Chapter 53
Chapter 53
----------------------------------------------------------------- Translator: Ryuma Chapter: 53 Chapter Title: The Tower Lord's Audience ----------------------------------------------------------------- The next day. Rocherto came looking for Ian again around noon, when the sun hung highest in the sky.
"Come on in. I hope you managed to shake off last night's fatigue."
"Thanks to your consideration, I rested quite comfortably. But may I ask why you've sought me out again?"
Rocherto had clearly said yesterday that he'd send someone to the forest to verify the matter. Once confirmed, they need only dispense the appropriate reward based on the mission's success. There was no reason to summon him separately to his room like this.
"Hahaha, well, about that. Hmm, how should I put this."
Rocherto scratched his cheek, hesitating in response to Ian's question.
"Truth be told, it's not me. The grand elder of the Magic Tower—the greatest figure among us—wishes to see you."
"Pardon? The greatest figure in the Magic Tower..."
"Oh dear, time's running short already. No time for this—let's head there and talk on the way."
Leaving the room, Rocherto led Ian onto the circular platform and lightly tapped it with his staff. Tap, tap!Vrrrrm! Then, from what had seemed the Magic Tower's absolute pinnacle—with no higher place to climb—the platform beneath Rocherto's room began ascending endlessly. It cleaved through the clouds without pause.
"Your guess is spot on. The one who wishes to see you now is a living legend, the man closest to the world's truths. Please, mind your manners without a single slip."
Rocherto's admonition carried profound reverence. For a man ranked fifth in the Magic Tower's hierarchy to tread so carefully... 'Midas. Looks like he's lived a pretty successful life.' Nearly double the height from the ground to Rocherto's room—it was only then that the platform finally halted. Filling Ian's view was a vast blue sky. And at its center, a massive door. This was the Magic Tower's true summit, the holy sanctum accessible only to the elders.
"From here on, stick close behind me." Step, step! Following Rocherto, who took the lead as guide, they walked for quite some time. The door looked close enough to touch, yet it refused to draw nearer. 'Perception interference magic, huh. Just like him.' How much time had passed since they started walking? Finally arriving before the overwhelmingly grand and majestic door, Rocherto checked his attire before knocking. Knock, knock! "Tower Lord, it's Chief Elder Rocherto. I've brought Second Young Lord Ian as requested. May I let him in?" Grrrrrumble! Not long after Rocherto's request, the massive door slowly creaked open. Through the widening gap, the face of a middle-aged man with hands clasped behind his back came gradually into Ian's view. Though a full decade had passed since Ian last collapsed, the face remained utterly unchanged—as if they'd met just yesterday. His impassive eyes held a profound depth that seemed to encompass the world. Apart from a faint emptiness in his gaze, it was exactly the face Ian remembered. Midas Alloin. The era's hero and great sage, who had clashed to the bitter end with Lucas Alexei on the Kairon Plains. He welcomed Ian with serene eyes.
I have to endure. I can't let all my hard work crumble here.' "It's an honor to meet you for the first time, Tower Lord. Meeting the great sage renowned across the continent is a privilege." Having barely composed himself, Ian offered the first greeting. Only then did Midas respond belatedly. "Goodness, look at me spacing out. Keeping a guest standing like this." Swish! Midas lightly waved his hand, and a tea service materialized between them as if it had always been there. Swish! Midas sat first in a chair and beckoned Ian over. "Don't just stand there—come, have a seat. These cookies are surprisingly good, despite their looks." "Then, if you'll excuse me." Ian sat across from Midas and reached for a cookie on the table. Crunch! The crisp texture brought a tangy flavor flooding his mouth, widening Ian's eyes. "This is...?" Not because it tasted good, as Midas claimed. The cookie was, in fact, atrociously bad. Yet Ian was stunned by the taste precisely because it was one he knew all too well. The horses roaming the vast steppes of Crohoca on the Northern Continent. Cookies made from their milk—mare's milk cheese. Unlike the nutty butter cookies from Oselana in the Western Continent or Bestrika in the Southern Continent, Crohoca's mare's milk cookies boasted a distinctive tang bordering on sourness. Thus, outside the Northern Continent, mare's milk cookies were typically scorned as food for northern barbarians. Yet here was the great sage Midas—one of the continent's grand heroes—enjoying them. "Heh heh heh, the flavor's a bit unique. But it grows on you with a certain charm." "...
Yes, I suppose so." Munch, munch! Perhaps nostalgia from the long-lost taste got to him. Ian grabbed another couple of cookies. Midas, who had offered them, now eyed Ian with curiosity. "Ho, unexpected. I never thought a young person would appreciate this flavor's true worth." "...
It's not bad now and then. That said, I heard you wished to see me, Tower Lord." "Heh heh, that fellow. Looks refined, but he's got a bit of a hot temper." Pour! Midas poured tea, took another cookie, and savored it slowly before speaking. "Nothing major. I heard the Blackrock King—that wretched troll—has awakened again. And that it wasn't the Clonen girl who slew it, but you?" Slurp! Midas took another sip of tea and continued. "Though circumstances have kept me secluded from the world, I'm not so deaf as to miss rumors of Paon's second son. 'Half-baked martial clan brat,' isn't that your moniker? Yet word spreads that such a youth felled the Blackrock King. As a mage, how could I ignore such a tantalizing mystery?" His blunt speech would offend most, bordering on rudeness. But Ian didn't so much as blink. 'Yes, that's Midas Alloin. The kind of man who can't rest until his curiosity's sated, straightforward to a fault. That tactless way of speaking hasn't changed.' To Ian, who remembered the past, it evoked fond familiarity. "Is that so?" Midas's eyes flashed briefly as he met Ian's calm gaze. "Hmm, peculiar. Most peculiar. Your eyes... they're no loser's eyes. Rumors can twist, sure—but not to this degree. This speaks of deliberate, thorough concealment from the start." Swish! Midas peered into Ian's eyes as if determined to read every secret. As if he'd be sucked into those unfathomably clear depths. "You've endured utterly absurd evaluations. Calling you half-baked? Overkill on the hiding. You're more like..." Midas paused mid-sentence, then changed tack. "Hm, never mind. Instead, how fares the Lichtenauer house these days?" "Father's still hale and hearty. If anything, he seems to be growing younger." "Heh heh heh! And Nedyr?" "He seems long-lived too." "Tsk tsk, that guy's got nine lives." The small talk dragged on. How much time passed? Only when the blue sky darkened and stars emerged overhead did Midas end the conversation. "My, time flew." "Then I'll take my leave. It was a great honor conversing with you, Tower Lord." "Ah, wait—just a moment." As Ian rose with farewells, Midas raised a hand to halt him. "Can't send you back empty-handed after coming all this way. You achieved a great feat for our tower and indulged this old man's whims all day. That's no small service. Now, what to reward you with..." Snap! Shrrk! Midas snapped his fingers, and space warped to reveal a blue sub-dimensional pocket. Plunging his hand in, Midas rummaged slowly. "Hmm, this one's potent but tacky. This lacks practicality... Ah, you. What weapon do you use?" "Dual swords." "Mind if I take a look?" Swish! At Midas's request, Ian handed them over willingly. Midas was a maestro of artifact crafting. But Ian was a warrior too—no need to reveal all his weapons' secrets unprompted. Unless Midas unraveled the Twin-Headed Blood Serpent's mysteries himself... "Hmm, fine blades. Sharp edges, but this pair... hides some intriguing features, doesn't it?" No such luck—he'd spotted it immediately. Having crafted countless artifacts, such secrets in Ian's Twin-Headed Blood Serpents were child's play to Midas. "Hmm, to triumph over the Blackrock King with such weapons demands seasoned skill... Ah, this'll do." Vmmm! Midas chanted briefly, opening a red sub-pocket distinct from the blue. He delved in and rummaged. Moments later. Clink! A faint sound tickled the ears as Midas withdrew his hand. Thud! What emerged was a thin sheet of metal. No—a suit of armor. Chainmail, woven from links. Clink! Midas extended the chain armor to Ian amid tinkling links. "Take it. Looks simple, but it's quite capable. Dispels magic up to 3rd class, and infusing your mana unlocks the memorized spell etched in the mail—turning it into chains for use." Ian's eyes widened. With his all-in-one Golden Heaven Chain, he'd little interest in defensive artifacts. Even so, this armor's prowess was immediately apparent. "This seems too much, Tower Lord. I haven't earned something like this." Ian demurred slightly, but Midas merely chuckled and insisted. "The Magic Tower rewards merit handsomely, outsider or not. Your deed was no trifle." "But..." "Overrefusal is rude too. Better a promising youth puts it to good use than it rotting in my chamber. And call it a hunch... but I feel you'll draw out its full potential." With the Magic Tower's lord pressing so, Ian had no choice. He accepted. "...
My deepest thanks for this undeserved kindness."
"Heh heh heh! Safe travels. Short as it was, a delightful time."
With that, Midas dismissed him. As Ian stepped out slowly, Rocherto—who'd apparently been waiting—greeted him.
"Done already? What did the Tower Lord say... Hm?"
Rocherto eyed the chain armor in Ian's hand with an odd reaction, but only briefly. He boarded the platform silently and guided Ian back to the ground. Clank!'Jackpot... But this armor. The more I look, the more it resembles the Golden Heaven Chain.' Gazing at the chain armor, Ian couldn't shake the strange familiarity it evoked.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The spot Ian had left. Alone behind the Door of Truth, Midas gazed at the vast horizon under the sky and the twinkling night stars, enjoying the view. Knock, knock! "Come in." Swish! Rocherto, having escorted Ian down, returned to Midas.
"You've been visiting often lately."
"My apologies, Tower Lord. But... wasn't that reward excessive? Silver Moon Armor... You crafted it with all your heart, inspired by that man's weapon."
Silver Moon Armor. Among the artifacts Midas—the pinnacle of magic and continent's top hero—crafted upon secluding in the tower, it ranked in the top ten. Nay, its performance might be top ten, but Midas's affection for it placed it in the top three. For it was born from inspiration clashing with the man who first made Midas feel a wall—the greatest giant in all Agena.
"You're right. At first, I had no intention of giving away the Silver Moon Armor."
"Then why the sudden change?"
"......" Swish! Recalling Ian walking somewhere below toward his lodgings, Midas answered.
"His eyes."
"...
His eyes, you say?" "Yes, his eyes. Not the gaze of a green novice, but a fully forged warrior's." The sole edge age granted an elder over youth: seasoned depth and experience. No genius could fill that void in their youth. History proved it through countless young heroes who perished unfulfilled. Yet Ian was different. Though barely into his late teens. His eyes held the maturity of a battle-hardened veteran. "I want to see it. The half-baked martial clan brat who might even surpass that blockhead Alex." "...
He's still just an immature child of the martial clan. You're overestimating him..." Normally, Rocherto wouldn't dream of questioning Midas. But not now—not after bestowing Silver Moon Armor on an unpolished whelp. "......" Midas added nothing to Rocherto's words. Rocherto couldn't imagine. The unspoken part. 'If I said the boy reminded me of Lucas, he'd flip.' There was a reason Midas held back. He couldn't explain why himself. As Rocherto said, still a child. Sensing Lucas in such a boy? Even Midas found it excessive. Yet somehow. Seeing him stirred inexplicable expectations. But if his instincts held true. The boy would become a great talent. 'Grow tall and make your name echo across Agena.' And if you grow into a talent evoking Lucas... Then this Magic Tower will back you.'