“……!”

A wave of shock rippled through the hall.

The great gate swung wide, and the gathered magi rubbed their eyes and pinched their cheeks, unable to believe it.

The protective wards of the Tower Master’s chamber had been undone.

No one had ever imagined such a thing could even be possible.

They wished it were an illusion—yet the sight before them was all too real.

‘Unbelievable…’

Colin swallowed a curse.

He had guessed Allen might have some trick up his sleeve, but never had he imagined something this outrageous.

‘How in the world…?’

Catching a dark mage was one thing. But this? This was on another level entirely.

Breaking the Tower’s wards wasn’t something that could be faked—it was pure magical mastery.

And Colin, as the Tower Master’s disciple, knew better than most just how absolute those protections were.

Without the deepest magical foundation, such a feat was impossible.

‘And he calls himself a mercenary?’

How could a hired hand accomplish what even the Tower’s own magi could not?

It was the kind of nonsense unfit even for tavern jokes.

“This… this is fraud!”

After a long silence, someone finally shouted.

It summed up what everyone felt.

“Fraud?”

“There’s no way! He’s no Tower mage—what trick could he have pulled?!”

“Yes, there must’ve been some mistake!”

The mood soured quickly.

Colin was just about to calm the heated room when—

“Enough.”

The voice that cut through the uproar belonged to none other than Derman, who had protested the loudest before.

“And you call yourselves Tower mages? To deny what you witnessed with your own eyes, and to dismiss it with slander?”

“……”

The murmurs died at once.

For all his stubbornness, Derman was a man who kept his word.

Infuriating when he opposed you, but nothing steadier when he stood as ally.

With a single rebuke, he silenced every complaint. Then, with a heavy sigh, he spoke again.

“My apologies. I was rash.”

“There’s no need.”

Allen’s calm never wavered.

Now that Colin thought about it, it had been the same from the very start—when Allen first walked into the chamber amid scorn, when he declared he’d prove himself.

From the beginning, he had carried himself as though he already knew how it would end.

Every step measured, every reaction prepared, as if he had foreseen every possibility.

‘What are you really…?’

This was no mere mercenary, to be dismissed out of hand.

‘Not a fallen noble, then? Some hidden elf bloodline, or lost royalty?’

Though nobility had faded, such a feat demanded a pedigree beyond belief.

‘Or… perhaps this “Druid” he spoke of is bound to the Tower’s past?’

Colin forced himself to calm down.

It was too early to judge.

Whatever the truth, one thing was clear—Allen was someone worth clinging to, no matter the cost.

“Your qualification has been proven. And since I spoke, I will bear the responsibility.”

Derman’s declaration was final.

Though Allen was no mage, he had earned the Tower’s recognition as an honored guest.

To oppose further would be shameless.

The rest of the elders lowered their eyes in reluctant acceptance.

“We are grateful for your grace.”

“And… forgive me another question, but would you share how you managed it?”

Every ear in the chamber leaned forward at that.

Allen smiled faintly.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”

A sigh swept the room.

They had expected as much, yet still the disappointment was sharp.

“Then at least—would you consider joining the Tower formally?”

From Derman, that was no small offer.

For a man so rigidly bound to tradition to extend such an invitation to a non-mage—it was unheard of.

“I’m afraid I cannot. I’ve no wish to join the Tower.”

“What?”

The refusal hit like a thunderclap.

Even Colin glanced sharply at Allen, urging him to reconsider—but Allen’s answer did not change.

A direct invitation from a Tower elder was a rare fortune. To refuse it outright was audacious beyond belief.

“Of course, I do hope to maintain good relations with the Tower. Especially as the child I’ve taken in will be learning here.”

“…I see.”

Not severing ties, but redefining them.

A transaction of favors, spoken with elegance.

“…Very well. Colin!”

“Y-yes!”

“See that no mischief occurs in the Tower Master’s chamber. The responsibility is yours.”

“Understood.”

Favor or not, Derman knew how to separate duty from sentiment.

Colin escorted Allen forward—into the chamber even he had visited but a handful of times.

“Truly, you won’t reconsider? Seeing you now, I think you belong in the Tower more than your pupil…”

Colin tried one last time, but Allen only smiled softly in reply.

The Tower Master’s quarters—the apex of the Tower—were everything one would expect of a magus’s domain.

Bookshelves crammed with tomes covered the walls. Papers and diagrams overflowed the desks. Strange brews bubbled in flasks.

Crystal spheres flickered with glimpses of faraway places, while the visages of former Tower Masters shimmered in holographic portraits.

“Tch. Couldn’t he tidy up, at least a little?”

Colin grumbled.

I shot him a look—his own quarters were worse, and he knew it.

With a cough, he tried to cover his embarrassment.

“Don’t touch anything. Half of this stuff is warded—you could die just brushing against the wrong one… hm. Well, maybe not you.”

Halfway through, he seemed to recall just what Allen had already done, and his words faltered.

Leaving him to search, I stood quietly.

‘I could only unravel the chamber’s wards. Everything else is beyond me.’

The knowledge was in my head, yes—but with this body, without magic of my own, there was no telling what hidden spells might lash out.

“Now… where was it…”

While Colin rifled through the clutter, I let my eyes wander.

Memories stirred.

I’d been summoned here many times before—thanks to the endless complaints of Seiji, Gellan, and countless other meddlers.

Because of that, I knew this place better than most.

Tch. There’s so much here worth taking.

Cloaks, hoods, staves, elixirs, grimoires.

Each one worth a fortune.

The items of an archmage—each with unrivaled power.

And my memory whispered of which would serve me best, urging me to reach out.

If Colin stayed absorbed long enough, he’d never notice…

「The World Tree reveals a restless curiosity.」

In a flash, the World Tree’s tendrils tugged a book from a shelf and flipped it open.

Like a child begging for a story.

Since Colin was still busy, I indulged it to quiet my own temptations.

The tome chronicled the history of the city and the Tower together.

I knew the lore well enough—but this was no common text. The Tower Master’s personal copy brimmed with details I’d never seen.

One illustration seized my attention.

A colossal tree, rooted at the edge of an uncharted continent.

“……”

There was no mistaking it.

The World Tree.

The image extended onto another page—but half the parchment had decayed, crumbled away to dust.

Even so, what remained spoke volumes.

‘The World Tree was recorded by the Tower.’

No public chronicle bore such mention.

That meant its record was secret, kept only among the city’s uppermost.

‘Why record it, then conceal it? What truth lies behind it?’

Just as my class, Druid, had been a hidden truth of the game, so too was this a buried secret.

Ominous indeed.

Especially that missing half of the image…

“There you are!”

Colin’s triumphant cry pulled me back.

In his hand was a carved wooden figurine—at which the World Tree immediately flared with interest.

At once, it reached out and restored the item.

「Totem of Concealment

—Carved from willow.

—Blessed by the wind, it grants the bearer the power to mask their presence.」

「Totem of Healing…」

─A totem carved from lacquer tree.

─Its medicinal properties seep into the body, enhancing the bearer’s regenerative ability.”

─Trap Totem.

─Carved from the snarewood tree.

─It transforms the terrain it is placed on into a trap.”

“Strange indeed. Just a touch from that tendril, and these relics regain their power.”

Leaving Colin’s admiration behind, I studied the restored totems.

They were all useful in their own right.

Among them, the Trap Totem caught my eye.

‘Transforming an area into a trap…’

The applications were endless.

It was carved from ordinary wood—no magical charge, no stored mana.

Without direct, physical verification, no one would notice until it was too late.

In this world of advanced magi-engineering, such assumptions could prove fatal.

“Is this all?”

A twinge of disappointment lingered.

Totems were handy, yes, but if this was all the relics retrieved from the ruins, then the haul was underwhelming.

“No, there’s one more—but for that, I needed you.”

Colin led me deeper in.

To the space directly behind the Tower Master’s desk.

A place usually reserved for storing or displaying what mattered most.

“This.”

He pointed to a glass cylinder, small enough to hold in both hands.

Protective spells shimmered faintly across its surface: levitation charms, shock wards, at least the handiwork of a master-tier mage.

A container fit only for something precious.

Curiosity welled up inside me.

And within—

“An egg?”

“I thought it was a stone. You saw through it at once.”

Not smooth and oval, but ridged, its shell layered like scales.

At a glance, one might mistake it for rock or mineral.

Even its texture looked no different from stone.

Colin praised my eye, but it wasn’t anything special.

It was experience.

He had assumed stone—anyone would.

‘Even in a fantasy world, this kind of egg?’

I had hunted legendary beasts, but never had I seen one like this.

Bird? Reptile? Fish? Impossible to tell.

Even the Tower’s archives, a hoard of ages, had no answer.

“Have you tried to hatch it?”

“Of course. Nothing happened.”

Colin launched into a long tale of his master’s scoldings.

He always did talk too much.

I half-listened, eyes fixed on the egg.

Something about it felt… familiar.

‘The World Tree’s seed I stole from that factory… it looked just like this.’

Even I, versed in plants, hadn’t recognized it then.

And now, once more, the same riddle.

Tremble—

As though spellbound, my hand reached out.

「The World Tree feels a powerful pull.」

The same reaction as with the spirit’s cocoon.

Another relic of the Druids.

That must be the clue.

“Do you know what it is?”

“Perhaps, if I touch it.”

“Wait, let me unlock—”

Excited, Colin began to move.

But before he could—

Vrrrm!

The glass tube shook.

Cracks spider-webbed its surface, spells buckled, mana flared.

I staggered back, startled.

“Wh—what have you done! I told you to wait!”

Colin’s voice was panicked, accusatory.

But I had done nothing.

Before I could defend myself, the change came.

Crash!

The container shattered, wards collapsing.

Its protections gone, the egg would fall and break.

I lunged and caught it in time.

“Tch.”

The jagged scales bit into my palm.

Blood trickled down the grooves, staining the shell.

And then—

「Druid’s blood resonates!」

「The egg begins to hatch!」

Crk—!

“Wha—what?!”

Colin gaped.

I too was shaken.

The egg’s scaly surface splintered apart.

It was hatching.

And then, bursting free—

A creature no bigger than a fist.

Screee!

Its shrill cry tore at the ears.

With that cry, the fluid clinging to its wings was cast off.

A razor-sharp beak and talons. Wings far too large for its tiny frame. Feathers shimmering with a greenish sheen.

「The Sentinel Hawk has recognized its master.」

「The Sentinel Hawk shall serve the bloodline of the Druid for all eternity.」

A hawk.

So the system named it: Sentinel Hawk.

“It—it hatched?”

Flap!

Colin’s voice was dazed.

The hawk only snorted proudly in reply.

“Sentinel Hawk?”

“A creature that serves the Druid’s bloodline as master.”

The hawk perched proudly on my shoulder, chest puffed out.

As though it knew it was the subject.

I stroked its wings, and it closed its eyes, nuzzling my hand.

‘First plants, now beasts.’

Unexpected, but not strange.

Druids were never bound to flora alone.

In truth, they were priests of all nature.

“I’ve never heard of a Sentinel Hawk…”

Nor had I.

I merely repeated what the system had told me.

Screee!

“Eek.”

Colin, jealous of my petting, reached out.

The hawk spread its beak wide in threat.

「The Sentinel Hawk allows no touch but its master’s!」

「Handle with care!」

Almost like reading from an instruction manual.

“Seems it won’t leave you. They say hatchlings bond to the first they see… is that it?”

“Or perhaps it’s because it only serves Druids, rejecting all others.”

“Either way, I can’t reclaim it. Magi don’t study beasts anyway, so I wouldn’t have kept it.”

Colin only laughed it off, unconcerned.

“Then all the relics I brought back from the ruins are duds. After years of study… what a letdown.”

“…That’s unfortunate.”

“Not really. Better than wasting a lifetime chasing dead ends. Now I can focus wholly on training my disciples.”

He shrugged, already free of regret, gazing instead at the hawk with faint amusement.

“So—is your business in the Tower complete now?”

“…Almost. There is one more thing I must ask.”

“Speak. After what you’ve done for me, I’d grant any favor.”

In truth, reclaiming the Druid’s relics had been only a side pursuit.

“What I need… is information on the Endless Spring.”

For the World Tree’s growth.

From the Tower, where I had already gained much, I would claim that as well.

(End of Chapter)