Fire (1)
Water?
It was no ordinary water. It stung on contact—shaped like water, yes, but every last droplet felt sharper than a needle.
Harad touched the tip of his tongue to it. No salt.
Not the sea, then.
Meaning it did not trace back to a great Origin. Vast concepts bound to water usually involved the sea.
One of the 6th-Circle magicians he had faced in his previous life had been like that.
It's an attack, but... It showed no intent to kill—or even to injure. The proof was that he could still form thoughts, even swallowed whole by the wave.
Because of the taboo?
Killing another tower's magician was taboo. It had only been possible because it was Cassion; Outland magicians could not kill one another in times of peace. Perhaps that was why the mana saturating the wave ran so thin.
Underwater, Harad could still see Kubel. His eyes met Ellen's. Fire? she mouthed. Harad shook his head.
Their purpose today was not to hunt magicians. It was to find the Outlands' path through the 2nd Boundary—which meant that this time, they could not introduce themselves as the Red Tower.
Cassion had told them fire and water were natural enemies. The two shared an old and bitter feud.
Path. Harad mouthed back. Ellen nodded and swung her sword. Even without a trace of aura in the blade, the swing carried staggering force.
The wave that had swallowed Harad's party split in two, and the wind pressure at its heels shoved the severed halves apart. However weakly a magician's wave might manifest, this was a monstrous strength, almost beyond belief.
Freed from the wave, Kubel hit the ground with a heavy thud. A former hunter's reflexes served him well. Beside him, Ellen landed lightly and settled into her stance—half a step ahead of Harad, her angled posture forming a shield around him.
Before them stood the magician who commanded the wave.
"Oh ho."
The man pursed his lips in a repulsive way. He was quite the ugly specimen, memorable for his grimy skin and a nose without a bridge, and his murky eyes were fixed on Ellen.
"The Tower of Meteoric Iron?"
Meteoric iron. The name of a tower where iron-attuned magicians gathered. The Origin of that tower's greatest magician had been meteoric iron—a fragment of a star fallen to earth.
Ellen glanced sideways at Harad. The wave magician noticed nothing. At Harad's slight nod, she spoke.
"Ellen of the Tower of Meteoric Iron, 4th Circle."
Ellen scratched precisely where Harad itched. She was sharp like that. The problem was that she usually saw no reason to use it—but she knew this was the time. That, too, was an effect of the regression: a choice the Ellen of a short while ago would never have made.
She'd have already swung her sword.
The wave magician's gaze slid sideways. Shorter than Ellen though he was, he somehow managed to look down on her.
"Harad of the Ivory Tower, 4th Circle. This one here is Ivory's 3rd Circle—"
"Trash, the lot of you."
The wave magician cut him off. The Ivory Tower did receive such treatment, but his reaction was harsher than the norm.
"Tyrell Aquins of the Tower of the Abyss, 4th Circle." He spoke with his gaze locked on Ellen.
The Tower of the Abyss was a tower of water-related Origins.
4th Circle. A flicker of disappointment settled in Ellen's eyes. She couldn't help mourning that he was no strong opponent—born as she was, she was a hopeless battle maniac. It was no accident that knights flocked to Serzilla.
Ellen quickly corrected her expression, even going so far as to nod with exaggerated deference. That gesture seemed to breed a misunderstanding.
"Yes. Just as you surmised. The noble star of the Tower of the Abyss, River Aquins, is my grandfather."
Tyrell Aquins puffed out his shoulders even more theatrically than Ellen had.
Unbelievable. Even had they played dumb, he would have been every bit as arrogant. That was the sort of man he seemed. 4th Circle. He was a noble of the Outlands. A hereditary noble, at that.
Star of the Tower. A grand title—and one that marked an unfortunate magician. Magicians who might have been kings, had they been born in another age. Were it not for the current Master of the Abyss, the star called River Aquins would have been timber more than fit to become a Tower Master himself. Tyrell was that star's grandson. In continental terms, the scion of a prestigious house.
It meant his mana outstripped any common 4th Circle's. The Aquins family must have poured its very heart into that ugly bastard.
Gulp. Harad swallowed without meaning to. The sound was loud enough, yet Tyrell gave no sign of having heard it; the man's attention was pinned on Ellen to an excessive degree.
Introducing ourselves as Meteoric Iron? Allies in the Long-Cherished Wish they might be, but the Abyss and Meteoric Iron kept each other at arm's length. They were hardly close enough for a gaze to latch on like that.
I'd like to stab those eyes. Tyrell's gaze was sinister enough that the thought surfaced unbidden.
"So, what happened?"
"..."
Ellen's eyes went cold. Tyrell had been the one to approach first—and it had been no mere approach, but an attack.
Harad opened his mouth quickly, before Ellen could botch things.
"We were beaten by the fire who burned the watchtower. He went to the Abyss's Path—"
"Stand aside. I asked Meteoric Iron."
A jet of water shot at Harad without warning. Its edge was considerable; had Ellen not caught it on her blade, his face would have been left a bloody mess.
"What is the meaning of this?"
Ellen's face turned to frost.
"Teaching you your manners."
"We are both nobles, are we not?"
Ellen knew every piece of Outland intelligence Harad had gathered this life. The fact that nobility began at the 4th Circle had come from Hervis.
"Both?" Tyrell sneered. "I am a part of the great Abyss, the noble Aquins. There is no comparing me to base Ivory."
"Do you dismiss Meteoric Iron just the same?"
"No. Meteoric Iron is tolerably noble."
Magicians skilled in combat despised the Ivory Tower for dwelling in back alleys. Tyrell was a combat magician of the most typical stripe—and the most typical kind of haughty noble young master besides.
"Ellen of Meteoric Iron. You will speak."
Tyrell was cordial toward Ellen. Yet even that cordiality could not shake the sense of being looked down upon.
It's the family name. Tyrell bore the name Aquins. Which meant he had lineage.
I suppose wherever people live, it's all the same. Just as on the continent, the Outlands' nobility came in grades. Nobility began at the 4th Circle, but a title won by personal achievement alone had its ceiling.
"Just as Harad said. We were beaten by the fire, and he went to the Abyss's Path."
"Fire!"
Tyrell reacted as though hearing it for the first time, his bulging eyes giving shape to rage. The Tower of the Abyss and the Red Tower were hereditary foes.
"They said he attacked the Ivory Tower. Was the rumor true?"
The corner of Harad's mouth curled slightly. As expected, Jeshult seemed to have reported to the Ivory Tower that Ios had died to fire.
"I heard Ivory received Meteoric Iron's support. They said you would search the area around the Sacred Ground of Fire."
"That's right."
He seemed to mean the magicians who had died in the tunnel. The one with the Origin of spun thread must have been from the Ivory Tower; the rest had all carried iron-related Origins.
"What kind of fire was it? Was it truly that fire?"
That fire. Ellen glanced sideways at Harad. Harad gave a short nod. It meant what she was thinking was correct.
"That's right. It was the fire that burned the Red Tower's watchtower. You can be certain—when it comes to that fire, Ivory knows it best."
Harad's first exposure had been Ios's death. Compaso—an Ivory Tower magician whose Origin was the eye—had transmitted that death to Jeshult before dying himself. Jeshult, having received the report, invaded the Sacred Ground of Fire and died there.
"They clearly said three Ivory mongrels died."
Tyrell called them mongrels—even though those three had been 4th Circle.
Which means Ellen looks like a mongrel to him too. Thinking this, Harad clenched his fist and trembled violently. Kubel, who had been holding his breath, followed suit. Right now, the two of them were Ivory Tower magicians.
"Seems certain."
Tyrell said, having observed their reactions.
"You said the Abyss's Path."
"Yes, that's right. He went there."
The magic towers operated independently. Each possessed its own private route into the Boundary—the safest passage through it that existed. These were the fruit of their curiosity about the Boundary; in Serzilla's terms, a search route. But unlike the search routes severed by imperial decree, the towers' routes had a definite end.
"How did you know the place he's headed is the Abyss's Path?"
The blue robe draped over Tyrell fluttered. Mana writhed within it. Shaaaah—the sound of waves could be heard.
He's more cautious than I thought. He hadn't voiced suspicion upon first hearing of the Abyss's Path; he had only revealed it after extracting more information. And only after confirming it a second time through Ellen's own mouth. He wasn't 4th Circle for nothing, then. With that lineage, he must have been well taught, too.
Each tower's infiltration route was a closely guarded secret. Only affiliated magicians knew it—and only a handful of those.
"Only fellow members of the Abyss know our Abyss's Path."
For Ellen, it was a difficult question to answer. The only route she knew was the Moon's Path—or rather, only the infiltration route Cassion had once used. There was no particular significance to that. The place the watchtower's smoke pointed to did not overlap with the Moon's Path. That was the reason she was talking with Tyrell at all. Harad wanted to learn the routes of the other towers. There might be one that overlapped with the watchtower's smoke.
"He said as much—that he would go to the Abyss's Path."
Harad spoke in place of the hesitating Ellen.
"Stand aside, mongrel."
In his eyes, Harad was a mongrel too. A 4th Circle without a family name was a mongrel.
"It's the truth. He said so himself."
"A fire knows of the Abyss's Path?"
When Ellen spoke, Tyrell accepted it. But he did not dispel his suspicion entirely.
"You lot. You said he beat you. Yet you look better off than expected."
"We were lucky. He seemed to be holding his strength back."
"You mean he had some other purpose?"
"I don't know what that purpose is, but it's probably at the Abyss's Path."
Ellen did not avoid Tyrell's gaze. After a while, Tyrell nodded. It was the first affirmation he had shown.
"Tell me about him."
"He looked young. About twenty."
"Not yet ripe, hmm."
Tyrell's eyes gleamed. The look of a hunter spotting prey.
"...He must be 4th Circle. Since we were beaten."
We. Ellen had put it that way, yet Tyrell did not so much as glance at Harad or Kubel.
"Did he succeed in Projection? Ah, a foolish question. It is a realm I only just achieved myself."
Ellen's gaze went cold. Tyrell looked to be about thirty on the outside.
"Was he alone?"
"Yes. Alone."
"I see. So it's true that even the Red Tower has yet to make contact with him."
Tyrell stroked his chin with a grave face, as if running calculations in his head. After a while, the hand at his chin stopped. Tyrell spoke.
"Very well. I shall kill the fire who burned the watchtower myself. You will serve as witnesses to that feat. Consider it an honor, Ivory."
Harad's eyes lit up at that decision. He had laid the groundwork earlier, claiming the fire had gone to the Abyss's Path. Taking Harad's group as witnesses meant the same as bringing them along to the Abyss's Path.
So this works. The claim that their target had gone to the Abyss's Path was nearly a stretch. How would he know another tower's route and go there? But Tyrell let it slide—because that target's Origin was fire. Because the Tower of the Abyss despised the Red Tower. Cassion had said it was due to their long-standing opposition.
Nothing is hated by the Tower of the Abyss as much as fire. And now, for such a Tyrell, the fire who burned the watchtower stood right before his eyes. As of now, it would be the biggest fire of all. The Red Tower's magicians had never managed to set the watchtower alight, after all.
Killing another tower's magician is taboo. But Tyrell knew Harad was not affiliated with the Red Tower. Which made it the opportunity of a lifetime. As he said, it would be a feat.
"One condition."
"It's a fine opportunity for the Tower of the Abyss as well."
It was a chance to crush their hated rival's hopes. The watchtower's smoke was visible to Harad alone. Without him, the Red Tower could never find their king's treasure.
"Your greed is excessive, mongrel of Ivory. This covers your failure and avenges Ivory in your stead. Surely a due price is warranted?"
"...What is the condition?"
Ellen asked. Tyrell's words had a point—or rather, she could see no room for negotiation. The disadvantage lay on their side.
"Ellen, 4th Circle of Meteoric Iron. Become mine."
"What?"
"I mean you shall bear Aquins's child. For a mongrel, there could be no greater honor."
Tyrell's eyes gleamed hideously.
"Meteoric Iron would welcome that choice as well."
"..."
Ellen realized why Tyrell had not called her a mongrel. She'd wondered if there was some special reason; he was simply a fly buzzing around a flower.
Ordinarily she would have swung her sword already, but this was the exception. The condition meant nothing to begin with. Tyrell was going to die on the Abyss's Path regardless. What mattered now was that the Abyss's Path lay within reach. That route might, perhaps, run in the same direction as the watchtower's smoke. Harad wanted to see where it ended. Ellen felt the same. And so Ellen nodded as though it were nothing.
"Fine—"
"You talk like shit."
Then it came. A voice bursting out cut off Ellen's words. A voice burning hot.
"What?"
Tyrell's face contorted as he turned. Ellen turned her gaze the same way.
"I said you talk like shit."
Harad was blazing away, fierce and bright.