Sage's Tower 1
The final unspoken rule of the Sage's Tower: Do not wish for access to the top floor.
There was precedent, of course. Countless young mages who triumphed at Cherbito had poured wishes into glimpsing the records left by the Great Sage in his lifetime. But not a single one had been granted.
The elders of the three great academies, all in attendance at the grand tournament, had rejected them every time. The official reason was that they weren't ready to receive the Great Sage's wisdom. But the real motive ran deeper.
They couldn't allow a direct disciple from another academy—one not their own—into the Sage's Tower's top floor. Those who had entered once before felt it even more acutely.
The Frederiksen counts, whose lineage stretched back generations, never objected either. El Sion's foundation rested on those three academies. Even his authority, rivaling that of a petty kingdom's king, stemmed from them. He could force it through if he wished, but once precedent was set, there'd be no end to it. Stirring disputes every year was untenable.
And so, under tacit agreement from all, the Sage's Tower's top floor became one wish you simply didn't make.
Until a boy shattered that taboo. An utter outsider, no less.
"Count Frederiksen! That's absurd. Access to the Sage's Tower's top floor?"
"Indeed. This has nothing to do with his skill or worthiness."
"Your Excellency, please reconsider this matter..."
The elders and retainers of the three academies spoke as one. In other times, they might have dismissed it as youthful folly. But not now.
A seventeen-year-old who had reached the 5th Circle. A peerless genius who had slain an Executioner single-handedly. Impossible.
Yet everyone here had witnessed it. They had all seen the miracle wrought by the boy who still bore the traces of youth.
The count's silence on the tournament's decisions stemmed from valuing harmony among the academies over setting a precedent for the top floor. But circumstances had shifted.
What if that brilliantly shining raw gem entered the Sage's Tower's top floor? What if the count claimed him wholly?
Nobles from foreign lands in the premium seats murmured.
"This... things are getting interesting."
"Wishing for the Sage's Tower's top floor access, of all things."
"Isn't that too much? No precedent, after all."
"No, it's not even worth debating. You don't know the count at all."
"What do you mean?"
"At seventeen, that level of power. Not just magic—he's mastered the sword too. If he takes him in, he'll forge a blade sharper than any. The elders' backlash? A passing breeze."
"True. No future champion would dare wish the same. Who could claim they'd face an Executioner alone?"
The arena buzzed with whispers from premium seats to common stands alike. All eyes turned to the count.
The final decision rested with him.
And slowly, his mouth opened.
"Enough."
A quiet voice, yet it carried to every corner. The arena fell deathly silent in an instant.
He addressed Licht.
"I know your merit is immeasurable. Without you, countless people would have died. Everyone here owes you a debt."
"Your Excellency...!"
"Permission to the Sage's Tower's top floor is granted. May your path ahead be filled with light."
A calm yet shocking declaration.
The elders gaped, mouths opening and closing. Schult grinned ear to ear.
Licht bowed deeply.
"My deepest thanks for your boundless mercy, Count."
***
"Did you see their faces? Priceless. I nearly died holding back laughter. Kekeke."
The next day, Licht sat on the sofa in Schult's office. Schult handed him a cup of personally brewed tea—the same kind from their first meeting.
Licht sipped lightly and nodded inwardly.
Still the same.
Tasteless as ever. Compared to Sebrik's, it was roadside mud water. The leaves weren't bad—far superior to those at home, even. But he didn't show it.
Schult, seated opposite, spoke.
"It'll take time to arrange top floor access."
"Due to the elders' opposition?"
"We'll hold another tournament council soon. Don't worry—they won't renege. The count's word is final. Just some grumbling to endure."
Licht was an outsider. Schult's recommendation changed nothing.
Yet the count granted it for one reason: He would take Licht under his wing directly. No longer an outsider, the issue resolved itself.
For El Sion's prosperity, the elders couldn't argue. Licht's talent was proven beyond prior gems—worth breaking precedent.
They knew it best.
But Licht had no intention of serving under anyone. Never had, even in his past life.
"Oh, and don't imagine the top floor as some library stacked with books or artifacts. If that's your picture, shatter it."
The elders opposed champions entering not just for self-interest. It was truly dangerous.
Schult sipped his tea.
Licht, pondering, asked.
"Dangerous?"
"Another space entirely. A trial, perhaps. Hard to pin down—one word doesn't fit. Everyone sees something different."
Schult explained: The Sage's Tower linked to a realm detached from the present world. Each entrant beheld unique vistas. Some a lush jungle, others a barren snowfield devoid of life, or an endless sand sea without a drop of water.
And what Schult saw differed from all.
"I saw the cosmos."
"......"
"No joke. Stepping in, I floated amid an ocean of stars filling every direction."
Schult's eyes burned with utter sincerity.
"No idea how long. I just stood there, dazed. Then enlightenment struck—a faint fragment of the universe's truths."
Recalling it, his gaze deepened.
"When I wove my seventh ring, I was out. Right before entering."
"How long?"
"No clue. An eternity, perhaps."
Clink.
Schult set down his cup. Silence blanketed the office.
Grinning to shift the mood, he spoke first.
"Anyway, what about the Execution Sword? Not with you, so left at home?"
As Schult said, only the Ascension Sword lay on Licht's lap, golden sheath and hilt faintly visible beneath white cloth. The prior spatial artifact was one-use only.
"Still deciding," Licht replied.
"As I said before, hand it over clean. The count handles this surely. Generous rewards."
Schult grew serious.
"And you're too conspicuous now. The Palenian Pope might already have his eye on you. Can't help with that—only the count could."
Licht glanced at his teacup at Schult's words.
Twelve Executioners.
He'd agonized all night. What next?
He'd learned too much from this unintended tangle. Plus, slaying an Executioner solo at seventeen.
Not El Sion's. No house backing him.
Palenia saw no reason to let him live. They'd pursue with the Execution Sword's recovery.
I can flee. But...
Sebrik and Lena?
One Executioner: Winnable. Two: Tough, but survivable. Three or more? Slim odds, even staking his life. And that excluded the 1st Seat, Abel's equal—stronger than most Swordmasters.
Licht needed six rings to match. Not yet.
How long?
Time was key. Even a momentary shield.
"Best would be joining as the count's retainer..."
Schult shook his head, eyeing Licht.
"But no interest, eh? Figures—you turned down my offer."
"I'll meet him myself."
"Soon. He's eager. If not as retainer, perhaps..."
"......?"
"His daughter. Firmest bond."
"Daughter?"
"What thicker than blood?"
The rose-gold-haired girl glued to Schult before. Licht frowned instinctively.
"Sending a child who can't discern right from wrong to a nameless man?"
"Nameless? Everyone in El Sion knows you now."
"Not joking."
"Neither am I. How many girls that age sold into political marriages? Ten years' gap is ideal—twenty's common."
She seemed keen on you. Schult chuckled, shoving aside his empty cup.
"Still no trace of the missing mages."
"Full probe post-Cherbito. Results soon."
"If not found?"
"Likely dragged to the Holy Kingdom. Survival? Unknown."
Three-digit vanishings. Few knew—low- to mid-tier 3rd Circle mages from outer districts. A single direct disciple from the core academies would have sparked uproar.
"El Sion's just human. Imperfect."
"......"
"Don't dwell. You did your best. Trust the count—far abler than you think."
How many families shattered? Mages whose heads burst restoring the arena?
Futile thoughts. Past was past.
Licht drained the last sip and rose.
"Leaving?"
"Prior engagement."
"Your attendant? Cherish her."
"Family."
"Family... Right. Lord's castle banquet soon—mark it. You'll attend."
"Banquet?"
"Post-Cherbito tradition. Foreign nobles, envoys aplenty—time to mingle."
"Wrong timing."
"Precisely why. Greatest Cherbito ever. Palenian ex-Executioner intrusion. Outsider boy fells him, averting massacre."
Schult smirked.
"Hero? You. Expect grander than usual. Public claim: Mine. No funny business. Sly fox, that count."
Divert eyes from the incident, force you under him. Perfect ploy.
Licht drew a bundle from his bosom.
"Hm? What's this?"
"The 100 gold from before. Repaid."
"Not loaned expecting return."
"Don't like debts."
"Tch. Busted?"
From the 500-gold prize. Business done, Licht turned.
A white glow soon engulfed him. Moments later, the magic circle stood empty.
***
Evening streets glowed under sunset. The shopping district near Heyna Academy bustled.
Hagglers, families heading home.
Peaceful.
Too much so, almost guilt-inducing. Market-goers aplenty.
Licht among them. But stares followed everywhere—face uncovered, naturally.
"Young master. More eyes than usual..."
"Winner's due. We'll adjust."
"Mm, mm! True!"
Lena bobbed enthusiastically.
They stopped at a vegetable stall. The vendor, feigning reluctance to a haggler, lit up at Lena.
"Oho, little miss! Shopping again?"
"Yes! Uncle Jensen, unchanged as ever."
"Always the same. Haven't seen the butler in ages. And... huh?"
His eyes locked on Licht, widening.
"Licht Sientia?"
"You know young master?"
"Who doesn't? Dragged my son to the finals. Never dreamed you were his lord."
Stares converged. Ignoring them, the man approached, hand out.
"Handshake? First time meeting Cherbito's champ up close."
"Sure."
Licht extended his. The jovial man pumped it vigorously—odd feeling.
"Haha! Lucky day. Son'll die of envy."
"......"
"Oh, secret... Bet big on you behind wife's back. Ate well thanks to—"
"No!"
Lena shrieked as he whispered.
"Eh?"
"Hiding money's wrong! I'll tell auntie!"
"Miss, it's my money..."
Pfft.
A soft chuckle. Both turned. Licht smiled—genuine, not feigned.
"Y-Young master... You laughed, right?"
"No."
"You did!"
"Didn't."
"You did. Saw it."
The man's gaze swept Licht's faint smile.
"Suits you better. Good mood—extra service today."
"Still telling auntie."
"......"
Lena and the man bickered, yet haggled sharply—sharp as tacks.
Sebrik watched.
"Fine city."
"Aye."
"You've changed much, young master."
"...Yeah."
No denial. Sebrik looked surprised—unexpected.
"Everyone does."
"Indeed changed."
"Bad?"
"No."
"Done!"
Lena hefted the basket triumphantly.
"Fits perfectly."
Sebrik smiled faintly—sincere, after 17 years together.
***
As dusk fell, Licht finished shopping. Vegetables, butcher, fruits, clothes.
Lena greeted brightly everywhere; owners responded warmly, familiarly.
Licht saw her true self at last. Ever-positive girl. Hidden in the isolated annex.
Her sociable nature soothed hearts. Joyful yet bittersweet sight.
Past life memories stirred guilt. Without him, she'd have lived carefree, laughing.
No.
He shoved it down. Focus on better future, not past chains. Plan ahead, not regret.
Thus thinking, he neared home.
"Young Master Licht. We've been waiting."
Licht's eyes chilled. Low mid-aged voice.
Two mages, one knight before the empty house—Frederiksen crest on chests.
"Wha...?"
"What..."
Lena and Sebrik gawked, alternating glances.
The center man stepped forward politely, bowing.
"Forgive the late hour. Wanted earlier, but you weren't home."
He offered a letter, sealed with the count's wax.
Full background check done.
No surprise—expected. "Young Master Licht"—useless without digging.
Know about the Ascension Sword too?
Arhen's Barbalte duchy? Unknowable. Likely knew his secret auction bid, receiving it from the Golden King. Witnesses galore—Bryce's beheading.
The mages' glances at his waist confirmed. Faint golden gleam through cloth.
The count knew all: past, present, even Lily.
"He said reply at your leisure."
Three choices: Serve for protection; flee with Sebrik, Lena; or leave them, go solo.
Not hopeless.
Thirteen—now twelve—Executioners on pope's secret missions. Rare all gathered. Secreta handled usual guard. At most two pursuers.
Something from the Tower makes it possible.
Not aiming 6th Circle yet—bodily issue, time solves. Key: Gain unknown knowledge.
No—even if nothing, fine.
Feasible.
Wander continent, buy time. Crush pursuers piecemeal. End when sixth ring forms.
"No need."
"......?"
Licht returned the letter. The man blinked, puzzled.
"I'll visit soon."
Decided. If pope truly hunts him...
"Tell him that."
He'd leave El Sion alone, slay all twelve Executioners.
And deal with the count as equal, not subordinate.