Flowers and Weeds (2)
Flame Magic Senior, Bensy William.
“Haa.”
Bensy let out a sigh from high in the sky, as if the ground itself might cave in.
It had been a prime chance to show off the might of his secret magic.
Yet he'd gone and acted like a fool in front of the Chief.
‘Why are you doing this to me, Chief...!’
In truth, Bensy bore a heavy responsibility.
Dealing with the monsters pouring out from collapsing rifts, no less!
But Bensy had a hunch.
Even with hundreds of rifts spawning, not a single one would actually collapse.
“Rackid, couldn't you just leave one for me...?”
It was trust in his comrades—or rather, in the Mage Tower.
These were foes who could never breach the Tower's walls.
Could they really stand against the Tower's senior mages at that level?
Bensy smacked his lips, just in case.
“...Still, you never know, right?”
How had the Arcana Continent changed?
He hadn't set foot there himself, so he couldn't say for sure.
But these were monsters who had held their ground even after the Demon Realm trampled the continent into ruin.
‘They must be pretty tough in their own way.’
Shhh.
Bensy anxiously rolled a magic tool in his palm while monitoring the rifts.
Looking closely, maybe there was no reason to despair after all.
‘Take Kiko Senior, for instance...’
Enchantment Magic Senior, Kiko Armin.
She spent every day holed up in Garnet Hall, immersed in enchantment research.
Her achievements in enchantment were undeniable, but she was hardly suited for real combat like this.
Whoosh.
Suddenly, Bensy's gaze shifted to the city below.
He focused his mana on his ears.
Listening intently to the conversations drifting up.
“What's even going on?”
“Why did rifts suddenly spawn like this? And the Tower's seniors entered to clear them? Out of nowhere? Why?!”
“Either way, isn't it good for us? Crazy, the recommended level starts at 400 minimum! With all the rankers in Arcana, who in reality could even clear these...!”
The adventurers stared anxiously at the rifts, their faces tense.
Behind them stood anti-kaiju weapons, lined up in rows.
Bensy snorted.
“Pretending otherwise now won't help.”
America, was it?
He'd seen plenty of their hostility toward the Tower.
The old Mage Tower would have obliterated their entire country without a second thought.
Bensy muttered.
“You should be grateful to the Chief.”
What? Doubting he's a demon king?
Even distorting the Chief's grand vision was forgivable, but still.
Bensy smacked his lips again.
“Time to teach them their place, don't you think?”
With the secret magic of the flame magic house, House William.
“Ahem, in a way, this is thanks to the Chief too.”
Requests to leave the Tower: denied.
Requests to enter Arcana: denied.
Requests to borrow war-grade magic tools: denied.
Bensy had time to burn, buried in research.
Thanks to that, he'd fully mastered the incantation for his secret magic—even the one only the founder had ever manifested.
“So please, just one rift...!”
If only to discipline these fools.
But Bensy's wish went ungranted.
One by one, the rifts began to close.
Senior mages from the Tower emerged from within.
Bensy's brow furrowed in injustice.
“At this rate, I'll be left sucking my thumb...!”
“What's the problem, Bensy Senior?”
“Pardon? Matis Senior? Oh, n-no! No problem at all!”
Black Magic Senior, Matis Din Karl.
His skills were chief-level; no one would bat an eye.
He'd cleared several rifts early and now stood beside Bensy.
“Everyone, good work!”
“Good work? Please.”
“Nice to circulate some mana for once.”
Then, led by Rackid, the seniors gathered.
Bensy clung to hope until the end.
Even Kiko, the one he'd marked, emerged unscathed.
“What about Bellie Senior...?”
Healing Magic Senior, Bellie Yusia.
She hadn't appeared yet.
Healing Magic was a field with vast research demands among the schools.
Proof: most healing mages weren't proficient in other spells.
Especially Bellie Senior.
‘She was deep in research even before leaving the Tower, probably?’
Hearing she'd been studying ways to purify dragons corrupted by mishandling World Tree fruit.
Bensy spoke cautiously.
“Shouldn't we... provide support?”
In front of Matis, he tried not to reveal his true intent.
But his acting fell flat.
“Sorry, I was a bit late venting research stress.”
“...Gasp.”
Even Bellie.
She emerged from a rift with those loaded words.
Rackid patted the dejected Bensy's shoulder.
“You did great too, Bensy Senior.”
“G-Great? Hardly...!”
He'd meant to teach these arrogant fools their place with his secret magic!
But no chance came.
Perhaps seeing through it, Matis spoke lowly.
“Do their faces still make it necessary, Bensy?”
“...?”
Only then did Bensy notice the adventurers' expressions—and those aligned with them.
Matis was right.
They all seemed to grasp the vast gap already.
Their conversations floated up.
“All those rifts cleared in just a few dozen minutes...!”
“I-Is this the Tower's true power?”
“AAU just officially announced it! Lee Hoyeol didn't create the rifts—they were always going to spawn, but the Tower suppressed them! And they thought to bomb that Mage Tower?!”
Maybe I didn't need to step in after all.
“Ahem.”
Bensy cleared his throat awkwardly.
Instead of sulking, he straightened his posture.
Right now, with eyes looking up to the Tower.
He needed to match that with dignity.
And the perfect model for that was, of course...
Shh.
“Ahem.”
Bensy subtly slipped his arms from his jacket sleeves and draped it over his shoulders.
Rackid chuckled unwittingly.
‘Even so, that's something only the Chief can pull off.’
Unaware or not that Rackid laughed at him.
Bensy asked slyly.
“By the way, where are the Tower Master and Chief? If they'd entered rifts, they'd have cleared and returned by now. I don't see them...”
Matis provided the answer.
“The two have stepped in to wrap things up.”
*
As expected, nagging doubts never miss.
“I won't ask forgiveness, Head of Yusra.”
US East Branch Chief, Eugene McCain.
Facing Eugene, Predator-Prey Relationship didn't trigger.
As anticipated, this incident stemmed from pure human malice.
‘Not surprised if they get plucked from their flower beds.’
Now that I knew Grandfell didn't blindly praise humanity.
I couldn't help but worry for America's safety.
After all, what monstrous deeds had they committed?
“The Tower will dispose according to procedure.”
Even Marcelo wore such a stern expression.
But at this moment, I remained as always.
Betraying no needless emotion, I said.
“Guide us.”
“...Guide?”
“To the culprit behind this.”
Truth be told, it was endlessly complicated.
The US President involved? Politically thorny, and by Lee Hoyeol's common sense, something to avoid entanglement with.
But as I'd said, to me now.
To Grandfell, there was cause not to yield.
‘That damn family pride...!’
I went along because I knew the Claudy family's circumstances—really.
Eugene immediately pulled out his smartphone and made a call.
“...Regrettably, still no contact.”
By Eugene's account.
He hadn't expected the Tower's preemptive strike either.
Eugene continued bitterly.
“Perhaps I was mistaken. As a non-developer AAU branch chief, I thought my view aligned more with the White House than AAU...”
Post-cataclysm.
Years passed.
Crises weathered.
Some things never changed.
Obviously, now wasn't the time to blame differing perspectives.
I spoke.
“Recall the coordinates.”
Fate demanded I face the US President, it seemed.
Even rethinking it, Lee Hoyeol's guts were massive.
First the Korean President, now America's too?
‘Still, gotta meet him.’
To put it simply, Eugene was just a pawn.
The plan came from above; he merely joined.
‘If demons are involved higher up...’
President, VP, whoever.
This incident had too many unexplainable elements for mere human malice.
Fine, hostility toward me was understandable.
But ‘turning the Tower into an enemy?’
Considering the Tower's influence post-cataclysm...
It was suicidal on the international stage.
Why, imagine US players barred from Tower portals.
‘They might defect to Yusra Kingdom like Hisagi.’
Soon, I drew up mana.
“Chief.”
Marcelo gazed at me, eyes half expectant, half puzzled.
When I asked for coordinates, he'd assumed a portal manifestation.
“...I can't pinpoint the exact location. In this situation, the President would have evacuated to a secure site, not the White House.”
But the coordinates I meant weren't that.
“Recall it. The culprit's face.”
Thanks to elevated rank.
All my magic manifestations had advanced a dimension.
Far beyond circle formation.
I could substitute concrete coordinates with mere imagination of the target.
Marcelo, awed, trailed off.
“Just how many high magics interlock to...!”
Of course, it was Grandfell's monstrous talent enabling it.
No time for self-praise.
I manifested the spell at once.
Rooooar.
“...!”
Regrettably, the portal wouldn't open.
Obviously not from lack of skill.
My manifestation held no flaw or error.
So, Eugene McCain.
Had he failed to recall the coordinates, the face?
No, not that either.
Bzzz.
A vibration rang out.
Eugene's smartphone.
And mine.
Then, I realized.
The spell's failure was simple.
Yes, because the coordinates no longer existed.
In this world, any longer.
“Wh-What...?”
Eugene's face filled with horror.
......
“Head...”
I took the note from US West Branch Chief, Joshua.
The paper was written in blood.
One word repeated densely, without spaces.
The culprit was Raymon Sean.
No.
Grandfell corrected.
“It was a demon.”