WEERR 07

WEERR

Posted by Cruelty, Released on October 17, 2025

Chapter 7

‘Wait—what’s that old man doing at a ball?’

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t that he couldn’t be there.
Even if everyone knew the Mage Tower’s finances were a mess, the Tower was still the Tower.
The authority of the Tower Master wasn’t something that could be dismissed, and he received invitations to important events all the time.

He had just never actually attended one. And the reason was simple—

“Talking to those stupid humans is enough to make my blood boil!”

The Tower Master’s temper was legendary.
He despised social gatherings and held an almost pathological belief in ability above all else.

‘When I asked him to come to events like this to attract investors, he wouldn’t even listen!’

Grumbling inwardly, Trisha suddenly froze.

“Such impertinence! Can’t even say hello properly, just staring like that?”

It felt as if his scolding voice would strike her any second now.

“Ah—you’re awake.”

Just then, the Tower Master’s aide, Vesier, entered the room.
He was the only one capable of enduring the Tower Master’s outbursts, so Trisha, as the Vice Tower Master, had often worked closely with him and gotten to know him fairly well.

Her face brightened a little at the sight of a familiar face—

“You.”

The Tower Master had already walked right up to her.

“…Yes?”

“Why did you stop that child’s mother from coming near?”

The unexpected question made Trisha blink in surprise.

“Ah, Tower Master! Please, you’ll frighten the young lady if you rush at her like that!”

Vesier hurriedly tried to intervene, alarmed at the brusque tone that might come off as disrespectful, but the Tower Master didn’t care in the slightest.
And neither, for that matter, did Trisha.

He must’ve known what that poison was right away. That’s why he handed me the mana essence in the first place.

Trisha looked up at him.
He gazed down at her with his usual sharp, stern expression—like someone saying, I already know the answer, so you’d better give the right one.

Feeling a strange sense of pressure, Trisha finally spoke.

“It was Amav poison. It’s contagious.”

“So you knew that—and you went near, but kept the mother away?”

His tone was like an interrogation. Even Vesier, who had been trying to calm him, began glancing nervously at Trisha.

“I knew I’d be fine. I have resistance to it.”

“Resistance?”

One of the Tower Master’s eyebrows shot up sharply.

“You call that resistance? You collapsed like a rag doll! Saved the boy only to make us clean up your corpse instead?”

“……”

“Did you think that’d make you look heroic?”

He clicked his tongue, exasperated.

“If you want to die, find another way. I’m sick of watching people sacrifice themselves.”

He shook his head in irritation.

Trisha was utterly dumbfounded.

Why is he being so difficult?
Sure, everyone knew he had a bad temper, but this was excessive—even for him.
Did he really have to talk like that to someone who’d just nearly died?

As she stared at him, bewildered, the Tower Master spoke again.

“So—you’re the adopted daughter of House Vins, the one who took Trisha’s place?”

“Oh dear!”

His tone was openly displeased, his face twisted into a scowl.
Vesier looked horrified, but the Tower Master clearly didn’t care.

Meanwhile, Trisha had no idea what he was on about.

This was the same man who’d once said—

“I don’t even want to speak to incompetent fools! It makes me feel dumber just being near them!”

So why was he suddenly interested in the adopted daughter of the Vins family?

“…Yes,” she answered cautiously.

“Ha!”

He snorted loudly, clearly unimpressed.

“Adopted daughter? You?”

The tone was different this time—less contemptuous, more… startled.

“What’s gotten into you, Tower Master? Have you finally gone senile?”

Vesier’s face paled.
His expression said clearly, Don’t tell me I have to take care of a senile old man now, too.

Could it be…?

Did he recognize me?

Hope flickered in Trisha’s chest.

But then—

“Ridiculous.”

The Tower Master’s voice was laced with cold mockery.
He opened his mouth as if to say more—

—but the infirmary door burst open.

“Ishas!”

It was Trisha’s parents.

The Count and Countess of House Vins had arrived late to the ball and rushed here the moment they heard their daughter had collapsed.

“M-Mother. Father.”

The words slipped out naturally.

The change in address had come just after she’d received her new name—on the carriage ride home, Rens had personally asked her to start calling them that.
Until then, she hadn’t been able to force the words out, no matter how hard she tried.
But once she agreed to their request, it was as if some invisible restraint had lifted; she could suddenly say it as easily as breathing.

“Are you all right? What on earth happened?”

The two of them rushed to her side, eyes red and trembling with fear.

The Tower Master spoke curtly from behind them.

“I handled it immediately. She’ll be fine.”

“Oh, thank you, Tower Master. We don’t even know how to repay you…!”

“Think nothing of it.”

“No, truly—we’ll make sure you’re properly rewarded.”

As Vesier quietly muttered the word reward with a small grin, the Tower Master’s expression didn’t soften at all.

“You nearly lost your daughter again.”

The Count and Countess froze mid-bow.

They understood perfectly well what that mocking tone implied.

“…What do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I said.”

“Tower Master!”

Even Vesier cried out, his voice breaking with alarm, but the old man didn’t so much as flinch.

“It seems the daughters of House Vins are all taught to sacrifice themselves before anything else.”

“That’s too much, Tower Master!”

Vesier’s sharp rebuke filled the infirmary.

Trisha pressed her fingertips to her temple; her head throbbed, though she couldn’t tell if it was from the noise or the lingering effects of the poison.

“I apologize, Count, Countess,” Vesier stepped in quickly, seeing that the Tower Master had no intention of doing so himself.
“I’m sure he didn’t mean it that way.”

It was the kind of apology everyone recognized as purely formal.
The Tower Master’s face was as unrepentant as ever.

“…We’ll accept your apology,” the Count said after a brief pause.

Even if it was hollow, they chose to let it go.
They knew the old man’s words weren’t born of cruelty but of anger—anger at the pain of losing Trisha.

“But please—apologize properly to my daughter.”

That, however, was a line they couldn’t let him cross.

Their child, who had shown such selflessness, didn’t deserve to be mocked as if she’d done something foolish.

If we overlook this, how will that child feel?

Even their patience had its limits.
Vesier glanced at the Tower Master anxiously.

Please, just this once, apologize properly.

That hope filled his eyes, but the Tower Master looked as unbothered as ever.

“…My apologies, young lady.”

A hush fell over the room.

To everyone’s astonishment, the Tower Master backed down without argument.
Vesier nearly cheered in relief.

“It’s all right,” Trisha said, blinking in confusion.

What’s gotten into this old man?

Given his personality, she’d expected something more like, “Ah, my mistake. There, happy now?”—a half-hearted apology that was barely worth hearing.
But this? This sounded… sincere.

When Trisha nodded, equally bewildered, the Count and Countess finally relaxed.
After all, the Tower Master wasn’t someone they could easily confront.

So that’s the adopted daughter, Vesier thought, glancing at the couple.
He’d assumed she was just a stand-in for their lost child, but from the way they cared for her, that clearly wasn’t the case—at least, not anymore.

Anyway, the Tower Master apologized, so it’s best we take our leave now.
Raising one’s voice in front of a recovering child was hardly appropriate.

“Well then, we’ll be going. Tower Master, shall we?”

Vesier began to lead the way out—only for the Tower Master to stop him with a single sentence.