Chapter 141
Chapter 141
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 141
Chapter Title: Shopping
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Magic wasn't used, yet the door was crumpled.
Staring at the collapsed stone door beyond recognition, Eric's mouth fell open.
'The door and the magic on it just vanished entirely...'
It was a tale known only to those in the know.
The Owl entrances scattered across the world were all created using the Clock Tower Lord's magic. This place was no exception. Eric himself had crafted one right before coming to Korea.
The method for making an Owl's stone door went like this.
First, rub flowers blooming near a volcano onto granite and squeeze horse blood into the stone to let it seep in. The stone would then emit scents of blood and flowers. At that point, bone dust was used to engrave magic circles into each stone. It was a spell from the Grimoire held by the Tower Lord.
The resulting massive stone door gained defensive power to withstand ordinary attacks and a verification magic. The verification magic varied greatly, changing entry methods with each season. The door could endure all such trials effortlessly.
That is, until now.
"......"
Eric approached the crumpled door with a dazed expression.
The door, once tall enough to touch the ceiling, had shrunk to smaller than a palm. Its hardness had dropped from rock to slime level. Was it melting and squishing, or had the stone's properties changed entirely? No way to tell.
"......What did you do?"
Thud.
Eric set the dripping door on the floor and turned to Ian. Ian replied with an awkward look.
"......I didn't do anything."
"What kind of nonsense is that? You expect me to believe nothing happened and it ended up like this?"
"That's what I'm wondering. Why'd the door suddenly turn into that?"
"......Hah."
Eric let out a hollow laugh.
It was a trivial ability, but Eric had a ring that let him detect lies from others about three times a week.
A custom item he'd paid a fortune teller five hundred million for. The ring, never once malfunctioning, remained silent now too. Meaning Ian wasn't lying. Eric's lips quirked up in intrigue.
"......Fascinating. Never seen anything like this in my seventy years. What's the cause? Did the mage's caliber overwhelm the door? No, that shouldn't be. The door's magic comes from the Tower Lord's Grimoire, not some ordinary spell. No Eastern mage could smash it head-on."
"......"
"But no other hypotheses come to mind. Wait... Could it be the Grimoire? As soon as it sensed you trying to use its magic, the door crumbled...?"
"Speculate all you want, but I'm ready to head in."
Ian cut off Eric's mumbling. With a deep sigh, Eric tucked the Grimoire back into his coat. Eric stopped talking and looked at him.
"......Right, of course."
Eric chuckled dryly and adjusted his slightly crooked glasses. The crimson torchlight on the wall reflected off the lenses, scattering glints.
"What means you used don't matter. You've proven you have something capable of smashing the door. Enter."
"......Any penalties?"
"None. I guarantee it. You know mage society runs purely on merit. Bloodlines without talent get treated worse than natural prodigies."
He added with an implied I should know and stepped aside.
Ian hesitated briefly before stepping through the open doorway.
The fog-filled beyond was hard to see with the naked eye, but knowing it was magical eased any unease.
"This incident will be reported to the Clock Tower."
As Ian brushed past, Eric muttered softly. Ian halted, eyes shifting to him. Eric smirked at the sharp gaze.
It was a smile of delight.
"Don't look at me like that. It's not like I want to."
"......"
"Rebuilding this door requires the Tower Lord's permission. Naturally, the circumstances must be reported. A verification team will come to check if I'm telling the truth."
"......Tch."
"It's necessary procedure. As part of the Clock Tower, even I must follow their rules."
"Fine, got it."
Unpleasant, but official procedure left Ian with nothing more to say. Arguing further would just be pointless bullshit. No reason to play troublemaker here.
"Hope you put in a good word."
"I'll try."
Eric replied, crouching to pick up the melting door flap. Ian left him behind and advanced into the open foggy path.
Ian couldn't pinpoint why the door had flown off either. But he could guess it related to Outer God magic. Likely, the door's magic couldn't withstand it and collapsed.
Surprising it crumbled without using Re-creation magic, but if the stone's magic stemmed from a Grimoire, it wasn't so odd.
He already carried three Outer God Grimoires; magic far from its master crumbling under their aura was plausible.
'The Tower Lord is a mage with a Grimoire too. If it's magic from a Grimoire, it could have been devoured by similar magic in reverse.'
Of course, pure speculation. No certainty from hypotheses alone. Best to shelve it until the Clock Tower acted on the report.
Hopefully, not violently. Ian had no desire to fight an organization.
Crunch, crunch.
As he pondered while walking, the fog filling his vision began to thin. Color returned to the hazy front, and the silhouettes of the group who entered first came into view.
"Ah, you're here......"
Yuna spotted Ian first and giggled. Ian smiled back, parting the fog fully to step into the Owl proper.
As if passing an invisible air barrier, entering where the group stood brought a rush of scents into his nostrils.
Perfume, herbs, blood, beasts.
A myriad of aromas wafted thickly from all sides. Sensitive noses might get dizzy. Ian's wasn't that bad, but still unpleasant enough to twist his face slightly.
"What’s that smell......"
"Lots of goods handled here! Mages vary, so what they sell does too!"
Dolores answered Ian's mutter. She laughed merrily, looking around. Ian followed suit.
The mages' shop, the Owl.
No one knew why it was called Owl or its origins. But it shared one trait.
The shops were underground, resembling a prison overall.
"......"
A straight corridor. Sunless basement. Damp space lit by blue torchlight on walls and floating blue flame lanterns overhead. Ian let out a low groan.
Shops lined both sides like cells.
[Astrologer's Fortune-Telling], [Alchemist's Apothecary], [Mysticist's Mystery Shop], etc.
Shops of varied natures stood nobly under the blue light. No hawkers, of course. Owners waited inside for customers.
"I'm heading to the tailor's first."
Dolores said, pointing to a sign at the corridor's end: [Evriato's Clothing Shop], smiling brightly.
"Getting a custom dress made. What about you all?"
"I'll go with Dolores sis! Don't know what's here anyway!"
Ari replied. Dolores didn't refuse, elegantly taking her hand with a faint smile.
"Shall we, then? And you?"
Dolores's gaze shifted to Yuna. Yuna pondered, then moved behind Ian.
"I'll stick with him...... Just here to browse......"
"Got it! And you, Shin Ian?"
"Heading to the materials shop first. Got some requested items, and stuff to buy myself."
"I see! Then try [Pleas's Trophies] over there. Franchise, so no scams."
She pointed to a sign in Greek. Ian nodded.
"Thanks for the tip. Wait up when you're done?"
"No need! Head out when finished. Tailoring takes time; this girl'll stay. Can't waste your time."
Dolores curtsied like nobility.
"Lady parts here! See me at the clothing shop if curious—love chatting with commoners. Might recommend outfits too!"
"Sure, if time allows."
"Great! See you!"
Dolores pecked Ian and Yuna's cheeks, then walked off with Ari. Ian watched her back briefly, then turned to Yuna.
"Shall we go too?"
"Yeah......!"
Yuna gripped her staff and nodded.
They headed straight to the recommended trophy shop and opened the closed door.
A wave of chemical scents hit—preservatives for trophies assaulted their noses. Ian and Yuna winced instinctively.
That was when.
"A customer, nya?"
A voice from the counter. Had to be the owner. Ian looked up.
Their eyes met.
"Hmm, first customer in ages, nya. Nice face too......"
No person at the counter.
Right, no person.
Instead, a cat wearing an upside-down witch hat stretched languidly.
"So, what're you looking for, nya?"
The cat's lips moved.
A cat talking like a human—no matter the angle. Ian let out a hollow laugh.
The world sure had its share of oddballs.