Even in the Ruins, Flowers Bloom
No sooner had I finished speaking than Clovis's pupils shook violently. Was he surprised? Or did he suspect some ulterior motive? Either way, it didn't matter. I was the one who knew his hand inside out.
"...Lord Argent, you're saying you'll accompany us?"
"Yes. Even if I'm the only one."
"May I ask why?"
"Is there any particular reason? I simply thought it wouldn't set a good example for the Magic Tower Lord to handle such a minor matter personally, so I'm volunteering to take the lead."
It was far from minor. But it was true that it wasn't something Clovis needed to handle himself. Before he took over as Tower Lord, the Magic Association members usually formed teams to investigate Chaos Mana outbreaks and return.
I pointed that out tactfully, and Clovis's face twisted in irritation.
'He must be itching.'
In the original story, Clovis was obsessed with Chaos Mana. He believed its power was key to reaching the 8th Circle—or even the mythical 9th Circle that no one in history had touched. That was due to the vast mana it contained.
During one such investigation, he visited Rozmil Village, corrupted by Chaos Mana, and discovered Yuria. Born with the Star's Grace of Gluttony, she had an overwhelming ability to fully absorb any power—mana, divine force, emotions, or cognition—at the cost of losing those faculties.
Caught in the Chaos Mana storm, Yuria absorbed its near-infinite mana completely, gaining an amount no grand archmage in the story could rival. Clovis recognized it instantly, took her to the tower, turned her into a human weapon, and siphoned her power bit by bit to reach the 8th Circle—until he got caught. That was his main arc.
"If you're willing, I'd be grateful. The kid's swamped with tower duties anyway, and I was just looking for someone else."
"Is that so? Perfect timing, then."
Grita accepted without knowing her disciple's true intentions. As I smiled triumphantly, Clovis's face soured further. He even shot her a fierce glare, as if telling her not to interfere.
What a disrespectful punk. Shooting those eyes at his sky-like master.
"What do you say, Lord Haven? With Lady Grita saying so too, why not leave this to me?"
"...No. We leave at dawn today—how could I burden the star of this gathering?"
Smooth talker, spouting that without batting an eye. But I was confident I could match his shamelessness.
"Haha, burden? As a junior, it's my joy to lighten a senior's load. Besides, this gathering was getting awkward for me anyway. Now I have an excuse to slip out—it's perfect."
I let out a hearty laugh that didn't suit me at all, and I could visibly see tension grip Clovis's hand. Veins bulging. He might swing at me.
With me pushing this hard, he couldn't refute easily. After all, that's how I was before regaining my past-life memories. I recalled the whispers among the association: "The kid's smart, but his social skills..." Living 22 years as a bookish loner had its rewards today.
"Very well. But you still have tower lord duties, so accompany us this time."
"As you wish. When do we depart?"
"As soon as preparations are done. In one hour... no, two hours. Meet at your lodgings. I'll have the carriage ready."
This guy almost said one hour, then corrected himself. Slip of the tongue? I let it slide for now.
"Understood. See you then. Still weary from travel, I should rest in my room."
"What about the celebration? The old fogeys dragged me into bringing fine liquors from every region."
As I turned to leave, my master clucked his tongue and grabbed me. I didn't hate drink, and "fine liquors" perked my ears, but...
"You two go ahead. Master, catch up with the others. I brought some on the way—perfect for an alumni gathering."
More pressing matters now, so I declined politely. I figured my booze-hound master would light up at that.
"Tch, come on. I came all this way to celebrate, and you're so rigid."
Surprisingly, he clucked his tongue, looking disappointed. Probably wanted to brag about me to his fellow old-timers over drinks.
"I know you always look out for me, Master. I'm grateful."
"Gross, kid. Save the empty words and catch a nap. It'll be rough."
"Yes, sir."
It wasn't empty, but I smiled wryly and left the meeting hall, hurrying to my lodgings.
'Suspicious indeed.'
Clovis's attitude bothered me, so I set an alarm for thirty minutes later and lay down.
Ring ring ring!
The blaring alarm woke me early. Stepping out, I caught him red-handed.
"Y-You're already here?"
As expected, this maniac was about to ditch me and start the carriage. Gotcha, you bastard.
***
Rozmil Village lay about three hours southeast of Arkanell by carriage. I dozed off inside and arrived to find it unrecognizable as a village.
A massive monster attack fueled by Chaos Mana had left corpses bleeding on the outskirts and mad villagers wandering. Being small spared it worse casualties—a city would have been a slaughter.
"Chaos Mana's aftermath."
"Your first time seeing it?"
"Yes."
Short exchange as we walked the fire-ravaged village center.
Whoosh!
Each step unleashed waterfalls from all sides, dousing the flames.
"Just in case, I'll search for more survivors. You take that side, Lord Haven."
"Be careful. Monsters might still lurk."
"Got it. See you soon."
We split to investigate. Once Clovis was out of sight, I dashed into the charred homes without looking back.
"She has to be around here somewhere..."
I spread my mana wide for detection, but the thick Chaos Mana in the air made distinguishing humans tough. Eventually, gasping for breath, I rummaged manually.
"Keeek!"
Crunch!
Occasional monsters hid between houses, but they scattered to dust before touching me.
Fewer monsters than expected. Did they move since everyone died? No. Chaos Mana lingered strongly here. They weren't drawn to humans, but to dense mana sources. They killed humans to devour mana.
Such beasts wouldn't abandon this spot so soon...
'Wait—mana?'
A spark of insight hit. Drawn to vast mana. And there was one such being right here.
I spread mana again. Humans were hard to pinpoint amid Chaos Mana, but a monster cluster? Detectable.
"Over there."
Near the village outskirts leading to a secluded back hill, small lifeforms—monsters—clustered.
Racing there, I heard chirping ahead.
"Kirruk!"
"Kieeek!"
"......"
The sight upon arrival was unbelievable. Monsters packed like a dust cloud, but they were crumbling to dust one by one before my eyes. Like moths and bugs swarming a bonfire, wings burning away to ash.
And at the center, playing bonfire, sat a girl hugging her knees.
Dead. That was my first thought seeing her.
Her eyes reflected nothing. No attachment to life, no will—just emotionless void. Though breathing, it wasn't truly alive.
She didn't flee approaching monsters, just leaned against a stone wall, awaiting death. Burns scarring her face, bruises and scrapes everywhere—she seemed oblivious to pain.
Swish...
Yet heaven denied her end. Monsters lunging for the final blow shattered against an invisible barrier, leaving no trace.
"...Yuria."
Her name slipped out unbidden. I knew we hadn't been introduced, but that pitiful sight...
"Who are you?"
Fortune in misfortune—she looked up blankly, devoid of wariness. A child accepting death wouldn't flinch at a name.
I approached step by step without answering.
"Don't come. You'll die too."
She weakly raised a skeletal hand to stop me. Indifferent to her own death, but not others'? Heartbreaking.
I gently grasped her hand. Her dead eyes widened slightly—perhaps surprised I was unharmed.
"It's fine. I'm not fragile enough to die from that."
"...You're a mage?"
"Yes. Name's Baal Argent. Heard of me?"
"Uh-uh."
She shook her head. No surprise. I'd hoped the Argent name would reassure her, but now I'd go by the book.
"Not boasting, but I'm a fairly known mage. From the Argent Duke family."
"Duke? Noble?"
"Yes, you know it."
"Why here?"
"As you see, cleaning up Chaos Mana damage. Bit late, though..."
I swallowed the rest, looking at her again.
"No place to stay, huh."
"No."
"Come with me, then?"
"Why?"
Pure curiosity why offer kindness. Most kids in her shoes would spark with hope, but she just tilted her head innocently.
"Looking for a disciple."
"Disciple? I don't know magic."
I nearly laughed. One of the story's top three talents, dubbed highest potential, saying that.
"No one starts knowing magic. Not even me."
"Then... teach magic?"
"If you want. Any magic you crave?"
"Yes."
Unexpected. Ears perked, she pointed straight at my chest.
"Mom who left said I have no emotions. Scary, she said."
"......"
"But I don't know scary. Or emotions Mom meant."
Her voice flat, robotic, doll-like.
"So, wanna learn. Magic to awaken emotions. Exists?"
"Yes."
"Really?"
"Of course."
It exists. Or if not, I'd make it. I'd just learned it myself—Liriet's miracle. If not magic, what was it? Now my turn to make it real.
"Then I'll go."
"You sure? Not my place, but..."
"Sure. And..."
Still emotionless, she glanced at her hand in mine.
"First time someone held my hand."
I took that as her first spark of joy.