The secret left in the Tower Lord’s chamber, and the true nature of the former Tower Lord.
Quite a lot of time had passed since hearing from Kreutzvalt about the Abyss and the war it caused, yet there was little change in Abelar’s behavior.
He steadily went through the procedures to ascend to Tower Lord, and at the same time, he did not neglect his magic research.
He did not miss official functions and attended them all, so no one would have found anything amiss.
That Abelar Pavlenko was moving together with Kreutzvalt, a specter of the old era.
There was no way they could have known.
Nor that Abelar, who was thought to still be completing his 7th Circle, had succeeded in forming the eighth ring thanks to Kreutzvalt’s counsel.
‘…The 8th Circle.’
Of course, Hio had experienced that process through memory.
It was an indirect experience, but a miraculous encounter.
How many could claim to have even indirectly undergone the process of ascending to the 8th Circle?
He wanted to run to the Magic Tower right away and experiment with this sensation he felt, but that would be greed.
He hadn’t even filled the seventh ring entirely with patterns, nor had he perfectly completed the magic of the 6th Circle.
It was as though he had unintentionally only expanded his vessel greatly.
There was nothing bad about it, but there was no need to rush.
He just needed to take it step by step.
‘So that’s how you form the eighth ring—by utilizing your will.’
In any case, there was no doubt it was a miraculous encounter.
The realm of the 8th Circle was not something taught by anyone, nor could it be learned from books.
The war broke out around that time.
The Abyss, recorded as aberrations, swept across the continent, and the completely unprepared continent was ravaged one-sidedly.
If the Tower Lord, the pinnacle of magical authority, and Kreutzvalt, who had foreknown the Abyss’s invasion, had not moved together, the damage would have been far more catastrophic.
No matter what anyone said, that much was certain.
“Prepare to go to Arilleya next.”
At Kreutzvalt’s words, Abelar’s indifferent eyes turned toward him.
“Arilleya? Why should I go to that unremarkable island nation in the southern reaches?”
“It is not unremarkable. It merely pretends to be.”
“Pretends?”
“A Divine Tree grows there. I intend to store the last remaining dragon there.”
“Wasn’t it concluded that the dragons are already beyond saving?”
“Indeed. However, the last dragon strangely still has a future. And what is truly useful is not the dragon, but the Dragon Knight. Save him and send him to Arilleya.”
“…You mean to use him to create a foundation to protect Arilleya. One that will remain unshaken even after hundreds of years.”
Kreutzvalt nodded in satisfaction.
“That is correct.”
Abelar departed for Arilleya that very day.
Magicians’ houses stretched across the entire world, and the Magic Tower oversaw them all, so no preparation was necessary.
The memories of this period passed quickly, as if they were not very important, so they could not be examined in detail, but it was Abelar who had met Legarda and installed permanent magic circles in Arilleya, personally laying with his own hands the groundwork that allowed the mysterious island to remain shrouded in a veil for a thousand years.
By that point, there were countless magicians who followed their will, aside from the two of them.
Each and every one of them was a powerhouse of at least the 6th Circle.
Those possessed of both the skill and experience to lead an entire school of magic.
They had begun to acknowledge and follow Abelar.
Because Abelar’s exploits were immense.
As if he had foreknown these events, he knew how to deal with aberrations, what their weaknesses were, how magicians should fight, and how they should act.
Even those who were quickest to move and doubt his capacity as Tower Lord were completely captivated.
Thus, those great magicians gathered one by one under Abelar.
Of course, even then, they did not know of Kreutzvalt’s existence.
The one who had planned all of this and stood behind Abelar.
No one knew he was a master of black magic who had supposedly died hundreds of years ago.
“Next is Akaida. They say it is on the brink of annihilation, so your presence will be of great help. Pavlenko.”
His information network was so uncanny that he pinpointed exactly which city in which nation was most in peril.
It was only natural that Abelar, moving immediately according to his words, became the hero of the continent.
Had he not appeared like a hero in the most dangerous areas and saved countless people?
He solidified his position as Tower Lord, and his fame spread so widely that there was scarcely anyone on the continent who did not know of him.
But the continent was vast, and the Abyss was more terrible and tenacious than imagined.
Despite Abelar’s exploits, countless villages and cities were being tainted by the Abyss, several a day.
It was around then that Abelar’s serious doubts began.
“Head next to the city of Lukaidan in Berden. It is expected to be the next target of the aberrations.”
“…Lukaidan in Berden?”
“That is so. It is thought to be the most dangerous place.”
“Then this time as well, I shall be able to save many people.”
“Indeed.”
“To the extent that I can barely save them, desperately exerting my full strength in a dramatic crisis, right?”
This was the evidence.
The places Kreutzvalt pointed out were always like that.
Crises that Abelar could barely stop somehow if he exerted his full strength.
Environments where Abelar’s ability, his power, his magic could not help but stand out.
The most perfect conditions to become a hero.
The places Kreutzvalt told him to go were always such places.
“Do not think too deeply. It is merely the result of excluding places that appear hopeless.”
That was why he went to Basterion.
Instead of heading to the city of Lukaidan in the Berden Empire as Kreutzvalt said, he judged for himself and headed to Basterion, the Kingdom of Knights.
He went to Basterion after hearing the earnest plea of a mediocre king.
And the result was something Hio had also seen before.
The fall of Basterion.
Seeing it again, it was truly an absurd force.
The Abyss’s forces, the legion of aberrations that had appeared in Basterion’s final battle.
With four dragons tainted by the Abyss at the forefront, the Abyss pressed in from all sides.
It was a scale unseen on any other battlefield.
As if they had resolved themselves.
As if wanting to serve as an example.
…As if to say that his choice had caused this result.
“You went to Basterion instead of Lukaidan.”
“…”
“That is why they all died. Both Basterion and Lukaidan.”
If he had gone to Lukaidan as Kreutzvalt said, he could have saved hundreds of thousands again.
Everyone died because of one uncertain doubt.
The residents of Lukaidan too.
And perhaps the Kingdom of Basterion as well…
“Do not doubt henceforth. Is this not the continent’s crisis?”
Therefore, there was nothing more he could do.
The continent faced an unprecedented crisis, and moving according to Kreutzvalt’s words was the best course.
Now, not only the mages of Tetradia but all the people of the entire continent were looking to Abelar himself.
He could not withdraw on a mere thought that something was suspicious and wrong.
It was a gamble with the fate of the continent or the destruction of nations at stake.
“This is where you must go next.”
And so he continued to move.
Without resting for a moment, he traversed the entire continent and fought against aberrations and the Abyss.
His fame rose to heights beyond which it could not rise further, and every nation and city begged Abelar to stay even for a moment.
But he could not.
He had to go where Kreutzvalt designated.
Because if he did not, inevitably tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands would die, and the worst outcome would unfold.
That day too, it was on the way back to the Magic Tower after saving another city.
Kreutzvalt began muttering to himself in front of Abelar.
“Strange. His fame has risen to levels beyond which it cannot rise further, so why is there no change?”
Abelar could not tell what he meant.
“Fame should be the key… but the other Pavlenkos are nothing but empty shells.”
From the gaze Kreutzvalt fixed on him as he spoke, Abelar sensed intuitively.
“So it is still not yet time.”
That a change would occur.
That Kreutzvalt had resolved upon something.
And his expectation proved correct.
“Pavlenko. I believe it is time to execute that plan.”
According to Kreutzvalt, the only way to save the crisis-ridden continent.
It was the method of becoming a suicide squad and crossing directly over into the Abyss.
Tetradia, the core of magical strategy and military might.
The plan to teleport the entire city to the center of the Abyss and destroy the root itself.
It was the method the primordial dragons had sought to employ, and a plan Kreutzvalt could formulate only because he knew of that plan and the passageway for it.
But why now of all times?
“Now is the perfect opportunity. The dragons have all perished. Knowing this, the Abyss is pouring all its strength into ruthlessly invading and ravaging the light, and so we shall strike at its opening.”
It sounded plausible at a glance.
Of course, even if it had not sounded plausible, there was nothing Abelar could do.
Despite being a great mage who had reached the realm of the 8th Circle.
Despite being the youngest Tower Lord, a figure acclaimed as one born for magic.
What meaning did it hold if the world would not acknowledge it?
When he came to his senses, the continent was on the brink of destruction.
The continent itself was what held Abelar hostage.
“Now, bring all the members of the suicide squad. Let us execute the plan.”
Even in such circumstances, Kreutzvalt’s expression, actions, tone, and emotions were no different from their first meeting.
“Wait… just wait a moment.”
Therefore, the one he visited right before executing the plan was Len Hank.
His true teacher, who had saved Abelar and taught him about magic and the world.
Of course, from Len Hank’s perspective, Abelar was likely no longer a disciple.
He was a selfish human who had turned a blind eye to millions he could have saved under the pretext of saving the continent, but even so, he was Abelar’s only teacher.
He was the one who had always taught that humanity came first.
Because Abelar felt he now understood, if only a little, what that meant.
Abelar left behind Len Hank, who ultimately refused to bend his stubbornness, and stopped by the Tower Lord’s chamber one last time.
“…”
Only after sitting before that desk and jotting something down did he finally go to find Kreutzvalt.
“Are all preparations complete?”
“…Yes.”
“It seems your teacher ultimately made a meaningless choice.”
“Perhaps.”
“Straighten your expression. We are the suicide squad. Someday, everyone will praise and glorify this glorious expedition.”
“Yes.”
Amid the empty exchange, Kreutzvalt’s and Abelar’s eyes met.
“Hehe… yes, let us go.”
It is impossible to know exactly what Abelar was thinking at that time.
However, Abelar must have predicted his own future to some extent.
It is certain that he alone had uniquely guessed at Kreutzvalt’s true identity and plan.
Yet for what reason had he silently followed Kreutzvalt toward the end of the world?
Was it because the continent was held hostage?
Or because he had another plan of his own?
“To the true Abyss.”
To find that out, he would have to go to the Abyss once more.
He would have to search for the suicide squad at the end of the world.
[The ‘Gate of Veltesia’s Memory’ has ended.]
[Returning to Abyss — ’71st Floor’.]
With those final memories, Hio’s eyes snapped wide open.