The Forbidden Scent
In the end, Luden swept everything out of the laboratory.
The process wasn't without its hiccups—the capacity of his inventory pocket filled to bursting and gave him no small trouble—but he managed to carry every last item out in the end.
"This should be enough, don't you think?"
"Wha— what in the..."
Basel couldn't close his gaping mouth.
His eyes were locked on the items Luden had brought back: the materials needed for the research he'd requested the other day. Some were things he had asked for; others were ones he'd abandoned as impossible to obtain.
With trembling hands, Basel checked the ingredients one by one.
"Ohh! Top-grade magic stones! And could this be—basilisk bone powder?"
His eyes lit up at the rare ingredients and catalysts he rarely so much as glimpsed in an ordinary year.
He had certainly made the request, but he'd never truly believed Luden could come through.
And no wonder—magic materials weren't the sort of thing money alone could buy. Most rare ingredients existed only in strictly limited quantities, and even those had to be wrested away through cutthroat competition among the magic towers.
How on earth did he—?!'
Yet Luden had actually gotten them.
In hardly any time at all, no less. Even the Vivre Magic Tower of old couldn't have assembled this much in a matter of days.
Then he felt a gaze on him.
Luden was watching him steadily, the corner of his mouth curled up.
Only then did Basel realize how thoroughly he'd lost himself.
"Ahem. It seems I got rather carried away."
"Not at all."
At the sight of the old man sheepishly setting the items down, Luden chuckled.
Good thing I grabbed only the relevant things.
He had packed up everything except anything connected to black magic and the spellbooks—and that, it turned out, had been exactly the right call.
Assuming that settled the matter, Luden asked,
"So with this, you can complete the research?"
"Er, well. You see, the thing is..."
But the answer that came back was nothing like what he'd expected.
Basel, who he'd assumed would dash off to his research that very instant, was oddly hesitating, glancing at Luden's face as he spoke.
"T-the truth is, there's still something missing."
"I'm sorry? I brought nearly everything you mentioned last time."
"That's just it—I never dreamed you'd actually bring them, you see? So I didn't mention it..."
Whatever few gaps remained could be substituted with something else, or he could simply ask Hugo to procure them.
But the words that followed made Luden frown despite himself.
"The single most important material for completing the research—I haven't settled on it yet."
"The crux lies in computing the coordinates and forging a passage that bridges the two dimensions. In truth, no one has ever managed that much—but with the materials you've brought, that part should be settled quickly enough."
"Then what's the problem?"
"The real difficulty is that there's no suitable material to be found."
The coordinates of sub-space shifted under countless variables, each one demanding consideration. Render all of it into formulae and weave it into a magic circle, and the sheer volume of information became nothing short of astronomical.
"Any middling material would fail to endure it at the engraving stage and burst apart on the spot."
"We can't make do with what's here?"
"I'm afraid not."
On this point, there could be no compromise. If an accident set the material off, the explosion could tear space itself apart.
Come to think of it, the sub-space transmission artifact unveiled in the future had usage limits too.
Lunvel Magic Tower had likely never solved this problem either.
After all, they had done nothing but steal Basel's research wholesale.
"We need a material strong enough to survive the engraving itself."
"What about mithril, or bluesteel?"
"Those are plenty strong, but their mana conductivity is far too high. For a simple magic circle, perhaps—but for one as intricate and precise as this, they'd do more harm than good."
"Hmm."
Basel's explanation gave Luden a clear sense of just how serious the problem was.
But that didn't mean he could see any way around it. Even in the future, neither Basel nor Lunvel had managed it...
Wait. Now that I think of it.
At the thought that struck him out of nowhere, Luden began rummaging through his inventory pocket.
"What about this?"
"Hmm? What's that, then?"
When Luden held out a black stone shard that looked like a fragment of something, Basel accepted it with a strange expression, if only for the moment.
"Obsidian? No... not quite. Has something been added to it?"
He held the shard up to the lamplight and studied it for a long while—then abruptly, both eyes went wide.
And then he urgently called for his disciple in the next room.
"Marin! You rascal, get in here this instant!"
"Yes? But I'm in the middle of boiling water—"
"Ah, that can wait. Come now, this instant!"
At Basel's urging, Marin came stomping in amid a thunderous clatter, wearing a look of pure grievance.
"Haah. Master, are your hysterics flaring up again?"
"Never mind that. Take a look at this."
"Yes?"
Shown the black shard, Marin reacted exactly as Basel just had.
At first, puzzled.
"Hmmm? What is this?"
Turning the shard this way and that with a peculiar expression.
"Wha— wait. Could it be?"
Before long, eyes gone wide as saucers, he looked back and forth between the shard and his master.
Reading the meaning in that look, Basel nodded.
"Master. This is...?"
"Go and prepare at once."
"Right away."
Bulk notwithstanding, Marin sprinted off at a remarkable clip.
Not a trace of his usual bumbling self remained.
As Luden stood bewildered by this first-ever glimpse of the man, Basel said briefly,
"Best to confirm it first, I should think. Wait here a moment, will you?"
"Yes?"
Then he, too, vanished, and Luden, left alone, wore an unreadable expression.
Basel came back a full hour later. He strode up to Luden, face flushed with excitement, and demanded point-blank:
"Where on earth did you get that thing?!"
"You mean this?"
"That! That very thing! That black shard!"
"Ah, I happened to pick it up somewhere."
"Picked it up? That?"
"Yes."
What Luden had handed Basel was none other than a shard of the throne once used by Lich Krief.
It had originally served to house the Life Vessel, and since it hadn't vanished along with the collapsing dungeon, he had simply pocketed it.
Basel, his excitement undimmed, said,
"A monumental discovery. The strength goes without saying—and even after letting it absorb mana for hours on end, its properties haven't shifted in the slightest. With this, the magic circle's engraving just might hold!"
"Glad to hear it."
"How does such a substance even exist? Its basic composition resembles obsidian, yet its hardness is an entirely different matter. And with several other elements mixed in—no, wait, even so, with this arrangement, it would have to count as an entirely new mineral..."
Before he knew it, Basel had begun muttering to himself, and Luden simply watched in silence.
Naturally, he understood not a word of it; he gathered only, in broad strokes, that what he'd handed over was something rather important.
So it wasn't just an ordinary rock after all.
For a mage of Basel's renown to work himself into such a state, it was clearly no everyday trinket.
Left alone, Basel would sink into his own thoughts indefinitely, so Luden cut in and asked,
"In any case, this solves it, then?"
"Well, yes. Though the quantity is a touch short."
At the pointed look aimed his way, Luden answered with a knowing grin of his own.
"No need to worry. I have more."
Fragments still remained in his inventory pocket.
That lich certainly gave with an open hand.
Truly.
When Luden returned to the inn, an unexpected visitor was waiting for him.
"Would you be Sir Luden Kaisar?"
"I am."
Despite the honorific, there was unmistakable authority in the eyes of the man studying him.
"There is someone inside who wishes to meet you. I would ask that you spare a moment of your time."
Beneath the courteous words lay a clear message: refusal would not be permitted.
Luden turned his gaze toward the carriage parked across the front of the inn.
It was a carriage wrought with ornamentation lavish enough to suggest nobility rode within.
Curtains hung over the windows, hiding the interior from view.
Someone wants a look at me.
Worrying over who it might be at this point would be a fool's errand.
And no wonder—after making such a conspicuous spectacle of himself, there was no way the other side didn't know of him.
Meeting the man's eyes, Luden boarded the carriage.
And then—
"So. You're the young pup who's been getting along so cozily with that old codger Basel of late."
The owner of the low, resonant voice was a middle-aged man with an imperious cast of face.
Even in the darkness of the carriage, his sharply glinting gaze bored into Luden as if to see straight through him.
It was their first meeting, yet Luden knew at a glance who he was.
The dark blue-black hair. The mana that carried a chill of frost.
Above all, those imperious eyes.
Just as I'd heard. To think he'd come in person.
Luden deliberately kept his face composed and took his seat.
In that instant, the man's eyebrows twitched.
"Not even startled. Do you know who I am?"
"How could I? Though if you'd care to introduce yourself, I would be honored to listen."
"Audacious fellow."
He gave a scornful snort, then said:
"The Tower Master of Lunvel Magic Tower, then."
The very man who had raised Lunvel—once a minor, second-rate tower—to the pinnacle of Vedia, and its master besides.
That was the true identity of the middle-aged man before him.
"Ugh."
In that instant, the aura pouring off Darkus swelled even fiercer, binding Luden where he sat.
Astonishingly, the mana radiating from him surpassed even the lich Luden had fought not long ago.
6-Star—no, at this level, a 7-Star mage.
As expected of the man who led a magic tower.
But Luden did not avert his eyes from Darkus's stare, meeting the pressure head-on.
Gooooo.
An atmosphere like a sheet of thin ice stretched between them.
Darkus pressed down on him slowly, as if testing his measure, and Luden hardened his gaze, determined not to yield.
After a long moment, it was Darkus who broke the suffocating silence.
"Hmph. So you're not merely some brat who doesn't know his place."
With those words, the crushing pressure vanished in an instant.
"A word of advice. Meddle no further with Basel and the Vivre Magic Tower."
"May I ask why?"
"An outsider like you has no need to know."
"I'm no outsider. Though it seems you're not yet aware—I am Basel's sponsor."
"Sponsor, you say?"
A flicker of surprise crossed Darkus's face.
He had known of Luden's existence, but he had never heard that Basel had repaid part of the borrowed money.
Charles, terrified of being chewed out, had deliberately never reported it.
Useless fool. He can't manage even so simple a task?
Irritation welled up in him.
With so little time remaining, and the man couldn't even do his one job properly.
Just then, Luden spoke.
"Then I have a question of my own. Why does Lunvel concern itself with Vivre Magic Tower?"
"You whelp. Mind that tongue. You think I concern myself with some tower rotting into ruin?"
Genuine displeasure radiated from Darkus as he said it.
But Luden saw another emotion hidden behind that expression.
Something clinging, and utterly gloomy...
"If you will not heed my words, this conversation is over. In the end, you are every bit as great a fool as that man."
"...I'll take your advice to heart."
Something in those words gnawed at him, but the man clearly had no intention of talking further.
Nothing for it, then.
Luden reluctantly rose from his seat—then, remembering something, put one final question to Darkus.
"By the way—do you happen to wear perfume?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Nothing. Only that you seem to carry a very fine scent."
"..."
Darkus ignored the inane question.
Luden hadn't truly expected an answer anyway, and stepped down from the carriage.
"Then."
The carriage rolled away.
A short meeting, but a searing one.
"Phew. Nearly scared me to death."
He had forced his composure, but his guts had turned to ice water.
Who would have imagined the Tower Master of Lunvel would come in person, just to deliver a warning?
It was entirely unexpected.
And yet.
Should I call this a coincidence?
If his nose hadn't deceived him, the fragrance that had filled that carriage was—
The forbidden perfume.