episode_0087

The Council Tower. The smallest and shortest of the five towers comprising the Magic Tower. Yet, paradoxically, it was also the highest place. Whether they liked it or not, even mages needed a face to communicate with the world. Thus, the Council of Elders was established as the decision-making body of the Magic Tower.

Young mages had no interest in tedious politics and economic discussions, nor did they possess the patience to deal with arrogant nobles.

The elders, who took on these bothersome and dull tasks, gained power in return. It wasn’t entirely without the feeling of being saddled with unwanted work, but the mages generally respected the decisions made by their former mentors and seniors.

That’s why persuading them was by no means a trivial matter—it was something worth attempting.

Elin, having gathered all the elders, stood at the center of the Ninth Council Chamber, the largest room in the Council Tower.

“It’s been a while since we’ve all gathered like this. The reason I’ve called this meeting—”

“Spare us the unnecessary preamble. Riel Frost was captured and dragged away by the royal knights just yesterday. Do you really think we don’t know what’s on your mind, given how dearly you cherished your disciple?”

“Let me say this upfront—I oppose this. This is your personal problem, Tower Lord. Do not involve the Magic Tower any further.”

“In fact, you’ve already involved us enough.”

Elin had barely uttered a single sentence before a barrage of negative responses flew at her.

The representative of the Magic Tower, funded by the kingdom, had been caught harboring a traitor. Everyone was worried about how much of a headache the aftermath would be.

Even within the Magic Tower, which appeared tightly united from the outside, not everyone got along. Particularly, there were quite a few elders who envied the Tower Lord for having Riel Frost as her disciple.

It was no exaggeration to say that their immediate opposition was a foregone conclusion.

“But no one raised any objections at the time, did they? Isn’t it cowardly to pin this solely on the Tower Lord now?”

Azul, who had quickly adapted to his newly acquired position as Vice Tower Lord, immediately stepped forward to defend his superior.

“Because we believed the Tower Lord could keep it hidden. Isn’t it the Magic Tower’s tradition to act freely within the bounds of the law, as long as we’re not caught? Surely you’re not unaware of that?”

No one would openly admit to breaking the law, but it was a shared understanding among the members of the Magic Tower. Arguing against it now would only come off as stubborn and weaken their position.

As Azul tried to speak again, Elin raised her hand to stop him.

“Enough, Azul. It’s true that the responsibility lies most heavily with me.”

Azul shrugged lightly and closed his eyes. The flow of the conversation felt almost scripted.

From the start, Elin had no intention of shifting blame. But she wanted everyone to recognize that no one here was free from responsibility for this situation.

“Hmph, and yet you still called us here knowing that?”

“Calm down, Elder Laydenmurn. After all, she is still our representative, isn’t she?”

“That’s right. Surely we can spare some time to hear her out?”

A kindly-faced elder gestured as if to say it was fine.

“Thank you, Elder Chester.”

“However, there’s one thing I’d like you to understand, Tower Lord. I, and the other elders, remain skeptical about your proposal to help Riel—or should I say, the lamb now? At any rate, that child.”

“Of course, Riel Frost is an exceptional mage, and her value is beyond words. I, too, would like to help if possible, but…”

“But calling the entire Council means you’re considering extreme measures, no? We don’t want to further antagonize the kingdom. No matter how important Riel Frost is as an individual, she can’t be worth the survival of the Magic Tower, can she?”

In the current situation, retrieving Arina through earnest pleas or petitions—moderate methods—was impossible. If they misspoke and provoked the kingdom’s ire, they’d be lucky to escape unscathed.

Essentially, this meant unifying opinions to deploy the Magic Tower’s military force—a de facto declaration of war. There was no way they could agree to that.

So far, six elders had indirectly voiced their opinions: three strongly opposed, and three relatively softer in their opposition. The remaining six hadn’t spoken yet, but their expressions made their leanings clear.

‘In the end, no one supports this.’

Elin rolled her eyes, quickly gauging the elders’ true intentions. At their level, most were mentors to others and leaders of factions. Crossing them would mean losing a significant portion of their followers.

From her perspective, three elders seemed particularly unyielding in their opposition.

‘Three out of twelve—that’s a quarter. I’ll have to prepare to lose 25%.’

Calculating even the potential schism within the Magic Tower, Elin spoke.

“This isn’t just a matter of my personal feelings. As I’ve said before, my disciple can end the war with the demon realm.”

“I remember. But can we trust the Demon King to honor such a deal?”

“And the war with the demon realm will end once the Hero’s Party defeats the Demon King. Wouldn’t it be better to leave things as they are for now? The king isn’t foolish enough to kill the child.”

“Let’s consider the opposite. What if the demon army throws everything they have to annihilate the Hero’s Party, including Riel? What then?”

The death of the Hero’s Party. For people of this era, it was hard to imagine, but before Yuria Railani and Riel Frost, not a single Hero’s Party had escaped their fate—dying alone in the desolate demon realm, where not a blade of grass grew.

And each time the Hero’s Party fell, the demon realm’s invasions grew stronger.

“At any other time, perhaps not, but right now, we’re suffering unprecedented losses from the civil war. The frontlines are crumbling day by day. If that happens, we won’t be spared either. It’s only a matter of time before the kingdom demands large-scale conscription from the Magic Tower.”

“That’s all speculation. Many mages have already volunteered for the frontlines. The kingdom knows it’s unreasonable to demand more manpower than we’ve already—”

“Regrettably, it’s confirmed. The kingdom’s demands for this incident include operational control of the Magic Tower. That includes authority over manpower deployment.”

“T-Tower Lord!”

“What?!”

Only one elder shouted, but the others were visibly shaken in their own ways. Despite the vast support it received, the Magic Tower had already provided most of the resources it could spare. For the kingdom to demand operational control now could only mean one thing: they intended to fully mobilize mages for the war.

They’d long known the kingdom coveted a mage army. Back then, the Magic Tower’s united opposition had stopped it, but with this disgraceful incident, refusal was no longer an option.

“So this is all your fault! And yet you have the audacity to ask for our help in rescuing your disciple? Are you joking?!”

Led by the hardline Elder Laydenmurn, hostility toward Elin erupted instantly. By confessing that her actions had cost the Magic Tower its autonomy, she’d lost even the sympathetic elders, who shook their heads and sighed.

“This hardly seems the time to discuss your disciple. You should be prepared to step down as Tower Lord!”

With Laydenmurn’s accusation, the entire Council’s disapproving gaze converged on Elin.

‘We’re screwed…!’

Azul, standing beside Elin at the eye of the storm, broke into a cold sweat, realizing they were utterly doomed.

Why did she have to bring that up?

It was something that had to be revealed eventually, but the timing couldn’t have been worse. At this rate, they’d lose all support.

Yet, when he glanced at Elin, she stood unwavering, not a hint of retreat in her demeanor.

“So what?”

“W-What?”

Her brazen response left Laydenmurn stammering, thrown off balance.

“Elder Laydenmurn is right. Losing the Magic Tower’s autonomy is largely my fault. If you want me to step down as Tower Lord, I will. But then what? I’ll take responsibility and leave—that’s all. You all know who I am even without the title, don’t you? But what about the rest of you? What will you do?”

“How dare you—! What do you mean, ‘what will we do’? Are you seriously shirking responsibility now?!”

“I called this meeting precisely to avoid cowardice. I’m trying to take responsibility and resolve this.”

“What does rescuing your disciple have to do with this?!”

“I’ll leave that explanation to the next person.”

Stepping back from the center of the round table, Elin pushed forward a young man who had been silently listening.

“W-Wait, I’m not mentally prepared yet—”

“You can do it! It’s all for Arina’s sake.”

“Ahem, Tower Lord. I’ve been curious for a while now—who exactly is this young man?”

“He is… my disciple Riel Frost’s future husband.”

Under the vertical cascade of light from the magic chandelier, Ian Felix, suddenly thrust into the skeptical gazes of the elders, scratched his cheek awkwardly.

“Uh… I’m Ian Felix.”