The muddy water dripped from my body as I ran along the soaked trail toward the tower.
I ignored the discomfort. The exhaustion. The muscle pain. My only priority was getting out of there.
As soon as I left the forest behind, the stone stairs of the tower appeared before me. I dashed up the time-worn steps, feeling the weight of my overloaded armor dragging me down. But I didn’t stop.
At the top of the stairs, the great central gate of the tower loomed, and before it, the defense statue—a miniature minotaur-like creature, carved from raw stone.
The instant I approached, it came to life.
Its stone eyes glowed with a faint light, and the statue took a step forward, raising its stone axe. Its expression was unreadable, but its thunderous voice echoed in the air: "Halt, acolyte!"
I took a deep breath, my mind still on high alert. I knew it would ask this question.
"What is the password?"
I remained silent for a moment, forcing my exhausted mind to remember. Then, the ghost’s words came back to me—the password he had given me before I set out on this mission.
"Argon Vermillion."
The minotaur sighed, and a wave of steam escaped from its bovine nostrils. Its hardened gaze faded as it stepped back, returning to its original position. Within seconds, it was stone once more.
I didn’t hesitate.
I slipped past the great gate, stepping into the tower’s main hall.
The momentary silence was broken as soon as my boots touched the cold stone floor of the corridor. Every gaze turned to me.
I understood why.
I was completely covered in filth, my armor nearly drained of energy, my hair disheveled, my face smeared with mud and dried blood.
The sour stench of rotting flesh and stagnant water clung to me like an invisible specter.
Ignoring the stares and whispers around me, I walked straight to the mission delivery counter, where the ghost who had given me the mission was waiting.
Without a word, I tossed the crumpled scroll onto the counter, followed by Bleia’s black pendant.
The ghost raised a spectral eyebrow as he picked up the pendant. For a moment, he remained still, studying the artifact intently. Then, his gaze met mine.
"Wait a moment!" His voice came out tense, almost nervous.
Before I could react, he vanished into thin air.
I stood there, unmoving, feeling my heart pound in my chest. This was not a good sign.
Seconds later, he reappeared in the blink of an eye, holding another scroll.
"Go to the boardroom," he ordered, his voice laden with urgency. "Some administrators want to see you."
"Shit!"
My stomach twisted. What was going on?
I wanted to believe it was just a standard procedure, but my intuition screamed otherwise.
Was it because of Kirkou’s death?
Damn it...
The truth was, I could deceive acolytes, outwit merchants, even cheat in negotiations. But... fooling real mages?
That was a different story.
Even so, I closed my eyes for a moment, forcing my mind to calm down.
Think, Tyler.
If they pushed too hard… if they tried to unearth truths I didn’t want to reveal...
The Virtual Laboratory could manipulate my memories, making me believe anything.
With that, I could even make an experienced mage believe what I believed—after all, my entire body would be pointing to a truth, even if that truth was an artificial one, created by the Virtual Laboratory.
I took a deep breath. I prepared myself.
Then, without hesitation, I headed toward the boardroom.
As soon as I reached the massive glass door, I stopped, keeping my posture rigid.
I had been here before. On my first day at the tower, when Marcelina had brought me to choose my mentor. But this time, the situation was different. Very different.
I wouldn’t dare enter without being summoned.
Then, a voice came from the other side.
"Enter, acolyte."
The tone was calm but carried a hidden weight.
I took a deep breath and stepped into the door as it opened on its own.
The boardroom was exactly as I remembered: towering walls lined with shelves filled with scrolls and books, glows illuminating the room with a pale light.
But this time, the presence in that room was different. More intimidating.
The elderly mage who had attended to Marcelina on the day of my arrival sat at the center of the long stone table, his expression as austere as ever. But he was not alone.
Five other mages were there with him.
I didn’t dare look at them directly.
I simply bowed, keeping my head lowered, and waited.
"This is unacceptable!" one of the mages spat the words out in fury.
My attention shifted to the table.
The black pendant I had handed to the ghost rested on the cold stone surface, surrounded by the mages’ heavy gazes.
"The audacity of these bastards has gone beyond all limits!" another mage said, his voice vibrating with magical energy. "They attacked our acolytes. The damned dark mages are now sending apprentices against ours? This is a declaration of war."
"We’ve always known the filthy dogs of dark magic were treacherous, but now they’re getting bolder," said a white-haired mage with severe eyes.
The elderly mage at the center let out a heavy sigh, sliding a wrinkled finger over the pendant on the table.
"This is not just boldness..." his voice was like a sharp blade. "It’s a direct affront."
"We must respond. Now," said a mage in a golden hood.
"Calm down," another interrupted, the only voice still serene. "Before taking any rash actions, we must understand exactly who we are facing. Have those damned mages completely lost their minds?"
A brief silence followed. But before the conversation could take a turn that an acolyte like me shouldn’t hear, one of the mages looked directly at me.
"Come here."
My back tensed. But I stepped forward, firm-footed, and bowed before him.
The mage raised a scroll sealed with a magical sigil and extended it to me.
"Sign here."
I lifted my head, my eyes meeting his for a brief moment.
"Sir… may I read it first?"
The room fell into an oppressive silence.
The mages exchanged glances, surprised by my audacity.
But after a moment, the elderly mage made a slight gesture with his hand.
"Let him read."
The scroll was placed before me.
And then, I read.
[The signer of this contract agrees, of their own free will and under the authority of the Arcane Council, to maintain absolute secrecy regarding the events witnessed in the forest.]
[By this agreement, the Tower of Magic imposes the following irrevocable clauses:]
[Absolute Secrecy: The signer shall not report, comment on, or hint at any information DIRECTLY related to the events of the mission in the forest to any acolyte of the academy. Any attempt to convey such information will result in immediate and unpredictable magical repercussions, as determined by the senior mages.]
[Sanctions for Breach of Contract: Should the signer attempt to violate this contract, their mind will automatically block the memory of the event before any words can be spoken. Repeated attempts will cause progressive deterioration of the involved memory, potentially resulting in death by acute cerebral meltdown. The Arcane Council reserves the right to apply additional punishments if necessary.]
[Duration and Enforcement: This contract shall remain active until the Arcane Council decides otherwise. The signer may not claim ignorance of this contract as a means of contesting it.]
[By signing this scroll, the signer fully acknowledges and accepts the conditions described.]
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I swallowed hard.
The scroll hovered gently before me, the words glowing with a golden hue that pulsed like a living breath.
My eyes scanned each line, analyzing the implications.
"They want to silence me completely."
Doubts swirled in my mind, but I didn’t let them slip out. They remained trapped within me.
"Can the Virtual Laboratory detect any traps?"
I requested the analysis mentally, and the response came seconds later:
["No traps detected. Legitimate magical contract. No hidden mechanisms or direct curses."]
I exhaled silently. That didn’t mean there were no consequences—only that they weren’t concealed.
My hands clenched into fists for a brief moment, but I had no choice.
I lifted the magical quill that floated beside the scroll and signed my name.
The moment the tip touched the parchment, the letters glowed a blood-red hue before merging into the paper and vanishing.
The contract was now sealed.
The mage took the scroll without even looking at me and tucked it into the sleeve of his robe.
"Now leave."
I didn’t argue. I simply bowed and left quickly.
But before the door closed behind me, I heard one of the mages speaking in a grave tone:
"I sent a few other trackers, and it seems that some talented acolytes from our academy died fighting against the other acolytes."
I didn’t stop to hear more.
I just kept walking...
....
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