Chapter 55
Chapter 55
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 55
Chapter Title: Tower Entry Gift
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“This is a gift for your entry into the tower.”
In the Tower Lord’s room, Ariella held out a few ancient tomes.
“You said you had a hobby of collecting untranslatable ancient books, right? These are ones I gathered for research in the past. They were useless to me, but I figured you could put them to good use.”
“…Did you expect me to succeed?”
“No. But regardless of the outcome, I planned to accept you into the tower. You have more than enough qualifications. And also…”
Her gaze shifted to the side. Toward Ezekiel, who was cooling his head with icy air emanating from his hand.
“No matter how much I dislike it, I don’t want to be hated too much.”
“Say it without punching me, then.”
“You didn’t dodge or block it, so doesn’t that mean you thought you deserved it?”
Their relationship… I still couldn’t quite figure it out. It was clear they had a lot of built-up emotions, but it didn’t seem like their conflicts were all that serious.
Whatever the case, the tower entry issue was resolved, and there was even extra compensation.
‘As expected, there’d be a lot gathered here.’
The Book of Hell was also a book that ordinary people couldn’t read. Among Ariella’s gifts were three volumes of the Book of Hell.
Three Mem and two Vav.
‘Are all the Vav collected in the tower?’
Before my regression, I hadn’t found even one, but already three had turned up here in the tower.
The one in Lucas’s study might have come from the tower too.
‘Then, conversely, does Hashashin have all the Nun?’
As Damian sank into such thoughts, Ariella cleared the air.
“Won’t you show me your unique color?”
Whoosh. At Ariella’s request, green flames rose from Damian’s right hand.
“Hmm… Oh. Oh ho. The color is one thing, but the way you maintain the shape is so intuitive. The stability is tied to the flames clinging to your body. It somehow feels like it’d be hot.”
Her impression of Hellfire wasn’t much different from what Rubia had said before my regression.
Even an archmage couldn’t help being ignorant of black magic.
“Both adapting Ezekiel’s mana barrier and your magic in general… how should I put it? It’s like magic made just for you. It’s not easy for talent to manifest in such a way.”
Still, she saw more than most people.
Rubia had realized Damian’s secret thanks to similar suspicions and ancient ruins. This was something to always be cautious about.
“Tch.”
While Ariella stared piercingly at the green flames, Ezekiel clicked his tongue with a sullen expression.
“What you said earlier was just a joke in the end, right?”
“No, that was sincere.”
“…Master, are you insane?”
“What did you two talk about while I was locked up?”
“I recommended your master as the next Tower Lord.”
“Wha—?! C-Cough!”
Damian pounded his chest repeatedly. He’d nearly spat out the tea he was drinking by mistake.
“I didn’t hear that wrong, did I?”
“Sadly, no.”
“Do you have some grudge against the tower? No matter how I think about it, it sounds like a plan to ruin it.”
“…Hey. You’re not wrong, but it hurts coming from you too.”
Ezekiel poked her side repeatedly. At least he had the conscience not to deny it.
“It’s true his personality is… well, a bit—no, very problematic. But in terms of skill, he lacks for nothing.”
Tower Lord and archmage.
It was a position that ‘had’ to be held by the greatest mage of the era.
One that inspired those around them simply by existing and had the duty to elevate the boundaries of magic another step.
“In that regard, the current tower council members can’t even reach Ezekiel’s toes.”
It was a sharp criticism, but no one could deny it.
After all, Ariella stood at the pinnacle of magic right now.
“…There’s one person. Not at that level yet, but someone who’ll reach it in the near future.”
Rubia de Clarent.
Saying her name directly made his stomach twist, but he couldn’t deny her skill.
No, Damian knew her talent better than anyone right now.
Because he had witnessed Rubia ascending to archmage with his own eyes.
From the start, she was the most likely candidate for next Tower Lord and archmage. That was the common consensus.
“You’re not wrong, but I’m a bit…”
“Because of her status?”
“Not exactly that. It’s not like there’s never been a tower lord from a magic noble family. And even if it’s not confirmed, if the Empress becomes Tower Lord… that could be interesting in its own way.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s the madness she’s hiding.”
At those words, Damian’s fingertips trembled.
He hadn’t known anyone else besides himself had seen through Rubia’s ugly inner self.
“You know some of it, right? Being someone who receives unwanted favor.”
“…”
Damian didn’t bother answering. That alone was affirmation enough.
“I have my own madness too.”
“It’s different from yours, priest. You’re the same inside and out, but she isn’t.”
This was the Tower Lord’s room. No worries about information leaking out.
If this conversation reached Rubia’s ears, things would get more complicated than imagined.
“But why are you already worrying about the successor? Master, are you feeling unwell somewhere?”
Ezekiel posed the fundamental question. Why was the still hale Tower Lord fretting over a replacement?
“Because a problem will soon arise with me.”
“…You dreamed it?”
“It’s been a while since the last one. This might be the final one.”
“A dream?”
“I can have prophetic dreams.”
A special power unique to Ariella, separate from magic.
She couldn’t control it intentionally, and they came randomly.
‘You already knew?’
The disappearance of Tower Lord Ariella.
Amid escalating conflicts to decide the next emperor, a massive incident rocked the empire.
Without any warning, Ariella vanished. Not assassination or kidnapping—just evaporated.
All the tower’s guardians were mobilized to search the entire empire, but not a trace was found.
The tower’s politics fell into chaos for years, with many siding with reformers or traditionalists in the process.
Whether she knew that future or not, Ariella spoke of her own absence calmly. Damian couldn’t just let it pass.
“You need to come up with some countermeasures. You can’t just sit idly by, right?”
“Sadly, my prophetic dreams have never been wrong even once. When you reach a certain realm, you learn to accept fate.”
“With my limited insight, fate isn’t something you accept—it’s something you seize.”
The tower needed Ariella.
If she remained intact, talents like Guardian Dennis wouldn’t join reformers or traditionalists.
Moreover, the civil war’s players would have been highly conscious of her presence.
No, her mere existence might have suppressed the civil war altogether.
That was what a Tower Lord, an archmage, embodied.
‘I have to stop it if I can.’
Damian couldn’t guarantee he could prevent Ariella’s disappearance.
His original plan was to swiftly end the chaos even if it happened.
But if Ariella herself knew the future, that changed things.
Her disappearance was half a year away. Wasn’t there enough time now to respond?
However, despite Damian’s impassioned plea, Ariella just smiled gently.
“Young and resilient. That spirit really… resembles her so much.”
“Who do you mean?”
“Why, Marian, of course.”
Fortunately, it wasn’t Lucas. But that made it even harder to understand.
“Do you know my mother… Marian Renekht?”
“Of course I do. She was a cute and fun child. ‘Fate is something you seize.’ That was something Marian said too.”
Damian had just blurted it out on impulse. He hadn’t known his mother Marian had said such a thing.
“You look surprised. Did you think Ezekiel came to you with no connection?”
“Did you have to bring that up?”
As her name was mentioned, Ezekiel averted his gaze.
Until now, he’d thought it was because of a connection with Lucas.
Whatever their relationship, Ezekiel’s visit to the detached palace had been due to his bond with Damian’s mother Marian.
“I didn’t see you at the funeral.”
“I visited secretly at night. It was for your sake.”
If it came out that the Emperor’s consort was close to the Tower Lord, it wouldn’t benefit Damian.
Ariella and Ezekiel had considered even that.
‘Just what kind of person was Mother…?’
The memories Damian had left of her were only fragments.
He’d rarely even talked about her with Anna or Felix. After the funeral, she’d essentially become taboo.
A beauty who enchanted the Emperor. An lowly dancer oblivious to her place. The woman who birthed a cursed illegitimate child.
Few good rumors remained about his mother Marian. Empress Abigail’s schemes had likely played a part.
“You seem to have a lot of questions. Ask your master later. There were many amusing incidents.”
“You’re better off not asking. Talk of your father is bound to come up.”
“Huhu. To think I’d be talking like this with Marian’s child… Hold on.”
“Lord Tower?”
Ariella suddenly leaned in close. Close enough to feel her breath. Her clear eyes reflected Damian’s face.
“Why are you here… Ezekiel, you too…”
“M-Master, what’s wrong all of a sudden?”
This time, she pulled Ezekiel in as well. Ariella groped both Damian’s and Ezekiel’s faces with her hands, staring into empty space.
“You shouldn’t be here… This is different from my dream…”
Ariella slumped back into her chair.
She hadn’t done anything special, yet she looked utterly exhausted. Even her wrinkle-free face seemed to bear the weight of years.
“Master? What do you mean? The dream was wrong?”
Ezekiel wore an incredulous expression.
Having spent much time with Ariella, he knew better than anyone the accuracy of her prophetic dreams.
“You two…”
Ariella gazed at Damian and Ezekiel with a dazed, half-lost expression.
“Won’t you seize my fate together with me?”
* * *
“It looks like the tower entry is settled.”
Boris said as he read the translucent note.
His and Erewin’s master was also a tower council member.
They’d received a report after the emergency meeting on Damian concluded.
“Let me see too.”
Erewin leaned in. Boris felt disgust at the woman similar to himself drawing near, but he didn’t voice it today.
-Rubia, that damn bitch!! I’ll kill her! I’ll definitely kill her!
It hadn’t been long since yesterday’s hysteria had calmed.
No noble lady their age didn’t envy Rubia.
But Erewin’s was extreme. She’d been compared to Rubia since childhood.
“Our little brother pulled off something big again. Wait, what? He escaped the Tower Lord’s mental world!? Is, is that even possible? I should go pat his head and ask.”
“Pfft, anyone hearing you would think you’re really close siblings.”
“What? I’ve always been good to him.”
It wasn’t wrong. The problem was how twisted that “good” was.
Erewin was obsessed with having whatever Rubia had.
Her affection for Damian was likely an extension of that.
“Anyway, it’s surprising. To grow this much in just half a year.”
“That’s why Her Majesty wrote us letters too. Hope it works out. I don’t want to kill him.”
Still, the image of herself shedding tears with a dying Damian in her lap didn’t seem so bad.
“Why’s your lip curling up again? Don’t tell me you’re thinking something weird.”
“N-No. Anyway, what about that Rubia bitch? She’ll just get in the way of the plan.”
“…I’ve been thinking. What if we show overwhelming results here?”
“What’re you talking about?”
“Catch two rabbits at once. Recruit Damian and deal with Rubia. If we time it right, it should work.”
“Isn’t that too hasty? Even for Her Majesty or brother…”
“Hey, Erewin.”
Snap. Boris flicked his fingers, and a translucent barrier enveloped them. Eliminating even the slightest chance of words leaking.
“There’s only one throne in the end. If we win, either I or brother will sit on it. Arkin’s too dim for it.”
As Boris straightened up, Erewin naturally fell backward.
“Boris… Why so scary?”
Gulp. Erewin swallowed under his sharp gaze.
“From the moment the first prince doesn’t inherit, it doesn’t matter much who comes next.”
Boris stroked Erewin’s hair. No gentleness in it.
“Your future status depends on the choices you make. Keep that in mind.”
Pat pat. Boris patted Erewin’s shoulder and softened his expression.
“But since we shared the same womb for ten months, shouldn’t I take a bit better care of you? You can’t become Emperor, after all. Nor Empress.”
Boris laughed teasingly. After he left the room, Erewin twisted her lips.
“Can’t become Emperor or Empress…”
That was the chain she bore as an imperial princess.
“Who decided that?”
But Erewin considered other possibilities.
An old photo emerged from her bosom. It showed her as a child with a boy.
Smack. Erewin kissed the photo. It was the key to breaking her chains.
Her half-brother.
Damian Renekht.