Seeking the Second Legacy #1
Iron Tower Master Iron Hanma. A mage who placed utmost emphasis on physical prowess—a true eccentric among eccentrics. He was an old man devoted to research and training to inherit the legacy of ancient battle mages.
His gaze toward Lawrence grew subtly intrigued.
Hoo, would you look at that?
Was this truly the body of an eleven-year-old? Any stranger would mistake him for a teenager in the throes of puberty. Lawrence's physique was that flawless, brimming with such overflowing talent.
He drew in a sharp breath, taking a closer look.
Has there been a mage with a body like this lately?
The Iron Tower was an ancient magic tower, but it had been ages since any new recruits showed up. Its founding principle demanded balanced development of mind, spirit, and body for all mages. Naturally, modern mages couldn't endure it, stubbornly chasing raw destructive power instead.
Why? Because knights and soldiers would protect them anyway.
And so, the youngest member at the Iron Tower this year was forty years old.
When the hell are we getting new blood?!
He recalled the desperate wails that echoed once a year. Poor guy.
That was why the tower master couldn't help but covet Lawrence. If a talent like this joined the Iron Tower...
"You really came, Tower Master."
"Hm? You knew I'd attend?"
Iron Hanma asked in surprise at Lawrence's words. He'd come here on just one person's recommendation...
His eyes narrowed mysteriously as he stared at Lawrence again.
"No way..."
"Oh my, if it isn't the Iron Tower Master."
"Ah... Duchess, it's been too long."
Just as he was about to continue, a perfectly timed voice interjected. It was Media Montemer, the lady of Montemer Manor. Surprise flickered across her face—after all, the Iron Tower Master had publicly stated he had no intention of participating in the preliminaries.
Meanwhile, Lawrence gave a quick bow and slipped inside the Tower of Wisdom.
The tower master wanted to grab him, but he couldn't ignore the smiling Media right in front of him. He swallowed his regret.
He'd wanted to talk more...
"I hadn't expected your participation, so I didn't seek you out. What a pleasant surprise."
"Hah, holing up in my chamber forever isn't sustainable. I came to broaden my meager horizons."
"You should have said something in advance. I would have visited you myself..."
"No need. How could I presume to summon someone of your stature...? You're not thinking of saying I'm unqualified, are you?"
There was steel in the tower master's question. Media shook her head without showing a hint of unease.
"Of course not. We'll prepare a special seat for you, so please bear with us just a moment if it's inconvenient."
"What a bother. Don't mind this old bag of bones. All I've got going for me is sturdiness. Ha ha!"
Media smiled gracefully before instructing him to wait inside. She didn't forget to issue her orders smoothly and charismatically to her attendants.
"Hurry and prepare a special seat for the Tower Master."
"Yes, ma'am."
The maids scurried off with quick steps. Media excused herself first, saying she had preparations to make, and departed.
Why is the Iron Tower Master with that brat Lawrence...?
Had they made secret contact? Had he already read all her moves...?
Inheriting his mother's cunning, no less.
The silver lining was that it was the Iron Tower. Located on the frontier, it was tiny and insignificant. And its magic? Laughably inferior to the seven-colored towers. They were dismissed as brute-force mages no one could hit anyway.
Range was another issue. The beauty of magic lay in unleashing high firepower from afar. Their spells, by contrast, had pitifully short range.
Media thought of the maid by Lawrence's side and sneered inwardly.
Hmph, even if he carves out a hidey-hole, it's just a sewer. And... that girl is with him too.
Walking right into her own grave. That maid was surely Rachel, brainwashed by Eckel. Eckel had reported success himself and kept feeding her regular updates on Lawrence's movements. Not a single lie so far.
Go ahead and struggle. By the time you emerge from that tower, there won't be a single place left for you to stand—a true hell.
She was confident. Two years of basic training. Plenty of time to erase Lawrence from the family completely.
#2 The Tower of Wisdom. Where all of Montemer's knowledge and wisdom converged. Standing above the seven-colored towers, it unearthed battle-tested techniques through diverse research or pioneered new magical systems.
Lawrence clenched his fist, gazing at the tower's interior.
In my past life, this was my goal...
A dream for any researcher. But artifact research had stalled completely. Its scale shrank, and eventually, he'd ended up like a prisoner on the empire's fringes.
Looking back, it was inevitable. Artifacts could only be made by dragons, after all.
So much injustice in how things turned.
It hit him anew how unjust his previous life had been. Those bustling researchers looked just like his past self—yet he'd endured vicious discrimination and scorn.
"...Young master?"
"Let's go."
"..."
Rachel eyed Lawrence worriedly as he lingered, absorbing the tower's scene. Sometimes, he seemed to carry some immense pain. And it was odd. What profound agony could an eleven-year-old possibly know...?
But last night...
As Rachel recalled the previous night's events, sharp voices pierced the air. Maids serving the other young masters and ladies.
"Oh, Rachel, is that you?"
"Long time no see, girl."
"Ah, hello. Yes, it's been a while."
They gave Lawrence a perfunctory bow before cutting straight to business. Rude, with no trace of propriety. Arrogance from serving higher-ups, perhaps. Their attitude toward both Lawrence and Rachel was deplorably insolent.
"Young master, maids aren't allowed inside the preliminary exam area. We'll take good care of Rachel."
"Exactly~. Better to learn from us than get scolded, right?"
"Rachel, go ahead."
To her surprise, Lawrence sent her off without protest. Rachel nodded.
But Lawrence looked not at her, but the maids, and said,
"Be careful."
"No worries, young master."
"It'd be best for you all if nothing happens."
The maids just bowed meekly. They were family maids, including those who'd finished basic tower training with Loras. Probably here to assess his magic. He'd see their faces after the written exam.
Lawrence watched Rachel vanish with the maids.
Planning to discipline her, were they? But who would end up disciplining whom... that remained to be seen.
With a smirk, he headed inside for the written exam.
Other families' heirs, tower officials, and Montemer's key figures were already seated.
"Lawrence Montemer, will you participate in this preliminary?"
"Yes."
Anyone over eleven who'd passed the aptitude test could join. Even his older brother Loras had completed basic training at the Blue Tower right after turning eleven. Now, Lawrence was the last Montemer left.
All eyes turned to him. Rumors of earning North Duke Lancel Gaudie's favor had spread like wildfire.
Lawrence took his assigned seat and looked up at the tower officials.
Quite the turnout. Something I never saw in my past life.
The seven-colored tower masters, plus independents who'd carved their own domains. An assembly of figures dominating the empire, continent, and world—it was impressively grand. Their mana alone filled the space.
Come to think of it, I heard something like that.
"Once you enter the preliminaries, knights or mages alike can't use their full power properly. Know why?">
The chatty assassin uncle who'd loved blabbing. Whatever intel the Benoman family handled, seeing it firsthand explained his ramblings.
"It's the tower masters' mana disrupting concentration. Mages and knights must focus even in dire straits. That's why kids sweat bullets just in the written exam."
Lawrence recalled nodding absently while engraving magic circles as the assassin boasted like he'd uncovered a grand secret.
The mana swirling oppressively, as if to crush the examinees, was crystal clear to him. Their "pressure" meant nothing.
Even with this level of pressure...
Why did she order us to exclude young Lord Lawrence?
The bastard purge's fallout? Poor kid.
To the tower masters, Lawrence was a peculiar, pitiable young lord. They'd already struck a deal before the exam began—with Media.
"Lawrence Montemer must not enter any tower."
"Montemer pledges full funding support. The patriarch will approve."
Generous terms just to bar one bastard son. Seeing him sit calmly, they understood her obsession with blocking his path. The exam hadn't even started, and she was already half-victorious.
Such a child, a hated bastard in Montemer...
The no-mana-road rumor false?
Maybe he awakened a unique ability. That would explain it.
If so, the game changed. The tower masters watched him intently, eyes gleaming.
Meanwhile, Lawrence merely marveled at the colorful mana dancing about.
The tower masters' minds raced.
Wait, we just can't let him join a tower, right? Nothing says we can't build personal ties.
Hmm, tricky. Risky...
Skill mattered most. Unique ability or Montemer name be damned—without prowess, no one survived the mage world.
Exam papers testing basic knowledge were distributed.
"You have two hours. Don't even think of cheating. The tower masters' eyes are sharper than anyone's..."
The examinees nodded and began solving with their knowledge.
Lawrence picked up his pen and scanned the problems.
Easier than expected.
To reiterate, Lawrence's true profession was researcher. Meaning his real expertise lay in written exams.