The Tower of Magic—a kingdom built by mages in pursuit of truth.

Today it stood as an institution of research and education for the elite few, but its beginnings lay in a community of persecuted spellcasters.

That tradition remained: every city housed a branch of the Tower.

And in Gellerg City, where magitech drove urban progress, its influence was even greater.

“This is the Tower’s branch here in Gellerg City.”

The Tower’s local branch rose in a majestic spire.

Oval-shaped slabs of rock floated around the structure, while massive embedded mana stones pulsed intermittently across its walls in place of neon lights.

Despite its mystical exterior, its form was nothing like a “tower.”

At a glance, one could mistake it for a corporate headquarters.

“So, how does it feel? For a mage, this is the dream—to cross this threshold at least once in their life.”

I brushed off Colin’s dramatics.

“It’s not the Tower, it’s just a branch.”

“Is there really a difference?”

“You know there is.”

Only insiders knew the difference. Outsiders had no way of telling.

I certainly did.

“…Should’ve brought my other disciples. Not much fun teasing you when you see through everything.”

Colin smacked his lips in regret.

It was just the two of us.

Though affiliated with the Tower, it had been years since Colin last visited.

If he truly meant to take on a disciple, he would need to make preparations here first.

As for Lailla… her chances were slim.

She would likely never step foot inside.

Not for lack of will, but for lack of talent.

It might seem cruel to treat disciples differently, but the Tower was such a place.

Better to crush false hopes than to let her chase what she could never reach.

“Strange fellow. Even most Tower apprentices wouldn’t catch the difference you did. Must be the mercenary in you—worldly, well-traveled.”

My experience inside the Tower had told me as much… but I had no reason to correct his assumption.

The lobby buzzed with life.

It was too crowded to make out the interior’s full structure.

Most weren’t mages—businessmen here to buy artifacts, contract personnel, or simply tourists drawn by the Tower’s mystique.

“Stay close. Easy to lose your way here.”

Colin cut through the crowd with practiced ease until we reached a dead end.

Few came this way—for common sense said there was nothing beyond.

But I knew why he had brought us here.

A hidden entrance, veiled by illusion.

The Tower’s first filter, designed to bar those without magical perception.

I followed him straight into the wall.

No resistance—beyond it, a corridor stretched onward.

Twisting passageways led us to a massive doorway.

The space behind it rippled with something transparent, like waves crashing against glass.

A strange structure, like nothing else.

“Know what it is?”

“A portal.”

“Damn, you know that too? Do you know anything you don’t?”

A portal—an OOPArt linking two distant places.

The Tower alone held the technology, and access was tightly restricted.

Their precious treasure, and rightly so.

Wooong—!

Colin poured mana into the device, and a resonant hum filled the chamber, shaking the air like a dragon’s roar.

The transparent surface split, shifting until a strange new landscape shimmered into view.

“Looks stable. Let’s go.”

A wave of dizziness passed in an instant.

When I opened my eyes, the world around me had changed.

“Whew, good. Haven’t done that in a while—landed clean.”

Colin grinned.

I scanned our surroundings.

Snow fell under a gray sky.

Beyond stretched open horizons, a sight unseen in the concrete jungles of the city.

This coordinate was even farther north than the northern city of eternal winter—

The so-called Frozen Wastes.

No civilians allowed.

Here, the Tower had first been born, a refuge for mages once hunted and despised.

“Haa.”

My breath turned white.

A land where a single misstep would freeze you solid—yet somehow, the cold wasn’t unbearable.

Magic had bent nature to make it livable.

“There.”

I followed Colin’s gesture.

At the center of the landscape loomed a colossal tower.

So tall it pierced the clouds.

No ornate decorations, no eccentric structure—yet its sheer scale alone compelled awe.

An edifice of pure magic, a miracle transcending ages.

It was the Tower itself—the cradle of all mages.

“No matter how many years pass, this place never changes. The irony, isn’t it? The center of innovation, unchanged itself.”

His voice carried the weight of long memory.

“For all I know, my old lab may still be here. Though… there are plenty who don’t like me.”

With those ominous words, Colin pushed open the doors of the Tower.

“…Hm?”

Tried to, at least.

The doors refused to budge.

“Why won’t this—”

He tugged, shoved, groaned—

Thunk!

Suddenly, the doors swung open, and Colin tumbled headlong inside.

“…Colin Shieger, the Wanderer.”

A voice like a drawn blade cut down from above his bowed head.

“Have you come to stand trial?”

Dozens of eyes fell upon us.

The lobby brimmed with mages, as though every last one in the Tower had gathered.

Red Sun Fiona. Overseer Jerry. Even the Elders are here…

I knew all their faces.

Which only made this stranger.

Normally these recluses never left their research halls.

Something’s gone wrong here.

And it certainly wasn’t a welcome party.

I stayed sharp, watching, waiting.

“Ahem. My bad, really.”

The Tower’s reception chamber.

True to its reputation, the place brimmed with magical phenomena.

Teapots floated over on their own, pouring steaming cups.

Ornaments shuffled endlessly within their cabinets.

Charming, like a circus sideshow—

But not enough to distract from the cuffs clamped on Colin’s wrists, rattling faintly.

Made by the Juggernaut School, they sealed his mana completely.

Colin scratched his head with a sheepish look.

“To clear things up—did you leave the Tower for artifact research or not?”

“That part’s true. But afterward… there were issues with procedure, apparently.”

He sighed.

“Truth is, I’ve been saddled with a title. Head of the Juggernaut School. Never wanted it, but they stuck it on me anyway.”

Before he became “the Wanderer,” he’d made great contributions to magitech and public spells.

I’d known his reputation, but not that he had risen to School Head.

When I’d been in the Tower, I’d heard the position was vacant.

Either they’d kept it hidden, or he’d been treated like a ghost within their ranks.

“The School Head’s job comes with plenty of headaches. Meetings every quarter, at least annually to represent the school. Publishing your research results, too. A pile of duties.”

“…Ah. Don’t tell me.”

“As you know—I’m a wanderer. I ignored it all.”

A mage of the Tower enjoyed many privileges, but with them came duties.

At the rank of School Head, it was normal to keep a personal secretary just to manage your schedule.

Expecting a wanderer who had only just returned after years away to fulfill those duties properly was unreasonable.

Colin had always been a free spirit by nature.

He had probably forgotten—or simply hadn’t cared.

The Tower must have been fuming.

They couldn’t easily replace a School Head, yet he had vanished without contact. Their patience must have worn dangerously thin.

In the original timeline, Colin likely would have quietly struck a deal and relinquished the position.

But because I had brought him back early, everything had exploded now instead.

“My apologies. I didn’t expect a warm welcome, but I never thought I’d be treated as a criminal’s accomplice. It’s shameful.”

Colin’s expression all but begged for a hole to crawl into.

Of all times, he had to embarrass himself in front of his new disciple’s guardian.

So much for keeping up his dignity.

Caught in shame, he glanced at me anxiously, fearing I might retract my trust after seeing this disgrace.

“What’s done is done. But what of our agreement?”

Despite the situation, I had no doubts about his skill—or his character.

Learning only now that he was a School Head changed nothing. Even if stripped of the title, I had no intention of entrusting Sage to anyone else.

What worried me was recovering the druid’s legacy.

“That’s the problem.”

Colin shared my concern.

“Until the trial, I’ll be restricted. Since you came here as my guest, you’ll be detained along with me.”

“So we’ll be stuck until the trial ends.”

“That’s right.”

I’d thought things were going smoothly for once.

Apparently not.

Still, the setback wasn’t fatal.

“How long do you think it will take?”

“If I plead guilty, a week at most.”

“That much I can wait.”

A week was tolerable.

I had no other contracts lined up anyway.

“It won’t affect me teaching the kid, don’t worry. Sharing research is standard, so unless someone digs for excuses, nothing will—”

“No. You won’t achieve anything here.”

The doors slammed open.

A group of mages strode in, their robes marked with the pentagram insignia.

The one in front, a gaunt man with a harsh face, spoke.

“…Been a while, Gellan.”

“Spare me the pleasantries. I was doing well enough before you showed up. I thought I’d never see your face again until my death. What whim brings you here?”

Their words dripped with venom.

They stared at each other with undisguised hostility, like sworn enemies.

Which, in truth, they were.

Gellan Busting, noble of the Tower.

Head of the Elemental School, one of the Tower’s oldest traditions.

By contrast, Colin’s Juggernaut School was a newer discipline, born from modern advancements.

The two schools were natural opposites.

And Gellan himself, though descended from a ruined line, was still a noble.

Prideful by nature—of course he despised Colin.

And the man himself is rotten besides.

Arrogant, narrow-minded, obsessive.

A textbook mage, blind to anything beyond his own pride.

Despite his respectable achievements, his reputation was poor.

Every cycle I’d spent in the Tower, I’d butted heads with him more than once.

His presence was never a good omen.

This time was no exception.

“I’ve returned with a new disciple—and a guest. Is that a problem?”

“A problem? More than that. You shirked your duties, fled under the weight of your obligations, and now have the gall to show your face here? The Tower is no cheap inn.”

“Shirked? I just forgot!”

“Which makes it worse. Such vulgarity is unworthy of a mage of this Tower’s venerable tradition.”

He shook his head, then gestured sharply.

“Take them.”

“What?!”

Mages seized us, forcing us to our feet with rough hands.

Like criminals under arrest.

“I told you already—you’ll accomplish nothing here.”

Gellan looked down on Colin with smug disdain.

“A mage not of the Tower has no place within it.”

“What are you—!”

“This trial will see you stripped and cast out. And I’ll see it done myself.”

“Gellan!”

“Bring him before the council. The trial begins now.”

As expected.

His appearance was no good omen.

I had thought we had a week—yet the trial was to begin immediately.

Everything was spiraling fast.

Colin and Gellan—an infamous rivalry.

They had entered the Tower in the same era, each studying under opposing schools.

Gellan, the promising talent. Colin, dismissed as worthless.

Yet in time, it was Colin who achieved greatness.

To the outrage of many, he was chosen as one of the Tower Master’s personal disciples.

Gellan never accepted it.

He seethed, forever competing, treating Colin as a thorn in his eye.

Now, at last, he had found his chance to strike.

So Gellan had planned this.

Another first—this event had never come in past cycles.

But that made sense.

Before, the Tower’s patience had broken long before Gellan could act. Colin had been quietly demoted.

Now, though, Colin’s early return had given Gellan his opening.

“So, you’re his disciple’s guardian, are you? My condolences.”

On the way to the council chamber, Gellan had mocked Colin to his fill.

Satisfied, he turned his sneer toward me.

“Blame your luck—or rather, your poor judgment in patrons. Still, at least you crossed the Tower’s threshold once. Call it a story for your grandchildren.”

“Do you truly intend to see a fair judgment here?”

“Exile is fair. Leaving him alive is mercy.”

His resolve was clear.

The fire in his eyes burned with fanatic hatred.

This was no mere discipline dispute.

It was the desperation of a man determined to cut away the root of his inferiority, no matter what.

…So be it.

I had hoped to watch from the sidelines.

But left unchecked, I would lose everything.

Colin’s expulsion wouldn’t just jeopardize Sage’s tutelage—it would also cripple my pursuit of the druid’s relics.

Annoying, yes. But worth my intervention.

“You’ll regret this.”

“Hah! Is that a threat? You dare threaten me here?!”

“It isn’t a threat.”

It was a statement of fact.

I’d seen it before.

And I’d cast him out of the Tower once already.

(End of Chapter)