The Master of the Tower Dreaming of Beyond (8)
"Long time no see, Leonar. I knew we'd meet again someday, but I never imagined it would be like this."
"Same here."
"Did you open the mark and come in?"
"Yeah. Matching those words you love so much."
Orlean nodded with a soft smile.
"If it's the Leonar I know, a mere mark like that wouldn't even qualify as an obstacle. Ah, have some tea."
Orlean gestured for Celestine and Bibian—who were looking back and forth between us in bewilderment—to drink up.
"I didn't put anything strange in it."
It was a joke, but Bibian flinched right as her lips touched the teacup and sniffed it cautiously.
"You're still terrible at jokes."
"Haha. People don't change that easily."
"Um, Guild Master…."
Celestine, still scratching her head in confusion, leaned toward me and whispered. Her shirt was soaked with sweat, but instead of any odor, that familiar perfume scent wafted over.
"Is he a friend…?"
"Not a friend."
"Then what is he…?"
"A mage I worked with on a few commissions. Looks normal enough, but his head's not right."
"Gasp…."
My voice must have carried, but as always, Orlean wore that serene, benevolent smile.
"Have some snacks too."
As Orlean casually offered the treats, Celestine hesitated for a moment before reaching out and popping one into her mouth.
"This is delicious."
"Is there anything you don't like?"
"The Guild Master's cooking…."
"Haha!"
I laughed, and Orlean responded with a warm smile of his own.
"So, is this your tower, Mage?"
Bibian asked cautiously, and Orlean nodded.
"Yes. Mages who've reached a certain age build towers infused with their personal tastes. Mine, as you can see, is like this."
Orlean extended a finger. A gentle breeze stirred toward where he pointed, lifting petals of every color into the air. Amid that unrealistically beautiful sight, I asked,
"What are you doing here?"
"What else? Managing the flower field, as you see. I've planted even more varieties since you last visited."
It did look that way, but that wasn't the point right now.
"Something else has changed too."
"What do you mean? Ah, I see."
Orlean stretched out his arm, and from the lake's center, rock-like lumps began rising from the water.
"I released some turtles into the lake. Cute, aren't they?"
Bibian and Celestine's eyes went wide at the casually cast spell. I snorted at the turtles flailing in midair.
"Stop tormenting the poor things. You know exactly what I'm talking about."
"Hmm."
Orlean returned the turtles to the water, rolled up his robe sleeve, and lifted his teacup. He sipped leisurely, peering at me over the rim.
That bastard.
"What's got you so curious?"
"There's a new prison underground—one I haven't seen before."
"Indeed. It is a prison. I'm capturing troublemakers who sow chaos in the world and reforming them. A recent hobby of mine."
"Is that right? It looked plenty suspicious—care to explain exactly what it is?"
"Haha, Leonar."
Orlean laughed as if he couldn't help it, spreading his hands wide.
"It's been so long since we last met. Let's skip the dreary underground prison talk and hear about your recent doings."
"My recent doings?"
"I know you slew the great demon that descended on the Grangtest Empire a few months back."
"What?!"
Bibian yelped, spraying cookie crumbs across my face.
"Captain… what are you…."
"Ah, sorry! Ahem!"
Bibian clapped a hand over her mouth and hurriedly chewed and swallowed the rest. Meanwhile, Celestine gaped at me, jaw practically on the floor, frozen solid. She'd never believed me when I said I'd killed the great demon. Well, a mage's word carried more weight than a demon hunter's, naturally.
"Leonar slew the great demon?!"
Bibian demanded once she'd cleared her mouth.
"Yeah. But it's a secret—the Empire paid me to keep quiet."
"So it wasn't the imperial knight commander…. Oh my god…."
Unable to process it, Bibian rolled her strangely mingled green-gold eyes, muttering to herself.
"From the start, no matter how strong the imperial knight commander is, slaying a great demon is absurd. Only Demon Hunters can face demons with a sound mind."
Orlean backed me up with an explanation.
"So, after the Empire betrayed you, what have you been up to?"
"Crossed into the Nant Duchy and joined a guild."
"Nant Duchy. A fine place. So you're guild master now?"
"Nah, clerk. Didn't qualify for guild master. Just drawing a salary."
I hadn't told Celestine the full story about the clerk guild yet, and sitting beside me was the border guard's investigation captain, in charge of city security. Spilling everything outright here could come back to haunt me later.
"I see. A clerk. Hard to picture the Leonar I know hunched over a desk with a pen."
"That's why I'm restless and wandering. Came here today on a commission."
"A commission?"
"Gotta run commissions to eat. This one's a real mess, though—a total headache. You know the kind of jobs Demon Hunters take."
"All too well. So, what is it?"
"Folks in a small village turned into living corpses."
Orlean nodded calmly, urging me to go on.
"No cognition, no survival instinct—just breathing husks. At first, I suspected a higher demon's soul extraction."
"And?"
"But no demon traces, no matter how deep I dug. So I used Blind Vision."
"Blind Vision. A sharp—and dangerous—technique. Did you find it?"
"Found it. Sharp and dangerous, just like you said."
"What was it?"
I stared at Orlean in silence. He met my gaze steadily with those lonely sea-blue eyes—like peering into the unfathomable North Sea.
As we locked eyes, Bibian glanced anxiously between us. Celestine, cookie still in her mouth, started eyeing the situation warily.
"Why'd you do it?"
I asked, and Orlean smiled softly.
"Why do you think?"
"To build that perfect world you've always dreamed of. Control, peace, sacrifice—the whole triad."
Orlean smiled wordlessly and took a sip of tea.
"So you decided to magically erase humanity's negative traits?"
Orlean remained silent, smiling.
"But no matter how brilliant a mage you are, you couldn't artificially sever human emotions and will with magic alone. So you ripped them out, gave them form, and planned to separate them physically? Those things in the underground prison are manifestations of those emotions and wills."
Orlean raised both hands, laughing, and shook his head.
"I yield. A true Demon Hunter—or perhaps just you."
"Both. Did it work? The underground prison looked like a failure."
"Still in the experimental phase."
"Still, huh. Sounds like a flop."
"Far from it. Progressing smoothly."
"Yeah, yeah. You've always answered with unshakable confidence, no matter what."
Orlean smiled. His smile was as beautiful as ever, but I knew what lay behind it: affection, tolerance, arrogance, dogmatism, madness, sacrifice, obsession. A chaotic blend of irreconcilable traits no ordinary person could comprehend. A high mage who'd devoted his life to forging a flawless world free of conflict or misery. That was the master of the tower dreaming of "beyond"—the mage Orlean.
"Quit the weird experiments and restore them. Only then can I wrap up the commission properly. I've gotta eat too."
Orlean, who'd been smiling silently, spoke in a calm, affectionate tone.
"This world needs proper control for true peace—and some sacrifice is inevitable along the way. Such is humanity."
"So you won't?"
"Not exactly. Just give me time. A bit more research, and I can isolate only the positive aspects from those in the prison…."
"No, no."
I waved him off.
"Who asked you to do any of that? As far as I know, no one's ever begged you to perfect the world."
"It requires no request. It's the sacred duty of any who tread the path of magic. A task only mages can undertake."
I burst out laughing and shook my head.
"No one expects that from mages. They'd be thrilled if you just cut spellcasting fees a little."
"Leonar. Souls like ours must gaze not at the coin before us, but toward that 'beyond'."
"Wrong. I have zero interest in some 'beyond' that might not even exist. I just want to finish this commission and get paid. So, Orlean—restore the villagers I came from. Then I'll leave your flower field in peace."
"I cannot."
Orlean shook his head, his silver hair rippling like waves.
"This is an indispensable step toward a better world."
"Don't dress it up so nobly. Those monsters you extracted and materialized in the prison—you can't separate just the bad parts, can you? Put them all back."
"That's impossible. The experiment's nearly complete; I can't halt it now. Later, via proper methods, I'll separate and restore only the positives. I promise."
"No. Do it now. The villagers are starving to death even as we speak—no food, no water. You're killing them."
Orlean sighed faintly.
"As I said—some sacrifice is inevitable."
"A mage capable of reaching that 'beyond' would've found a way to avoid even that. Restore them. Now."
"This is the most promising experiment of all I've conducted."
Orlean coaxed gently.
"Please, don't interfere. This time, success is within reach."
"Enough bullshit. Your track record of mad experiments says this one's doomed too."
"Leonar…."
"If you won't, I'll make you."
"Is that so."
Orlean's sea-blue eyes drifted to Nightrend's hilt.
"You're the finest Demon Hunter alive. Even a high mage like me hesitates to cross blades with you."
"Exactly—so let's part amicably, no hard feelings."
Suddenly, the world stretched taut. Celestine and Bibian receded into the distance. The table vanished, leaving me facing Orlean alone in the flower field.
"You're truly set on this?"
"This time, I cannot yield. Not even for the sincere friendship I hold for you."