Trials within the Tower were rare.

To be precise—they hardly ever happened at all.

Mages occupied the highest rungs of society.

The elites who rose as far as the Tower might not be close with one another, but their sense of belonging was strong. This created an unspoken tradition: smooth things over whenever possible.

When an offense couldn’t be overlooked, it wasn’t handled with a trial but by summary judgment.

Execution squads or exile—those were the common punishments.

But not even a School Head could be treated so lightly.

Normally, even if a crime was committed, it was muddled away in the realm of politics.

Colin, the Wanderer, was the lone exception—and Gellan’s hatred made this trial reality.

Bang!

The heavy doors of the Tower’s underground tribunal swung open.

We were shoved inside like cargo.

“Urk!”

Colin toppled to the floor with a crash. I steadied myself and scanned the chamber.

It didn’t resemble an ordinary court.

At the center stood a raised platform for the accused.

Around it, officials and spectators mingled without distinction.

That chaotic mixture was standard for the Tower’s tribunal.

And in truth, it was hard to separate them neatly—so many of the onlookers were officials.

Trials were rare, and with a School Head as the defendant, the turnout was immense.

“Colin, just look at him.”

“Tsk tsk, I knew it would come to this. If the current Tower Master has a flaw, it’s surely that man.”

“And the one beside him?”

“They say the guardian of a new disciple. Pitiful, really.”

“Pitiful? No, he surely abetted Colin’s disgrace.”

Derision filled the hall.

Blame and mockery came sharp, unrestrained.

Everyone I saw this morning is here.

The School Heads. The Council of Elders.

Each one a figure of renown, movers of society.

Here, they were objects of dread.

Their voices carried weight enough to decide the verdict.

“My, my. Heavy-seated folk. What’s so amusing you all dragged yourselves here today?”

Colin grumbled as he rose awkwardly.

Gellan sneered.

“Because at last, the Tower’s scourge will be judged.”

“Looks like it. Those who hate me are having quite a party.”

Colin ground his teeth, provoked.

Even to an outsider, the lineup was blatant.

The factions: Elders, Gellan’s bloc, and the neutral School Heads.

The Elders would side with Gellan—they were old fossils who despised Colin.

As for Gellan’s bloc, needless to say.

The neutrals were few, outnumbered.

Even charitably, half at best might support Colin.

The verdict’s decided before the trial even starts.

There was no avoiding it—Colin would be cast out.

As Gellan had said on the way here, exile without ruin of body or mind might be counted mercy.

“…I wonder how they’ll answer to my master when he returns. If you yield now, I’ll accept the charges and serve penance.”

Colin still had one card—his master, the Tower Master himself.

Were he to intervene, this sham of a trial would be annulled, and the punishment reduced to what it should have been: stripping of the School Head’s title.

But none reacted to the threat.

The highest seat remained empty.

At this point, the Tower Master was often away.

I had once thought him indulging in late-life travels, but Colin had told me he was surveying druidic ruins.

Regardless, he wasn’t here. Colin’s warning was hollow.

And such a hollow threat had no effect.

“Do you think I fear a toothless Tower Master?”

“…What?”

“After you, he’s next.”

Gellan, certain of victory, revealed his ambition without shame.

He wanted the Tower’s throne.

Head of the largest school, proud scion of a fallen noble line—of course he coveted the seat.

Which meant the evidence I once used to topple him must still exist, waiting to be unearthed.

“Silence.”

The tribunal stilled.

The hostility toward us didn’t fade—if anything, it grew more brazen.

“The trial begins.”

A stage to cast Colin into the abyss.

That’s what Gellan’s bloc believed.

But they would soon realize their mistake.

This place will be your grave, Gellan.

I sat back, calmly watching the proceedings unfold.

—--

The trial advanced at breakneck pace.

Gellan had prepared for this moment, and he unleashed every scrap of evidence he had gathered.

The main charge: neglect of a School Head’s duties.

Then the usual accusations of embezzling research funds, inflating the common “perks” into scandalous crimes.

The truth was, no high-ranking mage was free from such charges.

But Gellan twisted them, exaggerating every figure, painting minor lapses as deliberate sins.

Colin protested, but against the carefully prepared evidence, his words were meaningless.

Before the trial had even ended, he was branded a criminal who had disgraced the Tower’s honor.

“…Based on this evidence, I, Gellan Busting of the Elemental School, declare that expulsion of Colin Shieger of the Juggernaut School is the only just verdict.”

He finished with a secret smile.

All according to plan.

The atmosphere was wholly in his favor.

When Gellan spoke, heads nodded.

When Colin replied, tongues clicked and heads shook.

Even neutrals began to lean with the tide.

Finally, the thorn is gone.

He had spent years gathering, altering, preparing this evidence.

No way could sloppy Colin refute it.

Fortune favors me.

Colin’s return, the Tower Master’s absence—both conditions aligned.

Now the path to Tower Master was open.

Tie this scandal to the current Master, and the old man would have no choice but to step down.

That one’s done me a great service.

The man named Allen.

A handsome face, memorable but nothing more.

Guardian of a disciple—hardly of consequence.

Such looks lingered in the mind, yet Gellan had never heard of him—so he couldn’t be anyone important.

I might have spared him, let him go with body intact… but that arrogance.

He recalled Allen’s words and his beard quivered.

How dare a nobody speak so insolently to a School Head and noble.

Ignorance or bravado—it didn’t matter.

Regret always comes too late.

Gellan would not forgive him.

“And finally—I reveal that Colin has been researching black magic, disgracing the Tower’s honor.”

“Gellan! That’s absurd!”

Even Colin, near defeat, reacted at once.

Black magic, for all its usefulness acknowledged by the city’s elites, remained forbidden heresy within the Tower.

If a School Head were guilty of it, neglect of duty was nothing in comparison—it would be ruinous.

“I present the evidence.”

Documents, testimonies, items—so carefully fabricated that no one could dismiss them outright.

And most damning of all—

“Do you recognize this, Colin?”

A subordinate produced an item from an envelope.

Colin frowned, “…The Amulet of Clarity. You gave me this as a gift.”

“I told you it was an artifact to clear the mind. But you and I both know its true function.”

The coup de grâce.

“Detection of black mana.”

The central gem, once a clear blue, was stained dark.

Colin’s eyes went wide.

“A frame-up!”

“Then how do you explain this evidence? Taken directly from your laboratory.”

“I haven’t set foot there in five years!”

“Then you’ve dabbled in black magic for five years. A word of advice—don’t add more lies to your sins.”

Colin looked crushed.

A spider’s web.

The more he struggled, the tighter it bound.

By the time he realized it, it was already too late.

Murmurs spread through the hall.

“Order!”

The Elders silenced the chamber, their gazes now heavy, solemn.

One asked, voice low and sharp:

“Gellan, can you swear what you say is true?”

“I have investigated for a long time. I stake my honor on it.”

“Hm.”

A School Head’s betrayal.

Too grave a crime for a simple tribunal.

Gellan’s preparations were thorough.

He meant to use the chaos to end the trial swiftly.

He even passed the amulet around for the assembled mages to verify the black mana themselves.

Some called for careful examination, but with evidence so clear, most saw no reason to delay.

“It is regrettable, but suspicion falls on you as well, for consorting with a criminal. Until the charges are clarified, you will suffer, but if you are innocent, the truth will be revealed. Bear it without complaint.”

Allen—he would be ruined and cast out.

Even if he was innocent, who had no stain upon them when scrutinized?

This was the end.

Gellan masked his crude excitement, waiting for the arrogant upstart’s tears of regret.

“…The Amulet of Clarity.”

At last, Allen spoke.

His voice was calm, incongruously detached from the gravity of the moment.

“As you said, it detects black mana—but its accuracy is poor.”

He rose slowly.

Green light shimmered in his blue eyes, gaze proud and level.

Did he not realize his own situation?

Unhurried, Allen walked forward toward the assembled mages.

He stretched out his hand. As if entranced, a sorceress passed the amulet to him.

Gellan’s eyes blazed.

“What are you doing! Why would you hand that to the accused—!”

“I—I don’t know, it just happened.”

She tried to recover it, but Allen stopped her with words.

“The Amulet of Clarity changes color when it detects black mana within five hundred meters—not just from the owner. Correct, Head of Juggernaut?”

“Y-yes.”

Artifacts fell under Juggernaut’s domain.

Even mid-trial, Colin’s word carried expertise none could doubt.

“Then there is no proof it was the School Head himself.”

“It was his possession! Whose black mana could it have detected, if not his?”

“That is what we are about to find out.”

Allen smiled.

A chill ran down Gellan’s spine.

He could not be allowed to continue.

Just before Gellan could interfere—

Crack!

The amulet shattered.

The Amulet of Clarity.

Its effect of detecting black mana was genuine.

But its true power was more than that.

Whoooosh!

The black mana it had detected dispersed into the air.

Murmurs swelled into uproar at Allen’s sudden act.

“What have you done—! Destroying evidence! Now your dark intent is plain!”

“Just watch.”

Gellan roared, still blind to the trap.

It was time to enlighten him.

Vmmm!

Mana was not normally visible. That was a gift granted only to some.

The dissipation of black mana should have been unseen.

But people did not know.

The Amulet’s true function was not detection—but tracking.

Fwoosh!

A spirit clung to the dispersing black mana.

The clash of opposing energies burst into flame.

The blazing trail did not point to Colin—but upward, toward the ceiling.

“Follow it.”

“What is this…?”

“Didn’t you know? The Amulet of Clarity was made not to detect, but to trace black mana.”

“Impossible! The Juggernaut School never disclosed such a thing! You must be lying to save yourself—!”

“So none of you knew why the Head of Juggernaut wandered for so long?”

Allen spoke evenly.

“He researched the analysis and countermeasures of black magic. This amulet is the proof.”

It was a lie.

Gellan knew it, yet could not deny it.

The man himself stood beside Allen.

And when the stage is set so well, the least one can do is play along.

Colin caught on quickly.

“…It’s true. That’s why I took his kin as a disciple and invited him to the Tower.”

“Since the amulet reacted in the Head’s absence, a traitor must be within the Tower itself. Perhaps the Head set this trap to unmask them…”

“You read my intent precisely.”

“As expected of the Tower Master’s disciple—such keen foresight.”

“And you, to see through it, are no less impressive.”

They played off each other seamlessly.

Gellan’s eyes shook violently.

“L-lies!”

“True or false, the trail will lead us to its source.”

Allen was certain.

It would lead back to Gellan’s own study.

Colin was no black mage.

So how had Gellan prepared this evidence?

Because he was the black mage.

Caught in your own snare.

In past cycles, he had accused me of black magic, convening a trial.

Then, the forgeries were crude, easy to dismantle.

Likely because they had been aimed at me, not Colin.

Still, unable to confess, I had broken the amulet and accused him instead.

But now it was easier.

No duel was needed. The spirits were proof enough.

“Why are you standing idle? If you want conclusive proof, Head of Juggernaut, follow the trail.”

“…”

Gellan gnashed his teeth.

Torn between doubling down or rushing back to destroy the evidence.

Allen eased his burden.

“If you’re too stiff to move, I’ll help.”

He sent a spirit to incinerate all the evidence.

Boom!

At that same instant, the tribunal doors burst open.

“Emergency! In the Elemental Head’s study—a chimera—!”

“…!”

Gellan’s face betrayed him.

One of those artifacts was for controlling it, wasn’t it?

To study black magic within the Tower itself—audacious.

I knew his excuse: his talent had plateaued, and in envy of Colin, he sought another path.

Pitiful—but hardly tragic.

Who in this world has no excuse?

“Too bad for you.”

The mood had shifted.

Mages were already drawing their staves.

I stepped toward the retreating Gellan and murmured:

“You never should’ve dared what was beyond you.”

“…!”

The taunt slashed at his pride.

Eyes rolling, Gellan roared like a beast and lunged at me.

「The World Tree roars—now is the time to strike back.」

I felt no fear.

For a druid, the true foe was a traditional mage— not a fallen one sunk into black magic.

(End of Chapter)