50. A Noble Soul (1)
At some point, mages began to look upward.
Not in some broad or symbolic sense, but quite literally—they simply liked high places.
Of course, that applied to everyone to some extent, and humans and elves in particular tended to use the upper floors of buildings the higher their status was.
But mages were even more obsessed with high places than they were.
Since ancient times, it had been natural that the higher the floor someone used in a magic tower, the higher their rank was.
And the noble archmages, unable to satisfy themselves even with such high floors, eventually stretched their domain into the sky itself.
“The Pillar of Lasellon.”
The institution above, also called the pale green magic tower, was extremely unusual in that it had only seven mages affiliated with it.
However, all seven of them were 8-Class mages, the sort one could scarcely find even in ordinary magic towers, and the tower master was none other than “Toa Regron,” one of the 9-Class mages.
So despite its tiny size, its name carried immense weight.
Failure to meet the minimum number of members, failure to meet the yearly minimum research quota, failure to meet the minimum magical contribution quota, violations of magical law, withdrawal from the magical world, and various other reasons had kept it from ever being registered as an official magic tower…
but in truth, the word official did not seem to hold any meaning for them in the first place.
“It’s become a dull place, compared to before.”
Eltman Eltwin, principal of Stella Academy and a 9-Class space mage, leisurely crossed his legs as he took in the full view of the pale green tower.
If one had to define this magic tower in a single phrase, it would be a tower that floated in the air and moved wherever it pleased.
At present, however, it floated less than ten meters above the ground.
But that was not the punchline.
It was only because the tower master of the pale green tower, Toa Regron, did not wish for it to rise any higher.
If he wished, it was the one and only magic tower in the world capable of traveling around the globe.
“That can’t be helped. I’ve gotten old too.”
“There’s no fighting time.”
And yet both Toa Regron and Eltman Eltwin, the ones saying such things, wore the appearances of teenage boys, making the attendant pouring their tea break into a slight cold sweat.
Fortunately, he knew that these two were among the fewer than ten greatest grand sages in the entire world, so he managed not to make an issue of it.
“Has it really only been about half a year since we last met?”
“What half a year. It’s been half a century.”
“Has it already been that long?”
Toa Regron.
A boy with dark brown hair and yellow eyes like the desert.
Back when Eltman had seen him in the past, he had worn the appearance of a man in his twenties, if he remembered right.
This was the first time they had faced each other while both appearing as boys, which made the whole thing rather awkward…
and uncomfortable.
As Eltman lowered his gaze and swirled his teacup, Toa Regron spoke.
“There was quite a disturbance in Arcanium.”
“There was.”
“I heard a single witch nearly turned the whole city upside down…”
Toa Regron narrowed his eyes and addressed Eltman in a low voice, almost like a threat.
“So while all that was happening… what were you doing?”
Eltman continued swirling the teacup without the slightest change in expression before opening his mouth.
“I was busy.”
“A lie. Did you think I wouldn’t know you were merely watching? You’ve always been that way.”
At those words, Eltman smiled.
“You asked even though you already knew? Yes. I no longer interfere in worldly affairs.”
“Say it properly.”
“You’re awfully picky. Fine, not worldly affairs… I don’t interfere in any events that happen in this world. Any story at all. And I intend to keep it that way. Well, unless some worm dares to crawl into my precious nest. That much I can’t tolerate.”
“I see.”
Tapping the table lightly with his finger, Toa Regron murmured,
“For someone like you, you’ve endured surprisingly well in that rotten nest of vermin.”
It was a remark that struck right at the center.
Should he respond playfully that it was quite the accurate hit? There did not seem much point in that.
If the other person were the type who enjoyed jokes, he would have returned one easily enough, but that old man was far too sly for tricks like that to work.
Before Eltwin could even answer, however, Toa Regron continued,
“But even in a nest of bugs… sometimes you get a rhinoceros beetle worth keeping around.”
It was not hard to understand what he meant.
As Eltman’s expression gradually sank, Toa Regron said,
“Eltman. It’s time for you to make yourself useful for once. My master wants the child who hunted the witch.”
At the mention of such an unexpected person, Eltman’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.
Still, without showing panic, he answered calmly.
“That senile old hag is still alive?”
“Wouldn’t it be stranger if she were dead? She’s clinging to life more stubbornly than anyone in the world. And don’t call her an old hag. She’s someone whose perspective on age differs from that of humans.”
A crease forming between his brows, Eltman replied in a sharp tone.
“…Taking that child away, even if it’s that old hag, is going to be a little difficult.”
“What is difficult for you is not my concern. But you know this as well. My master… always gets what she wants.”
“I’m not so sure. Even if it’s your master, I think this time it’ll be impossible.”
“I didn’t realize you’d cherish that child so much. I do sympathize, but there’s nothing to be done. This is partly your fault as well. Of all things, he actually hunted a witch… it would be stranger if he didn’t draw attention.”
The name Baek Yuseol had already spread throughout the magical world, but in truth, even his fame had its limits.
He was only seventeen.
And no matter how impressive his achievements were, at most he had hunted Dark Mages of Risk 6 and Risk 7.
From the perspective of archmages who had lived for centuries…
it was little more than the entertaining tale of a frog beating a toad to death.
Nothing more, nothing less.
But a witch was different.
Even from an archmage’s point of view, witches were extremely dangerous beings.
Ordinary people might think he had merely hunted one somewhat more impressive Dark Mage, but the older and more experienced the mage, the more deeply they thought about the meaning of witch hunting.
Historically, so few mages had ever succeeded in hunting a witch that the name Baek Yuseol would by now have reached the ears of hermit sages as well.
Which meant the news of Baek Yuseol had likely reached that damned old hag too, the one who had severed herself entirely from worldly ties.
‘This… is seriously annoying.’
Eltman’s face twisted unpleasantly, but that woman was full of greed. Once she set her sights on something, she would stop at nothing until it was in her hands.
‘Do I dig in and resist?’
No. That was dangerous.
That unsociable old hag might very well reduce Stella Academy to half-ruins.
With his magic in its current state, it would be possible for him to stop her—and perhaps even win.
But Stella Academy being smashed to pieces in the process would not be worth the cost.
If so, then only one method remained.
‘There’s no choice but to leave it to Baek Yuseol’s soul.’
Once Arain stepped into the hospital room, I closed the door behind him and used the pad to mark it as “Visitor in room.”
A doctor would probably come soon, but talking with Arain was more important.
“Please, sit.”
There was no chair.
“…On the bed.”
It did not exactly make for a very dignified picture, but what could I do.
I plopped down onto the edge of the bed, but Arain did not sit. He simply stood there, looking out the window.
Then, all at once, he said,
“You’ve worked hard. You carried out the mission even better than I expected.”
“…Well, it was manageable.”
To be honest, if Flame hadn’t shown up dramatically at the end, things would have gone very badly a long time ago.
Still, a man had to know how to put on a bit of bravado now and then.
When I shrugged and spoke as if it had been nothing, Arain nodded.
“To be truthful, I never imagined you would do this much. The expectations I placed upon you were far too slight.”
“Uh… is that so.”
“So I should apologize. Do you remember the members of Stella’s Knights I assigned to you?”
“I do, more or less.”
Those useless idiots.
The incompetent, rigid, completely worthless bastards.
“They were picked through special admission. Due to Stella’s contractual obligations, I had no choice but to accept knights from noble households, but no matter how hard I worked them and worked them, they were useless. So I attached them to you instead.”
Saying that, Arain handed me a magazine.
[Weekly Magic Parade]
A famous magazine.
It had enough influence that there was a saying that whichever mage was chosen as the monthly model was the hottest figure of the moment.
“Eh?”
It seemed this week’s issue had already come out, because the word “Witch” was printed huge right on the cover.
[Stella’s Knights Go Witch Hunting!]
[But the one who actually caught the witch was a first-year Stella student?]
[Where exactly were they, and what were they doing?]
I did not even need to read the rest.
Stella’s Knights were probably getting cursed out immensely right now.
“Uh, well, I should probably say sorry—”
“There’s no need. It worked out rather well, if anything. By now they should have taken quite a shock. They were so ashamed they couldn’t even hold their heads up.”
If he put it that way, then fine.
“On the contrary, despite the fact that I saddled you with such fools, you not only completed the mission successfully… you even hunted a witch.”
The instant the word witch left Arain’s lips, a chill abruptly settled over the hospital room.
He likely had not done it intentionally, but his mana had begun to leak out unconsciously.
“…That witch. What was her name?”
“Melisher…”
“I see.”
He turned his head toward me, met my eyes for a moment, and then unwrapped the bandages around his wrist—the same wrist that he always kept wrapped.
There, engraved upon it, was a single flower-patterned tattoo wreathed in black light.
I was not wearing the shrike glasses, but I knew the moment I saw it.
That was a witch’s curse.
When I showed my surprise, Arain spoke in a bitter voice.
“A long time ago, I fought a witch and was defeated, suffering a grave wound. Considering the price of challenging a witch as a mage, I would say I got off lightly.”
“…I see.”
“I probably won’t live very long. Once I realized death was already standing before me, the things right in front of my eyes started becoming impossible to ignore.”
When he first came to think of death, he must have realized something.
That what remained by his side…
was only Stella’s Knights.
He had no chivalric spirit.
Unlike a proper knight, he behaved roughly, carried out his duties violently, and committed crimes without hesitation.
He was, in every sense, a man far removed from honor.
But simply because he lacked knightly spirit did not mean he was insincere toward Stella’s Knights.
He was sincere about Stella’s Knights.
And because he wanted to change many things before he died…
he had been making numerous attempts, pushing himself far beyond reason.
One of those attempts might well have been me.
Because giving even temporary knighthood to a mere seventeen-year-old boy was absolutely not something Arain would ordinarily do.
“I… want Stella’s Knights to remain as renowned as they are now—or even more renowned—even after I die.”
“I didn’t realize you were that attached to the order.”
“It is not attachment. Stella’s Knights are, at present, everything I have.”
The only thing one possesses.
Even if one did not wish to grow attached to it, attachment would come naturally.
“I… am searching for someone fit to protect the order after me.”
There was no need for him to say who that someone was.
At this timing, anyone would be able to guess.
I had enough sense to understand that much.
‘Commander of Stella’s Knights, huh…’
It was not a bad position.
It was, in fact, an incredibly good one.
Who would reject the role of commander of the most famous knight order in the world?
I wouldn’t either.
But there was one thing that bothered me.
Namely,
‘You don’t actually have to die.’
As of now, the “witch’s curse” was an incurable disease.
Setting aside whether mages could defeat witches at all, the problem was that they could not even find them. And even if they did kill one, there was no way to remove the curse.
But back when I played Aether World Online, a small group of female gamers who had completely fallen for the character Arain did not sit quietly and accept that.
Backed by ridiculous amounts of money, they set up dozens of computers, mass-produced countless characters, and performed the insane act of endlessly testing alchemy, magitech, and storyline design.
That madness had even made the news once in huge headlines.
And in the end, it had borne fruit.
They found a way to break Arain’s curse.
And that record had been shared on online communities and preserved intact in my shrike glasses.
‘Do I want his position?’
Yes.
Of course I do.
If I sat in that seat, I could live in comfort for the rest of my life.
‘But would I go so far as to let Arain die for it?’
No.
Before it was even a matter of conscience, that was something I could not tolerate as a human being.
And on top of that…
if Arain could be turned into an ally, he would become a more reassuring force than almost anyone.
If there was a way to save him, then the right thing to do was to save him with everything I had.
With that in mind,
“I won’t do it.”
I politely declined his offer.
From his perspective, it would surely be disappointing for now, but I did not tell him the reason.
Still, I wished that at least this much would somehow reach him—
that all of this was for his sake.
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