The collapse of the Bohemirn Magic Tower.
That news spread like a snowball, not only throughout the magical community but to neighboring nations as well.
The fact that the tower's power source went out of control, vaporizing dozens of mages and paralyzing all functions of the tower, was an unprecedented event.
The other nine magic towers immediately initiated emergency inspections of their power sources, which in turn led to a scarcity of tower-manufactured products. The tower masters themselves were investigating the cause, but nothing had been uncovered yet.
That was as far as the newspapers of each nation reported.
However, as the news passed from mouth to mouth, various suspicions arose.
Rumors spread through the streets—of divine punishment, a terrorist attack, or an unidentified experiment. All of them, without exception, were ominous.
Even reaching as far as the city of magic, Virente.
"Alright, form a line! Line up!"
The spatial teleportation station in Virente, capable of instantly transporting people across thousands of kilometers. People stood in line in front of it, receiving guidance from staff.
The cost of a single trip could reach tens of millions of Elks, so the main clients were the wealthy or those in relatively high social standing.
A wealthy merchant looked at his watch and frowned.
'It's taking especially long today.'
Time is money.
It was deeply unpleasant to waste time in a place like this when work was waiting.
He wanted to cut ahead right away, but his pride wouldn't allow it. Bribing the staff wouldn't work either. Worse, he could end up blacklisted by Virente.
'I'm trying to be patient here, and yet…!'
A woman with red hair was walking past him without lining up.
Judging by the flustered look on the staff member's face, she wasn't someone authorized.
'How can someone be so shameless?'
Suddenly, the merchant smiled as if the timing were perfect.
He needed someone to vent his frustration on anyway, and scolding a line-cutter like her would be the perfect release.
The merchant approached her.
"Tsk tsk, no matter how urgent it is, cutting in line like this? Everyone else is waiting patiently. Don't you even have the basic decency a person should have… uh…"
The merchant's face gradually froze.
The thick bloodlust of overwhelming magic power pierced his skin. Her red eyes, glaring at him as if to kill, looked as though they were soaked in blood.
"Get lost."
"Yes, ma'am."
The merchant immediately turned and returned to his place. Knowing when not to get involved was a virtue every merchant should possess.
The woman who had chased off the nuisance, Rovellin, continued what she was saying.
"As I said, I'm affiliated with the Bohemirn Magic Tower. Secure me a gate slot immediately."
"Yes, I-I understand, and we have received orders from the top to prioritize transporting mages from Bohemirn, but we still need to confirm your identity…"
"Immediately."
"Yes, ma'am."
At this point, she had done more than enough. Overwhelmed by Rovellin's presence, the staff member teared up slightly as he led the way.
The affiliated tower had collapsed. No one wanted to get in the way of someone from there. Seeing her murderous expression, even the station manager broke out in a sweat as he barely managed to secure Rovellin's slot.
[For first-time users, symptoms such as nausea or dizziness may occur. In case of emergency, please inform a staff member. Now initiating teleportation.]
Vwooom…!
A violet light flashed. An enormous surge of magic power swept in and engulfed the travelers.
When she opened her eyes again, what she saw was the city in the Arnak Empire—her destination. Rovellin immediately rose into the air after disengaging the safety restraint.
As she flew at full speed, the voice of the staff member yelling behind her quickly faded into the distance.
'Please, please, please, please…!'
As her mana approached its limit, she chugged down an expensive mana potion. Despite the side effects of addiction kicking in, she ignored them and maintained her speed.
After several hours of nonstop flight, she finally saw the Magic Tower of Bohemirn.
Contrary to what she had heard, the exterior was intact. However, it was clear that the tower master's security magic circle had vanished.
Landing on the ground, she looked around.
Lower-ranked mages and workers were hauling various equipment out of the tower.
'That means… Verden must be alive too, right?'
Verden was at the very bottom of the hierarchy. Judging by the lack of casualties among similarly ranked mages, it was likely he had survived too. Naturally, he should be safe.
Whew, Rovellin sighed in relief and approached a familiar researcher.
"Ah, Lady Rovellin, you're here?"
"Just now. But where is Verden?"
"V-Verden?"
The researcher hesitated, then pointed in a direction. At the end stood a large bulletin board.
Letters written in magic power shimmered.
[List of the Missing]
No way.
Rovellin hurriedly scanned the list. Among the names were a few she recognized by face. Of course, she had no personal connection to them.
There was no time to mourn. She moved on.
Stop. Her eyes froze at one name.
Missing person No. 32, Verden.
Believed to have been exposed to mana from the power source while assisting a duty mage in the control room. No body recovered.
"…Ah…"
She checked again. Same result. Opening and closing her eyes didn't change the letters.
The death of the person closest to her.
She burned with a cold fire. More than tears, she felt anger. More than sorrow, she felt vengeance.
Who, why, how, for what?
With no answers, Rovellin's signature red magic power boiled over. The sensation, like being stabbed with a hot needle, made those nearby flinch and retreat.
At that moment, someone approached her.
"Stop. Lashing out at others won't change anything."
"…Tower Master."
The Bohemirn Tower Master, Balrog Bessias.
He lightly suppressed Rovellin's mana.
"Your magic power has become sharper than before. Ordinary humans wouldn't be able to endure it."
"What on earth happened at the tower?"
"You see it for yourself. The power source went berserk, obliterating every mage in the core—including the administrators. On top of that, all critical data and records were erased, and even the magic circles in the vault were damaged beyond recovery."
A vein bulged on the tower master's forehead. Naturally so.
Among his prized collections were the Second Circuit, an unopened magic tome, the Breath of the Elements, mana crystals, and the Ring of Runes—all lost in an instant.
He had never imagined losing them in such a ridiculous way, considering how much money he had invested.
'And Experiment No. 77, on top of that.'
Experiment No. 77, Verden.
If only the guy's head had remained, he might've been able to extract the memories and recover at least part of the lost records and results.
Each and every loss was enough to drive him mad.
That kind of possibility—someone destroying the magic circles and stealing the treasures—never even crossed the tower master's mind. He didn't even consider it. When it came to magic circles, Balrog Bessias was the ultimate authority.
It was the confidence, or rather the arrogance, of a transcendent.
The tower master calmed his anger and spoke.
"Still, there's no need to be too disappointed. We just barely missed the one who caused the power source to go berserk, but we did manage to uncover a rat that was hiding."
What?
Rovellin turned around.
"What do you mean by that?"
"On the day of the Magic Festival, the mage who was in charge of the control room was a 4th-tier mage named Horace. He disappeared. Just three hours before the power source went berserk."
And he never returned. Naturally, it raised suspicion.
Balrog went as far as borrowing the power of other magic towers to track his whereabouts and past. And from that, something very noteworthy came up.
Balrog pulled a small emblem from inside his coat.
"This is…"
An inverted triangle with a sinister eye within.
It was the symbol of the death mage group that moved in the shadows—Black Hour.
"I don't know how they infiltrated the magic tower or triggered the power source to go out of control. But it's clear they're involved."
Crack. The emblem twisted in his grip.
Now that they had a lead, the Bohemirn Magic Tower would focus all its power on finding the culprit. Even if it meant the restoration of the tower would be indefinitely delayed.
The annihilation of those connected to the collapse of the tower.
Balrog's, and the Magic Tower of Bohemirn's, new objective was to erase every trace of those bastards from existence.
"So I'm planning to form a new extermination unit directly under my command, for the destruction of Black Hour. I've already thought of the general members. You're technically a low rank, Rovellin, but you're included… Will you follow?"
"Yes."
Revenge.
Her answer had already been decided.
***
Verden, having received a message, visited the adventurers' guild in the territory of Pythe.
It wasn't a favorable location for adventurers, so the guild was relatively small. On top of that, since many valuable adventurers had died just days ago, it was quieter than usual.
After receiving directions and heading to the guild master's office, a rather dopey-looking man appeared.
"You're… Lord Asher, correct? Ah, I'm sorry. I heard about you, but you look quite different from what I imagined… N-not in a bad way, of course. Please, have a seat."
Verden and the guild master sat across from each other at the desk.
He seemed far too nervous to be the leader of a guild, but given how small this branch was, it made some sense.
The guild master cleared his throat and opened his mouth.
"F-First of all, let me apologize about what happened. We set the threat level of that orc as high as we could and sent our best gold-rank adventurer, but for things to turn out this way…"
"It's fine. It was unavoidable, something that happened by chance."
It truly was fine.
Verden hadn't suffered any damage, and he wasn't the type to hold a nearly-bankrupt guild accountable just to squeeze out a bit of compensation.
He was going to get paid anyway.
"So then. How much did the guild calculate for the reward?"
"Ah, yes. That would be… Here's the settlement."
The total subjugation reward originally intended for the adventurers was 6 million Elks.
However, the clown orc exceeded the risk level assessed by the guild, so additional compensation was included. On top of that, they had recovered the body of a demi-human that had never been discovered before, so there was a matching reward for that too.
Total: 24 million Elks.
But Verden was only paid 12 million Elks. It was a tax issue.
"You may already know this, but outsiders who are not registered adventurers are subject to a mandatory 50% tax. It's a law, and if we go beyond the set amount, it's considered embezzlement. However, there's exactly one way to avoid this extreme taxation."
"You want me to become an adventurer."
"Ah! You already know! That's right. In our guild, the higher your rank, the less tax you pay. For adventurers below silver rank, it's 20%, and for gold-rank adventurers, it's 15%. As your rank goes higher, the tax can be reduced to as low as 5%. Usually, one starts at the lowest rank, White Crest, but in Lord Asher's case, it's a special one. So we'd start at silver rank, and we'd only apply a special 15% tax…"
The nervous demeanor from earlier vanished as the guild master now spoke like a flowing river. He could have been mistaken for a merchant.
'So recruiting me was the goal. No wonder he came out so humble.'
It made sense, really.
From the guild's perspective, they needed something to make up for their losses. And when they found out Verden was unaffiliated—
If they could acquire a mage with gold-rank-level ability using just money, it would be the ideal outcome for the guild.
Understandable.
But not something Verden needed to concern himself with.
"Let's settle it as is."
"Y-Yes? But the taxes…"
"I don't care."
Adventurer or mercenary, he had no intention of joining any organization right now.
'It hasn't even been that long since I left the magic tower.'
He had no desire to chain himself down for short-term gain.
This freedom was Verden's and Verden's alone.
"…Understood."
The guild master handed over the money with a clearly disappointed expression.
Verden gauged the amount with a glance, then tucked the thick wad of bills into his coat.
Only one task remained now.
"What about the matter I mentioned in advance?"
"You mean the orc's corpse. It's being safely stored in a warehouse to prevent decay. A dissection specialist from another branch is scheduled to handle it tomorrow. But… what exactly do you plan to do with it? Just to be clear, you must not damage it. According to the contract, it now clearly belongs to the guild."
As if he hadn't been so deferential just moments ago, the guild master drew a clear line with Verden.
He had refused the offer, so there was no need to stay polite. That was probably the reasoning.
It was the same attitude typical of the prideful mages from the magic towers—submissive to those above, arrogant to those below. Verden was so used to it that he wasn't even offended.
"I only need to take a quick look. Don't worry."