27 - Monster
Far from the peaceful gardens of the Forebros Grand Dukedom, where roses swayed beneath warm sunlight, another place existed where light rarely touched.
The Magic Tower.
It rose from a barren stretch of land like a jagged black spear piercing the sky. Clouds seemed to avoid it. Even the wind moved strangely around the structure, as if unwilling to linger too long. Inside, the air hummed with raw mana.
Ancient runes carved into the stone walls pulsed faintly, absorbing and circulating magic through every floor of the tower. At the very top, a circular chamber rested beneath a massive domed ceiling etched with glowing sigils. Five figures sat around a long obsidian table.
Each of them wore robes adorned with intricate runic patterns.
The sheer density of magic surrounding them distorted the air itself, causing the candle flames nearby to bend and flicker unnaturally.
These were the five Archmages.
The most powerful magic users in the empire.
Some called them scholars. Others called them disasters.
And the rest simply feared them. For centuries, the Magic Tower had produced many talented mages. But only five had reached the pinnacle.
Archmage.
A title that meant their understanding of magic had surpassed nearly all others alive. Yet even they had limits. The highest possible state for a mage was something only legends spoke of.
A Demigod. A being who had transcended mortal limitations and became something closer to magic itself. Comparable only to the greatest warriors known as Sword Saints. Like the empire's Crown Prince. Zafiel Abaddon Morrigan von Clematis.
For hundreds of years, no mage had ever reached that level. Until now, one of the Archmages suddenly lifted her head. The woman had long silver hair and sharp violet eyes that glowed faintly with arcane energy. "... did you feel that?"
Another Archmage slowly opened his eyes. An elderly man with a beard long enough to rest on the table. "... yes."
The air in the chamber trembled again. A wave of mana rippled across the room. Not violent. Not chaotic. But dense. Unbelievably dense.
A third Archmage-this one a tall man with dark skin and glowing runic tattoos across his arms-leaned forward.
"That amount of mana..." His voice carried genuine astonishment. "... is absurd."
The silver-haired Archmage stood abruptly, robes fluttering as the magic in the room stirred. She walked toward the enormous magical observatory sphere at the center of the chamber.
The crystal orb shimmered as she placed her hand upon it. Threads of mana spread outward across the surface like spiderwebs. Her eyes widened. "... the source is inside the empire."
"Where?" the old Archmage asked.
She studied the shifting magical lines carefully. "... Forebros."
The name echoed in the silent chamber. Forebros. A prosperous region governed by one of the empire's most powerful noble families. The Vernon estate.
The fourth Archmage let out a low whistle. "That's... inconvenient."
The fifth Archmage had remained silent until now. He was the youngest among them.
A man with messy dark hair and sharp crimson eyes. Unlike the others who carried themselves with ancient dignity, he lounged lazily in his chair with one leg hanging over the armrest. His robes were half-unbuttoned. His expression bored. "... you woke me up for this?"
The silver-haired Archmage shot him a glare. "Shut up, Kael."
Kael yawned. "You people panic too easily."
The old Archmage tapped his staff against the stone floor. Clack. The sound echoed with authority. "That mana wave was not ordinary."
Kael rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes. Someone has strong mana. Congratulations."
The tattooed Archmage crossed his arms. "Strong?"
His voice was serious. "That was not merely strong." He leaned closer to the orb. "That level of density..." Even he seemed reluctant to say the words. "... suggests Archmage potential."
The room fell silent. Even Kael stopped pretending to nap. Then the silver-haired Archmage finished the thought. "... or something even higher." Her gaze sharpened. "A Demigod candidate."
Kael sat up straight. For the first time since the conversation began, he looked interested. "A Demigod?" Now that was rare. He leaned back again slowly, lips curling into a mischievous smirk. "Well... that's new."
The old Archmage spoke again. "If the mana belongs to a developing mage, the Magic Tower must secure them."
The tattooed Archmage nodded. "A talent like that cannot remain outside our supervision."
The silver-haired Archmage added quietly, "And if they are left alone... they could become dangerous."
Kael chuckled. "Dangerous people are fun."
Four pairs of eyes turned toward him. The old Archmage pointed his staff directly at Kael. "You are the youngest among us."
Kael groaned loudly. "Oh come on."
"You will investigate."
Kael dragged a hand down his face dramatically. "Why me?"
The silver-haired Archmage answered bluntly. "Because you're the only one reckless enough not to start an international incident while snooping around a ducal territory."
"... that hurts."
The tattooed Archmage smirked. "But it's true."
Kael leaned back in his chair again, staring at the glowing orb that displayed the faint magical signature emanating from Forebros. His crimson eyes gleamed. "... Archmage candidate." He tilted his head. "... or Demigod."
A slow grin spread across his face. "Well now." That sounded interesting. He snapped his fingers lazily. A dark magic circle immediately formed beneath his feet.
The other Archmages watched him with mild annoyance. "Do not cause trouble," the old Archmage warned.
Kael stood up, stretching his arms over his head. "No promises."
The silver-haired Archmage frowned. "And do not reveal the Magic Tower unless necessary."
Kael waved dismissively. "Yeah, yeah." His body began dissolving into strands of dark mana. Before disappearing completely, he glanced once more at the glowing orb. His grin widened. "Let's see who you are..."
His voice lowered with excitement. "... little monster."
Then, he vanished. The chamber fell silent again.
The mana ripple from Forebros continued pulsing faintly through the observatory sphere. The tattooed Archmage rubbed his chin. "... do you think sending Kael was wise?"
The silver-haired Archmage sighed. "No."
The old Archmage closed his eyes again. "But it will certainly be entertaining."
Far away, inside the Vernon estate. Mariana lay sprawled across her bed, buried under blankets like a frightened cat hiding from the world. Her brooch glimmered faintly on the bedside table.
And outside her window, a ripple in the air appeared. Like heat distorting space. Then a figure stepped out of nothingness. Kael landed lightly on the balcony railing, crouched like a curious crow.
His crimson eyes glowed. "... well, well." He looked toward the bedroom door. Then at the window. Then at the faint magical pulse coming from inside the room. His smirk widened. "I found you."