[CHAPTER 145]
The Tower Master, Count Leyton Ascard, sat in the dark study of his northern villa.
Thick velvet curtains covered the windows, allowing only faint candlelight and the flames of the fireplace to barely illuminate the room.
From within the shadows, his long, slender fingers slowly caressed the crystal ball resting on the desk.
A thin white light flickered inside the crystal ball, and soon a mage clad in a deep robe appeared.
The Tower Master lifted his dull ash-gray eyes and looked at him.
The mage inside the crystal ball began his report.
“We have found traces of Lady Amelia Wentworth. There were clues leading from Runeton toward the northern forest. In addition, we confirmed residual mana belonging to two mages who fled the Mage Tower with Sylvia, namely Linen Esclat and Ian Crawford.”
At the name Amelia, the Tower Master’s hand stopped.
A dangerous smile spread across his pale, colorless face.
“Be more specific.”
“We discovered a map at the inn where the young lady stayed. There were marks drawn and erased on it, and when we examined the surrounding area, faint traces of Ian and Linen’s mana remained on the forest path and rocks nearby.”
The Tower Master’s smile deepened little by little as he listened to the report.
This did not feel like a simple discovery, but rather an intentional attempt to lure him in.
“I thought they were desperate to flee, yet they try to bait me. I wonder how convincing a trap they think they have prepared.”
The Tower Master narrowed his eyes as he muttered in mockery.
Sylvia had been his disciple, but she was a mage of outstanding talent.
Until recently, Ian and Linen had also been considered fairly promising mages within the Mage Tower.
“I thought they were clever.”
Even so, the three of them combined could never defeat the Tower Master.
They might try to rely on magic circles or magical tools, but the absolute amount of mana they possessed was woefully insufficient, and they would know that better than anyone.
“What could it be, I wonder.”
What are they relying on to draw me in?
Was the bait Amelia Wentworth?
If so, they had chosen well.
Lately, the Tower Master’s greatest interest was Amelia Wentworth herself.
However, as he mulled over the report, something felt off.
“You say Ian and Linen’s mana remained on forest paths and rocks?”
“Yes. It was unquestionably theirs.”
“How could human mana remain on mere natural objects?”
When magic is used on grass, trees, or stones, the caster’s mana does make contact, but it never lingers and is quickly dispersed and absorbed.
If it remained, what did that imply?
Even when one goes to great lengths to create magical tools to temporarily store mana, the effect never lasts long.
Yet for their mana to remain as traces, and across such a wide area at that, what method had they used?
“There is certainly… something there.”
Count Ascard stroked his chin with an intrigued expression.
A powerful curiosity stirred within him.
Curiosity had always been the driving force that led him forward.
His dabbling in forbidden magic to understand what lay beyond this world, and even his interest in Amelia Wentworth, all stemmed from that same curiosity.
“Was there anything unusual about the places where the mana remained?”
“That is…”
The mage inside the crystal ball hesitated.
It seemed he had not investigated that far.
“Tsk.”
Count Ascard frowned in displeasure.
How could someone dealing in something as great as magic have such shallow intellectual curiosity?
That was precisely why he had liked Sylvia so much.
Count Ascard rose from his seat.
“I will have to see it for myself.”
The corner of Count Ascard’s mouth twisted upward.
A calm madness lingered in his murmured voice.
* * *
“What could it be, I wonder.”
What are they relying on to draw me in?
Was the bait Amelia Wentworth?
If so, they had chosen well.
Lately, the Tower Master’s greatest interest was Amelia Wentworth herself.
However, as he mulled over the report, something felt off.
“You say Ian and Linen’s mana remained on forest paths and rocks?”
“Yes. It was unquestionably theirs.”
“How could human mana remain on mere natural objects?”
When magic is used on grass, trees, or stones, the caster’s mana does make contact, but it never lingers and is quickly dispersed and absorbed.
If it remained, what did that imply?
Even when one struggles to create magical tools to temporarily store mana, the effect does not last long.
Yet for their mana to remain as traces, and so extensively, what method had they used?
“There is certainly… something there.”
Count Ascard stroked his chin, wearing an intrigued expression.
A powerful curiosity arose once more.
Curiosity had been the force that guided him all his life.
His interest in forbidden magic to see beyond this world, and his fascination with Amelia Wentworth, were both rooted in that same curiosity.
“Was there anything unusual about the places where the mana remained?”
“That is…”
The mage inside the crystal ball hesitated again.
“Tsk.”
Count Ascard frowned, clearly displeased.
That was why Sylvia had appealed to him so much.
Count Ascard rose to his feet.
“I will go myself.”
His lips twisted into a crooked smile, and a quiet madness lingered in his voice as he muttered.
“Interesting. It is as if it is calling to me.”
The Tower Master gestured, almost as if surprised by his own words, and ordered the mages to advance.
His subordinates carefully moved forward along the forest path, taking the lead while keeping watch on their surroundings.
The fog grew thicker with every step, and the darkness deepened on all sides.
Yet Count Ascard advanced without the slightest discomfort, even within the darkness.
His pale face and ash-gray eyes shone all the more clearly under the moonlight.
From afar, he sensed the flow of magic crystal powder growing clearer and converging toward a single point.
That was undoubtedly the destination.
A twisted smile surfaced once more on the Tower Master’s face.
With each step, the excitement born of arrogance and anticipation grew stronger.
Even if it was a trap, he was confident that he could never be defeated by three fledgling mages.
Seventy years of magical research, along with a body and mana strengthened through forbidden means, were the source of that confidence.
By the standards of this world, it was not an unfounded belief.
The Tower Master easily guessed that the one who had discovered this was Amelia Wentworth.
“Amelia Wentworth, to think you would prepare such a remarkable gift for me….”
His murmur echoed softly through the quiet night air.
The subordinate mages merely held their breath as they followed behind him.
“How admirable. I like it very much.”
Imagining those who awaited him ahead, along with Amelia, the Tower Master quickened his pace.
The hem of his black cloak fluttered in the night wind as he quietly disappeared into the deep darkness.
As if drawn by the Tower Master’s shadow, the surrounding trees swayed in unison, seeming to part and open a path for him.
Each time he passed, the surrounding air pressed down heavily, thick with mana, making it hard to breathe.
The subordinate mages carefully kept their distance as they followed behind him, yet the overwhelming presence pouring from his back made even breathing feel difficult.
The Tower Master looked forward all the more to his meeting with Amelia Wentworth, who had so willingly prepared such a meticulous snare for him.
As he moved forward, he even let out a satisfied hum.
