Sorry.
"Sorry."
A single apology echoed through the cramped carriage.
He couldn't recall exactly what had happened after he lost consciousness, but judging from the situation, it was clear he'd caused trouble for everyone.
"For what?"
"Like I said, I couldn't deliver and ended up causing unnecessary damage."
Not just to Almond, but to the scholars and other students too. They'd been attacked, sure, but that didn't change the fact that he'd wasted their time. A firm promise should have accounted for all variables from the start.
"You worked your ass off. You'll get a deduction when we get back to school."
"Understood."
"...You're no fun."
Almond clicked her tongue and turned her gaze out the window. The twilight sky had a way of stirring up sentiment.
"It ended on your terms. All I did was carry you out."
"My terms?"
"Necromancy."
Almond nodded toward Maness's arm without taking her eyes off the scenery. There, safely wrapped around it, was the relic they'd earned through all that hardship.
"Remember?"
He did. Not everything, but enough.
At the very least, the voice right before his consciousness sank was etched clearly in his mind.
"An Eastern warrior, huh."
The hazy image of mana coalescing. Sparks and vibrations from the blade. Those vague memories were plenty to piece together what had happened.
"You could say Zentina saved your life."
"Yeah."
"And..."
A brief pause hung between them as their eyes met.
"You, who chose necromancy. You, who soothed that ghost's soul. That's what saved you."
Was she trying to give an awkward compliment? Maness chuckled inwardly at the unexpected words.
The world was full of surprises.
Like puzzle pieces slotting perfectly into place. His accumulated past had led him here, keeping him alive.
"Since I got help, it wasn't really my own power."
"That's pretty rude to say."
Almond casually picked at her ear, unimpressed by her student's humility.
"In necromancy, it's all about skill—whether you can connect with a soul, whether you can fully control it."
She had a point. If even that was dismissed as something beyond skill, then necromancers wouldn't need any effort at all.
Despite the ego boost from her kind words, Maness kept his humility, glancing at the Soul's Footsteps.
Without this relic, necromancy would've been a pipe dream. He could only be grateful for the artifact that smoothed spiritual interactions.
With his mind settled, Maness pulled a ring from his pocket—the one he'd tucked away before the final battle with the soul wolf—and slipped it onto his index finger. It was the spot where the accessory Almond had given him had been.
"That's from Metaph, right?"
A ring imbued with a curse to suppress mana. As a grant magic professor, Almond recognized it instantly. Back during the golem lesson, ages ago.
"He said it'd help control my mana."
"Now that you have a staff, you probably don't need it anymore."
Maness's shoulders twitched at the mention of the staff.
"...You saw everything?"
"Think I'd just sit on my hands while my students went off to hunt a magical beast, no matter how irresponsible I am?"
Beyond just watching—she'd prepared countermeasures from every angle. The accessories she'd handed out before they left were priceless, laden with all sorts of spells.
"But earlier you said I handled it alone..."
"Jeez, you gonna nitpick like that ghost? As long as I help before you die, it's fine."
Was it? Maness's Snowrobe-drilled brain nearly bought it for a second.
"Don't worry about it. I won't grill you on the staff."
Where he'd gotten it. What weird powers it had.
Almond wasn't the type to pry into personal matters. Come to think of it, all the professors connected to Maness were like that—Metaph, Hiteri, Zentina, and so on. In a world of nosy mages, running into only this kind was sheer luck.
Well, Zentina might've grilled him. He pictured her excited, innocent curiosity.
"When I came to pick you up, the staff vanished without a trace. An item with its own will? Even high-level grant magic struggles with that."
Almond's attention shifted back to the bracelet.
"It collects all sorts of things, huh."
"...Haha."
Grateful it didn't go further than that, Maness brushed off a laugh.
"Anyway, I'll keep wearing the ring. Can't exactly walk around school with a staff."
"The best thing would be for you to stably handle all your mana."
Was that even possible? He nodded along without voicing his doubts.
"I'll work on it."
"Thanks to that great Professor Metaph, you've got your chance now, right?"
Almond jerked her chin toward the window. In the distance, an imposing structure came into view—a place of advanced civilization welcoming young prodigies.
"We're at the Magic Tower, so grab what you can."
Magic Tower.
The holy site for the world's top mages.
*
"Hey! You okay?!"
Boltman came rushing over in a fuss as soon as they stepped out of the carriage. And why not? His friend had been ambushed by half a mage squad.
"As you can see."
"Tch, those sneaky bastards! Ambushing when I wasn't around!"
You being there would've been perfect for fixing that personality of yours. Maness knew better than to say it.
Especially with the second- and fourth-year prodigies who'd ridden with them. Thinking of spending time with those ice-cold types made him feel sorry instead.
"How was it? Thrilling?"
Abel, the third-year, clapped him on the shoulder with a booming laugh.
"...Don't even joke about that."
"Joke? No way. I snuck out once and got nabbed by them—still haven't forgotten the thrill!"
"Th-that's amazing, senpai!"
His head was starting to throb. Any more chat with these two, and he'd prefer the near-death experience. Maness swiftly changed the subject.
"Anyway, what a sight."
He craned his neck to take in the endlessly towering Magic Tower. The cyan structure, bathed in sunset, shimmered in multiple hues, flaunting its majesty. Towering spires and buildings surrounded it, while floating sculptures zipped through the air, showcasing magic's wonders.
"Whoa..."
Beyond Boltman, mouth agape in awe, Maness spotted someone lost in admiration.
The second-year prodigy. Unlike her seniors, on her first visit to the tower, her eyes brimmed with longing as she drank it in.
But it was fleeting—her eyes blinked, swallowing the emotion.
Did I imagine it? Bemused, Maness herded his dazed friend and rejoined the group.
"Three scholars, one guardian professor. And students..."
The mage at the grand gate counted them on his fingers.
"Total of four. Reporting to upper management will take a bit—please wait."
"Hasn't it already been reported?"
"A Magic Tower member visiting Snowrobe was ambushed. We haven't received any info on school personnel because of that."
The two first-years were impressed by how the mage bowed politely to Almond. Hardly the treatment for someone who napped in dirt pits daily.
No matter her eccentric ways, her high-rank mage status shone through.
"Ah, word just came in. Could the professor show her face?"
Almond peered into the magical communicator handed over, and a voice from the other end spoke. Too far to catch details, but it sounded personal.
After a quick back-and-forth, the mage took it back with a bright smile, welcoming the guests.
"Welcome to the Magic Tower, mages' holy site."
The massive magic circle blocking the gate dissolved in a shimmer, revealing the hidden street beyond.
Mages knew no day or night—or so they said. Cruelly fitting, the street teemed with robed figures. Straight lines and arches harmonized in a space where you could almost feel the sanded-smooth walls by sight alone.
"Don't lag—follow close. Lots of outsiders mix in here."
"Where to?"
"An elder's coming to greet us."
The fourth-year's face darkened at "elder." Even Snowrobe's top mage tensed at that lofty figure.
That was a Magic Tower elder.
—Come on, cut me a deal.
—You forget you owe me from last research?
Fierce haggling.
—Heard Elder Merhen's lecture?
—Dude, I'm swamped with my own research—why would I?
—Oh, and next class, they're inviting some VIP.
Gossip on tower happenings.
—Damn. Barely graduated that hellhole, and this is worse.
—Unnamed mages here are basically slaves...
Life gripes too.
Savoring the dense mage scenery, they arrived at a garden before the tallest tower.
"Here, this way."
Parting from the scholars and leading just the students, a voice called out in the garden.
The students witnessed something shocking.
"Aigoo, Elder. Long time no see."
Almond's face bloomed into a smile!
"You should visit more often."
"Professor duties keep me swamped."
A mage with sparse white hair amid thick light-brown locks, beard sweeping down to his solar plexus, gestured for Almond to sit opposite.
"Allow us to greet you first."
Ever the same with students, Almond prompted the five prodigies to bow hastily.
Maness sneaked a sidelong study of the elder.
Merhen, master of fire and water. Matching his mental image, the mage offered a kindly smile.
"Yes, yes. I should be the one greeting you young mages who'll shape the future—this is all backward."
"N-no, Elder! How could we..."
This time, the fuss came from the fourth-year, his face alight with unprecedented joy and awe.
"This kid can't take a joke."
The elder's hearty laugh had the fourth-year ducking sheepishly.
A young mage, overflowing with joy at meeting his idol. A heartwarming sight.
"Loen."
With greetings done, Almond called the fourth-year.
"Yes, Professor."
"You've been here before—you know where the guest rooms are. Someone'll guide you."
"And you?"
"Gonna chat with the elder. Go rest."
Loen bowed to the two great mages and turned, signaling the students. His tension vanished into haughty poise—mages sure switched gears fast.
"You there, kid."
Merhen stopped the departing students, calling the one at the end.
"...Me?"
Confirming, Maness caught Almond's sharp glare and hurried to join.
"Necktie says first-year."
"Yes, Elder."
Merhen eyed Maness thoroughly and beckoned lightly. Then, the treasure from his pocket emerged.
The familiar's egg. From the Magic Tower's Library of Memories, no less.
"Where'd you get this?"
Like Loen before, tension crept onto Maness's face.