Chapter 58: In Mirabelle's Case (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 58: In Mirabelle's Case (2)
“The Magic Tower Master?”
The Master of the Magic Tower.
The lord of the mages’ spire.
No further explanation was necessary. The title alone was enough to convey the magnitude of such a being.
Not a mere administrator of the tower, but the symbolic apex of the entire world of magic.
“That’s right. The Magic Tower Master! I knew it the moment I saw that. Child, you are a being dimensions above others. You can do it!”
Edmund’s expression was like that of a believer who had just witnessed their god, but Mirabelle’s reaction was lukewarm.
“I’m not really interested.”
“Child, you’re still too young to understand. This is the Magic Tower Master we’re talking about. You would become the pinnacle of all mages.”
Mirabelle pondered for a moment.
The Magic Tower Master? She still had no interest in such things. Her top priority was finding Karami.
But what would change even if they were reunited? She had disappointed him, failed to have her worth acknowledged. If they met again with nothing changed, he would only be disappointed once more.
And then, there would be no more chances.
She didn't want to be abandoned.
She had to raise her value before they met again.
“If I become the Magic Tower Master, will my value increase?”
“Value? Only fools would debate the value of the Magic Tower Master. Every mage in the world will look up to you.”
The Magic Tower Master.
Yes, she had to at least become the Magic Tower Master to be able to go anywhere and proudly declare herself Karami’s slave.
And Harold’s dream, the Miracle. A world where witches didn't have to live in hiding. If she became the Magic Tower Master, she might be able to create the world her family had wished for.
“I’ll do it. I’ll become the Magic Tower Master.”
Resolve solidified in Mirabelle’s eyes.
*
“…Therefore, I, Edmund Alexius Wilmore, hereby recommend this child for the position of Magic Tower Master.”
It was the first Council of Elders meeting in ten years.
The five elders and the candidate, Mirabelle, were gathered in the council chamber.
The elders sat around a round table. The seat of honor, the Magic Tower Master’s chair, was naturally vacant.
To be precise, it had been vacant ever since the first Master—who discovered the mysterious structure when it first appeared in the world—had passed away.
Becoming the Magic Tower Master wasn't something one could achieve just by wanting it.
The process was based on recommendations, and a candidate could only ascend to the position with the unanimous consent of all five elders.
In other words, a new Magic Tower Master had never once been chosen.
The reasons were surprisingly trivial.
Refusing to place someone weaker than oneself in a position of authority was one of the more reasonable objections.
He seems boring.
Too old.
Too ugly.
I don’t like bald people.
The list went on.
Due to all sorts of nitpicking, a Master hadn't been chosen for hundreds of years. It didn't particularly matter, as the elders could simply divide the tower’s major and minor affairs among themselves.
Thus, under a long-standing tacit agreement, a tense balance had been maintained among the five elders. Even with Mirabelle’s newfound determination, it was uncertain whether she could actually become the Master.
“The Magic Tower Master… Right, that was a thing.”
The one who spoke was Daenor.
A dark high elf elder who had been managing the tower since the time of the first Master.
The Magic Tower did not discriminate based on race, gender, age, or anything else. It was a pure meritocracy. Any outstanding mage was qualified to become one of its own.
The fact that Mirabelle was a young girl was no obstacle. If anything, her immense potential for growth was a bonus.
“I knew it! You were the one who shook the tower recently!”
A boy shot up from his seat, making a fuss. Every time he moved, the black wings on his back fluttered.
The troublemaker of the Magic Tower.
Zakaril Vermor.
A demon born in the demon realm, located on the opposite side of the continent.
Though he appeared to be around Mirabelle’s age, his soul had in truth weathered near-immortal eons.
Zakaril had come to the tower intending to destroy it for fun, and for fun, he had become one of its elders. To his eyes, Mirabelle was a new toy that had just rolled in.
The corners of Zakaril’s eyes curved with mischief.
“You’re strong, right? How strong? Come on, play with me!”
It happened in an instant.
The entire area was plunged into darkness.
The scene resembled a black sea, its dark waters churning ominously.
With a sharp shhwick, a school of sharks materialized from within the sea.
They seemed to have substance, yet they shimmered like mist.
For a moment, they circled Mirabelle as if they had caught the scent of blood, eyeing their prey.
Then, they tore through the black sea, charging ferociously, their sharp teeth glinting.
Swoosh.
But the sharks’ teeth never reached Mirabelle.
An indigo reaper appeared out of thin air and swung its scythe, cleaving the bodies of the incorporeal sharks in two.
“Ooh!”
She tapped her staff twice.
Gentle ripples spread out, calming the raging waves.
The sharks that had been rising from beneath Mirabelle’s feet slammed into the surface with a thud, as if hitting an invisible barrier.
The black sea grew calm.
A ceasefire.
Zakaril hopped up and down, clapping gleefully.
“Wow! You’re the first one to ever stop my prank! Everyone else just flailed around and got eaten before they could even cast a spell.”
“It wasn’t that impressive.”
“Haha! That’s the first time I’ve heard that, too. You’re really fun! I feel like exciting things will happen if you’re around. Okay, I’m in!”
She had passed the troublemaker’s first test.
Edmund let out a small breath and glanced at the other elders.
“What do the rest of you think?”
“She’s just a human. A fragile being who will soon be swept away by the vast river of time. If need be, we can just pick a new one in a hundred years. I don’t mind.”
“Karsis, what about you?”
Karsis flicked her long, serpentine tongue with a shaaa sound. Then, with a wriggle of her snake-like body, she returned to her laboratory.
It was her way of saying, do whatever you want.
Including Edmund, four of the elders had agreed. Naturally, all eyes turned to the final member.
The recommendation for the Magic Tower Master was divided into two major trials.
The first was to play along with Zakaril. Most who came dreaming of the position died, unable to withstand his pranks.
If one passed that, getting the other elders’ approval wasn't difficult. Their attitude was generally one of indifference.
And yet, no new Master had ever emerged.
The reason was the final trial.
“Hooo…”
A woman with a large, wide-brimmed conical hat.
A dress that clung to her skin, boldly revealing her voluptuous figure.
She held a long, thin pipe between her lips.
The final elder.
Morgana Sheriseine.
She was the elder who had thwarted every candidate by finding fault with their appearance. No matter how skilled they were, this was a hurdle they could not overcome.
Morgana took the pipe from her lips and exhaled a long stream of smoke. The mana-infused smoke billowed up in clouds.
Just as the smoke began to dissipate near the ceiling, she spoke.
“Pass.”
“Hm? A-Are you serious?”
“Yep. She’s cute. An adorable child is always welcome. It’ll be nice to have some life in this dreary old tower for a change. Besides.”
From under her conical hat, Morgana’s narrowed eyes fell upon Mirabelle. Her gaze was a mixture of emotions, like paints on a palette.
“As an adult, it’s my duty to look after a young witch.”
Morgana gave a playful wink.
Edmund sighed.
It was a sigh less of relief and more of exasperation.
To think that the main qualification for the Magic Tower Master was appearance.
Regardless, whatever their reasons, the fact remained that all five elders had given their consent.
It was the moment a new master was born in the Magic Tower.
But she was a slave.
*
Even with the arrival of a new Master, there were no dramatic changes within the Magic Tower.
After all, mages cared more about their own magical research than the goings-on of the world. They remained holed up in their laboratories like cockroaches.
Mirabelle was much the same.
She was currently in the very center of the Magic Tower, lying supine in mid-air, engrossed in a book. Hundreds of magic tomes circled around her at a constant speed, like the rings of Saturn.
Each and every volume was a treasure far greater than Teacher Go’s Pro Tips Grimoire. As the Magic Tower Master, Mirabelle had the right to read them all.
She would speed-read a book in an instant, toss it aside, and a new one would fly into her hand in an endless cycle.
To others, it might have looked like she was doing nothing, but Mirabelle was steadily mastering magic. She was becoming something transcendent, beyond a mere witch.
No one could have possibly imagined that she was doing all this not to seize the world, but merely to catch the eye of her master.
Shwoong.
Within the bunker of books Mirabelle had created, space distorted, and the Reaper appeared.
“You’re here.”
The Reaper nodded.
After becoming the Magic Tower Master, Mirabelle had temporarily stopped chasing after Karami.
She was the Master, but she was still inexperienced.
She would meet him after she had further honed her magic.
However, she had no intention of waiting idly and had been secretly planning something.
Using the minuscule amount of Karami’s mana she originally possessed, she had reverse-tracked it and finally succeeded in locating him.
Karami was currently in Vestia, the beastkin nation.
And as expected, he was surrounded by slaves.
Mirabelle was incredibly envious of those by Karami’s side, but she held herself back. It wasn't time yet.
Instead, she allowed herself a small indulgence. Using the Reaper, she severed the shackles bound to their souls. Her goal was the traces of Karami’s mana imbued in those shackles.
She didn't care that they were no longer Karami’s slaves.
Her own needs were more urgent.
Mirabelle checked the mana the Reaper had collected. It was a plain, black mana, but to her eyes, it looked more precious than anything in the world.
When she had severed their shackles, a surge of jealousy had risen within her—Why do you get to wear Master’s shackles?—but not anymore.
Mirabelle gathered Karami’s mana into one.
She let it flow into her soul.
She molded the mana.
Into the shape of shackles.
In Mirabelle’s mind’s eye, a pair of black shackles took form.
With her own hands, Mirabelle fastened the shackles onto her own soul.
Click.
It was as if she could hear the sound.
Having succeeded in painstakingly fastening the shackles, Mirabelle’s expression melted. A jolt of ecstasy made her body tremble, and a long sigh escaped her lips. “Haaaah…”
“This is it…”
The sensation of her soul being bound, of her entire being becoming the undeniable property of her master.
This pressure.
This sense of security.
It was, as she expected, the most wonderful feeling.
She hadn't been able to sleep properly since parting with Karami, but she felt she would be able to sleep soundly tonight.
Since it’s been a while, I’ll dream about playing with Master.
Hugging him tightly.
Eating slime fritters.
Casting a simple spell on herself, Mirabelle hugged her staff tightly and closed her eyes.