Chapter 99
Chapter 99
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 99
Chapter Title: Ominous Peace
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“Tower Lord. I have a request to make.”
There have never been many people who could have a private audience with the Emperor, neither in the past nor now. But who could say that the Oldman Tower Lord of the Magic Tower lacked the qualifications for it?
This man—no, the Magic Tower itself—had always maintained neutrality in the continent’s conflicts. Absolute neutrality, and if it had to take a side, it was the side of money. When two nations were at war, the Magic Tower sold magic items to both and raked in hefty profits.
“Please command me, Your Majesty.”
Though he said “command,” it was a fact known to the Tower Lord, the Emperor, and the entire world that the Oldman Tower Lord was not beneath the Emperor. The Tower Lord was qualified to speak with the Emperor on equal terms, and the Emperor’s orders held little meaning to him.
Even if he said “understood” here, he could step outside and act as if he had heard nothing, and no one would bat an eye.
The Magic Tower was that immense a power, and as long as it wasn’t provoked, it kept to its neutrality in its own way. The Emperor had no intention of provoking such people without preparation.
“Tower Lord. Not long ago, during our discussions, we agreed to establish a city under the Magic Tower in the southeastern Empire. That magic city of Orphiel remains administratively part of the Empire. Thus, I wish to entrust you with the position of mayor of Orphiel. What say you?”
The Oldman Tower Lord’s eyebrow twitched briefly. He pondered for a moment what the Emperor’s intentions were in saying this.
Orphiel was already as good as the Magic Tower’s city, paying only taxes to the Empire. There was a mayor appointed from the capital, but he held no real power and was merely a puppet following the Magic Tower’s will.
Handing that position over outright wasn’t a huge gain, but it was no loss either. In any case, it wasn’t a bad deal. The Tower Lord immediately grasped why the Emperor was offering this and nodded.
“I gratefully accept Your Majesty’s benevolence. I shall now head to Orphiel to focus on training magical talent. Would Your Majesty permit this?”
“So be it.”
“I thank Your Majesty for your grace, and thank you again.”
And so, the situation was obvious. Even as the Citadel Republic teetered on the brink of a volcanic eruption, these people seemed determined to clash eventually.
With ties to both the Empire and the Holy Kingdom, the Tower Lord grasped the state of affairs at once. The capital might seem peaceful now, but it was merely the eye of the storm.
It appeared the summit between the Emperor and the three archbishops had not gone well. Unusual movements were afoot from the temple side, and while the Emperor seemed unperturbed on the surface, preparations were being made behind the scenes.
The Tower Lord had no desire to get involved in such turmoil. He was neither on the Empire’s side nor the temple’s—if anything, he’d side with whoever won.
“Senior Brother. How did it go?”
“Priest. The Emperor wants us to stay one step removed from the Empire’s disturbances.”
Gerard, an elder mage of the Magic Tower, asked his senior brother. Having shared the same master, their conversation was free of formality.
Outside the imperial palace, the Oldman Tower Lord didn’t bother calling the Emperor “Your Majesty,” and no one found it strange.
“So conflict is inevitable after all?”
“Most likely. The Emperor’s intent was simple: if we won’t join his side, then get out of the capital altogether.”
Ambitious sorts desperate for advancement might seize this chance to align with either the Emperor or the temple. But the Magic Tower was already one of the continent’s peak powers, with nowhere higher to climb.
It had no wish to take one side and make enemies of the other in such a quarrel. They would simply watch and profit where they could.
“With Mount Calderan on the verge of erupting, they’re playing their games well enough. Senior Brother, what’s our plan? The Citadel Republic is a major client. It would be a disaster if such a place collapsed.”
“Too late for that. What plan? The Holy Kingdom has no interest, and the Emperor lacks the capability. There’s no need for our Magic Tower to bear the burden alone, and more importantly, even if we did, it wouldn’t matter.”
The Tower Lord calmly acknowledged the facts. His magical prowess was formidable, but the foe was that immortal firebird that had incinerated three Masters.
Even if the Magic Tower threw everything at it and won, it would be a pyrrhic victory at best, with devastating losses. It wasn’t worth it. Above all, true victory was highly uncertain.
The Holy Kingdom seemed to have abandoned the Citadel Republic entirely, aiming instead to exploit the chaos against the Empire. The Emperor clearly knew their intentions and prioritized countering them.
One couldn’t save a neighbor’s house when one’s own was under threat—the Emperor was quietly feigning ignorance while preparing for the temple’s assault. The players in this game of chess might be blind to it, but the Tower Lord, as a spectator, saw the political landscape crystal clear.
Of course, he had no intention of tipping off the temple. Truth be told, he’d rather the Empire win than the temple.
The Empire was a human power. It had its irrationalities, but overall, it was rational. The Emperor’s lack of absolute authority also meant a lack of arbitrary decisions.
Thus, Imperials shared the common pursuit of profit. The Magic Tower could easily understand their desires and join hands for greater gains.
The temple, on the other hand? They were the gods’ power. Their stance could shift like leaves in the wind with the goddesses’ whims.
They made the worst partners, and the Tower Lord had no desire to see the temple strong enough to grasp the entire continent.
“Whether Empire or temple, both are holding back aces aplenty. We can’t step in and let them hoard them. The Republic is done. No saving it now.”
The current state—where no single force dominated, and powers merged and split—was exactly what the Magic Tower wanted. No need for them to stir division; the factions were preparing to clash on their own. How convenient.
That day, the Oldman Tower Lord withdrew from the capital with the Magic Tower’s key mages. The official reason was to focus on Orphiel, but the real one was to avoid the coming strife.
An ill wind began to blow through the capital. Few had felt it yet.
“Speaking of which, that disciple of mine is still as prickly as ever. No word to his master about what he’s up to... Well, he’s never properly contacted me once, so I’m not worried.”
And Illyu was one who could sense such winds and still smile. The Tower Lord was already set on watching the chaos from afar. No burdens, no worries—just do his part.
*****
“Why...?”
And why was that?
The moment their swords clashed, Ardein felt an inexplicable unease and confusion. Mana from the leyline continued flowing into her even now, and her improved mana circuits—enhanced by the Firefly Crystal Fruit—absorbed it nearly perfectly.
In raw power, she overwhelmed her opponent. Yet the reality was the opposite.
Though Ardein poured Dragon Aura into her blade to push back Rayman, the two merely circled each other endlessly. She applied force in a straight line, yet their movement veered off course.
Like the saying that bears perform tricks while clowns earn the coin, even as she brute-forced like an ox, Rayman controlled the direction.
No Mana Aura even formed on his sword, yet Rayman parried hers near-perfectly. It was downright bizarre. What could counter Mana Aura if not more Mana Aura? Was this even possible?
“Princess. Sometimes, you must empty yourself to gain anything.”
Rayman raised his bare hand—the one not gripping his sword—to the blazing golden Dragon Aura on her Dragon Child Sword. He didn’t touch the flat; he stroked the edge.
The princess’s eyes widened. Dragon Aura was among the most explosive and domineering auras.
Even she would hesitate to press her palm against her own sword clad in it. Without utmost focus, it would slice her palm clean off in an instant—or simply explode it.
Yet the aura saturating the blade neither burst Rayman’s hand nor cut it; it dispersed powerlessly. The sword, forged from dragon bone, couldn’t even scratch human flesh.
Rayman let out a hollow chuckle. He hadn’t lied. It was only after Grimudo restricted his mana that he’d come to this realization. Of course, he wouldn’t have if he couldn’t wield the sword.
“Your Highness’s power is impressive, but charging like a rhinoceros horn will only leave you manipulated, accomplishing nothing.”
“Sir... Madeleine.”
The princess disengaged and shifted her tone.
She instantly understood why her father trusted and kept this man close. Composing herself, she asked,
“Have you come to grant me enlightenment?”
“His Majesty said Your Highness must be troubled, with your heart’s beloved departed. So I told him: grasp for everything, and you may end up with nothing.”
He sighed in response.
“Your Highness reaching Master at such a young age is remarkable, but you’re still lacking. Greatly so. All that immense power does is leave you tossed about, and the only thing you can do—charge ahead—you can’t even manage properly.”
Of course, this critique concerned only her martial arts. It was a comprehensive evaluation of her combat from swordsmanship onward, nothing more.
But was that truly all? Suddenly, the princess felt ashamed of herself.
For those words seemed to encapsulate her very life.
“I seek your teachings, Master.”
At least now, unlike with the former finance minister, she wouldn’t stiffen her neck in ignorance. Ardein bowed her head and politely requested.
“Well, Your Highness’s realm is so advanced that this old man scarcely knows what to advise. Even if I do, filter it as you will. With ten people come ten paths, so ultimately, Your Highness must choose your own.”
“But if I may share my thoughts, Your Highness is terribly greedy. Grasping for this and that leaves you hesitating. Dragon Aura is a versatile aura, and the sword nearly omnipotent. But can a person be omnipotent? Abandon what must be abandoned; specialize. No one can have everything they desire.”
“And Your Highness’s combat, by my measure, amounts to little more than crushing foes with mana’s strength. Face someone stronger, and you’ll be the one crushed. Whether through real combat or study, you need your own unique style.”
Rayman left those words, sheathed his sword silently, and departed. Left alone, Ardein mulled them over long. What must be discarded, must be. No one can have everything...
Looking back, she wanted so much. Political power to overwhelm Edmund, Kyle at her side, his strength bolstering imperial authority—yet without his hatred.
No way to achieve it all at once. Her attempts left her accomplishing nothing. She neither stopped Kyle’s departure nor followed him, merely extending a hand hesitantly before pitifully withdrawing it.
‘But I don’t know.’
Intellectually, she knew she must let something go, yet she couldn’t release anything. A few words wouldn’t change a person; else sages would fill the world.
Her inner turmoil only deepened. The princess let out a deep sigh.
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