Magician in Type-Moon

Page 515

That was a world outside, a scene that didn't exist in that labyrinth at all.

Even when the sky is covered by dark clouds and the rain is falling incessantly, the boundless vastness still gives people a sense of awe.

The boy had never imagined that standing on the ground and looking up at such a vast sky would be such a profound experience.

For him, this scene was once a dream he could never reach, but now, as he finally stood under this sky and felt the overwhelming vastness, he couldn't help but feel a sense of awe.

Although it had become a habit, he no longer frequently looked up at the sky, nor did he feel the shock and excitement every time he looked up, but at this moment, a certain emptiness in his heart was stirred up again.

Hartres seemed to notice the boy's silence, he chuckled softly, and then said:

Even so, the Clock Tower is still a small world. Although you have taken different paths, you will eventually meet again.

The boy lowered his head, but a hint of unease was visible in his eyes.

In that instant, he suddenly understood the meaning behind Hartres's words, but he also felt a sense of heaviness:

"……is that so?"

He suddenly realized that this "world" on earth was far too vast, so vast that he couldn't even comprehend it in a familiar way.

Of course, he rationally understood that things related to magic only accounted for a very small part of this land.

This world is governed by scientific "reality," and heretics who believe in magic can only survive by relying on each other.

Nevertheless, even now, when we've become completely accustomed to it, this sky is still vast.

Is it a form of willfulness to stand under the sky you once so deeply longed for and still feel lonely?

Chapter 571 A Failed Deal (4k)

"Oh dear."

Hartres suddenly turned his head, his gaze piercing through the drizzle, fixing on the distant end of the road. There stood a familiar figure.

She carried no umbrella, letting the drizzle soak her white hair, the raindrops sliding down her robes as if she didn't care. That nonchalant attitude towards the fine fabric getting wet exuded a strong sense of confidence and composure, as if she were declaring in this way that she followed traditional London etiquette, or—her figure was part of the new London rules.

She was an elderly woman with white hair.

With a bright smile, she gently raised her wrinkled hand to greet them: "Hi, Dr. Hartracey."

"So it's Lord Baruyeleta." Hartres bowed slightly, and the boy hurriedly imitated his gesture.

It was really hard to tell her actual age from the old woman's face, which was marked by the passage of time.

In his childhood memories, during his years in the clock tower, he had already realized that a magician's appearance was often unreliable, and age was just a facade.

When facing this monarch, age is indeed a key factor that cannot be deduced from his appearance.

Lady Balyeleta, as one of the monarchs, her existence has long transcended the constraints of time.

Lord Balyeleta appears in this way from time to time.

To the boy, she was a figure high above the clouds, one of the twelve kings who controlled the clock tower, possessing an unshakeable position.

"I didn't expect you to come so suddenly." Hartres said with a hint of surprise, his tone respectful but also revealing a touch of awkwardness.

"No, no, no, you don't need to worry." Lord Balyeleta waved his hand, his smile carrying a hint of friendliness. "I just happened to be passing by and wanted to chat with you after so long."

In her eyes, etched with the marks of time, the young man sensed a subtle change—the scales that judged the other person's and his own status were swaying between balance and shift.

Her gaze no longer simply regarded Hartres as an equal partner, but rather seemed to be weighing the differences between them.

Although their statuses appear equal, there are actually hidden differences between them.

Dr. Hartress was not a monarch among the ministers of the academy, but the only ordinary person required to be treated as an equal to the other monarchs.

Although his status appeared to be equal to that of other monarchs on the surface, he often bore the heavy burden of exclusion and injustice behind the scenes.

The boy silently sensed this subtle power struggle and began to understand that Hartres was under pressure he had never truly comprehended.

He remembered that when he first rose from the ground, he thought Hartres was one of the twelve kings.

That perception itself is not wrong.

However, upon closer inspection, it becomes clear that even among those kings, there are differences in rank.

Lord Baruyeleta's gaze finally shifted, like a slightly turning scale, sweeping towards the boy.

"Hmm, is this your boarding disciple?" Her voice was relaxed, with a hint of casual curiosity.

“…Yes. I should have introduced myself to you before…” Hartres patted the boy’s back gently, gesturing for him to introduce himself.

The boy took a deep breath, feeling his throat dry. He tried to steady his heartbeat, straighten his chest, and try to appear more mature.

"My name is Kuro."

Lady Baruyeleta's gaze froze slightly, then she let out a soft laugh: "Oh, the pronunciation of your name is quite strange."

The boy felt embarrassed. Although the old woman's smile was not malicious, her gaze at that moment made him feel like a clown.

The monarch before him was clearly no longer interested in him, and his gaze drifted away, returning to Hatres.

"Since I'm passing by, I'd like to confirm something."

Lord Baruyeleta spoke softly, his tone devoid of any urgency, but rather carrying a hint of casual inquiry.

Have you heard about what happened to Lord Kenneth?

"It is said that he participated in a combat-style magic ritual held in the Far East."

Hartres's deep voice showed no surprise, as if he had foreseen this question.

The name immediately came to mind: Lord Kenneth.

Among the monarchs of the Clock Tower, the Kenneth family clearly held a prominent position.

That prodigy young man, with his exceptional talent, had broken records multiple times at a young age and became one of the leaders of the mineral Kokishua.

Moreover, it is rumored that he also obtained the position of Level 1 Lecturer of the Spirit Summoning Department "Eurekas", becoming a true all-rounder.

The boy's thoughts drifted away, recalling the rumors he had heard:

That Mr. Kenneth began his legendary career before he was even ten years old, and is still known as a "child prodigy" to this day.

The word "genius" often echoes in the Clock Tower environment, and it has become a unique label for the young man in the field of magic.

"So that's how it is. Genius is indeed the word used to describe this kind of person." The boy muttered to himself. Although these things had nothing to do with him, he still felt a sense of awe.

Lord Baruyeleta continued, his tone laced with casual sarcasm:

"That topic is quite widely discussed in the Clock Tower. Kenneth seems to be getting a bit tired of his reputation in the research field, and he probably wants to add some 'practical' aura to himself through this Far East magic ritual."

Hartres's eyes darkened slightly, but he merely nodded, seemingly unconcerned.

"After all, he is the undefeated prodigy. There is no way he could be defeated in a mere magic ritual in the Far East."

But Lord Baruyeleta chuckled lightly, the smile still lingering on his face, but his tone shifted, carrying a sarcastic ease:

"Although it would be fortunate if he lost. Could he be accidentally taken down by an ambush?" Her words were like sharp blades, precisely piercing the core of the topic, carrying an undisguised provocation.

The boy's heart raced; he could sense the hidden murderous intent in those words.

“Kenneth is engaged to the daughter of Euryphus, the head of the Spellcasting Department.”

Lord Baruyeleta continued, “If things continue like this, the alliance of aristocrats will become increasingly solid. From our democratic perspective, this is quite a headache.”

Her tone suddenly shifted to a kind of helpless humor.

She smiled, her eyes sparkling as she looked at Hartles, then offered a slightly provocative suggestion:

"Oh, what do you think? If the Department of Modern Magic were to formally join democracy at this time, wouldn't that greatly enhance our prestige? You'll have to do us a big favor then, Dr. Hartless?"

“I will pretend I didn’t hear those words.” Hartres shook his head steadily, his voice devoid of any emotion.

The air seemed to freeze for a moment, as if time itself had stopped for a few seconds. Lord Baruyeleta's smile faded slightly, but his eyes still held an unspoken meaning.

"What a pity." Lady Baruyeleta smiled again, as if her previous words were nothing more than a joke.

"However, if you change your mind, just let me know. I've been interested in modern magic for a long time. If you go for neutrality, I'll be so depressed I won't want to leave the house."

Her smile remained bright, but it couldn't hide the deeper meaning in her words.

Hartres chuckled softly, with a hint of helplessness: "Don't joke around, they don't even take us seriously."

A glint of something unfathomable flashed in Lady Baruyeleta's eyes, as if she were trying to discern something. She said nothing more, only nodding slightly.

Aristocracy, democracy, and neutrality—these three principles permeate the entire clock tower.

Each side is like a huge web of power, weaving together an unbreakable situation. The Modern Magic Department, as an exception, has not yet belonged to any side. It is this independence that has earned it a certain space to survive.

Hartres has always been a dancer on this tightrope, treading carefully, afraid that he might accidentally fall into the abyss on either side.

Although the Department of Modern Magic enjoys a certain presence, it does not mean that it can safely escape pressure from various forces.

More importantly, this independence is a delicate balance that Hartres, as a non-monarchical academic minister, must maintain.

Otherwise, if he makes any rash moves, he will be met with direct exclusion and suppression—and he knows clearly that he does not have the same leverage as those monarchs with powerful family backgrounds and power to change the situation at any time.

However, a sense of unease stirred within the boy's heart.

His gaze involuntarily swept over Lord Baruyeleta's deep eyes, and a nameless fear began to spread through his heart.

"No way..." The boy's heart suddenly raced.

He suddenly thought of that chilling idea—had the secrets of modern magic been seen through by this old woman, whose name was known throughout the democratic circles?

"Oh dear, what's wrong, little boarding student?"

Lord Baruyeleta's tone suddenly became flippant, as if he had noticed the unease in the boy's expression.

There was a hint of scrutiny in her eyes as she carefully observed the boy's reaction.

"……nothing."

"Please don't frighten my boarding disciples."

The boy shook his head, and Hartres quietly placed his hand on his shoulder.

The boy felt his trembling subside.

Looking at the boy's reaction, Lord Balyeleta chuckled softly.

"Haha, my apologies. If it's convenient, would you mind accepting this as an apology gift?"

She handed over the movie ticket.