Chapter 32
Chapter 32
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: A Tempting Offer
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“Where… is this? Why, why am I here?”
As Isabelle came to her senses, she realized she was standing in the middle of a peculiar corridor.
A stone roof and brick floor, with endless rows of marble pillars lining both sides like trees.
And between the pillars, a stark, blue vista was revealed.
“Crazy! This... this corridor. It's floating in the sky.”
Her legs gave out from under her, and Isabelle wrapped her arms around a nearby marble pillar.
Directly below the pillar, fluffy clouds drifted by leisurely.
As if unable to believe she was high up in the sky, Isabelle’s eyes trembled.
‘I was definitely in front of the statue in the ancient ruins just a moment ago. Then I lost consciousness, and suddenly I'm here... Huh? What's that? Is that... a door?’
At the far end of the sky corridor.
A room with its door wide open came into view, as if beckoning her to enter.
A faint light and a warm breeze flowed out of the room, gently caressing her face.
As if possessed, she let go of the pillar and moved forward.
Her earlier trembling forgotten, Isabelle strode forward with confident steps and soon arrived at the door.
Just as the light reflecting off the chandelier tickled her eyes, a youthful voice greeted Isabelle.
“We have been waiting. Please, have a seat.”
A young butler in a faceless mask gestured to one of the sheepskin chairs lined up beside a long, wooden table.
Her lips parted as if she had many questions, but she quickly composed herself and sat down carefully in the chair.
As soon as she was seated, Isabelle swallowed hard, her eyes darting toward the jade throne at the head of the wooden table.
‘Ah…’
Catching sight of the man in a faceless mask seated on the jade throne, Isabelle quickly lowered her gaze.
She had only looked for a brief moment.
Probably not even a full second.
But in that instant, her body was drenched in a cold sweat, and her face had turned deathly pale.
It was a completely foreign feeling.
A profound fear, like someone who had lived their whole life in sunlit plains descending into a cellar for the very first time.
Or the dizzying sensation of falling into an endless abyss.
Swept up in a panorama of emotions she could hardly describe, a drop of cold sweat trembled on the tip of Isabelle’s chin like a pendulum before falling.
“Welcome to the Castle, Lady.”
“What? Ah, yes... Thank you for welcoming me.”
Though usually arrogant, she didn't dare display any such attitude here.
An unimaginable sight for the wealthy and noble woman she was.
But she still couldn't even lift her head.
She couldn't muster the courage to face the man on the jade throne again.
‘Could that man be... the master of the statue?’
The master of the statue.
That implied the man was a god, or at least a being close to one.
Isabelle realized she was facing the opportunity—or crisis—of a lifetime.
Gods were capricious and eccentric.
Sometimes they were cruel, other times generous.
No one knew what their standards were.
Only gods could understand other gods.
‘Isabelle, get a grip. That... being, who seems to be a boy, said they were waiting for me and welcomed me. That means they were expecting me. Yes, they must want something from me.’
The thought that they wanted something from her helped Isabelle gradually regain her confidence.
Having made up her mind, she straightened her head.
However, she did not make the mistake of turning her head toward the jade throne.
She had no desire to risk provoking him.
Isabelle spoke with an air of dignity.
“Thank you for your welcome. I am Isabelle, a 4th Circle Master from the Senior Magic Tower.”
Had she been looking at the jade throne, she might have seen the faceless man's tapping leg pause for a moment, but she was too afraid to even glance in that direction.
The Butler nodded and spoke.
“Isabelle, whatever status you held, whatever abilities you possessed, and whatever name you bore in the outside world holds no meaning here. Now, in that spirit, please wear this.”
The Butler offered her a lady's mask, adorned with peacock feathers and jewels.
Captivated by the mask's beauty and splendor, Isabelle put it on.
As she did, a strange sense of calm washed over her, and her tension eased.
The Butler said.
“Please remember. From now on, you are not Isabelle, but the Lady. At least, while you are here.”
“I understand. But… you said earlier that you were waiting for me?”
“To be precise, we were not waiting for you, but for one with whom fate has connected us.”
Isabelle clenched her fists on her lap.
‘Fate? Don’t tell me, is he talking about anyone who entered those ruins?’
Isabelle cleared her throat, composing her mind and voice, then spoke.
“In any case, thank you for inviting me. Seeing as you're treating me with such hospitality, might you have something to ask of me…?”
The Butler let out a low chuckle.
“Lady, you seem to be under a great misunderstanding. Do you believe we have something to demand or receive from you?”
The Butler's mocking tone made Isabelle flinch.
Realizing her mistake, she quickly said.
“N-No. That's not it... It's just, when one is invited to a place like this... there's usually some kind of exchange... Ah, what am I even saying.”
As she devolved into incoherent rambling despite priding herself on her quick wit, Isabelle grimaced behind her mask.
The Butler clapped his hands lightly as if to calm her and said.
“Lady, we did not invite you here to demand something, but simply to share a light conversation with the one with whom our fates are intertwined.”
“Ah, yes… a conversation.”
A wave of disappointment washed over her, and Isabelle instinctively stopped herself from turning her head toward the man in the faceless mask.
A sense of crisis washed over her, a feeling that her mind would shatter if she looked upon the jade throne even one more time.
The Butler brought out the prepared coffee and refreshments and said.
“In that spirit, how about some tea time?”
“…That sounds lovely.”
* * *
An hour had already passed since their conversation began.
But the Butler's skill at listening intently and chiming in at the perfect moments was so effective that Isabelle, having shed her initial awkwardness, chattered on tirelessly.
“So I told that bastard Allen he was getting way too ahead of himself... ho ho, my apologies. I got a little excited. I told him he was acting completely out of line, but would he listen?”
“Hmm, a truly shameless person indeed. From what I hear, he acts as if he's the successor just because he has a bit of talent... but is the Lady not the rightful heir of the Tower?”
“That's what I'm saying! Yes! Well, I admit the bastard has talent. To be a 5th Circle beginner as a young elf not even a hundred years old... he's certainly a promising talent. But I'm not falling behind either. I'm already a 4th Circle master at one hundred and fifty!”
In truth, it was a rather poor achievement considering all the support she received as the Tower Master's daughter, but the Butler was not so foolish as to point out her blind spot to her face.
“Considering that many ordinary elf mages are fortunate to even reach the beginner level of the 4th Circle after turning two hundred, a prodigy such as yourself is certainly rare.”
“I knew you would understand, Butler…”
*Knock, knock.*
Just then, the man on the jade throne, who had not uttered a single word for over an hour, knocked on the armrest.
Isabelle’s eyes darted around nervously, and the Butler rose from his seat and approached the throne.
After listening to the man's whispers by the throne for a moment, the Butler bowed deeply and returned to his seat.
“It seems our Lord has taken a liking to you, Lady.”
Lord?
It was too humble a word to refer to a god, but Isabelle dared not show her puzzlement openly.
The man was a being she couldn't possibly fathom with her shallow knowledge.
Isabelle’s face brightened as she spoke with delight.
“He has? Ah! I am truly honored.”
“And he says that your position in the Tower seems rather precarious because of that wicked man, Allen.”
“…That's right. It is precarious. No one doubts that I am the rightful heir… but who am I trying to fool in your presence? Yes. People doubt my abilities. Those worthless fools dare to…”
“I can certainly see that. Hmm, if you don't mind my asking, how many allies do you have within the Tower?”
“My allies?”
“Yes. Your personal allies.”
Isabelle's voice became a whisper.
“Well… as for my father's faction, that's one thing, but as for my own personal allies…”
“Hmm, and what of Allen? Does he also lack a proper faction of supporters?”
Isabelle forced open her lips, which felt glued shut.
“…Allen has the support of far more people than I do.”
*Knock, knock.*
The man on the jade throne knocked on the armrest again. The Butler excused himself from Isabelle and once again went to the throne and back.
The Butler spoke in a tone of feigned surprise.
“Well, this is quite rare…. Lady, it seems our Lord is exceptionally pleased with you. Would you, by any chance, be willing to accept a gift from our Lord?”
At the word “gift,” Isabelle's expression filled with excitement.
“A gift? Oh, I would be so grateful for anything you would give me!”
“Our Lord appears displeased with the reality that you have fewer allies than the nefarious Allen. So… are there not a fair number of mid-level mages in the Tower who were unable to make their children into mages due to a lack of talent?”
“There are quite a few. Talent isn't something that's easily passed down. That's why they search high and low for Circle Potions, but… besides the cost, it's not a treasure you can simply buy with money…”
“Hmm, what if you were to gift them Circle Potions? Would they not follow you out of gratitude for such a favor?”
Finally grasping the Butler's point, a thrilling shiver ran down Isabelle's spine.
Just as the Butler said, if she gave Circle Potions to the mid-level mages, they would undoubtedly become her loyal allies.
And that wasn't all. Songs of praise for her would echo throughout the entire Tower.
Then even those who looked down on her would have no choice but to see her in a new light.
However, it wasn't that the Lady hadn't thought of this simple plan before.
The problem was that realizing this plan would require more than just one or two Circle Potions.
‘Is there any item more sensitive to market prices than a Circle Potion? The price would skyrocket if even one or two became available. And to effectively win over the mid-level mages, I'd need at least five... Hah, this is a completely absurd fantasy.’
As wealthy as she was, the foundation of her fortune was her father.
Therefore, there was a limit to the assets she could use.
And in such a situation, Circle Potions?
One or two might be manageable, but five or more was a quantity that even her father would find burdensome.
However, the class of these beings was far beyond her imagination.
“How about ten Circle Potions? That should be more than enough for you to secure a faction of supporters.”
*Thud.*
Isabelle was so shocked she didn't even realize she had spilled her coffee.
Such an absurd number had come from the Butler's mouth.
But the Butler wasn't finished.
“However, there is no such thing as a favor without a price in this world. I say this to avoid any misunderstanding… should you accept this favor, you will be expected to repay our Lord's goodwill.”
Her eyes already slightly crazed at the number of ten Circle Potions, Isabelle spoke with an impatient tone.
“What must I do to repay the Lord's goodwill?”
“It is not particularly difficult. You simply need to prove that you are worthy of being my Lord's amusement.”
Isabelle bit her lower lip.
‘Amusement… a plaything? What, are these people… treating me like a toy right now?’
Her pride was wounded, but in a way, that made it more believable.
Then again, if the man on the jade throne was a god, what could he possibly want or demand from her?
It was more plausible that he had summoned her for his own entertainment.
In that moment, the contemptuous gazes of those who looked down on her and Allen's confident smile flashed through her mind.
As if her mind was made up, Isabelle spoke in a resolute voice.
“Tell me. How can I provide this proof?”