* * *
As Ateol reflected on the light weight that had fallen onto him earlier, he narrowed his eyes.
The sensation had been lighter than the pack of dogs… no, considering that figure, it was bound to be.
That face.
It was Ateol’s first time seeing the Tower Master’s face.
With his hood always pulled down low, there had never been an opportunity before.
The moment he saw it, he felt as if lightning had struck him.
Jet-black hair framed jewel-like gray eyes, pale and smooth skin, drooping eyelids, and long lashes so delicate they seemed to whisper as they moved.
His cheeks gleamed like pearls, and his lips were like rose petals.
Even the somewhat somber and gloomy air about him felt like an adornment, enhancing his allure.
It was a face so breathtakingly beautiful that it left Ateol momentarily speechless.
But as much as the face’s beauty shocked him, it stirred something even stranger in his heart.
What was it…?
It was like recalling the contents of a lovely dream long forgotten, or suddenly remembering the lyrics to a cherished song you hadn’t thought about in years.
No… it was even more intense than that.
With narrowed eyes, Ateol turned to his confidant and asked,
“Resa, what’s your impression of the Tower Master?”
“The Tower Master? Well… same as everyone else, I suppose. Gloomy, intimidating, and someone you’d rather avoid.”
The Tower Master Yuri’s ominous reputation was well-known.
At banquets or balls, his attire was always dazzling, yet he wore his hood so low that his face remained a mystery.
His authority surpassed even that of the Emperor.
With a single word or gesture, he could reshape the world—quite literally.
Since the Tower’s first master appeared in ancient times, records of his magic had filled countless library shelves.
He had stood against armies of hundreds of thousands, created lakes in barren lands, and turned seas into solid ground.
He was a being who defied the laws of nature.
Such overwhelming power naturally inspired reverence, though it was tinged with fear.
Most people felt an unsettling awe toward him.
“That’s what I find strange. Isn’t the Tower Master practically a god? He shouldn’t be treated like this.”
“Huh? Oh… now that you mention it, I guess so.”
It was as though they were treating not a god but a powerful demon.
Ateol had always thought it peculiar.
“Come to think of it… I don’t think it was always like this. Hmm.”
Resa tilted his head, then fell silent, disinterested.
As with most people, the topic of the Tower Master didn’t hold his attention for long.
Occasionally, there were those who displayed obsessive fascination with him, but that was another oddity altogether.
Would people still react the same way if they saw his face?
Perhaps it wasn’t a matter of his appearance after all.
“…Hmm.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Responding absentmindedly, Ateol sank into his own thoughts.
He was the one who got involved first.
What was it like when they first met?
In truth, Ateol never considered him to be an important part of his future.
Whether or not the Tower Master was there, he would succeed regardless.
He had no intention of getting involved with him as long as he didn’t meddle unnecessarily.
But then, the other party took it upon himself to side with Ateol, saying all sorts of absurd things. Since then, he truly had been helpful.
Whenever Ateol looked at him, he felt a strange emotion.
Perhaps it was an utterly common sense of fondness.
No, but this felt closer to recalling something rather than simple fondness.
Can one recall something they’ve never forgotten?
And besides, how could a face like that be easily forgotten?
Unless someone deliberately made him forget, of course.
Ateol raised his head.
Before he realized it, the exit to the secret passage was nearby.
The reception room of the Magic Tower.
A place no ordinary person would enter in their lifetime.
Even the current Emperor and Empress had never been here.
As a result, the room carried a subtle air of tension.
And if one were to ask who was the most tense, it was undoubtedly me.
Ateol, on the other hand, appeared utterly at ease, despite being the invited guest.
As for me, the rightful master of this place who should exude calm composure, I was frozen, clutching the hem of my robe to stop my hands from trembling.
Ever since I considered the possibility that “someone other than Ateol might find the real Yuris,” my naive plan to simply butter up Ateol crumbled, and all sorts of terrifying scenarios filled my mind.
In my imagination, I was already being denounced as a fraud by a vengeful mob and meeting a gruesome public execution.
And if I were to regress again from there, I’d live in constant fear of dying again, and again, and yet again—an endless cycle of death and terror.
This meant the task at hand wasn’t just about begging Ateol to spare me.
I had to ensure Ateol found the real Yuris.
After that, he had to quietly spirit me away.
If he could deal with the real Yuris, I might even continue living comfortably here, but that seemed impossible.
To get Ateol to help me escape safely after finding the real Yuris, I needed him to hold me in considerable favor.
The system must have had its reasons for assigning me these tasks. I’m sorry for cursing you all this time, system.
And now, Ateol was standing right before me. It was natural for me to feel nervous.
How could I raise his favorability significantly?
Like at the pet festival. Contact—close contact.
Didn’t his favorability skyrocket when I collapsed into his arms?
So if I clung even closer, something more intimate, wouldn’t his favorability rise much higher than from mere conversation?
“It’s a great honor for someone as insignificant as me to be here. I truly don’t know how to express my gratitude to the Tower Master.”
“…Honor, huh?”
I hope I didn’t sound too insincere.
I glanced at Ateol, who was looking at me with an expression that seemed genuinely moved.
He must have gone through an arduous process, facing long and bothersome inspections without even a single escort, just to get here.
Entering the Tower was at least a hundred times stricter than airport immigration.
Honestly, it might be easier to access the underground bunker of the Blue House.
Physically, it was certainly harder.
After all, the Tower had a labyrinth, a defensive mechanism that no one except me, the Tower Master, could traverse.
To gain temporary passage through the labyrinth, one had to undergo rigorous checks—from belongings to ensure no poison or dangerous items, to wearing clothes and shoes provided exclusively by the Tower.
In the past, to minimize risks, they reportedly gave visitors rag-like clothes to wear.
At least now the attire was somewhat presentable.
Thankfully. If Ateol were dressed in rags… Well, it might give him a tragic allure, but still, it wouldn’t be ideal.
His face would make me feel guilty.
Unless Ateol dreamt of becoming a beggar and willingly wore such clothes.
“Come to think of it, I heard the clothing would be simpler than this. But it’s not.”
“Why? Are you disappointed? …Is being a beggar your dream?”
“Pardon?”
“Nothing.”
Damn, my stray thoughts turned into stray words.
As Ateol looked at me with an amused expression, I began scheming again.
How could I naturally initiate physical contact?
No matter how I tried to approach it, everything felt awkward.
While I was lost in thought, Ateol spoke up.
“Strangely enough…”
He shifted slightly, gazing at me intently.
“It feels like this isn’t my first time coming here.”
“…Could it be you’ve been here before?”
Does this mean he’s connected to the real Yuris somehow?
If I dig into that, might a natural opportunity for contact arise?
But Ateol shook his head.
“How could I come here without the Tower Master’s permission?”
“Well, I mean, in the past. I’ve lost my memory, remember?”
“Hmm… Even if you don’t remember, others in the Tower would.”
“Oh.”
I let out a stupid sound.
True. I tried to probe him, but that’s where the conversation ended.
If the real Yuris had secretly invited Ateol to the Tower, someone in the Tower should know about it.
At the very least, Cloden would.
‘…Or maybe not.’
* * *
