A spacious living room with one wall made entirely of glass.
Outside, the entire white city of Sirin could be seen at a glance.
"I can see it, yet I still can't believe it."
Oscar murmured as he silently watched the city at night.
"......Twenty years have passed."
Fran had not been lying.
The Sirin spread out before his eyes now looked markedly different from the city he remembered.
'It's developed so much it's dazzling.'
The city that had once sunk into darkness after sunset was no more.
Lights glittering as though the stars had been drawn down from the night sky shone brilliantly throughout the city.
'Magical lights. You could only find those in places like the magic towers or imperial palace in the past.'
Such high-end magical devices had been installed openly along the streets.
And a means of transportation that moved on its own without even being pulled by a horse—no matter how he looked at it, that was fascinating.
"Streetlights, automobiles, the magitech revolution."
He murmured the new words he had learned.
After taking in the city's peaceful night for quite some time, Oscar smiled faintly.
'Thank goodness.'
The atmosphere in a city awaiting destruction had always been somber.
People had not spoken to one another, and their eyes had shown that they had given up on everything.
But now, he could see smiling faces everywhere.
"......Thank goodness. Truly."
It felt as if some of the guilt piled up in a corner of his heart had faded.
Even though it had been for humanity's sake, he had never forgotten the moment he abandoned this place.
'Those guys would've been happy to see this too.'
He missed the subordinates he had sent to the heavens before him, but at the same time, he felt too ashamed to face them.
As he gazed at the nighttime city with mixed emotions, Oscar murmured.
"That's enough sightseeing."
Tap, tap.
When he lightly tapped the glass wall, it instantly transformed into a spotless mirror.
Oscar stared at the still-unfamiliar man in the mirror.
"......Oscar Crucian."
Coincidentally, the owner of this body had also been named Oscar.
He was born to a fallen count's family, taken in by the White Tower at the age of ten, and was now twenty years old.
'First of all, his looks pass.'
He had the aristocratic appearance of a handsome young nobleman, with sharp eyes and pure-white skin.
His blue eyes, identical to those of Oscar's previous life, seemed to go rather well with his black hair too.
'But...... as a mage, he fails.'
To still be stuck at Level 1 at his age.
That meant he was abysmally untalented.
Had he possessed even an average level of talent, he would have reached Level 3 by now.
'Did that make him impatient?'
Oscar had heard that the body's original owner had committed embezzlement of research funds and taken an illegal elixir.
It supposedly increased one's mana severalfold, but failure could put one's life in danger.
'Fran said it was sheer luck that he survived after drinking such a thing, but......'
Oscar doubted it. The man had probably died from taking it.
That must have been how Oscar's soul entered this body.
The concept seemed similar to the possession used by spirit monsters.
'But there's no way my soul wandered the world for no reason.'
Someone had clearly been toying with his soul.
He did not know who the insolent wretch was, but finding them could wait.
'First, I need to learn about the White Tower's current situation and what happened to my disciples.'
After all, weren't two of his mere three disciples being called traitors?
"......What in the world happened while I was gone?"
With a troubled expression, Oscar sat on the sofa.
He wanted to sort out his complicated thoughts and examine the current state of his body.
Hummm!
The mana circuits that had lain dormant answered the former archmage's call and activated, startling him.
"What is this?"
There was so much.
For a Level 1 mage, he possessed far too much mana.
Most of it was even pure mana that had yet to be refined.
'......Then he gained all of this by drinking a cheap illegal elixir?'
The prices in modern society were astounding.
Oscar parted his lips slightly in admiration and skillfully drew up his mana.
'Hmm.'
Regardless of how much mana he possessed, he could not honestly say his circuits were in good shape.
A mana circuit was supposed to be as smooth as a well-maintained footpath.
But this man's circuits were a mess, like a sandy beach where one's feet sank with every step.
'Then again, expecting anything from an untalented Level 1 mage would be asking too much.'
Oscar was about to examine the mana circuits more closely.
'......What's this now?'
Sensing a strange energy in the circuits, he gathered it at the tip of his left index finger and expelled it like sweat.
Hiss!
The corner of the desk melted away where a single drop of black liquid landed.
"Poison?"
An extremely lethal poison at that.
Judging by the amount remaining and the timing, it must have been an ingredient in the illegal elixir.
After collecting his thoughts for a moment, Oscar slowly nodded.
'......I see. I think I have a rough idea of what happened.'
First, the illegal elixir Oscar Crucian had drunk could not possibly have been cheap.
The amount and purity of the mana were far beyond anything obtainable from a low-grade elixir.
'It must originally have been an exceptionally fine elixir, one difficult to obtain even by paying a premium.'
The seller must have used it as bait to make some kind of proposal, and Oscar Crucian had been unable to refuse.
The only problem was that he had not known it contained poison.
'In other words, this man's cause of death wasn't a mana rampage, but poisoning.'
The poison was also far too sophisticated for something used to kill a Level 1 mage.
It would have been impossible to discover without dissecting the corpse and examining it in exhaustive detail.
"......"
After considering how to take the situation, Oscar slowly rose from his seat.
Then he looked at the face in the mirror and spoke.
"......Rest in peace. I'll pay for borrowing your body by avenging you."
Even aside from that, it was only right to remove anything that might obstruct his path in advance.
Oscar picked up the bottle faintly scented with herbs and left the room.
***
As Elder Maxim walked through the magic tower's corridor, he recalled what had happened that morning.
'Good grief.'
The Wind Shield Oscar had cast displayed a degree of refinement that had startled even him.
If he had not regained his senses in time, his wrist might have been twisted.
'That boy has been training harder than I thought.'
Once one became an elder of the White Tower, a single glimpse revealed a great deal.
Wind Shield was a basic spell, but that level of refinement could not be achieved through a mere day or two of effort.
Oscar must have worked himself to the bone where no one could see, even cutting back on sleep and meals.
His eyes stinging for no reason, Maxim stopped walking and looked out the window.
"......You foolish boy."
Several years ago, when the Vice Tower Master had brought back some little child, Maxim had vehemently objected.
This was no orphanage, he had argued. Why bring in a child when they needed to cut down on even the extra mouths they already fed?
But it had not taken long for that opinion to be overturned.
'He was a genius.'
The moment Maxim saw a glimpse of that overwhelming talent, expectation sprouted on its own.
This child would grow into a great mage.
He would bring a new wind to the declining White Tower.
"......"
But the gods were cruel.
They had given the child a mind capable of understanding every principle of magic in the world, but not a body capable of wielding it.
When they investigated why his growth was so slow compared with his tremendous understanding of magic.
The child was diagnosed with 'mana loss syndrome'.
'That day was the first time I learned a person could cry so bitterly.'
Was that why? Maxim had considered it a relief when Oscar volunteered to become a theoretical mage instead.
With his understanding of magic, the child could attain an unrivaled position in the theoretical field.
But after changing paths, Oscar's actions had been bitterly disappointing.
Whatever he was doing with the research funds they could barely afford to provide, he had produced no results for years.
"And now embezzlement on top of everything else...... That problem child does nothing but trouble my mind."
"Hoho."
At the quiet laugh from behind him, Maxim hurriedly turned around.
A tiny old man, scarcely reaching his chest, stood there with his hands clasped behind his back.
"Vice Tower Master?"
"I was looking for you, Elder Maxim. So here you were."
"You were looking for me? What is it?"
"I thought you might go find that child and fly into a rage if left alone."
"Ah, about that......"
Maxim cleared his throat with an awkward expression.
"I already had it out with him this morning."
"Oh, already?"
Clicking his tongue lightly, the Vice Tower Master spoke.
"Don't be too hard on him. He must be suffering more than anyone."
"We can't indulge him forever. I cannot forgive his embezzlement of research funds. However......"
Maxim had thought Oscar was merely turning away from reality.
A naive child who believed that taking an elixir would solve all his problems.
But now his opinion had changed somewhat.
'......Perhaps I was the one who gave up first, and the one who held the deepest prejudice.'
As proof, hadn't the boy been working harder than anyone where no one could see him?
Belated shame washed over Maxim, and he gave a bitter smile.
"In some ways, Oscar may be far more mature than I am."
"If that's true, I hope he refrains from causing trouble for a while."
"Ha-ha, the boy must have a conscience. It's only been a few hours since he woke after causing trouble. Surely he wouldn't cause another incident already?"
At the exact moment Maxim laughed, insisting that would never happen.
Oscar entered a tavern in the city.
***
"Welcome."
When Oscar entered the establishment, <Goblin's Tears>, the bartender polishing a glass greeted him.
Oscar sat down in front of him and looked around.
"Is this...... a tavern?"
"Yes, as you can see. We also sell simple food, of course."
This was unexpected.
He had followed the faint herbal scent left on the medicine bottle...... but had never imagined it would lead to a tavern.
'That means it must be one of two things.'
Either Oscar had come here for a drink after purchasing the illegal elixir, or this had been the place of exchange.
The latter was unquestionably more likely.
"A few days ago, I must have met someone here and made a deal. Do you remember anything?"
"I'm not sure. We have so many customers coming and going every day......"
"It was an elixir. A nasty thing that multiplies your mana severalfold if it succeeds but could kill you if it fails. I nearly died myself."
"......I'm sorry, but I don't know anything about that."
The bartender shook his head apologetically and continued polishing the glass.
After staring at him for a moment, Oscar casually asked.
"Having trouble getting it clean?"
"Pardon?"
"That glass. You've been polishing the same one since the moment I walked in."
"......"
The bartender froze, stopped his busy hands, and glanced aside.
As if they had been waiting for the signal, four burly men surrounded Oscar.
"Hey, mage. Why don't you stop bothering the innocent bartender and have a chat with us?"
"While we're still asking nicely, just drink quietly and leave. Spend plenty of money too."
"Hundreds of customers come through here every day. How could he possibly remember who met whom? Isn't that right?"
"......"
Oscar silently looked at the men surrounding him and spoke.
"......Am I being threatened right now? A mage of the White Tower?"
"Pfft! A mage? Not everyone affiliated with a magic tower is the same kind of mage."
"Come now, you ignorant fool. At least show him the respect he's due. He's a genius theoretical mage, after all."
"Even if he is a half-baked mage who can only use basic spells."
Oscar learned something he had not known from the snickering thugs.
'So this man was a theoretical mage.'
Then it made sense that he had remained at Level 1 until this age.
Theoretical mages devoted themselves to analyzing and researching magic rather than using it in combat.
"Anyway, none of us remember a thing, so unless you're here to drink, get lost."
"That's a lie."
"......What?"
"What you just said was a lie."
The air conveys far more information than people imagine.
For example, the air around that man was trembling faintly because he was lying.
"What proof do you have, you bastard......?"
"Tony. Calm down."
After calming his companion, the man threatened Oscar by revealing the sheath at his waist.
"Why don't you stop making trouble and get lost, mage? Otherwise, this won't end well for you."
"......Hmm."
Oscar stroked his chin in thought.
'What would the original owner of this body have done in this situation?'
The answer came quickly.
'What do I care?'
He smirked and looked at the man.
"Did you know? They say a person's character can change completely after a brush with death."
"......?"
"So if I seem unfamiliar from now on, just assume that's why."
The instant he finished speaking, SLICE, SLICE—!
With sounds like heavy cuts through meat, the three men behind him crumpled.
"......Huh?"
"M-my leg! My leg is bleeding!"
"Aaaagh!"
Faces stained with pain and terror let out shrill screams.
The sole remaining man hurriedly tried to draw his sword, but something cold was already touching the back of his neck.
"Wh-what is this......?"
"Wind Cutter, the basic spell you were mocking."
There is no such thing as bad magic.
All that matters is who uses it and how.
"I'll ask one more time."
Oscar's distinctively sharp gaze fixed on the man.
He gently swayed the elixir bottle he had brought and asked.
"Who was it? Who sold me this garbage?"