Chapter 162
Chapter 162
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 162
Chapter Title: Magic Tower's Heir (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Nazarius pondered for a very brief moment.
If he cast magic here, what were the odds of taking down Theo and escaping unscathed?
But,
“You’d better not entertain any other ideas.”
Before Nazarius could make a move, the sword clinging to his nape dug in deeper.
Drip!
Red blood trickled down the blade.
In that instant, Nazarius realized Theo wasn’t bluffing.
He planned to take him alive, but scrap him on the spot if he so much as twitched wrong.
“Not quite the big shot I was hoping for, but maybe they won’t treat someone like him too shabbily?”
Nazarius muttered something utterly incomprehensible to Theo, let the staff slip from his hand, and raised both arms high.
“I surrender. Try to keep it painless.”
* * *
“…What? Must be something wrong with my ears. Feels like I just heard some nonsense.”
“That’s exactly what you heard, sir. We captured the Magic Tower’s heir.”
“So why the hell is the Magic Tower’s heir here?!”
Selphred gawked at the two bundles(?) Theo’s group had hauled in, then jolted in shock upon learning the truth.
It was a situation that defied all logic as far as he was concerned.
Theo just shrugged.
“No clue on our end. Pure chance encounter. Guess he was plotting some terrorist stunt up North.”
Selphred pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger before firing back.
“Any chance you got the wrong guy?”
“None. Black Snow already confirmed his identity.”
“Black Snow? So they’d already sniffed him out and were tailing him?”
“Yes, sir.”
“…You didn’t just pour shit all over Black Snow’s operation, did you?”
Turf wars with other units cropped up all too often during field ops.
If they’d barged into Black Snow’s scheme over the heir midway, it could ignite a nasty inter-unit political firestorm.
The frontline White Dragon Knights and the shadowy Black Snow complemented each other operationally, but their personal relations were anything but cordial.
“Pfft, that’s on them.”
“That’s on them…?”
“You’ll handle the cleanup, right, Senior?”
“What the—?”
Only then did Selphred clock that Theo had pulled the trigger knowing exactly what he was stirring up.
One wrong move, and Captain Julius would have his hide!
Selphred leaned in to grill Theo when the door to their rented cafe flew open with a irritable slam.
Bang!
“Theo Ragnar! We know you’re in there! Get out here now!!”
Fuming footsteps stormed in.
Selphred scowled at the face leading the pack.
Klevé—one of Black Snow’s elite eight Mushir.
“Hey! The Dragon-Ascendant hasn’t even returned yet—you really gonna…!”
Selphred whipped his head toward Theo, but.
“He’s already gone. Said to leave the aftermath to you.”
Arin shook her head with a hollow chuckle.
Selphred’s face twisted into a scowl.
This star junior of his was too damn good—now he’d be stuck cleaning up a monster mess.
* * *
Theo stepped into the room rigged up inside the cafe, where Wellington was keeping watch over Nazarius and Zirima. He scratched his cheek with an index finger.
“Pretty sure I heard some yelling outside just now?”
“It’s fine. I trust Senior Selphred.”
Theo flashed a cheeky grin.
Wellington, on the other hand, let out a sigh.
“You sure this is wise? Black Snow isn’t some pushover outfit that’ll just watch prey snatched from under their nose.”
“What can you do? We’re the ones who bagged them in the end.”
“…Handle it your way. Master’s no doubt ripping his hair out as we speak.”
Truth be told, Wellington had felt an inexplicable chill ever since Theo tracked down the Black Snow agent.
Black Snow must’ve figured Theo—half one of theirs—would play ball and assist, so they’d leaked Nazarius’s position.
But Theo had spectacularly dashed those hopes, and Nazarius wound up in his clutches.
‘And a clean takedown with zero casualties to boot. Where the hell did he pick up anti-mage combat tactics…?’
By now, Wellington was starting to get genuinely spooked by Theo.
What the hell *wasn’t* crammed in that head?
‘Sorry, buddy.’
On another note, he offered a silent prayer for the Black Snow agent no doubt getting absolutely eviscerated by their boss right about now.
And,
‘Black Snow didn’t set this up—that kid Ragnar did?’
Zirima was floored overhearing their exchange.
If that was true, then the Magic Tower’s vaunted Star of David had been played like a fiddle by some sixteen-year-old punk.
Psychological warfare to crush their morale? Maybe.
But the vibe in the room and the shouts echoing from outside said otherwise.
Above all.
Even Wellington—ranked shoulder-to-shoulder with Nazarius—was yielding ground to Theo.
Which meant the intel was spot-on: the North’s top prodigy wasn’t Wellington, but Theo Ragnar.
Hell, it went beyond that.
This was straight-up fealty, not mere deference. The North’s next generation of leadership would revolve around Theo.
‘And on that note, the Sub-Tower Lord seems to be scheming something too.’
Nazarius hadn’t so much as flinched since becoming a prisoner. Composed as ever.
Like he’d seen this coming a mile away.
‘It’s obvious. The Sub-Tower Lord planned to let himself get captured by them from the jump.’
Parading through busy streets shopping, pulling stunts guaranteed to draw Black Snow’s eye—and keeping Zirima in the dark for a reason.
‘Goddamn if I can figure out what anyone’s thinking.’
Zirima didn’t bother grilling Nazarius on the plan.
He just hoped the sly fox lurking under that childish mask would navigate this mess with his usual finesse.
One hitch: Theo Ragnar was a sly fox in his own right—and no pushover.
“You have the grimoire, right?”
Nazarius beamed at Theo—then his eyebrow twitched despite himself.
A blink-and-miss-it shift.
Theo caught it cold.
Grin!
A smirk tugged at his lips.
Sudden jab, and it landed *perfect*.
“As expected.”
“Strange thing to say. More to the point—what’re you planning to do with us? Hand us over to Winterer for hostage talks? Or leverage us to drag the Magic Tower into the Northern war?”
“Question is, where is it? Tore through your gear top to bottom—no dice.”
“One thing I’ll say: no one draws the line between public and personal like my granduncle, the Tower Lord. So don’t expect smooth negotiations.”
“Figured you wouldn’t spill easy.”
“But I’m fully willing to cooperate with your interrogation. Life’s my top priority, after all. Fetch your superior.”
“Torture wouldn’t loosen your tongue anyway.”
Theo and Nazarius’s back-and-forth just spun circles in dead air, never quite connecting.
Still, Theo got the vibe Nazarius wouldn’t play ball.
And Nazarius came away with the firm impression that Theo was no amateur.
‘How the hell does he know about the grimoire? The imperial secret vault’s location was top-secret even for the Magic Tower?’
The emperor—who could drop dead any second—doted on his empress, a Magic Tower plant.
And Ragnar somehow knew the intel they’d barely pried from her?
Nazarius’s threat rating on Ragnar skyrocketed.
A-rank to S+.
“No time to smuggle the grimoire off anywhere. So it’s gotta be here.”
Every time Theo’s gaze sharpened, Nazarius tensed up despite himself.
He was still confident it wouldn’t blow his cover.
At surface level, Paracelsus was just a plain old orb…
“This is it.”
Theo zeroed in on Paracelsus from the impounded pouch without hesitation.
Nazarius and Zirima both reeled inwardly.
‘This the one, right, Roddy?’
『Yep. How many grimoires has that thing slurped up? Stinks to high heaven from here. Churns out garbage like this no matter what? Tsk!』
Without Lordbroke’s nudge, Theo never would’ve pinpointed Paracelsus.
‘Not just Belphegor’s grimoire, but a whole mess of other demons’ crammed into one artifact.’
Lordbroke dubbed Paracelsus the “Demonic Source Code Complex.”
『Big ol’ blueprint stitched together with all sorts of codes in a slick patchwork, running specific algorithms for endless simulations to build learning capacity. Artificial intelligence, basically.』
Lordbroke kept going.
『At this stage, you could say it’s got its own judgment and will. Lucky it hasn’t hit true free will yet—not dangerous for now. But the tipping point’s closing in fast.』
Theo was pretty damn shocked on the inside.
Meaning it was a hair’s breadth from becoming a full-on “lifeform.”
‘What the hell did the Magic Tower cook up?’
Not even his past-life memories offered a clue.
One thing was dead certain, though.
Paracelsus gave off a faint blue glow.
Theo grappled with Paracelsus for a good long while.
Pumping in mana? Nada.
Chanting activation words? Zilch.
Hell,
[Skill activation failed for unknown reasons.]
Not even thought-reading worked.
『Looks like quantum entanglement encryption. Even us dragons would struggle to crack this caliber—pretty slick for humans.』
“Slick,” his ass—Lordbroke was impressed.
‘Any way around it?’
『Not right now. Force it, and it might blow sky-high. Then…』
‘We’re toast.’
『Can’t save your hide.』
Quest completion staring him in the face—give up?
『Homunculus work is that finicky. Code-ifying mountains of data, self-learning judgment algorithms? Nightmare process. Impressive payoff, but delicate as hell. The final line before stepping into god’s turf.』
Theo groaned low.
Selphred and Arin were stonewalling Klevé for all they were worth, but they wouldn’t hold out long. Burst-in imminent.
Then Paracelsus would slip away too.
Clue to restoring Belphegor? Gone for good.
“…”
Screw that—Theo felt a burning urge to crack this thing regardless.
A homunculus gorged on demonic grimoires.
What if the Magic Tower was resurrecting demons or some shit?
He glared at Nazarius in frustration, and the bastard shot back a smirk.
Like, *what, wrestling a plain orb?*
Theo itched to deck him.
Then it hit him like lightning.
-If it’s so delicate from handling massive data loads, what happens if you shove in data orders of magnitude tougher to parse?
‘Roddy, you said it’s a self-analyzing, learning AI?’
『More or less.』
‘What if we feed it my blood?’
『Your blood? Why… Oh!』
‘Mine’s packed with ancient dragon DNA *plus* Ragnar bloodline factors. If it’s pure demonic code chow, imagine dumping a tidal wave of opposing dragon data. Won’t end well for it.’
Dump a ton of red paint into blue? Boom—green.
Same deal: Theo would drown Paracelsus in ancient dragon factors and rewrite its core identity entirely.
‘Might even flip the ownership code my way.’
『And if it flops?』
‘Salvage Belphegor from the scraps. Piece of cake.’
Theo grinned.
‘Worst case, if I can’t have it… nobody can.’
『Devious little…』
‘Ragnar through and through.’
『Now *that’s* the spirit!』
Theo traded mental fist-bumps with Lordbroke, drew Deathbite from his bosom, and gashed his thumb deep.
Blood welled from the gash and splattered onto Paracelsus.
Bzzz!
The till-now-still black orb shivered violently—then sprouted grotesque cog teeth and a red tongue to slurp up Theo’s blood greedily.
-New data cluster detected. Analysis in progress. Factors identified: extinct ancient dragon lineage. Value grade: SSS+++….