The Tower's Bewilderment
“Haaah...”
A utterly boring day in the North, with nothing to do.
“No more tweaks left to make...”
Right now, I was pretty much the only one left in the castle.
The Grand Duke, the knights, and even some of the servants had all headed out with plenty of space to stretch their legs.
To deliver the heating magic I'd set up earlier to the residents.
For me, it was a hassle, and unavoidable, but I stayed behind in the castle just in case I ran into any of the locals who'd snitched on me. Awkward.
“Ah—”
I let out another yawn and rolled around energetically on the bed.
The Grand Duke's Castle, once freezing and rock-hard, was a distant memory now.
“Lower the temperature a bit.”
Whirrr.
The heating magic that had been warming the room responded to my voice and quieted down.
Just the right cool temperature.
I burrowed into the fluffy blankets and laid my head on the pillow.
On the ceiling, the glow-in-the-dark star fragments I'd installed out of boredom floated in the air.
'Wonder if Kian and Barto are doing okay?'
It had been a week since Kian left on his important mission as transport manager.
Smart guys like them—I trusted they'd handle it fine.
I swallowed my needless worries and closed my eyes.
The day after the North stirred up a commotion in my forgotten memories.
The talk of the town among the capital's gossips and mages was one thing only.
The Grand Ducal House. And the North.
A land on the decline.
Kian, who had never lost top spot at the Academy, declared the North's future.
Despite his incredible skills, he'd belonged nowhere—and he was a thorn in the Imperial Magic Tower's side.
But now, they couldn't just ignore him.
“Did everyone see that carriage?”
The Golden Light Magic Tower's grand conference room was packed like never before.
“...It definitely wasn't telekinesis, right?”
Telekinesis alone was recognized as advanced magic—a high-tier spell that shaped mana into threads to exert physical force.
But the carriage from the North was something else entirely.
At the center of the round table in the conference room, a crystal orb projected a recorded video.
Again.
At the gesture of an elder mage from the tower, the video looped endlessly. And at its center was always the carriage.
The eerie thing that rode in on clouds—the North's carriage.
The world and humanity belonged to us, but the skies were still unknown territory.
Magic beyond not just young mages' understanding, but even the great trees of the Golden Light Magic Tower.
At first, they'd thought Kian was secretly propping it up with his own power.
Again. Again. As the video looped, the mages' faces grew stiffer.
“...Is it really permanent levitation magic on that object?”
“From what we saw... yes.”
Mages were generally proud. Selfish, stubborn. They didn't believe anything they hadn't seen with their own eyes.
But when it was footage recorded by the crystal orbs in Victory Square before the palace—ones that detected mana flow too—they had no choice.
The mana flow was crystal clear.
“Can anyone parse that flow?”
“...”
A heavy silence fell over the conference room.
The mana flow was visible. Turbulent, swirling, brilliantly shining mana.
Yet no one could grasp it. Understand it.
An erratic flow that spread everywhere before gathering in one spot—grotesque.
“Is the Elmaster absent?”
“We've sent word. Should arrive soon.”
When something was beyond their understanding, they handed it to someone greater.
That was the primary reason the mages' alliance—the Magic Tower—existed.
Even if that someone was a bit difficult to deal with...
Every mage in the room swallowed dryly at once.
How much time passed?
In the darkened conference room, the only way to gauge time was that endlessly looping crystal orb footage.
Even as footsteps approached—thud thud—they couldn't tear their eyes away.
“Aigoo, sorry I'm a bit late.”
The door swung open, flooding the room with light.
The Golden Light Magic Tower's Tower Master. The next Archmage.
The Elmaster, with dazzling platinum hair cascading down, entered the room.
“Ah, that's it, huh? Lemme see...”
To the empire's citizens, a reliable mage, a planet orbiting the sun.
But to the imperial family and fellow tower mages, the name meant something else.
A cranky old man.
An 80-year-old youth who'd overcome even aging strode briskly to the center of the table.
“Mm! Oh...!”
The room remained silent—except for that one person.
The problem was that one person kept exclaiming nonstop.
“What do you think...?”
“Wow... incredible magic!”
No one here didn't know.
No one could say a word to the Elmaster, who chuckled and clapped alone.
One thing was confirmed by the Elmaster's words: the force levitating that carriage was definitely magic.
“Y-yes. Amazing, right...? So, what about that complex flow and mechanism?”
He'll know.
The mages' eyes held trust more than fear.
“I have no clue at all!”
Still that childlike laugh.
“As expected... wait, what?”
“Great show. Feels like insights are just popping into my head.”
The Elmaster stared endlessly at the crystal orb, eyes gleaming.
The eyes of an explorer.
His cranky personality was familiar, but no one in the empire could match him in magic.
The only reason he survived the tower's cutthroat politics and kept renewing his term as Tower Master.
“Kian's teacher made that magic, right? Amazing mage.”
We know. Everyone knew.
“S-so, what about the mana attribute? We guessed wind attribute.”
“No idea! But definitely not wind mana.”
The Elmaster's gaze stayed glued to the footage.
His focus broke only after a long while.
They'd forced him to watch the looped video hundreds of times by now.
A mage of his caliber, watching that long—surely he'd grasped something.
As all the Golden Light mages shared that thought, waiting for his next words...
The Elmaster stood from his seat.
“Show's over, so I'll head out. Keep working hard for the empire!”
Their last hope left just like that.
“Ah, I'll send a letter to that nameless mage in the North, so don't worry.”
Not forgetting a bright smile and wave goodbye.
His cheerful footsteps faded again. Silence returned to the conference room.
The castle folk who'd left at dawn returned only after the next day's sun rose.
“How'd it go?”
I rubbed my sleep-fuzzy eyes and went out to greet them.
Having slept straight through from early afternoon, I'd woken up perfectly timed for their arrival. Perfect.
“Ah, the reaction?”
I nodded vigorously at Arwen's question.
Should've done a review event?
Me, who only ever left reviews for delivery food, hearing others' feedback for once.
Half excited, half worried, I waited for Arwen's answer.
“They were all crying.”
“Y-yes?”
My heart dropped.
No way there was a flaw in the magic circle I hadn't spotted?
Impossible.
The heating magic was perfected after dozens of revisions post-initial development.
It even recognized the user's voice to adjust temperature...
“Crying from joy, obviously?”
“Of course. It was harder shaking off the ones chasing us to say thanks.”
Arwen chuckled.
A clear, refreshing laugh, as if shedding long worries.
Snow flurries still whipped through the sky.
But now, snow piled nowhere.
“Spring's coming.”
A snowflake landed on me.
The cold sensation melted away against my body heat.
“Not spring yet.”
“Eh, yeah...?”
I didn't want to kill the mood, but spring was still far off.
“Gotta deal with the magic beasts too.”
Work was work.
I recalled the magic circle designs I'd prepped.
Still experimental stage.
With the assistant's voluntary participation in a few days, it'd be done quick.
I smiled at the massive wall dividing the North's border and territory.