“You birdbrained bastard!”
Dine pulled out a flaming Magical☆Mace and began pounding Dynamis with it. The birdman—who had a bird’s head in the most literal sense—coughed and hacked, yet shouted with conviction.
“There are heights those without wings can never understand! Anyone without feathers, stay out of this!”
Inian carefully took one step back. She felt as if she was starting to hate this neighborhood all over again.
Watching the central area of the Ivory Tower turn into utter chaos in an instant, Sargasso closed his eyes. Splat. A highly viscous liquid surged up from somewhere and imprisoned Dynamis.
“Sargasso! Have you betrayed me—glubbrblbl!”
After gagging Dynamis’s mouth with water as well, Sargasso finally lifted his head and spoke as if nothing had happened.
“Welcome to the Ivory Tower, stranger. I am Sargasso, the excellent member of the Four Heavenly Kings who governs the Ivory Tower on behalf of the great Eibon.”
“Is it truly being governed?”
It was a pointed remark. Sargasso naturally shoved the water-bound Dynamis off into a corner.
“Graaah! Why!”
“Yes, you must have already heard of our great cause and purpose from Salamandine. Thus, since you already know what we can offer you, tell us what you can offer us.”
Inian gave a confident little huff and smiled. Raising her index finger, she declared,
“Power, it is.”
The corner of Sargasso’s eye twitched. To think she would be that confident in her own strength.
‘I knew she was no ordinary being from the moment the Mother Fairy intervened personally.’
With that level of confidence, she might be a powerful figure who had established a considerable sphere of influence even in another world.
Just as the spirits no longer found on Earth had adorned themselves with titles like Spirit King and Spirit Count, the strong naturally wished to flaunt their power.
“Do you perhaps hold a title?”
“Grand Duke.”
It was no ordinary title. Sargasso, inwardly impressed, gazed at Inian with hollow eyes.
“Are you listed on the Bureau’s watchlist?”
This time, it was Inian’s turn to be impressed. So he had not been exaggerating when he said he governed the Ivory Tower.
‘Does that mean he possesses that much age and experience?’
“I cannot say for my predecessor. But this body has been focused on internal governance, so I have had no reason to clash with the Bureau.”
The truth was a little different. It was simply that most of Lamashtu Holdings’ external activities had to be handled by the demons under her command due to incidents like the machine uprising incited by Ravan, the response to the plague-flesh tsunami led by Ravan, and her duel with Ravan.
Since all of that involved dealing with internal troubles within the duchy, it could be considered internal governance in a sense.
“You have quite an unusual temperament for a demon. If that is the case, there is little need for concern.”
Salamandine looked back and forth between the two of them and shrugged. ‘What exactly is the Bureau?’
“The same goes for you. It is rare to see someone know of the Bureau and still judge it to be nothing much. Even more so if that attitude comes not from arrogance, but from objective analysis.”
“Hmph. Our enemy is the Mother Fairy. Why would we concern ourselves with scraps from beyond the dimension?”
Salamandine reached out and poked Grata in the side. Grata of earth was so huge that even stretching out her arm only let her reach somewhere around his waist.
“Grata. What’s the Bureau?”
“Ah, you still do not know….”
“?”
“It is too much trouble to explain to you… Ask Sargasso after the work is done.”
“Hey!”
The very moment Dine got angry, Dynamis, who had been bound by the shackles of water, beat his wings with all his might and took flight. The birdman burst out through the scattering spray and cried in a frivolous voice.
“Ah, so you know of the Bureau! As expected, your intellect is as exceptional as your noble beauty!”
“So what is it?”
Sargasso once again shoved Dynamis far away and murmured softly.
“They were once those who cooperated with us. Not anymore.”
“…What did you say?”
Those fussy bastards had cooperated with people trying to explore other dimensions? Inian’s eyes narrowed. Sensing her curiosity—or perhaps her suspicion—Sargasso rubbed the back of his neck and answered.
“Our purpose is not to cross dimensional boundaries, but to search for those who disappeared beyond them. In that respect, the Bureau and we were able to come to an agreement.”
“I see. How very fitting of a lazy group that will not lift a finger for domestic chaos.”
“Then, I shall appoint you as our black magic advisor.”
Inian’s expression twisted. Of all things, black magic? Demons usually did have that image, and Dine herself was indeed well versed in black magic in general, but….
She did not want to be lumped together with Ravan.
“…Could I not simply be a magic advisor?”
“Our magical pillar has always been Lord Eibon alone.”
“Then make it soul-summoning advisor instead. Black magicians are nasty and sharp, so I would rather not be involved with them.”
“Is that so? Very well. We shall take your measurements and issue you a uniform….”
It was an initiation procedure overflowing with everyday practicality, far removed from an evil organization. For a moment, Inian wondered if this organization called the “Ivory Tower” was actually a theme park franchise.
“?”
Dine was just as puzzled.
“We had uniforms?”
“…Why do you think I go to the trouble of wearing a suit whenever I take human form?”
“Why didn’t you give us any!”
“I did! You burned yours, Grata tore his apart, and Dynamis refused to wear his because it made his wing joints feel cramped!”
“Haha, what are you talking about? Sargasso, I am always a gentleman who knows how to follow a dress code.”
Dynamis, who had somehow escaped yet again, was dressed in a black-based tuxedo. With even a mask tailored precisely to fit his birdman beak, he wore the full uniform set, looking rather like a medieval plague doctor.
Though his green wings were sticking out.
“Now! I shall take your measurements! Shall we begin by measuring the gap for your wings to pass through?”
“…I shall receive the uniform later.”
***
Inian poured out her distaste for Dynamis, who had clung to her in truly annoying fashion, and her fury toward Grata, who had not so much as twitched when Sargasso told him to keep Dynamis restrained, merely claiming that “there is not enough earth element, so I lack strength.”
After listening to her passionate argument, Ravan nodded.
“Wow, you’re popular. Is it because your face got prettier after all? With your classmates, too. Must be popularity you never got to feel in the Demon Realm. Are you happy, Grand Duke?”
“Shall I ruin you right now?”
After snickering once, Ravan’s face hardened. From here on, the conversation was a little more serious.
“This Eibon kid. Does he look strong?”
“I only saw a statue. How am I supposed to know from that? The statue was wearing a hood too, so I could not even tell whether he had a muscular physiognomy.”
“Do you think I’m asking about a magician’s muscle density? You saw the structure of the otherworld where the Ivory Tower is located, didn’t you? Don’t tell me all you did was run away from that birdbrain trying to lick your feathers.”
Inian was about to snap back at Ravan for saying, “What would a magician build muscles for?” but soon gave up.
That bastard would, whenever he felt like it, use body manipulation to unleash monstrous strength beyond human limits, or employ tactics that enlarged or shrank only part of his body.
He was the one who had beaten down a first-class hazardous creature like a lava-devouring sheep with pure brute strength, and yet he dared say such nonsense?
But even if she rebuked him like that, there was no way that black magician would listen, not even with half an ear. Inian sighed and recalled the structure of the Ivory Tower.
A barrier seeking stability with the four homunculi as its cores. A dual partition that exquisitely blocked off outside and inside while simultaneously making observation of the exterior possible.
And on top of that, the function of a mana reservoir that endlessly accumulated elemental power simply by having the homunculi in their respective positions.
If all of those capacities were combined.
“It appears to be one notch below when you brought out your final armament.”
“Really?”
Tch. Inian inwardly clicked her tongue. He was uncannily quick to notice when his own ability was being underestimated.
“Two moves below. Any more than that risks underestimating it.”
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
Ravan licked his drying lips. It was proof of nervousness. Inian felt something ominous.
“Do not tell me you did not bring it. Or do you simply lack the mana to summon it?”
“I don’t have the mana to summon it, and….”
Ravan trailed off without confidence. It was a very rare sight, and a sign that things had truly become badly tangled.
“The mana I paid to you, I gathered it really quickly compared to the amount, right?”
“That is so.”
“I extracted the mana that was in my artifacts too and handed it over.”
Inian’s mouth fell open in shock. At the longing so intense that he had crippled even the artifacts that were a magician’s final bastion—
…She was not shocked by that. Ravan’s mind had always been a little strange. What shocked her was something else.
“Was the contract fee for drafting the dimensional gate on your behalf not calculated on the condition that you transfer half the ownership rights of your artifacts to me?”
“I never said I’d hand over the artifacts in working order, did I?”
It was the character—no, the demonic nature—of a black magician who had ignored every last bit of depreciation on his artifacts and sold junk at the price of new goods.
“You damn hideous black magic wretch! I shall kill you!”
***
[Senior, the dormitory is noisy. Is that all right, mofu?]
[Leave it be, mofu.]
Meanwhile, the mascots watching the CCTV through their authority as the dormitory landlords—amazingly, they knew how to use the power of civilization in order to avoid drawing suspicion from those who knew of magic’s existence!—ignored the living noises coming from the dormitory.
The reason was simple.
[Ravan seems to have this weird habit of sharing whatever food he makes with other people, mofu. Last time, he gave mugwort rice cakes to Magi Black, mofu.]
It had been confirmed that sharing food was Ravan’s hobby.
Most of the time, Na I-hyeon and the other peer counselor kids received the food Ravan made, and sometimes it was also passed along to the mascots through magical girls.
The sight of him steadily taking care of people for no other reason than having seen their faces a few times was difficult to describe with any word other than hobby.
[Huh, you got some too, mofu?]
[Senior Papirun said he got plenty from Black and that we should all share, mofu. It was delicious, mofu.]
[Why didn’t you save any for me, mofu?]
[You were on internal duty in the Fairy Kingdom then, lazing around by Mother’s side, weren’t you, mofu.]
[Ah.]
Ravan’s hobby had been witnessed frequently besides that. He would brew homemade herbal tea and bring it to share with the peer counselor kids, or make seasoned greens with some strange wild plants. Magi Black had assessed that the fragrance of the sesame oil was bizarrely good.
[Since a neighbor came over, they’re probably sharing something again, mofu. A VIP is coming in on the airport side, so focus on that, mofu.]
***
“Yes, Chairman Charles. I will begin the task you entrusted to me shortly.”
A masked man had arrived at Hikarius Airport.