Chapter 76
Chapter 76
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 76
Chapter Title: Magic Tower Genius Hides Physics
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Mansujeol was the Empire's grandest festival, spanning three full days including the eve of the celebration.
Yet behind its splendor, the nobles waged an invisible war.
Who spoke to whom, whose attire shone brighter, even who arrived at the banquet hall first.
Every detail served as a gauge of rank.
Yesterday's eve had been mere skirmishing, but the man dominating noble gossip today was undoubtedly him.
Isaac Uphills.
At the breakfast table, a court noble remarked.
"I told you in my letter, didn't I? He's the real deal."
The provincial lord scratched his head in response.
Capital nobles knew Isaac well enough, but those from the provinces did not.
This lord had tested Isaac himself to verify the rumors.
"He seemed like a magic-obsessed adderman. Did you really have to grill him like a rat?"
"Hey! He even thanked me for the questions."
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. And that nonsense about Uphills fleecing the Winterheart family? Sounded like pure baloney. Such paranoia..."
"I never bought into that gossip!"
...Events like these had unfolded, but yesterday remained a probe.
The true stakes lay in the afternoon of the second day: the Oath of Loyalty.
In this rite of swearing fealty and offering tribute, the Emperor bestowed gifts upon them.
The value of tribute offered and gifts received here would define their prestige.
Occasionally, the Emperor went further, granting a petitioner's "request."
This was an immense honor, naturally.
And this year's petitioner was...
The borderline noble, recipient of the First-Class Medal, "Isaac Uphills."
At a distant table, an earl broached the topic.
"Him again?"
"Yeah..."
"Why would His Majesty choose to hear that boy's plea, of all people?"
The noble across from him smirked.
"Maybe because it's not some grand demand?"
The Isaac Uphills he'd seen last night bore no resemblance to the rumored monster.
He was just an awkward, innocent-looking mage.
No way someone like that would make a bold request.
It made sense, but not everyone agreed.
"You've been out of the magic loop for ages, so you wouldn't know, but modern magic can't be discussed without Uphills."
Anyone with even passing knowledge of magic understood Isaac's achievements.
"Hm... When was the last time a commoner mage petitioned the Emperor?"
"Dolloren's era."
"...Does that mean Uphills has archmage potential?"
"Beats me."
"..."
Silence fell over the table.
The nobles pondered Isaac Uphills's worth.
If he truly had archmage talent, they should align with him now.
But...
Recalling yesterday, hitching to that man seemed impossible.
His very face screamed it.
In the end, everything remained unclear.
Who Isaac Uphills really was.
And why His Majesty wished to hear his plea.
Details would emerge only at the Oath of Loyalty.
"Next, Richard of the Fontaine baronetcy!"
At the herald's call, those named stepped forward one by one.
They offered local specialties as tribute; the Emperor granted equivalent gifts in return.
Of course, the Emperor himself did nothing.
The Empire's sun merely sat silent on his throne, while the chamberlain and herald handled proceedings.
Nothing unusual.
For over a decade, this most honorable rite had proceeded thus.
The Oath of Loyalty neared its close.
All eyes gradually fixed on one man.
Isaac Uphills.
What would he offer, and receive?
At last, his turn arrived.
"Recipient of the First-Class Sacred Golden Lion Medal. Son of the Empire, Uphills Isaac, step forward!"
Thud. Thud.
The young mage in his robe strode toward the Emperor.
All gazes converged on him.
Some nobles glanced about in confusion.
Unlike the others, no servant bore tribute beside Isaac.
What was he planning?
Handing it over himself?
Amid questioning stares, Isaac dropped to one knee and spoke.
"I pay homage to the Empire's sun, His Imperial Majesty the Emperor."
As the herald opened his mouth for the ritual response, the Emperor quietly raised a hand.
That slight gesture sealed the herald's lips and sent him retreating.
Everyone in the audience chamber gasped.
His Majesty, silent throughout, now intervened personally.
The Emperor spoke softly.
"No attendant."
"My tribute is an object no mere servant could dare carry."
"...Speak further."
"Today, I offer Your Majesty, lord of ten thousand generations, the one thing in all the world that Your Majesty alone does not possess."
The Emperor's stoic expression cracked.
"This entire continent will soon be mine—yet something I lack? What do you mean?"
"It is this..."
Isaac produced a blue floating stone and declared.
"The heavens themselves, Your Majesty."
The Empire's sun.
Lord of ten thousand generations.
These titles all pointed to the Emperor.
Yet for the current Emperor, "Pertinax Arcanus," they rang hollow.
Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.
The Emperor sat on his throne, staring blankly ahead.
"Next, Richard of the Fontaine baronetcy!"
Nobles offered tribute and collected gifts at the herald's shouts.
The Emperor did nothing throughout.
Even without his input, everyone moved as they should.
Why did they heed the herald over him, the Emperor?
Why rejoice at gifts he hadn't decided?
True, he'd ordered attendants to run the rite.
Exchanging gifts with that mob was tedious beyond measure.
In short, no deeper reason.
Pure laziness.
But that laziness bred idleness, sapping motivation.
Motivation gone, laziness returned.
Then someone appeared before this Emperor.
"I pay homage to the Empire's sun, His Imperial Majesty the Emperor."
No attendant in tow.
No tribute?
The Emperor straightened slightly for the first time in ages and raised his hand.
The herald—his proxy—fell silent; the true Emperor spoke.
"No attendant."
"My tribute is an object no mere servant could dare carry."
"...Speak further."
"Today, I offer Your Majesty, lord of ten thousand generations, the one thing in all the world that Your Majesty alone does not possess."
Something the Emperor lacked.
The northern lands lost to beasts, perhaps?
By imperial law, even those were his.
'Something I lack...?'
No answer emerged from contemplation.
So he asked the mage.
"This entire continent will soon be mine—yet something I lack? What do you mean?"
"It is this..."
The mage produced a blue floating stone and declared.
"The heavens themselves, Your Majesty."
"..."
At this, the Emperor knew.
'My daughter's ploy.'
A chuckle escaped.
'No wonder his words rang so clear...'
The mage before him recited his daughter's script.
The Emperor asked again.
"You must be Isaac."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"I am the Empire's father, so you are my grandson."
"..."
"Speak freely, then. How will that blue orb grant me the heavens?"
Isaac began explaining at the Emperor's words.
The Emperor, who'd studied magic in youth, found it sounded like a foreign tongue.
The court mages reacted.
"Impossible... Controlling a floating stone?"
"Principia...! He succeeded."
The Emperor pieced their reactions and questioned Isaac.
"So. With that floating stone, one can fly freely through the skies?"
"Precisely."
"Can you make me fly now?"
"Yes."
"Staking your neck on it?"
"Yes."
The guards flinched at Isaac's certainty.
The captain stammered.
"Your Majesty... Using unverified Magic Tower magic is...!"
"I don't want to hear it."
"..."
The captain fell silent.
The Emperor trusted Isaac no more than the captain.
'This boy... From the Magic Tower, right?'
He trusted his daughter and his old mentor, the Dean.
The Emperor rose from the jade throne and approached Isaac slowly.
"Very well. How exactly?"
"Draw near this floating stone, and I'll handle the spell structure. After that..."
"After that?"
Tap.
The Emperor placed his hand atop the blue stone.
At eye level, Isaac spoke.
"Simply savor the heavens."
"Poetic."
"Are you prepared?"
"Begin."
Flash.
The stone glowed, rising into the air.
Emperor and Isaac followed, bodies lifting.
Murmurs erupted.
Your Majesty!
You mustn't!
The chamber grew noisy; all looked up at the pair.
The Emperor told Isaac.
"Rise until their voices fade."
"Understood."
Whoosh.
Isaac's gesture parted the ceiling; they floated out through the windows.
"Faster. Up beyond the clouds."
"Yes."
They accelerated skyward at his command.
Yet the sensation gripping the Emperor felt like freefall.
Strange.
Falling upward.
Thump-thump.
His heartbeat echoed in his ears.
Last time it'd pounded so was as crown prince on the battlefield.
Isaac asked.
"Any discomfort?"
"None. Press on."
His heart might burst from this novel thrill, but he craved no halt.
"Understood."
Ground noise vanished.
Swoooosh.
Only wind whistled past; clouds loomed ahead.
What sound would clouds make?
A question for five-year-olds—the Emperor learned the answer in middle age.
Swoooosh.
No difference from wind.
Knowing that alone brought joy.
They pierced the clouds and halted in the sky.
As ordered, higher than the clouds.
"Higher still?"
"..."
"Your Majesty?"
"No... Stop here for now."
Standing above the heavens, the Emperor gazed about blankly.
Endless blue sky.
Even clouds lay beneath his feet.
"Incredible."
"What is?"
"What... I'm in the sky."
"Ah."
Blinding, shadowless expanse.
The Emperor shaded the sun with his fingers.
"Clouds palm-sized grew hall-spanning, yet the sun hides behind one hand."
"..."
"How far away...?"
How vast it must truly be—no gauging.
And he called himself the Empire's sun?
Ridiculous.
Then Isaac spoke.
"The distance to the sun is roughly 150 million kilometers."
"..."
The Emperor was speechless.
He hadn't expected a real answer.
Isaac tilted his head.
"Should I convert to yards instead of meters?"
"...No. That's fine."
What an odd youth.
He fully grasped why his daughter kept him close.