Chapter 17
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: Inspector (6)
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Imperial Magic Tower's break room.
"Do you know what kind of person the new Inspector taking office is?"
A Magic Tower staff member asked Anes. It felt less like greeting a visitor and more like chatting with an old friend.
Of course, they had known each other since Anes's time at the tower, so it wasn't strange. Thanks to that, the break room had a relaxed atmosphere, and the staff member popped a small dessert into their mouth before continuing.
"It's insane. A commoner with no family at all. No experience whatsoever. And that's the end of the explanation."
"…."
How could such a person become an Inspector?
That was the only thought in Anes's head.
An Inspector was a position that checked whether the Magic Tower was progressing toward the right goals and oversaw whether members strictly adhered to principles and magical ideals in their duties.
However, effectively supervising and leading the tower's members required immense support. It was practically a leadership role.
Dr-r-rk— dr-r-k—
Anes spun the cube with one hand as usual.
After a long silence lost in thought, the staff member across from her smirked as if they had expected it.
"Come on, you don't want to be secretary to an Inspector like that, right? Pretend I never said anything. Head back to the palace quick."
As the staff member reached to retrieve the papers on the desk.
"…No."
Anes lightly pinned the paper with telekinesis.
"I can't go back to the palace anyway. No choice."
Anes had come here after submitting her resignation; she had no other options. The only shortage in the Imperial Magic Tower right now was in secretaries, so what could she do? She'd have to take it.
Kii-eek—
Mid-conversation, a male staff member entered the break room. He was quite surprised to see Anes.
"Whoa, what's this? Anes?"
He confirmed it was really her after spotting the cube.
"It is you. What brings the Imperial Administrator here?"
"Not the Imperial Administrator anymore."
"…No way you quit there to come here?"
The man's eyes widened.
"You messed up. You're jumping onto a sinking ship."
The female staff member next to him immediately glared.
"Hey, why do you come in and say crap like that?"
"Why? Anes needs to know."
But despite their heated exchange, Anes calmly brushed her black bob behind her ear. The woman's eyes widened.
"Aren't you curious at all, Anes? About this."
"Abysmally low performance, faction fights… Isn't that all it is? It's been like that since my days working here. Hearing it again now doesn't surprise me."
"Oh, it's not just that anymore."
The man sighed deeply.
"No idea why, but the 2nd Princess is coming back to the capital. She'll visit the Imperial Magic Tower within the week."
A brief silence fell.
"…The 2nd Princess herself is coming?"
"Yeah. What do you think, Anes?"
"Hm…."
Anes had no personal experience with the 2nd Princess, but she'd heard enough stories to make her ears bleed.
Watch even your breathing.
That phrase always tagged along whenever the 2nd Princess was mentioned. She placed great importance on bloodline and status, and even more on elegance and etiquette.
…The fate of those who crossed her was obvious.
The man sighed.
"No way someone who's neglected the tower for years suddenly cares now. Most think she's aiming to sell it off."
It was a reasonable inference.
The Imperial Magic Tower belonged to 2nd Princess Hedera.
But Hedera had shown little interest in it.
More precisely, she'd lost interest abruptly when the tower failed to reach the goal of 'human magic on par with dragons.' After that came years of neglect.
The woman shuddered.
"Hm… Do you think the 2nd Princess will like a commoner rookie Inspector with no experience? I absolutely don't…."
"…."
Soon, both staff members' gazes turned to Anes.
"Anes, just go somewhere else. If you were someone I didn't know, I'd try to convince you to stay, but since it's you, I'm saying this. Why come to a place like this?"
"Exactly. Unless the new Inspector is some omniscient god who fixes everything, this place is doomed. Far from a dream job."
In short, no future here.
Dr-r-rk— dr-r-rk—
Anes spun the cube, reminiscing.
A strict family, graduating the academy too early due to overwhelming talent… In the end, the place where she'd spent the most time in her life was this Imperial Magic Tower.
It was also the only place she'd grown attached to.
Maybe that's why it felt oddly regrettable.
Deep down, she hoped the tower wouldn't collapse.
"…."
But she shook her head and signed the papers.
Personal feelings—especially expectations or hopes—didn't suit her. She knew that well.
"…Doesn't matter. Work a bit and leave. That's it."
An omniscient Inspector.
An Inspector to solve all the tower's problems at once.
An Inspector to convince the almighty 2nd Princess.
…No such thing exists.
Imperial Magic Tower's cafeteria.
Currently, the space was split into two opposing crowds, leaving only the head seat for Zekiel empty. It wasn't the layout; with two factions, it naturally divided that way.
"Never thought I'd see you here, Widro."
Knox, head of the Practical Faction, pushed up his glasses with index and middle fingers. His lip curled up as a bonus.
"You bragged about reserving the center of the sunset view, yet here you are in the cafeteria? Maybe your age made you mix up the spots."
"Worry about your own face. That desperate scramble to pull out a scroll on the street looked like a lizard shedding its tail. Quite a crowd saw it."
The standoff was taut, ready to snap any second.
Neither side would yield. No averting eyes or backing down first.
They loathed even sharing the same air, yet today they gathered, abandoning all prepared plans. For one reason.
And that reason was, of course, singular.
Zekiel's Seven-Colored Ice. Captivated by it.
'Something I'd never seen, and utterly impressive.'
Knox and Widro shared the sentiment.
The feat Zekiel displayed on the street was that remarkable. For veterans of the Imperial Magic Tower, it sparked immense curiosity and inspiration.
Then Widro smirked at some point.
"But Knox, you didn't notice at all?"
"Notice what?"
Widro's smile deepened.
"The Inspector. Used magic directly, no scroll. Clearly has no interest in scraps of paper. Better drop your ambitions early."
Most of the Theoretical Faction wore similar expressions to Widro.
The new Inspector was surely a fit for the Theoretical Faction. Believing that firmly, they were all relaxed.
'…Pitiful old fools.'
But Knox leisurely curled his lip too.
The Inspector used pure magic. If anything, that's why Knox was interested. How hadn't they realized?
'No matter how brilliant pure magic is, once you seal it in a few scrolls and try it, you'll fall for the convenience. The greater the skill, the easier to sway to the Practical Faction.'
Scrolls were like sponges. Soak up magic with full force, squeeze, and it releases. Knox boasted tech that could perfectly absorb any magic.
He recalled the Seven-Colored Ice from memory.
If he could seal and use that in scrolls…?
The profits were incalculable.
'An enormous opportunity. Truly enormous!'
Bam—
Zekiel appeared right then.
His head so high you had to crane your neck.
Under white hair, refined features sat nobly, yet his relaxed mouth chewed leaves like cud.
Elegance and rebellion.
Two incompatible elements harmonized in him miraculously. Perhaps that's why ordinary descriptors fell short for such a unique figure.
Rumble—
No matter the tower's power players, the Inspector's position was highest. Everyone stood at once to greet him.
A huge crowd, thunderous voices, piercing stares—all attention fixed solely on Zekiel.
A rookie might feel awkward….
"Surprising. You at least know how to greet properly."
He was utterly at ease.
As if surrounded by deferential speech was natural, as if dominance ran in his blood, he brushed off what would burden ordinary folk.
Meanwhile, Widro looked puzzled.
"…What was that supposed to mean?"
"Just checked the last decade's performance. Made me wonder if you knew how to do anything at all."
"…."
"But the greetings were decent. That's the surprise."
Starting with performance talk froze faces stiff. Widro even bit his lip.
Fuu—
The Inspector exhaled smoke nonchalantly.
"Anyway, it's me. Inspector of the Imperial Magic Tower. Zekiel."
Everyone immediately doubted their noses.
"…?"
Acrid, but distinctly not ordinary tobacco. Inhaling deep would sting with hot warmth.
All clues pointed to one thing.
'…Sunweed? Inside the Imperial Magic Tower?'
Expressions grew complicated, but Zekiel ignored them, continuing calmly.
"Tiring meeting like this—dragging it out helps no one. I've already decided a few things before coming. Just relaying those."
"Hold on."
Interrupting Zekiel—Widro.
"Tiring meeting? This is a grand occasion."
The old man glanced at the lavish spread around.
"Isn't all this fine food prepared for a noble guest visiting the tower? A good spot. Absolutely."
Knox pushed up his glasses, eyeing Widro intently.
What the hell are you doing? But Widro ignored the implied glare completely.
"Before the formal announcements, a drink or two wouldn't hurt, right? I'd love to toast the esteemed Inspector."
Widro smiled, but no one took it as genuine. The blatant performance jab had bruised his pride badly. And his pride was fiercer than imagined.
Already picking a fight? Knox sighed as if he couldn't rein him in.
Meanwhile, Zekiel just chewed his Sunweed casually.
"Fine, whatever. You others want some too?"
As he lifted and tilted the bottle, the instant liquid spurted from the neck.
Widro channeled mana through his fingertips into the glass, wrapping its exterior in a fine, dense transparent barrier.
The result was obvious upon contact. Alcohol would spray everywhere like a fountain, making a spectacle. What better way to embarrass him publicly?
"Ha ha ha—!"
Widro burst into hearty laughter.
"Seems our Inspector isn't used to fine occasions. Spilling booze everywhere—what a mess your clothes are!"
But immediately, massive dissonance crashed over him like a wave.
The stares aimed at him were bizarre. He looked down and realized—no scattered droplets.
Yet the glass held nothing. Why?
Finally, his wandering gaze reached the bottle's mouth.
"…!"
Widro was stunned.
It was frozen.
Every sprayed droplet had crystallized into ice, defying gravity, fixed motionless in midair.
As if capturing a fountain's instant eternally.
The old man's eyes slowly shifted to Zekiel.
Lake-blue irises pierced Widro.
"Looks like you're used to fine occasions."
Tok.
One droplet melted, landing in the glass bottom.
"Perfect. I wanted a demonstration anyway."
And.
Zekiel wasn't done.
"Follow the Way of Liquor. Not a drop spilled."
A voice sharp as frost.
The old man thought.
The feat of suspending frozen droplets midair, ignoring gravity—precision was one thing, but the power immense. Even channeling mana, Widro wasn't sure he could dislodge them.
No room for other thoughts.
…Not an opponent to stake pride on. That was all.
Tok.
This time, a distant right-side droplet melted and fell.
Widro instinctively shot out his arm to catch it.
Tok. Tok. Tok.
It continued.
No more harmonious pouring. The old man desperately snatched randomly falling droplets.
Tok tok. Tok tok.
Falling speed increasing.
Tok tok tok. Tok tok tok. Tok tok tok.
"…!"
Range spreading wider.
Tok tok tok tok tok tok tok.
The moment sweat beaded on Widro's forehead.
Zekiel leisurely scanned the room.
"Alright, whose turn next?"
"…."
Everyone straightened simultaneously, as if rehearsed.
In this tangle of clashing interests.
Absolute order was now emerging.