The Mage Tower Lord and His Grandson
Whoosh—!
A holographic image of Asrion flickered to life above the crystal orb, woven from strands of blue mana. But the state of his grandson within the projection was far from the dignified genius Decaron had expected. Gone was the usual calm arrogance of the young noble. His face was flushed with rage, veins bulging. The bridge of his nose was slightly reddened. Above all, his eyes were bloodshot with an indelible humiliation and shame.
"Grandfather! A wicked black mage who uses evil magic has enrolled in the academy!"
"He used a sinister illusion artifact of unknown origin to vilely mock me and deliberately blew up the summoning circle— that horrific fraud!"
"Please lead an investigation team from the Mage Tower right now and uncover that commoner's true nature, piece by piece, and destroy him! It's a disgrace to the empire's magic world for such an evil heretic to be in the Diamond Class!"
Asrion's voice brimmed with venomous resentment and fury. He was utterly convinced that every humiliation he'd suffered was a thorough deception.
The projection ended, and the blue light faded.
Crash—!
The finest porcelain teacup in Decaron's hand plummeted to the floor and shattered into pieces. Hot black tea soaked the ground, but he had no time to care.
Decaron's face turned ashen, like he'd seen a corpse.
'You idiot! You stupid fool!'
A blaze of fury erupted within him.
The overwhelming scene he'd witnessed earlier that day in the academy's grand training hall still lingered vividly before his eyes. The eerie feats and talent displayed by that 13-year-old boy. It was a calamity-like abyss even he, a 9-Circle grand mage, couldn't fathom.
Yet his own grandson was blindly convinced that this miraculous greatness was some evil black magic artifact. Worse, he was begging to unleash the Mage Tower's power directly against that walking disaster.
'Did I overestimate my grandson?'
Decaron had thought it would be good motivation. He'd believed seeing a genius superior to himself would spur his grandson to greater heights.
But clearly, he'd misjudged the boy.
"Damn it all!"
Decaron had long since cast aside any concern for appearances. He clutched the hem of his fluttering robe and kicked open the door to his office with savage force.
No time even for the elevator magic circle. He bolted down the stairs like a madman, hurtling toward the massive teleportation circle at the Mage Tower's lowest level.
"Huh? Tower Lord?"
"He just got back, and now he's setting coordinates for the academy again?"
The Mage Tower mages managing the teleport circle whispered in bewilderment.
"Yeah, what? Did he forget something important?"
"He's been so busy today. Looked dazed earlier, and now he's pale as a ghost."
Decaron ignored his subordinates' murmurs. There was no time.
"Enough chatter—teleport me to the academy now!"
Fwaaah—!
With a burst of intense mana light, Decaron's form vanished from the Mage Tower. To conserve his own mana for emergencies, he'd opted for the teleport circle instead of spatial transfer magic.
In front of Solarrium Academy's main building.
Space warped, and Mage Tower Lord Decaron appeared. He immediately closed his eyes and scattered vast mana to scan toward the Diamond Class dorms, searching for Asrion's presence.
But his senses kept bouncing off the academy's grand structures, blocked every time.
"Tch, these damn barriers!"
Decaron ground his teeth in irritation.
The Imperial Solarrium Academy wasn't just any school. It was a fortress protecting students, layered with powerful interference barriers erected by countless grand mages over centuries. Unless within a certain distance, detection or search magic couldn't pinpoint individuals accurately.
Even his 9-Circle grand mage senses struggled against this ironclad barrier network.
'No time to search room by room!'
Decaron whirled around and hurried toward the top floor of the main building.
Bam—!
The thick oak door to the dean's office flew open as if it might shatter.
The dean, buried in a barrage of complaint paperwork at his desk, jumped in shock and looked up.
"What brings you here again, Tower Lord brother?"
His voice dripped with bafflement and exhaustion. He'd thought the man had quietly left after the dragon fiasco in the training hall earlier. Yet here he was again, not even an hour later, face drained of color.
"Dean! No time for talk—get my foolish grandson... Asrion here to this office now! Broadcast it, send people, whatever—just find him!"
Decaron slammed the desk, shouting urgently.
"Pardon? Student Asrion? In the middle of the night, why...?"
"No time to explain! Damn it, Brook! Call him now!!"
The usual dignified Tower Lord was gone, replaced by a bloodshot-eyed, snarling old man. So desperate he'd even dropped the dean's name and any pretense of decorum.
Dean Brook sighed and shook his head.
"Alright, Decaron brother. I'll broadcast a recall across the whole academy."
The dean activated the microphone on his desk.
"Ahem. Student Asrion of first-year Diamond Class, please come to the dean's office on the top floor of the main building immediately. Repeating..."
The dean's voice echoed throughout the academy.
The library.
Asrion, reading at a table, snapped his head up at the announcement from thin air.
The morning's humiliation and rage. To wash away that shame, he'd sent his grandfather a desperate video communication right after lunch. And now, the response had come.
'Grandfather's here!'
Joy lit up Asrion's gray eyes. He shot to his feet.
Even in the dead of night, his grandfather had rushed across the distance to this distant academy out of boundless love. As expected of the pinnacle of the empire's magic, the Mage Tower Lord.
'Finally, the Mage Tower's power will deal with that evil fraud!'
Asrion clenched his fist, certain of victory. With his grandfather's 9-Circle magic, he could pierce the truth of that vile black magic artifact Rian was hiding in an instant. Imagining that commoner exposed as a fraud before all and miserably expelled already made his chest feel wide open.
Asrion quickly straightened his clothes. He squared his slumped shoulders and strode out of the library with majestic steps.
'Wait, you lowly scum. Your era ends in a single day.'
A grin wouldn't leave his face all the way to the main building. He arrived at the dean's office and composed himself before knocking lightly.
Knock-knock.
"I've come as per the announcement."
"Enter."
His grandfather's voice came from within. With permission, he stepped inside.
"Grandfather! You called for me!"
Asrion greeted Decaron, standing in the middle of the dean's office, with polite yet joyful formality. The dean must have stepped out; only the two of them were in the room.
Decaron slowly turned from gazing out the window to look at his grandson. His face was terrifyingly cold and rigid.
'First, check his state.'
Decaron barely suppressed the urge to smack his grandson's back. He hoped the boy had come to his senses. Pretending ignorance, he spoke calmly to draw him out.
"Yes. I saw the video communication you sent. You seemed quite desperate."
"Yes, Grandfather!"
Asrion, convinced his grandfather was on his side, eagerly launched into his tale. To embellish the morning's humiliation, his delusions had ballooned even grander.
"That commoner is absolutely not a 4-Circle mage! Yesterday's summoning circle explosion and knocking me down today were all vile tricks using an evil black magic artifact!"
Asrion's eyes gleamed like a zealot's.
"He cast a sinister illusion to confuse my mind and mock the pride of the Mage Tower—me! Even Her Highness the princess and Lady Edelgart have been blinded by his shallow deception! In the Mage Tower's name, arrest him immediately and conduct a thorough investigation!"
Not a shred of doubt. Perfect conviction. Asrion had already solidified his delusion of Rian as a fraud into absolute truth. It was the pathetic self-justification his brain had conjured because he couldn't accept his defeat.
Decaron listened to the nonsense in silence. His gray eyes gradually cooled to ice.
"...Are you done?"
Decaron's voice dropped ominously low.
Asrion, oblivious to the chill, nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes, Grandfather. Assemble an investigation team right away!"
Decaron approached his grandson slowly. Then, in a voice like winter frost, he asked,
"Asrion. Those words you just spoke to me—are they your heartfelt truth, without a single doubt?"
Asrion felt a flicker of puzzlement at the heavy question. But without hesitation, he lifted his chin proudly.
"Of course! I swear on the empire's safety and the Mage Tower's honor—he's undoubtedly a horrific fraud!"
Conviction-filled answer. Hearing it, Decaron closed his eyes and fell silent. He clenched his trembling fist.
He pondered deeply what he must do to salvage this foolish, pathetic bloodline.
And at last, his pent-up rage exploded.
"You stupid brat!!!"
Kwaaaang—!
The tremendous roar, drawn from a 9-Circle grand mage's dantian, thundered through the narrow dean's office like it might burst it apart. The windows rattled violently, and papers on the desk scattered into the air like a storm had hit.
Asrion froze in shock at his grandfather's sudden fury, utterly bewildered.
"G-Grandfather...?"
His pupils shook wildly in confusion. This was the grandfather who should praise and comfort him. Yet he was unleashing rage directly at him.
In this incomprehensible situation, Asrion could only stand there, dumbstruck.