The raid on the New Mage Tower was set to begin at dawn the next morning—at the very moment the sun rose.
Since mages usually stayed up all night engrossed in research, their daily rhythm was often inverted.
Isla Machia was perpetually veiled in a shroud of thick, hazy steam, so even when night turned to morning, sunlight barely pierced through.
It was a place where people had no choice but to live under dim, gray skies rather than bright ones.
And so, adapting to such an environment was only natural.
Scratch, scratch.
In the dark night, Ludger sat under the small glow of a gas lamp, pen gliding over paper.
The black ink spreading across the page recorded details about Rine’s treatment.
‘Curses. Mana theory. Biology. I need to consider all of them.’
It wasn’t just about curses alone.
Rine’s body was currently in turmoil—her spatial-attribute mana and divine power were entangled and clashing violently within her.
The battlefield that was her body was deteriorating at an alarming rate.
For now, Ludger’s emergency measures had forced a truce, but no one knew when the boiling power within her would erupt again.
It could happen later—or it could happen right now.
He was suppressing it by periodically infusing energy, but it was merely a stopgap.
‘The reaction is accelerating. At this rate, even my power won’t be able to contain it.’
Even true magic—the mystical kind born from mastery—wasn’t enough.
He had to eliminate the root cause: the divine power itself.
‘I’ll need to use a curse to nullify the divine power and make the ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) two forces annihilate each other. But even that won’t be the end.’
Even if the divine power were erased, Rine’s ever-expanding spatial mana would still be a problem.
After purging the divine power, the raging spatial mana had to be subdued.
Cravat would handle the removal of divine power through ancient curses, but restraining Rine’s own mana—that part fell to Ludger.
‘For that, I need to create a proper medicine.’
If this situation had happened out of nowhere, it would have taken ages to prepare—but fortunately, Ludger had planned for such a possibility.
‘I suppose I owe Bellaruna my thanks.’
Their past discussions about potential cures had finally borne fruit here.
As Ludger continued writing, his pen suddenly froze.
‘Still not enough.’
The formula he had developed with Bellaruna was based on the assumption that Rine’s mana was non-attributed.
A cure made for that wouldn’t work fully on spatial-attribute mana. It might help temporarily, but not completely heal her.
To achieve full recovery, he needed proper ingredients—and more complex refinement processes.
‘Even if I can secure the ingredients from the New Mage Tower, adding those new procedures won’t be easy without Bellaruna here.’
Nor could he recklessly rely on the pharmacological knowledge he’d learned secondhand.
If it were his own body, he wouldn’t hesitate to use poisonous herbs—but Rine was different.
Her condition was like thin ice covered with cracks—so fragile that a single wrong touch could shatter it.
Even the slightest imbalance in the medicine’s strength could destroy her body.
Because of that, Ludger couldn’t apply his own methods directly to her case.
‘Unlike me—who can swallow any poison and stay alive—Rine can’t.’
Time, ingredients, data, samples—he lacked all of them.
As he pondered desperately, his gaze drifted toward the bed.
There lay Rine, sleeping soundly, as if merely resting.
The occasional tremor in her eyelids told him she was still fighting a painful internal battle.
‘Rine.’
How shocked he had been when he first saw her again.
The Rine he remembered was still a child—over ten years younger than the woman lying before him now.
He had only heard of her through Gariel’s letters—news that she was learning magic and doing well.
Lately, even those letters had stopped coming.
And then fate had brought them together again at Seorn—through sheer accident.
He hadn’t planned to become a teacher. Circumstances had simply forced him into it.
And somehow, that twist of fate had led him to cross paths with his past once more.
People often said the future was unpredictable.
Or perhaps... this was the cruel trick of destiny.
Ludger had never given that much thought. If anything, he had deliberately avoided such thoughts.
The trick of destiny?
The very phrase filled him with disgust.
His life belonged to himself.
Past wounds, present pain, future fears.
Past memories, present comfort, future dreams.
None of these should be dictated by fate, gods, or others.
They were things to be forged and won by his own hand.
That was why Ludger didn’t believe in destiny.
Even knowing that gods existed—and that they wielded transcendent power—he refused to bow to them.
Because the one who defines me is no one else but myself.
And the same went for others.
Every person should have the right to choose their own life.
Even if that life meant obedience, as long as it was chosen by one’s own will, it deserved respect.
But being denied that choice entirely—that was something he could never accept.
‘That’s why I’ll save her.’
He had seen too many people robbed of their futures by so-called destiny.
That day’s misery, helplessness, grief, and self-loathing—he would never forget them.
He had lived fiercely ever since, growing stronger through endless struggle.
He had walked a path of thorns soaked in blood, never stopping.
As long as others could shed fewer tears than the blood he’d spilled himself, that was enough.
“I have to find a way.”
Muttering as if to affirm his own resolve, Ludger suddenly recalled a memory.
─Do not fail.
He snapped his head up.
From the depths of his memory, he unraveled an ancient magical formula.
White codes composed of mana floated in the air, drawing intricate equations and structures.
“Andrei Semov.”
Ludger spoke the name quietly.
“Thank you.”
* * *
Gariel couldn’t sit still. His anxiety made him fidget restlessly in his chair.
The operation would begin at dawn—no, technically, at this point, it was already early morning.
No matter how many times he ran simulations in his head, there was no guarantee things would go smoothly.
For someone like Gariel, who had always preferred certainty and safety, the unknown was pure terror.
“Sit still already. You’re fidgeting like a child.”
Unable to stand it any longer, Cravat clicked his tongue and scolded him.
Coming from someone who looked much younger than Gariel, the words felt jarringly out of place—but Gariel wasn’t in the mood to argue.
“Cravat, aren’t you nervous at all?”
“Why would I be? I don’t even have that much to do.”
“That’s easy for you to say! I’m the one who has to go inside that New Mage Tower, and who knows what’s waiting in there!”
“Didn’t you say you were going to stop time? Then you won’t be caught by anyone, right?”
“Well, yes, but still...”
Cravat stared at him for a moment, then said flatly,
“I see. You’re not afraid of the tower itself—you’re afraid of using your power for too long.”
Flinch.
Gariel froze mid-motion.
“I—I have no idea what you’re talking about...”
“Don’t bother hiding it. Not many people enjoy using their own abilities.”
“Does that include you, Cravat?”
“Nope. I use mine because I like it.”
“...What?”
Gariel blinked in disbelief.
“I said I’ve seen plenty of people like you. Never said I was one of them. Judging by that reaction, I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Well...”
“I heard enough to get the gist. Your so-called teacher tricked you into learning that magic, didn’t he?”
“...Something like that.”
“Pouring all your talent into mastering one single spell—that’s how you ended up being able to stop time, huh? Impressive, I guess.”
“Are you jealous?”
“Jealous? Hardly. I’ve seen plenty of idiots dig one well too deep and die in it.”
“...Aren’t you one of those who dug deep into curses yourself?”
“Curses come in many kinds. And besides, I can use other magic too. Unlike you.”
“...”
Gariel groaned quietly, and Cravat suddenly asked,
“So what’s the deal between you and that ‘teacher’? And who’s the girl sleeping over there?”
“That’s...”
“Well, if it’s a past you’d rather not talk about, fine. I’m not that curious.”
Cravat turned away, clearly uninterested, which somehow annoyed Gariel even more.
“...That man and I were bound by misfortune.”
When Gariel began to speak, Cravat turned back toward him.
“From the very start, I hated him. Younger than me, yet acting like he’d already seen the world. Always calm, mature, like some damn adult.”
“Sounds like jealousy.”
“It’s not that simple. Though... maybe a bit. His talent for magic was extraordinary—far beyond mine.”
Gariel let out a short, bitter laugh.
“No, maybe I just envied him for being everything I couldn’t be.”
To someone who had devoted his life to time magic, Ludger—who could freely wield every element and discipline—was dazzling beyond comparison.
“But the real reason lies with Rine.”
“You said you were her master, and he’s her teacher. What happened with that remarkable girl?”
“At first, it wasn’t Rine—it was her mother.”
“Her mother?”
“Yes. A strong, beautiful woman with a heart purer than anyone’s.”
Just recalling her made Gariel’s tone soften with warmth—but beneath it was unmistakable sorrow.
“Someone you loved, then?”
Normally, Gariel would have flushed red and shouted at such a blunt question.
“Yes. I truly loved her.”
Cravat raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“Didn’t expect that.”
“It’s the truth.”
Gariel smiled faintly, recalling Rine’s mother—so much like Rine herself now.
“You probably wouldn’t believe me, but Rine’s mother and I knew each other since childhood.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. When I was studying time magic under my master, there were others who sought to learn it too. She was one of them.”
The two of them had become fast friends as children—though in truth, it was mostly thanks to her open, kind nature.
“It would’ve been strange not to fall for her. But in the end, I became the successor of time magic, and she left to study other fields.”
He had been certain they would meet again someday.
And several years later, they did.
When he met her again, she was holding the hand of a small child—a girl with her mother’s same features and hair color.
“It was easy to tell whose daughter she was.”
Gariel smiled wistfully.
“I understood then. To her, I was just a close friend.”
When he asked about the child’s father, she only smiled and shook her head.
But Gariel didn’t care.
Just seeing her again was enough.
He became like a father to Rine—caring for her, helping raise her, and staying close to her mother.
And when Rine turned six, then seven—
“That’s when I first met him.”
Two people had come to visit.
Though “people” might not have been the right word.
One was a golden-haired girl in a dress, beautiful like a living doll.
The other—a young man just stepping into adulthood: Ludger.
Together, they formed an oddly mismatched pair—strangely harmonious yet not quite fitting.
The most surprising part was that Rine’s mother recognized the golden-haired girl and welcomed her warmly.
As the women talked, Gariel and Ludger were left alone.
Gariel studied him closely.
‘Tch. I don’t like this kid.’
He looked like some noble young gentleman, but his eyes were hollow, lifeless—something about him rubbed Gariel the wrong way.
A man should have passion, drive, fire—not that empty stare.
‘Hey. How old are you?’
So Gariel, acting the senior, tried to start a friendly conversation.
He was willing to be generous, maybe even bond a little.
‘Get lost.’
That was the answer he got.
Creak—
The sound of a door opening pulled Gariel from his memories. Ludger stepped out.
Gariel turned toward him.
“It’s time.”
Time to strike the New Mage Tower.