The desert was immensely vast and sprawling, reaching as far as the eye could see. There was nothing but dense sand regardless of what direction one looked in, and the murderously hot sun pierced down with its gaze from above.
This particular region was known for being one of the harshest deserts within the territory of Nahama. There were no nearby villages or oases. It was, as a result, a place untouched by tourists.
To be precise, it was created to be like this on purpose. If nature did not provide an oasis, one could craft one, but there were compelling reasons for not doing so.
A desert devoid of life was quite a bare sight. However, it was appealing to black wizards.
In these barren depths, they could conduct their clandestine deeds without the risk of rumors or surveillance. Moreover, in the desert, the mysterious disappearance of a few souls wouldn't raise eyebrows. As such, this location was a prime land for the activities of black wizards.
"I can’t believe I’m saying this, but the black wizards of Aroth were refined and sane in comparison,” muttered Melkith El-Hayah as she brushed the sand off her robes. "Isn’t that right? There were occasional disappearances and deaths in Aroth, but the Black Tower itself was always quite innocent when it came to such matters, wasn't it?" she continued.
Wizards from all corners of the continent gathered in the magical kingdom of Aroth. While magical experimentation on humans was heresy and forbidden, most wizards would readily break taboos when they were consumed by their curiosity.
This disposition inevitably cast a shadow over Aroth. Pursuing forbidden knowledge wasn't just limited to black wizards. While some wizards only tampered with corpses or vagrants, the more depraved would even harm innocent citizens or tourists.
However, those affiliated with the Wizard Towers couldn't cross such lines due to the strict oversight imposed on them by the towers.
"But here, in this desert, there's nothing to regulate the wizards. It's not just the black wizards that are the problem. In the last few months, about a third of those I've buried in the sands were just ordinary wizards,” said Melkith.
Melkith had heard tales of Nahama's black wizard dungeons. These dungeons acted as miniature wizard towers, hosting a faction of wizards that rejected even guild affiliations. Yet, she had never imagined the situation to be this dire.
Perhaps it was an inevitable issue.
Wizards, especially the higher-ranked ones, were engrossed in their magic. These black wizards were more like wizards than anyone else, in essence. And such figures were more concerned with the advancement of their magic and their future studies than anything else. They couldn’t care less about how wizards in other nations lived their lives.
"Anyway, speaking of which, I’m wandering so far from my home and.… Ah, would you know where I’m from? No, of course, you wouldn’t! I never told you. Ta-da! I hail from the Allos Kingdom up north. It's one of those tiny nations within the Anti-Demon Alliance. I’m pretty sure there’s no one as renowned and skilled as me throughout the history of the Allos Kingdom.”
Melkith chattered on tirelessly.
"Anyway, here I am, the great Melkith El-Hayah, wandering this far-flung desert all alone, far, far away from home. I’m facing the scorching heat by day and freezing cold by night, confronting wicked wizards with their vile deeds... and why aren’t you saying anything?"
[I am listening, even if I do not respond.] The one that responded was a wind spirit that had been floating around Melkith.
Eugene Lionheart was still lingering in Lehainjar with Molon. He was getting reports from Melkith in this matter through the wind spirit.
"Really? You’re not lying, are you? Eugene, I feel the weight of loneliness lately. Perhaps I'm learning the essence of solitude in this vast desert..." continued Melkith.
[Don’t say something so nasty,] came the response.
"Nasty!? Is it so off-putting to you that I confess my loneliness?" said Melkith.
[What loneliness are you talking about? You do just fine having lots of fun by yourself, Lady Melkith. Even when you’re alone, you have lots of people to talk to,] explained Eugene.
"What nonsense is that? I have many people to talk with even when I’m alone?” retorted Melkith.
[You have the spirits, do you not?] challenged Eugene.
"Hey! Do you think spirits are humans? Spirits are spirits,” Melkith retorted.
[That statement feels… somewhat prejudiced against spirits. Are you suggesting that spirits aren’t worthy conversation partners, Lady Melkith? Such a belief might cause friction with Tempest.…] Eugene commented.
"No-no-no-no! That's not what I meant! In my view, spirits are superior, more evolved entities than mere humans! It's beyond m-m-me to initiate a conversation with them. I have to wait for the spirits to reach out first!" Melkith attempted to rectify her words in haste.
"So, please let Tempest know how I feel, will you? It’s really bizarre the more I think about it… I’m sure there must be a communication link between Tempest and me, yet no matter how often I call, there's no response from Tempest’s end. Do you think our connection’s been severed?" questioned Melkith, confused.
[Well…. No, that's not the case. Tempest just prefers... um… reserved? Silent? Tempest would prefer a taciturn companion,] responded Eugene.
"That would be me,” Melkith immediately answered.
[Lady Melkith, Tempest says it’s exhausting to answer when you call without rest,] Eugene explained.
"Hmm... wouldn't regular dialogues enhance our rapport?" Melkith asked.
[Tempest believes you should first focus on nurturing your aptitude as a spirit companion,] Eugene answered.
"Why does Tempest communicate only with you despite being able to converse with me?" Melkith inquired.
[Tempest says he is worried that direct communication might overwhelm you, Lady Melkith. Collapsing from overload in this desert would be disastrous,] responded Eugene.
"Oh, so he’s worried about me!" Melkith shouted in glee while hopping around in excitement. "Well, if that's the case, so be it. You're still with Sir Molon, aren't you?"
[Once this report is concluded, I'll return to duel with Sir Molon,] answered Eugene.
"Are you trying to tell me to wrap this up quickly? How very audacious, considering I'm enduring this wretched desert at someone's behest,” Melkith grumbled.
[It was a bargain, remember?] Eugene’s retort was as sharp as a blade, and it left Melkith speechless for a moment. Yet, this audacious spirit wizard did not hesitate to pucker her lips in retort.
"Yes~. Right~. A bargain~. How splendid! I'm truly envious~,” Melkith drawled, making her sarcasm pretty obvious.
[Do you have no sense of decorum at all?] Eugene asked.
"Nope~. None at all! Worrying about such things is just too tiring~," responded Melkith.
[Well….] Eugene heaved a heavy sigh.
After a short moment, the wind spirit underwent a sudden transformation. Melkith stared at it with alarm.
While the wind spirit retained its fledgling appearance, the aura swirling around it, borne from the winds, was overwhelmingly majestic.
[…I implore you,] the spirit of the wind issued forth in a stern voice.
“Kyaaaaah!” Melkith let out a joyous exclamation and leaped with elation on the spot.
That voice! It was the voice of Tempest, the King of the Wind Spirits. It was a voice she hadn’t heard for months despite calling out to him daily. Hearing his encouragement caused any and all grievances Melkith harbored to vanish instantly.
“If Tempest requests it, who am I to deny!” Melkith declared happily.
She heard no further response. Tempest, having heeded Eugene’s request and encouraging Melkith despite not wanting to, shut out the world once again. Eugene went to duel with Molon, as he did every day, and Kristina and Anise followed the two of them to patch them up from any injuries.
And Sienna? She was busy with her days in Aroth.
Melkith, on the other hand, roamed the desert.
By day, it scorched, and by night it chilled. The desert was a wretched place where all could only see endless sand.
Yet Melkith felt no discomfort. To an archwizard, the only environmental hindrance was the concentration of mana. Unless one was in an extremely special environment, mana existed everywhere. An Archwizard could conjure water even in a land void of a single droplet.
Furthermore, Melkith wasn’t just any Archwizard but also a master of spirit magic. Having contracted with the Earth Spirit King, sinking sands posed her no threat. Her only concern would be sustenance... but Melkith El-Hayah was a marvel. She could eat crustaceans that dwelled beneath the sands without a change in expression. This was a testament to her impressive appetite and ability to adapt to her environment.
[This way,] a voice called out.
“How many are there?” asked Melkith.
[Just over fifty,] came the reply.
“The Dungeon Master?” Melkith inquired.
[By my estimate, the Seventh Circle. The average for their wizards is the Fifth Circle,] the voice answered.
“Quite the high-level dungeon. A black wizard of the Seventh Circle…. Considering their latent skills and power, it should be safe to say that they’d nearly match an Archwizard,” Melkith said thoughtfully.
[Burials?] It was Yhanos, the Earth Spirit King, who inquired. Although she had rambled on to Eugene about solitude in the desert, she had never truly been lonely on her quest. Spirits were her friends and conversation partners.
“If it were just mid-level wizards, maybe. But with an almost-Archwizard among them, it won’t be possible to easily bury them. They'll likely burst out and cause a ruckus,” said Melkith with a click of her tongue.
A dungeon of wizards would be armed with formidable defenses against external attacks. Throw in an Archwizard, and they could resist even Yhanos's burial attacks.
Even if no one traversed this desert, launching spells above ground would draw too much attention. It was quite likely that the Sultan had received reports of her actions considering what she had been up to, but there had been no response until now. The famed assassins of Nahama had not shown up to assassinate her, nor had she faced any attacks from the sandmancers of Nahama either.
Still, it was prudent to tread carefully. Somewhat surprisingly, Melkith was well aware of this fact.
[There are magic traps just up ahead,] warned Yhanos.
“I noticed,” Melkith responded. She had successfully discerned them even before Yhanos’ warning.
The moment she set foot in the domain, the desert would transform into a treacherous quicksand and threaten to drag Melkith down to the dungeon below. But even knowing this, Melkith did not falter in her steps. Her destination was the subterranean dungeon, and her mission was to eradicate the black wizards within or those who sought to become such wizards.
Initially, she pondered if she really needed to kill them. Would it not suffice to merely dismantle the dungeons instead?
But Melkith did not hesitate to bury all the black wizards upon witnessing the actual state of the dungeons. Of all the dungeons she had decimated, which numbered over ten, only three managed to escape complete annihilation. The wizards of the remaining dungeons had proven to be deserving of their fate.
"I do understand," Melkith muttered as she pulled her robe's hood over her head, "Research can be captivating, even exciting. But shouldn’t they adhere to basic principles when performing experiments on other humans? And there are myriad types of magical experiments involving humans. Why do all the wizards of the desert dungeons shoot that way?"
[Contractor,] Levin, the Spirit King of Lightning, spoke, [Have you ever wished to conduct an experiment or research involving humans?]
"I have," Melkith replied without hesitation, "A body that doesn't excrete regardless of what one eats.”
[?] Levin wasn’t sure what to make of that.
"A body that doesn't get fat regardless of what one eats," Melkith continued passionately.
[Contractor, what are you—] Levin started.
Only to be interrupted by Melkith as she further explained, “How convenient is that? Not just wizards, either. What if everyone gets to have such bodies? Wouldn’t that basically be eutopia? Now, that’s what I would call proper research to furnish the world to be a better place.”
[Well…. Have you never pondered about… research to become immortal or something similar?] asked Levin cautiously.
"Immortality? Nah," Melkith scoffed, "Death is a part of nature's cycle. One should go when their time comes, and the others need to let them go.”
As she spoke, she began weaving various spells. She was preparing to storm the dungeon unarmored. She knew she didn’t worry about her body exploding since she assumed the sands were a trap designed to capture test subjects. However… one could never be too careful.
Continuing her soliloquy as she cast her shields, she opined, "If everyone became immortal, the world would be overwhelmed with humans, with no space left to even walk. Besides, it's not always better to live longer. Sometimes, being able to embrace death when one desires is a blessing…."
"I concur,” came a sudden response.
"Kyaaaah!" The voice caused Melkith to jump and reflexively shoot out a spell.
Fwoosh!
Ifrit’s Flames engulfed the area behind her.
"Startling you was my fault, though unintentional. But wasn't that retaliation a bit excessive? Attacking with the Spirit King of Fire, no less. Most would have been reduced to ashes after being struck by a fire like that." A figure could be seen as their voice floated over.
"W-w-what’s going on!?" Melkith shouted.
"Is it wise to cause such a ruckus in this situation?" asked the figure.
"How could I not?!" Melkith retorted.
She was so startled that every hair of hers was standing on end. Melkith eyed the man with a wary gaze as she stepped back rapidly.
It was Balzac Ludbeth, the Black Tower Master.
A year ago, Balzac had departed first after the tribal war in the vast Samar Forest. However, he vanished without ever reaching Aroth. Since it wasn’t any ordinary wizard but a tower master who had suddenly disappeared, both Aroth and the Wizard’s Guild employed various methods to track him down. However, all efforts proved fruitless.
Only rumors swirled about the disappearance of Balzac. Some whispered that the Wise Sienna of Aroth had slain the Black Tower Lord. Others claimed he was obliterated in the power struggle within Helmuth.
The truth, though, was a mystery to all. Melkith didn’t particularly concern herself with this matter either.
Although Balzac Ludbeth was a fellow tower master, he wasn’t exactly a close friend. They had rarely been involved directly with each other, and while they had known each other for decades, their first joint endeavor had been the war in the Samar Forest.
Melkith believed he wouldn’t have met some trivial end.
After all, the Black Tower Master was a suspicious figure in both name and appearance. It was hard to imagine such an individual perishing unceremoniously.
And had he not stated that his ambition as a wizard was to become a legend?
His ambition had been to become the greatest wizard in the world and to etch his name in the annals of magical history for centuries, just like the Wise Sienna. No wizard with the stature and prowess of Balzac Ludbeth, who seriously dreamt of becoming a legend, would die a meaningless death.
"...Why are you here?" Melkith finally asked.
“I might ask the same, White Tower Master. Why are you here?” Balzac replied while staring at Melkith with a calm expression. Then, with a slight smirk, Balzac shook his head. “I can guess without hearing it directly from you. It must be because of Sir Eugene’s request.”
“…..” Melkith didn’t respond.
“I don’t know exactly what kind of deal took place between you two, but… White Tower Master, I can’t think of any reason you'd personally challenge the dungeons of the black wizards or wage war on the entire realm of Nahama. But I couldn’t say the same for Sir Eugene,” deduced Balzac.
“Not at all. Eugene has nothing to do with this. I’m doing this all on my own,” responded Melkith.
“Were you so deeply indebted to Sir Eugene that you'd take the responsibility?” questioned Balzac.
“It's presumptuous and disrespectful to make assumptions, Black Tower Master. Rather than making baseless claims, why don’t you answer my question? What are you doing here?” Melkith asked once more.
“What am I doing? To answer that specifically would be challenging… but, recently, I’ve been assisting you,” answered Balzac.
“...What?” Melkith was dumbfounded at the unexpected reply.
“White Tower Master, I’ve discreetly dealt with the bodies you’ve left behind, cleaned up the things you didn't manage to in the dungeons, silenced the black wizards you spared, as well as the hostages you released back to the city. I’ve even dealt with the assassins sent to capture you,” he continued.
“What?” Melkith was genuinely shocked.
“In the past few months alone, you’ve cleared over ten dungeons. Did you really think the Sultan wouldn’t react?” asked Balzac.
“That’s not what I’m asking,” retorted Melkith.
A spark of anger flashed in Melkith's eyes. An Archwizard was an apex existence who always searched for something greater. Her overwhelming aura weighed down on Balzac.
“The black wizards I spared, the hostages I returned to the city... you interfered?” she asked.
Melkith was enraged by this revelation. Those she had deemed unnecessary to kill, those she had spared, and the hostages lucky enough to escape with their lives. If Balzac had acted against them of his own accord — Melkith wouldn't restrain her wrath.
"Do I appear so wicked to you?" Balzac wore a look of genuine dismay as he questioned.
"You said you silenced them,” responded Melkith.
"I merely silenced their tongues, White Tower Master. I did not harm them as you suspect,” answered Balzac.
"Is that so?" Melkith said. She swiftly calmed herself moments before letting her anger erupt. Without another word, she turned around and began heading towards the dungeon entrance that resembled a treacherous antlion pit.
Balzac paused for a moment as he watched Melkith move away. Then, he followed her. "You won't inquire further?" he asked.
"Given your nature, even if I asked, you wouldn't answer. Why would I bother then?" said Melkith.
"Hmm." Balzac’s reply was noncommittal.
"I was concerned since I screamed and used my magic, but.… Hmm, seems like you didn’t surprise me without thinking,” commented Melkith.
Balzac's magic was intertwined with the trap. Thanks to that, the black wizards of the dungeon failed to notice Melkith above them.
"But here's my question. All this while, you've been handling matters behind the scenes. Why make an appearance now? Isn't it a tad too late for cautionary advice?" asked Melkith.
"I meant to advise you against meddling with this dungeon,” answered Balzac.
"Why?" Melkith asked.
"The dungeon master here is a black wizard named Arask. Skill and character aside... the demon he's contracted with is quite violent,” responded Balzac.
"Who is it?" asked Melkith.
"Harpeuron. Holding the title of count and ranked fifty-seventh in Helmuth. He's a greedy demon. White Tower Master, if you were to attack and kill the dungeon master — Harpeuron would be enraged."
"All the better,” Melkith grinned broadly as she responded. "What I need is precisely such a fierce reaction."
"You mean what Sir Eugene desires," said Balzac after a pause.
"Huh? No, what I need. Why do you keep mentioning Eugene, who isn’t even here? You’re so strange,” said Melkith while dismissively waving her hand.
Suddenly, the antlion trap beneath them activated. The sand began swirling towards its center. Melkith allowed himself to be pulled in by the sand as she turned to look back at Balzac.
"So, what will you do?" she asked.
"I'd rather not confront them directly,” he answered.
"Will you wait here then?" Melkith challenged.
With a deep sigh, Balzac stepped into the antlion pit. Melkith smirked and raised her hands high as if she had been expecting this response.
“Let’s go!” she said.
With arms still raised, Melkith plunged beneath the desert sands.