The wizard from the enemy camp stormed into the village chief’s room, his face blazing red with anger and shame. Five minutes later, he emerged with a fresh and neat appearance. There was no trace of liquid anywhere.

 

I was curious if he had dried it with a fireball, but I held back, fearing that a fireball might come flying at me instead of a punch.

 

Instead, I asked Fingvalleth.

 

“Did you dry it with a fireball?”

 

“Haven’t you studied about other… magical towers?”

 

“Well, if you’re just going to research at the Violet Tower, I guess there’s no need to meet…”

 

It was an excuse.”

 

I actually didn’t purposely try to find out because I was afraid it would make me feel deprived if I started looking into other orders, although I learned about fan and air conditioner orders for the comfort of my life.

 

Matapju also advised against it. It’s better not to touch other types of magic and only use illusion magic.

 

It wasn’t that the wicked matapju put a check on the Archmage’s purpose for fear of being NTR’d by another tower. There were reasons for it in its own way.

 

In short… it’s because of the experience points bonus that comes with consecutive use.

 

Even the elderly mage of the enemy tower can learn the magic of the blue tower at any time, but if they do, the experience points bonus for fire magic accumulated over 80 years will gradually decrease. This is why mages delve into only one category.

 

It’s also the reason why being an Archmage who knows how to use all attributes is a fairy tale. If you mess with this and that, you’ll end up being a useless character.

 

Pingvallez explained it simply.

 

“The range each tower manages is wider than you think. For example, in the case of fire magic from the enemy tower, it includes warmth, plant growth promotion worse than the gold tower, healing worse than the priests, and pest control worse than the blue tower, as well as ironing and drying in the same category.”

 

“So, are the other tower guys even equipped with utility…!!”

 

“Why are you so envious…? Illusion magic is already more powerful than necessary, don’t look down on it.”

 

Ignoring Pingvallez’s ignorance of the hardships of illusion magic, I was angry.

 

Looking at the utility display of Senior Scarface, I thought the other tower guys couldn’t do this kind of thing… But it seemed that wasn’t the case. While we were struggling to ‘not feel itchy even if bitten by a mosquito’, those guys were ‘never bitten by a mosquito in the first place’!

 

It seems that in addition to the clean magic that can erase all traces, there was also a convenience magic that evaporates liquid separately.

 

“Also, the violet tower originally had a wider range. Shining the illusion to others, and one more thing. It was a slip of the tongue to summon a being in the illusion like a nightmare or a demon.”

 

Pingvallez quickly finished speaking.

 

I firmly remembered it in my head, but I pretended not to hear it, and just let it go. Having lived in the violet tower for just under 10 years, I had never heard anything similar to an illusion summoning spell.

 

There was no way Matapju didn’t know what Pingvallez knew. If he didn’t say it on purpose, there must be a reason. I trusted Matapju and let it go.

 

“…Magician of the Green Tower, your attire… Who are you?”

 

In the tug-of-war between embarrassment and anger, whether anger won or not, the magician of the enemy tower interrogated us with a look that clearly said ‘I’m angry’ to anyone who saw it.

 

Under the hood turned inside out, the strangely twisted bangs fell down, covering one eye. It’s quite a peculiar hairstyle.

 

As I pondered what answer would be interesting in response to the question of who you are, Pinballé stood forward and pointed at me.

 

“This is Lord Leon Evans. He has come to assess the plight of the suffering commoners and take appropriate measures as a legitimate heir of the Evans Marquisate.”

 

“?”

 

I gave Pinballé a sidelong glance and mumbled as I turned away.

 

“What’s with this sudden elaborate setup?”

 

“Were you thinking of sharing memory loss with the first-time-seen wizard?”

 

“Not really, but… I could just be a passing wizard.”

 

“A fantasy magician and a well-dressed person don’t walk together without a good reason. Who just strolls by in such attire?”

 

“Then blame it on your well-dressed self.”

 

“So I improvised.”

 

“Put on ordinary clothes now.”

 

“If I do that, the crazy wizard might lose control of his libido and try to overpower me.”

 

“What kind of confidence is this now…? Just go along with it for now.”

 

I turned around again.

 

The mage of the opposing tower stared at us with a gaze that seemed to say, ‘What are these guys doing?’ I cleared my throat a few times, adjusted my voice, and began the RP of the youngest son of the Marquis who entered the purple tower due to a lack of inheritance rights, explaining that I had about three elder brothers for emotional support.

 

“Alright, I’m Leon Evans. I didn’t intend to reveal my status, but I guess I got caught in the end. The dignity of nobility has a way of piercing through even thick pockets like a needle.”

 

“…Didn’t your etiquette tutor tell you that?”

 

“That’s not an important fact. I’ll give you the opportunity to reveal your status, wizard. Are you connected to the royal blood?”

 

“…I’m a commoner.”

 

“Seems like it. Judging by your tousled hair and somewhat lacking demeanor. But don’t worry. I’m a noble particularly lenient towards commoners—”

 

Pingballetz interjected from the side.

 

“Lord Leon. The sorcerers affiliated with the Red Tower are considered viscounts by law.”

 

“Indeed, they must have worked hard for their research. Although they may not have shed blood, those who have acquired qualifications through learning should also be duly respected. It seems they couldn’t bear injustice and mustered the courage. They even possess the dignity of a nobleman, although acquired later in life.”

 

“…Let’s drop the pretense and speak freely. I don’t want to be treated as a mere noble.”

 

“Is that so?”

 

“……..”

 

————-

 

A disaster struck a peaceful rural village. A goblin lair had appeared nearby. These green dwarves were easy prey for those skilled in combat, but they posed a serious threat to the potato farmers.

 

A goblin would die if struck with a hoe hardened from farm work. That was true.

 

However, humans had a fatal weakness too – being stabbed with a knife would cause fatal injuries. Moreover, goblins were mostly nocturnal creatures.

 

The plan was to gather funds from the village and send the longest purse-wielding youth to the nearby city to deal with the goblin lair. Surprisingly, this young man was none other than a talented flame sorcerer who had entered the Red Tower and had a younger sister who was a promising prodigy accepted into the academy!

 

Believing in his own genius, the village youth inquired about mercenaries who would undertake the task of subduing the goblin lair. The story goes that he ended up getting a black eye for it.

 

The wicked mercenaries changed the contract from “Subduing the Goblin Lair” to “Protecting the Village” and simply chased the goblins away when they appeared at night. They had been living there for a long time, exploiting the village chief.

 

Just before entering the academy, a magician from the Red Tower who had once wanted to see the faces of the people from his hometown discovered this mess and started questioning.

 

“That’s why mercenaries are no good. They’re dirty, vulgar, foul-mouthed, and rude!”

 

As I looked at the enraged magician from the Red Tower, I recalled the tear-shaped birthmark. He was handsome and neat, forgiving me even after I accidentally hit him with an ogre club.

 

They called themselves second-class adventurers. They claimed that they would receive a first-class title once they completed a legend.

 

“By the way, I’m curious, what class are those mercenaries?”

 

“They call themselves third-class, but they’re probably lucky if they’re fourth-class.”

 

“Sure about this?”

 

“Absolutely. No aura, no physical enhancement, and I wasn’t aware of me preparing any magic. At best, I’m a level 1⋯⋯.”

 

The mage from the enemy tower said, counting on his fingers.

 

Indeed.

 

A proper noun I didn’t know came up. Perhaps it’s a term that evokes thoughts of game characters. Quite intriguing. I should ask Pingvales when I have time.

 

When I cast the illusion magic just now, it smoothly infiltrated the mercenaries like fingers into whipped cream. It was surprising even to me.

 

It seemed like I could cast a permanent illusion magic if I set my mind to it. Like having the taste of radish in meat for a lifetime or seeing a man as a woman.

 

There was some resistance from the mage in the enemy tower. The mental barrier was thin but there were about two of them, though it wasn’t difficult to bypass. It was as troublesome as twirling a pen with one hand.

 

Although the mage in the enemy tower seemed to have the upper hand in the situation, I asked just in case.

 

“What’s your level?”

 

“Why do you ask?”

 

“There were as many as five mercenaries. It was a large number. If you had adequate skills, it’s fine, but if you indulged in a sense of justice recklessly, you need to be careful.”

 

“Unnecessary meddling. Do you really not know what it means to enter the academy?”

 

“I don’t.”

 

“Lord Leon has not left the mansion for ten years due to indulging in secret affairs with the mansion maids. Please understand even if it lacks common sense.”

 

Pingvales added an extra attack at the perfect timing. The content of the extra attack is one thing, but did the setting get messed up? When did the guy who hasn’t left the mansion for ten years go into the purple tower?

 

I went in, grabbing my ankle, thinking I couldn’t be the only one who was affected.

 

“That maid is the pink-haired one in front of us. It’s exhausting to guard every night. The reason I followed him, saying I’ll travel the world alone, is that. Lately, he’s been enjoying the taste in the realm of indulgence and bringing in other women⋯⋯.”

 

“Do I really want to know about your s*x life?!”

 

While arguing with Pingvales, I organized my thoughts. Trapped in the purple tower, I didn’t know how much combat power I had. I did cast illusion magic on the 1st princess who reached the realm of enlightenment, but it was hard to gauge as I borrowed the power of various magic circles, potions, and money.

 

While getting along well, they asked each other in sign language about the level of the academy students. Ping Ballet’s level is like a third-class mercenary, and the enemy tower magician in front of them seems to be around that level, they replied with gestures.

 

From what I’ve heard, I can win up to the level of a third-class mercenary.

 

The reason I’m now checking my strength is simple. It’s because I’m about to take on the role of a professor at the academy. Depending on my strength level, it will either be ‘Surviving in the Academy’ or ‘Breaking the Academy with Fantasy Magic.’

 

If I become weaker than the students on the topic of taking on the role of a professor, what should I do? I’ll beg and say, ‘Please, let me experience fantasy magic just once.’

 

From Noble mtl dot com

 

But fortunately, I felt like I could easily overwhelm the student level.

 

Of course, there’s probably one character who follows the rules of the academy, like a student council president who is strong enough to win awards. If I just watch out for those guys, I think I can do well.

 

Nodding my head, I concluded the conversation.

 

“You’re right, your courage is commendable.”

 

“I wasn’t trying to seek your approval…”

 

“The problem lies in what comes next. What are your thoughts on how to handle it? Whether it’s driving out mercenaries or cleaning up the goblin lair, I can lend a hand.”

 

“I don’t even know what kind of person you are, so how can we cooperate? Fine, I’ll burn down the goblin lair with my own hands, and I’ll show the mercenaries what it feels like to face me!”

 

The enemy tower magician, seemingly unable to control their emotions, swung their staff around and confidently walked out of the village chief’s house. I faced Ping Ballet.

 

“What are you going to do?”

 

“I’m going to follow along.”

 

“You said you were trying to find your memories.”

 

“I may not remember, but that magician could have been my childhood friend. And I like characters like that. Those who are on the side of justice.”

 

“You’re so lewd.”

 

“You saw them scanning their thighs. Please reflect on yourself…”

 

————-

 

“Follow me──”

 

“We! Just happen to be going in the same direction by chance.”

 

“And our walking speed just happens to be the same.”

 

“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”

 

The magician from the enemy tower seemed to be very annoyed by our unauthorized company. However, the reason we followed her was not just for amusement. It was for a rescue mission.

 

That brave magician wasn’t worried about losing to the goblins in a fight.

 

When a group of mercenaries with questionable character got in the way of their opportunity to legally obtain provisions, would that bold magician just politely step back and say, “I’ve burned all the goblins to death, so get lost!”? No, she wouldn’t. Furthermore, the mercenaries hit by her magic and driven out of the village didn’t return until we finished our conversation. They didn’t just leave the village as comrades, I think.

 

“Is it an ambush?”

 

“It’s probably an ambush.”

 

“?”

 

It seemed like there might be more prey than just goblins.