The status of a wizard on this continent has a rather peculiar structure.

Like in many other fantasy worlds, wizards generally hold a high status, but when a wizard belongs to a “Tower,” their rank eventually reaches a point where they hold a status comparable to that of nobility.

This isn’t just because of the difference in skill between wizards who are part of the Tower and those who aren’t, but fundamentally because of the Tower itself.

There are only six Towers in this world, and they monopolize the production of various essential goods for the United Kingdom, including high-ranking nobles.

In other words, the combination of a wizard’s combat prowess and the exclusive production of necessary goods elevates the Tower’s power to the level of noble authority.

Moreover, the authority of the Vice Tower Master, who can be considered the deputy master of such a Tower, is said to pierce the heavens.

Despite knowing all of this.

“Isn’t this treatment a bit much?”

Alon looked at the Vice Tower Master with a bemused expression, though his face remained impassive.

She, draped in a blue cloak symbolic of the Blue Tower and with long blue hair cascading down to her waist, leaned her head on one hand, as if bothered by everything in the world, while holding a pen in the other.

Her name was Penia Crysinne.

In Psychedelia, she appears once or twice in the main story as a wizard who, at the young age of 22, had reached the 7th Rank—a ridiculous talent.

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She was also a powerful wizard with an Origin.

However, at this point before the original story begins, she has not yet become the Tower Master and seems to be at the 6th Rank rather than the 7th.

“…As I mentioned before we met, I’ve come to talk about the Shimon.”

“What about it?”

Alon continued, watching Penia wrestle with a stack of papers without even looking at him.

“I can get rid of the Shimon.”

At Alon’s words, Penia’s gaze suddenly shifted, her eyes hysterically staring at his face.

There was a hint of curiosity in her expression.

But soon after, she made a blatantly disappointed face and clicked her tongue.

“Well, if you’re done, you can leave.”

“…I haven’t heard your answer.”

“What answer?”

“I said I could get rid of the Shimon.”

“Ha.”

At Alon’s words, Penia looked at him with a ridiculous smile.

“Excuse me. Who are you again?”

“Count Palatio, Alon.”

“So our Count Palatio says he can get rid of the Shimon?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, I see~ Our Count Palatio can get rid of the Shimon, huh?”

“…Why are you acting like this?”

Alon asked in response to her blatant sarcasm.

“Do you think you’re the first person to say that? Do you think you’re the only one who has come here seeking the treasure you can get by eliminating the Shimon? Hmm?”

Seeing Penia shake her head as if she were completely fed up, Alon spoke up.

“I’m not lying. If you guide me to the Shimon, I’ll show you right away.”

“How many people do you think have said that in front of me?”

“I can definitely get rid of it.”

Alon’s words made Penia suddenly drop the pen she had been holding and frown openly, releasing her magic power abruptly.

Snap!

This wasn’t the implementation of a spell.

It was merely a surge of magical energy.

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The waveform, which was blatantly scattered based on her emotional state, instantly began to cause abnormalities within the office.

The entire room trembled as if an earthquake had struck, and scrolls and parchments on the shelves fell to the ground in an instant.

In the midst of all that.

“Excuse me.”

“It’s starting to come to light that you only became an Count because a bunch of trash conveniently died, and now you’re desperate for a move to turn things around, but you shouldn’t be causing trouble here, right?”

As Penia lowered her voice, filled with hysteria, Alon realized two things anew.

The first was that, despite seeming to be consumed by work, she was surprisingly well-informed about the outside world.

In fact, just as she said, since becoming a Count, he had lived quietly without interfering with the underworld, and rumors about him had started to spread.

The other realization was that the anger that had surged within him, unable to tolerate the way she treated him earlier, had strangely subsided, as if it had been cured.

‘She’s terrifying.’

Alon thought, realizing that despite not having reached the 7th Rank, Penia was clearly a superhuman who had transcended the realm of ordinary humans, as evidenced by the strange phenomena she created with just a scattering of magical energy.

‘I shouldn’t push my luck, or I’ll end up snapped in half.’

Even though he was a 2nd Rank wizard, Alon fully understood that if Penia chose to use her magic, his life would be in danger, so he spoke.

“If you don’t trust me, I’ll stake my entire fortune.”

“What?”

Despite feeling fear, Alon’s expression remained as impassive as ever.

“I mean it. If I can’t get rid of the Shimon, I’ll donate my entire fortune to the Blue Tower. No, since this is a private deal, I’ll hand it all over to you personally.”

“…What nonsense.”

“Of course, you don’t have to stake anything. I’ll be the only one to do so, and I’m willing to swear an oath if necessary.”

“…”

Penia frowned at Alon’s words, but he continued with the same impassive expression.

“This seems like a fairly good deal for you, considering you’d only be wasting a little time. What do you think?”

After a moment of silence, Penia responded.

“Write up a contract.”

***

Penia Crysinne.

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A prodigy who reached the 6th Rank at the mere age of 21, and the current Vice Tower Master of the Blue Tower, following her master, the Tower Master.

She led Alon down to the underground, stopping in front of the door where the Shimon was kept.

“It’s here. Once you open this door, the Shimon will be inside.”

Without hesitation, Alon moved his body to grab the door handle at her words.

“Remember, since we’ve already written up a contract, I won’t go easy on you. If you fail, the entire fortune of the Palatio family will be mine. Got it?”

Despite Penia’s warning, Alon calmly turned his head to look at her.

His emotionless eyes, revealing nothing, glanced at her as he spoke.

“There’s no chance of that happening.”

Creak—

With those words, he opened the door without hesitation and stepped inside, and as Penia watched his retreating figure, she recalled the rumors about him.

Once, he was known as the hidden figure behind the Palatio family, who killed all the other heirs to become the Count.

But over the past three years, his reputation had changed significantly.

Now, people thought it was all just a coincidence, that he was simply a lucky fool who became a Count because the other heirs died.

Of course, some still believed he had reasons for not being active, but after meeting him in person, Penia thought the rumors leaned more toward the latter.

‘Judging by his demeanor, he might look first-rate, but it’s already over the moment he decided to close the Shimon looking like that.’

Penia was also aware that Alon’s atmosphere was unusual.

His inorganic eyes.

A face so thoroughly devoid of emotion that it was hard to believe he was an ordinary human.

For a moment, even she was silenced by his presence, but it was only an atmosphere. Having assessed his talent, Penia couldn’t help but laugh.

He has talent, but it’s only slightly better than most.

His mana core is excessively small, and even at best, his rank is just at the edge of the 2nd Rank.

He doesn’t even possess the “Eyes,” which are essential for reaching the 6th Rank.

The Count of Palatio astonishingly lacked any significant talent.

He didn’t have the “Eyes,” a necessary trait for becoming a high-ranking wizard, nor did he have a vast amount of mana.

His magical rank was only at the 2nd Rank, and while his sensory perception was decent, that was all.

Sensing ability, among the many talents a wizard must possess, doesn’t rank particularly high.

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In the end, the very fact that he came here confidently claiming he could eliminate the Shimon with such a mediocre talent only confirmed to Penia that the rumors about him leaned more towards the latter.

She made a pitiful expression as she watched him, then turned her gaze to the ‘rift’ in the center of the room, glowing with a purple light.

The rift, which wizards refer to as the Shimon (Time Gate), is literally connected to some unknown subspace, making it an extremely troublesome phenomenon.

Shimon, which appears primarily in places where magic is heavily used, causes considerable damage to its surroundings.

For example, beings from another dimension might cross over through the rift, or it might suddenly absorb all the surrounding magical energy, creating a mana vacuum in the entire area.

‘I heard they tried various methods to erase the Shimon in the early days because of this.’

As far as Penia knew, no wizard had ever succeeded in erasing a Shimon.

‘If research on Shimon had continued for a long time, there might have been a chance to find a way to eliminate it eventually.’

But for now, that method did not exist.

In the first place, even if a Shimon appeared suddenly, it would naturally disappear after about one to three months, leaving behind a relic.

Although the principle behind this was still not understood, wizards did not bother to spend time and resources researching methods that showed no promise.

…However, in the case of the Blue Tower, the Shimon that was expected to disappear in a few months had already been causing trouble in the tower’s basement for over two years, without any sign of disappearing.

Penia, lost in these thoughts, watched Alon, who had approached the Shimon without taking any action.

Despite the passage of time, Alon remained motionless.

Just as Penia clicked her tongue and was about to speak—

Tap—

Alon formed a hand seal.

“? “

Penia was slightly intrigued as she watched him suddenly raise his hand to form the Wisdom Fist Seal.

Instead of using a staff as a medium, he used his own hand, employing a method that was considered ‘primitive’ even in ancient magical texts—methods rarely studied, even in academic circles.

“Just come out.”

However, Penia was only mildly curious; she had no intention of giving Alon any more time.

She never imagined that someone using such an outdated method from a strange book could close the Shimon.

But—

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The moment he softly muttered something—

“Ah, just come ou—”

Penia’s irritated words stopped abruptly.

No, not just her words.

Everything stopped.

Her half-open mouth.

Her furrowed, irritated eyes.

Her body.

Even her breathing.

Everything stopped.

And then—

She saw it.

The thing that emerged before the Count.

Screeech—

In front of Penia’s focused gaze, something that was once purely black made an unpleasant sound as it opened its ‘eyes.’

Upon realizing it, she saw that it was an eyeball.

An eyeball with two red rings.

It simply stared at her.

If it had ended there, it would have been fine.

But—

Penia’s ‘Eyes,’ the talent she needed to advance beyond the 6th Rank, instinctively discerned the essence of what was before her.

She didn’t know what it was.

But she understood.

This allowed Penia to grasp one piece of information.

That thing was a concept so simple it could be encapsulated in a single word.

It was—

“Ghh—!”

The moment she began to realize it, Penia forcefully halted her thoughts.

Her magic, which had stopped even her breathing, moved instinctively to cut off her thoughts.

Because she knew.

That thing in front of the Count was something she must never comprehend.

Understanding it would be akin to drinking from a poisoned chalice that would inevitably lead to destruction.

So, at the very moment she stopped thinking, barely remembering to breathe—

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Heh—

The eyeball, which had been staring at her until now, smiled.

Then, with a black hand that had formed at some point, it gently raised its index and middle fingers to her lips.

An absolute command of silence.

Understanding that this was Alon’s demand, Penia, filled with sudden fear, blinked her eyes, and as the eyeball disappeared, the magic ended.

The place where the purple rift had disappeared was now calm, and Alon let out a small sigh.

“It’s done.”

For Alon, who had closed the Shimon countless times in the game and knew how to do it, closing the Shimon wasn’t particularly difficult.

After all, Shimon wasn’t closed with magic, but with a special—

“I—I swear I won’t tell anyone.”

“…? Well, I appreciate that, but there’s no need to—”

“I—I mean it, I swear, I won’t tell a soul. I’m actually very tight-lipped.”

Despite suddenly breathing heavily and even tearing up as she nodded fervently, speaking in formal language, Alon—

“…?”

‘Why is she suddenly acting like this…?’

—could only tilt his head in confusion.