Red Tower

"... So..."

Lovellian closed his mouth, which had been hanging open in a daze.

"Eugene formed circles with the White Flame Formula and cast magic."

"Yes."

"He created a Fireball straightaway, without a single failed attempt, then transformed it into Magic Missile without dispelling it..."

"Yes."

"And knocked over a cabrium golem?"

"Right here."

Hera pointed at the golem's chest. Sure enough, a deep dent remained there. Lovellian stared at it, then let out a disbelieving laugh.

"... Ha. He aimed precisely at a single point."

"Even the initial shot didn't disperse."

"How pure is the cabrium?"

"I used solid cabrium for the exterior."

"And you haven't inscribed any defensive formulas?"

"Not yet."

"Is this possible?"

Lovellian murmured as he ran his hand over the golem's dent. It might lack a defensive formula, but cabrium was a pliable metal that could disperse attacks of considerable power. It was impossible for the offensive magic of a fledgling mage who had only just begun learning magic to penetrate cabrium.

"... The purity and density of his mana were absurd."

Recalling her astonishment at the time, Hera continued.

"So much so that I couldn't possibly think of him as a novice. Regardless of the range of spells he can cast, the power of his offensive magic is at least that of a third-circle mage."

"... Hmm..."

Lovellian let out a low hum and furrowed his brows.

'Eugene has three stars in the White Flame Formula.'

Reaching three stars at seventeen was unprecedented. Gilead had asked Lovellian to do his best to persuade Eugene to return to the main family if he showed no great aptitude for magic.

'The White Flame Formula creates stars at the heart. A martial core is different from a magic circle... Yet he independently adapted the White Flame Formula to take the place of circles?'

His talent was monstrous. At this point, it inspired not admiration but unease. A seventeen-year-old had controlled mana without a single mistake and used a martial mana-control method in place of circles.

Could one cast magic with a core? In theory, it wasn't impossible. Some renowned spellswords used magic that way. But Lovellian had never heard of anyone replacing circles with a core.

Why would anyone need to in the first place? Circles were circles, and cores were cores. For someone accustomed to controlling mana, creating separate circles was overwhelmingly easier.

'Is it because the White Flame Formula is special?'

He couldn't discount that possibility. The White Flame Formula had been created by Vermouth the Great. His proficiency in magic was part of what had earned him the title of All-Master. At present, there was no way to know whether Vermouth had cast magic using circles or some other method.

However, since Vermouth, the main family had never produced a mage worthy of being called an archmage.

'To put it simply, could three stars in the White Flame Formula be considered equivalent to three circles?'

Senya the Wise had classified spells according to the number of circles they required. A first-circle mage could not cast third-circle magic, because the mana controlled by one circle fell far short of what a third-circle spell required.

Of course, this wasn't an absolute standard. Occasionally, that breed of people called geniuses would cast high-level magic beyond what their circles should allow. Lovellian had done so himself. Even at the third circle, he had succeeded in casting spells as high as the fifth circle.

"... Did you say Eugene has gone out?"

"Yes. He said he had an appointment and left before noon."

"Good timing."

With that, Lovellian stepped away from the golem. He settled onto the edge of a desk and looked at Hera.

"Hera."

"Yes, Tower Master?"

"Would it be unfair for me to write Eugene a letter of recommendation for Akron?"

"... Pardon?"

Hera's eyes widened. Akron was the name of Aroth's royal library. Only high-ranking mages from the towers, highborn nobles, and royalty were allowed inside.

As befitted such an illustrious library, Akron was filled with magical tomes far superior to those in the towers. Even in the Red Tower, fewer than ten mages currently had access to Akron.

"Well..."

"I don't think so."

Lovellian folded his arms as he murmured.

"I think he's more than qualified. At seventeen, he used his core in place of circles to cast magic. The moment he began practicing, at that. He didn't have a teacher to teach him magic, either, did he? Hera, did you teach Eugene magic?"

"... I've answered a few of his questions."

"What sort of questions?"

"Questions about the basic diagrams of spell formulas."

"So you haven't instructed him in magic beyond that?"

"No."

Lovellian burst into laughter before he realized it.

"Then Eugene cast magic after spending a month reading nothing but introductory magic books. Using his core in place of circles. Without advice from any other high-ranking mage, relying purely on his own judgment and understanding. And the spell he cast punched a hole in a cabrium golem's armor."

"... Yes, that's right."

"Hera. Do you know what we call someone capable of that?"

"A genius."

"No. A monster."

As he spoke, Lovellian flicked a finger. A desk drawer opened, and a blank sheet of paper flew toward him.

"So I'm going to write the recommendation. This isn't unfair. A monster with that kind of talent deserves to be treated accordingly."

"... The other mages might object."

"Would you?"

"I have no objection. I saw what Eugene did firsthand."

"Then that's enough. You have no objection because you've seen his talent. What Eugene accomplished is that remarkable."

Lovellian took up a pen and began writing the recommendation on the blank sheet.

"Anyone who objects is refusing to acknowledge the facts, blinded by envy."

Of course, a recommendation alone might not secure an entry pass to Akron. That didn't matter. If necessary, he would argue with the other tower masters. If all else failed, he would personally select magical tomes and pass them on to Eugene.

'Or take him as my apprentice.'

Would that be better instead? Seriously considering the question, Lovellian checked the recommendation he had written.

"... By the way, what appointment did Eugene go out for? He shouldn't know anyone in Aroth."

"He said he was meeting a friend."

"A friend?"

When had he made a friend in Aroth? Lovellian tilted his head and stamped his seal on the recommendation.

* * *

Merdein Square, in front of the Green Tower.

At the center of the square, named after Senya's surname, stood a towering statue of her holding a staff in her right hand and a magical tome in her left.

'Looks better than the real thing.'

Eugene thought this as he looked up at the statue. As with the portrait, the statue's face was a little more beautiful than the Senya he remembered. Or did it look exactly like her? He studied its face, pondering the question.

In his memories, Senya had often looked irritated. Helmuth had been a particularly shitty place, and their journey had been arduous. It was a damned place where irritation inevitably wore you down.

["Please."]

["That's why... That's why I told you. I told you to just go back. Why did you have to be stubborn and follow us..."]

Her irritated face.

But even clearer in his memory was her crying face. Tears dripping from her reddened eyes...

["Please, don't die."]

["No... No, please, Hamel."]

His memories of the moment he died were a little hazy. He hadn't been able to hear the sounds around him clearly, either... In any case, he thought that was what Senya had said. Eugene scratched his head vigorously and sighed.

The statue wasn't crying. It wore a confident smile. He knew that expression. Irritable as Senya had been, whenever she accomplished something spectacular with her magic, she would wear that look as if to show it off.

"... Maybe it isn't so different from the real thing."

Muttering this, Eugene turned away.

Like Senya's mansion, Merdein Square charged an absurdly high admission fee. As a result, it wasn't packed to bursting. The price was one reason, but that enormous statue was also visible from a distance without entering the square.

Eugene sat on a bench and watched the entrance. The distant clock tower showed noon.

'He should be here soon.'

They had agreed to meet at noon. Surely he hadn't been unable to enter because he couldn't afford admission. Was the crowd holding him up?

'Apparently not.'

He spotted a figure far larger than everyone else. There was no need for him to shove the people blocking his path. Overwhelmed by his immense size, they quietly made way. Before long, the huge man entered the square.

Eugene rose from the bench. The man drew steadily closer.

"I can't believe it."

Eugene meant every word. Gargis Lionheart. This was their first meeting since the Bloodline Succession Ceremony four years ago, and the bastard's growth was unbelievable.

"Eugene?"

"Are you really Gargis?"

Eugene looked up at Gargis. He seemed to be over two meters tall. He had been big before, but now he was large enough to completely obscure Eugene. The buttons straining over his broad, bulging chest trembled pitifully.

"Indeed. Gargis Lionheart. Have you forgotten my name already?"

"No... I haven't forgotten... But you... Are you really eighteen?"

His size was one thing, but that bushy beard was astonishing. Could an eighteen-year-old even grow a beard like that? Eugene rubbed his own still-smooth upper lip.

"People often tell me I look older than I am."

"This goes way beyond looking older... What's with that damn beard? Shave it off. It looks filthy."

"It's not filthy. It's manly."

"You look plenty manly without growing a beard."

"Thank you for the compliment."

Gargis grinned. He extended a massive hand, offering a handshake. When Eugene accepted it, Gargis seized his hand and shook it as though he had been waiting for the opportunity.

"You've grown quite a bit too, though not as much as I have."

"... You're just ridiculously huge."

"But I'm a little disappointed..."

"What?"

"I can tell from holding your hand how much you've trained your body over the past four years... But this isn't enough."

"Let go of my hand first."

After vigorously shaking their clasped hands, Gargis let go. But he kept talking.

"Your physique is much better than it was four years ago, but it's not enough. Are you training sufficiently?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I sleep four hours a day."

What was this bastard suddenly on about? Eugene frowned, having forgotten what he had once said himself. Gargis thrust out his chest and continued.

"Apart from sleep, I spend all my time training. My personal utensils have been magically weighted, as has everything I use—even my clothes."

"Uh... Sure."

"My underwear too."

"Wonderful."

"This body was built through training and hard work. Of course, simply adding weight doesn't make muscles grow. Sufficient rest, appropriate training, and this."

Gargis reached into his coat's inner pocket.

"My family's secret muscle-growth tonic."

He produced a small potion. After gazing at it proudly, he held it out to Eugene.

"I brought it for you."

"I don't need it."

"Why not? Sir Gerhard lost weight and gained muscle thanks to our family's help. Surely you know that?"

"Speaking of which, stop sending me that weird medicine through my father."

"That's why I'm giving it to you personally. It's fine to drink before a meal, so down it now."

"I'm not drinking it."

"I don't understand... I've heard you reached three stars in the White Flame Formula. That's a great achievement, but you mustn't neglect training your body in favor of training your mana."

"I'll take care of it myself."

Eugene refused to take the potion to the end. Unwilling to hear another word about muscles, he walked past Gargis.

"So why did you want to meet? Don't tell me you came all the way to Aroth to give me that medicine."

He had received a letter from Gargis a few days earlier. It said he had business in Aroth and wanted to meet up after so long.

"I do have other business here."

"What?"

"Didn't I tell you before? Our family's secret muscle-growth tonic was created by a renowned alchemist in Aroth."

With a sense of regret, Gargis returned the potion to his inner pocket.

"But now that my body has grown, the existing mixture no longer satisfies me. When I told him, he said he would adjust the mixture to suit my body."

"So you came to see the alchemist?"

"That's my main business, but I have something else to do too."

"You certainly have a lot to do."

"Aroth is far away. Since I'm coming here anyway, I ought to make the trip worthwhile."

The ground seemed to tremble a little with each step Gargis took. Eugene edged away as Gargis approached his side.

"Why are you avoiding me?"

"Your armpits stink."

"They don't stink. That's a man's natural scent."

"Put on some cologne."

"You sound exactly like Dezra..."

"So what's your other business?"

"Hmm."

Rather than answer immediately, Gargis glanced around. People in the square were looking their way. Though he wasn't wearing a Lionheart uniform, his sheer size inevitably drew attention.

"... Do you know Bolero Street?"

"I do."

Eward. The place that damned bastard kept frequenting.

"Do you know about its auction house too?"

"More or less. Why? Is there something you want to buy?"

"I heard a rumor that a giant's testicles will be up for sale at the coming auction."

"Test... What?"

"A giant's testicles."

"Why the fuck would you buy those?"

"Don't you know? Giants' testicles have tremendous magical value."

"It's not like you're buying fucking testicles to use for magic."

"Of course not. I intend to give them to the alchemist."

Eugene knew about giants too. They were a race as rare as elves, but their disposition was the exact opposite. Three hundred years ago, their entire race had sworn allegiance to the Demon King of Destruction.

Though he had never reached the Demon King of Destruction's castle... he had clashed with giants several times while traveling through Helmuth. They could withstand most magic with their bare bodies and bring down mountains merely by shouting.

"Come with me."

"Where?"

"To the auction house. I've brought plenty of money, but it might not be enough."

"You want to borrow money?"

"I swear on my name that I'll repay you with interest."

"No."

"I'll get on my knees and beg."

Gargis bent down. Appalled, Eugene grabbed his shoulders.

"Fine, just stop drawing attention. You're already a huge bastard."

"Thank you."

"For what? Lending you money?"

"For saying I'm huge. That's a compliment, isn't it?"