Chapter 8
It seemed Leo and the other fools hadn’t noticed, but the illusion magic that had deceived them all wasn’t Evangeline’s doing.
During the height of the test, a black butterfly kept flitting annoyingly in front of Evangeline’s eyes.
Irritated, he had tried to burn it, but at that moment, the butterfly, as if waiting for it, plunged into the hourglass before his eyes and vanished like smoke.
It left behind a strange ripple, like a shimmering haze, as an afterimage.
It was so fleeting, and the trace the butterfly left was so faint, that no one but Evangeline noticed the anomaly.
Though it bruised his pride, he didn’t have the skill to cast an illusion magic sophisticated enough to fool everyone in the room.
‘…Four pairs of wings can manage that level, right? Of course, there’s no reason he’d deliberately underreport his skill… but Velkias has always been unsettlingly inscrutable.’
Well, whatever. Today’s harvest was seeing the stunned face of a certain smug idiot.
‘Plus, this makes me the overseer, so I’ll win the bet too.’
So, regardless of Velkias’s motives, Evangeline was in high spirits.
“Anyway, I don’t know what you’re thinking, Velkias, but since you pulled this stunt on your own, you owe me—”
“Not really. I just picked you because you’re more convenient than Leo.”
An unexpected response cut him off.
A cool, dry voice, reminiscent of late autumn or early winter, settled into the colorless corridor.
Evangeline furrowed his brow in confusion.
“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You don’t have friends.”
“What?”
“No connections, no mentor, not even superficial acquaintances—you’re always alone, no matter where or when. The only tenuous bond you have is with the Master of the Magic Tower, maybe? But he doesn’t care about you at all.”
“What, what did you say?”
Evangeline, flustered, questioned his ears, but Velkias continued in his usual impassive tone, saying only what he wanted.
“You’re equally unkind to everyone, regardless of age or gender, and you treat everyone but the Master as inferior. So no one likes you. If you disappeared today, no one would come looking.”
“Are you picking a fight?”
“No. You asked for a reason, so I’m giving you one.”
Evangeline still couldn’t fathom why the boy in front of him was spouting such things.
Being suddenly called out on his personality flaws soured his mood, and his face twisted into a scowl.
Just then, as if clouds had blocked the sun, a faint shadow fell over the corridor where they stood.
Velkias’s glass-like golden eyes, devoid of the vibrant warmth of sunlight, held the cold, static hue of metal.
Staring into them for too long evoked an eerie chill.
“Erin, you’ve always harbored a strong inferiority complex and insecurity toward me, yet you try so hard to hide it.”
In that moment, a powerful sense of unease brushed the back of his neck, overpowering his displeasure.
“So I judged that no matter what I do to you, it won’t create any significant variables in your future actions.”
But by the time his instincts screamed danger and he stepped back, it was too late.
“That’s why I chose you.”
“What does that—”
“I’ll at least let you win that bet, so don’t feel too wronged.”
Before he could react, his vision went black.
A primal fear engulfed him, as if he’d been thrown into a frozen abyss or a pitch-black void.
A merciless pressure, as if it would crush every organ in his body, constricted him from all sides.
It felt as though his entire being would be pulverized into dust in this void, a terrifying threat of annihilation. Evangeline could only gasp for air.
Choking from oxygen deprivation, he clawed frantically at his throat, then, as a last resort, drew up his mana to its maximum and unleashed it.
At that moment, the intangible force that had been binding him like a net pierced through his skin.
Pop! Thud…!
The next moment, a sound like soft fruit being sliced by something sharp rang out.
The dark mana that had filled the space like a night sky finally receded.
The metallic stench of blood in the corridor was quickly swept away by an empty breeze.
-Velki… you… insane… I’ll never… forgive…
A faint whisper, laced with mana and dripping with a desperate curse, clung stickily from behind.
But Velkias, as if he heard nothing, calmly turned and walked down the corridor.
The unidentifiable, fragmented remains left in his wake soon began to writhe, then silently slithered into the shadows and disappeared.
* * *
Footsteps echoed in the corridor.
Velkias Bellegoat stepped onto the red carpet and ascended the endless staircase.
Soon, he arrived at the end of a long hallway on the 80th floor.
“…”
There, portraits of the Northern Magic Tower’s official successors were densely hung.
He had heard that on the topmost 100th floor, portraits of past Masters were displayed.
Velkias gazed at the most familiar portrait among those arranged chronologically.
A young boy with black hair and golden eyes, wearing a bored expression.
This was a portrait hung six years ago, when Velkias, at the mere age of eight, was recognized as the official successor of the Magic Tower.
Since that day, the painting had remained unchanged, a constant, meaningless backdrop every time he passed through the 80th-floor corridor.
But this familiar scene had abruptly changed this morning, without warning.
Despite Velkias being very much alive, a new portrait of an unfamiliar girl had suddenly appeared beside his.
The implication was clear.
The one the Tower deemed “most suitable.”
With the current Master absent on personal business for some time, Velkias was the only one to discover this at the moment.
His head tilted smoothly, dark hair imbued with shadow swaying.
His straight gaze pierced through the thick wall, as if seeing something beyond.
Today was the day new lambs entered the outer circle of the Northern Magic Tower.
The only thing that could explain this unexpected anomaly was that.
Turning his head again, Velkias stared obsessively at the unfamiliar face in the portrait, as if burning it into his retina, and finally let a faint smile curl his lips.
“Interesting.”
Whoosh.
In the still darkness, without a breath of wind, a deep blue robe embroidered with four pairs of wings fluttered slowly.
Like lightning piercing storm clouds to strike the earth, black mana erupted with blinding radiance, enveloping the boy.
His jet-black hair began to turn white from the tips.
His inorganic, gleaming golden eyes shifted to a molten red.
In an instant, transformed to resemble Evangeline, Velkias stepped boldly into a door conjured in the air.
‘Shall we see who it is before anyone else finds out?’
Eliminating the girl in the portrait before the Master of the Magic Tower returned.
That was Velkias Bellegoat’s objective.
