The Tower of Time
The Ivory Tower.
A cabal of mages that had led humanity's progress for two thousand years. The turning point in their fortunes—when an organization in such an absolutely dominant position on the Continent began to falter—was partly the dawn of the Age of Necromancers and Priests, but even before that, there had been one decisive event.
A Dungeon Gate had opened at the very top floor of the Ivory Tower.
It had appeared roughly three hundred years ago—a dungeon bearing an anomalous phenomenon that warped time itself. Absorbing and fusing with the countless spells woven throughout the tower, the dungeon swelled and grew into the worst catastrophe in human history.
"From an outsider's perspective, it was a disaster waiting to happen," said the Kizen Headquarters staff member. "They were researching time magic at the top floor of the Ivory Tower's headquarters, you see."
Simon, listening quietly, widened his eyes. "Time?"
"Indeed. The Ivory Tower spent no less than two thousand years ruling over humanity and driving its progress. Their desire to conquer even time was, in a way, only natural." The staff member adjusted his glasses and continued. "They wanted to recover the lost arcane knowledge of the past and seize dominion over the future for all eternity. It was hubris."
He judged that the Dungeon Gate which had opened atop the Ivory Tower was less a natural disaster than a man-made one. The mages' excessive magic—bent on controlling time—was what had summoned a dungeon of time itself.
Whatever the truth, it cost the Ivory Tower's Master of that era and all his disciples—thousands of lives in total—before they finally managed to seal the dungeon.
The Ivory Tower then abandoned the tower left in ruins by the gate incident and relocated to a new one. That new tower is the Ivory Tower Headquarters of today.
And the old tower was left behind, having become a sealed dungeon.
"People call it the Tower of Time." The staff member laced his fingers together and lowered his voice. "But as the years passed, the seal has loosened, and the power of time has been leaking out little by little. Inside the Tower of Time, mountains of knowledge accumulated over more than two thousand years of the Ivory Tower's occupancy come pouring out, alongside dazzling and mysterious phenomena. So once every five years, the Ivory Tower holds a festival to reveal these 'mysteries' even to outsiders."
The staff member extended his hand. "And that festival is precisely the Festival of Time to which you two will be going."
Simon's eyes lit up as he listened. "…Th-that actually sounds fun."
He had been nervous when they'd said it was a dispatch, but this turned out to be a genuinely fascinating place. A place where the Continent's time itself lay bound—he wanted to see it at least once in his life.
Merida seemed to share the feeling, glancing over the documents with somewhat more awake eyes than usual.
"So what are we supposed to do there?"
It was her first question.
"The interior of the tower is a space of mystery, but a dungeon is a dungeon, so monsters do appear," the staff member replied. "You'll eliminate the monsters, clean out the tower, excavate buried knowledge—roughly that sort of assignment. The Ivory Tower will brief you on the specifics."
Not bad at all.
It wasn't a trip to the Ivory Tower faction's headquarters proper, but a dispatch to enjoy a festival in the Tower of Time while working. Of course, as they were coming in a working capacity, it would be more demanding than for ordinary guests—but it was still a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
"As long as you're careful of unexpected variables, I expect it will go smoothly." With that, the staff member drew two small necklace artifacts from his bag and held them out. "What are these?"
"Artifacts made personally by Lady Nephthys."
Simon and Merida each took a necklace. "She said that inside the Tower of Time, they will protect you should any unforeseen situation arise."
Simon examined the artifact. A tiny clock hung at the end of the chain—apparently a different kind from that artifact which had turned back time during the Saintess incident.
The staff member offered no special explanation about the artifact. He merely said that they would come to understand it naturally, and to simply keep it with them.
"For now, you will be visiting the Festival of Time as invited guests. Here are the detailed arrangements sent over by the Ivory Tower—dress code, rules, and so forth."
There's a dress code too?
Festival or not, this was remarkably formal.
"That concludes the briefing. I wish you both luck."
After bidding the staff member farewell, Simon and Merida left the reception room. Night had fallen while they hadn't noticed, and the two walked side by side down a moonlit corridor.
"…"
Only the low thud-thud of their footsteps echoed in the silence. Feeling oddly awkward, Simon stole a glance at Merida. Whatever drowsiness she'd been holding back had come flooding back—she was nodding off as she walked.
While walking, no less.
"Merida, you okay?"
Her steps stopped. Still nodding with sleep, she opened her subspace and carefully pulled out a blanket, spreading it on the floor. Then she simply hurled herself at it, diving face-first onto the blanket.
"Wait! You can't sleep here!"
Just as a horrified Simon rushed over and began shaking her awake—
Her fingertip, raised in a flash, touched Simon's forehead.
"?!"
Simon staggered and pitched forward on top of Merida.
S-Sleep?
Overwhelming drowsiness poured through his mind. My consciousness almost vanished in an instant…!
He had no idea how many stacks had landed at once, but even Simon was struggling to hold on. He was barely enduring through sheer superhuman willpower when—
"Hm."
Merida's eyes fluttered open as she lay there. "And here I had expectations, since you're the man Phantassus chose." She continued with a completely blank expression. "How disappointing."
"M-Merida!"
Merida pressed her finger to Simon's forehead again. More Sleep stacks piled on, and Simon, unable to hold out any longer, collapsed onto her like a marionette with its strings cut.
"You—ghk! What is this—!"
"A test."
A soft, honeyed voice like a lullaby drifted from her lips. "Whether you're truly worthy of receiving the Hugh family's Sleep."
"This Sleep…! Let go of me…!"
When Simon spoke through gritted teeth, Merida blinked slowly, vacantly. "Is it hard? It should only feel wonderfully, wonderfully sleepy."
"No, that's—that's not the point…!"
Just then, a noisy burst of laughter came from the staircase below.
"So that night, he grabbed Rebecca and—!"
"No way, seriously? They actually kissed?"
"I saw it with my own eyes! He wrapped his arm right around her waist and—"
The two female students, chattering away without a care, froze mid-step.
"?!"
A blanket strewn across the floor. A girl lying there, blinking vacantly, utterly defenseless. And atop her, a boy squirming and struggling.
At the sight of the two entangled in such an unmistakably intimate position, the girls' faces flushed crimson as if they'd witnessed a ghost.
"KYAAAAAAA!"
"A-at school! School! School! AT SCHOOOOOL!"
It was that exact scene they'd only ever read about in stories and books. Their eyes spun in circles from the shocking spectacle.
"Hold on!"
Simon shouted, face burning red. "This is—!"
"Sorry for interruptiiiing!"
And they bolted back down the stairs they'd come up.
So this is how it ends up, huh. Head throbbing, Simon groaned. "Merida! What is this?!"
Whether she didn't understand the situation, or simply didn't care, Merida only tilted her head.
By now Simon was getting genuinely angry too. He couldn't just keep taking this lying down, he thought.
"!"
This time, it was Merida's eyelids that trembled. Then her eyes squeezed tight with resolve. "How dare you. Hnnnngh—challenge me… with that technique?"
"You… started… it… first."
"I won't… go easy… on youuuu…."
The female students hiding at the bottom of the stairs were trembling, hands clamped over their mouths.
'W-with what technique are they competing?!'
'Started WHAT first?!'
Unable to bear the direction of the conversation a second longer, they gave up on eavesdropping and fled, faces scarlet.
"Haa. Haa."
Meanwhile, Merida and Simon, in perfect harmony, had each loaded four stacks, fingertips pointed at one another's foreheads.
"Slee… py? You can… just… go to… sleep, you know."
Simon forced a smile through his blurring vision. "That's… my… line."
Merida blinked heavily.
Simon was enduring by detonating the Jet-Black across his entire body, forcing himself into his awakened state. Merida seemed to be doing the same, dark energy billowing off her in hazy waves.
From a distance, it looked like a man and woman entangled on a blanket, spewing nothing but Jet-Black—and it was beyond eerie.
After a brief battle of nerves, the two finally confronted the reality that if this kept up, they might both fall asleep right there.
"We release on… one… two, three."
"…Fine."
"One… two, three."
"…"
"…"
"Why didn't… you release…?"
"You… said it… first."
Both of them were on the verge of their reason evaporating entirely. In the end, Simon—who retained slightly more of his—sighed and spoke. "Fine… I'll release… first. You do it too."
Merida, eyelids already half-shut and clearly at her limit, bit her lip and nodded. Simon raised his sluggish arms and managed a labored clap.
Clap!
The instant the sound rang out, Merida's eyes snapped wide open.
"I win."
The girl who'd been sprawled on the floor sprang to her feet—and now it was Simon who lay defenseless on the ground, with her perched on top of him.
"I won."
She pressed her fingertip to Simon's forehead like the muzzle of a gun. Simon spoke through his slack, flushed face. "That's not what we agreed—no, wait, first—don't just climb on me—! Seriously!"
Merida lifted her finger from his forehead with a knowing, meaningful look on her face.
And then—
Flick—
She snapped her fingers. As if that were the signal, the drowsiness vanished like a ghost fleeing at dawn.
"That'll be all for now."
Merida lowered her hand. Simon, who'd been wringing out every last drop of Jet-Black, finally sagged in relief.
Ahem. Ahem.
At the sound of a cough from beside them, Simon's head whipped around.
The Kizen Headquarters staff member, papers gathered in hand to leave, was watching the scene with a distinctly amused smile.
…Ah. I'm dead.
Fortunately, the staff member didn't say anything in particular.
He calmly admonished Simon and Merida over their scuffle, then sent them off toward the dormitories.
Please, please, don't let some weird rumor spread around the school.
Simon was walking along with that thought when he noticed, a moment too late, a card sticking out of his shirt pocket. It had been slipped in secretly by the staff member earlier. On the back was a written message.
I'm sorry for the trouble, but please return to the reception room. Alone, of course.
So that's why he let it slide so easily.
It felt like being caught and scolded by an adult. In the worst case, he might even report it to the professors.
He'd technically committed no crime, but Simon's feet dragged the whole way as he trudged back to the reception room.
"You came. Sit down."
The staff member sat in exactly the same posture as before. Simon dropped hastily into his seat. "Please, just hear me out! What happened was—!"
"Ah, youth. It's a wonderful thing."
The staff member curled the corners of his mouth. "Everyone's like that at your age. I was no different. It brings back memories of my secret rendezvous with 'the Girl of the Deadly Poison Department.' Our first meeting was during a duel evaluation, when she slipped laxatives into my dinner—"
"I'm not interested!"
Simon shook his head with all his might, arms crossed in a giant X. The staff member, who'd been about to launch into a story from his student days, leaned back in his chair with evident disappointment.
"Then, to the main matter at hand."
He swept his hand through the air, and suddenly the room was enveloped on all sides by a pitch-black membrane.
Layer upon layer of soundproofing and isolation magic arrays could be seen coiling around the reception room.
"I've taken the liberty of attending to security. What follows is top-secret classified information."
The air changed.
The staff member opened his subspace and drew a pitch-black envelope from his briefcase, holding it out to Simon. "You must not breathe a word of this to your partner, Merida."
This was a mission entrusted to Simon and Simon alone.
"The Ivory Tower extended invitations to two students under the pretext of a dispatch to the Festival of Time, held once every five years. Kizen accepted the proposal. The two students will carry out their dispatch duties within the Tower of Time. That much is the story visible on the surface."
As the staff member spoke, Simon—with a taut, guarded expression—drew a stiff sheet of white paper from the black envelope.
"From this moment forward, this is a secret mission entrusted by Headquarters solely to the Student Council President."