Magic Tower Lord Beatrice
Magic Tower Lord Beatrice.
It was a violent speed that seemed ready to tear the forest apart.
There was no question about it — the performance of the S-rank-exceeding mechanical beast Fenrir had blown past my expectations by a mile.
Terrain ignore?
No. That thing was running by deleting the terrain.
Sheer cliff faces it leapt across like flat ground; rushing rivers it trod over as if they were solid earth. And the ride quality was so smooth it felt like floating on clouds. Could anything be more perfect?
Even thinking about it now makes me dizzy…
Without the gallery crowd's advice, this would have been dangerous. If I'd come this far on foot or by ordinary carriage — what then? A distance that would have taken a full week by coach, this monster had covered in a mere three hours.
No wonder it was rated SSR.
"That must be it."
Far off, beyond the horizon, a vast silver-white civilization revealed itself.
The pure essence of magic engineering under the Magic Tower's dominion — Arche.
We had arrived.
This was no mere stone fortification. Seamless silver-white metal outer walls, refined without a single joint, flashed like lightning under the sun. A fortress that rose with the grandeur of some colossal machine component. Truly a city worthy of the continent's greatest concentration of technology.
Before its oppressive main gate stood two men in armor reinforced by magic engineering, planted like gatekeepers. The peculiar detail was the robe hoods pulled over their armor. They gave off the heavy atmosphere unique to so-called mage-knights — a blend of mage and swordsman.
I gradually eased Fenrir's speed and came to a stop before them.
"Good work, gentlemen."
When I offered a leisurely greeting, the two sentries reflexively gripped their sword hilts and snapped into a defensive stance.
"Who goes there!"
"State your affiliation and identity!"
Affiliation and identity, was it.
I dismounted from Fenrir with elegant composure, then drew my credentials from my coat.
"Aris Mardia. Counselor affiliated with the Holy See."
"…!"
The sentries checked the silver badge in my hand, exchanged a look, then dropped their wariness and nodded.
"…Identity confirmed. An honored guest from the Holy See, then."
Even as they stepped aside, however, their eyes remained locked on Fenrir standing behind me. I could see their pupils trembling without rest.
These little shits.
Hell yeah — this is an isekai Ferrari!
I swallowed the boast rising to my throat and put on a deliberately innocent smile.
"Is there something on my steed, by any chance?"
"N-no, nothing like that… it's just…"
Their faces might as well have had I WANT IT written across them.
This wasn't simple curiosity. It was the instinctive thrill of technicians who had just witnessed over-technology that didn't even exist in their own city. In modern terms, it was roughly the feeling of looking at a guy who owns a Ferrari.
"But this unit… what exactly is it?"
"The mana circuits aren't registering, and the output is high enough to overload the scanners…"
One sentry swallowed dryly and pointed toward Fenrir's foreleg.
"Over-technology of this caliber is a realm even our magic engineers and archmages have failed to achieve. Where on earth did you obtain it?"
A level even Arche's pride — magic engineering — could not approach. Reverence was already seeping into their eyes.
I gave Fenrir's sleek nape a light stroke and shrugged as if it were nothing.
"This thing?"
I grinned and, for show, nudged Fenrir's output a fraction higher.
Grrrooooom—————!
Kyaaaarrrrrrr—————!
An engine roar like a great beast's howl, shaking the ground. The sentries flinched and scrambled backward.
"I just picked out a sturdy one. …It's a trade secret, though. May I pass now?"
The overwhelming performance gap. An attitude that said further explanation wasn't worth the breath. That alone was enough for the sentries to break into a cold sweat and hastily open the gates.
"P-please go through! We apologize for the discourtesy!"
The path was open.
Just as I was about to twist the throttle, one sentry suddenly remembered something and rushed to block my way.
"W-wait a moment! If you've come from the Holy See… are you here to see Lady Beatrice?"
I didn't take my hands off the handlebars — just tipped my head.
"That's correct."
The system quest window had explicitly instructed me to meet Magic Tower Lord Beatrice, after all.
"I knew it! Forgive the interruption. We've received a message from the Magic Tower Lord."
Magic Tower Lord Beatrice.
Even I, whose knowledge of this world's lore wasn't deep, had heard the name. The living strongest archmage on the continent, master of every form of magic. A figure with enough influence to be called a free pass into the Hero Party. In this city, her standing almost certainly went beyond mere nobility — she was the city's master itself.
The sentry bowed deeply and continued.
"Her orders were that when a 'guest riding a strange steel beast' arrives, all procedures are to be waived and he is to be escorted to the top floor at once."
A strange steel beast.
Anyone could tell that meant Fenrir.
How did she know? Has information already leaked? Or is it foresight?
Well, whether she used clairvoyance or prophecy, I didn't care. If it meant skipping the tedious entry screening and pathfinding quest, that was a win for me.
"I shall guide you. This way, please."
The sentry produced a small magic stone from his coat, and a circular floating board rose from the floor. He took the lead and began gliding away.
I curled one corner of my mouth and adjusted Fenrir's engine output.
"Nice service."
The massive silver wolf gave chase behind the sentry.
Inside the walls, the cityscape was far more wondrous than it had looked from outside. Airships fitted with mana engines traced orbits across the sky, while wheel-less carriages raced along the roads like maglev trains. A landscape that felt like fantasy with a spoonful of sci-fi stirred in.
But the undisputed centerpiece was the colossal spike driven into the heart of the city — the Magic Tower.
The tower that pierced the earth and soared above the clouds seemed to arrogantly declare that it alone was the center of the world.
"This way. The unit you are riding will be taken to a private hangar."
Oh? VIP treatment already?
"Take good care of the oiling. He's a picky eater."
"Understood, sir."
I parked Fenrir in the VIP hangar on the Magic Tower's first floor, then stepped into the mana elevator the sentry indicated.
Wiiing————.
A smooth sense of weightlessness with no gravity to speak of. I was staring blankly at the floor indicator as the numbers climbed like mad when—
Ding———!
A clear chime sounded and the doors opened.
"We have arrived. The Magic Tower Lord is waiting."
The sentry bowed deeply at the entrance, as if he dared not set foot inside. I gave my clothes a light brush and stepped forward.
The top floor.
It felt less like an office than a vast cosmos — or a library. Hundreds of grimoires floated freely through the air. Complex geometric magic circles spun like holograms, embroidering the space.
And at the center of it all, a woman sat with her back to a massive panoramic window.
"…You arrived earlier than I expected."
Backlit by the sunlight pouring through the window, the chair slowly rotated.
A languid figure draped loosely in a deep violet robe. Silver hair mussed as if she'd just woken, yet all the more alluring for it. And above all, golden eyes that seemed to pierce the principles of the world itself fixed upon me.
An overwhelming presence that pressed against the skin. That woman was the ruler of Arche and the sage of the continent — Beatrice.
She flicked the quill in her hand into the air with a soft tok, then propped her chin and stared straight at me.
"Counselor of the Holy See, Aris Mardia."
A voice both languid and sharp enough to pierce the lungs. Her gaze swept over my entire body — an unpleasant yet strange sensation, as if an MRI were scanning me down to my organs.
"I've heard the rumors. That with a single word you can save a person's life… or cast them into the abyss…?"
I didn't flinch. I equipped my professional smile.
"You flatter me. I merely serve as a bit of navigation for lost little lambs."
"Hmm. Playing at humility… Still, rather entertaining."
White's Oath has been activated.
Affection with good-aligned NPCs increases by +20%.
…So she wasn't a villain, at least.
There was an authoritative air about her, but not to an unpleasant degree.
"I've been wanting to meet you. Your reputation is one thing, of course… but I was also watching you tear across the land toward this city on Fenrir through this crystal ball."
Crystal ball?
Ah — that thing on the desk. Who needs CCTV.
"I see. Haha, I'm honored. To think the Magic Tower Lord herself was stalking me."
"…What a mouth on you."
Beatrice snorted a laugh and crooked a finger. A teacup floating in midair drifted smoothly over and settled before me.
"Sit."
Not an invitation — a command.
I dropped onto the sofa opposite with an audible thud and crossed my legs. Her eyes narrowed.
"You've got nerve. No one but His Imperial Majesty has ever sat so casually in front of me."
"If I sit too stiffly in front of a client, we can't have a proper deep counseling session."
At my bold reply, Beatrice's eyebrow twitched. But she didn't seem displeased.
She lifted her teacup, wet her lips, then leaned forward as if ready to get to the point.
"Right. Enough small talk. That thing you rode in on."
My isekai Ferrari again. The popularity of this thing…
"Not a single mana wavelength to be sensed, yet output high enough to chew through the wall's defensive barrier on the way in. …Is it for sale?"
Beatrice's golden eyes glittered with scholarly hunger.
"…Excuse me?"
"How much? Would ten percent of the Magic Tower's budget be enough to part with it?"
This woman — the continent's archmage, and she was just a machine otaku?
"I'm sorry, but it's not for sale."
"…Hmm. A shame. I wanted to take that unit's structure apart and study it."
Chin propped, Beatrice let out a long sigh. The great Magic Tower Lord of the age was smacking her lips like a child denied a toy.
"Ah, Magic Tower Lord. Since I've been dispatched on Holy See business, perhaps we should start with the work…"
"Call me Beatrice."
"Ah, yes. Lady Beatrice. About the work…"
"Yes, yes. I lost my composure for a moment over your unit."
Beatrice cleared her throat and straightened her posture.
"Your reputation is so widespread… I called you because I wondered whether you might also fix my broken disciple."
"…Your disciple?"
"Indeed. Mocca Mellow. The finest genius magic engineer in this city, and the child who will succeed me."
So this time's target was Mocca Mellow.
The system notification had said as much, so it stood to reason. I nodded with an intrigued look.
"A genius magic engineer… Is there some problem with her?"
"I don't know the details myself, but she's shut herself in a corner and refuses to come out. In the young people's parlance these days, a homebody… or perhaps an energy-draining extreme introvert… At any rate, she's a hikikomori through and through."
Beatrice pressed her temples as if nursing a headache.
"It isn't even funny. She won't eat, won't go outside, and spends all day sitting there playing at that 'note-passing' nonsense."
"Note-passing?"
Beatrice jerked her chin toward a bulletin board on one wall. My gaze drifted there naturally.
An anonymous gallery board, rendered in holograms much like my own system interface, was active.
I rose from my seat and approached the hologram. And the moment I checked the contents, a hollow laugh burst out of me.
…Wow. Dizzying.
So this was this world's community?
Never mind that common sense had been thrown out with the bathwater — the firepower alone was no joke.
Beatrice looked at the hologram with a pitying gaze and spoke.
"She seems to be rolling around in that garbage dump… So. Can you go beyond that trash bin and drag that child back out into the world — into the light?"