CHAPTER 150. Sparkle, It Was Blinding
A few days into living in Rortel.
We were enjoying a life more luxurious than I’d ever imagined.
“Master of the Tower, it’s time for your meal.”
“Mm… let’s go.”
“Today’s menu is steak blended with ground Puriling leaves that are good for healing internal injuries, and a salad served with Kakalak fruit sourced from the Hamelin Great Forest. We hope it suits your taste.”
“Mm.”
Every meal came with all the finest delicacies from mountains and seas.
It wasn’t even comparable to the indulgence I’d enjoyed at House Brando before.
Maybe they were considering my condition—every meal included foods good for internal injuries, and the real highlight came after the meal.
“Your after-meal potion.”
“Mm!”
This, too, was a potion said to be good for internal injuries.
The price… mm.
“Expensive, I’m sure.”
I didn’t ask on purpose.
Even now, it felt like such a waste that there were only one or two drops left in the bottle—if I heard the price, I’d probably end up sticking my tongue into it.
“I’ll clear the empty bottle for you.”
“Mm.”
I smacked my lips while watching the servant carry off the potion bottle.
“Tch. Feels like there are two more drops in there.”
Ah, for the record, my responses in Rortel were unified as “Mm.”
The night we arrived in Rortel, Parun told me this.
Even if we were some ghost organization, we’d been introduced to Rortel as the Master of the Tower—so shouldn’t I carry myself with dignity worthy of it?
“…Though it feels like whatever dignity I had got smashed to pieces back when I ‘go on then, split my belly open’.”
Still, I couldn’t disagree, because I wholeheartedly understood the need for dignity after seeing Head of House Muhad.
But why unify it as “Mm”?
I tried over and over to put on a dignified manner of speech and tone, but instead of dignity, it felt like my gastritis was about to flare up.
That was when Shine’s advice hit the mark.
- Just shut your mouth.
- …….
- Forget speech and tone—when you open your mouth, you reek of cheapness. How is it that even when you speak elegantly, it turns vulgar…?
Yeah. When you’re a natural-born prestigious-house (名家) type, what can you do.
To be honest, Shine is just as vulgar when he speaks frankly, so I tried arguing that point too, but it was a fight I couldn’t win.
- Me? Compared to you? Ha! Look. Professor Parun, you judge.
Ahem, Shine cleared his throat and opened his mouth.
- You crafty bastard, (beep—) stop it, and from now on unify your answers as ‘Mm.’ A (beep—) like you, even if you (beep—), you’ll just end up (beep—) anyway. (beep—), (beep—), (beeeeeeeeeep—)
For the record, (beep—) is my self-censorship, inside my own memories.
How a natural-born blood relative of a prestigious house (名家) knows nastier words than me, someone who rolled around back alleys, I have no idea.
It’s too vulgar to even keep in my memory.
But what was even more shocking was… yeah.
- Well? Professor Parun.
- Amazing. It’s the first time I’ve learned that even vulgar speech can have dignity.
- Did you see? That is dignity.
As Parun said, Shine’s rough profanity had dignity.
“…What a filthy world.”
Some people speak elegantly and still come off vulgar, and others spew curses and still sound refined.
But what could I do?
If I wanted to preserve my dignity as the Master of the Tower, I had no choice but to keep my mouth shut.
But maybe he misunderstood my look?
“…Shall I bring you one more bottle?”
The servant asked carefully, stopping mid-exit.
I answered, “Mm.”
“Yes, then I’ll bring it right away.”
“Mm.”
That was a refusal.
Well, if he’s giving it to me, what can I do. I should drink it deliciously.
Anyway, after draining even the second potion the servant brought me without leaving a drop, I left the dining hall.
Like this, I was living a life of indulgence anyone would envy, but in truth, I had a few worries.
First.
“…Is that one the Master of the Tower?”
“That’s what I hear.”
“Yeah. So that’s what I hear.”
The unexplainable hostility of Rortel’s knights.
At first I wondered if it was because I caused that commotion on day one, but for that, the vibe was oddly ambiguous.
More than anything—look.
Over there, Captain Ekst approaching after spotting me.
If it was because of the first day’s intrusion, then the person who should be most hostile to me would be this Captain Ekst…
“Master of the Tower, have you eaten? I’m devising anti-magic tactics this time—if you have the time, would you give me some advice?”
That voice dripped with inexplicable goodwill.
“…Why?”
Even if I accept the knights’ hostility, why is this guy so friendly?
Anyway, setting aside Captain Ekst’s incomprehensible behavior, I realized a few things about this situation.
“First… most of the ones glaring with twisted eyes are ordinary knights.”
I didn’t run into captains or vice-captains that often in the first place, and even when I did, they didn’t show hostility like that.
And one more thing.
Among the ordinary knights watching me, the word “Suyangnok” kept coming up a lot.
“…Suyangnok? What’s Suyangnok?”
At first it felt like coincidence, but after it repeated a few times, I could tell.
There was some kind of connection between the ordinary knights’ subtle hostility toward me and the word “Suyangnok.”
But it was awkward to ask directly…
“Ah, are you busy by any chance? It won’t take much time. Hmm, if not, may I at least ask just a few things briefly?”
I gathered my thoughts at Captain Ekst’s question.
“Tch. Whatever.”
Even if the ordinary knights glare at me, what are they going to do—stab me in my sleep at most? I’m already used to Rortel’s stab-in-the-back.
Sure, they say familiar flavors are the scariest, but anyway.
“Mm.”
I signaled refusal to the clinging Captain Ekst and kept walking. Or rather, I was about to.
Then a burly hand grabbed my shoulder hard!
“Thank you so much! I needed advice from a skilled mage! Then let’s move somewhere else. There’s something I’ve been thinking about, you see…”
No, this Ahjussi.
I said no, didn’t I?
“Mm. Mm.”
I shook my head again and again, refusing, but Captain Ekst wasn’t easy.
“Ah! You’re saying not to thank you? How humble!”
Captain Ekst burst with joy and wrapped me in a crushing hug!
I bit down on my lip at the pain like my bones were being pulverized.
“…Is this bastard doing it on purpose?”
The time Captain Ekst finally released me, after catching me around late morning, was near lunchtime.
“Tower Mas— no, Master of the Tower! Truly, thank you! It helped immensely! I’ve never met someone as deeply versed as you in anti-magic tactics and defensive methods. If you’d even have lunch with—”
“I’m busy.”
Having decided not to use “Mm” with Captain Ekst, I refused the lunch invitation and stepped outside.
For the record, my conversation with Captain Ekst was also meaningful to me.
“Anti-magic tactics? What’s there, really?”
You just slam into them. Of course, the problem is that it’s hard.
But when someone is looking at you with the desperate eyes of a vicious old sheep, how can you turn away?
So I told him.
Told him what?
“Deculan’s tactics.”
Of course, I wasn’t from the mage corps, so it wasn’t like I was intimately familiar with Deculan’s formations and tactics.
But when I’d been preparing for retirement, I’d learned formations, tactics, and ways to break them—just in case.
“Only partially, but… it’s not bad.”
When I told him that, Captain Ekst practically fainted from happiness.
Ah, of course, I didn’t say, “This is Deculan’s formation and tactics.” I just said, in this kind of formation, with this kind of tactic, it’s better to do it this way. Anyway.
But why was it meaningful?
Because I caught two rabbits at once.
“By giving guidance to the vicious old sheep and saving him, I also spread Deculan’s name far and wide.”
Two good deeds at once!
“Maybe I really am the true apostle of Deculan?”
Waking or sleeping, I think only of Deculan. When I open my mouth, I mention Deculan. I always keep Deculan in my heart.
At this point, Deculan should be giving me an award…
“Oh—those weren’t two rabbits. They were three.”
By telling him, as-is, the method and route I used when infiltrating Rortel, I also made any possible fellow collaborators miserable—so it was truly killing three birds with one stone!
Anyway, that was why it was meaningful, but—
“…Still, it’s strange.”
Why is that vicious old sheep so friendly?
As we talked, he said something like, “Thanks to you, the knights can build their cultivation…” but I had no idea what he meant.
My uneasiness grew.
But—
“What do I care?”
I forcibly shook off the uneasy feeling and kept walking.
I wanted to grab one passing ordinary knight and beat him down, but there was something more urgent than that right now.
After walking for a while—
“Hmm. Is it here?”
I arrived at a building somewhere in Rortel.
Its name was…
The Mahakgwan.
A magic research institution.
Sometimes people are shocked to hear that a prestigious sword house (名家) has a Mahakgwan.
Because the Mahakgwan wasn’t a place to train practical magic, but a group that dug into theory and conducted research.
It’s an institution that, unless you’re a prestigious magic house, you don’t need—and even if you do need it, it’s difficult to maintain.
But ironically, the more a house is a prestigious sword house, the more they pour effort into maintaining a Mahakgwan.
“No matter how much you’re a sword house, you still need mages… and ‘know yourself and know your enemy and you’ll win every battle’—it’s about knowing the enemy.”
Of course, there were differences in many ways from a prestigious magic house, and the biggest difference was its members.
Unlike prestigious magic houses, which staff their Mahakgwan with mages within the family, the members of a prestigious sword house’s Mahakgwan were one hundred percent outsiders.
“Well, they say there are lifelong mages who serve loyally for generations, but… that’s extremely rare.”
As for differences in research quality and such, that wasn’t even worth discussing.
“But then why did the old sheep come to me when Rortel already has its own Mahakgwan attached?”
My doubt lasted only a moment. I quickly stopped thinking about the old sheep.
The more I thought about him, the more I felt uneasy for no reason—like I’d committed a huge sin without even knowing it.
But why did I come here?
“Our Professor Parun.”
Yes. Because Parun was here.
Ah, he hadn’t changed jobs.
He was here to learn how to use the Infinite Chain from the Mahakgwan that had managed it.
With that in mind, I headed into the Mahakgwan to find Parun.
There were guards at the door, but when I showed my temporary Platinum Token, entry was a free pass.
And as I stepped into the Mahakgwan—
I stood in the first-floor lobby, staring blankly as I took in the scenery.
“Excuse me—how may I help you? Ah, could it be… are you the Master of the Tower?”
One of the Mahakgwan’s pen-pushers recognized me, but I didn’t answer. No—I couldn’t answer.
“How… can this be…”
“Master of the Tower? If you’re here to find your party, I can guide you—”
I flinched and backed away from the pen-pusher approaching me.
Maybe he was startled by my reaction—because he, too, flinched and froze awkwardly, a nameless pen-pusher.
I glanced at the flustered pen-pusher, then looked back at the scene again.
“W-what on earth is wrong…?”
Why, you ask?
“…Are you asking because you truly don’t know?”
“Yes, yes… what on earth is wrong?”
Rage boiled up.
Truly, truly—you don’t know why?
“…You are unqualified to be pen-pushers.”
“Master of the Tower? What do you mean—”
Maybe my voice was loud.
The pen-pushers in the lobby… no, the mages’ gazes snapped toward me.
Normally, even this should be “Mm.” But in this moment, I couldn’t control my mouth.
“Why is everyone’s hair so thick?”
A question like an awl, piercing the silence.
“…!”
Someone was shocked.
“……”
Someone’s eyes trembled faintly.
It was then that a cold gust swept through the Mahakgwan.
And was it some twist of fate?
Thud.
A clump of threads fell on the wind.
No, it wasn’t a clump of threads.
“That is…”
At my question, the mage who’d dropped the “thread clump” smiled bitterly. And when he lowered his head to pick it up—
I saw it.
The wide expanse of his crown, spread broad like a vast wilderness.
The mage in front of me added at that very moment.
“It’s a wig, Master of the Tower.”
He lifted the lid… no, the wig—proving himself.
Starting with him, one by one, the mages lifted their nests… no, their wigs—and proved themselves.
I had no choice but to lower my head.
“…My thinking was shallow.”
“No, Master of the Tower.”
Pen-pusher 1 smiled bitterly.
“It’s fine.”
Pen-pusher 2 smiled bitterly as well.
And while every pen-pusher present wore a bitter smile—
“I heard you’re an incredible mage, Master of the Tower.”
Pen-pusher 1 looked at my head as if expecting something. All the pen-pushers’ gazes gathered over my hair.
Under that countless gaze, I smiled calmly.
“Thank you.”
“Yes, then…”
“Now, guide me to my party.”
“…Master of the Tower?”
I tossed my gaze out the window.
“Isn’t the weather wonderful today?”
The sunlight was so bright.
Sparkle, it was blinding.
