The High Priest's Intrusion
The man with playfully twinkling purple eyes flashed a brilliant smile. He was draped in a dull gray robe symbolizing a low-rank mage. The mages in this research lab knew each other's faces inside out from seeing them so often. Yet this was a face none of them recognized.
"Ah, I've been caught."
The man pulled back the hood that had been hiding his face. A long cross-shaped earring dangling from his right ear jingled softly. Soft beige hair, purple eyes like glittering jewels. There was something oddly familiar about him.
A inexplicable sense of déjà vu made the low-rank mages shudder.
"W-Who are you?"
"What faction are you from? How dare you barge into someone else's research lab?"
Even as the mages pressed him, the man's expression remained utterly relaxed. He even spoke to the one who'd been spreading rumors just moments ago in a brazen tone.
"Don't be so stiff about it. Come on? Keep going with your story."
"No, why should I tell you...? Do you even know who...?"
The flustered mage trailed off as the man winked at him with one eye.
"Tell me, and I'll share something good with you in return."
"S-Something good?"
"Yeah."
The man nodded. Then he pointed a finger right at the mage.
"I'll grant you a revelation."
"Huh?"
The mage let out a deflating sound, as if the man had spouted some nonsense about ghosts eating birdseed, but the intruder remained unfazed.
"I'm serious. My revelations are spot-on. You'll be coming to find me again soon enough."
He was so brazen it was almost admirable. Yet there was an eerie atmosphere that made it hard to just laugh it off.
The low-rank mages hesitated to speak, swallowing hard in silence.
"Lord Vincent!"
A pleasant youthful voice called out to the man. The low-rank mages and the intruder turned toward a boy.
He wore a brown robe marking him as an apprentice mage. Seeing the boy, the man—Vincent—clicked his tongue.
"Ah, darn. Already busted."
"So you were here."
The boy approached the mages and bowed politely.
"H-Hmph."
"G-Guess he was the master's guest."
The low-rank mages mumbled half-hearted greetings and scattered to the edges of the room. Vincent's eyes curved playfully.
"It's been a while, Ren."
"...Yes. It's been a long time."
Ren Magicus, disciple of the Magic Tower Master, bowed his head. He'd been waiting at the agreed warp point since hearing that Vincent, the vice high priest, was visiting today. But time had dragged on, so he'd come searching himself.
Ren was sensitive to mana, so he'd tracked the traces easily—but an ordinary mage wouldn't have managed it. Who would've thought he'd steal a low-rank mage's robe and wander around like that? The man was as elusive as ever.
Ren spoke in a reluctant tone.
"My master is waiting."
"Hmm? Can't he wait a bit longer? It's not like he has anything pressing."
"...Lord Vincent."
Ren's heart raced with anxiety—what if these two started fighting again?
Oblivious to Ren's worry, Vincent glanced around the lab, chattering away.
"I haven't been here in ages. Can't I take a look around?"
"B-But we can't just show outsiders..."
"Hey, am I an outsider? I'm Magic Tower alumni, you know."
"......"
That was before you joined the temple! Ren couldn't bring himself to say it. That would just advertise it to all the mages sneaking peeks.
Leaving the flustered Ren behind, Vincent rummaged through the lab.
"Oh, what's this? Orichalcum? Why are you researching this?"
"L-Lord Vincent, please..."
"Trying to find a substitute for magic stones? That's intriguing."
Vincent's eyes sparkled as he reached out—just then, his hand froze midair over the orichalcum on the workbench. A cold voice cut through the air.
"That's enough."
"...Brother."
Benjamin, the Magic Tower Master, frowned as he glared at Vincent.
Vincent ignored the stare and opened his mouth.
"This welcome's a bit much, don't you think? Care to release me?"
"Stop fooling around. You still think this is your personal playground?"
Benjamin glanced around. The mages were buzzing at the sight of the Tower Master descending to this level.
Tch. He snapped his fingers.
Snap!
The scenery shifted in an instant.
"Ah, it's been a while. Nice to be back here."
The top floor of the Magic Tower. The Tower Master's private quarters. Vincent stood in the center, grinning.
He was still as bizarre, whimsical, and unpredictable as ever.
"...Ren, you can go now."
"Yes, Master."
Ren bowed and slipped out, gauging the mood.
Vincent furrowed his brow in mock disappointment.
"I wanted to chat more with your disciple."
"......"
"Why? He's my disciple too, isn't he?"
"Don't talk nonsense."
"So rigid. Between us brothers."
Benjamin stared at Vincent's brazen face. Long hair a shade lighter than his own millet color, vivid purple eyes shining brightly. A face so similar it was like looking in a mirror.
"No matter how much you deny it, we're still brothers."
"Shut up."
Benjamin had once thought of him as a brother too—before Vincent broke his arm to shove him aside while trying to leave the tower.
The previous Tower Master had two disciples: Benjamin, the current master, and his older brother standing before him, Vincent Wall.
The predecessor had intended Vincent as the next master. And Benjamin had agreed—it was only natural. Vincent excelled in every way.
But on the eve of the succession ceremony, Vincent abruptly abandoned it all. He'd even unleashed ruthless magic to pry Benjamin off him.
That broken arm still ached sometimes, yet here Vincent was, acting shameless as ever.
"By the way, I heard some nasty rumors circulating in the tower."
"......"
"That's why you called me, right?"
Vincent tilted his head, his cross earring jingling.
He'd betrayed the tower for the temple, yet he wore the symbol of the Ido Church so casually.
Benjamin looked away. He loathed Vincent like this, but without his help, he couldn't protect the tower, his disciple, or the world.
Benjamin clenched his fist.
"A prisoner in the Rune Prison was murdered."
"Oh?"
"Using a senior mage, no less."
Surprise flickered across Vincent's face for the first time.
"A senior mage? One of the Tower Master's inner circle?"
"...Yes."
"Brother. That's impossible."
Vincent continued in a mock-pedagogical tone.
"Breaching the Rune Prison? Fine, maybe. But controlling a senior mage? That's divine territory. Something neither you nor I could do."
Vincent, the former heir and current vice high priest. No one on the continent could pull off what even he and Benjamin couldn't.
Benjamin turned to him, his voice low and heavy.
"What about using a holy relic?"
Vincent, leaning against the wall, chuckled playfully.
"Suspecting the temple now?"
"More precisely, you."
"Hmm, that stings."
His tone and expression showed no hurt at all as Vincent replied.
"I have no reason to threaten the tower. I'm not that villainous."
"......"
True, Vincent was an eccentric, but not some tower-destroying fiend. He had no grudge against the Carpoem Ducal House in the north either.
Benjamin let out a deep sigh, one he'd been heaving often lately.
"You stuff your body full of weird crap, yet you talk a good game."
"Haha, you noticed?"
Vincent laughed delightedly and spun around.
"It's not weird. It's a stigmata."
"Why the hell would you put that in you?"
"Mm, to feel God's love?"
"...You mad bastard."
Blue light flickered in one of Benjamin's eyes as he scowled. Vincent sidled closer with a sly grin, his finger brushing near Benjamin's eye.
"Anyone else might miss it, but this is a shame to waste. That piercing insight that sees through everything."
"Don't touch me."
Benjamin slapped Vincent's hand away roughly. Yet Vincent seemed unfazed, his face cheerful.
"Relax. Holy relics need a saintess's power to activate. But she hasn't been officially recognized yet."
The holy relic in the Lumine Temple. Vessels of divine power could only be wielded by God's chosen.
The continent's saintess hadn't been formally enthroned.
"She's out on her pilgrimage and hasn't returned."
"I see."
This gave them alibis against the suspicious.
"Anyone else?"
"Hmm, not really."
The brothers put their heads together, but no one came to mind. Since their mentor, the previous Tower Master, had passed, no one rivaled them.
"The Carpoem Duke was ill, and the emperor's too dim for that."
Vincent muttered, counting on his fingers. Benjamin asked in a low voice.
"Ever heard of the Demonic?"
"...Demonic?"
Vincent's eyes widened, his fingers frozen mid-count. He tilted his head with a teasing lilt.
"Since when are you into scripture?"
The Demonic. The cursed demon from the Lumine scriptures. Once beloved by God, it sinned and was cast into the abyss, becoming hell's ruler. A tale from before humanity, recorded only in holy texts—its very existence questionable. Amusing that the rational, philosophical Tower Master would mention it.
"It's not that. But..."
"But?"
"...The controlled senior mage's last words were that."
"Ah."
Vincent nodded. There was a group operating under that name. Their leader was likely on par with—or above—them. Realizing this, Vincent frowned.
"I know nothing."
"Figures."
"I'll look into it at the temple."
In the end, summoning Vincent yielded no leads. Benjamin sighed wearily.
What do I tell Abigail?
He hadn't contacted her yet amid her busyness, but his vision was already darkening.
As Vincent prepared to leave, he tossed out casually.
"Oh, right. About this new saintess being enthroned."
"...Why bring up the saintess?"
Benjamin raised an eyebrow at the random topic. He couldn't care less about some saintess.
Vincent met his gaze and grinned slyly.
"She's from the Florence family."
"Flo...rence?"
"Yeah. Mortal enemies with Carpoem."
"...!"
"If she ties with the imperial family, it'll be huge. This time, the Carpoem Ducal House is done for."
Vincent's hand pressed Benjamin's shoulder. A subtle malice seeped through. Yet his tone was utterly relaxed.
"So think it over. For the tower's future, too."
"......"
Those purple eyes seemed to pierce everything, insight sharp without any special gift. Staring into eyes identical to his own, Benjamin swallowed hard.