Eye of the Storm (2)

The Magic Tower of the Iris Kingdom was a gathering place not only for the world’s mages, but for countless scholars of every discipline.

Physics, alchemy, mathematics, engineering, medicine—all branches of the natural sciences intersected directly or indirectly with magic, making the tower an essential pilgrimage for intellectuals across the continent. The Iris Kingdom leveraged this academic prestige to forge deep diplomatic ties with numerous nations, ensuring that even the Messiah Empire could never treat the kingdom lightly. In recent years, the tower’s influence had grown so formidable that, with the presence of the Wizard King Kadir, even the king had to walk on eggshells around them.

If something went wrong at this very Magic Tower, it was tantamount to a kingdom-wide state of emergency.

"Tell me, mage. Do you happen to know my age?"

"A demon, I see. Judging by those wrinkles, I'd say you're at least over two hundred?"

"Correct. I have witnessed two hundred and thirty-one New Year sunrises. I survived from the era of bloody strife to this modern age where ball games are all the rage. Do you understand what that implies?"

"It sounds like you're saying you've seen every bizarre spectacle under the sun."

The blue-skinned demon scholar nodded at the mage's reply.

Demons stood alongside elves as a remarkably long-lived race, with an average life expectancy of roughly three hundred years. Yet, very few demons actually survived past their bicentennial. Before team ball sports gained popularity as a peaceful outlet, they spent their days brawling endlessly, routinely escalating skirmishes into continental warfare. Even if premature death was the norm, two centuries still amounted to twice a mortal human's lifespan. Their depth of experience was nothing to scoff at.

"Indeed. And in all my days, I have never seen anything like that."

"It's not just you. Every single soul staring up at it right now is thinking the exact same thing."

"I imagine so. In that case, let me ask you just one question."

The demon scholar tipped his chin, pointing toward the sky.

Hovering high in the heavens above was the Magic Tower.

It was not merely the spire that had lifted off. The bedrock itself had been torn clean from the earth, rising into the blue like an enormous radish yanked from a garden bed, clods of dirt and tangled roots trailing beneath it.

"What in the blazes do you reckon that is?"

The pride and true heart of the Iris Kingdom was bobbing serenely among the clouds.

Caught entirely off guard, the majority of mages and scholars residing inside had evacuated in sheer panic. The sole silver lining was that the floating monolith had halted midway rather than rocketing straight into the stratosphere. Still, it hung high enough that anyone looking up was forced to crane their necks until they ached. The mere thought of what would happen if it came crashing down was horrifying.

"Can no one here offer an explanation for what has transpired?"

Inside the ascending citadel, a handful of high-ranking mages remained. These were the tower’s executive directors, individuals tasked with grave responsibilities. Originally, they had assembled to debate the shocking revelation of the Sky Whale, but their priorities had been violently upended. Faced with an unprecedented crisis, a decisive course of action was desperately needed.

"If anyone has been conducting unauthorized experiments within the tower, confess immediately."

"Do you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠truly believe an unauthorized experiment caused this?"

"Then what else? Are you suggesting this is some sort of natural disaster?"

No one could dispute the elder's sharp retort. His logic was sound.

Though mana and magic governed this world, common sense still applied. Earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, typhoons, lightning strikes—these were natural phenomena. Centuries ago, superstitious mortals had deemed them divine retribution, but the advancement of science had proven them to be ordinary planetary activities. What was happening to the Magic Tower, however, had nothing to do with nature.

"Even if it was triggered artificially, we must uncover the cause."

"Precisely. If we can grasp even a fraction of the mechanism, a solution will present itself."

"If anyone has ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠noticed the slightest irregularity, speak up. Any observation is welcome."

The emergency council commenced in earnest, yet neither an explanation nor a remedy emerged. Even with the continent's finest minds gathered in one chamber, the phenomenon defied every known principle of magic and physics.

Amid the clamor, one figure sat watching in conspicuous silence.

"Hmm..."

It was Kadir. He sat neither at the head of the table nor near the front, but squarely in the middle, stroking his snow-white beard in quiet deliberation.

Though he had stepped down from the role of Grand Director, his authority in this room remained supreme. For a man of his stature to keep silent meant his mind was churning with profound thoughts. Sensing this, the presiding Chief Director addressed him with deference.

"Lord Kadir, what are your thoughts on the matter?"

"I find it fascinating," Kadir replied slowly. "And terrifying in equal measure."

Fascinating, yet terrifying. As puzzled murmurs rippled through the assembly, Kadir continued.

"Judging solely by its current state... the Magic Tower bears an uncanny resemblance to a Floating Castle."

"A Floating Castle?"

"Lord Aragon's favored airborne citadel."

"B-but isn't that merely a myth? Even if ancient ruins presumed to be of that fortress have been excavated, the claim that a stone bastion could actually take flight..."

"Looking at our own tower floating through the sky, does it still strike you as a fairy tale?"

Kadir’s logic was unassailable.

They already had a mountain of theoretical revisions to handle regarding the Sky Whale, and now, the legendary Floating Castle had been inadvertently validated in broad daylight. An endless horizon of academic research had opened up, but such intellectual luxury would mean nothing if they were crushed beneath falling masonry before sunset.

"Then, what do you suspect triggered this event?"

"Mmm..."

Kadir stroked his beard, feigning deep, professorial contemplation. The mages watched him with bated breath, pinning their hopes on his next words. Surely the wisest mage on the continent possessed the answer.

...What kind of excuse am I supposed to cook up?

Contrary to their reverent expectations, Kadir knew the cause all too well. The instant the tower had lurched skyward, he had bolted to his private sanctuary, where he witnessed the culprit firsthand: the lump of golden ambergris, glowing with incandescent majesty inside a reinforced translucent case.

By scrambling to enforce magical containment, he had barely managed to halt the tower's ascent. Or rather, he wasn't even certain if his containment had done the trick. Could a mortal mage of this modern era truly exert dominion over a primordial artifact from the Mythological Era?

At least none of them realize this is because of the ambergris.

Kadir alone held the truth. The ambergris had been mentioned in passing earlier, only to be dismissed out of hand. In the midst of a national crisis, no sane elder would bring up an extradimensional internet forum, nor could anyone fathom that a chunk of mythical whale droppings possessed the sheer buoyancy to hoist a mountain of granite into the sky.

Above all else, I would rather die than let them discover I am 'Allfather.'

One slip of the tongue, and his handle would be laid bare. On the Gallery, professing his true identity was harmless because everyone assumed he was a roleplaying eccentric. But the physical world was an entirely different beast. The second his fixed-handle was unmasked, his peaceful twilight years would be ruined forever.

Was he hiding it out of embarrassment over his unhinged forum banter? Absolutely not.

I refuse to surrender my monopoly on this research!

The thought of sharing the pristine, primordial specimens he received from Grylls with the rest of these leeches made his skin crawl. The intellectual gluttony rekindled in his old age demanded complete secrecy. The ambergris alone was worth decades of solitary study.

Wrestling with his conscience, Kadir resolved to defuse the immediate crisis first.

"Though I have walked this earth for centuries, the underlying cause remains elusive even to me. However, as the Chief Director stated, this is far from a natural phenomenon."

"Then you also suspect an unauthorized experiment is responsible, Lord Kadir?"

"It seems the most plausible explanation."

"Yet, levitating the entire Magic Tower would demand an unfathomable reservoir of mana..."

"Does our facility even house an energy source of that scale?"

"If the tower's foundational matrix itself were weaponized as a battery... it might just suffice."

An unsanctioned experiment. A hidden power conduit.

Because the chamber was filled with brilliant minds, their deductive reasoning began inching toward the truth, painfully slow but steady. With every logical leap they made, a bead of cold sweat formed on Kadir's brow. If investigators turned ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠his laboratory upside down, they wouldn't just find the ambergris—they would discover the sentient, chattering skull of the Undying King stashed inside his refrigeration unit.

I have to divert suspicion away from my quarters at all costs.

When the initial conference adjourned, Kadir hurried straight back to his lab. The ambergris greeted him with a steady, golden radiance. Why had it activated? Through what physical law was it exerting an anti-gravitational field on the surrounding earth? Because it was an incomprehensible relic of antiquity, he dared not prod it haphazardly. If he disrupted the equilibrium, the entire tower might plummet like an anvil.

Wait. Let me run the numbers. What is our current altitude?

Kadir snatched a stick of chalk and began frantically scrawling formulas across the blackboard. He calculated the tower’s mass, altitude, atmospheric drag, and the kinetic yield upon terminal impact. To make matters worse, the structure was packed to the brim with volatile alchemical reagents, high-density mana crystals, and magical reactors.

If the Magic Tower crashes from this height...

The mathematical proof was indisputable: the kinetic impact would rival a direct meteor strike. Furthermore, the Magic Tower was situated dead center within the capital of the Iris Kingdom. If it fell, the metropolis would be wiped clean from the earth, and the kingdom would collapse overnight. An apocalyptic spell like Meteor Storm would be far preferable; at least defensive barriers could mitigate magical heat and concussive shock, but no barrier on the continent could withstand the kinetic apocalypse of a falling mountain.

...Oh, Aragon preserve us.

Allfather stood frozen before the chalk-smeared board, stiff as a stone monument. No matter how many variables he tweaked, the conclusion was inescapable: total annihilation of the royal capital.

Flash! Flash!

Oblivious to the archmage's spiraling existential terror, the ambergris pulsed with a warm, serene glow. Kadir turned away from the blackboard to glare at the golden stone. It was roughly the size of an adult fist. How much longer could its buoyant field endure?

As if mocking his anxiety, a subtle change occurred.

Crumble...

A tiny, almost imperceptible dusting of golden powder shed from the stone's perimeter, dissolving into thin air. Nothing in creation was truly eternal, and relics of the mythic age were no exception.

Kadir went pale as a sheet.

...I am profoundly, irrevocably fucked.

Yet wallowing in despair would not save his neck. He lunged toward his private bookshelves, pulling down every manuscript, grimoire, and ancient chronicle that even brushed against the Mythological Era or Sky Whales. Parchments and leather-bound tomes piled up across the floor until they reached his waist. Normally, he would have savored such dense, esoteric reading with a cup of tea, but with a guillotine hanging over the kingdom, urgency overrode scholarly decorum.

I have to uncover the fundamental principle. By any means necessary!

Begging Grylls for another delivery of ambergris was an option, but that was merely extending the fuse on a ticking bomb. He had to master the mechanics of the substance before disaster struck.

I must grasp the knowledge of the gods!

A mortal archmage who had long surpassed the limits of humanity was now clawing toward divine wisdom—purely for the sake of survival.

Wait a moment. What about the Forest of the Four Seasons? Grylls has a chunk far larger than mine!

The thought struck him like lightning. Grylls possessed an enormous specimen compared to this fist-sized fragment. How was his shelter holding up? Even if stored within an extradimensional backpack, surely some environmental anomaly must have manifested. After all, Kadir had sealed his own sample inside an enchanted case, yet the entire tower had still taken flight.

Kadir frantically logged into the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Gallery.

The forums were already in an uproar, flooded with shitposts and conspiracy threads about the 'Flying Magic Tower' and the 'Ascended Spire.' Ignoring the chatter, he combed through Wild Grylls' post history to see if a similar calamity had struck the forest.

Nothing happened?!

Kadir nearly coughed up blood. One man’s tower was rocketing toward the stratosphere while the other was playing sandbox games with divine relics! Was the spatial density of the Forest of the Four Seasons neutralizing the levitation, or was something else at work?

W-Wait, what about Praise the Sun? Didn't that dark elf receive some as well?

Kadir desperately scrolled down to find the desert noble's recent updates.

The responses were infuriating in an entirely different way.

Kadir slammed his interface shut, rubbing his throbbing temples as he returned to the harsh reality of his workshop.

I have to figure this out myself...!

Thus began the desperate chronicle of a human mage attempting to unravel the wisdom of the gods.

Around the same time, deep within the Forest of the Four Seasons.

"Hey. Just close your eyes and take one bite. I really wanna see if eating it makes you fly."

"Take it away."

"I'll give you something delicious afterward if you chew it down."

"Bad guy. Truly a bad guy."

Grylls was currently conducting clinical trials on Ggobongi.

Confronted with such terrifying domestic tyranny, Ggobongi put his rapidly improving linguistic fluency on full display to mount a desperate defense.

While an archmage on the other side of the world was frantically consuming ancient texts to avert a national cataclysm, a survivor in the woods was testing mythical anomalies with the intellectual nuance of a curious toddler.

"Just hold your breath and swallow once. Technically speaking, Bbarmbo ate a piece too, didn't he?"

"You are evil. Serpent's tongue."

"Where on earth did you pick up a phrase like that?"

And doing so without a single shred of responsibility.