CHAPTER 63: CHAPTER 63: THE FORGE AND THE ARCHMAGE

The Mage Tower stood within the Mage Academy, and the Academy itself had been built atop the city’s most critical location—the underground fire vein.

As soon as Ryan entered the Mage Academy, he felt warmth flood through his body. In this dead of winter, within the Academy’s bounds, he felt the heat of summer.

It stirred a sense of awe in his heart.

Following the information Grand Duke Moriarty had given him earlier, Ryan located a noblewoman who was also a mage—and an apprentice of the Archmage.

"Miss Olive."

Ryan performed a noble’s formal greeting, which the woman returned with equal grace.

"Viscount Whitman."

Strictly speaking, the woman held the title of Baroness, while Ryan bore the higher rank of Viscount. But titles mattered less in the current situation—what truly mattered was that her mentor was an Archmage.

"Mr. Moriarty explained your visit in his letter," Olive said. "But the Archmage—my teacher—hasn’t decided when she’ll see you."

Ryan didn’t seem particularly anxious; after all, he had up to three days to wait.

"I’ve always longed to visit the Mage Academy. I’ve exchanged ideas with Mage Luna before, and now I finally get to see this place."

As he spoke, Ryan took in a deep breath, almost greedily savoring the air. Hearing him mention Mage Luna, Olive’s eyes lit up.

"You’ve met Mage Luna? Do you know if she’s successfully advanced?"

To the Mage Academy, Luna was a living legend. She’d relied on no one and surpassed countless others to become a Grand Magus. Even the three current Archmages had once said that if it had been fifty years earlier, Luna would surely have reached the rank of Sanctum Mage—and a hundred years earlier, even Legendary Mage wouldn’t have been out of reach.

Under the cruelest of winters, no one in the Academy had ever surpassed Luna’s innate talent.

In fact, even the potatoes currently helping relieve the city’s food shortage had once been sent back by Mage Luna.

"We didn’t speak much," Ryan replied. "Mage Luna... isn’t one for conversation. A genius who keeps to herself."

"She is a genius indeed," Olive affirmed, and her tone toward Ryan grew warmer, evidently accepting his acquaintance with Luna as genuine.

She then led Ryan on a casual tour of the Mage Academy.

"Some areas are reserved for mages to meditate—others are not allowed near."

The Academy was large, but many parts were restricted. Before long, Ryan had already mapped out most of the layout in his mind.

"I’ve heard that the City of the Forge and the Mage Academy can resist the cold of winter only because of the underground fire vein. I recall Mage Luna mentioning..."

Ryan looked at Olive and continued:

"That fire... it won’t last forever, will it?"

His words caused a flicker of unease to cross Olive’s face. She hadn’t expected that the city’s greatest secret had already been leaked.

But remembering that it was Luna who told him, her anger faded, replaced with resignation.

"You’re right. The City of the Forge is nearly exhausted."

At that moment, Mage Olive’s expression was one of quiet despair. This was the warmest place on the continent of Echsneal, and soon, it too would be swallowed by the winter.

"Please, Viscount Whitman... don’t speak of this to others. Otherwise, the city will descend into chaos."

"Don’t worry. I understand," Ryan replied with a sigh.

Just then, Olive seemed to sense something. She turned to Ryan and said:

"Viscount, my teacher has agreed to meet with you."

"Thank you."

Olive led Ryan to the base of a tall tower. Before them stood a magnificent structure, its aged surface marked with subtle arcane inscriptions. Ryan felt as though the building didn’t belong to this era at all.

The Mage Tower—one of the most powerful magical constructions in existence.

Awe rose within Ryan as he followed Olive inside. They climbed the spiral staircase, but the tower’s interior was not as spacious as he’d imagined.

"There are many magical seals here," Olive explained. "What’s inside isn’t meant to be exposed to the public. Especially my teacher’s research subjects—if released before they’re complete, they could cause major trouble."

An Archmage who commanded a Mage Tower held not only personal power, but mastery over vast, forbidden knowledge.

Soon, Ryan reached the top floor and met one of the three Archmages of the City of the Forge.

"Greetings, Archmage Amethyst."

As an Archmage, one could conceal their true name, for names could become vulnerabilities. Possessing a title also signified the mage’s formidable strength.

"Amethyst" was the name of the Mage Tower—and by extension, the Archmage’s own title.

Strictly speaking, only mages who had reached Legendary rank should bear a title, but few questioned an Archmage’s right to one.

The Archmage nodded at Ryan. She appeared elderly and frail, the vitality of youth long since gone.

"The Whitman family... I met your grandfather long ago—or was it your great-grandfather?" she said softly. "As nobles, they were competent. I myself once received assistance from your house."

"I’m glad to see you’ve survived this winter."

"To serve an Archmage is the Whitman family’s great honor," Ryan replied humbly, fully stepping into the role of Viscount Whitman.

"You’ve come to me—what is it you wish to say?"

As she spoke, the Archmage placed a piece of amethyst crystal on the table. Ryan’s eyes widened: within the gem was the emblem of the Whitman family.

But instead of asking about it, Ryan addressed the more urgent matter:

"Archmage, after the last invasion by the cultists, the City of the Forge has no food left for the winter. If this continues, within ten days, half the city will starve to death."

"Starve?" the Archmage said. "Then let them starve. Death by starvation is preferable to becoming sacrifices for demons."

A trace of fear flickered in her eyes.

Her response stunned not only Ryan, but also Olive, who stared at her teacher in disbelief.

"Teacher..."

She remembered that her teacher hadn’t always been so cold. Ten years ago, she had even proposed that the three Archmages once again break open the frozen seas, hoping Crescent Lake would yield more fish.

By contrast, Ryan remained calm.

He looked at the Archmage and asked:

"Respected Archmage, is there a problem with the fire vein?"

The Archmage gazed at him and nodded after a brief pause.

"The fire vein began failing ten years ago. We rallied dozens of mages and used ancient scrolls left by our forebears to cast a legendary spell—creating the Fire Furnace to seal and slow the fire’s decline."

"But after ten years, the furnace is failing too. It can no longer preserve what remains."

"Luna left the City of the Forge because of this. She knew the city could no longer support her ascension to Archmage."

"Just yesterday, the furnace dimmed again. The temperature dropped by over a hundred degrees."

"There is no more fire beneath this city."

She stared directly at Ryan.

"So, even if we had enough food—most of the people in this city... still wouldn’t survive this winter."