Eve of the Storm: The 290th Floor
As he arduously climbed to the 290th floor, Rowen learned a few things. More than half the Magic Tower's mages had turned their backs on the North and sided with Arkanthia. Every last one of them had rune fragments embedded in their bodies. They'd equipped magitech devices to amplify their mana, forcibly elevating themselves to the level of high-ranking mages.
Muron, Arkanthia's backer, was dead. But just because the bastard who called himself the demon cult's "prophet" was gone didn't mean the danger had vanished. There were likely several more like him. Of course, judging by his state, it seemed he'd acted on his own—taking over the Pentagon and claiming Arkanthia for himself. He hadn't believed demons were demons; he'd worshipped them as gods. What a fucking idiot!
That one moron had dragged magitech out into the world, stirring up chaos once more. If they'd used it properly, fine—but these assholes were turning that power into a tool for violence. That's why I hate magitech. How many imperial soldiers had he killed so far? Too many to count. The Magic Tower was crawling with them. And yet, they were still immature compared to the Arkanthian magitech soldiers from his past life. Weak, in other words.
Yuria had said she'd share what he wanted to know once they reached the 300th floor. He had no idea what was up there, but he'd follow her lead for now. Or maybe it was just an excuse to wipe out every Arkanthian bastard in the tower. Leave them to Rowen while she waited. It worked out for both of them, but he didn't like it much.
"Tired?"
"Obviously."
"Hehe, hang in there just a bit longer~"
"How about helping instead of just watching? You're the Magic Tower master, but I'm the only one fighting here."
"You barge in on your own and now you complain? Don't you owe a toll at least?"
Rowen had nothing to say. Thinking about it, he'd started the fight to take on the Arkanthians and the defected mages. He'd stormed into the tower without permission and run into Yuria, who'd sensed his presence. ...Even less to say now.
"You even froze the two gatekeepers to start with, right?"
"Sorry about that."
"Well, they were just apprentices who'd heeded Arkanthia's call. I get it—no helping it."
"...I said sorry."
"You froze my two disciples without warning, so you'll fight hard from now on, yeah?"
"...Damn it."
Rowen grumbled as he pressed onward. Arahan watched with a smirk. She sidled up beside him, matching his pace. Seeing the light return to his eyes eased her mind.
"Mother's safe, right?"
"With His Majesty Lucius by her side, she'll be fine."
"...Yeah, with the holy relic, she won't die at least."
"Rosmerta... you mean?"
"Yeah, Rosmerta boosts speed with its wielder. At least she won't get caught."
By now, they'd probably reached Kalia Rune and evaded the Arkanthians' eyes. Lucius burned with vengeance too, but his target was Muron—and Rowen had already gotten revenge for him. Sorry about that.
"We'll meet eventually."
When they did, he'd tell him everything. About Muron and his backers. About the demon cult truly pulling Arkanthia's strings. He still needed more investigation, though.
Come to think of it, Yuria had been oddly calm when the demon cult came up. Did she know something?
"Yuria."
"Yes~?"
"You know something about the demon cult?"
A brief silence. Yuria twirled a lock of pink hair, pondering. Then she spoke.
"I'd be lying if I said no."
"Tell me. I need any info you have."
"...Revenge again?"
Rowen shook his head. Revenge played a part, sure—but that wasn't the main goal. These bastards were tied to demons. The hero's blessing forced hatred for demons upon him. To stop anything connected to them, he needed every scrap of information. Especially since their aim was surely awakening the Demon Kings.
For Kael's request alone, he had to stop them. The King of Severe Cold awakens. Guard the North. We Valenos are the North. Pride and family protection both demanded it. His mindset had shifted slightly from before.
Yuria noticed, chuckling softly.
"You've changed a little."
"I'm the same."
"Hehe, aside from that."
Ahem. Yuria cleared her throat.
"I said some disciples left with Master, right?"
"Yeah."
"Truth is, they went to investigate the demon cult with her."
"...With Mio?"
"Yes!"
Yuria smiled innocently, but her eyes weren't. They gazed afar, tinged with anger.
"Rumor has it the demon cult's expanding lately."
"We haven't heard."
"You're on the run, dodging eyes—what would you hear?"
"...Fair."
"Anyway, I didn't know that Muron guy was demon cult."
Rowen eyed her.
"So Arkanthia's backers being the demon cult...?"
"Yeah, first I heard. Master might know by now, though."
Mio's whereabouts—she'd left with her disciples to chase demon cult traces. Probably right when the Arkanthians blocked the North. Same as ever: proactive, sharp-eared, clever. A thousand years on, and she hadn't changed. Reassuring.
"So. Where'd she go?"
"Two years ago, to Arkanthia. No word since."
"...What?"
"Don't freak out. Master's not dead~ Just the info network between Arkanthia and Winterer got cut."
Rowen sighed. That bastard Muron. He'd planned to offer Winterer to his demonic masters. Unintended headache.
"So you don't know where she is now?"
"Nope. But don't worry—my lab on 300 solves that."
"Damn it."
Bottom line: climb the tower for answers. No change there. Rowen sighed, ascending.
300th floor.
Passing the blood-soaked 299th floor littered with Arkanthian soldiers' corpses, they reached the top. Mages were mages, after all. Tomes floated about, unfamiliar magic orbs and tools everywhere. Transparent paper aglow with starlight, pens flying through air. The massive circular ceiling—surely it—displayed a blue galaxy.
Lively spirits swarmed Yuria, circling her.
"You're a spirit mage?"
"Nope~?"
"Then what's with them?"
"Ah~ My kids?"
"...Kids?"
"Precisely, unique spirits born from my mana. With me till death."
"Ah."
Unique spirits—companions born from a spirit user's mana, aiding mana circuit flexibility till the end. In his past life, Mio had dozens. Yuria's mana must be pure.
"Anyway, we're here. Time to tell you."
Yuria chanted toward the round ceiling. The galaxy bloomed, turning the narrow room vast. Gentle star waves flowed past, rune language trailing. Diverse life and mana tongues assaulted eyes and ears, illuminating the void.
"...Whoa."
"Young master... this?"
"First time for me too."
Yuria giggled.
"Of course. My original spell."
"...How many originals you got?"
"Hehe, who knows~?"
"[Incantation flows—stars weave, runes awaken]"
⟨ Galaxy Mirror ⟩
One passing starlight twinkled, rippling into haze that formed a mirror. It reflected Yuria—then a familiar silhouette overlaid.
His adventure companion, magitech destroyer. By his side longest, planting hope in his mana-starved self. Now, unreachable.
She stood in darkness, red lightning crashing. Ominous as the Great War a millennium ago.
Rowen knew the place. Mana clouds thick with demonic energy. Gate to another realm, demons awaiting. Lawless arena of endless kill-or-be-killed.
Existence itself a gladiator pit. No demon hated fighting—lesser ones craved promotion. Fight, grow, win. Victory piled honor, ascending ranks. Endless strengthening. That's why demons are dangerous.
Four Heavenly Kings crushed them instantly. Legion Lords commanded the Kings. Above all: Demon Kings.
But the six couldn't flee their world. Sealed by greatest hero ever, Rian Rose. They don't die—sealing's the only way.
One bastard slew him in a single strike. Seventh king, rank one: Beelzebub, Demon King.
Previous hero Rian Rose, Great Knight, drove him to exhaustion. Four heroes sealed him after.
Rowen remembered. Past life memory—just 16 years ago. Unforgettable. That foul world's aura. Standing there induced vomit, lust. Demonic taint stirred deep desires, driving him alone at Beelzebub.
Shameful. He'd apologize to comrades someday. This filthy memory clung indelibly.
"...Pandemonium?"
Demons' home. Otherworld. Hell. Many names, but hell fit best. Foes of gods, heroes' endgame. Where Rowen died.
She was near the Demon King's castle. Rowen sensed her sorrow. No good news ahead. His hand trembled, nearly reaching for her mirrored one.
"...Mio?"
The mirror's her startled, turning.
"Who's there!?"
Yuria covered Rowen's mouth. She understood, but if Mio knew he lived... she'd abandon her mission. Duty before personal.
Rowen agreed. She'd left for the world.
"Master, it's me!"
"Ah, Yuria? What's up?"
"Got a question~"
Yuria greeted warmly. Rowen bit his lip at Mio's weary face. Arahan eyed him suspiciously.
"Young master."
"...Yeah?"
Arahan caressed his cheek, guiding his gaze to her.
"...Don't stare so intently, please."
"But."
"I know you respect her, but... it feels a bit... unpleasant."
"...Got it."
Arahan's eyes weren't joking. Anxiety, jealousy. Rowen didn't grasp her feelings fully, but defying her now felt risky. Not yet, but later...