BSS 123

chapter 123

The Mage Tower in this world was unusually tall, reaching 20 or 30 floors.

It was safe to say that the tallest building in the city was the Mage Tower.

Because it stood out so much, it was usually easy to find. For me, though, that didn’t seem to help…

I could see the pointed building in the distance, but every path I took ended in a dead end. I felt trapped in a maze.

Damn it.

I didn’t want to admit I had no sense of direction, so I wandered alone until the sun was high in the sky. Then I finally called Undine to guide me to the Mage Tower.

It had been about two hours since leaving the inn.

The inn clerk had said it would take only fifteen minutes to reach the tower—so this was strange.

“Thank you, Undine.”

[No trouble at all.]

Only with Undine’s help could I finally stand in front of the hexagram symbol, the emblem of the Mage Tower.

If Rie were here, I wouldn’t have gotten lost like this. Unfortunately, I had left Eini behind. Ashe’s group was still asleep, and there was no one to watch over her.

Undine waved her small hand lightly before disappearing.

I waved back and entered the first floor of the Mage Tower, which was wide open. The interior was much more spacious and tidy than it appeared from the outside. Perhaps it was a space-expanding spell?

“Welcome.”

The public area of the tower felt a bit like a post office to me.

The upper floors might be different, but the sections open to the general public were for communication services.

“How can I help you?”

As I approached the front desk, the clerk, scribbling something, looked up. She seemed unmotivated. The Mage Tower was infamous for poor service.

“I’d like to use the communication magic.”

“For telegrams, fill out a form over there and pay in advance. If you want delivery, write the address accurately. You’ll need to find and write the code number yourself.”

“And for video communication?”

“Have you checked the price?”

“How much?”

“For fifteen minutes, this much.”

Her tone implied, are you really going to use this?

Following her finger, I looked at the posted prices. Indeed, it was shocking. An extra zero must have been added.

200 silver instead of 20 silver? That’s 2 gold. For commoners, one month’s living expenses was 1 gold. Definitely the most expensive plan.

“Expensive, isn’t it? No discounts. And if you use it for over 30 minutes, there’s a 20% extra charge.”

“No discount at all?”

“The mages can’t handle more. It’s physically taxing.”

Video communication meant the mage personally cast a one-on-one spell for you, and these mages were among the most expensive in the continent.

“This is the base rate. Additional charges depend on distance. Waiting time, magic tax, city tax, and luxury tax also apply.”

“Wow, that’s expensive.”

“Right? Just use a telegram…”

“But I have plenty of money. I’ll use it in ten minutes, so please prepare it.”

After all, I was a woman with gold coins to spare. That’s why I made Rie give me so much money this morning!

While connecting the video communication to Drike Academy, I filled out the telegram forms.

I needed to send messages to five places: my family home, Iruze, Mia, Bright, and Master Iel.

I could make a video call to my family, but the Crowell household was rural and underdeveloped. No Mage Tower, and no resident mage capable of communication magic.

The Crowell household had five maids—maybe fewer?—and no butler, so it was a modest home.

The telegram for my family was long; the messages to friends were short:

[To my friends. I. J. alive. Freed. Returning. Really. J. Don’t cry.]

The telegram used the cheapest form of communication magic in the tower, similar to Morse code. Only certain words could be used, and the longer the message, the higher the cost.

I kept my message to friends brief simply out of laziness.

“Let’s see… address…”

Sending to Master Iel was easy: the Dmitri Royal Palace Spirit Council. Bright also worked through the palace tower. Mia and Iruze could be reached via the Academy.

Finding the code number for large areas was easy. The problem was my family home.

No matter how much I searched the directory, Crowell Barony didn’t appear. It was tiny, but there should at least be a mailbox. Code numbers usually existed per village.

“Excuse me, I can’t find a code number.”

“Where? In very undeveloped areas, it might not exist. If it’s too far from the tower, delivery won’t work.”

The clerk waved dismissively, as if this happened all the time.

I had never sent telegrams home before, so for a moment, I thought it truly couldn’t be done.

Then I remembered the stack of letters in my Academy drawer.

“It’s still a noble domain—surely there’s a code. Letters arrive just fine.”

“Really? If letters get through, telegrams should too. Where did you say?”

“Crowell Barony, Dmitri Kingdom.”

“Wait a moment.”

The clerk went into a backroom, returning a few minutes later with thick documents. Her expression was positive—good news.

“It exists. The address is the same, but the title has changed.”

“The title?”

“It recently changed. You searched the barony? That’s no longer correct.”

The news made me uneasy. Hopefully the family hadn’t collapsed in my absence. Could they not even pay for my funeral?

“Crowell Barony was promoted to a county. Look at that! A huge promotion. In two years as a communication clerk, I’ve rarely seen this… oh, that’s it!”

“That?”

“In Elan…”

“Video communication ready.”

The red door next to the counter swung open, and a tired-looking mage in robes appeared. Since I was the only customer, he simply gestured me inside.

“It’ll connect in a minute. Please enter the room.”

He looked like he was in his late thirties, weary of life, and impatient to wait.

The clerk grabbed my forms and said:

“All other details are filled? Give them here and go. I’ll finish it up for you.”

Perhaps because I had already paid, or because the mage stared sternly, she became unexpectedly friendly.

I was nudged toward the communication room. Something important seemed to be missing from my preparations.

The room I entered was the principal’s office at Drike Academy, packed with books.

Peaceful, with only the rustle of papers and pen on parchment.

Suddenly, someone knocked loudly on the door, shattering the quiet.

“Come in.”

The principal lifted his head from a stack of documents, setting his pen down. His white hair and deep wrinkles spoke of his age.

The assistant rushed in, unusually flustered. Even when the dining hall fire happened, he wasn’t like this.

“Principal! A big… no, it’s good! But, I mean… this is…”

“What’s the matter?”

“It’s good news…”

“Speak clearly.”

“No, it’s urgent! Let’s go to the communication room. Communication! Someone is calling!”

The assistant hurriedly tried to lead the principal out, but the principal hesitated, confused by the chaotic behavior.

“Communication? From whom? Did His Majesty summon you?”

“No. From Jenny Crowell.”

The principal looked as if he’d been hit in the back of the head.

“…Who?”

“From Miss Crowell…!”

Half-dragged, the principal tripped over his stacks of books and fell flat.

The normally quiet office was filled with the sounds of falling books and chairs.

He glared, seemingly unaware he was face-down on the floor.

“What do you mean! How can someone dead—”

“We connected!”

“Dead—”

“She’s alive!”

Documents flew from the desk in the commotion.

Startled, the principal’s monocle fell off, dangling from its chain under his chin.

For a moment, nothing else moved.

“Gah!”

Catching his breath, the principal resumed movement. The assistant’s pale face looked ready to faint.

“You must go to the communication room! She’s been waiting ten minutes already!”

“You should’ve said so sooner, you fool!”

“I ran as fast as I could after hearing the news!”

“Good heavens…!”

It was a twenty-minute walk for a normal pace, five minutes for a run.

Flustered, the principal shoved the fallen monocle into his robes and pulled up the hem to his knees.

“This isn’t the time! Let’s go! Move!”

He dashed through the hallway, surprisingly spry for his age, hardly the calm, graceful figure of a swan he usually appeared.

By the time he reached the communication room, his breath was ragged.

The young mage operating the communication orb was startled by the principal barging in.

“Principal!”

“Jenny! Where’s Jenny Crowell?”

The principal pushed aside the young mage and grabbed the orb, but nothing appeared—just residual heat showing a connection had been made.

“She just said you were busy and would contact later… she ended the connection! She disconnected!”

“Why wasn’t I informed sooner!”

The mage cowered into his collar, tiny under the principal’s fury.

“She… uh… a young woman I’ve never seen called, demanding to connect to you. No prior appointment, no explanation… rude attitude… filtering such calls is my job.”

“You don’t know Jenny Crowell?!”

“I’m sorry! I’ve never seen her face!”

“Oh dear, oh dear…!”

“She said the name Jenny Crowell… I thought it was a prank. I nearly hung up, thinking it a false name, until a passing senior confirmed it was real.”

The assistant caught the principal, who trembled in fear and age.

“Any… remaining message?”

“She said she’d call again tomorrow or the day after… Sorry, it came suddenly, and we were unprepared. Ah! But we know where the communication originated!”

“Where?!”