Betrayal
Isabel had entered the Magic Tower at the age of nine.
Born with an already terrifying amount of magical power, she had been a remarkable figure even then.
At nineteen she became one of the Tower Lord’s top disciples. By twenty-seven she had climbed to third disciple.
When she passed forty and became Tower Lord herself, no one in the Magic Tower dared to demand anything from her.
Her entire life had been spent within the walls of the tower. She was now sixty-nine years old; next year she would turn seventy.
Most of her peers had already gained renown and left the tower behind, but she remained the oldest and most senior member still working there.
For her entire life she had devoted herself to research for her own sake. She had wanted to make the name “Eternal Flame Isabel Confino” even greater.
Just as she had wished to become like Madeline Confino, the Infinite of the Night, she had longed to become the Infinite of the Flame.
She had worked her entire life to become an existence so unique that no family name like Confino would ever be needed.
Even within the Magic Tower her single-minded obsession had been tolerated. Everything had been granted so she could focus solely on her research. At the time she had believed all of it was for her sake.
But when she entered her late fifties, something struck her. She was strong alone, yet she possessed nothing.
She had no idea how the Magic Tower actually operated. She knew nothing about its major sources of income and owned no personal wealth at all.
If she had asked, her disciples would have told her everything—respectfully, of course—but the explanations had been far too complicated.
Of course she was a brilliant researcher; she spoke, read, and wrote in ancient Morihan and many other languages fluently. Yet she simply could not understand the words.
Why, when the tower sold its own creations, did she have to pay the king? She had never once received a salary in her life, nor had she ever owned private property. She had lived inside the tower, and everything there had been lavish.
She did not understand the difference between the perks she enjoyed as Tower Lord and the private wealth she would have had if the title had not existed.
Yet her disciples kept telling her things she did not know. She could not admit ignorance in front of them. It would have been too humiliating.
So she frantically pretended to understand everything, feigning disinterest, while pouring herself even deeper into her research.
It was already too late for her to learn those things. The only destination she could reach was the rank of Infinite. She believed that was the only ending she could ever hope for.
Then Damien Hamilcar had appeared. A boy said to be even more talented than she had once been was given the title of Eternal at only ten years old.
The Magic Tower had whispered that before the boy turned thirty he would reach the rank of Infinite. In her blind spot, where her shadow could never reach.
She hated Damien Hamilcar. In truth, his very existence had been stabbing at a deep wound inside her chest.
But she had never matured enough to separate those feelings precisely, so she simply told herself that Damien was the one she disliked.
When the artifact vanished, she immediately suspected Damien. It was not even suspicion; it was a quiet storm.
It had to be Damien. If she punished him, her thing would come back, and he would disappear.
The artifact had been bought to attain the Infinite title. When it did not return, she began to think of other options.
What if she used Damien instead of the artifact? It might produce even better results. Damien would disappear, his potential would be absorbed by her, and she would become the Infinite Flame.
All of it had seemed perfectly natural to her. And throughout it, she had never once imagined that someone would blame her or betray her.
It was impossible. She was Eternal Flame Isabel Confino, Tower Lord, and the one who would receive the title of Infinite.
Isabel stared at the third disciple with trembling eyes.
“No! Please believe me, Tower Lord! It is the scheming of those wretched people who seek to divide the tower! Do not be deceived!”
She screamed it out with blood in her throat.
Had she ever seen such a face…?
For the first time, a face of a stranger from somewhere else was screaming at her right in front of her eyes.
In the eye of the storm, Isabel desperately tried to summon the face of her third disciple. Not the old man thrashing about in agony with his limbs flailing, but the ten-year-old child who had always smiled serenely.
The third disciple had entered the tower at ten and feared the night. That was why he had often come to Isabel’s laboratory. Her laboratory was always as bright as day.
She had watched that face for forty years, the one sleeping under a blanket in the corner of her laboratory. Now the ridiculous, disgusting man in front of her eyes—who was he?
Isabel raised her burning right hand. A fireball grew larger and larger from it. It was enough to kill a person, no, it was growing even larger.
The fireball continued to swell, and the third disciple, in a daze, begged frantically.
“That alchemist didn’t know I was the king’s man! I swear! I—I only needed money! Tower Lord, I swear on my life! Please, please!”
Isabel’s chest heaved. At that moment, when the fireball was about to grow even larger, Raymond called out to her.
“Tower Lord.”
Isabel turned to him, and Raymond shook his head.
“Please set this aside for today.”
Isabel’s aged face had twisted like a child about to cry.
Raymond shook his head again.
“It is not to punish the betrayer, but so you may have time to sort out the days you spent together.”
Isabel Confino was an arrogant, selfish woman, but she was not a swindler who deceived people.
When Raymond offered her delicious food, her eyes would light up instantly. When she stayed at an uncomfortable inn, she would grow gloomy.
She had simply become an old woman who had never learned anything as a child.
Even now, she only knew how to feed the flames; she could not attack the third disciple. Her hand trembled with the frustration that had once led her to burn the temple on sight.
Raymond was not worrying about her; he knew she could not kill the third disciple right now, so he tried to calm her.
“It’s cold…” Isabel muttered.
She had never felt cold in her life. Inside her body she carried the Eternal Flame.
But now it was freezing.
“So cold…” Isabel whispered. The flames on her hand began to dwindle, as if she could no longer maintain them in the cold.
Isabel turned her back. She began to descend the Grand Hall alone, her staggering figure watched silently by everyone behind her.
The third disciple glanced around nervously, then tried to flee.
“Damien.”
The moment Arian called his name, the lightning Damien summoned struck straight above the third disciple’s head, and he collapsed unconscious.
The moment they moved to Demia’s temple, Father had said:
“The blood of the Danier family shall all kneel.”
David and I dropped to our knees on the floor in an instant.
We had braced ourselves for this.
Of course. David had ignored Father’s command to bring me, and I had come here pretending to attend a bridal class while stirring up the entire world.
Moreover, instead of following David who had brought me, I had stayed here together without Father’s permission and openly antagonized the Tower Lord.
Of course I had antagonized the Tower Lord not under my own name and had been cautious even in Serpine, but none of that would excuse it to Father.
“It has been a while, Raymond.”
Pythia spoke to Father. He greeted her respectfully.
“It is late, Holy Saintess. I apologize for failing to show proper deference when my son’s mistake caused you to lose your composure.”
This was not forgiveness.
Father was furious right now and was telling Pythia, “You are an adult—what on earth were you thinking to bring this situation about? I can’t bring myself to greet you.”
As the king’s subordinate, Father had always been below Pythia. A subordinate could complain.
Pythia smiled uncomfortably.
“Well, however…”
Before she could finish, Damien cut in.
“This is Damien Hamilcar. I wanted to be certain to inform you that Prince David tried to take Lady Arian.”
Hmm?
“However, when my father, Count William Hamilcar, arrived at the temple that day, he informed me that the Tower Lord had sent an objection letter. I was… imprisoned after being suspected of stealing an artifact from Tower Lord Confino, and after a brutal interrogation I was finally sentenced to be used as a magic material.”
In this world, “interrogation” meant torture. A brutal interrogation naturally meant intense torture.
“Of course, as a disciple of the tower I had to obey Tower Lord’s judgment. Yet I was in a life-threatening situation after receiving an ungrounded accusation. As you know, I am the only Hamilcar descendant. The future of Hamilcar rests on my shoulders, so I escaped, and in the process a battle broke out in which I attacked Tower Lord and her disciples. Tower Lord was safe, but her disciples were not, and Tower Lord asked Father to escort me. Prince David was furious at the horrific tragedy I had endured. Lady Arian is the witness who received me together with Saintess Pythia when I fled to Gerka’s temple with my injuries.”
Damien finished speaking and looked at Pythia. She stepped forward as if she understood.
“I have known Damien since he was a child, Chamberlain. I remember him collapsing the moment the door opened on a rainy night covered in blood. You cannot even imagine how pitiful he looked. I called Tower Lord and asked her to stay and testify as a witness for Arian. So please, look at my face and forgive Arian.”
Pythia looked at me. At that moment I was stunned and gave David a glance next to me.
No, even if Mother loves me that much, this is not the time to plead only for me to be forgiven while they are on their knees!
“Prince David too.”
Pythia added belatedly.
The sound of sobbing made me glance at David, and I found him staring at Pythia with eyes full of betrayal.
David muttered.
“As expected, only pretty girls…”
Such.
David’s phobia of beautiful women, born from his mother, would only grow worse.