“Uh, Master… Even if you don’t test her, shouldn’t you at least talk with her first…”

“She’s cute. That’s enough to pass.”

Colin’s grin deepened.

Too grim to be a joke, too light to be taken as serious truth.

Sage, who had bravely stepped forward only moments ago, darted behind me and whispered:

“Mister, I’ll just stay with you. I don’t want to go to the Tower.”

“Just give it a little more time.”

“He’s weird.”

Honestly, I couldn’t deny it.

Eccentric or not, that was an odd remark.

Still, the fact remained—he was a man of integrity.

To turn her away over one unsettling comment would’ve been foolish; other mages were far worse.

I pulled the wary Sage along and sat us down.

Colin looked at us with a calm gaze.

“I am Colin Shieger. A mage.”

“Allen. Contractor.”

“My disciple told me. You’re the capable one who dealt with the Brotherhood branch head.”

Lailla gave me a wink.

Unfortunately, her eyelid twitched like a nervous tic—hardly charming.

Colin smirked just as slyly.

“Hmph. With that face and that strength, you must be popular. No need to be so stiff—speak casually. You can’t be much younger than me.”

“Master, that’s a bit much…”

“Ahem.”

Lailla’s conscience pricked, but Colin was shameless.

“Make friends with this one, disciple. Do you know how valuable looks are to a traveler?”

He didn’t even bother to hide his intent.

That kind of candor, even in absurdity, was what made him a free spirit despite being a distinguished mage.

With anyone else, I’d have suspected a ploy. With Colin, I could believe him.

Even so, I wasn’t bold enough to embrace such freewheeling talk.

Even if he wanted it… the gap between us was too wide.

Some things just weren’t proper.

“I’ve heard of your renown. I can’t bring myself to treat you that way.”

“Oh? You know me?”

“The Tower Lord’s third disciple. The Wanderer Colin. Among Tower circles, you’re famous.”

Colin frowned, tongue clicking in irritation, his aura like he might crush someone with a blow.

“Damn. So much for surprising you later.”

Yet his true intent was almost childlike.

“I wouldn’t entrust a child to just anyone. I had to be careful.”

“Wait, wait—Tower Lord’s disciple? You, Master?”

The secret, apparently, shocked Lailla.

Colin waved it off casually.

“Not worth fussing over.”

“How could it not—”

“I’m not taking you to the Tower. It doesn’t concern you.”

“…Right.”

The chill in his tone killed any false hope.

Even a benevolent teacher had limits.

Not every disciple could be brought into the Tower.

“Then you don’t plan to return to the Tower?”

“And why do you care?”

“I intend to send this child to the Tower.”

“Oho. Quite the studious parent you are.”

Colin shook his head.

“Every parent thinks their child is a genius. But the Tower is merciless. Most kids hit a wall and give up…”

Fwoosh!

A flash of light pierced the room.

Brighter than torches in a cave, warmer than a winter hearth.

“Wow…”

Lailla gasped in awe.

Flames blazed between Sage’s small hands.

A flame perfectly controlled, steady and serene.

“Can’t she go to the Tower, even after this?”

“This is…”

One demonstration outshone a hundred arguments.

Faultless control of power, stable formulas, steady flow of mana.

“…You’ve left me speechless.”

A spark lit Colin’s eyes.

This wasn’t the skill of some self-taught novice.

Nor was it something a girl her age should be capable of.

It was the unmistakable glimmer of overwhelming talent.

I shrugged as if to say, See?

“I didn’t come to the Tower Lord’s disciple without reason.”

“Charming face, outstanding talent… I should be begging her to learn from me, not judging if she passes.”

He laughed and reached out his hand.

Sage instinctively flinched away from the massive palm.

…A hand that could crush a skull like fruit.

Colin paused, embarrassed, and pulled back.

“Ahem. My apologies.”

“N-no, it’s fine.”

“I know my face scares people. I’ll be careful.”

The dejection in his voice clashed oddly with his fearsome appearance.

Anyone else would recoil, but this warmth was part of who Colin the Wanderer was.

“You seem fond of children.”

“They’re cute. Pitiful, too. If fate ties us, I try to help.”

That was why he’d taken in so many, Lailla included.

“But talent aside, even if I take her in, she won’t be going to the Tower for a while.”

“And why not?”

“Let’s just say I have personal business. I won’t return until it’s resolved.”

“Personal business…”

The firmness in his folded arms brooked no compromise.

So there was a reason after all?

In the game, no matter when it began, he’d always been a wanderer away from the Tower.

I’d thought it was just wanderlust. But apparently not.

This complicates things.

Going—or not going—to the Tower made a huge difference.

“Then introduce me to another mage.”

“I’d rather make her my disciple. I swear I’d give her everything I have.”

“Even your best can’t match the Tower’s support.”

There was a reason the Tower was called the cradle of mages.

Endless resources, vast experience, and the people to provide guidance.

Even as the Tower Lord’s disciple, Colin couldn’t match that.

“She needs the Tower.”

“…And what do you think?”

Instead of answering me, Colin asked her directly.

Sage didn’t hesitate.

“If I’m not unworthy of the Tower… then I want to go.”

Her decision came from many things—fear of being alone with him, doubts if he really was a Tower mage, and her own drive to reach higher.

Rejected by the girl herself, Colin sighed and stroked his beard.

“Damn. What a bind. I want her as a disciple, but I can’t return to the Tower now…”

His inner struggle was written all over his face.

At least he’s tempted.

I had asked for another mage, but truly, he was the best choice.

If he changed his mind, it’d be ideal.

“Then let’s do this.”

At last, Colin slapped the table.

“One month. I’ll teach her for that long. Afterward, she’ll decide for herself.”

“And if Sage chooses the Tower?”

“Then our bond ends there. But I’ll personally find her another teacher.”

So he really didn’t intend to return.

Almost as if he’d quarreled with the Tower Lord.

I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened.

Before my curiosity burst, Colin finally gave a hint.

“Of course, depending on you, I might go back.”

“…?”

“You’re a contractor. Show me your skill.”

Colin rose to his feet.

“If you complete a commission for me, I’ll bend my pride.”

A commission—so this was where our professions aligned.

No reason to refuse.

I nodded.

“I’m expensive, but for this, I’ll waive the fee.”

“Well then, I hardly know how to thank you.”

He chuckled and tapped the ring on his index finger.

A rift tore open in the air, spilling out a heap of objects.

Spatial Ring?

One of FP’s endgame items, the real-world replacement for an inventory.

Merchants even hailed it as a miracle-forged relic, worth more than gold.

“Let’s see… ah, here it is.”

He dug through the pile of junk and tossed something at me.

“This is…?”

A block of wood.

About as worthless as the rest of the clutter it had come from.

“That’s my commission—figure out what it is.”

“That’s all?”

“Oh-ho, confident, are you? But it won’t be easy. Believe it or not, that thing’s the reason I’ve been wandering all this time.”

So the Tower Lord’s disciple had spent years roaming… over a piece of wood?

Then it’s not ordinary.

I studied it carefully.

Solid hardwood.

In this world, where plant life was scarce, lumber was worth many times more than on Earth.

Birch?

Pale flesh, dense and fine-grained, commonly used for carving.

In the old days, even its bark served as paper.

Valuable, to say the least.

It’s been carved.

The tool marks were unmistakably man-made.

But beyond that, I couldn’t tell much.

Colin offered a clue.

“Found it in ruins. Couldn’t fully break through, so I took a piece with me to study.”

Ruins—the FP equivalent of dungeons.

They came in two forms:

First, ancient treasure vaults, hoards of artifacts.

Second, hidden pieces, granting professional advancements.

For mages, new spells or elixirs; for warriors, weapons or martial techniques.

But wood from ruins? That’s new.

Too plain to be a treasure, too vague to tie to a profession.

A carved block of wood couldn’t be an artifact, but as a professional reward? Hard to say.

“You won’t figure it out right away. Take your time—one month isn’t short. Leave the girl to me and—”

I ignored his boasting and placed my hand on the block.

This wasn’t artifact-class.

That meant it had to be the latter.

If it was a professional reward…

A flash of instinct jolted through me like lightning.

Rustle—!

「The World Tree feels a powerful pull.」

Even beyond my instinct, the World Tree sensed it too.

Its tendrils wrapped around the block—

And system messages poured in like a flood.

「The World Tree recognizes carved birch wood!」

「Totem activated!」

「Damage: 40%」

「Severe damage prevents proper function.」

「The World Tree attempts restoration…」

…

……

「Success!」

「The Totem of Protection regains its function!」

「Totem of Protection

─A birch-carved totem.

─Its detailed form manifests into reality, granting the owner temporary protective magic.」

Where the tendrils touched, the carving restored itself.

Chipped edges smoothed, dulled lines sharpened.

The block transformed into the vivid statue of a suit of armor, almost alive.

Colin blinked, swallowing hard as the restored totem gleamed.

“What in the—what did you just…!”

“Didn’t even need a month.”

I nudged the totem with a finger.

It floated to my chest, radiating pure mana like a spirit.

The power wrapped around me, a firm wave encasing my body.

Chains of mana locked into the form of armor.

“The Totem of Protection. A Druid’s legacy.”

Which meant the ruins Colin had explored…

…were Druid ruins.

The Juggernaut School’s hallmark wasn’t mastery of one spell, but breadth—dabbling in many, applying them to daily life.

One of their most common spells was Grasping Hand.

Used normally to move heavy objects; with enough mana, it could crush a person like a balloon.

In Colin’s hands, it would be far stronger.

“Let’s test it, then.”

He didn’t hold back as he unleashed the spell on me.

Not just one point—pressure pressed down over my entire body.

Crack!

But it went no further.

The force that should’ve snapped bone and muscle dissipated like a breeze.

Splinter—!

Not his mistake—the fracture forming in the totem proved otherwise.

“Incredible!”

He’d wanted to test it, and the totem had done its job.

As its name implied, it shielded against attacks.

Rather than disappointment, Colin looked exhilarated, like a child.

“How could it have such effect? Its structure’s simple, it doesn’t store that much mana—”

He muttered as he spun through theories and discarded them.

I kept silent.

Even if I told him, he wouldn’t be able to replicate it.

It’s not magic.

As a Druid’s legacy, the totem’s structure was plain to me.

「Totem crafting is now possible!」

「Each material grants a different ability!」

「Secure various resources to expand the range of craftable totems!」

This’ll be useful.

If birch made protection, what would oak or cedar yield?

The possibilities were endless.

It was practically an artifact system—easier than mage-crafting, even.

All it took was carving the wood and imbuing intent.

The only challenge would be sourcing materials.

I pulled Colin back from his trance.

“Do you have anything else from those ruins?”

“No, that’s all I kept. The rest is at the Tower.”

“The Tower?”

He hesitated, then confessed.

“My master led the investigation. I assisted. He stayed in the Tower, I searched outside. That’s why the rest is there.”

“Perfect.”

I returned the totem.

It was his find; I had no right to keep it.

And with the ability to craft my own, I didn’t need to.

“The commission’s complete, isn’t it?”

“…Yes.”

“Then, as promised, you’ll return to the Tower. And while you’re there, show me the rest. I’ll help verify the artifacts.”

I had to go anyway, to pursue the Endless Spring.

The Druid’s legacy…

It was only right that I, the last Druid, should reclaim it.

(End of Chapter)