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The Magic Tower.

The cradle of magicians and the repository of magic. Regardless of where they are born, their races, or their languages, for those who walk the path of magic, the Magic Tower is both home and sanctuary.

However, not everyone who treads this path of magic is a great person.

Some are criminals being pursued by law enforcement,

Some are caught off-guard while distributing drugs,

Some have experimented inhumanly, leading to their names being erased from the academy’s register and their expulsion from the Magic Tower,

And then there are the necromancers who have crossed the line into the forbidden realms, among others.

These are the shadows of magic society, obstacles, and the very essence of taboo.

They are real, yet they lack recognition from the Magic Tower.

To be precise, it would be accurate to say that society as a whole chooses to keep silent about them.

Is that why?

When the existence of the necromancer came to light, the magicians of the Magic Tower chose silence.

Episode 12 – The Most Powerful Magician in History.

Francesca had been assigned one of the best rooms in the Cathedral as a companion to the saint, Lucia.

As she opened the brown wooden door, the scene inside came into view. A woman stood by the window, arms crossed, gazing outside.

The delicate lines of her attire captured her unique elegance. The double-breasted suit wrapped around her slender waist resembled a splendid evening gown.

“Sigh…”

As always, Francesca, exuding a noble aura, let out a sharp breath.

“Administrator.”

“Ah, you’ve come?”

Francesca, who had been standing by the window, turned to face me.

Her purple hair, swept to one side, flowed like the sails of a boat caressed by a light breeze, while a misty aura settled around her like morning fog.

The alluring curves created by her slightly tilted form drew my gaze downwards, finally landing on the pipe held in her gloved hand.

As I was about to enter the room, I leaned against the doorframe and reached into my pocket.

“Do you smoke?”

“It’s not tobacco; it’s magic herb.”

Francesca said this as she placed a harporstone pipe to her lips.

She puffed out a silky mist reminiscent of Sherlock Holmes, the cream-colored harporstone pipe resting elegantly in her mouth. Strangely, it didn’t emit the distinct smell of tobacco.

The circular iron canister on her dark wooden desk was filled with leaves of a renowned magic herb brand, surrounded by an untidy collection of tools and small bits of the herb for pipe smokers.

I walked towards her and opened my mouth.

“I’m glad I found you here. Administrator, could I talk with you for a moment?”

“May I ask what this is regarding, Colonel?”

“It’s about the magicians of the Magic Tower.”

“Oh, if that’s the case… it’s actually a matter I was going to bring up with you.”

Phew. Francesca exhaled the smoke lightly and turned her head. Her posture seemed to avoid eye contact, but in reality, it was her own effort to conceal her expression.

The faint wrinkles on her translucent skin creased, exposing her discomfort, as if merely thinking about it was unpleasant. Her aloof gaze and displeased expression were freezing.

“You’re here to ask about the request denial, correct?”

“Yes.”

After scrutinizing parts of the necromancer’s body I had cut off, the Imperial Ministry of Magic concluded that the necromancer was active in the Northern Regions.

The sudden appearance of undead, the Corpse Spider that attacked the rift along with a giant spider, citizens from hundreds of missing households, murdered Imperial Army Combat Magicians and Magic Department Investigators, and the battles that unfolded in the underground of the Northern metropolis.

The Imperial Government, upon receiving the Ministry’s investigation results, concluded that the events from the past month were orchestrated by necromancers and demons. The Chancellor sent letters to the National Affairs Council of the cult as well as to nations involved in the conflict with the demon tribes.

For reference, the Government of Abas has also received the Imperial Government’s correspondence.

After reading the Chancellor’s letter, the Prime Minister prepared a press release promising cooperation in all joint investigations conducted by the Empire and the cult right after the National Assembly meeting. The speechwriters are expected to finalize the wording soon for an official release.

There’s no need to mention the reactions from pro-Empire dictatorial countries or the cult.

The dictators were shaking their rattles at the Emperor, and the soon-to-be-retiring Pope was frantically trying to establish a remarkable achievement of “demon extermination” for his successor, Raphael.

Of course, from the Pope’s perspective, who despises magicians more than anyone, even if retirement was looming, a necromancer who made a pact with demons could never be allowed to live. Anyway.

This information is solid—a story I heard from Veronica while entertaining the troubles she’s facing with the fundamentalists and hardliners within the cult.

She had definitely said this at that time.

“The Magic Tower… *sniff*… Now that a necromancer has surfaced, if the Magic Tower stays silent… there’s bound to be some follow-up gossip…”

“You mean we must do something?”

“Yes… Letters have also been sent to the Oracle… I’ve already hinted it to our sister…”

According to her, the saint was informed by an Imperial official that the Oracle had also received a letter from Chancellor Stollipin. It was a letter soliciting cooperation to catch the necromancer and demons.

As if that wasn’t enough, Veronica leveraged her personal connections to persuade Francesca.

If she, as an official from the Magic Tower Secretariat and a member of the Raniere family, and Evangelos from the Licidike family, the commander of the Magic Battalion, made their suggestions to the Oracle, the members would surely respond.

After all, these are the opinions of the descendants of the Archmage, responsible for both internal and military affairs; the lofty Oracle wouldn’t ignore them.

Yet, even with all governments presenting their respective positions, the Magic Tower remains silent, not offering any response.

“To be precise, I came to find the Administrator in hopes of hearing the response we have yet to receive.”

“Ah…”

Francesca’s fingers tangled in her hair, her slender digits disheveling her luscious locks.

Despite having fallen from grace, she displayed a demeanor that starkly contrasted with the noble appearance she had maintained until now. With slightly dark circles beneath her eyes, the decadent look on the Magic Tower’s civil servant expressed her weariness, almost as if she was groaning in frustration.

“I’m afraid I haven’t heard much beyond the news of how fierce it is.”

“Are they discussing it internally?”

“It’s an issue concerning necromancers, so what exactly are they discussing?”

Francesca let out a sudden sigh at my question.

“There are many reasons. The mages active in the Northern Regions are worried that the Inquisition might label them heretics as well. Those folks have quite the notorious reputation, don’t they? Recently, they’ve even had battles in the major cities.”

“I know. That’s exactly why they gathered en masse to find you the next day, isn’t it?”

“Hmm. So you remember that?”

With a haffostone pipe in her mouth, Francesca flashed a faint smile. The combination of luxurious leather gloves, the pipe, and a suit that didn’t disrupt her feminine silhouette was nothing short of fantastic.

“I’m trying my best to resolve the people’s concerns in my own way. Sir Evangelos, who’s out on the front lines, is also doing his part to soothe the people. But the Magic Tower side seems a bit tough. They’re worried about a completely different issue.”

“What issue are you referring to?”

“What do you think? They’re scared that the prestige of their esteemed school might be tarnished.”

She mentioned that there’s intense debate not only among the Oracles but also among the government officials within the Magic Tower.

It’s a necromancer who appeared after decades. He’d been abducting people for experiments and committing mass casualties in collusion with cultists.

He’s active in regions under martial law, facing accusations of creating undead, kidnapping, murder, and terrorism, and it has even been revealed that he made a pact with a demon. Even setting aside all those accusations, the mere speculation that mages have been killed by a necromancer is a problem.

Most necromancers were once mages associated with the Magic Tower or the Ivory Tower who had gone rogue.

For the Magic Tower, this is quite the uncomfortable situation.

The crime of a mage killing a fellow mage, akin to murdering a sibling born of the same parents, is never taken lightly. During wartime against cults, this was a culture born from cases where a rogue mage had stabbed a colleague in the back.

Thus, killing a fellow mage has never simply ended in expulsion even after a hundred years.

At this, Francesca wore a wry smile, her haffostone pipe billowing smoke.

“I still haven’t secured the body, so I can’t identify them yet. But the moment their school is revealed, there will be quite a stir. That’s why everyone is holding their breath, just being cautious.”

“Are they afraid that a necromancer came from their school, making them hesitant to act?”

“Right.”

A pale, thin mist filled the air around us. In the thick smoke, Francesca held her pipe steadily, crossing her arms.

“Even aside from that, I took the lead in trying to solve this issue, but if a necromancer came from a prominent school, that’s another problem. Someone will likely feel the urge to take revenge against the school that attacked them.”

“…Revenge.”

“Yes, revenge. Once the situation settles and fades from memory, the conflicts between the schools will begin.”

Given the nature of mages, who hold knowledge preservation and inheritance dearer than life itself, the honor of the school their predecessors belonged to is often valued above their very lives.

So when a high-ranking person or promising individual from one school gets involved in a dispute with members of another school, if there’s a significant disparity in their status, it’s not uncommon for them to retaliate, according to Francesca.

“Especially in a case like this where a mage has been killed, a smaller school could find its very existence threatened. In fact, there have already been instances of dissolution or absorption into other schools for similar reasons. That’s why everyone is just keeping an eye on things.”

I raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“Even with a person dead?”

“Some people think there are values that are more important than life itself. Noble beliefs, values, honor… It’s selfish and despicable behavior, but isn’t the world rarely ever beautiful?”

“Truly remarkable scholars, aren’t they?”

Despite my sarcastic remark, Francesca showed no real reaction. She just smiled as if amused while sitting comfortably in her plush chair with the haffostone pipe in her mouth.

As the faint ember began to glow, her lips parted. A slightly languid voice smoothly flowed through her lips.

“I’ve already sent someone to the Magic Tower to bring news from the Oracle. Sir Martinez will be back with updates soon, so I’ll meet with him to hear the details.”

“When will you make contact?”

“Today. If there’s anything new learned, I can pass it along to the Colonel, right?”

“I’d appreciate that.”

“Oh, but are you going to record this again? We’re scheduled to meet at the Cathedral, but… well, given that this is where the Inquisition resides, I wonder if eavesdropping would be possible…”

“Don’t worry. There are always methods.”

Just before I stepped out, I peeked my head back at Francesca, who was smoking a magical herb.

“Mind if I grab some equipment while you wait?”

“Of course.”

*

When I returned with the equipment, Francesca was organizing her desk.

“I’m back.”

After placing my bag on the desk, I unlocked it. Inside the thick leather, there were various listening and eavesdropping devices created by the Military Intelligence Agency.

I pulled out a few useful ones and attached them to a suitably sized band.

“Administrator.”

Francesca, who was wandering near the desk, turned to face me.

Cleaning her pipe of moisture and ash with the rim and stem cooled down, she organized the pipe into a roll pouch and approached me.

“Did you find what you needed, Colonel?”

“It’s going to take time to affix and test the listening devices, so let’s prepare ahead.”

“Understood. How can I assist you?”

“First, please take off your trousers.”

 

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