12. Mosaz Cartel (5)
From the first floor to the ninth, the runes etched throughout meshed like interlocking gears, spinning everything into collapse.
As the tower of greed he'd piled up over years sank into ruin, Dross van Artania stared down at his trembling hands.
Unsightly hands marred by age spots and bulging veins. The youth and ambition from his Imperial Mage Tower days had long fled, leaving only greed and the dregs of a wretched life in this middle-aged man's grasp.
Witch.
Ironically, it was the witch who'd cornered him who snapped him back to his senses.
A passion for magic, pure curiosity. Overwhelming precision, efficient mana flow, spell structures refined to crystalline perfection... Her talent transcended the legendary—it might etch a new stroke in the annals of magic history.
Watching her, Dross glimpsed the pure mage he'd lost long ago.
Only now, on the brink of losing everything, as his stale desires crumbled, did his blinded eyes finally open.
"…"
What is magic?
Why had he walked the mage's path, and what had he truly sought at its end?
Not some shallow craving to loom lofty over others—what ultimate value had he yearned to achieve?
"…"
Clang—
A nearby window, caught in the blast, cracked and shattered.
As thick shards scattered before him, Dross caught his reflection—not the withered old face, but himself decades ago, young again.
Back when he was an apprentice in the Red Tower, unearthing the mysteries and truths of magic alongside his master. Faint memories flooded back.
"Dross, my disciple. What do you think magic is?"
"…An endless discipline of self-refinement through trials, to ascend ever higher? Ultimately, to leap to the celestial realms overlooking countless planets and lower worlds, and beyond that, to the fixed stars…"
"Hah… No! That's not it, you foolish disciple! Magic isn't some tool for chasing petty worldly gains. Modern mages are all rotten to the core—you're no different. But listen well, dullard."
"…Understood."
"Do you know the mystery rune 'Empty'? Well, magic is—"
The hazy memory of his master scolding and teaching him.
Though twisted desires had gotten him excommunicated from the tower and onto a criminal path, in this moment, Dross felt transported back to that time.
'…Ahh.'
Magic is the path of proof and inquiry. A grand design for humanity, crafted to escape mortal birth's entanglements of delusion and suffering.
'Why did I forget my master's words? What the hell was I doing here?'
Crash—!
In that instant, his foggy mind cleared, and Dross understood.
Why, amid fierce battle, he seemed returned to the old tower.
He sensed a symbol budding within his inner self.
Yes.
He had ascended to the 2nd Rank mage realm he'd twisted his body a lifetime to reach but never could.
A mage's power and authority explode with each rank climbed—a evolution beyond the prior tier.
But the cost is brutal: the ordeal to advance is hellish.
To leap from 1st Rank Sovereign Realm to 2nd Rank Heart Realm, one must erect a unique inner realm symbol. 2nd Rank mages process terrifying info volumes, so the Heart Realm acts as a transformer and limiter in the mental world.
Dross realized this [Some Tower] was his Heart Realm.
■■. ■■■■ ■■■ ■■■
The mind takes on a distinct form.
That is the essence of the Heart Realm.
"…"
Dross approached his master in the tower's lab, gazing out at the garden.
[Foolish disciple. Finally realized it, eh?]
"Yes. All this time, I've been a goddamn idiot moron. Master… I forgot your teachings. I'm sorry. I sullied your name in my fall… I'm trash."
[Born a noble, yet spewing such filth. You're still pathetic.]
Yet his master's face beamed impossibly bright, lips curled in a grin.
[Still, you awoke. That's something. Congratulations, truly.]
"…Thank you."
[Now then… show me one final dance. I'm watching.]
Dross let out a hollow chuckle.
To reach the pinnacle he'd craved only at the very end.
But now, even death held no regrets.
"…Witch."
The room blazed like a volcano's crater.
Back in reality, Dross addressed the witch before him.
"I am Dross van Artania, pyromancer of the Red Tower. My magic shall shine brighter than ever."
His self-introduction, reclaiming his essence as a true mage in his final moments.
Sensing the change, the witch replied in a solemn tone.
"I am the nameless one. Owner of a grimoire that can never return home, and witch. Dross of the Red Tower—let's end this here."
"…Thank you, witch. Thanks to you, I leave with dignity."
"Come."
Explosive flames erupted from Dross's body—a force rivaling the colossal magic circle consuming the building.
In the collapsing apex of Mosaz Tower, two mages clashed.
Dross lost.
Inevitable. Though he'd leaped to 2nd Rank, he had no time to consolidate his insight.
Against a genius mage fueling a mega-circle with the entire building as sacrifice, he stood no chance.
Whoosh—!
A massive flash devoured his vision.
"Ha, haha…"
But Dross harbored no regrets. Reclaiming his mage’s original resolve beat lingering on as a sleazy crime lord any day—a worthy end.
"One last thing…"
Bloodied amid the rubble, Dross fumbled out his communicator.
One final report before death.
Management Bureau.
The organization handling dimensional rifts worldwide and the aberrations spilling from them.
Dross was a 17th District crime lord and a lowly watcher under Bureau orders.
A lingering question: Why had a mage of that caliber tumbled into the slums? Her talent's source? Wielding a high-grade artifact grimoire so freely screamed suspicion.
In his final scan with 2nd Rank eyes, he pieced it together.
…The uproar over Ether Bio Pharma's downfall. An aberration event with no culprit, just rumors.
Slotting in the witch made every puzzle piece fit.
"The Outer Sea… surely connected somehow…"
Squeezing his last mana, Dross operated the device.
Soon, Executors and Enforcers would investigate.
"May your path… be filled with purgatory's flames."
A salute to his destroyer.
Then Dross's body burned away with the debris.
【Illusion】 | Completion Materials
[Shattered mirror shard, discarded by someone] 1/1
All materials fulfilled.
【Illusion】 magic synthesis now possible.
Having felled Dross van Artania, Mosaz Cartel's boss, I'd finally gathered all materials for Illusion magic.
Shards from the shattered window scattered perfectly near his corpse.
I knew instinctively they were the key—and sure enough, spot on.
"Nice."
Now magical disguise was possible. External ops could get bolder.
Rumble rumble rumble!!
The building crumbled relentlessly.
I leaped through the broken full-wall window before getting caught.
Thud—
Freefall.
The world's panorama filled my view.
That bizarre boundary line still scarred the sky.
Like fractured glass refracting light, an alien vertical cut stretching to the horizon.
Below, F Block crammed with illegal add-ons.
Landing flat there? Witch pancake city.
I incanted.
"Breeze"
⟨ Wind Cutter Variant ⟩
Whoooosh—
Gentle winds enveloped me, nullifying the fall impact.
Thud!
Hero landing achieved, I glanced back at Mosaz Tower.
Roooar…
Flames everywhere, thick black smoke billowing.
Occasional ground-shaking blasts made it sway perilously.
As I stared blankly like some fire-watcher,
KABOOM——!!!
Soon enough, it exploded hollywood-blockbuster-style and collapsed entirely.
Rumble rumble…
"Whoa."
Clap, clap, clap!
"What a sight!"
A sudden applause and cheer.
"Huh…?"
Husky woman's voice. Acrid cig smoke wafted in.
Glancing back, a woman with a massive sniper rifle slung over her back and goofy goggles stood there, grinning.
"You're that witch who took down the sewer monster, right? Heard rumors, but that was just the trailer?"
Her excited voice bubbled as she hugged me from behind.
"Waaah… Wanted to meet you so bad! But damn, solo-raiding their base and capping with an explosion? My eye for talent's spot on."
"…"
What the—acting all buddy-buddy? I awkwardly shrugged off her arms.
"…Isn't this sexual harassment?"
"Huh?"
She peered down, smirking.
"Puhahaha! Nah, not trying anything weird—just you're my type."
We eyed each other.
"…Who are you?"
"Barrett. Run a gun shop in F Block. Not just guns—knives, bombs, memo'd magic gear too. Some illegal stuff, sure. But in this dump, who's not shady?"
She offered a hand.
No hostility, no backstab vibe, so I shook reluctantly.
"Sweet. Promo pitch work? Was scared you'd blast me mid-hug. But c'mon, so pretty and cute—how could I resist? Sorry if it bugged you."
"…You came to advertise?"
"Owner pitching in person beats flyers any day—ten times the impact. Slipped on one once, hate 'em. Plus, you cleared those pest org thugs who always hassled my shop. Gotta say hi in person, right?"
"…"
My ears already hurt.
"Swing by my hideout if interested. You've got the chops for my [masterpieces]. Could help with other stuff too."
Wait—sounds plugged into the underworld. Maybe she can fix my issues?
"…Can you handle ID or bank docs… paperwork?"
Barrett tilted her head.
"Huh? Why? Yeah, doable. Complicated, but."
"Oh."
Tempting.