The massive hallways of the central tower had lost their usual calmness from the very first hours of the morning.
Mages who typically passed each other with minds absorbed in complex formulas and endless research were now walking more slowly, their gazes constantly shifting among those around them.
Even the heavy air of the tower seemed denser, as if thickened by the whispers flowing in every corner.
"He’s the one who fully comprehended the main tablet?"
"Yeah, that same guy... Daniel Noir."
"Impossible... I still can’t believe it."
"What’s even more impossible is that Professor Ryndor accepted defeat in the scholarly debate."
"Did you hear? The Supreme Council didn’t even hold a vote and directly issued the permit for the Trial of a Thousand Spells."
"Are you sure? That trial is meant for those who’ve been in the tower for years."
"That’s exactly why everyone’s shocked."
As these whispers spread from floor to floor, more details were added. Some with excitement, some with doubt, and others with a fear they themselves wouldn’t admit to.
What had happened was a massive shock for all of them. It could be said that two of the tower’s ancient traditions had been broken one after another because of one person.
The first tradition was not accepting membership requests from Otherworldly beings. A very strict tradition, broken for the first time.
And the second tradition of the tower, concerning the Trial of a Thousand Spells, was that everyone had to wait for its periodic time to participate.
But the tower’s leaders had agreed to let one person enter out of turn.
All because he had managed to defeat the tower’s greatest professors in a debate!
"They say the greatest genius of the last thousand years has been found."
"No... this is all a game by the tower leader."
"Why would he put on such a show?"
"Maybe he wants to change the balance of power."
"But if he actually breaks Lioran’s record... what then?"
A few moments of silence passed among the crowd.
One of the elderly researchers quietly adjusted his glasses and said in a hushed voice:
"Then... the tower’s history will be rewritten."
No one answered him.
Because for the first time, everyone had realized that the matter was no longer just about a new genius.
It was about the future of the magic tower.
In the highest part of the central tower, where only Supreme Council members were allowed entry, a completely different atmosphere prevailed.
A circular room with a high ceiling, walls covered in thousands of ancient runes, and windows overlooking the entire magical city. This time, it hosted a secret meeting.
The tower leader sat at the end of the table.
His calm expression hadn’t changed, but his deep gaze showed that even he was weighing a future that might no longer be predictable.
One of the Supreme Council members broke the silence.
"I want to admit something..."
All eyes turned to him.
The old man sighed.
"Today, for the first time in a few hundred years, I questioned several of my own theories again."
No one spoke, but everyone understood the meaning of those words.
Another member said with a deep frown:
"And that’s exactly what’s dangerous."
Several people turned their gaze toward him.
"He didn’t just answer the questions."
"He made the professors doubt their own knowledge."
"If this continues, the tower’s scientific authority will collapse."
One of the senior professors who had remained silent until then said quietly:
"But... isn’t that the purpose of science?"
The council member immediately replied:
"Not when it causes chaos."
The professor smiled faintly.
"Or maybe what we call order... is just habit."
The debate flared up again. One member spoke of the danger of change, another of the necessity of progress.
One believed Daniel was too dangerous.
Another said the danger of truth was no reason to abandon it.
The tower leader had listened the entire time without once intervening.
He didn’t know how to react to this scene. That boy, in just a day or two, had managed to split the Supreme Council into two different factions.
One side that accepted and admired him, and another that saw him as dangerous.
And the interesting part was that no member anymore called the boy untalented in other aspects or tried to downplay his achievements.
Rather, they tried to suppress him by portraying him as dangerous.
A brief silence fell among them. The tower leader quietly placed his staff on the ground. The sound of wood striking stone filled the entire room.
"If we’re afraid of truth..."
Everyone fell silent.
The tower leader’s gaze swept across the members.
"Then we shouldn’t have built the magic tower in the first place."
No one said anything else. Not because everyone agreed, but because no one could find an argument against that sentence.
A little later, when the meeting ended, the council members left the hall one by one.
In a hallway where sunlight from tall windows fell on the marble floor, one of the senior professors quietly approached Lioran.
Lioran, with his usual calmness, was looking at the floating gardens around the tower.
The professor briefly summarized everything that had happened in the Supreme Council for him, and throughout it, the boy’s expression never changed.
In the end, the professor paused for a moment.
"I have a question."
Lioran didn’t take his gaze off the view.
"Go ahead."
"Do you think your record will be broken?" This was a question that professor had never imagined would cross his mind.
But now they were facing a genius who might be able to do it.
A few seconds of silence passed.
Then Lioran, without the slightest change in his expression, smiled faintly.
"I hope so."
"...What?" The professor froze.
Lioran looked at the horizon.
"If no one surpasses me..." The gentle wind moved his long hair.
"It means the tower is standing still."
The professor stared at him for a moment.
This answer was neither the answer of a politician, nor of a man afraid of losing his position.
Rather, it was the answer of someone who truly placed progress above his pride.
But was that really the case?
At the same time, in the luxurious guest room, the shadows on the walls slowly came to life.
Protective layers activated one after another, closing all surveillance paths.
From the darkness, several figures emerged quietly. The Fallen.
"Master." One of them knelt.
"Report." Daniel said quietly.
"No new evidence has been found."
A few moments of silence passed.
"But... as you requested, we implanted the thoughts you wanted into a large number of low-level students and a few low-level professors."
Daniel raised his gaze and smiled. This was one of his plans: implanting certain thoughts. Of course, it wasn’t easy, and to do it, he had to teach one of his skills to his Fallen.
"Result?" He then asked.
"After the debate, several professors and researchers started asking questions about Aurelia’s case again."
"That’s enough." A very faint smile settled on Daniel’s lips.
"Master... does that mean you still don’t intend to accuse Lioran?"
"No. That was never my goal from the start." Daniel nodded quietly.
Everyone listened carefully.
"As long as people are sure they know the truth, they never search for it."
He continued quietly.
"I just broke their certainty. From now on... they’ll ask questions themselves."
"And when the questions begin... the truth is always easier to find."
No one said anything. They all just lowered their heads, because they knew this was only the beginning of Daniel’s plan.
After the Fallen left, the room fell into silence again.
Daniel organized his desk.
Then he arranged all the scrolls and books he had collected from the tower’s library over the past day in front of himself.
He began to write. Not notes, not summaries, but a complete reconstruction of every spell he had seen.
He broke each spell down to its smallest components.
Runes, mana circuits, energy nodes, the relationship of laws. He examined each part separately, then rebuilt it from scratch.
Sometimes he removed a rune, sometimes changed the mana flow path, sometimes merged two structures.
And each time, the result became simpler, more complete, more logical.
He wasn’t memorizing anything. He was reverse-engineering magic.
For Daniel, every spell was just an answer someone had found years ago. And every answer had to be proven again from the beginning.
Night slowly fell.
Moonlight streamed through the window onto the scattered papers.
Daniel put down his pen and stared at a page with only a few sentences written on it.
Bloodline.
Race.
Two systems, two paths, two different definitions. He looked at them for a few moments.
Then he whispered quietly:
"No..."
"They share a common mistake."
He began to write again.
All the spells he had examined today shared one characteristic.
They all assumed nature was separate from energy. As if existence was something independent of the force within it.
But if that assumption was wrong from the start... if nature and energy were two sides of one truth... then perhaps merging bloodline and race wasn’t impossible at all.
He wrote a few more formulas.
He crossed one out, set aside another, and finally, only one sentence remained.
Daniel stared at it for a few seconds.
"I’m just missing one more principle..." He then whispered quietly.
Dawn slowly brightened the sky when a knock came at the door.
Daniel closed his book unhurriedly.
"Come in."
The door opened.
Varcas entered. Unlike always, there was no smile on his face. His expression was completely serious.
He stepped forward a few paces and then said directly:
"Get ready. The Trial of a Thousand Spells... will be held in one hour."