Chapter 189: The Tin Knight and The World Inside The Library (9)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 189: The Tin Knight and The World Inside The Library (9)
The Tower of Foresight. Before the Secret Library.
Poi, an apprentice mage, was currently reflecting on his recent conduct.
He wondered what sin he could have possibly committed to find himself in such a predicament.
Poi's mage rank was a single book.
The lowest of all the mages in the tower—the very bottom of the barrel, so to speak.
He always had to be polite to the two-book seniors, and he could never let his guard down before the three-book seniors.
And that was it. It might sound surprising, but Poi found the 2nd-rank seniors the scariest and the 3rd-rank seniors the most tiring; he had no particular feelings about those of the 4th or 5th rank.
It was like how a private fears his fellow soldiers or the officers he deals with face-to-face, not the generals with stars on their shoulders he never even sees.
But now?
The 2nd-rank mages who usually played mean tricks on him and the 3rd-rank mages who were as frightening as grim reapers were nowhere to be seen.
The only ones present were the impossibly high-ranking mages of four books or more.
In a way, it was only natural. The floor Poi was on was a place where no one below the 4th rank was even permitted to set foot.
If he could, Poi would have fled back down to his original floor in a heartbeat, but that was impossible.
Because no one had told him, “Your guidance is complete, you may return now.”
No, in the first place, not a single mage there was paying him any mind.
“Has it been about three hours since they went in? Good grief, to think something like this would happen in the Tower of Foresight.”
“For outsiders to turn the tower upside down like this… it’s truly unprecedented.”
“Since the Tower Head allowed it, there must be some meaning to it. Hmm.”
The heat that had boiled over from the various materials Dorothea had scattered had somewhat subsided, and the mages, having regained some of their composure, were gathered in small groups, talking amongst themselves.
Some had secluded themselves in their workshops, saying they needed to analyze the data Dorothea had distributed in detail, but more than half of the 4th-rank mages were still spending their time in front of the Secret Library.
This was because the Tower Head himself was still guarding the entrance.
The Tower Head, Medir Geldnir, a man with a cold and sharp impression, silently stared into the library where Dorothea’s party had disappeared, his eyes unreadable.
Beside him was Rapunzel, who anxiously watched the library while tightly clutching a rope the same color as her hair.
Amidst the seemingly endless wait, the most senior of the 4th-rank mages stepped forward and addressed the Tower Head.
“Tower Head, perhaps you should stop waiting here yourself. If any changes occur, we will report to you immediately.”
There was little force behind his words, “we will report to you.”
It sounded like a mere formality, spoken without any real belief that they would ever return.
His gaze was fixed on the rope in Rapunzel’s hands.
The rope, which had been pulled taut when Dorothea’s party first entered, was now hanging limp.
As if the other end had been severed.
Rapunzel felt a surge of anxiety.
She hadn’t been with the party for very long, but they were her saviors. And though they were oddballs, they weren’t bad people.
Knowing she was merely an outsider and a guest here, Rapunzel was about to ask them to wait just a little longer when…
Medir muttered something incomprehensible.
“…In a story, the concept is what’s important. As long as the sentence ‘They began their journey with a rope leading to the outside’ is established, what actually happens to the rope afterward doesn’t much matter.”
Neither Rapunzel nor the 4th-rank mages understood his meaning and could only tilt their heads in confusion.
RUUUUMBLE!
It was then that the entire library began to shake with a tremendous roar, as if an earthquake had struck.
Crack! Craaack!
The more intense the vibrations became, the more sounds of something shattering echoed from all corners of the library.
“Wh-whoa!?”
“The-the spatial magic is breaking!!”
The walls and ceiling narrowed until only the library itself remained, then in the next instant, they shot so far away one would have to crane their neck back completely to see the top.
A perfectly upright bookshelf suddenly flipped upside down, and a desk and chair vanished only to reappear abruptly in mid-air.
The gap between bookshelves widened enough for ten carriages to pass through, and in the next moment, it shrank so much that not even a single finger could fit.
As most of the mages present were highly skilled, they immediately understood just how dangerous the situation was.
Strictly speaking, this library was not part of the tower’s original dimensions, but a place akin to a different world.
So what would happen if its spatial magic collapsed?
What happens when you try to forcibly stuff more contents into a vessel that is already filled to its limit?
There were two likely outcomes.
Either the various objects contained within the library would be randomly ‘spat out’ all over the tower, or the library itself would be ‘ejected’ somewhere outside the tower entirely.
“S-start repairs! Stop the magic from collapsing any further!”
“It’s no use! The fissures are already too severe…!”
“We need to begin evacuation immediately!”
It was then, as the mages fell into chaos…
Fwoosh!
The Tower Head Geldnir, who had produced a staff at some point, brandished it, and the wildly rampaging space within the library suddenly grew calm.
“Hah.”
Those who realized what magic he had used let out a gasp.
Instead of trying to repair the collapsing spatial magic, Geldnir had simply layered a new spell over it.
While the other mages were trying to hold the tearing box together with their hands or slap on layers of tape, he had simply placed the old box inside a new one, preventing the contents from spilling out.
The mages all looked at Geldnir with eyes full of respect, but the man himself didn't seem to think it was a big deal.
Compared to the Witch of the North, who had cast a single spell during the tower’s founding that had maintained itself automatically for hundreds of years, this was nothing more than a cheap trick.
KRA-BOOOOM!
The ever-growing fissures finally reached their limit, and a blinding flash of light and a violent wind reminiscent of a storm assaulted the library.
After the light and wind ceased amidst cries of alarm and screams…
The mages could only stare, wide-eyed, at the scene before them.
Bookshelves and their contents had been flung against the walls as if swept up by the wind.
And on the floor of the empty space created by the displaced shelves lay a dozen unconscious people.
There was also a single grimoire, looking a mess as if it had been dropped in a puddle of black oil, and Dorothea’s party, who were looking down at it with displeasure.
Everyone was too stunned to speak, until Medir stepped forward and asked.
“—I’m glad to see you’ve returned safely. Now, would you care to explain the situation?”
*
Stimulation is, by its nature, a relative thing.
You can elicit a violent reaction from someone who has never eaten anything spicy in their life with just a single small chili, but give the same thing to someone whose mouth is already numb from eating tons of spicy food, and you’ll only get a lukewarm response.
In that sense, the tower had become incredibly desensitized to stimulation over the past few days.
The fortune-teller commotion, the restoration of the relic, and the incident where mysterious outsiders brazenly visited the tower and scattered all sorts of rare materials.
Thanks to this series of stimuli, the mages’ threshold for shock had risen considerably, and they now had the composure to brush off most incidents with indifference.
To be precise, that’s what they thought until Dorothea’s party returned from the library.
Until the library, one of the tower’s treasures, was thrown into chaos and the spatial magic cast by the Witch of the North was shattered.
The mages’ reactions were split into two main camps.
“They must be punished severely at once!”
“That’s right! It’s only because the Tower Head responded in time that a major disaster was averted!”
“The Secret Library and the magic cast upon it were relics symbolizing the origin of our tower! They must pay the price for destroying it!”
The first group was the one that condemned Dorothea’s party.
“Your words are too harsh. Punishment?”
“Are they not here as our guests? We can’t simply ignore their responsibility, but we must refrain from excessive measures.”
“They rescued no small number of mages. Among them are some who have been missing for decades. They have performed a great service, and you speak of punishment? Are you in your right mind?”
The second was the group that defended Dorothea’s party.
The voices calling for punishment were louder and more numerous, but the faction defending them was not small either.
The fact that several mages, long thought dead, had been confined within the library as ‘waiting characters’ and were freed when that world was shattered had a significant impact.
Their former classmates and pupils now considered Dorothea’s party their saviors and sought to repay them, and even those with no direct connection voiced opinions like, “Still, they saved mages from our tower, isn’t punishment a bit much?”
There was a third faction, amazed and eager to analyze how spatial magic and grimoires had combined to create a world and how those trapped inside had returned in the same state as when they entered, but they were too engrossed in their own research to make their voices heard.
“Well, that’s the general state of public opinion. What are your thoughts?”
“Not interested.”
“Whatever’s fine.”
Dorothea and Gale replied to Medir’s question in unison.
Dorothea scowled, clearly displeased by this, but Gale was delighted that they were in sync.
Either way, it wasn’t a proper response to show the head of a magic tower, but Medir seemed to take it in stride.
“Since we can’t easily reach a consensus, we’ve decided to settle this matter through the regular debate assembly. It will probably take about three weeks to process everything. However, it’s unlikely you’ll actually be punished. The beneficiaries of this incident, the rescued mages, are still disoriented, but once they’ve adjusted to reality, they will surely try to help you.”
“Three weeks? Don’t be ridiculous.”
Dorothea snapped, as if the very idea was absurd.
It wasn’t just her words; she radiated an intent so strong it was palpable—if they stood in her way, she would force her way through.
Medir gazed at Dorothea with his unreadable eyes.
“This is the tradition and procedure of the Tower of Foresight. If you ignore it, even those who wish to defend you will be put in an awkward position and forced to quiet their voices. Conversely, if you just follow the procedure, you could become our benefactors. And yet, you still can’t wait?”
The four great towers that ruled the Magic State.
A choice between making an enemy of one of them or earning their goodwill.
Any ordinary person would naturally choose the latter, but right now, time was more precious to Dorothea than any such goodwill.
“Finding the Witch of the North is more urgent for me right now.”
“I don’t mind waiting, but… I have to fulfill my duty as the loser and guide Dorothea to my master. My apologies, Lord Geldnir.”
Their answers were firm, leaving no room for negotiation.
Tension filled the reception room, and the mages around the Tower Head were about to assume combat stances when…
“I see. Then you may leave.”
His voice was dry, devoid of any humor, yet it held no chill.
Surprised by Medir’s response, Dorothea blinked.
“That’s unexpected. I thought you’d stubbornly lecture us or something.”
“It’s true that the Tower of Foresight values tradition and is old-fashioned. I wasn’t much different before I became the Tower Head.”
With a business-like expression, like that of a civil servant, Medir continued.
“But once I became the Tower Head, I found I couldn’t just stick to principles. If we don’t engage in any external activities, how will we cover the tower’s operating costs? How will we negotiate with the other towers? If we were a pure research institution, perhaps, but to also serve as a ruler, a certain degree of flexibility is essential. For instance, by avoiding fights that seem likely to result in nothing but losses.”
“You’ve got a silver tongue.”
Dorothea let out a dry laugh.
It was true that her party was powerful, but there were limits to what they could do against sheer numbers.
They could handle a large but unskilled band of bandits, but taking on one of the four magic towers head-on and winning was impossible.
“Losing even a tenth of the tower’s mages would be an incalculable loss. In reality, it would be worse. Rather than endure that damage, it’s a hundred times better to accommodate you and listen to the complaints. It would be even better if I could use this opportunity to retire. Once I pass the position to the loudest one of them, he’ll also learn just how troublesome this seat is.”
And with that, the negotiation was over.
Dorothea’s party would ‘arbitrarily’ escape, and the Tower Head would ‘accidentally’ let them get away.
There would be much to deal with afterward, but travelers, by their nature, rarely look back.