🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 32
“Welcome to your slave contract.”
The sunlight streaming through the large window of the magic tower’s laboratory warmed the room. At the calm voice from across the desk, Celia narrowed her eyes.
“The situations are completely different. You ended up here because you were chased. I was scouted.”
“I was scouted too, under the condition of personal protection.”
Celia tapped her unbound wrist. The mage with the restraint cuff frowned.
“Try being in my position, my lady— I should get going.”
The scarecrow-like mage checked the clock and bolted out of the room— other researchers would be arriving soon, and he didn’t like dealing with anyone except Celia.
Right on time, as if summoned, the other researchers entered and rushed over to her.
“Celia! You’re here!”
“How were your academy classes? They’re not as fun as experimenting with us, right?”
“Let’s do this one today, okay?”
“Alright, alright, calm down, Rose, Marin.”
The two smiled brightly— Rose and Marin, the twin prodigies who had helped Celia suppress her mana rampage. When she decided to join the Magic Tower, no one was happier than those two, the Tower Master’s prized apprentices.
‘…Yeah, I ended up coming here after all.’
To that damned tower. It had already been weeks since then.
“Won’t you finally come to the tower this time?”
“I don’t want to.”
“I’ll give you a scholarship! Whatever conditions you want, okay?”
“……”
“You still need to deal with your mana rampage, don’t you? Hmm??”
‘If it weren’t for that bastard Ilrod…’
It had been an unavoidable choice. Dying after being cursed with borrowed power and given a death sentence wasn’t an option.
So, the moment the ceremony was over, Celia enrolled in classes at the Magic Tower. Since the Magic Swordsman Division hadn’t yet been established, she decided to attend the Tower’s courses instead of the Academy’s magic department.
It was tedious moving between the two places, but manageable—except for those bursts of anger whenever she thought of Ilrod.
‘They said the Heinz family never showed up at the briefing that day.’
She’d heard that later. She’d even considered sneaking into the Heinz Duchy out of fury, but the security was far too strict.
By now, it had become a matter of pride. Celia muttered under her breath:
“When I meet him, I’ll seriously make him bald.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing.”
“Bald, you say? Come to think of it, there’s an herb used for hair-loss potions. Want me to teach you?”
“Why would I want that?”
“It’s profitable. Very.”
“…Then please teach me. Quickly.”
That was her small consolation.
She’d need money if she planned to disappear someday— enough to pay off her debts and then some. Fortunately, the Tower was full of ways to make money.
While learning basic attack and defense magic, Celia also studied potion-making and magical item crafting, anything unrelated to pure magic theory. She had joined under the condition that she could study whatever she wanted.
‘This mana is something I’ll eventually discard anyway.’
Once she returned Ilrod’s power, she wouldn’t be able to use magic anymore— but the knowledge of alchemy and crafting potions would remain. Those didn’t require strong mana to create.
Besides, there was always some reckless idiot nearby getting himself hurt, so knowing how to make healing potions would be useful.
Krondele still hadn’t contacted her. From the lack of royal commotion, it seemed he’d managed to smooth things over— though likely with a disciplinary penalty for the treasury incident.
Just as Marin opened her mouth, having noticed Celia’s shift in expression—
“Ah. So when you said you wanted to make someone bald, you meant—”
Bang!
The lab door burst open. Riman Jaykal entered unannounced, his eyes instantly landing on the hair-loss herb Marin was holding. His gaze turned cold.
“No wonder you show no progress when you waste time on nonsense like that.”
“Ah, there you are. Was wondering when you’d show up.”
Celia was used to his constant interruptions by now— he’d come by several times a day to pick a fight ever since she’d joined.
Unfazed, Celia replied casually, “I am making progress.”
“She really is. Celia’s amazing,” Rose added.
“Her mana control improved at record speed!” Marin agreed.
The first things Celia learned at the Tower were mana control and binding spells. Survival came before mastery. She still wasn’t perfect, but she could now perform basic self-stabilization.
Riman’s face twisted. “…I’m better at control.”
“Oh, really.”
“Want to prove it?”
“What’ll you wager? Your hair?”
Celia’s tone was indifferent, brushing off his irritation like dust.
‘There’s not even a sliver of hope that he’ll ever treat me decently.’
She’d known from the start that he disliked her— his persistence was the only annoying part. But she saw no reason to play nice. In her past life, she might’ve had to read the room to survive, but not anymore.
Apparently taking offense, Riman growled, “Just because you were lucky enough to be born with dual mana doesn’t mean it’s all your talent. For someone who ignores the rules, that power’s wasted.”
“That’s not something I can just ignore.”
Celia finally turned her gaze on him, meeting his eyes. He flinched.
“And you? Weren’t you a magic prodigy raised in the Tower since childhood?”
“What’s your point…?”
“You were lucky too. Born with great mana, born into a good family— that’s why the Tower picked you. Think you’d be here otherwise?”
She wasn’t mocking him. She was stating a truth. In her past life, she’d seen soldiers who weren’t Tower mages but could use mana effectively— people who might’ve become great magicians if they’d had the chance.
“So if you got lucky too, isn’t it weird to call me lucky?”
Her own “luck” had been nothing but a curse shoved onto her.
‘Being told I’m lucky only rubs salt in the wound.’
“And what was that about principles? You mean those principles you conveniently drop depending on who you’re talking to?”
Riman’s lectures about rules were getting old. Every time she tried to learn something, he’d nag that she wasn’t following the proper order.
“If you care that much about Tower principles, how about starting with the one about respecting your peers?”
“…Are you insulting me?”
Celia sighed. Her opponent was a sheltered, inexperienced academic— and worse, one who twisted everything she said into an attack. Even arguing with him was becoming pointless.
‘You can’t reason with people like this.’
So she replied dryly, “Whatever. Just blow off your steam and go like usual.”
“……”
“Hope that satisfies you.”
“Don’t treat me like a child!”
Bang!
A burst of compressed air struck a pile of books in the corner. A wind-element attack spell. Weak, but threatening enough.
“Riman Jaykal!”
“You’ve gone too far!” Rose and Marin shouted.
Celia tilted her head, completely unshaken.
Riman, now red-faced— perhaps realizing what he’d done— clenched his jaw in frustration.
Celia spoke slowly.
“I’ve been patient with you.”
Whoosh.
In a flash, she closed the distance, grabbed his collar, and slammed him against the wall.
“Hey.”
Riman winced as his head hit the wall. When Celia raised her hand, he flinched again—
Thunk!
Instead of slapping him, she flicked him hard on the forehead.
“!”
Expecting a slap, Riman looked even more humiliated.
“What the hell was that?!”
“The same force as that spell you just fired at the books.”
He shut his mouth, knowing she was right.
“Honestly, even if you’d hit me with that spell, you couldn’t have done more damage than this. Know why?”
“How would I know?”
His stubbornness made her laugh.
Celia tilted her head, the sunlight glinting in her silver eyes.
“Because you’re a frog in a well.”
He blinked, confused.
“Have you ever tested your magic outside this Tower?”
“……”
“Ever seen the world beyond it?”
Her voice dropped low, and his ears reddened.
“You’ve lived here since you could walk, right? Barely go outside. Then how would you know what kinds of magic exist beyond the kingdom? Or what’s out there?”
“The Tower holds centuries of magical theory since the kingdom’s founding—!”
“And that theory can crumble overnight.”
Celia had seen it firsthand—
People dying because the magic they’d mastered didn’t work.
Monsters that didn’t give second chances. Soldiers who swung a sword wrong and died instantly. Mages who miscast one spell and lost their heads.
…And sometimes, hundreds dying in trenches because of a single order from commanders obsessed with “rules” and “principles.”
The screams still rang in her ears.
‘No. That was another life.’
At least, for now. Before the memories consumed her, she stepped back and said curtly:
“I’m not entertaining your selfish tantrums.”
“Selfish? You’re the shameless one! You humiliated everyone at the entrance exam—”
“Humiliated? If that had been cheating, I wouldn’t have been admitted. Don’t make excuses. You just want attention. You’re throwing a fit because you want someone to notice you.”
She said it deliberately, like scolding a spoiled child.
“Am I wrong, young master?”
