Parkline, the master of the Red Magic Tower, was fundamentally indifferent to rumors. He found exploring antiquity far more enjoyable than indulging in gossip.

However, it wasn’t that rumors didn’t reach his ears. Specifically, the rumor that ‘Marquis Palatio and Penia Crysinne are involved in a very intimate relationship recognized by the Blue Magic Tower Master!’ was consistently heard by him.

In fact, given Parkline Argulus’s personality, no matter how often he heard or verified the rumor, he remained uninterested. Recently, however, Parkline had been paying attention to the rumor about Marquis Palatio and Penia Crysinne, which he would usually ignore. The reason was—

“Hmm—”

—Celaime Mikardo.

“Seems like you’re having fun?”

“Is that so? Well, if you say so, it must appear so.”

Celaime, who seemed overjoyed, expressed his exhilaration with his entire body. He knew when this excitement had started.

‘It was after the rumor about Marquis Palatio broke out.’

Indeed, since then, Celaime, just before entering lectures, always wore a smile and hummed a tune with a bounce in his step. Sometimes, it seemed like he had sold the authority of a Magic Tower Master so casually that even his hips swayed.

The exact reason for his behavior was unclear, but a guess was possible. Celaime Mikardo might seem difficult to approach at first glance, but he was an easy person to understand.

There was only one factor that determined his mood: magic. He was always happy when he solved a magical problem, and unhappy when magic didn’t go as planned. Other events? Celaime didn’t express much emotion about anything other than magic. Whether the Magic Tower was destroyed overnight or if the deputy of the Blue Magic Tower was so frustrated that she came running to kill him, Celaime rarely showed any emotional response—unless it was about magic.

Anyway. Celaime’s recent activities in seeking clues to ascend from the 8th to the 9th tier were well known to Parkline, so guessing why he was excited was easy.

‘He must have found a clue to move from the 8th to the 9th tier.’

And the clue likely involved Marquis Palatio. There were several reasons for this assumption. First, Celaime, fundamentally indifferent and devoid of political or power hunger, focused solely on magic; he wouldn’t be thrilled merely by Penia’s relationship with the count. Second, it was due to Celaime’s recent behavior towards Marquis Palatio.

‘He’s been treating him like royalty.’

Lastly, combining the content of the letter he had interpreted and the use of primitive magic by Marquis Palatio made it easy to deduce. The guess that Marquis Palatio held the key for Celaime Mikardo to ascend to the 9th tier was easy to reach. From there, it was even possible to speculate whether Marquis Palatio was a magician as noted on the parchment.

Since the moment Celaime began trying to cover up any discussion of the count, Parkline had been more than guessing; he was certain. There was definitely something about Marquis Palatio. This was precisely why Parkline had been listening to the rumors recently.

Naturally, he was also very interested in reaching the 9th tier. Not just interested, but profoundly so. Not only him but all the Magic Tower masters harbored a desire to reach the 9th tier. After all, the masters of each tower had ascended to their positions through a blend of curiosity, desire, and genius.

Therefore, “…Master of the Red Magic Tower.”

“It’s been a while.”

To secure his gains, Parkline was quicker than anyone to meet Alon, regardless of what might be hidden. If he openly asked, there was surely something to be gained.

“That coat looks warm.”

“…This coat?”

“Yes. But, it’s quite chilly now.”

“When it’s hot, it’s hot, and when it’s cold, it’s cold. Anyway— I’d like to give you a gift. Would you accept it?”

“…A gift?”

Parkline naturally pulled a dark blue coat from within his robes. It was similar to what Alon usually wore but had black fur trimmings at the edges.

“It’s an artifact coat I made myself. It’s enchanted with subspace magic, and the coat itself adjusts the surrounding array to facilitate magic use.”

“…It’s a very fine coat.”

“Yes. Moreover, it has a built-in artifact that, although mild, maintains a constant temperature inside. What do you think?”

“It’s a very nice coat, but… why are you suddenly giving this to me?”

Parkline laughed heartily in response to the Marquis’s emotionless inquiry.

“Well, my daughter has often received help from you, so it’s a token of gratitude.”

“…Then I will gratefully accept it.”

“Good, let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thank you for your consideration.”

“Yes. Liyan also sends her regards.”

Although the coat was expensive, for a Magic Tower Master like him, making several was not an issue. His labor could easily produce as many as needed. Essentially, Parkline had given Alon a cost-effective gift. At that moment.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“?”

“?”

Celaime Mikardo, who had disappeared right after the lecture, suddenly reappeared with a clearly anxious expression. And then.

“Marquis, did he perhaps mention anything about introducing you to his daughter?”

“What?”

“If so, it’s definitely Penia.”

He blurted out immediately, without taking the time to think properly. At this, Parkline burst into incredulous laughter, unintentionally gaining a bit more firm conviction.

‘…So the Marquis really does have something…!?’

Clearly, he didn’t think the Marquis had said that out of concern for Penia. While Parkline felt a strange pleasure from his newfound certainty, “Be careful with your words, Celaime. There’s a limit to my patience.”

He warned. The clue to the 9th tier was insanely precious to him, but that didn’t mean he intended to send his precious daughter to some grim fellow, even if it meant plunging into the depths of a fiery magma pit. However, separately from that, “Marquis, I will offer you something even better. This is the potion I’ve obtained to give you this time—”

“Count, I just realized there’s something I haven’t given you yet.”

With these words from Celaime, a strange battle had unwittingly begun.

***

In recent days, Alon had been incredibly busy. More precisely, his evenings were particularly hectic because of a need to meet with Heinkel. The reason was an event near the Central Tower that could uniquely enhance one’s magical powers. In the game, it involved solving simple magical diagrams, where intelligence above a certain level allowed one to click a mouse to gain magic power.

Alon, who went to the Lake’s Labyrinth for this task, was taken aback by the unexpectedly challenging magic difficulties. To be more precise, the magic was basic, and it was more accurate to say he was solving puzzles within the labyrinth itself. As a result, for over four days, Alon neglected searching for Heinkel and instead went to the labyrinth every night to solve puzzles. During the day, he wandered around the magic tower, pondering puzzle solutions in his notebook.

Ideally, he would have preferred to address the rumor that had spread a few days earlier due to Penia’s audacity(?), but regrettably, that too was impossible. Ironically, the reason was Penia herself. Clinging to him as if she had eaten something wrong, she recently had not been in Alon’s sight. Moreover, the last time he saw Penia from a distance, he witnessed her making a bizarre scream, ‘Woogaahh!’, and then jumping out of a window from the 18th floor.

Alon decided to focus on solving the puzzle until the end of the conference. That was, until this situation arose. Alon looked ahead. In front of him, two masters of the magic tower were stacking gifts on top of a book as if performing some sort of feat. Now, he couldn’t even see ahead.

‘It’s not that I dislike gifts……………’

Absent-mindedly lifting his gaze, he saw a mountain of gifts that had grown as tall as him.

All of them were fine things.

Even the coat Parkline first gave was a very attractive artifact for him.

Surely it should be, “Marquis! Look at this, this is exactly-“

“Marquis. This artifact, you see!?”

Alon suddenly craved sweet potatoes.

***

Many nobles gathered at the ball hosted by the Komalon Ducal House. They were mingling in the lavishly decorated hall, among them was Duke Edgar, arguably the most powerful noble within the current Ashtalon Kingdom.

“Duke Komalon, it’s been a while.”

“It has been a while, Duke Edgar.”

He greeted the host of the ball, Duke Komalon.

“I always feel like you really haven’t aged, exactly like the old days.”

“That’s a nice compliment.”

“Compliment? I really mean it.”

As the head of a faction, he often spoke in ambiguous terms, but this time, he was genuinely sincere. The face of a young man untouched by time. At least to Duke Edgar, Duke Komalon didn’t seem to have changed much from ten years ago, still maintaining the youth of his mid-twenties unlike Edgar, who had gained more wrinkles.

What trickery could possibly-

Just as Duke Edgar was pondering this question.

“Duke Edgar.”

“Yes?”

“First of all, let me say thank you for gathering here.”

Duke Komalon suddenly greeted him.

“Hmm…? Well, is there really something to thank?”

“No, I really appreciate it.”

“Why?”

Duke Edgar answered perplexedly. Usually, for nobles, how many people attended their hosted balls was practically a show of their authority, so it wasn’t strange to express gratitude.

In other words, the greeting in itself wasn’t odd. However, it’s only not strange when it’s a one-time courtesy.

Repeatedly expressing thanks like this was odd. As suspicion arose, Duke Edgar saw it.

Duke Komalon’s hand gesture. Seeing him form a seal with his index and middle fingers, Duke Edgar cocked his head,

“It’s because you all gathered like this that I have less trouble.”

“What?”

His expression darkened unwittingly, and the next moment.

“Vexation.”

As Duke Komolon’s voice uttered,

Pop!

Edgar Duke’s head burst open.

Not only his.

The head of a young lady who had been smiling just a moment ago.

A knight guarding other nobles.

A noble enjoying tea time at one side of the ball.

The heads of all living beings present at the ball exploded.

Then,

In the middle of the ballroom now adorned with red blood,

Thump!

Duke Komalon, brushing off the blood stuck to his hair, walked towards the door of the ballroom with an unruffled expression.

“Let’s begin.”

He signaled to start to a Dark Elf in the darkness.

“Yes.”

The beginning of a great cause.

A salvation awaited for hundreds of years.

***

Two days later,

After completely solving the puzzle in the labyrinth,

“An Outer God has descended?”

Alon heard such news from Deus.