Magic Tower of the Frozen Wastes
The Magic Tower, the Severely Cold Land, the Land of Death, the Land of Cold—these three cursed domains represent the North. They're uninhabitable environments from the start, and the biting cold surging in from the edges lives up to its name: severe winter. Humans, excluding the barbarians, manage to live in the relatively warmer lowlands. Follow the long icy river stretching from the territory of Snowfall, and you'll reach the port city of Hingu, which leads to the sea.
To go from the Land of Death to the Severely Cold Land, you must cross the Stormy Sea. But the port city doesn't require that—it's meant for crossing to other continents in the first place. These days, heading to another continent requires permission from Arkanthia. Well, Butler Biden is skilled at such matters, so he's probably already slipped out of Winterer via smugglers. Lucius too. Miyabi is sensitive to mana flows. With his speed and her magic, they can easily evade Arkanthia's eyes.
Rowen no longer worried about them. Of course, he did worry, but something far more important demanded his attention. That was the Magic Tower. A gathering place for the pinnacle scholars of the magical academy. For the current Rowen, the tower—home to those who lived and died by magic—was an incredibly intriguing destination.
"...That's it, huh."
"Yes, the Magic Tower built by the disciples of the great mage."
"Think we can find traces of Mio there?"
"Not certain, but I hear the tower master is the great mage's first disciple. She might know something."
"Then we have no choice but to go."
Unlike the Land of Cold, the Land of Death, or the Severely Cold Land, if you pass through Albrin Forest from Snowfall, board a ship at the port city, and sail out, you'll see a land of ice. Ice that never melts, formed by immense magic—a place of pure fantasy. Rowen and Arahan had already secured a ship through smugglers. Now, the Magic Tower was close enough to see.
They still had a ways to go. After all, the Magic Tower now belonged to Arkanthia. Saying it would be safe had been naive. In the end, they craved power too. They couldn't resist the allure of magitech, which modifies magic itself. In other words, Rowen and Arahan were heading straight into enemy territory. Utter madness, surely. Others might think so. But what could be done? Hiring smugglers to another continent was exorbitantly expensive. To save money and gather maximum intel, the Magic Tower was their only option—especially since it held traces of the great mage, Mio Lizfeldt.
"If I show the tower master traces of the hero, it'll work out somehow."
"Pardon?"
Whoops.
"...Nothing."
"Are you hiding something?"
"Just talking to myself."
"Hmm...?"
Arahan stared piercingly at him, suspicion in her eyes. It felt... no, very burdensome. As mentioned before, Arahan's gaze was always unsettling. Heavy, perhaps? Hard to endure. Rowen turned his head away. He sorted through the thoughts flashing in his mind.
First, meet the tower master.
Rowen had no intention of revealing his past life. But right now, he had no choice. If she was Mio's disciple, she'd recognize him.
Flutter—!
The ship's sails billowed in the gale. The vessel picked up speed. Chunks of ice bobbed past. Even in the fierce cold, birds soared high, wings spread wide in freedom across the lofty sky. A twinge of envy stirred in him.
*
A massive black pillar. The somewhat shadowy tower cast a shadow as long as its immense size. Stepping onto the Magic Tower's grounds, the two couldn't hide their surprise at the enveloping shadow.
"Mio's disciple built that?"
"First time seeing it in person, but it's as rumored—impressive."
Above all.
Humm—!
The massive flying ships circling the tower exuded a powerful presence. Rowen frowned. The viscous mana, palpable even from afar, felt repulsive. Magitech wasn't inherently bad. But to Rowen, who had lived in the era a thousand years ago, that power felt like a curse driving people mad with might.
"Expected it to some degree, but flying ships too?"
"You call those ships flying ships?"
"Yeah. Ships that fly, blending flight magic and technology."
"...They feel a bit unpleasant."
"Right? Same here."
Mana must flow naturally. That's the law and order of the gods, the flow of the world. But they suppressed it. Thus, those with high mana couldn't help but feel discomfort—like air twisting around them. Rowen ground his teeth. Anxiety gnawed at him. He'd come to investigate traces of the holy sword and Mio's whereabouts, but seeing Arkanthia's mark firsthand made his blood boil.
Still haven't learned? In your past life, you rushed in first and got a sword through your skull.
Rowen barely reined himself in. He drew a deep breath, exhaled. Regulated his emotions with steady breaths.
"Let's go."
"Yes, Young Master."
Rowen shed his concealment robe. No need for it now. He'd come here planning to make a scene anyway. He expanded his mana zone. Traces of mana flickered in his red eyes. All mana info entered his vision. Dizzying, but bearable. He couldn't scan to the tower's peak—his limit. But he peered inside the flying ships. No golems. But rune fragments and magitech devices meant soldiers with fully magitech-augmented bodies. No matter. Rowen wasn't afraid. With Arahan at his side, victory was certain.
Rowen and Arahan moved. They climbed the somewhat steep uphill path. Plowed through piled snow. Drew nearer to the tower, its size not just massive but monstrous.
"Outsider?"
"...Who goes there!"
Guards? Two mages on watch came into view. Not Arkanthian imperial troops. Apprentices, perhaps? Their mana flows were tidy but messy.
Rowen answered their question.
"Where's the tower master?"
"...What?"
"Don't make me repeat. Where's the tower master?"
They exchanged glances. Flustered by Rowen's bold tone. His brazenness made them mistake him for someone high-ranking. Understandable—they were mere apprentices facing someone demanding their leader outright.
"...May we ask who you are?"
"The Grand Master has no friends. No one's ever visited her in her life... Mmph!"
"Hey, you idiot? What if the Grand Master hears?!"
"It's true!"
Grand Master? Rowen belatedly realized that was the tower master's title. He chuckled at their bumbling antics.
"Just tell me where the tower master is. I'll go myself."
"The Grand Master is naturally at the highest point..."
"Yeah?"
"Yes, but who are you?"
As expected. In this remote place far from Snowfall, no one knew his face. Even if they did, they wouldn't recognize him easily. Amid the misfortune, a silver lining. Rowen moved.
"Let's go, Arahan."
"Yes, Young Master."
The two apprentices blocked him.
"We don't know who you are, but unverified individuals can't enter the Magic Tower."
"Why?"
"Imperial army orders. So for identity verification, your name—"
"What're you gonna do with it?"
"Pardon?"
Rowen flicked his fingers lightly.
Snap—!
Just once. No incantation needed. This magic didn't demand advanced linguistics or spells. Of course, with his library-level magic knowledge, Rowen could compute spells silently. The two apprentices froze instantly. Like frostbite victims. Arms outstretched, blocking Rowen.
"The North isn't so weak as to bow to Arkanthia."
In the old days, he might've felt pity. Or even guilt. But not now. No room for mercy. No emotions stirred. He had to move fast, even a second quicker. Above all, the only one here he'd opened his heart to was Arahan. With a short sigh, Rowen opened the Magic Tower's door. The grating, ominous screech furrowed his brow. At the same time, he drew his Ice Blade. The tower would be full of mages. They'd likely seen the outside commotion. Prepare for attack. They'd probably anticipated it all.
"Let's go. Time to find the holy sword."
"Yes."
*
The tower master. Grand Master Yuria Scarlet felt it. A thrilling, exhilarating sensation. Like the first time she'd met Mio Lizfeldt a thousand years ago. Fierce fighting spirit. Fierce mana. Fierce vitality! Such a being had forced open the Magic Tower's door and entered.
"Hmm... I wonder who it could be?"
With childlike innocence, she spread her arms wide and smiled. She twirled to the lively music playing. Her elegant dress traced a perfect circle. The black gown, exposing her cleavage brazenly, was perfectly seductive. Of course, this was just Yuria's preferred style. She was a virgin, after all! A thousand years without romance or even fate. Had she ever flirted? Everyone shunned her for her origins. No friends. So she immersed herself in magic. Pursued strength. Diverted her gaze from lust and desire to other things. In the end, she became Mio's strongest disciple.
But...
"Hehe~ What's this?"
Her heart raced. Yuria shifted her gaze. Pink hair cascaded over her ample bosom in gentle waves. The bewitching beauty grew curious about the sensation. She decided to check it herself. She feared them all. Everyone working under her in the tower. Their burdensome expectations crushed her more. She didn't know what was happening outside. Yuria had simply fled to the tower's edge to escape their stares. Outwardly imposing and refined, inwardly she was still a little girl.
"Who could possess such seductive mana?"
Curiosity burned. She had to see for herself. Time to end this suffocating life. Thirty years holed up. A little movement couldn't hurt. Yuria donned her cleanest, most beautiful dress. Still black—it accentuated her figure and highlighted her hair. A powerful being. Perhaps like her master. Their stares terrified her a bit, but she couldn't stay put. Yuria eyed the portal before her. She might collapse under more gazes. ...But. To sate this curiosity? A trifle. When her master had been by her side, even five hundred years ago, she'd endured stares. Now, it was just hard.
"Hehe, just wait a moment."
Yuria didn't suppress her trembling excitement. A touch of thrill amplified anticipation. It had been so long. In an instant, Yuria vanished from sight.
The next moment, she appeared before the two.
"F-For the first... time. Nice to meet you?"