Chapter 256

Like every other day, Elthomagia’s Green Mage, Eloun Grillde, stood guard in front of his assigned library section, minding his own business.

He had come prepared, as usual. A sandwich meant to pass as breakfast, a brutally strong cup of coffee to beat back his chronic exhaustion, and a stack of freshly printed academic papers still warm from the press. The moment he sat down, he started arranging everything with obsessive care.

“Hmm... who had this shift yesterday? If a seat gets used, at least clean it up afterward...”

A mage with a painfully neat personality wiped down the stains on the polished wooden desk, then lined up his belongings one by one with military precision.

“Now that’s perfect.” Eloun nodded in satisfaction, lifted his steaming coffee, and was just about to take a sip, when, like a bad joke, a man appeared right in front of him.

There was no flashy burst of light or dramatic shimmer. He just appeared as if he had always been standing there.

“Waaaah!” Eloun screamed, looking at the man in confusion.

Outside the tower, he strutted around proudly as a Green mage of Elthomagia, shoulders stiff with pride. But at the end of the day he was still a desk-bound scholar, and sudden chaos like this fried his brain instantly.

Freezing for a split second, he screamed again and toppled backward. This time the scream carried real pain. The scalding coffee in his hand spilled everywhere, soaking his chin, neck, and chest beneath his robes. He flailed, hissing through clenched teeth as the heat burned through the fabric.

Then, he snapped back into focus. Now wasn’t the time to panic over a coffee spill. Eloun’s sharp mind began racing. A person just popped out of nowhere without a Magic Circle.

The Magic Tower of Elthomagia was layered with defensive wards. Among them were barriers specifically designed to interfere with spatial movement. Unless someone used a pre-approved route or a properly installed teleportation circle, any forced teleportation would end in catastrophic injury or outright death.

So who in the world was this guy? Did he just break through the barrier and teleport in anyway? That made no sense. The warding magic protecting this tower belonged to monsters among mages.

Do-Jin was the man who had appeared out of thin air. He asked gently, “Are you okay?”

Staring at the pale-faced scholar whose brain had clearly short-circuited, Do-Jin let out a sigh on the inside.

If she was going to send me off, she could have at least dropped me on a proper teleportation circle instead of this bullshit.

He sent a small wave of cold air over Eloun, letting a thin chill wrap around his body and soothe the burns left by the spilled coffee.

Even after the small gesture of kindness, Eloun instinctively shrieked without thinking, “Wh-who the hell are you?”

There were multiple mages guarding the approach to this area, not to mention layers of defensive Magic Circles stacked on top of each other. Then, he realized that if someone had simply appeared here out of nowhere, whatever happened outside didn’t even matter anymore. Even so, this room alone should have triggered a storm of attack spells the moment an unauthorized presence appeared.

As the man calmly held up his insignia, Eloun’s eyes spun with confusion.

“I get why this looks insane for you, but... maybe calm down a little,” Do-Jin said. “Watching someone panic this hard is starting to stress me out too. I am a mage of Elthomagia as well. The fact that no fireballs are raining down from that direction should be a pretty good hint, right?”

Eloun glanced instinctively toward the direction where the intrusion-purge Magic Circles were installed, then jerked his gaze back in shock. It was certainly an Elthomagia insignia, but something about it looked off.

“Is that... forged?”

“What? Hahaha.” Do-Jin laughed, then let out a long, tired breath.

If the translucent scroll Sion had handed over was shown to this guy right now, the poor bastard would probably drop dead from shock on the spot. For a brief second, Do-Jin seriously considered just walking in and grabbing whatever he needed himself. Searching the massive library personally might actually be faster than waiting for this half-broken scholar to start functioning like a normal human being.

I would honestly love to just do that...

But that would create unnecessary noise. As if prompted by that exact thought, real noise exploded through the room. The door behind them had slammed open, and from that direction, a familiar old man was striding in.

“Ohhh...!” Eloun exclaimed, clearly recognizing the man.

It was Miguel Grace, one of Elthomagia’s Purple Mages. He was built like a war machine rather than an elderly scholar.

Miguel beamed the moment he saw Do-Jin, happy that luck had favored him today. He happened to hold full authority over this library sector, and the moment the space fluctuated even slightly, the alarm crystal in his hand had screamed at him.

I lost a bet and got stuck with this annoying position, but it turns out it was destiny.

Miguel cleared his throat, trying to contain his excitement as he prepared to greet Do-Jin.

“Li-library Master! Th-this man suddenly appeared here. And the insignia he carries—” Eloun might have finished the sentence had he not been on the verge of passing out.

Miguel’s face twisted instantly. “Enough! Do you even realize who stands before you? Stop making a damn fool of yourself.”

Do-Jin offered a quiet nod of respect.

A quick glance at Eloun showed the poor mage frozen silent, completely deflated under the Purple Rank’s scolding.

I just need to grab a few books and leave. Why the fuck is this turning into a whole event?

Fatigue crept in all at once. As if the day needed more chaos, one of the Purple Mage elders he had met before approached with a wide grin.

“Well now, what should I even say first? Perhaps I should begin with thanks. The moment Lady Sion disappeared, everything felt like the world went dark. Ah, there is no need to worry. Everything has already been sealed shut, so no one outside will hear a thing.”

Do-Jin’s gaze drifted back from Eloun and settled straight ahead again.

“It was nothing special. Something had to be done, and I happened to be able to do it.”

Miguel let out a low chuckle. “Very few people can say something like that. Those who do what must be done are rare enough. Those with the ability to pull it off when things turn ugly are even rarer. Someone who fits both... that alone is impressive.”

Miguel meant every word. Do-Jin had already proven himself by doing what the rest of them could not. While they had stood there helpless, grinding their teeth and watching the situation spiral, he had stepped outside the world and dragged back the impossible.

Most mages worshiped ability above everything else. Among the seven Purple Mage elders, Miguel ranked just behind Albert when it came to ruthless meritocracy, and in his eyes Do-Jin was the real deal.

No... that’s not quite right. Judging someone chosen by Her using my own standards would be arrogant, Miguel thought.

More than anything, the young mage standing in front of him, balanced awkwardly between boy and man, was Sion Grace’s first disciple. That alone already proved enough.

He’s the disciple of Sion Grace.

As the thought rolled through his mind, a flicker of envy stirred in Miguel’s chest. It never turned into jealousy. Anyone who dared let that kind of irreverent emotion take root toward her would face his judgement personally. To Miguel and the other six, Sion Grace existed on such a lofty plane that ordinary emotions seemed like blasphemy.

“So then... what brings you here today?” Miguel asked carefully.

At that, Do-Jin held out the thing Sion had given him. “Nothing dramatic. I just need something. I mentioned needing a Tier 8 spellbook, and she sent me here.”

“Sion herself sent you here?”

Miguel’s expression stiffened for a second. The words “Tier 8 spellbook” alone made memories flicker. When had he first been called a Tier 8 mage? Probably past forty, if memory served him right. And yet this kid was already asking for one like it was a grocery list item.

He unrolled the translucent scroll Do-Jin handed over and glanced at it.

Give it to him.

— Sion Grace

Miguel let out a dry laugh.

The magical authority woven into the document reached so high it practically brushed the sky, yet the written message was nothing more than that blunt command. The Grand Master’s magical seal glowed faintly at the edge, unmistakably the mark of Sion Grace.

“Please take as many as you desire. Although... perhaps a cup of tea afterward would not be unwelcome.”

Miguel finally revealed the real reason he had come rushing here. The other Masters were tied up with duties and scattered across the tower, but he had stubbornly stayed put for one simple reason. Curiosity had been chewing at him nonstop, and now, the disciple of Sion Grace stood right here. The story behind her return hung in the air like a secret begging to be torn open.

The only problem was that Do-Jin had zero intention of feeding that curiosity.

This old man’s eyes are practically spinning. If this drags on, the other Purple Ranks will crawl out of the walls and pile on with questions. Time to get the hell out before that happens.

A mountain of tasks waited to be done, so wasting time here wasn’t an option. Do-Jin pulled out the one magic cheat code that worked everywhere inside Elthomagia.

“I would honestly like to sit down, have some tea, and talk, but that will not be possible right now.”

Miguel blinked. “Wh... why is that?”

“My master gave me something to do.”

That part was completely true. She had asked him to bring back anything capable of holding a soul, and the quest window had appeared the moment she said it. Once a quest popped up, that counted as an order.

“Ah... Lady Sion herself.” Miguel’s eyes burned even brighter with curiosity.

Do-Jin cut the momentum before another question could even form. “Yes. But I can’t speak about the details myself.”

“Well... that is only natural, I suppose...” Miguel couldn’t argue with that. Even if the person speaking were his own flesh and blood, anyone who dared gossip recklessly about Sion Grace would be disowned on the spot. That rule applied even to him.

“You already know this involves something personal for her. From the way things look, she would probably prefer this entire matter to stay quiet.”

Miguel fell silent. One wrong push now, one careless question, and he would cross the line into prying into Sion Grace’s private affairs. The thought alone made his stomach twist.

He exhaled slowly, eyes heavy. “Even at this age, my foolishness refuses to leave. Curiosity about magic and knowledge has clouded my judgment. I only wished to know what happened and forgot to consider Lady Sion’s feelings.”

I’m pretty damn sure this is the same old guy who cried back then. I guess he’s emotional as hell, Do-Jin thought.

Seeing someone beat himself up that hard poked at his conscience just a little. As Miguel’s self-reproach continued, Do-Jin only gave a solemn look and a small nod.

“I keep making the same mistakes,” Miguel said quietly. “Lady Sion is so far beyond the rest of us that it becomes easy to forget she is still a person with feelings.”

This entire disaster had started because of that very humanity. Forgetting something like that made a mage look painfully foolish, and in Miguel’s mind, he himself stood at the top of that list.

Better to be blind than blinded by magic, Miguel thought bitterly.

He spiraled deeper into self-reflection while Do-Jin watched in silence.

Yeah. This place is a nest of fucking zealots, just like I thought. I need to get out before this turns into a full sermon.

“Anyway, I should grab what I need and head out. Got somewhere I have to be.”

“Of course,” Miguel replied immediately. “An old man has no right to waste more of your time.”

He stepped aside and shot a sharp glare toward the side. Eloun stood there, completely lost, his whole body radiating confusion.

“What are you doing? A librarian should be guiding others to what they need.”

“Y-yes. Right away.”

Miguel’s gaze hardened, and his thick copper-colored neck muscles twitched in a way that screamed imminent violence. “Eloun!”

“Yes, sir. I will guide him immediately.”

The threat felt real enough that Eloun snapped into motion. Saying anything about procedure or how the assigned librarian was supposed to stay at the post seemed like a fantastic way to get his spine folded in half.

Thank god he didn’t insist on personally escorting me, Do-Jin thought as he followed Eloun deeper into the library.

***

To call the library “massive” would not do it justice. The place felt vast enough to swallow a city. Do-Jin wandered through it for hours, selecting Tier 8 spellbooks one after another.

Meanwhile, Eloun barely held himself together. The combination of crushing curiosity and suffocating tension from watching a Purple Mage elder treat this guy like royalty made his brain feel like it was melting.

Only after Do-Jin finally left with an armful of spellbooks did Eloun collapse into his chair. He stared at the untouched sandwich sitting on his desk and muttered, “Fuck... who the hell was that guy?”

Later that evening, a strict gag order from Miguel spread through the library, which only made Eloun’s curiosity spike even higher. Unfortunately for him, there wasn’t a single person who could give him an answer.