Chapter 80
Chapter 80
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 80
Chapter Title: Tower of the Eccentrics (1)
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In a brunch cafe in the capital.
Rosel stared out the window with a face that looked a decade older. He was tired. Lately, life just felt exhausting. His hair was starting to fall out bit by bit.
...I get how Aaron feels now.
He even felt like his hair was thinning out.
Rosel suppressed the sigh threatening to escape and looked straight ahead. The source of his exhaustion, his disciple, sat right in front of him.
Watching Raniel spread cheese on her bread, Rosel opened his mouth.
"...Is it tasty?"
"Yes? Oh, yes. It’s delicious."
Good thing it’s tasty.
Thanks to you, I can’t even get a sip of coffee down properly.
Rosel swallowed the words rising in his throat. Oblivious to Rosel’s inner turmoil, Raniel savored her lukewarm milk tea.
"...Hoo."
In the end, Rosel let out a sigh.
Lately, a rumor had been making the rounds at Aphria Academy. About a mad mage who’d torn the Saintess’s clothes and dumped coffee on her.
—The Saintess’s clothes were ripped.
—They say coffee was poured all over her, and she was furious—such a rare sight for our benevolent Saintess...
The Saintess Sara, symbol of benevolence.
She had flown into a rage. The cafe owner had broken out in cold sweat, swearing he’d seen nothing, and even the Saintess herself had stayed silent.
No one knew who the mad mage was.
Just baseless rumors floating around.
No matter how I think about it...
Yet Rosel was certain.
It’s Raniel’s handiwork.
Rosel mouthed the word “Saintess.” Raniel looked up at him. She grimaced at first. But soon her expression softened, and she asked why he’d brought up the Saintess.
She didn’t look upset at all.
If anything, she seemed refreshed, her conscience clear.
"...It’s nothing."
Yeah, as long as she hasn’t been found out.
Rosel decided to think on the bright side and changed the subject.
"I heard that ancient lich infiltrated Aphria."
"It did."
"No injuries?"
It was a loaded question.
Raniel nodded as she chewed her bread.
"It’s not like it’s the first or second time I’ve taken it down... I’m fine. The only time I got hurt fighting that bag of bones was our very first encounter."
Her voice didn’t leak outside. Within the temporary barrier he’d set up, Raniel continued.
"Ever since I developed the magic system to smash that thing, I haven’t gotten hurt..."
Mid-sentence, Raniel clamped her mouth shut.
She set down her bread, glanced away shyly, and spoke up.
"...After developing the Battle Mage class, I hardly get hurt at all anymore."
Battle Mage.
At the word, the corner of Rosel’s mouth twitched.
So she’s finally realized.
Rosel tilted his coffee cup and let out a chuckle.
"How does it feel to be the creator of a rootless class, Raniel?"
"W-Well, creating a class is something to be proud of, sure..."
"It is something to be proud of."
"No, Master. Why didn’t you tell me?"
What a belated question.
"Wouldn’t it be weirder if you didn’t know?"
"Huh?"
"Grab anyone and ask—they’ll tell you the Battle Mage class was created by the great Ashen Mage..."
"Uwaaak!"
Raniel let out a scream and ducked her head. Rosel eyed her with a look that said what took you so long?
Her face was beet red.
She was probably recalling the things she’d said herself. With a smirk, Rosel spoke up.
"Rootless class."
Tok.
"A mage should be chanting spells, not wasting time on pointless martial arts. Talk about no roots."
Tok.
"No idea who created it, but they must be one crazy mage."
All direct quotes from Raniel.
He stopped tapping the table with his finger and looked down at her. Head bowed, she mumbled in a tiny voice.
"Stop, Master, please stop..."
"So you do know it’s embarrassing."
Rosel savored his coffee.
Unlike before, it went down smooth.
"When did you find out?"
"...While grading the midterms. I was looking over the other professors’ exams, and there I was in the reading passages."
"It shows up pretty often."
Ashen Mage Raniel.
Questions about his disciple—who’d become a pillar of history—were exam staples.
Probably spotted it there.
Rosel stroked his chin and continued.
"Took you long enough. I figured you’d catch on right away when you saw students applying for Battle Mage."
"...There wasn’t even a decisive hint to begin with. I never imagined it was the class I made..."
Raniel grumbled her explanation. It was about the core of Battle Mage: body reinforcement.
"...Substituting the physical strain of reinforcement spells with mana expenditure?"
"Exactly. That’s the only way to keep up with Kyle’s speed. Close-quarters combat without something like that? It’s just weird."
Hard to believe no one had spotted the flaw. Rosel gave a wry smile at Raniel’s muttering.
"You’re right—it is a flaw. But listen, Raniel."
"Yes?"
"Even factoring that in, Battle Mage is a class with top-tier combat prowess. Its battlefield utility has been proven."
That was simple fact.
A combat system leveraging the spell Stock concept.
Rapid-fire spells with no delay.
Melee capabilities that hold their own.
Unless you were up on the front lines dueling heavyweights like Raniel... the class’s flaws weren’t that glaring.
The advantages far outweigh them.
It had upended the entire mage paradigm.
Battle Mage was nothing short of revolutionary.
"Might lack roots a little, like you said, but Battle Mage has proven its worth in combat. It’s no defective class."
"Well, if you say so, that’s a relief..."
Rosel shrugged at his still-unsatisfied disciple.
"If it bothers you that much, why not teach it yourself?"
"Me?"
"You’re already teaching the related course."
Body reinforcement spells that pushed past limits.
The core lay in Mana Trading Studies—the very subject Raniel handled now.
Substituting the price.
Trading with the stars via Balance.
Not mere spell manifestation, but offering something as payment to warp reality.
The ultimate aim of Mana Trading Studies.
And this class treated it as a prerequisite.
Rosel let out a hollow laugh.
Too many prerequisites.
You had to master spell Stock. Know body reinforcement spells. Be skilled in martial arts.
And wield Balance on top of that.
Were there any classes this convoluted?
"Well, it’s not something you can fix overnight. Take it slow."
"Yeah... I learned it by watching Kyle sprint, so students will probably need live examples."
Wonder if she should go pick up a hero somewhere.
As Rosel eyed the muttering Raniel, he pulled a single sheet of paper from his pocket.
"Anyway, Raniel."
"Yes?"
"An invitation arrived."
The invitation that had flown to the mansion recently.
Rosel set the letter—stamped with the society’s emblem—down in front of Raniel.
"Where’s it from?"
"The Mage Studies Society."
"...Pardon?"
Rosel pointed at the letter.
"The Mage Studies Society sent an invitation to the Ivory Tower."
2.
There’s a tower called the Ivory Tower.
It’s nothing like the Ashen Mage Tower I used to belong to, or the other mage towers with their signature colors.
The Ivory Tower is where the Mage Studies Society’s scholars reside.
They don’t stick to fixed research topics. They decipher circuits that won’t unravel easily—like ones unearthed from ancient ruins—that demand ages of effort.
And base problems off them.
A place to solve conundrums and craft new ones.
That’s the Ivory Tower of the Mage Studies Society.
...The Ivory Tower on the surface.
The public sees it as a lofty bastion where scholars unravel circuits. But having sparred verbally with these lunatics firsthand, my take is a bit different.
A tower packed with gloomy, nitpicky pricks.
That’s the Ivory Tower I know.
These guys, obsessing over circuit deciphering day in, day out, have warped ways of thinking.
The kids pursue art in circuits.
—That curve’s a bit off.
—Isn’t there a more artistic way to draw it? This mess! Circuits can’t be this sloppy...!
—Creating a new circuit means challenging the 300-plus circuits crafted by ancient mages...!
Every time I tried registering my signature spell’s circuit, they’d trot out that routine.
Fuck, as long as the damn circuit works.
I just can’t wrap my head around their mindset.
Anyway, the Ivory Tower isn’t like mage towers full of efficiency nuts. It’s a tower of freaks who turn spell circuits into art.
So I really didn’t want to come...
I sighed as I gazed up at the Ivory Tower.
Under normal circumstances, I’d never set foot here.
If Master hadn’t asked me to.
I recalled Master’s words as he handed me the letter.
—You made that final exam problem, right?
—Dean Aaron recommended it to the Ivory Tower. They’ve had their eye on it from the start.
I’d planned to refuse at first.
No interest in rubbing elbows with those eccentrics. Sure, getting a problem featured in the Ivory Tower was a massive career boost for any professor... but I couldn’t care less.
So I tried to turn it down...
But Master had said to me:
—Do you know this, Raniel?
—Most of Aphria’s textbooks and manuals come straight from the Ivory Tower.
Listening, I realized it was different from mage tower days.
The towers saw the Ivory Tower as a roadblock, but not Aphria.
Some kind of symbiotic setup?
Aphria gets academic journals and textbooks for free. In exchange, they recommend promising graduates to the Ivory Tower.
Win-win: Aphria scores free materials, Ivory Tower skips the talent hunt.
—We need to keep good relations.
Pushed by Master’s blunt words, here I was, standing before the Ivory Tower.
"Hmm."
No changes from what I remembered.
When was the last time I came here?
About six or seven years ago, give or take.
Last visit was when I’d chucked a problem at those rejects as a big “fuck you” for shooting down my circuits every time.
Chin.
Lost in those thoughts, I passed the entrance when someone approached me.
"Ah, Professor Lania?"
I nodded, and the scholar beamed.
He bowed, robes fluttering.
"I’m Brick, your guide. Pleasure to meet you, Professor Lania."
"Likewise."
"The Ivory Tower’s five pillars are waiting upstairs. You’ll just need to explain the problem’s simple solution and your intent behind it."
The five pillars of the Ivory Tower.
About the same as mage tower elders, as I recalled.
"Sure, okay."
I nodded and followed Brick.
As he led me down the passage, framed pictures lining the corridor caught my eye.
Ivory Tower’s Selected 44 Greatest Conundrums.
Plaques labeled frames containing hand-drawn circuits.
Displayed like fine art, I couldn’t help but chuckle.
These guys haven’t changed a bit.
Glancing at the circuits as we walked, one in a particularly ornate frame jumped out.
"...Huh?"
I stopped in front of it.
The circuit looked familiar. Like I’d seen it before. Tilting my head, Brick came over.
"Oh, interested in that one?"
"Uh? No, it just looks familiar..."
"That’s a circuit donated to our Ivory Tower by the Ashen Mage, Raniel."
Ah, figures.
Of course it’s this one.
The problem I’d lobbed at the Mage Studies Society pricks who nitpicked everything—to give them a real taste of shit.
All circuits mashed together.
Made it blatantly unsolvable, packed to bursting with malice.
A problem screaming “don’t solve me.”
It got rated a conundrum, but I never expected them to display it.
Strange feeling.
I turned to Brick and started to ask.
"This total piece of..."
"Such a beautiful problem, isn’t it?"
"Pardon?"
"Huh?"
Why the hell would you display this garbage problem?
I almost blurted it out but caught myself.
Beautiful? This?
As I blinked, Brick spoke up.
"Behold the curve gradients, forming perfect geometric patterns. Dozens of circuits intertwining, weaving... a beautiful tapestry."
Brick’s face lit up in rapture.
"Among conundrums, this reaches the realm of art. No wonder the Ashen Mage is hailed as a sage."
Hm, Brick nodded to himself and turned to me.
"Isn’t it just breathtaking?"
"......"
Brick’s eyes were sparkling intensely.
Staring into them, I couldn’t bring myself to say, I made this just to fuck with you guys.
"Yeah, well..."
I muttered, giving Brick a pitiful look.
"Beautiful... problem."
If the ones solving it saw it that way... then whatever.