Within his hazy consciousness, Jero recalled his childhood. Back then, he had once asked his master a curious question.
"Why does our magic tower hide its na and identity?"
Even while living in secrecy and passing down their teachings through a single successor, they used the fabricated na "Dawn Tower."
His master, twisting his beard, replied with a casual shrug.
"Who knows? We’ve just been doing it this way for ages."
"But aren’t we a magic tower? Shouldn’t there at least be proper records?"
"I don’t know either. It’s just been passed down like this. However…."
"However?"
"The founder of the tower apparently made so kind of mistake during a great war long ago. Or maybe it was an accident? I don’t really rember. Anyway, sothing happened."
"What kind of mistake? What kind of accident?"
"I don’t know that either. It’s just what I’ve heard."
"Master, do you actually know anything at all?"
Smack!
"Ow!"
After flicking Jero on the forehead, his master clicked his tongue and continued speaking.
"Hmph, since we’re on the topic, I might as well tell you a fun story. You’re about the right age to know, anyway."
"Yes, please!"
"Alright then. A long ti ago, there was a great war. Terrifying monsters appeared in this world."
The story his master told was, in many ways, a familiar legend.
Long ago, darkness engulfed the world, and a hero rose to fight against it.
As expected, the tale ended with the hero triumphing over the darkness. On the surface, it sounded like the countless fairy tales found in storybooks.
But there was one unique detail—this particular story involved their magic tower.
"The founder of our tower was one of the hero’s companions."
"Wow!"
Proudly recounting the story, Jero’s master bead while the young Jero listened in awe.
Apparently, driving out the darkness had been no easy feat. It required imnse sacrifices, and even after the darkness was expelled, the founder of the magic tower believed the fight was not truly over.
"The one leading the darkness was called the 'Adversary of the Goddess.' The founder believed this adversary would return soday."
"How did he know that? I thought they drove it out."
"Who knows? The story says the founder could see the future."
"The future?"
"Yes. Well… sothing like that."
His master tilted his head, visibly unsure. Over ti, details of the story had likely beco distorted, making it hard to discern what was true.
Still, it was not his place to change the tale, so he decided to relay it as it had been passed down.
"To be honest, they say the founder of the tower was a bit eccentric. He claid to have visions of the future, or that soone from the future had possessed him. He even said that results could alter their causes."
"That doesn’t make any sense! Results need causes to exist. How can the future change the past? Doesn’t the past need to happen first for the future to even exist?"
"Ahem, precisely why he’s called eccentric. Besides, this is an old story. It might not be entirely accurate—legends tend to get embellished."
"That makes sense. It’s such an ancient tale, after all."
"Indeed. And as you know, magicians have a high probability of… well, never mind. Anyway, perhaps because of his unease, the founder devoted his life to researching a new type of magic."
"What kind of magic?"
With a sly grin, his master answered,
"A spell designed specifically to combat the Adversary, should they ever return. They say the founder spent his entire life perfecting it. This spell beca the foundation of our tower, passed down in secret from master to apprentice."
"Wow! That must be an incredible spell. What’s it called?"
"It doesn’t have a na."
"What?"
"There’s no official na for it. It’s simply referred to as the tower’s ultimate spell. Though I did give it a na myself out of boredom."
"What na?"
"I’ll tell you later."
"Ugh, why not now? It’s just a na!"
Amused by Jero’s reaction, his master chuckled before continuing.
"Judging by the formula, it truly is an insanely powerful spell. I’ve never used it myself, though."
To young Jero, it all sounded incredibly cool. He couldn’t wait to learn the spell soday.
When Jero pestered his master to teach it to him imdiately, his master grew serious.
"Of course, you’ll learn it once you’ve advanced further in your studies. But this spell is extrely dangerous. It should only be used if the Adversary returns. That is the purpose of our tower and our mission."
"What if the Adversary never shows up?"
"Then you’ll pass it on to your apprentice and spend your life lounging around like ."
"I hope they never appear, then."
"Hahaha! It’s just a legend, after all. If the world falls into chaos, we simply lend a hand and help out where we can."
Helping those in need was another duty of the tower. Jero’s master himself had traveled through nurous warzones in his youth, offering assistance to the downtrodden.
In this way, they upheld a quiet sense of justice while living in the shadows.
Thus, choosing an apprentice was a process taken very seriously. Talent alone wasn’t enough; character mattered just as much.
"In any case, should the world descend into chaos and the Adversary truly return… that’s when we fulfill our duty by facing them. Whether the legend is true or not, you mustn’t forget this."
"Hmm… but I don’t want to fight…."
"Even if you don’t want to, you’ll have to if the Adversary appears. Just use the ultimate spell when the ti cos. They say it will lead to the true light…."
"I don’t understand."
"Neither do I. At any rate, when that day cos, we’ll be able to reveal our true na to the world."
Jero nodded. While the story seed ssy and full of uncertainties—even his master admitted to not knowing everything—the existence of the spell made it feel at least sowhat credible.
Suddenly curious, Jero had asked another question.
"How strong is this ultimate spell?"
His master smirked before giving an imdiate reply.
"In the mont it is cast… there will be no being stronger than you in this world."
It was a spell of such overwhelming power. This was why his master had repeatedly warned him to never use it before reaching the 9th circle.
Even then, it was a spell that required accepting the likelihood of death.
Only against the Adversary was it ever to be used. This point had been emphasized ti and ti again.
Reaching the 9th circle was no small feat. Thus, Jero had pouted as he asked,
"What if the Adversary shows up before I reach the 9th circle?"
After a mont’s thought, his master’s face hardened as he replied,
"If that happens… you must use it, even if it ans your life."
"Use it? Really?"
"Yes. If you don’t, humanity may face extinction."
***
Within the chaos of his wavering mind, Jero thought of his master.
The ultimate spell created to confront the Adversary.
A spell that should never have been used unless the Adversary had truly appeared.
Initially, Jero had considered whether Gatros, the leader of the Salvation Church, might be the Adversary.
His godlike appearance lent credibility to the idea.
But soon, Jero dismissed the thought.
Gatros was undeniably powerful, but he lacked the overwhelming presence described in the legends of the Adversary.
And yet, Jero cast the ultimate spell.
"I’m sorry, Master."
Closing his eyes tightly, a single tear slid down Jero’s cheek.
He could not stand by and watch the countless lives before him perish. Moreover, he believed in his friends.
"Ghislain, Julien."
Besides those two, the Allied Forces boasted nurous other superhumans.
Even if the Adversary were to appear, they could defeat him together. Jero trusted in that.
And so, he resolved.
He would save the people here.
He would end this war.
And he would die in the process.
Flash!
As Jero opened his eyes again, the last light within them began to shine.
A massive teor of light erged, illuminating the battlefield as it spread its brilliance.
Dawn, the faint light of a rising day.
The mbers of his tower, always awaiting the right mont, had called themselves by this hopeful na.
And now, that light, emanating from Jero, transford into a radiant, dazzling brilliance.
The spell’s na, tied to the tower’s ultimate purpose and their lost identity.
The Tower of Radiance.
That was the true na of Jero’s tower.
BOOOOOOM!
The teor of light descended slowly, heavily. Gatros, for all his power, could not escape its path.
"Oh… Oh… Ohhhhhh!"
Before the teor even touched him, the light’s surrounding energy began to obliterate his aura.
This was not divine power. Yet the principles embodied within the light rejected his very existence.
"What is this magic!?"
It defied all logic. Even Gatros, who possessed knowledge of countless esoteric secrets, could not comprehend it.
RUMBLE!
An imnse pressure descended, immobilizing all energy within its range. Gatros’s aura was vanishing at an alarming rate.
And it didn’t stop there.
"My… my soul…"
The light wasn’t rely burning him—it was purifying him. Or perhaps "purifying" was the wrong term.
This mysterious force was stripping away the thick, entrenched darkness clinging to his soul, cleansing it bit by bit.
"What kind of magic can cause this!? Impossible!"
Desperation clawed at him. If his soul were to be cleansed, he would cease to be himself. He would lose his purpose, his mission, everything he had fought for.
All his mories, all his ambitions—everything would be washed away as his soul ascended to so higher plane, leaving him blank and bereft.
To Gatros, this was a salvation he could never accept.
"NOOOOOOO!"
He scread, pouring every ounce of his power into resisting. He drew in the remaining black aura from his surroundings.
But it was futile.
The black aura simply disintegrated upon contact with the light, vanishing like smoke in the wind.
And within the depths of that black mist, another presence was panicking.
"What the hell! What is this! I’m done for!"
Hidden within the mist, Dark was obliterated before even coming into contact with the light.
Dark had been lurking within the battlefield, concealed in the black fog. Even Gatros hadn’t noticed him.
Though small in stature, Dark had blended seamlessly with the aura, becoming one with it.
To Dark, the magic was terrifyingly primal. If he had been fully integrated, his existence would have been erased instantly.
CRACKLE!
At last, the teor of light collided with Gatros’s colossal form.
The black aura surrounding him ignited, burning uncontrollably as it was drawn into the teor. Everywhere the light touched, the sa fate awaited.
Gatros was dying, slowly but surely.
Not a single ounce of resistance was effective.
"To think I possess such power… yet I am still dying… What is this magic…"
Just as despair and fear began to consu him entirely, sothing unexpected occurred.
The bracelet on Gatros’s true body began to glow.
FLASH!
The Bracelet of the Saintess radiated imnse divine power, pushing against the teor of light.
Seeing this, Jero’s face twisted in despair.
"Why…?"
Why was divine power protecting this demon?
Why was it shielding him?
CRACK!
The teor of light began to fracture. The intricate spell circles drawn in the air also started to split apart.
If Jero had reached the 9th circle, no amount of interference would have stopped the spell.
But now, he was barely holding it together.
With divine power disrupting him, maintaining the spell beca impossible.
"Ghhhhh…"
Jero gritted his teeth, trying desperately to hold the spell. He wanted to annihilate Gatros and the Atrodé Army in one decisive blow.
BOOM!
But the divine power surged even more violently, spreading across the battlefield.
So of the divine energy reached Jero.
In that mont, he felt sothing. Though no voice spoke, the intent carried by the divine power was clear.
"I see…"
Though he lacked proof, Jero suddenly understood.
This spell was not ant to be used yet.
And if he stopped now, he might still survive.
"But… there’s no point in continuing now…"
With a bitter smile, Jero released his grip on the spell.
CRACK!
The teor and the spell circles shattered completely.
Golden shards of light scattered like countless stars across the battlefield.
It resembled a galaxy stretching across the night sky.
Even the luminous fragnts that had adorned the air like golden threads vanished soon after.
And with that, Jero began to fall from the sky.
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