Reunion at the Red Magic Tower
Debi Jane.
A mage who wielded fire.
Like all of her kind, she was incredibly fierce.
For fire mages were always deeply influenced by the blazing mana they controlled.
True to her nature, she had clashed with Roan often, fought with him often, and reconciled with him just as often.
And he had loved that about her.
"Things only feel alive when she's around."
Only when they were shouting and clashing did he truly feel alive.
In a past life where death lurked around every corner, experiencing the raw, vibrant reactions of a living person had been his only solace.
"At least she doesn't seem to be hurt anywhere right now."
He thought of the newspapers he had been scouring.
Her name was always splashed across the front page.
"She churns them out at a terrifying pace. I don't know a thing about magic, so I can't tell how impressive it actually is, though."
"Here we are, customer! We've arrived at the Magic Tower!"
The coachman's call snapped Roan out of his reverie.
Roan quickly stepped down from the carriage.
At that moment, a towering shadow fell over him.
Recalling the ruined magic tower from his memories, Roan slowly looked up.
He saw the towers.
There wasn't just one.
Four massive spires of varying heights stretched endlessly into the sky.
"The Red Magic Tower is the tallest."
It seemed the heights of the towers were determined by the caliber of the mages residing within them.
Roan's steps faltered as he walked toward it.
The memories of his past life held him back.
Here.
Right here, Debi Jane's expedition had begun, and right here, it had ended.
The cultists' summoning ritual.
Seizing the moment when the already famous Jane returned for a brief visit, the cultists, who had grown in power, used her as a sacrifice.
Her body was consumed by flames, becoming a gateway.
It was the moment an otherworldly entity descended upon the continent, using her flesh as its medium.
"It's your fault. You let me die. The continent was destroyed because of you. You killed everyone around you."
Though she had never actually said those words, the phantom of her from just before her sacrifice seemed to whisper at his feet.
Roan murmured inwardly, as if to reassure her phantom.
"It's okay. I'm back. This time, it will be different."
He shook his leg.
The specter of the past shattered under his movement.
Now, it was time to step inside the Magic Tower.
...
The interior of the tower was bustling.
Mages in robes were busy at work.
The air was thick with mana, and embers flickered everywhere.
The colors of their robes varied; since this was the main lobby, mages from the other towers were visiting as well.
And the gazes of these busy mages occasionally drifted toward a single spot.
A rather petite figure.
But her fierce, sharp eyes completely overwhelmed her small stature.
Beside her open book lay a wand, embedded with a crimson gem that looked like condensed flame.
"Debi Jane. You are destined to save the world. Join my party."
The grand speech he had prepared in advance vanished the moment he saw Debi Jane, looking exactly as she did in his memories.
"Debi Jane!"
Roan bellowed with his thunderous, booming voice.
Clatter!
Crash!
Startled by the fierce shout, several people dropped what they were holding and stared blankly at Roan.
"W-what is it? A fight?"
"Is he insane? Picking a fight with Debi Jane?"
The lobby began to buzz.
The students of the Magic Tower whispered among themselves at the name he had roared.
The prodigy.
The genius of fire magic.
The one who brought glory to the Red Magic Tower.
Since he had shouted her name so loudly, they assumed it was a challenge or a provocation.
But they were wrong!
Roan hadn't roared her name to start a fight!
"It's really... it's really you, Debi Jane! Ahhh!"
Roan approached her, sobbing openly.
He couldn't help it; he was looking at his comrade, alive and breathing, whole and unharmed.
The suppressed regret and the desperate need for atonement.
All of those emotions burst forth like a broken dam, overwhelming him.
"I worked so hard...! I won't let what happened before happen again...! I won't let you die ever again, ughhh..."
A tearful reunion.
Watching this display, Jane placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Jane...!"
At that exact moment—
"Didn't I say not to let crazy people in? Throw him out."
The expected reality set in.
...
"Talking about my past life only brings trouble."
That was the lesson he had learned after being treated like a doomsday cultist back in Melgen.
But he couldn't just give up here.
He had to at least talk to her.
At least get on speaking terms.
At least...
"Let me out. We're not the kind of people who do this to each other."
"...And what kind of people are we? Based on my first impression of you, this seems exactly like the kind of relationship we should have."
He needed to get out of this mana prison.
The first basement level of the Red Magic Tower.
Roan had been locked away in the holding cells reserved for the Magic Tower's troublemakers.
"At least she didn't just lock me up and walk away."
As he sat quietly, Jane scanned him from head to toe.
"Setting aside your bizarre personality, what you said is actually quite interesting."
She stepped closer to the bars of his cell.
"The tenth basement level of the Magic Tower. A cultist ritual. Its success, the summoning of an otherworldly entity, and the fact that I am the primary sacrifice for that ritual."
She began to list off the things Roan had told her, one by one.
"It's far too specific to be the mere ravings of a doomsday fanatic. It sounds almost like a prophecy."
"A prophecy..."
Indeed.
A prophecy.
But no matter how much Roan protested his innocence, he couldn't easily earn her trust.
"However, there is one flaw. The Magic Tower only goes down to the ninth basement level."
That was what the residents of the Magic Tower believed.
But they were wrong.
It wasn't true.
Just a bit below the ninth floor.
There was a hidden space.
But explaining that to her now would likely fall on deaf eyes. Debi Jane wasn't in a state to believe him.
When Roan fell silent, Jane snapped her book shut.
"Hmph. I suppose you want to tell me it's not a delusion, you doomsday nut."
"It's not!"
Roan cried out internally.
However, Jane's next words took a surprisingly different turn from her sharp tongue.
"Still, you were quite convincing, so I'll give you a chance."
She snapped her fingers.
Instantly, the mana chains binding Roan shattered and fell away.
"Convince me."
She was offering him a chance.
Their disastrous first meeting had been steered back on track. Roan's response was immediate.
"...How do I convince you?"
"A mana crystal."
A rare material infused with pure mana.
"One is resting on the ninth basement level. But I cannot go there."
"Why? Because it's the warlocks' territory?"
"...Because it's dark."
Her murmur was too quiet to reach Roan's ears.
But regardless, a chance was all he needed.
"Of course, I'm not forcing you. If you don't want to, you're free to leave."
"Of course I'm going! So, you're coming with me, right?"
"No? Why would I? I have to bring more glory to the Magic Tower. Do you have any idea how valuable I am here?"
"You really haven't changed a bit. Always nagging."
"How annoying..."
Jane muttered to herself.
How dare he speak so familiarly, as if he knew everything about her?
And what was with that relieved, gentle expression on his face?
For some reason, it made her chest ache slightly.
"Anyway! The Magic Tower will assign an escort to monitor you! Bring the crystal back from the ninth floor! If you do, I'll at least listen to what you have to say with some seriousness!"
"Sure, sounds good."
While he was at it, he could root out the seeds of destruction hidden down there.
"Ha! Where is all this confidence coming from? Are you thinking, 'Since it's the Magic Tower, they'll just teleport me out if things go south'?"
"No."
There was no need for that.
"Because I've trained far harder than last time."
Because now, his defense would never break.
...
"Are you... the one I'm supposed to monitor?"
A man draped in a red robe scanned Roan.
The escort Debi Jane had assigned from the Red Magic Tower had joined him as his monitor.
His name was Velog.
He was one of the few who had ventured into the tower's basement levels a couple of times.
"Yes! I'm Del Roan! Nice to meet you!"
Roan greeted him energetically.
But his enthusiasm was lost on Velog.
"No need for introductions. Down here, you either die or run. Those are the only two options."
His tone was dripping with blatant indifference.
Yet, his reaction actually surprised Roan.
"Oh? You're not going to mock me for being a country bumpkin or looking like a beggar?"
"I don't care about such trivial things. Just know that I won't help you even if your life is in danger. My only job is to drag your half-dead corpse back to the surface."
"Ah, is that so? Then you won't have much to do."
Roan chuckled playfully.
"Annoying bastard."
Velog found him deeply irritating.
He acted with the calm nonchalance of someone who had already lived a full life.
"Enough. Let's open it."
Deciding there was nothing more to say, Velog opened the iron door.
The worn door shrieked ominously, revealing the darkness within.
It was a pitch-black abyss where one had to navigate by the dimmest of lights.
A chilling draft from the depths of the basement seeped through the gap.
"You've heard, I assume."
"That this is the warlocks' territory?"
Velog nodded.
"Failed experimental monsters, stray mana, corpses, and homunculi. This is where they all gather. And the ninth basement level you're heading to is even worse."
There were warlocks residing down here, but only down to the third basement level.
"Once you go deeper than the warlocks' territory, nothing but endless darkness and screams will welcome you. Even with my experience, the fifth basement level is my personal limit."
"I see. Got it."
Despite the warning, Roan stepped inside without a moment's hesitation, completely unfazed.
With every echoing footstep, rustling sounds could be heard.
Warlocks scurried away into the shadows like mice.
"Perfect. I'll grab the crystal on the ninth floor, then look for the entrance to the tenth."
In truth, Roan didn't actually know where the tenth floor was located.
His plan was simply to search every nook and cranny by brute force.
Without a single pause, they made rapid progress.
Before long, Roan and Velog reached the entrance to the fourth basement level.
—Thud.
"The atmosphere definitely changes from here on out."
There was no reply.
Only his own voice bounced off the walls like a hollow echo.
"It really is dark. Jane always hated the dark."
With that idle thought, Roan took another step forward.
At that exact moment—
—Splat!
—Gurgle...
"It's starting," Velog muttered.
Along with Velog's murmur, the remnants of failed dark magic—
BOOM!
"Hah."
...were instantly obliterated by Roan's strike the moment they manifested.
The bubbling, boiling slime splattered lifelessly onto the floor.
Its core had been shattered, making it impossible to maintain its form.
"But he shouldn't make so much noise."
Velog prepared to flee.
Wriggle...
—Gurgle...
Screeech...!
All the other abominations began to crawl out of the dark.