The Chairman's Chilling Question
"Welcome, traveler. What brings you to the mage tower today?"
The clear, ringing voice carried straight to his ears. Yoahim shook his head once to clear it, then strode toward the reception desk ahead. A woman with golden hair sat there, her face lit up with a radiant smile. He knew exactly who she was. Receptionist Merilda. The first NPC you encountered upon entering the tower.
If you started the game with a mage character, she gave a brief story rundown along with some quests. Plus, the rewards for her daily quests were so damn generous that you'd end up seeing her face every single day.
‘Wonder if she'll hand out dailies even if I'm not a mage?’
Yoahim shook off the stray thought as he recalled what those rewards had been, then got to the point.
"I'm here to report on a commission. It's about clearing the dungeon near Serina Village."
"The dungeon clear near Serina Village? One moment, let me check the records."
Merilda flipped through a few sheets of paper, then nodded vigorously.
"Got it. You have the report written up, right? Just hand it over to me."
Merilda extended her pale hand, wiggling her fingers expectantly. Instead of passing over the letter he held, Yoahim shook his head.
"I'd prefer to report directly to the tower master, if possible."
"The tower master? You mean Lilith? But as far as I know, the Serina Village dungeon is just a D-rank commission. There's no real need to bother her personally with..."
"It's an important matter."
Yoahim cut off Merilda mid-sentence, his voice firm and clipped.
"There was an incident inside the dungeon. A very serious one. I believe it's something the tower master needs to hear directly. The more ears listening, the more chances for leaks. Of course, I'm just the errand boy here—if you want the letter and I'll be on my way, that's fine. But whatever happens after that? That's on you."
"W-wait just a second!"
Merilda reached out urgently, as if to physically stop his words. She mulled over what he'd said, her eyes dropping anxiously. After a brief moment of thought, she let out a sigh.
"If it's really that important, I suppose we have no choice. But you can't meet the tower master. Lilith isn't in the tower right now—she's away on business. She'll be back soon, but since this is urgent, I'll arrange for you to see Chairman Gregorius instead."
"Chairman?"
"He's the chairman of the Kalsara Council, which governs Barakan. He was the previous tower master, too. While Lilith's away, he's acting as tower master. But just so we're clear—this is you being pushy. If it turns out not to be as serious as you claim, you'll answer for wasting the chairman's time."
She was throwing his own words right back at him—turns out she had more spine than he expected. Yoahim nodded readily.
‘I wanted to see Lilith. Where the hell did that woman run off to?’
It was disappointing, but if she was coming back soon, he might catch her after wrapping this up. Merilda pointed to the wall on the right.
"There's an inter-floor teleporter on that wall. The chairman's office is on the seventh floor. I'll contact him now, so head straight up. Oh, first time in the tower? It's a magic device that moves you between floors. The controls are..."
"I know."
He cut her off and marched toward the teleporter without waiting. He'd ridden these things to death in the game, so he knew the drill. Press the button on the wall-mounted panel to open the door, step inside, let it close automatically, then hit the floor you want. Anyone could figure it out after a quick explanation—it was basically just the game's version of an elevator.
Yoahim operated the inter-floor teleporter with practiced ease and shot up to the seventh floor. The main difference from a real elevator? It didn't actually move—the magic just teleported you between floors.
Ding!
The doors slid open on the seventh floor. Yoahim couldn't help gawking around like some country bumpkin. A lush carpet ran the length of the hall, flanked on both sides by rows of stern busts, each with a name plaque beneath. Probably past chairmen of the council, though he couldn't be sure. This was all new territory for him.
The mage tower was a ten-story building, but in the game, you could only access the first floor, second floor, and the top tenth. Floors three through nine? Never implemented. So the seventh was uncharted ground even for him.
He vaguely remembered the Kalsara Council chairman title now. Wasn't the top dog just called the chairman? Was that separate from the tower master?
"Fuck, why'd they line the hall with these creepy-ass busts?"
Walking the corridor felt like being watched by a crowd. And for some reason, it seemed like their eyes were following him...
"No way..."
Yoahim quickened his pace without realizing it and rapped briskly on the door at the hall's end.
"Come in."
A deep, resonant voice granted permission. Yoahim pushed open the door and stepped inside.
"Pleased to meet you. I'm Gregorius, chairman of the Kalsara Council."
Gregorius was a robust man, sturdy for his age. Tall with broad shoulders, a sharp jawline, and a solid build—he looked more like a seafarer than a mage. Mid-fifties, maybe. His eyes were dark, his hair stark white by contrast. Instead of the usual mage robes, he wore a crisp uniform adorned with gleaming golden buttons that caught the light. Any stranger might mistake him for the head of some prestigious noble house.
"Ah, likewise. Name's Yoahim. Just a wandering traveler."
"A traveler, eh? Quite the romantic soul. I used to roam the continent myself back in the day—seeing the world, learning all sorts, honing my magic. These days, I'm tethered to this tower. Sit, please. I'll brew some tea."
Gregorius handled his work solo, no secretary in sight. He even prepared the tea himself, without help. As he touched the teapot, the lid rattled faintly, steam curling from the spout. He'd clearly brewed it once already—tilting it filled the cups with pale brown liquid. He returned with two cups and offered one to Yoahim.
"Here."
"Thank you."
Yoahim took the hot cup carefully, blew on it, and took a sip. Delicious. Tasty tea was a rare treat in this world. He savored it gratefully.
"So, Merilda mentioned you insisted on seeing the master personally for your report."
Gregorius sipped his tea with refined poise. Yoahim set his cup down and nodded.
"It's important."
"You may or may not know this, but I'm a busy man. I hope your news proves worthwhile."
Yoahim handed over the letter. Gregorius didn't take it by hand—instead, magic lifted it into the air. Yoahim nearly jumped. The letter floated lightly toward Gregorius, and he couldn't help but admire the skill. Fitting for the Kalsara chairman.
"...Hmm."
Gregorius read slowly. At first, he sipped his tea between lines, but soon he barely touched it. The white steam faded, and the cup went cold.
"The contents of this letter."
He finally spoke, fixing Yoahim with a steady gaze.
"It's all true? You can swear to Laelro without a shred of falsehood?"
Yoahim nodded without hesitation. Everything in the letter was fact, and anyway, he was an apostle of Kakali, not Laelro—no qualms about swearing to another god.
"Of course. I faced Haellagos's clone myself in that dungeon. He called the kobolds inside his test subjects. I don't know the details, but he's definitely up to something."
Gregorius fell silent again. He took a sip of his cold tea, then spoke.
"One thing puzzles me, though."
"Yes?"
"Why didn't Haellagos kill you? If he was running a secret experiment, why leave a witness?"
"Pardon?"
Yoahim felt a cold sweat prickling. Gregorius's dark eyes pierced like they were rummaging through his skull. No way he sniffed out that I'm an apostle of an evil god, right? I got a power-up from Haellagos, sure, but... if he figures it out?
As wild thoughts spiraled, Yoahim realized Gregorius was still watching him. He forced a laugh and answered.
"Beats me. My guess? The clone wasn't strong enough to finish me off. What I saw was just a formless shadow, after all."
Gregorius nodded.
"Could be. Thanks for the report. I'll call a council meeting once the tower master returns. You've done well. Safe travels."
"Wait—one more thing I want to show you."
Yoahim pulled out the book he'd moved from his inventory to his bag earlier. The mysterious tome from Veros's workshop. Whatever it was, it was clearly stolen from the tower. Stolen goods belonged back home—and Yoahim, the delivery boy, deserved a little something for his trouble.
"Found this on the way here. Doesn't seem ordinary, so I brought it. Thought maybe it's a grimoire or something you lost from the tower."
"Well, this book..."
Gregorius took it carefully, letting out a sigh-like sound. He examined it with utmost caution—flipping it over, running fingers along the cover. The longer his silence stretched, the more Yoahim tensed.
What's with him? If it's from the tower, he'd recognize it instantly, right?
"Your name was Yoahim, yes."
His voice shattered the quiet. Yoahim nodded.
"Yes."
"Then, Yoahim—one question."
Gregorius shook the book lightly in his right hand, his gaze icy cold—chilling Yoahim to the bone.
"Where did you get this book? Speak only the truth. Hide nothing."