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The Magic Tower and protests are inseparable.

Like weeds that grow through concrete blocks, the Magic Tower stands as a nation built against religious oppression, and the magicians, through resistance, grasped their freedom after millennia.

In that context, it’s no surprise that protests erupt daily around the Magic Tower.

With an all-out war being waged against a global religious organization, a protest against a mere government seems trivial.

When government policies don’t please you, you grab a picket sign and head out. If you’re feeling bold, you beat up a cop who looks weaker than you (most of those participating in protests at the Magic Tower are magicians), and if you’re really riled up, you break shop windows to snatch expensive magical tools and supplies. Protests at the Magic Tower generally go down like this.

Just as riots are a defining culture in France, protests are also a significant element constituting the Magic Tower.

It’s only been a hundred years since the cult went head-to-head in a bid for independence—so, a protest here and there should be considered cute.

These are the types who can’t stand being controlled and immediately search for a mask to hide their faces at the slightest chance of loss, so the protests instigated by magicians are bound to turn into minor incidents.

Ordinarily, that is.

“So, the magicians started the protest?”

– “Yes.”

“And it’s on the brink of turning into a riot?”

– “Yes.”

“Right in the area with martial law?”

– “Yes.”

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Episode 12 – The Strongest Magician in History

Day in and day out, I sing praises for socialists, but honestly, I love labor unions and civic organizations more than anyone else.

To be precise, I adore ‘foreign’ labor unions and civic organizations.

As a person who earns a living through spying, labor unions and civic organizations are like stages, meeting places, and hideouts for revolutionary fighters.

People gather, hoping to get a crumb, rushing out of pure altruism, showing up just for socializing, needing image management, or dragged out against their will by peers—there’s no better place than this for exploitation.

Due to the nature of these organizations, gatherings and protests are frequent, and with so many people crowding together, there are ample opportunities to forge nutrient-rich relationships. You’d be hard-pressed to find another job market like this outside of fairs or exhibitions.

That’s exactly the situation right now.

“Shut up! You people!”

A middle-aged man, draped in a robe, pointed and raised his voice. Magic buzzed ominously as the fabric of his robe floated, violently swaying as if hit by a storm.

“…What the heck is this?”

After receiving a call from Francesca, I rushed to the scene, speechless.

In a major northern city, people flocked to the building like a swarm. There were even long lines outside the doors. “Bustling” was an understatement.

A truckload of people flaunted their identities as magicians. Clothed in colorful robes, they varied in age, gender, and race.

“What? This person? How old are you?”

“No, you can’t do this here, sir. I don’t know which school you belong to, but you two need to calm down…”

“Excuse me, please let us pass—don’t block the way!”

“Has anyone heard from Sir Rishidique? Where in the world is Sir Ranieri?”

“Are there any members from the Necromancy School? Is anyone from the Necromancy School here?”

From my quick glance, I could see clusters of similar robed individuals, likely from the same school, while others with different patterns conversed; some wandered through the crowd searching for someone from their school—like a family torn apart by war.

I hadn’t seen this many magicians in one place since my time at the Magic Tower…

“What a disaster.”

It was utter chaos.

I sprinted over after receiving word from Francesca about a protest, and the situation felt quite serious. I couldn’t comprehend what was happening, which made it look even worse. As Francesca said, she wasn’t fully grasping the situation herself, so we should meet up to discuss it.

I gazed at the jammed entrance and the street filled with magicians.

“…How do I get through this?”

Even when it’s just a crowd, it’s overwhelming, and the magicians there appeared agitated, angry at the situation.

I had no clue why so many magicians were venting their frustration, but one thing was clear: they were causing a lot of trouble.

Verbal fights, physical clashes. Grabbing each other was a given, and if things went wrong, they seemed ready to let loose some spells.

Among the furious crowd, the officials from the Magic Tower, who manage the magicians, and the Imperial Internal Troops’ personnel were clearly looking flustered. The Imperial military executives mumbled curses under their breath, while the troops wore anxious expressions, preparing for any unforeseen incident.

As I sensed the indescribable tension in the atmosphere, my desire to flee was overwhelming. But without knowing where Francesca was, I couldn’t move recklessly.

“Where on earth could she be…?”

“What’s going on, Colonel?”

“Oh, Senior Lyudmila. I need to get into the building to meet the Administrator, but there’s no possible way in, is there?”

Pointing toward a mob of angry magicians, Senior Lyudmila shook her head with a troubled expression.

“I’m sorry, but neither the Internal Troops nor the Military Police can enter right now. It might be better to wait until things calm down or perhaps call the Administrator Ranieri outside?”

“Regardless of whether he can come out or not…”

I scratched my brow while observing the shouting magicians.

“It seems like coming out could lead to trouble.”

No one knew what would happen if Francesca showed up in this hostile atmosphere. It was baffling why things had suddenly escalated like this.

—

I hesitated to stop a passing magician to ask about the situation.

What if I caught the ire of an angry individual? The magicians from the Secretariat were still swamped with troublesome citizens.

And as for the Internal Troops… they might as well be invisible. What do they even know?

While I was trying to figure out how to enter the building…

A stream of insults erupted from the angry crowd.

“Hey, you jerk!”

A magician with a booming voice, resembling a martial arts master’s roar, unleashed short and crude swears while swinging their arms.

Yellow magical energy shimmered in the air as the slight magic began to accumulate in their hands, forming a spell.

“How dare you grab me by the collar! Do you want to die?!”

“Uh, uh-oh?”

In the heat of the argument, the magician, seemingly enraged after being grabbed, shrugged off the hand and began channeling magic.

In the blink of an eye, a complex magic circle appeared, coiling around the magician’s arm like a snake uncoiling. It looked as if the heat spread all the way to the tips of their hair.

Unless you’re a combat magician or have learned military spells, magic cast in such a short time doesn’t possess enough power to kill a person. However, it’s common sense that even low-power magic can send you to the great beyond if it hits wrong.

Magic blossomed amidst the battle.

From all around, horrified screams erupted.

“Ahhh!”

“A fight broke out!”

“Who’s using magic without a duel? Are they out of their mind?”

“Someone stop this! Quick!”

As the fist entwined with the magic circle was pulled back with force, it soon shot forward.

A cool breeze began to blow.

The wind gently wrapped around the crowd embroiled in the fight and the magician raising their arm in defense, as well as the one preparing to throw a punch.

Like the wave washing over a white sandy beach, the wind embraced me and caressed the swinging fist.

In that moment, it felt as if time slowed down.

The screaming magician and the one raising their arm to block.

The screams and curses erupting, the people rushing in to break up the fight, and those who shielded their eyes and turned away.

I stared blankly at the scene flowing by in slow motion, and spotted a butterfly perched on the clenched fist of the magician.

Like dandelion seeds carried by a gentle breeze, the butterfly on the magician’s fist slowly began to flutter its wings as if a person waking from sleep, then elegantly spread its wings and soared off into the distance.

Carrying with it a burst of yellow magic.

I couldn’t fathom how that was even possible.

All I could certainly grasp was that the magic enveloping the man’s fist had lost its power.

With the butterfly flying away amidst the yellow magic as the background, the magician’s fist swung down toward another magician. Confusion washed over the face of the struck magician as the magic circle and spell crumbled away.

It was at that moment, when the magician who swung the fist and the one who got hit finally understood what was happening, that panic set in among the onlookers who had anticipated bloodshed.

“-When a person uses magic on another person.”

A clear and dignified voice seized the chaotic atmosphere.

“There are only three legally justified instances: a proper duel, war between nations, and murder.”

The crowd, which had been tightly packed at the entrance of the building, parted like the Red Sea. The magicians retreated as if blown away.

Amidst that, a woman effortlessly walked forward.

With long, flowing purple hair on one side, a beautifully calm gait even in the face of an angry crowd, a contrasting cold smile, and an oddly condescending gaze.

“Lady Ranieri…!”

It was Francesca.

As she appeared, calmly parting the crowd, she cast a glance at the magicians from the Secretariat who were standing awkwardly. Without adding a word, the magicians looked as if they’d been scalded.

They rushed at the magician who had thrown the punch and forcibly pulled both apart. As the minor civil servants scrambled to clean up the chaos, Francesca ended her statement in a gentle voice.

“I wonder which of the three that was just now.”

“Lady Ranieri….”

The magician who had swung his fist managed to calm his flushed face and began to speak.

“This is—”

“Let’s save the excuses for later. Right now, we don’t have the luxury to hear even an explanation.”

“…I apologize. I caused a disturbance.”

“And so.”

Francesca surveyed the crowd once. After examining the silent attendees, her gaze finally fixed on me, who was watching from a distance.

“Is there anyone who can explain what’s going on here?”

*

Francesca, who had arrived on scene, took command of the situation with a single gesture.

The Secretariat employees, who had been floundering in dealing with the magicians, quickly moved to clear up the messy scene.

They cleared the debris scattered by magic and helped those who had fallen back up.

When elderly magicians, who had rushed out of the building in a flurry, joined in, the magicians who had been acting disorderly suddenly became brisk. For reference, the direction the magicians came from was similar to where Francesca had appeared.

Having pacified the chaos, Francesca exchanged brief words with the elderly magicians.

They decided to discuss the matter at a more appropriate time since this wasn’t the right place, expressing their regret for the unfortunate incident that had occurred. After conversing with her, the magicians showed their respect and began to lead the other magicians away.

Once the commotion subsided, Francesca slowly took a step forward, scanning her surroundings. Although her gaze was elsewhere, it happened that I was where her steps were headed.

“Is it all over?”

I approached Francesca to speak. She had been standing there with a somewhat uncomfortable expression, but turned her head at the sound of my voice.

The slight furrow in her brow eased, just a little.

“What a mess since this morning.”

“It’s just a normal day at the Magic Tower. Colonel Abas probably isn’t familiar with it though?”

“I’ve seen it often in the news.”

The small talk didn’t last long. The light atmosphere of our conversation began gently, and ended just as lightly.

I suddenly asked a question.

“That wasn’t just a typical protest, was it?”

“You catch on quickly. It wasn’t an ordinary protest at all. While newly dispatched magicians can be excused, seeing veterans and executives arrive means this is serious, if not severe.”

“And what’s the reason for all this commotion in broad daylight? They were throwing punches at each other.”

“Well, I’ll let you know bit by bit. But first….”

As Francesca watched the magicians scattering in all directions, she turned her head to meet my gaze.

“It seems that in order to explain the current situation, we need to clarify this first.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Colonel.”

Then, in a rather grave tone, she posed a question to me.

“I would like you to tell me what happened over the past two days.”

 

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