Chapter 49
“Greetings, Count Jaycal.”
The group politely greeted the elderly man.
“Viscount Diaman. Baron Bronu. Welcome. And…”
“It’s been a while.”
“How have you been?”
“You’ve aged faster than you did when you were still in the Magic Tower.”
“The Tower Master hasn’t changed a bit.”
It seemed Count Jaycal had once been the Tower Master’s disciple. That thought crossed her mind just as she turned her head—
“……”
The members of the Jaycal family standing behind the Count were staring at them with wide, gleaming eyes.
Then the family head of House Jaycal began in a calm, low voice.
“It’s a shame we couldn’t have you serve in our family.”
That must have been the signal—because immediately after, everyone behind him started chiming in one by one.
“This time would’ve been the perfect opportunity to solve one of the great problems in magic studies. Why did you avoid it?”
“I recently discovered a flaw in the existing magic formula…”
“You must be Lady Silia, right? I heard you’re capable of using the anti-attribute formula. Would you like to be a test subject—no, I mean, collaborate on—”
‘Yup. They’re real mad scientists. Absolutely obsessed with magic.’
Just as she was fending off the barrage of questions, someone suddenly blurted out something absurd.
“My lady, are you engaged? We have a marriage contract here under very favorable terms—”
Snap!
The one who reacted most sharply was Plier. Immediately, Acrla darted in and smacked the man’s hand away.
“Hey! No stealing someone else’s disciple!”
“Weren’t we all once the Tower Master’s disciples?”
“Graduates should find their own paths in life.”
With that, the Tower Master moved closer beside Silia. Plier too stepped forward, standing beside and slightly behind Silia as though guarding her. The Tower Master leaned in and whispered.
“As I told you before, don’t get caught up in their nonsense. Not that I’m worried about you, but still.”
“Bringing up marriage at a first meeting—that’s bold.”
“Bold? No, that’s just social incompetence.”
Come to think of it, she’d been hearing about engagements a lot since coming to the capital—Julien’s talk of betrothal with Plier, and now this. She didn’t remember ever being this popular as a potential spouse. The thought alone made her feel vaguely tired. The Tower Master spoke again, more seriously.
“Be careful. They’re basically hyenas.”
“Is that really necessary?”
“Well, not all of them, but you see… magical power tends to be inherited more strongly through the maternal line. Even Riman’s mother was quite a skilled mage.”
“……”
“So for them, an unmarried female mage with high magical power is like prime prey. Some of them even send me marriage proposals.”
That was a horrifying image. Silia narrowed her eyes and muttered.
“So, not respecting their elders—but attacking them.”
“Right? They’re like that. Proposing to a 150-year-old man wasn’t enough; now they’re after my young disciple…”
“We can hear you, Tower Master.”
“All right, all right. Everyone calm down.”
Only when Count Jaycal spoke up did the chaos finally subside.
“If anyone says one more word, I’ll cast a silence spell. My apologies, Tower Master.”
Their eyes were still gleaming unnervingly, but at least they were quiet.
“Well, since you’ve come to see my grandson, let’s start with that matter.”
“Of course.”
Following Count Jaycal’s lead, the three were guided deep into the mansion. Even as they walked the corridors, they were warned that several protective spells were active everywhere.
At last, they reached the innermost hidden room. Count Jaycal spoke calmly.
“This is it.”
“You’ve set up quite the security magic.”
“Still not rusty yet.”
After a polite nod, the Count turned and left.
“I thought for sure he’d come in with us.”
“He probably has an eavesdropping spell set up inside already.”
Acrla knocked on the door—and it opened on its own. A soft herbal scent drifted out; it must’ve been for calming the nerves.
“Welcome.”
On a wide bed that seemed too large for one person sat Riman Jaycal, greeting them.
“You look even thinner than before.”
“…My lady’s tongue is still as sharp as ever.”
“How’s your body?”
“Much better.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“Tower Master, and the person beside you is…?”
“Plier Diaman, Viscount of House Diaman. I wish you a swift recovery.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry I can’t stand to greet you properly.”
“You’re still recuperating. Please don’t strain yourself.”
Then Riman’s expression turned grave.
“But, Viscount… forgive me, but I’d like to speak privately with members of the Tower.”
“I understand.”
Plier bowed gracefully and left the room. A servant waiting outside immediately guided him away.
‘He could’ve insisted on staying, but no—he’s too polite for his own good.’
Riman gestured to the chairs beside the bed. Once they sat, he began speaking.
“First of all, thank you.”
“You’re talking to me?”
“…Yes.”
When she stared at him directly, he grew embarrassed and averted his gaze. Silia reached out and lifted his chin. His startled face met hers.
“If you’re going to thank someone, look them in the eye.”
“…Thank you. And I’m sorry.”
“Good. You sound sincere enough.”
She let go before his face turned redder. Riman fidgeted with his hands, then continued.
“It all started with that man. One day, he approached me out of nowhere, asking if I was interested in groundbreaking research.”
“How naïve. You actually believed that? You’ve got the perfect face for a scam victim.”
“Normally, I wouldn’t have fallen for it.”
“I doubt that.”
“…At first, I thought he was just a quack pharmacist, so I turned him down. But then he said he wanted to give me something special—and showed me a vial of liquid. He said it was the blood of a magical beast.”
“And you just accepted it because of that?”
“I was going to ignore him. But the moment he pressed the vial into my hand…”
Riman frowned as if recalling it.
“Something strange happened. The liquid inside seemed to… call to me. Now I understand—it must’ve been reacting to my magical energy.”
“Oh. That must’ve been quite fascinating for a scholar.”
“Yes. So I decided to take a small risk and expressed interest. Later, he called me again and handed it over, saying—‘Whoever tames this shall gain glory.’”
And after that, everything unfolded as they already knew. Acrla’s voice softened but carried firm authority.
“Curiosity is a good trait for a scholar. But next time, verify before you act.”
“I’m sorry.”
“The word tame bothers me,” Acrla murmured.
“Why?” Silia asked.
The Tower Master explained slowly.
“You’ve seen it yourself—the blood of a magical beast can create one.”
They all remembered how the blood had consumed Riman.
“The heart of a magical beast by itself is harmless. But when refined into blood, it can infect other things.”
“……”
“So to ‘tame’ the blood might mean to control the beast one creates. If possible, that would mean acquiring soldiers that regenerate almost endlessly.”
Silia’s expression grew grim.
“Did you ever see his face?”
“No. We always met in the dark, and he wore a black cloak that hid his face. The only unusual thing was… ah.”
“What?”
Riman furrowed his brow.
“He had a very slim build. Almost lean and wiry.”
Hearing that, Silia suddenly stood on her chair and drew a line in the air.
“About this tall?”
“How did you know? Yes, that’s right.”
“Hmm.”
She had her reason for asking. As soon as he said “slim,” one particular person came to mind.
‘That wiry guy fits that description exactly.’
One of Crown Princess’s two guards assigned to Crondel—the slimmer one. Since she’d made a deal with the bulky one, they shouldn’t be following the prince lately, which meant they were free. The Tower Master asked,
“Do you have someone in mind?”
“I’m not sure yet. Let me think on it.”
It was suspicious.
After all, even that scarecrow warlock had fled the palace, saying something strange was going on there. If the man who gave Riman the beast’s blood really was that wiry guard…
Then suspicion pointed directly at the Crown Princess.
‘And that means we can cross him off the suspect list—’
The golden-haired prince who loved magic enough to blow up the Tower. Since the Crown Princess was now the likely suspect, there was no reason to suspect him anymore—
Just as she thought that, Silia froze, staring out the window of Riman’s room. The other two gave her puzzled looks, and in the next instant, she leapt off the chair and demanded sharply,
“Anything else to add?”
“Uh…”
“Don’t hesitate—spit it out so you can rest.”
“I don’t think my rest is what you’re worried about. You look like you’re about to go somewhere.”
“Smart boy. Then go ahead and rest while I’m gone.”
“…I have nothing more to tell you.”
“Good. Tower Master, I’ll see you at the front gate.”
“Silia?”
“Wait, hold on—”
Ignoring Riman’s protests, Silia opened the door and darted out. Riman stared after her, dumbfounded.
“She might get lost without a guide; the security spells are complicated.”
“Don’t worry.”
“But—”
“She won’t get lost.”
The Tower Master smiled faintly.
A dim corridor stretched ahead as Silia ran, until she caught sight of a small inner courtyard bathed in faint light. The corner of the garden was shrouded in shadow.
“Found you.”
It was the terrace door leading to the courtyard. She threw it open and stepped onto the grass, extending her hand toward the figure hiding in the corner.
“Hey.”
“…Haha.”
“Explain properly what you’re doing here.”
There, wearing a dark robe, stood Crondel.
