The canvas upon which pure and passionate scholars painted the future.
That was how the Gray Tower Master rembered the Gray Tower of long ago.
“...”
But.
The Gray Tower that t the Master's eyes today was entirely different.
The pure and passionate scholars were no more.
The Gray Tower had beco a den of opportunists and traitors.
The Gray Tower Master gazed at the puppet before them with cold, lifeless eyes.
“Was this the best you could do?”
The puppet, trembling with sha, replied.
“Yes. This was the best I could achieve. I am sorry for failing to et your expectations, Master.”
“I see. You’ve worked hard all this ti.”
That was all the recognition given to the puppet for its long years of service.
The Gray Tower Master extended a hand toward the puppet.
“...”
The light faded from the puppet’s eyes.
The puppet, which had managed the Gray Tower in its Master's long absence, reverted to being nothing more than an inanimate object.
The Gray Tower Master cast a somber glance at the Tower’s current state.
The mont lingered only briefly.
Without hesitation, the Master turned their back on the Tower.
The Gray Tower had lost its pride and now its Master.
All that remained were opportunists and traitors.
[Location – The Fallen Gray Tower]
***
The Wandering Star
The Gray Tower Master, known as the "Wandering Star," was a creature of legend.
To find anyone who could claim to have seen this being, one would have to seek out those with at least five years of experience at the Tower.
Yes, the Master of the Tower had not shown their face within its halls for a full five years.
Even when they visited briefly five years ago, it was only to et a few select individuals under a veil of secrecy.
So remarked:
"A rchant dealing in cursed properties would show more interest in their investnts than that."
Others questioned:
"Why is soone like that the Master of the Tower?"
To which so would answer:
"Because, despite everything, no greater mage than them has yet appeared."
The Tower Master was more than just the owner of the Tower; they were its symbol.
Their personal achievents sotis overshadowed the accomplishnts of the entire Tower.
The history of the Gray Tower was not a long one.
Compared to other towers founded by great noble families steeped in both magic and history, the Gray Tower seed all the more faded, like the color of its na.
And yet, it was still recognized as a proper mage tower.
For it was the ho base of the Wandering Star, the repository of the great deeds this figure had achieved.
The mages of the Gray Tower spoke of their Master with reverence.
So were awestruck, finding it reasonable to accept the Master’s wandering, restless nature.
And yet, one question always lingered:
“So, who’s actually running the Tower?”
“...”
Remarkably, the Gray Tower faced no issues in this regard.
The Master’s absence had been imdiately compensated by the presence of another.
The Gray Tower Master was not an irresponsible person.
Before leaving the Tower, they had responsibly (?) appointed soone to take their place.
Whenever the Tower required the Master’s official seal, she was always there—
bearing dark circles so deeply ingrained they seed like part of her body, paired with a sardonic smile steeped in fatigue and resignation.
Demia.
She tied back her brittle gray hair, which had turned the texture of dust-soaked water, while indulging in a rare, extravagant fantasy:
"Today, I must take a bath before collapsing unconscious."
But hearing that na spoken right in front of her shattered her brief hope.
“Lisir...”
To Demia, that na was a waking nightmare.
The mages of the Tower spoke in unison, praising Lisir’s talent.
They celebrated his affiliation with the Tower with open arms.
Demia could not.
The command she had received from the Tower Master was clear: "Ensure the survival and revival of the Tower."
And to achieve that, what was most necessary wasn’t talent, but financial stability.
For the past year, Demia had worked tirelessly behind the scenes on an extensive plan to secure funding for the Tower.
And all of it—every last bit—had been rendered aningless by Lisir’s appointnt as an Honorary Mage.
***
The rchant Family rich
The rich family, a rchant clan from the South, had amassed trendous wealth through their trade empire, rising as a new power. Yet, their lack of legitimacy and noble recognition plagued them.
“We’ve got the money,” they thought.
Now, they sought to mingle with the aristocracy and gild their family na. But those sa nobles, who happily accepted their gold with sycophantic praise, would turn around and dismiss them as re upstarts.
“Ah, the great Dolea, truly impressive,” they’d say, only to later scoff, “Well, that’s just Dolea for you.”
The nobles’ two-faced behavior, with its sudden shifts from flattery to disdain, infuriated even the most cunning rchants.
To address this, the rich family turned their attention to the Gray Tower.
Their solution was clear: elevate their eldest son as an Honorary Mage of the Gray Tower, thereby securing the legitimacy they craved.
For the past year, the rich family launched an aggressive campaign of support for the Gray Tower, preparing to solidify their promise of partnership with what could only be described as a “boss gone mad” level of fervor.
This developnt left Demia, the acting head of the Gray Tower, sleepless with anticipation.
If this deal ca through, the Tower would finally have the financial leeway to enjoy luxuries she’d only heard about in legends—such as a vacation.
“Could I really visit a café for the first ti?” she thought, her imagination running wild.
“Eat sothing delicious… buy new clothes… explore makeup options… spend the entire day sleeping in bed... hehehe…”
But then, reality intervened.
“Absolutely not.”
A figurative answer from the heavens.
Just as the agreent seed within reach, a wandering mage nad Lisir appeared, taking the Tower by storm and becoming its idolized figure.
The Masters’ Assembly unanimously recomnded Lisir’s appointnt as an Honorary Mage.
Demia refused.
The Masters’ Assembly unanimously recomnded Lisir’s appointnt as an Honorary Mage.
Demia refused.
The Masters’ Assembly unanimously recomnded Lisir’s appointnt as an Honorary Mage.
The Masters’ Assembly unanimously recomnded Lisir’s appointnt as an Honorary Mage.
The Masters’ Assembly unanimously recomnded—
Demia fainted.
Thus, the position of Honorary Mage at the Gray Tower went to Lisir, the wandering mage, instead of the rich family’s eldest son.
For reference, appointnts to Honorary Mage positions were traditionally limited to once every two years.
The rich family’s response was simple:
“We are disappointed.”
The way the rich family expressed disappointnt was as fiery as the way they showed generosity.
They abruptly withdrew all support for the Tower and leveraged their influence to make their grievances known.
rchant groups that had maintained good relations with the Tower for years suddenly turned their backs.
Demia fainted.
So of the more traditional mages might say:
“Honorary Mage positions are essentially bought, aren’t they?”
To defend themselves, it’s worth noting that most towers had long used such practices to strengthen their political influence.
In fact, the Gray Tower’s prior commitnt to preserving its honor made it an outlier, and this was precisely why the rich family sought its recognition.
In that sense, this could be considered a boon.
The Gray Tower’s prestige would rise further due to this event.
Oh, and there was one more piece of good news.
Thanks to Lisir’s efforts, the Tower successfully excised the rot known as Gerhen.
This brought them one step closer to upholding their value of integrity.
The only minor issue? Gerhen’s family, the Dreider, had been one of the Tower’s key sponsors.
Thus, the Tower, while pursuing integrity and honor, found itself repeatedly plunging into financial crises.
It was a cruel irony:
The closer they ca to honor, the poorer they beca. The further they drifted from honor, the wealthier they were.
Caught in this dilemma of “becoming an honorable beggar or a dishonorable wealthy man,” Demia had inadvertently chosen the forr and now had to devise a solution.
Regrettably, she had none at the mont.
This was how Demia ca to resent Lisir.
“Lisir. Isn’t he our Honorary Mage? And yet, we’ve assigned him to trivial tasks like diating rchant disputes.”
It was under these circumstances that Master Mortier, one of Lisir’s most ardent supporters, stord into Demia’s office to voice his dissatisfaction.
“Master Mortier, do you have any idea how many resources were consud for this Honorary Mage selection and appointnt?” Demia replied in a fatigued yet authoritative tone.
“That’s…!”
How unfair to bring up such practical concerns! Mortier averted his gaze.
“Let ask you sothing, Master Mortier. What exactly has our Gray Tower gained from appointing this Honorary Mage?”
“We have gained an individual of unparalleled potential and value.”
“Indeed, we’ve obtained a valuable talent at a steep cost. Consider this assignnt a process to verify that talent.”
“But you know full well about Karl of the Red Crate! His past as a rcenary who committed serious cris before laundering his identity! Given his disposition, it’s unlikely Lisir will receive any respect. A young person holding such an honorary position is always subject to varied interpretations.”
“And knowing that, why would you…!”
Demia gave Mortier a aningful look.
“Like you, I have high hopes for him.”
“...”
Her words didn’t match her dry expression.
In truth, Demia had little expectation of Lisir.
Currently, the northern underworld faction known as the Leather Chain was operating beyond the control of the city’s nobility.
As the nobility’s primary source of funds, they had severed all external communication and were acting independently.
Karl was undoubtedly following orders from above.
Under such circumstances, would he really hand over goods or rights just because a rchant ca demanding them?
It was a slim hope.
Even Folda, once on-site, would understand the futility of their position.
Thus, Demia thought:
Lisir’s dispatch this ti.
If it managed to prevent complaints from Folda, that would suffice.
***
For a rchant, Information Is Life
To a rchant, information is no less vital than life itself.
The worst outco of lacking information might rely be the loss of so money. But for rchants, whose lifeline is tied to their pockets, that loss is no small thing.
On the flip side, financial gain can bring even a dying rchant back to life.
The tale of an ailing guild master, bedridden from chronic illness and old age, who sprang to his feet with a triumphant shout of “Finally!” upon hearing the word opportunity uttered outside his door, is legendary among rchants.
Thus, Folda made a habit of keeping up with most of the trends and affairs of Bondales, including its undercurrents.
It was a habit that had served him well during his rise from the bottom rungs to his current position as a mid-tier rchant guild leader.
So said of Folda:
“He knows everything.”
Folda was well aware that the underworld factions ruling Bondales’ backstreets were not rely bands of common criminals but rather a mix of rcenaries and adventurers who had tasted the allure of dirty money.
He also knew that one such faction, the Leather Chain, was acting suspiciously of late.
Among all the rchants in Bondales, Folda was the first to move.
He began withdrawing entirely from all business ventures tied to the northern district.
Folda’s information network was unparalleled among rchants in the city.
He knew this about himself, and yet, at this mont, he found himself utterly confounded.
“I deeply apologize, Sir Lisir! I will resolve the issue you ntioned imdiately!”
“Haha, thank you. By the way, do you know who I am?”
“How could I not know, sir? Of course, I know!”
“Haha. And why would that be so obvious?”
Lisir.
How could I have been so unaware of such a prominent figure?
The man bowing his head to Lisir was Karl.
He was the manager of the Red Crate, a trusted figure within the Leather Chain, and soone who catered to clients both in the shadows and in the light of Bondales.
But who, in this city, could make Karl not just cautious but utterly subservient?
“Here it is! Folda’s belongings!”
“Oh my, thank you for resolving this so swiftly.”
“It’s an honor to hear such praise from you, Sir Lisir! If you ever need my help, please don’t hesitate to call on !”
Who else could have resolved a conflict with the Leather Chain so smoothly?
Even the city’s aristocrats, the Tower’s masters, and senior adventurers found such tasks imnsely difficult.
“Mr. Folda, is this safe yours?”
“Eh? Oh, yes! Yes, it is! Thank you so much!”
Folda recovered an asset he hadn’t even dared to hope for.
“Lisir.”
Folda, who was always among the first to grasp the significance of things in the city, etched that na into his mind more firmly than anyone else.
***
“What’s all this commotion?”
The unexpected sight of a procession of carriages threw the Gray Tower into chaos.
Demia turned to her assistant, demanding an explanation.
“The guild leaders of Bondales are urgently requesting an audience…!”
The guild leaders, who usually prioritized currying favor with the nobles and left the Tower at the bottom of their list?
Suddenly?
The dark circles under Demia’s eyes trembled faintly.
At this very mont, a rumor about an Honorary Mage was spreading rapidly among the rchants.
They spoke of soone capable of resolving problems so neatly that even the city’s nobles couldn’t manage to interfere.
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