"
Beltroa answered without hesitation.
"Rank is proof. Proof that we are greater in magic, instinctively and grandly. It is not simply a matter of strength. If that were so, why would we distinguish between the towers' military rank and overall rank?"
The tower of Volcanic Island sought relative, magical greatness. And so did most towers.
'As expected, it's entirely opposite from the ideals of the Society. Utterly incompatible.'
───Indeed. The first tower was built for the people. Righteous Mages gathered, delving into magic once considered mystery, studying it to overcome the hardships of the age. Inspired by their power, effort, and resolve, others founded new towers, and thus the tower system began.
That was the birth background of the towers, as Ethan of the Society explained in the Midros Autonomous Territory.
In the midst of this, Beltroa glanced at the luxurious watch on his left wrist.
"Not much time left. Asher, name Melconi's ransom."
"You didn't decide it beforehand?"
"It's faster for you to speak than for me to guess. Surely you want something."
Of course.
"I demand Mandrake extract."
"Mandrake extract?"
Across the entire world, the annual yield of Mandrakes averaged fourteen.
Even with ten towers, at most, each gained one per year.
"Hmm… that's unexpected. Extract, you say. Planning to craft a mana core?"
"If not the extract, then I'll take a mana core."
"Unfortunately, I have no prepared cores. It's best to store materials and craft them as needed. A pity, but for one elder's ransom, it's fair."
Beltroa rummaged within his robes.
From a special spatial bag, he produced a small vial of transparent liquid, placing it boldly on the table.
"You carry such things with you?"
"For precious things, the safest place is with oneself. So, when can I receive Melconi?"
"Now."
Verden confirmed the authenticity of the Mandrake extract, then signaled outward. Hooves echoed from deeper within the citadel.
Casting his gaze beyond the window, Beltroa saw Melconi Broud emerge from a carriage, along with the Mages of the Volcanic Island tower who had assisted him during the competition.
"He looks the same as before capture. You're not charging extra for board?"
"Would you have me behave so disgracefully?"
"Had you done so, I'd have burned you for it. Then, since the hostage negotiation is finished, I'll take my leave."
As Beltroa turned toward the door, he glanced back slightly.
"Asher, I don't know exactly what you intend to do in the Ownerless Land."
"..."
"But you'd better tread carefully. To show excessive greed here is no different from making the world your enemy."
"Is that advice?"
"It is. For you to die young in your recklessness would be a great loss to the magical world. And my purpose in coming here was to deliver this meaning directly."
Beltroa smiled.
"Our magic tower of Volcanic Island welcomes your existence."
The Midros Autonomous Territory, and the Ownerless Land.
Thus far, the magic tower of Volcanic Island had clashed twice with Verden, and it remembered those debts clearly.
Yet to overturn ill will into goodwill through pragmatic judgment, was as simple as flipping one's hand.
The collection of reason and rationality.
That, is the magic tower.
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