The "Magic Festival"—a celebration commemorating the construction of the first mage tower and wishing for the revival of magic.
It is one of the most famous anniversaries in the world, and also the busiest day for mage towers.
Tower masters and high-ranking mages head out to major cities to promote their affiliated towers and showcase their skills. As mages from different towers compete with dazzling magic, it becomes a spectacle that draws crowds in droves.
Only the lower-ranking mages are left behind in the towers.
Security is tight with dangerous magic circles guarding the tower, and should an alarm sound, the tower master can return within five minutes, no matter what. So, there was no real need for high-ranking mages to remain.
Preparation against external intrusions was solid.
But what about the inside?
'They've departed.'
Verden, pretending to clean a lab near the entrance, watched as the mages left, identifying each of them.
The ones who would pose a serious threat to his plan were definitely gone. Especially the tower master.
There was time to spare, but no reason to waste any of it.
Verden immediately threw down his cleaning tools and headed upstairs.
As always, he was met with contemptuous stares as he knocked on the administrator's door.
"It's Verden."
Three seconds of silence. The door opened, and the administrator, rubbing sleep from his eyes, looked as if he had just woken up.
"...I don't recall giving you permission to enter."
"I'm sorry. The tower master asked me to clean the treasure vault before lunch…"
"The tower master? And yet you couldn't even spare a moment to ask for permission? Tch, you're getting dumber by the day. Pathetic."
Verden let the administrator's words go in one ear and out the other.
The man was trash—servile to the strong and cruel to the weak. His heart was as foul as his chubby cheeks were plump.
And he's secretly in charge of managing unofficial experimental materials.
Verden himself was on that list.
Most mages above the tower's middle floors were involved in unofficial experiments. All of them were at least third-tier mages, considered geniuses in their hometowns.
Yet despite their number, no word ever leaked outside.
Because every mage, except those closest to the tower master, had silence magic circles engraved onto their bodies. A minimal form of coercion to ensure secrecy.
The administrator, sluggishly getting up, fetched a specially crafted key from a safe.
"As I always say, don't you dare scratch or lose this. Not that I need to say it—you know full well what happens if you cause damage to the tower."
"Yes, sir."
Verden signed the access log, received the key, and left the room.
His destination—the treasure vault hidden deep within the tower. After passing through strict security, Verden heaved open the massive door.
Inside lay an array of magic items. Treasures, every one of them.
'No matter how many times I see it, it's amazing.'
Even the lowest-ranking item held a value beyond Verden's reach.
There were hundreds more worth even more. If a mid-upper tier tower held such wealth, one could only imagine what the top-tier towers concealed.
Verden instinctively pulled back the hand he had extended. Removing any item from its assigned position meant instant death. Only the useless junk scattered on the floor was fair game.
'But today is different.'
He had honed his knowledge over a lifetime, polishing it for seven years just for this day.
Verden turned away from the cluttered floor and walked forward. He had never intended to clean. The tower master's supposed order was a complete lie.
His true goal was the real items sealed behind a magic circle. He approached a staff displayed on the right.
The tower master's prized collection.
This staff, fifth in line, was a man-made artifact of astronomical cost, named 'Second Circuit'.
'A regular mage who grabs that would immediately ascend to a whole new level.'
Below it, lay a document containing detailed information, signed by the world-renowned appraiser, Lennon Bernard.
★ Second Circuit
A man-made artifact invented by the Bohemirn Tower, created from the highest-grade materials. A staff specialized for elemental mages, it is an embodiment of magic talent. It enables any mage to cast three spells simultaneously and temporarily unlocks potential beyond their natural talent, rivaling even ancient artifacts in prestige.
⦁ Breaks tier limit
⦁ Triple casting
⦁ Increased casting speed (special)
⦁ Mana capacity breakthrough
⦁ Enhanced elemental magic power (special)
⦁ Expanded elemental magic range (special)
⦁ Size manipulation
⦁ Advanced concealment
⦁ Spatial storage
...
...
...
The internal magic circuits compensate for insufficient talent. Casting speed is improved, and one can channel more mana than usual into specific spells.
It's an all-around boost to elemental magic. It also offers size control, excellent concealment, and even storage capabilities.
If Verden, a first-tier mage, got his hands on this, he would leap to the third tier in an instant. While his mana wouldn't increase, the artifact was indispensable for his plan.
But first, he had to completely dismantle the magic circle. It was the personal creation of the tower master, who had reached the seventh tier.
'A single misstep means instant death.'
Verden wiped away his cold sweat, calming his pounding heart. His life was on the line, yet he couldn't suppress the smile creeping up on his lips.
"The magic circle you were so proud of—I'll smash it to pieces."
He had already completed the theory and experiments. All that was left was real execution.
"Hoo…"
After one deep breath, Verden closed his eyes and drew out a thread of mana from his fingertip. He focused all his senses on the thread and slowly inserted it into the magic circle.
After the entrance, go left.
Left. Left. Straight. Right. Straight. Left——
Over seven years, he had secretly observed the magic circle, even crafting a replica to study its decryption.
Four years to analyze it, two to break it. The final year, he etched the results into his soul through thousands of repetitions.
He knew where to go and what to do. His body responded before his brain.
Maintaining the mana thread for long periods was difficult, but he had worked tirelessly to reach unmatched efficiency in this field.
Even if his opponent was the tower master, he had confidence.
The thread, smoothly passing through the passage, met the first barrier.
One of the basic spells. A small burst of mana flared from the thread's tip, tapping at the barrier. Crackle! Sparks flew as the magic circle pulsed, then went still.
The shock damaged part of the barrier. Verden slipped through the crack, gradually eating away at it. The spell circle wavered, on the brink of activating, due to his delicate touch.
Scratch, scratch──crack.
At last, the thread pierced through the barrier.
Woom…
With one of the key nodes broken, the light of the magic circle faded noticeably.
Just two more times.
But there was no room for complacency. Even the slightest mistake would activate the magic circle and erase him.
Cold sweat streamed down his body. Gritting his teeth, Verden controlled his rapid breathing and focused harder than ever.
Thirty minutes passed, then an hour.
This is the last one!
Boom!
At last. The magic circle collapsed. The tower master's prized creation, once praised by the academy, shattered like glass and scattered into nothing.
By none other than a first-tier mage he once looked down on like an object.
"Haah… haah…"
Sweat pooled beneath him. Clinging to his dizzy consciousness, Verden reached for the staff.
Whoosh! The staff's circuit linked with his mana core, enveloping his entire body in an overwhelming sense of power.
"So this is the third tier…"
It was high. So high, it seemed unreachable. Was this the view from Rovellin's eyes? To both past and present Verden, the difference felt utterly despairing.
But the future would be different.
'If the theory succeeds, I can have it too.'
Talent, and power.
Verden's once-weary gaze now burned anew with life.
***
Having secured the core artifact, Verden turned his eyes to the others.
Each was protected by a magic circle of a different pattern, but he had already fully deciphered the ones guarding the treasures he had preselected.
Hurriedly breaking the seals, Verden used the staff's storage ability to secretly stash the items away.
Then, using magic to erase his traces, he hid the now-shrunken staff and left the vault.
Despite the meticulous security, it hadn't detected the staff's removal.
After returning the key, Verden changed clothes in his room, grabbed a small pouch, and hid the items he'd taken from the vault in their designated places.
He then enjoyed a full lunch.
His behavior was so casual that no one cast a suspicious glance his way.
"Bring back a good book later, something worth reading."
"Understood."
His next task was assisting the mage in charge of security—in other words, serving.
At the heart of the mage tower, the power core control room was operated by a team of three third-tier or higher mages who rotated shifts each day.
Magic was strictly forbidden there, so proper research couldn't be conducted. It was unbearably boring. That's why one servant was selected outside the team to handle errands and chores.
'No one wants this job, but not today.'
Because this next duty would be his last.
Verden, carrying over ten books, entered the control room.
Normally, three people were supposed to be present, but that rule was rarely followed. The team leader was a prime example.
The two subordinate mages didn't even glance at Verden and instead lamented their fate.
"Some get to enjoy the festival, and we're wasting time in a place like this…"
"No helping it. We lost the draw."
"And that's why we're sitting quietly. If it had been decided by magic, I would've won for sure… Eh, my tea's gone cold."
Splash. The cold tea water spilled onto the floor.
Cleaning it up was always the servant's job. Verden was used to such behavior.
He quickly covered the spill with a towel and brewed new tea—this time adding something he normally didn't.
When he carefully poured the tea, the mage happily took a sip.
"Hmm. This is much better than before. Honestly, this guy should've been a barista instead of a researcher. Would you like some?"
"No thanks. I don't drink tea brewed by anyone below the second tier."
"Hahaha! Guess that means you'll never drink tea in your life."
"You never know. I could become the tower master and make you serve me tea."
"What? Tower master? Haha! Sure, if you become tower master, I'll serve you tea for the rest of my life."
"Don't forget you said that."
How irritating their way of speaking is.
They weren't even in their forties yet, and still talked like old men. Verden and Rovellin especially loathed that type.
Most of them were more concerned with style than actual skill.
And tower master?
Ridiculous. Dreaming of a delusional future when they couldn't even see a step ahead.
"…"
Verden waited quietly.
As time passed, the mage who drank the tea began to nod off. The other was engrossed in his book. No one was wary of Verden.
'It's time.'
He restored the shrunken staff to its original size.
With Second Circuit now at eye level, Verden gripped it with both hands and stepped behind the dozing mage, keeping a slight distance.
Three times in succession. The same spell was cast, gathering mana and focusing it at the staff's tip.
Then, he pulled it back with all his might.
Grrrrk.
Verden's body was not like those of typical mages focused solely on research.
He had been hardened through all sorts of chores and was practically a master of sweeping. Since dreaming of revenge, he had also trained his body, if only crudely.
For Verden, smashing the head of a sitting duck was far too easy.
'Don't hesitate.'
Killing intent glinted in his eyes.
Steeling his heart, Verden swung the staff with full force.
Thud!
Sticky blood spurted from the back of the dozing mage's head.
Even a third-tier mage could be taken down in one blow if unprepared. Just like now.
"Wh-what?! What the hell?!"
Thump! The mage, half of his head missing, collapsed onto the floor.
The other mage, shocked by the sudden spray of blood, glanced back and forth between Verden and the body.
"You lunatic!"
As expected of a mage—his reaction was swift.
He hurled a book at Verden and immediately cast a spell.
A third-tier wave rose to the ceiling of the control room and surged toward Verden.
If it hit, he'd likely drown or be helpless against follow-up spells.
But this situation had already been anticipated.
Verden had investigated all the mages involved in his plan—their attributes, their strategies.
'That guy specializes in freezing targets after drenching them with waves.'
In that case, the only option was to strike before the wave landed.
Mana flowed through the circuit and gathered at the staff's tip. It was his first time using third-tier magic, but the theory was beyond perfect. There was no reason for failure.
A sharp, massive shard of rock.
The artifact's enhanced piercing power was too much for a thin wave to withstand. And for the unguarded caster beyond it.
Exploiting strengths to overcome weaknesses is the foundation of magical combat.
A mage who forgot that had no right to survive.
"Huh?"
Crash! The stone spear pierced the wave and drove through the mage's chest. It didn't stop there—it gouged a deep gash into the wall made of special alloy.
The dying wave splashed against Verden's chest, then faded.
The mage, stumbling back until he hit the wall, looked down at his chest with a stunned expression and murmured,
"Th-this… this can't be…"
"You should've known better than to toy with people. You and this tower alike."
Verden pointed the staff at the mage's head.
Crack! Fist-sized stones crushed the mage's skull.
Blood sprayed in all directions. Verden wiped the blood and sweat from his face and flicked it onto the floor.
"Hoo…"
Using third- and second-tier spells in succession with only first-tier mana was a tremendous burden, but the result was even better than expected. He had killed two third-tier mages on his own.
'Killing…'
His hands trembled, but he felt no guilt.
These two had performed human experiments on him over the past few years. If anything, he felt liberated—like a weight had been lifted from his chest.
"It's almost over now."
The tower's power source.
The destination of his plan was just ahead.