Chapter 70: Number 141

After searching for a new home for the Masterials and inadvertently becoming the Lord of the Magic Tower, Revan returned once more to the Prison of the Swamp.

When Revan reappeared in the library, Ark looked at him with a surprised expression.

"I'm back."

"Inspector?"

"Can I get a glass of water? Make it cold, please."

"Ah, yes!"

Led into the library by the warden, Revan sat down naturally and asked Ark for some water.

As he accepted the cold water, Revan pulled out the old books he had received from Hagon.

"Here. These are new books from the Gray Memory this time. Lord Hagon asked me to deliver them to you."

"Wow! New books!"

"Is it that great? They’re called new books, but honestly, they're just old books."

"Of course, it’s great! It's so hard to get books here!"

"So you like reading, huh?"

"If you stay here, Inspector, you'll end up loving books too."

"Because there's nothing else to do but read?"

"Exactly."

"I guess that makes sense. But, hey…"

Revan took a sip of the cold water Ark had given him, then set the cup down on the table.

Revan spoke.

"Are you planning to live here like this for the rest of your life?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Outside, you were swinging hammers and working with metal, but in here, there's nothing to do, so you cling to books. Isn't it boring?"

"…That's just how it is. It's a problem we chose ourselves, but in other words, there was no other way."

"So, you're saying that if there were another way, you'd quit this life in a heartbeat?"

"…What are you getting at?"

"I'll help you. I'll get you out of here. Oh, and I'll make sure you can work with hammers and metal again, too."

"Uh…?"

"Why? Does it sound like a joke?"

Revan was still smiling.

But the smile that had seemed playful just a moment ago now looked strangely frightening.

Revan said,

"Do you know about War Mages?"

"No. This is the first I've heard of them."

"They're a kind of mage. To put it simply, they're the ones the Central Tower Association is frantically searching for."

"The Central Tower Association?"

"Yeah. The Central Tower Association and the War Mages have been mortal enemies since ancient times. The ones they want you to shun are most likely War Mages."

"How do you know all this, Inspector?"

"How do I know? Because I am a War Mage."

"What…?"

"That's the problem, isn't it? The Central Tower Association monopolizes all magic in the world. If that's the problem, stick with me. I'll give you the magic that the Central Tower Association has been hoarding."

"Th-that's…"

At Revan’s sudden proposal, Ark looked confused.

It was hard to accept, even after hearing it with his own ears.

Revan continued.

"From now on, the tyranny of the Tower Association will only get worse, not better. Especially in Gald Fortress. Because, not long ago, I turned the Sub-Lord of Gald Tower into a bloody mess."

"Wha—you did that, Inspector?"

"Yeah. It wasn’t without reason, of course. Anyway, now the mages of Gald Tower will be after me, but I’m not going to run; I’ll fight back every time. That’s my fate. But what about you? No, what about you Masterials? How long are you going to keep locking yourselves away in this wretched cell, restricting your own freedom?"

"That’s…"

At Revan's question, Ark lowered his head.

He was ashamed.

But it was understandable.

Locking themselves in prison was all they could do.

Revan said,

"Are you ashamed?"

"Yes."

"You don’t need to be ashamed. That was probably the best choice you could make at the time. But now, it’s different, isn’t it? I’ll help you. In the name of War Mage, I’ll give you a new place to live and provide you with new magic—not that of the Central Tower Association. So let’s start again. I have an offer for you."

In that moment, Revan looked to Ark like an angel with pure white wings.

Ark grabbed Revan’s hand and asked,

"Will everything really work out if I just trust you, Inspector?"

"Yes. I guarantee it. However…"

"However?"

"There are some conditions."

"…May I ask what those conditions are?"

At the mention of conditions, Ark's grip on Revan’s hand weakened a little.

He was afraid of what the conditions might be.

Sensing Ark’s tension, Revan softened his expression, speaking as if to a child.

"…Before I tell you the conditions, let me ask you something."

"Please, go ahead."

"Thank you. I’ll ask, then. What is most important to you Masterials?"

"The most important thing?"

Ark tilted his head at Revan’s question.

It was a difficult question.

"I mean, for example… if you could hold to your beliefs and continue your craft, would you be willing to give up everything else?"

"May I ask what kind of things you mean by giving up?"

"For example, your name?"

"We don’t have names even now."

"Not your real name—I mean your title. Would you be okay with being called something other than Masterial, as long as you could uphold your beliefs and continue your work?"

"Um… that’s a bit difficult to answer."

"It is a bit difficult, huh? Then let me get straight to the point. The god I serve said this: It’s not hard to share their magic with you, but in return, you must become War Mages like me—not Masterials. That’s the condition for receiving magic."

"War Mages? Us?"

"Yeah. Giving up being Masterials and becoming War Mages. That’s the condition I’m offering."

"…"

Hearing the condition, Ark fell silent.

Give up the name of Masterial? He had never even considered such a thing.

That’s when—

"What exactly are you saying?"

"Father?"

A strange voice sounded from somewhere.

It was Ark’s father.

He wore a red badge on his chest marked with the number 141.

Ark’s father, Number 141, stepped in front of Ark and spoke.

"Who are you? Who are you to tell us to give up our name?"

"F-father! Let me explain! This man is…!"

"Ark."

An overwhelming charisma.

When Number 141 quietly called Ark’s name, Ark unconsciously dropped his gaze.

His father, Number 141, continued.

"I’m asking: who are you?"

His voice was commanding.

He was clearly hostile.

But Revan replied calmly, without fear.

"…It’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Revan."

"I’m not asking for your name."

"I know. But my parents taught me to introduce myself by name first."

"You received a good upbringing."

"Thank you. Then, to introduce myself properly: I am a War Mage. To put it simply, another mage—one who stands in opposition to the Central Tower Association."

"Another mage?"

"Yes. The order to shun someone from the Central Tower Association was probably meant for me. So, I bear some responsibility for this whole situation as well."

"And that’s why you’re asking us to give up our name?"

"I don’t know how much you overheard, but I was presenting an alternative. There’s a close connection between you and me, isn’t there?"

"We don’t need it. We’re in this state because of mages, and I don’t want to be a pawn of mages again. I’d rather die here and leave behind only the name of Masterial."

"Are you serious?"

"Absolutely."

Number 141’s eyes were resolute.

It didn’t seem likely his stubbornness would break. But—

‘There’s no tree that doesn’t fall if you chop at it ten times. This was only the first swing. So, there’s no need to rush.’

Only amateurs try to force their opinions unconditionally.

So Revan decided not to rush and instead took a step back for now.

"Understood. But I’ll come back here again. Because, as you said, regardless of what happened, I also bear some responsibility for the schemes of the mages. So even if my offer makes you uncomfortable, please at least discuss it with the others. Your son can explain the details of my proposal."

A composed tone and a gentlemanly explanation.

He had done all he could.

After finishing, Revan nodded politely, left the library, and exited the prison.

‘Now, what should I do next?’

He never expected his proposal to be accepted right away. It was that complicated, after all.

Besides, Revan knew nothing would change if he just waited around.

Because those people are NPCs related to a quest—unless the conditions are met, they would never change their attitude.

‘It’s the player who creates the variables. Let’s try to find a solution.’

The only fortunate thing was that the objective of this quest wasn’t to turn the Masterials into War Mages, but simply to get them out of prison.

So if it came down to it, he could just break them out.

‘For now, focus on the growth quest.’

Until he came up with a clever plan, Revan decided to tackle the growth quest he’d been putting off.

---

"That man keeps coming and going from the prison?"

Top floor of Gald Tower.

There, Repel was receiving a report from a man in a black mask.

The masked man was a member of Black Hand, the assassin group Repel had hired.

Repel had contracted Black Hand to assassinate Revan, but before the order could be given, he demanded they first gather information.

Just in case Revan had some other scheme.

Repel’s intuition had been right on the mark.

"Anything else unusual?"

"Nothing."

"Go, then."

A nod.

The man finished his report and disappeared at Repel’s command.

After the man vanished, Repel sank into thought.

‘Why the Prison of the Swamp, of all places?’

What was that man thinking, going in and out of the prison?

Repel pondered the connection between the Prison of the Swamp and War Mages for a long time.

And at last, he found the answer.

‘Could he be after the Masterials?’

The Prison of the Swamp is a place full of worthless prisoners.

But even among piles of trash, there’s always treasure hidden away.

That was the Masterials.

Moreover, the Masterials locked away there all harbored resentment toward the Central Tower Association, so it was highly likely they would sympathize with the War Mage.

‘Yes. If it’s the Masterials, that explains it. They’re valuable personnel, and anyway, it’s our fault they’re in prison now.’

If the War Mage’s true objective was the Masterials, then Repel had to stop him no matter what.

‘But how?’

Currently, the Masterials in prison have been sentenced to life after the Central Tower Association made the kingdom’s courts levy massive penalties. They can’t be killed—the Association’s best measure.

So, even as Lord of Gald Tower, Repel couldn’t kill the imprisoned Masterials carelessly.

After much deliberation, Repel made up his mind.

‘Right. If it’s not by my hand, but by some unforeseen accident, there’ll be nothing anyone can do.’

Resolved, Repel called out,

"Is Peron outside?"

"Yes, Tower Lord."

"Summon Black Hand at once."

"Understood."

Greed blazed in Repel’s eyes.