The City of Mages, Barakan
Barakan, the city of mages. Protected by massive walls and powerful magic, it was renowned across the continent as the safest city around. Every year, countless people flocked here dreaming of becoming mages, but only a tiny fraction ever succeeded. That was because the exam to enter the mage tower was brutally difficult. Simply sensing mana and casting spells wasn't enough. You had to wield mana as freely as your own limbs and possess flashes of inspiration for new magic. After all, the tower sought not mere spell-slingers, but fellow travelers in the pursuit of truth.
"Halt. Present your identification."
At Barakan's gates, the guards weren't mages themselves, but picking a fight with them would trigger the magic embedded in the gate. A forced exile spell. He had no idea how it worked, but once banished, you couldn't re-enter without the tower's permission. So avoiding trouble with the guards was key.
"One moment."
The man with ash-gray hair, fierce eyes, and a thick layer of road dust rummaged in his pocket and pulled out an ID badge dangling from a cord. The guard took it, checked it over, and nodded.
"Yoahim, Bronze-rank mercenary. Purpose of visit?"
Mercenary ranks went from Black Iron, Bronze, Steel, Silver, Gold, Platinum, to Diamond. Yoahim's was Bronze, second from the bottom.
"Delivery. Got a package for the tower."
"May I see the item?"
Yoahim nodded and showed the sealed letter. The wax seal prevented reading the contents, but the emblem was unmistakably from the mercenary guild, so the guard stepped aside with a nod.
"Welcome to Barakan. A few words of advice: don't mess with mages, don't touch mages, be careful around mages."
"Personal tip or city rule?"
The guard grinned. "Both."
Yoahim grinned back. The guard's smile vanished as he bellowed, "Cleared! Next!"
Yoahim quickly made way for the person behind him.
Passing through the gates into Barakan, he took in the massive city... without batting an eye.
'Seen it a million times in the game. What's the big deal?'
Barakan was the mages' city. Anyone raising a mage character naturally used it as a hub. Yoahim had wandered here plenty while leveling Lilith. Sure, seeing the towering buildings in real life was kinda novel compared to pixels, but nothing mind-blowing.
He wasn't the type to get excited over sights anyway.
'Tower first, I guess.'
Having killed the black mage Veros and trekked to Barakan alone, Yoahim was beat. Even with his level-ups, constant vigilance was a must—especially solo. He'd slept short hours at night, risen at dawn, and marched till dusk in a brutal push to arrive fast. Now he was exhausted.
'Tower's this way.'
The in-game map was gone, but the memory lingered. Yoahim navigated Barakan's winding streets without a hitch.
Snippets of conversation stabbed at his ears as he walked. Barakan buzzed with life. Despite the "mages' city" moniker, most residents weren't mages—just farmers, water-haulers, woodcutters, like anywhere else. Mages were a rare handful. Plus, sitting on open plains made it easy to reach from all directions. Aspiring mages, buyers of rare magic tools, merchants delivering to the tower—crowds poured in constantly, keeping the place packed.
Yoahim half-listened, half-ignored as he bee-lined for the tower.
Finding it wasn't hard. He knew the layout cold, but even a first-timer would've spotted it quick after minimal wandering. The tower dominated every skyline in Barakan. It was the city's symbol, its very essence.
Barakan was ruled by the Kalsara Council—eighteen mages and one master. They'd built the tower first, then the city around it so it was visible from everywhere. Every road led to the tower eventually. Even lost, you'd end up there.
"Fuckin' huge up close..."
He'd grown numb to Barakan's look from endless game time, but the tower? Different story. Its overwhelming presence made him question if humans had really built it. Yoahim gawked like a country bumpkin, head craned back.
He got why people traveled for cultural sites now.
He swallowed, snapping his mouth shut. Enough gawking—time to approach the firmly shut doors. Then someone shoulder-checked him from behind.
What the hell?
Yoahim whipped around irritably. A young guy stood there. Instead of apologizing, the jerk got pissy.
"Move it, hick. Don't block the road. I'm busy, fuckin' annoying. Tsk."
The guy tsked, then bumped Yoahim's shoulder again as he passed.
You bumped me, asshole.
Yoahim opened his mouth for a retort, but the guy beat him to it.
"What? Trying to get in the tower? Forget it, trash like you never will. Not even a mage, no talent either. Don't waste your time—go home. Friendly advice."
"..."
"Oh? Glaring? What're you gonna do? Think that'll magic up some talent? Idiot, talent's born, not made. Like me. Now keep sightseeing and fuck off home. I'm busy."
Sneering, the guy strode toward the tower and greeted the entrance guards with a smile.
"Hey, everyone, good work. Grabbed some books. Let me in?"
Well, shit. A mage? Tower pricks got attitudes.
Yoahim tsked, watching. Even mages couldn't just waltz in; the guy asked the guards to open up.
The guard stared him down. "Genie, apprentice mage or not, quit picking fights. Even studying under Councilor Lawrence doesn't give you the right to hassle folks. Talent ain't a license to bully."
"Aww, nagging. Fine, open the door. Gotta make class."
The guard shook his head. "Entry pass."
"You know me. What's with the pass?"
"Genie, you're an apprentice. Not officially tower staff yet. My job's to stop unauthorized entry. Hand it over."
"Ugh, guard's being a pain..."
He muttered the last bit, but the guard had to have heard. Still, the man's face stayed stone-cold, waiting.
Damn, professional.
"Uh, my pass... Huh? Wait, where's my pass?"
Genie patted his pockets frantically. No luck—lost, maybe. Yoahim smirked.
Striding up confidently, he caught the guard's eye. The man, who'd been watching Genie, turned.
"What business brings you to the tower?"
"Delivering a letter. Urgent—let me in."
Genie looked up at Yoahim's voice, glaring. Who the fuck's this?
Yoahim ignored him. "What's the letter about?"
"Can't say here. Highly confidential. Not for apprentice ears."
Yoahim flicked his eyes at Genie, whose face flushed red. He started to yell but clamped shut when the guard slammed his spear butt on the ground with a bam.
Yoahim chuckled softly, pulling the letter from his bag. "But claiming total secrecy won't prove I'm legit. This is the tower's report on the Serina Village guild dungeon request. Something dangerous happened—I'm here to deliver it personally."
"One moment."
The guard sent his silent partner inside to verify. Minutes later, the second guard returned, demanding the seal. Confirming Serina Village guild's mark, he nodded.
The first guard spoke. "You've had a hard journey. You're cleared."
"Thanks."
As the heavy tower doors creaked open, Genie gaped, eyes darting between Yoahim and the guards.
Yoahim grinned at the dumbfounded prick. "Hey, your pass dropped near the fountain intersection. Hurry—might still find it."
"Wh-what?"
Genie blinked stupidly. The guard roared.
"Genie! You really lose it? You idiot! Do you know what that is? Go find it now! I'll report this to Councilor Lawrence!"
"N-no, wait. Did I... really lose it? I'm not sure..."
"Find it, you stu-pid fuck!"
"Y-yes, sir!"
Genie bolted toward the fountain. Yoahim stifled a kekeke inside.
Never saw a pass. Just payback for the attitude.
"Sorry for the spectacle. Go on in."
"No problem. Thanks for your work."
Yoahim gave a casual nod and stepped inside.
First, a vast hall. Then scents hit: wood, books, something weird and acrid.
And then.
"Welcome to the heart of Barakan, the grand hall of magic! The Kalsara Tower of Mystic Studies bids you welcome!"
The piercing high-pitched voice made Yoahim's head ring.