Chapter 50
Chapter 50
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 50
Chapter Title: Resti Elenoa (1)
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Resti Elenoa, the next Ashen Mage Tower Lord.
Needless to say, Resti is a talented mage. Her talents have been acknowledged by the Ashen Elder.
She learns quickly.
At her young age, she can already draw top-grade circuits.
She was born with the gift of a Summoner.
It was the recommendation of the Elder who spotted the Ashen Mage Raniel's talents at a glance. There is no room to doubt the abilities she possesses.
This isn't limited to absolute standards.
Even by relative standards, Resti is undoubtedly a mage of the highest caliber.
Currently, two individuals are mentioned as candidates for the next Ashen and White Mage Tower Lords: the shaman Belnoa and the Battle Mage Rak.
-They are once-in-a-generation geniuses.
-They are the ones who will shape the future.
Many marvel at their level.
However, when those two and Resti are mentioned in the same breath, Resti is always the first name called.
-Their levels are different.
-At that age, commanding both familiars and spirits simultaneously... only the heretic Gletus could do that.
That's the extent of her talent. Even judged relatively, her abilities don't fall short in the slightest.
However.
As is often the case with relative measures, evaluations ultimately diverge based on the standard used.
"What a disappointment."
"......"
A single curt remark tightens around Resti's throat.
"You had a month to prepare. Precisely a month and a half, but considering your academy schedule, let's call it a month."
The top floor of the Mage Tower, the elders' domain.
Six seats arranged along a semicircular dais.
Four of the six seats are occupied.
Two seats are empty.
Those belonging to Elder Rosel, who raised the previous next Lord candidate, and the longest-serving elder, Gilleon.
"Is this the entirety of your research results from the past month?"
A chilling voice echoes in her ears.
A voice devoid of any emotion. Resti slowly raises her head.
"......"
Silent gazes look down upon her.
The four elders are watching her. There is no expectation in their eyes.
Her research results from the past month.
It was research she completed sacrificing sleep, yet the elders' gazes remain cold.
Thud.
One elder taps the table with a finger as if bored. Another props their chin indifferently. Yet another even yawns.
"Your research over the month amounts to just one project. And even its completion leaves much to be desired."
Resti lowers her head.
"They say you're still holding the top spot at Aphria? Well, you have to cling to something. With such shoddy research results, what else can you do?"
"Sitting as the next Mage Tower Lord while enrolling at the academy is laughable enough..."
Sneering laughter rings out.
"Now that I see it, that level suits you perfectly."
Resti bows her head a little lower.
Amid the elders' mockery, a bundle of papers drops with a thud before her eyes.
There are no signs they were even properly read.
A crumpled pile of papers rolls at her feet, as if unworthy of the effort.
"......"
Resti bends down to pick up the papers.
She kneels, gathering them one sheet at a time.
"I miss five years ago."
"That child... no, that person turned the world of magic upside down every ten days, let alone a month..."
"Isn't it our fault for failing to hold onto them back then? More precisely..."
"It's also because of the owner of that empty seat."
The elders murmur among themselves.
Resti is already out of their sight. She gathers all the papers and bows her head briefly.
No elder acknowledges her courtesy.
It was then, as Resti turned to leave.
"The Elder has grown old too. Leaving a half-baked kid in the next Lord's seat."
The remark catches Resti's steps. Her fingers clutching the papers tremble.
"Raniel van Trias."
Someone utters that name.
That name again. Sick of hearing it endlessly, a name she now doesn't even want to hear echoes in her ears.
Raniel.
If it had been Lord Raniel.
Lord Raniel at your age.
Raniel, Raniel, Raniel...
"......"
Resti bites her lip hard.
Her footsteps grow heavy amid the elders' derision. Her deeply bowed head refuses to lift.
It's always been like this.
No one looks at her. They seek someone no longer in this position from her.
How many years has it been like this?
To Resti, the Mage Tower is no longer a place of dreams. It has become a suffocating place she never wants to return to.
'I really hate this.'
Blood trickles from her bitten lip.
Resti exits the Mage Tower with her head down.
2.
"Allen."
"Yes? Professor Lania."
Allen pokes her head out from roasting coffee beans at my call.
Allen was a barista from an alchemy workshop craftsman background. In other words, the owner of this cafe inside the Aphria dorms where I've become a regular.
I asked her.
"Don't you ever rest, Allen? Isn't today a holiday?"
Aphria had just entered a short break recently. So I naturally assumed the cafe would be closed.
But lo and behold.
I came to check just in case, and the door was open. I'd rushed over, ordered coffee, and was now sitting by the window... but still.
'Come to think of it, does this person even have days off?'
The thought suddenly crosses my mind.
The closing time is a bit early, but I'd never seen a day when she fully rested.
As I tossed out the question and waited for a response, Allen stopped roasting the beans.
"...You're right?"
"Pardon?"
She answered my question with another question.
Her voice sounds strangely subdued.
"Why do you think I can't rest, Professor Lania?"
Allen's smiling eyes look hollow. It seemed like she had some unavoidable circumstances.
'Is someone bullying her or something?'
It was beyond my understanding.
I tilted my head and replied.
"Uh... no idea?"
"...Then it's fine if you don't know."
Allen grumbled and resumed roasting the coffee. I glanced at her briefly before turning my gaze back to the window.
The window gleams spotlessly.
Beyond it, Aphria looks peaceful.
'It's a holiday, after all.'
With no students milling about the academy, it feels strangely empty. Only a few assistant professors creep along the grounds now and then.
In the old days, I'd have freaked out... but now, whatever.
'Assistant professors always move like that anyway.'
Having seen it often over the past month, I'm used to it now. Nothing unusual.
I rest my chin on my hand and sip coffee through the straw.
Aphria basking in warm sunlight looks much the same as a month ago, when I first visited this cafe.
This unchanging scenery oddly brings a sense of stability.
'After seeing battlefields where the terrain changes daily, even this feels unfamiliar.'
Gazing at the unchanging view, it reminds me this was everyday life. Memories of the past five years well up fresh.
It was amid such idle thoughts.
A figure caught the corner of my eye.
Not a professor. Not academy staff. An elderly man in a suit, exuding refinement from his attire and gait.
Of course, the outfit itself isn't rare. It's common enough. What drew my eye was something else.
The staff he holds.
That staff is granted to only six people. And I possess one of them.
'My master gave it to me.'
Originally held by just six, including my master. The fact that this elder holds one indicates he is an elder of the Ashen Mage Tower.
The elder approaches me.
He stops before me, separated by the glass.
At that moment, I recall his name.
'Elder Gilleon.'
The longest-serving elder of the Ashen Mage Tower was gazing at me through the glass.
3.
Clack, clack.
The sound of the staff tapping the pavement blocks echoes. Once, this staff was used to wield magic. It burned beasts, pioneered untamed lands, and laid the foundation for the Ashen Mage Tower.
But that's all in the past. Now, the staff serves only to probe the ground. It's merely a tool to move his aged body.
'Time is merciless.'
Gilleon feels a twinge of bitterness at the fact.
He strives to stay youthful, but his body only ages. Elixirs can prolong life, but Gilleon desires no such undignified extension.
He lives according to his station.
Content with what he's given, honing it.
He doesn't covet what exceeds his place.
That was the conviction Gilleon had upheld his entire life.
Yet now, even that conviction wavers.
When a lifetime conviction shakes.
Finding the reason is not hard.
'Because what I've devoted my life to is shaking.'
Gilleon sighs in thought.
'Right now, the Ashen Mage Tower is precarious.'
The Ashen Mage Tower he devoted his life to. Gilleon feels its instability.
'All because of the next Lord candidate issue.'
Resti Elenoa.
Of course, Gilleon doesn't doubt Resti Elenoa's qualifications. After all, she was personally selected by the Ashen Elder.
'Moreover, she has talent as a Summoner.'
She may not match the previous candidate, but the girl has more than enough to lead a tower.
The problem isn't Resti herself.
It's the way others view her. Everyone doubts her qualifications.
At the center are the elders.
The old guard mages, led by the elders, constantly question her abilities. They drag in the Ashen Mage as an example and tear apart her achievements.
'Comparing her to the Ashen Mage from the start is the mistake.'
Before the accomplishments of the Ashen Mage, nothing stands firm. Even past Lords' feats would waver.
Gilleon knows this.
But the other mages don't. Or rather, they pretend not to. Thus, they chase only the shadow of one who already left the tower.
A mage must always look forward.
Burying the past, exploring the unknown.
But the current Ashen Mage Tower does not.
The present Ashen clings only to the glory of five years ago, groping backward.
'This cannot continue. Ideally, the next Lord should lead... but.'
With himself and Rosel aside, the excessive factional strife and pressure from the four elders have left the current next Lord's power feeble.
'That perception itself is poor.'
The next Lord has no authority.
The Elder cannot lead the tower.
Rosel grew disillusioned and half-abandoned his seat.
Only he remains.
How to resolve this situation.
Gilleon has known the answer for a long time.
'Resti, I'm sorry... but bringing in a new next Mage Tower Lord is the right path.'
He knows the answer but hasn't acted.
'We needed a new mage guaranteed to succeed the Ashen Mage Raniel.'
Until now, no such person had appeared.
'But not anymore.'
Clack.
Gilleon extends his staff one final time.
He stops before a certain cafe.
"......"
A young woman sits inside the cafe. Gilleon gazes at her through the glass. She gazes back at him.
Ashen hair and blue eyes.
A girl whose appearance evokes someone.
Gilleon recalls her name.
Lania van Trias.
Rosel's adopted daughter and second disciple.
Her connection to Raniel is perfect. No one else links to Raniel like her. Now, the next question.
'Does she have the qualifications?'
Gilleon recalls the achievements she piled up in a short time.
Those accomplishments more than prove her worth.
The Ashen Mage, Raniel van Trias.
She has what it takes to succeed her.
'Only this child.'
Gilleon steels his resolve.
For the first time, he reaches beyond his station.
For the Ashen Mage Tower he devoted his life to.
Author's Note 5 days a week serialization... I kept it...! Amidst countless assignments. Even amidst insane final reports, I did it...! Hehe :D