Chapter 42
Episode 42
"What did you say?"
The junior mage delivering the order flinched under the murderous glare of Clayton Racton, an elder of the Earth Magic Tower.
"All ten disciples under Mage Grick have been summoned... Eek! I-I'm just delivering the message, Elder!"
Clayton, who usually made an effort to smile despite his intimidating appearance—since only his disciples could meet his gaze without flinching—barely suppressed his rising killing intent at the junior mage's reaction.
"I see. I know. I know. The Tower Master—this bastard is pushing it to the end..."
What crime had this messenger committed? The real culprit was the Tower Master.
Clayton exhaled deeply, forcing his anger down.
"Where to? For how long?"
He asked, hoping the Tower Master had at least a shred of conscience left.
"MacLaine Territory—some backwater at the southwestern edge. The construction period is six months..."
"What?"
Despite his quiet tone, the sudden surge of mana and killing intent filled the room.
The junior mage, his face turning pale, clutched his chest as Clayton's impassive expression betrayed none of the fury radiating from him.
"Guh—E-Elder!"
"Hmm. My apologies for that."
Clayton barely restrained his anger again, allowing the junior mage to catch his breath.
Then, before the man could recover, Clayton leaned in with a terrifying glare and asked,
"So. That absurd—no, that order—is truly real? Not a lie?"
"Y-Yes! Of course!"
"Huuu. Is that so?"
With Clayton's deep inhale, the killing intent flared once more, and the innocent junior mage's complexion shifted rapidly.
"Fine. You may go."
"Th-Thank you!"
Clatter!
As the mage scrambled out noisily, Clayton's sharp gaze followed him.
Of course, the fury in that gaze wasn't directed at the messenger—but at the one who had issued the order.
MacLaine? Some territory I've never even heard of, and for half a year? Ha.
Until now, the assignments had been consecutive but short-term, near the capital.
Lately, the duration had been stretching longer, and now it seemed they were being sent away indefinitely.
His disciples—all in their twenties, at the prime of their development—would be stuck working instead of training.
"Tower Master Redios. Are you really trying to provoke me?"
Everything had started a year ago, when Clayton reached the Fifth Circle and became an elder.
Fifth Circle at barely fifty—too young to be called an "elder" by conventional standards, but the rules couldn't stop his promotion.
No doubt, the Tower Master resented a rival's disciple threatening his position.
Fine. Clayton could understand that much.
"But you go after my disciples? To this extent?"
He had tried to endure it, but this was too much.
The Tower Master had been dumping all field assignments on his disciples, leaving them no time to rest, let alone train or research.
And now, they had just returned this morning—only to be immediately assigned another grueling mission?
"It's time to settle this once and for all."
With a face dark with fury, Clayton Racton—the youngest elder of the Earth Magic Tower—stormed out of his room.
"Are these... the people?"
Logan gave the Tower Master a skeptical look, to which the man smiled and nodded.
"Indeed. They will assist you for six months. Grick, aren't you the representative? Introduce yourself. This is Lord Logan MacLaine—your employer for the next half-year."
"Huuu. Third-Circle Mage Grick. Pleasure to meet you."
A young mage, likely in his thirties, stepped forward as the representative of the ten mages. His greeting came with a long sigh.
More than anything, the dark circles under his eyes and pallid complexion stood out first.
The others behind him looked just as haggard.
At a glance, they were utterly exhausted.
"Logan MacLaine."
After exchanging brief introductions and dismissing the mages for a moment, Logan frowned and spoke up.
"They look like they're about to collapse, Tower Master. Are these really the right people?"
"Despite appearances, they're the most experienced young talents in our tower for construction work. They'll perform their duties well."
"Hmm..."
"They may seem tired now, but these are our tower's specialists—specialized in construction. Haha."
Specialists in construction.
Even Logan, who wasn't a mage, knew no mage would be happy to hear that.
It was no different from belittling them.
Logan's slightly bewildered gaze turned to the Tower Master, recalling the depressed expressions of the young mages earlier—but the Tower Master's expression didn't waver.
"They do seem competent, though."
If anything, the Tower Master's face stiffened slightly at the compliment.
"Haha. Indeed. They're capable. Very... capable."
Listening to the Tower Master's hollow praise, Logan fell deep into thought.
The deal itself isn't bad. But...
After three hours of haggling, Redios had nearly convulsed when naming that price.
Effectively, he had slashed the mages' fees to nothing.
From Logan's perspective, it was a satisfying deal—but seeing how skilled the exhausted mages appeared made him uneasy.
Logan's senses assessed their levels as...
Almost Third-Circle Masters, with nine Second-Circle Experts and Masters.
And all in their twenties—talents any tower would covet.
Why send such people out at a discount? And while incurring their resentment?
Naturally, it felt like there had to be some ulterior motive.
"Now, now—it's all stipulated in the contract here."
Thud.
Perhaps sensing Logan's hesitation, the Tower Master hastily pushed forward the contract—already stamped with his seal, the ink barely dry.
As if asking, You're not backing out now, are you?
That only made it more suspicious, leaving Logan no choice but to hesitate.
Why are the terms so favorable?
As Logan furrowed his brows in contemplation—
Bang!
The door burst open, and a cold voice cut through the room.
"Tower Master! We need to talk."
A face sharper than the voice—piercing eyes, a rough beard, and a scar running from the right temple to above the left lip.
He looked less like a mage and more like a battle-hardened mercenary—no, a murderer.
His massive frame, hidden beneath robes, seemed better suited for armor.
"Clayton?"
A hint of panic tinged Redios' voice as the middle-aged man flung the door open, revealing young mages trying to hold him back.
"Master!"
"Master, you don't have to do this!"
The Tower Master's spacious chamber instantly turned as noisy as a marketplace—but Logan's eyes widened in shock at the newcomer.
Fifth Circle!
Logan's senses clearly detected five earthen-yellow Circles pulsing in the man's heart.
Even Romerun, standing behind the Tower Master, grimaced and shrank back—and not just because of the man's serial-killer appearance.
But the Tower Master merely hardened his expression slightly.
"Elder Clayton. We have a guest here. We'll discuss this later."
"Isn't this about my disciples? We're talking now."
"...Elder Clayton. Must you embarrass yourself in front of a guest?"
"You're the one embarrassing the tower, Tower Master. Sending out our future talents out of spite—"
"Enough!"
Redios' face flushed red at Clayton's icy rebuke.
But after glancing at Logan, he sighed deeply and continued slowly.
"This is for the tower's benefit. Who else works as well as your disciples?"
"That's exactly my point—why only my disciples? Especially when they just returned today!"
Daggers flew from Clayton's eyes, but Redios remained unmoved.
"Tch! For the tower's sake! Don't you know hardship builds character? This is for their own good!"
"You've been tormenting them because you can't order me around, haven't you? Did you think I'd just stand by?"
As the argument dragged on, Logan quietly absorbed the necessary information from their exchange.
So that's it.
He instantly understood why such a favorable contract had been so easily offered.
The tower's internal strife had worked in his favor.
"If you refuse the Tower Master's orders, you and your disciples are free to leave anytime."
"Ha—what? Is that a threat?"
Clayton's fury surged alongside his mana, and in response, the Tower Master's own mana erupted violently.
Whooom.
The same earthen hue, but entirely different in nature—their clashing mana shook the entire room.
Oh-ho!
A high-level mage duel—Logan's first in this life—would have been fascinating to watch.
But that's not the issue right now.
Now that he understood their situation, his unease vanished. So what was left to do?
Logan swiftly pulled out his identity plate and stamped it on the contract.
Thud!
"With this, the contract is sealed. The ten of you—come with me."
His calm voice shattered the tension like glass, drawing all eyes to him.
"Ah! As for you two... Well, sort it out yourselves. The contract remains valid even if the Tower Master changes, right?"
But Logan's face was all smiles as he waved the contract.
The two mages stared at him in disbelief.
Their reactions, however, were starkly different.
Ahem. "My apologies for the unsightly display in front of a guest. Very well. The scrolls will be delivered as they're completed."
"Tower Master! We're not done!"
"Elder Clayton! Are you really going to defy an official Earth Magic Tower contract? Remember your position!"
Romerun's sudden interjection earned him a glare hot enough to melt steel—but his words weren't wrong.
Clayton's face trembled with suppressed rage, but he had no choice but to relent, stepping back.
As the Tower Master and Romerun smirked at his retreat, Clayton uttered words no one expected.
"Fine! Then I'll go with my disciples."
"Clayton!"
"An elder trailing after a construction site—are you disregarding the tower's dignity?"
"My disciples come before the tower's dignity! If some heartless bastards won't let them rest, I'll go and finish the job quickly myself!"
"How self-centered. Do you really think—"
"As an elder, I have the freedom to act unless the tower's fate is at stake. Have you forgotten?"
"...Hah. Is that your stance? Do as you please. A Fifth-Circle mage at a construction site—ridiculous."
The icy exchange between Tower Master and elder seemed to reach a stalemate—but one critical issue remained.
"Um... gentlemen? I didn't hire a Fifth-Circle mage."
All eyes turned to Logan again.
Why would I need a Fifth-Circle mage for construction? That's a waste of money.
Hiring a mage of that caliber was exorbitant.
Rumors said their fees started at a terrifying one million gold—and Logan had no intention of such extravagance.
Absolutely not!
As Logan steeled himself to refuse outright—
"I'm just there to assist my disciples. I won't take payment. I'll only help expedite the work."
Those heavenly words made Logan bow at a perfect 90-degree angle instantly.
"I'll attend to you with utmost respect, Elder. What kind of carriage would you prefer?"
Even Clayton's murderous face went blank at the abrupt change in attitude.
"...An ordinary one will suffice, Lord."
"I'll prepare the most comfortable ride possible."
Who's the employer and who's the employee here?
Everyone stared in bewilderment—but Logan just grinned brightly.
Yes! Top-tier talent for free!
A Fifth-Circle mage rendered the original purpose—Collapse Scrolls—completely unnecessary.
So when Clayton added another condition, Logan nodded without hesitation.
"Give us one more day. My disciples need to rest before departure."
"Of course. I have preparations to wrap up too."
The tower contract had struck gold—and Logan's smile wouldn't fade anytime soon.