Chapter 457. Why are you doing that…? (5)
Two weeks had passed since they left for the Central Magic Tower.
Alon's group arrived without issues to the vicinity of the Central Tower.
“We're almost there.”
When Alon murmured that while chewing on a sweet potato, Evan nodded.
“Certainly, moving through the Allied United Kingdoms side is more comfortable, don't you think?”
“Yes?”
“I guess it's because we are more familiar with the geography than in the Empire and because it feels quieter.”
Evan's words were on point.
It wasn't that the Empire was always dangerous, but compared to the era of the Eastern Empire, the tension now was lower.
Alon looked out the window.
The tower could already be seen up close.
Then, from a corner of the carriage, Basiliora, who was sleeping together with Blackie, wobbled upon waking up and disappeared.
“Ah, what a waste.”
[ Shut up. ]
At that scene, Evan, who was about to take another bite, stopped; Basiliora suddenly came out of the ring and scolded him, apparently having heard the comment.
Evan pretended not to hear anything.
“Ah, now that I think about it, lately it seems hairstyle trends are very varied.”
“I noticed that too.”
“Right? I didn't imagine every town would have such distinct styles. Besides, weren't they almost all beautiful women? I don't know since when there were so many beauties...”
While they chatted about trivialities and the carriage kept moving...
Boom—!
A loud explosion was heard in the distance.
It undoubtedly came from the direction they were heading — from the Central Tower.
“…Hm?”
Looking ahead, Evan let out a strange and confused sound.
“What's wrong?” asked Alon.
Evan, frowning and staring straight ahead, opened his mouth.
“Well... how to say it? It's quite strange, so it's a bit hard to explain.”
“Try anyway.”
“Yes. How to put it... Simply, if I say it exactly as I saw it: suddenly, a bunch of mages ran out of the Central Tower and formed a very long line...”
“And then...?”
“......and then they started fighting each other with magic... just like that, out of nowhere?”
“?”
Alon was perplexed.
“…What is that supposed to mean?”
“I told you it was strange.”
Alon opened the window a bit and looked ahead: indeed, he could see a group of mages crowded in the distance.
Mages lined up as if they were about to unleash magic and clash.
It was a very unusual situation.
Although mages could be eccentric, they almost never attacked each other like this. And if they did, it used to be in the form of a formal duel, like the one Alon had faced before.
But this looked more like a street brawl.
Unable to analyze the situation further—
“Alon, shouldn't we stop them?” asked Evan.
Alon nodded with a complicated expression.
Although mages were proud, they valued honor; it didn't look like they were really going to start a free-for-all fight, but they couldn't just watch either.
Even from afar, the atmosphere felt tense.
It was better to avoid any possibility, however minimal, of the situation degenerating into a massive magical fight.
So when they got a little closer and Alon forcefully opened the carriage door to intervene—
“Move aside! It was agreed from the start that we would be the ones to receive the King of Palantia!!”
“What nonsense are you saying! That decision was annulled yesterday!”
Shouts resonated.
“What do you mean it was annulled!? We had even sealed an oath! Stop with the stupidity! We will be the ones to receive the King of Palantia!”
“Don't talk nonsense! That honor belongs to us—!”
“No, to us—!”
“I said to us!”
“To us, damn it!!!”
“Agh! You insolent old man, let go of my beard—!”
“Leave me the couple of hairs you have left and let go of my head, you filthy old man!!”
The mages, who seemed too old to move like that, started an absurd fight, screaming at the top of their lungs.
Thud.
Alon closed the door without saying a word.
“…You are very popular, Alon,” commented Evan with a tone between mockery and praise.
Alon covered his face with both hands.
......What the hell did you do, Penia... was the only thing that passed through his mind.
The commotion ended.
Or perhaps—
“Welcome to the Central Tower, King of Palantia... no, ‘Magic King’.”
“…Magic King?”
They passed between mages who were shamelessly striving to get Alon's attention.
“Oh, he has arrived!”
“......Long time no see, Tower Master.”
“Oh, don't treat me with such formality.”
“…You can speak to me like before.”
“Hmm-hmm, really?”
“Can I also treat you like before?”
“And me……”
After passing between the Blue Tower Master, the Green Tower Master, and then the Red Tower Master, who were sticking to him endlessly—
“Right, then we will speak in more detail on another occasion.”
“A…… yes.”
“See you later!”
Alon finally managed to get onto the elevator artifact inside the Central Tower.
He was already exhausted. With eyes closed, he murmured:
“…And now what is that about Magic King?”
“I like it,” blurted Evan.
“What?”
“I think Magic King sounds quite good.”
“…Are you serious?”
“Yes. It's not bad at all.”
While Evan shrugged, Alon again felt that strange disparity he had felt with the living statue. And just then, they arrived at the floor where Penia was.
“You arrived!”
“Penia...”
Alon looked at the energetic young woman welcoming them, and then he observed the place.
The 77th floor of the Central Tower was set up like an office.
“Ah, I rented it for a while. Since we'll have to stay a long time, there was no alternative,” said Penia, guessing his expression.
But there was something more important.
“…I need an explanation.”
Alon sat naturally on the sofa and said that.
“Yes! I was already planning to explain it. Do you remember I told you that, if you were going to distribute blessings, it would be better to do it more efficiently?”
Then Penia started speaking, as if she had been waiting for this moment.
Twenty minutes later.
“And so, we reached this situation,” she smiled triumphantly.
Alon organized the information in his head.
Summarizing what she said:
“You spread the truth that mages can use magic if they receive my blessing, and then you insinuated that you would only choose a few to provoke competition... something like that?”
Penia nodded.
“Exactly.”
“Then... do you know why this nickname of Magic King was born?”
At the question, Penia thumped her chest with pride.
“Yes! I invented that nickname.”
“…You?”
“Yes.”
“…Why?”
Penia replied without hesitation.
“Well, there are several reasons.... but the main one is to obtain the faith of the mages.”
“Faith?”
“Yes. As you know, mages are a group that would sell their soul for magical power, but strangely they become rigid in matters of faith.”
So the title of “Magic King” was created to make it closer to them.
Alon couldn't help but doubt the reasonableness.
“…Will that really help?”
“Hmm— quite a bit, I think. As you know, names influence people's minds a lot.”
Alon accepted that explanation for the moment and asked:
“Then, what must I do now? Should I grant blessings to the mages?”
“Right now? No. If you are going to give them, it will be better to select a few people.”
“Why?”
“Because if they get what they want immediately, they won't gather faith.”
Penia smiled like a villain from a story.
“As you know, humans lose their longing when they obtain what they want. But if they don't manage to satisfy it, they become more and more anxious. And if they see a few receive a little reward, the anxiety becomes stronger.”
“So there is no rush. We just have to stimulate their longing when we wish and then grant blessings. Of course, you decide the timing.”
Alon suddenly remembered something he had forgotten:
The reputation Penia had in Psychedelia.
“Hmm— as expected, having lived it in your own flesh gives you a special understanding,” said Evan, listening.
Penia looked at him confused, then saw Evan's mocking smile, and frowned upon understanding.
“Do you want to die?”
Evan shrugged.
Alon, understanding nothing, tilted his head.
“…What are you talking about?”
“Cough cough— nothing.”
Penia looked away, her ears red.
Alon still didn't understand.
After meeting with Penia, Alon went directly to the library where Heinkel was.
He wanted to keep talking with Penia, but he had been told that Heinkel was waiting for him.
Upon arriving, Heinkel greeted him by waving her hand.
[ Oh, you've come. ]
“......Long time no see, Heinkel.”
After a simple greeting, Heinkel went straight to the point.
[ Actually, I wanted to confirm something first. Can I ask? ]
“Sure.”
[ According to Penia, if I receive your blessing I can use a Mage's magic, is that true? ]
“Well, in principle yes…”
When Alon affirmed, Heinkel showed determination.
[ Then, could you give me a blessing? ]
She asked directly.
“…A blessing?”
[ Yes. ]
“It’s not difficult, but…”
Giving a blessing wasn't complicated.
The problem was another matter.
“......Heinkel, you cannot use magic in your current state, right?”
Because Heinkel was a spirit— or something very close to a specter.
At the mention—
[ Yes, in this state I cannot use magic. Maybe manipulate mana, but no more. ]
She nodded.
But then she said:
[ But don't worry about that. ]
“......What do you mean?”
[ I can return to life. ]
She blurted out.
“......Pardon?”
Alon was taken aback.
Heinkel was about to say something, but stopped and then added:
[ Well— better I show you. Just wait a bit. I need about 30 minutes to prepare it. ]
She smiled with confidence.
Alon nodded, still confused, and Heinkel laughed: “Hehehe”.
[ Ah. ]
As if she suddenly remembered something.
[ By the way, when is the wedding? ]
“…What?”
[ What's wrong? Are you playing dumb? The whole Tower already knows. ]
“?”
And in that instant—
Flash.
The red brooch began to shine. As if it contained blood.
