Delivery, delivery...... delivery?
Oscar rolled the word around in his mouth and blinked.
"By delivery, you mean the work of delivering goods or letters?"
"That's right. The White Tower's postmen can fly, so their deliveries are both fast and safe. Their official title is Wind Rider......"
At that moment, Gordon sensed something ominous and promptly shut his mouth.
It was the right decision.
Oscar's eyes had turned as cold as ice.
"......Interesting. You plan to stall for time with nonsense? Give up. Your men still aren't coming."
"What? N-no, that's not it!"
Startled, Gordon protested in an aggrieved voice.
"It's written in the document, isn't it?! Page thirteen! The fourth line!"
"......"
When Oscar opened the page, it did indeed contain information about the delivery business.
"......The White Tower's business truly is delivery?"
"Yes! I swear it."
"Ha."
It was so absurd that he could do nothing but laugh in disbelief.
What sort of people had the White Tower's mages once been?
They had dominated the battlefield while soaring through the boundless sky.
The world had likened their free yet valiant figures to dragons and eagles......
"......What? They're flying around delivering packages?"
Didn't that make them nothing but a bunch of pigeon bastards?
Did they think their ancestors had developed 『Flight』 for that purpose?
With fury blazing in his eyes, Oscar whipped his head around.
"Who was it?"
"Pardon?"
"Which bastard pushed through this ridiculous business?"
"I-I believe it was the current Tower Master, Shasha Meister."
"......Fuu."
It was his own child.
After taking a moment to calm his ragged breathing, Oscar asked.
"So you're telling me our people work as those riders or whatever they're called?"
"Wind Riders."
"Right, those. Yet we still can't keep up with the other magic towers' profits? Why?"
"For one thing, the White Tower uses intermediate mages as Wind Riders. They're good at flying."
"......"
Not even beginner mages, but intermediate ones?
That decision made no sense.
The market value of intermediate mages at Level 4 or higher was considerably greater.
'Wouldn't they be far more profitable if we simply gave them suitable commissions?'
The next words reached him while he remained full of questions.
"More importantly, the delivery fees are practically nonexistent, so I understand it's a business that consistently operates at a loss."
"......Oh, my aching head."
They had turned those precious assets into deliverymen and did not even charge proper fees?
A business was supposed to make money. Why were they the ones spending it?
If possible, he wanted to meet Shasha immediately and ask what she had been thinking when she launched such a business.
'And if the White Tower has fallen and doesn't have many mages, even with a monopoly, there must be a limit to how much volume we can handle......'
Wouldn't it truly be more profitable to redirect the intermediate mages toward commissions?
Magitech and agricultural support sounded profitable just from hearing about them.
The Red Tower also monopolized government subjugation commissions, so it must stand at the heart of power.
'Income, influence over the local community, the number of high-level mages, and even political power......'
The White Tower could not compare with the other members of the Four Great Magic Towers in any respect, so it had no right to complain about expulsion.
If anything, they should thank the imperial family for showing them consideration for twenty whole years.
'I don't even know where to start fixing this mess.'
Worse still, only seven months remained until the White Night Festival honoring the White Tower's sacrifice.
Changing the tower's standing within such a short period was virtually impossible.
Plans of all kinds flashed through Oscar's mind.
"Gurk, ghk!"
Gordon suddenly foamed at the mouth and trembled.
At first Oscar thought he was exaggerating, but a closer look showed signs that he was about to die of shock.
'He must have lost too much blood.'
Sure enough, when Oscar looked at the floor, it was drenched in blood.
Wondering whether he should save the man, Oscar opened the <Ledger>.
"Let's see...... arson, assault, robbery, illegal loans, and would you look at that, even contract killing?"
He was nothing short of walking garbage.
Feeling no need to save him, Oscar leaped out the window without hesitation.
By the time he landed on the ground, the room had fallen silent despite his release of 『Sound Binding』.
The dead tell no tales.
***
After returning to his room, Oscar collapsed onto the sofa.
"Whew, what kind of body......"
How could it creak this badly after casting just a few simple spells?
He murmured in a thoroughly exhausted voice.
"Wind Archive (Wind Archive)."
It was the unique spell that had made him the greatest mage in human history.
WHOOOOSH—!
The violently surging wind swirled above his palm, then scattered weakly.
'......As expected, is casting it still too much for this body?'
Then again, even before, he had only begun to wield this spell perfectly after reaching Level 7.
Oscar settled for casting 『Scan』 over his entire body.
No matter how he considered it, his physical condition did not seem normal.
'Once the scan finishes, I'll know what's wrong. Even a rough examination will take a few minutes, so......'
He began reading the <Oscar Crucian> document he had taken from Gordon's office.
[Heir to the Crucian County and sole survivor of the great fire at its estate. Every magic tower and faction that recognized his genius early fought to recruit him, making him the focus of nationwide attention.]
"Hm?"
Surprise appeared on Oscar's face.
From the writing, it sounded as though the man had been an extraordinary genius.
But the Oscar Crucian he knew was a novice mage who had failed to move beyond Level 1 even at twenty years old.
Blinking, he immediately read the next sentence.
[Indeed, he graduated from the Imperial Academy's nine-year magic program in only six years and earned perfect marks on every examination. The original papers he published as a student also displayed his genius without reserve.]
"No, he really was a genius."
Why was someone so remarkable still at Level 1......?
Rustle.
The growing question was resolved with a dizzying shock the instant he turned the page.
[That is precisely why so many lament his circumstances. Had he not suffered from 'mana loss syndrome,' he would undoubtedly have become the archmage who defined a new era.]
"......This man suffered from mana loss syndrome?"
Oscar's face stiffened.
If that was true, even he had no way to help.
Even if he drank elixirs instead of water every day, he would never advance beyond the realm of a beginner mage.
'So that's why, all this time......'
Oscar looked at the face in the mirror with pity.
This despair was far too immense for a mere twenty-year-old to bear.
He understood magic better than anyone, yet could not use it himself.
'If he'd been unable to understand it at all, at least it wouldn't have hurt so much.'
He sighed in sympathy, and the mana scan finished at that exact moment.
"......Display results."
As Oscar examined the results floating before him, his expression slowly twisted.
'What is this?'
The cause of the condition known as 'mana loss syndrome' was simple.
Every human was born with twenty physical circuits, whether or not they became a mage or knight.
When those circuits were tangled and twisted, mana could neither circulate nor accumulate smoothly.
Naturally, even a lifetime of training might not get the sufferer to Level 3.
'But...... this is different.'
It looked extremely similar to mana loss syndrome, but the underlying cause was not the same.
'I'm certain. Someone bound these deliberately.'
The physical circuits were so tightly bound that they could not perform their proper role.
If he could only undo those knots, they would return to normal in an instant.
Oscar bit his lip.
"What bastard did this......?"
As a mage, as a senior, and as an adult, he was furious.
Someone's scheme had completely changed the life of a mage whose future should have been brighter than anyone's.
"......"
After silently analyzing the circuits for a while, Oscar reached a conclusion.
'I can do it. It won't be easy.'
The vicious knots that had restrained this man, the hateful shackles.
Oscar could sever every last one.
'Once I break them and reach a higher level......'
Then whoever had reduced the circuits to this state would be bound to react.
Slide!
Oscar rose and walked to the bookshelf.
'According to Fran, this man was a problem child who drowned himself in alcohol.'
But what if that image had been manufactured deliberately?
What if he knew someone had blocked his circuits and was even trying to take his life, so he pretended to be an idle wastrel?
'If he was a true genius, he must've realized long ago that he didn't have mana loss syndrome.'
Then it made sense that he had succumbed to the illegal elixir's temptation.
He had not known who had bound his circuits or whom he could trust.
He must have had no choice but to free himself from the shackles.
'It would be helpful if he had kept a diary or something.'
Fortunately, a dozen or so extremely thick notebooks were lined up on the shelf.
Their covers were heavily worn, showing that they had been opened far more than once or twice.
Oscar pulled one out and blinked.
"......A Reinterpretation of Basic Magic?"
Rustle.
Oscar read the title and casually turned the page, then froze.
[Wind Cutter suffers from an overly simple attack trajectory. As a means of compensating for this......]
[The defensive spell Wind Shield possesses limitless versatility. The advantages gained when employing it offensively include......]
[The weapon known as a gun is perfectly suited to reinterpretation through White Tower magic. Taking the spinning bullet as a motif......]
......
It was a spellbook.
A spellbook of the White Tower's basic magic annotated with Oscar Crucian's own thoughts.
It even contained several basic spells of his own invention.
"......This is impressive, isn't it?"
Having finished the book, Oscar understood why this man had been called a genius.
It was no exaggeration to say that, in theory alone, his insight rivaled Oscar's own.
The improved Wind Shield he proposed in this very book was proof enough.
'This is similar in concept to the Wind Shield I use.'
It twisted the trajectory of an opponent's attack and forcibly created an opening.
Oscar had used it moments ago in his fight with Bart; its concept and principles were utterly different from the conventional shield, which was limited to defense.
'He even filled the pages with his thoughts on the ideal way to use it in every situation.'
How much effort he had poured into this single book.
Even a quick glance revealed how much thought had gone into the annotations.
"......"
That was precisely why it could not be dismissed as a simple book of basic magic.
To others, these spells were mere fundamentals, paltry magic to move past after only a short while.
But to him, they must have been all the magic in the world.
Rustle, rustle.
Standing in place, Oscar silently turned the pages.
The crooked words he had left behind seemed to cry out.
He had not given up.
Although he was defective, someone unworthy even of being called a proper mage, he had worked harder than anyone.
More than anyone.
He loved magic.
"......"
Oscar's eyes reddened for no reason as he reached the last page.
There, in ink that had not yet fully dried, was a short sentence.
-May this book bring even the faintest wind to the White Tower. From a mage facing a great challenge.
The book ended with that simple sentence.
But Oscar could not shake off its lingering resonance for a long while.
'A mage facing a great challenge.'
So he had known after all.
He had known everything, yet had been unable to tell anyone about his situation and had borne it alone.
"Oscar Crucian......"
Young mage who refused to yield to the cruel fate imposed upon you, brave pioneer who silently walked a lonely road.
Oscar closed the book's cover and murmured softly.
"I swear upon the name of Oscar Sage, seventeenth Master of the White Tower."
The dream you never got to fulfill.
He would fulfill it in the young man's stead.
Those who had mercilessly broken your wings and locked you in a cage.
Oscar would make them pay for their sins in the young man's stead.
***
The sun rose.
But Oscar had not slept a wink, having spent the entire night reading a dozen or so books.
'I'm tired, but thanks to that, I checked every single one of the research journals Oscar Crucian left behind.'
Recalling the journals' contents, he wore a bitter expression.
His impression could be summarized as, 'admirable and astonishing, yet deeply regrettable.'
'Because almost all of the research was ultimately unfinished.'
Of course, that could not be helped.
No matter how talented a painter might be, they could not accurately paint a landscape they had never seen.
That made Oscar Crucian's ability to achieve so much through imagination and conjecture alone all the more astonishing.
'But don't worry.'
Oscar perfectly understood the direction and intent behind the research he had left.
All that remained was to finish the many incomplete studies.
Oscar was considering which study to tackle first.
-Ah, an announcement from the broadcasting room.
"......!"
Startled, Oscar looked at the small machine attached to the ceiling.
The voice had clearly come from there.
-Oscar Crucian. Mage Oscar Crucian, please report to Research Room 4202 immediately.
"Communication magic......? My mana code was deciphered that easily?"
Hadn't he been changing his mana code by the minute?
No answer came to his wary question.
After waiting briefly, Oscar carefully climbed onto a chair and inspected the speaker on the ceiling before finally relaxing.
"Whew, for a moment there...... This is another magitech device."
The world had become wonderfully convenient.
One could contact another person unilaterally like this without even knowing their mana code.
'It said Room 4202.'
Oscar left the room and immediately took the mana elevator to the forty-second floor.
Fortunately, elevators had existed in the past, so there was no need to panic.
Knock, knock.
"Come in."
Inside, Oscar found Elder Maxim buried beneath a mountain of documents.
He nearly greeted the man warmly, but barely managed to stop himself.
'I never imagined the elder I saw in the infirmary was my junior, Maxim.'
He had learned that while Fran explained various things in the infirmary.
Maxim Visk.
A junior who had joined the White Tower a few years after him.
He had been a promising talent, steadfast and diligent.
'And now he's grown older and become an elder.'
Oscar fondly remembered the adorable way Maxim had followed him around, calling him Senior, Senior, then later Tower Master, Tower Master.
A warm smile settled on Oscar's lips.
'He must've worked hard, judging by how young he looks.'
That was among the highest compliments one could give a mage.
The more mana one possessed, the slower one aged.
Maxim himself must have been in his mid-to-late forties, yet looked only in his early-to-mid thirties.
"Is your body feeling better?"
Without looking away from the report, Maxim asked indifferently.
"Yeah...... Ah, no. Yes, sir."
"So it seems."
Thud. A document was tossed onto the desk.
"You injured three people at a tavern and killed the head and enforcer of the Gordon Family. Do you have anything to say?"
"Yes. I had good reason."
Oscar placed the purse and ledger on the desk.
Maxim glanced at them and asked.
"What are these?"
"The commission fee. What they were paid for my assassination."
"......Did you just say assassination?"
His slightly surprised eyes urged Oscar to explain at once.
"Yes. The elixir contained poison. When I discovered that belatedly and went to confront them, they tried to kill me."
"Hmm."
After checking the purse and the ledger's contents, Maxim nodded.
"It certainly contains a record of the contract killing, and the sum matches exactly."
Oscar had told the perfect truth except for the part where he possessed the body, so there was no room for suspicion.
As expected, Maxim spoke.
"You must have made enemies during all those visits to taverns. I'll use my authority to close this incident as self-defense."
"Thank you. Ah, and may I ask you a favor?"
"......It's unusual to hear the word 'favor' from you. What is it?"
As Maxim looked at him in surprise, Oscar said what he had been waiting for a chance to say since the day before.
"I'd like to meet the Tower Master."