Chapter 19
The Tower Master rummaged through his robes and pulled out a pocket watch identical to the one he had handed her.
She blinked. Unlike hers, which bore only a simple engraved circle, the old man’s watch had intricate geometric patterns inscribed within the circle.
“When you’re able to properly command the spirits, when spirit arts truly become yours, your watch will make its judgment. The plain circle on your current one means you’ve yet to become a full-fledged spirit user… Yes, to put it simply, you’re still an apprentice.”
She stared between the two pocket watches in silence. Catching her gaze, the Tower Master, who had been chuckling softly, suddenly waved his hands in alarm.
“Apprentice or not, as long as you carry the pocket watch, you’re recognized as a spirit user of the Northern Tower. You can conduct research like any other. The only real difference is that you won’t be dispatched outside the tower to deal with monsters or other missions.”
She turned her gaze toward the butterflies, fluttering their wings in a crimson haze.
She had sensed it, even before she lost control of them, that forming a contract with spirits wasn’t the end.
She remembered the man and Ledin saying it was even more so because her spirits were Nyx.
That it was natural. That what was strange was that they hadn’t rampaged immediately upon contracting.
She pressed her lips together.
“There’s no need to rush building your self-control, We may be short on people, but the Tower’s not that desperate. It’s better for you to take things slow. More importantly, dark spirits aren’t easily tamed.”
Her eyes slowly lowered.
Even though she had gained the power of spirits, she was far from mastering them. no, they were mastering her. That was not what she wanted.
They said spirit users and spirits are like one body, but that didn’t apply to her.
She could feel their emotions. They could feel hers. But….
— [Asila, no.]
— [We must attack.]
— [It’s dangerous.]
She remembered how, even when she commanded them to stop, they ignored her will, how their aggressive intent nearly consumed her.
Being overtaken by emotions not her own was no pleasant experience. In the end, the only thing that stopped them was her Word of Power, a force not even properly wielded, born of a moment of emotional collapse.
If not for that Word, would the butterflies have stopped?
She wasn’t sure. The memory of that moment before she collapsed was hazy, and trying to recall it made her head pound.
Instinctively, she pressed her temples. The butterflies, as if sensing her distress, gently landed on her shoulders.
They were the ones who had saved her when Sarsha tried to kill her. The ones who had made her a spirit user.
Yet…
Drawing in a long breath to settle her tangled thoughts, she looked at the butterflies with a cold, detached gaze.
She was sorry to them, but what she wanted was her own power.
Not to carry a colossal force that could devour her at any moment.
The sooner, the better. Taking her time was a luxury she couldn’t afford.
She clenched her fist.
“…I’ll do it.”
“Hmm?”
“I’ll start now.”
The Tower Master blinked in surprise. Even Ledin, who had been silently supporting her, seemed taken aback.
She was the one surprised by their reactions.
As she quietly looked between them, the Tower Master hesitantly opened his mouth.
“I told you to take your time not just for your sake, but because right now, there’s no one who can fully handle your power. You said you used the Word of Power unconsciously?”
She nodded slowly, dazed.
“As you’ve heard, dark spirits are immensely powerful and hard to control. You’d need someone as strong as me, or one of the other Tower Masters, to suppress your power and help you build control. But I’m due to leave on a mission tomorrow. And while Ledin is strong…”
The nymphs fluttering beside Ledin let out a squeal and quickly hid behind his back.
“My nymphs are terrified of Nyx. I can’t be near them for long.”
Ledin said, declining politely.
She bit her lip.
“…Still, I understand your resolve. At the very least, I’ll try to arrange something within a month…”
“Oi, old man. You gone senile?”
A rough voice cut off the Tower Master before he could finish. She blinked at the unexpected vulgarity.
The man who had been lounging against the wall strode over, slung an arm casually around her shoulders, and plopped down on the sofa.
“…Would you kindly remove your arm,” Ledin growled from behind, but the man simply raised both hands with a playful “whoa there,” his crimson eyes glinting.
“Why else do you think I’m here?”
Ledin’s face twisted in displeasure.
“Absolutely not, Asila. Do not accept this.”
She stared blankly at the man grinning at her.
“Let me formally introduce myself, sister. I’m Kallios, Tower Master of the Western Spirit Tower. If you want, I’m willing to stay in the North until you fully master those creatures.”
Her lips parted slightly in disbelief.
He was a Tower Master?
“Asila isn’t your sister,” Ledin said coldly.
“We’re both Nyx contractors. Makes us practically family,” Kallios replied with an easy smile, as if daring her to choose.
“…And the Western Tower?” the old man asked warily.
Kallios waved a hand.
“I’ve got a capable deputy. It’s not the first time I’ve left the seat empty.”
The Tower Master considered this, then nodded slowly.
“Diarun!”
Ledin snapped in protest, but the old man raised a hand to stop him.
“Even if we reach out to the East, it’s unlikely they’d help. And you know as well as I do, Kallios is far better than that Tower Master. Of course, the decision is yours, Asila.”
Crrrk.
The sound of Ledin grinding his teeth was unmistakable, but he said no more. Apparently, the mention of the Eastern Tower Master was enough to silence him.
“Well then, what will you do?”
Her first impression of Kallios, when he smashed through the building, had been intensely unpleasant. But she remembered too how effortlessly he had subdued the butterflies.
She felt sorry toward Ledin, but above all, she was in a hurry.
She nodded.
The corners of Kallios’s eyes crinkled into a gentle arc.
“Just know this, sis: I’m gonna train you hard. No crying, alright?”
Just a little, only a little, if not for that ominous feeling, she might have been satisfied.
* * *
“…The Grand Duchess still hasn’t returned?”
It had been a week since the Grand Duchess, the imperial princess, Asila threw down the divorce papers and vanished.
The Grand Duke of the North, Karl von Ludwig, frowned and let out a sigh as his steward shook his head.
What an unbearably shameless woman.
He understood she was angry.
And yet, ironically, she had no right to be.
Yes, someone could very well die falling from the fifth floor. He had witnessed Sarsha push her himself.
In that moment, the roles of victim and perpetrator were clear.
Yes, in that moment alone.
—Do you know what she said to me, Karl? She said it didn’t matter since he didn’t die. My child! My Serb! Hhic…
But it was self-defense. To say something so vile in front of a mother whose child had been slowly poisoned over time, how could anyone utter such words?
He had personally asked Sarsha to grow close to the princess and child. He had arranged for them to meet.
How could someone, wearing the face of a human, poison an infant in secret?
She had escaped from the attic where he had confined her as punishment and said that to Sarsha.
If that wasn’t self-defense, then what was?
Sarsha was a delicate, powerless woman.
He, who had been tending to Sarsha and Serb all this time, knew better than anyone how her mental state had deteriorated.
He recalled her pale face as she recounted all the humiliating things the princess had said, gasping through tears when he finally urged her to tell him everything.
The once-radiant woman who had enchanted him now looked like a shadow of herself. In the month their child had been ill, she had grown gaunt.
Where her face used to bear a smile, only a brittle expression of indifference toward the child remained.
The child’s condition was improving, slowly, but Sarsha hadn’t left her bed since pushing the princess.
And the princess? She hadn’t even been hurt.
She was a mage. Whether instinctively or deliberately, she had slowed her own fall, multiple servants confirmed seeing her descend as if weightless, landing safely on the ground.
Compared to Sarsha’s frailty, the princess’s unblemished body, lying as if peacefully asleep, was almost offensive.
Her presence was growing increasingly unbearable.
Still….
—Duke, please grant the divorce.
—I gave you an answer earlier. Yes, I have a reason.
—Say you’ll go through with it. You hate me anyway.
Why had his eyes been drawn to hers then? Eyes he’d never properly looked into before in all their years of marriage, eyes of brilliant gold.
But the emotions in them stabbed deep into his chest, misery, pain, weariness, despair. Not a single hint of joy.
It was a look he had seen before. Where? When?
He didn’t know why he had agreed to process the divorce papers she had flung at him.
At first, he hadn’t even realized she had disappeared.
Two, three, four days passed before it hit him that he hadn’t seen her once.
When he finally visited what had been their shared bedroom, it became clear.
She was gone.
He hadn’t thought she would leave for good.
He knew her position best, an abandoned princess. A Grand duchess in name only.
No part of the North would accept her.
She would come back.
He would let her return.
But he would hide her somewhere Serb and Sarsha would never see her again.
His vengeance wasn’t over yet.
She had no idea how much he’d always hated seeing those golden eyes, the mark of imperial blood.
Compared to what he had endured in his youth, what she had suffered, and would continue to suffer, was nothing.
Nothing.
No, this couldn’t be the end. He had to do more. No, what was he thinking?
His mind reeled as the memory of her tortured eyes flashed before him.
Why was he taking revenge on her?
A black butterfly, impossible to see, seemed to drift before his eyes.
The dimness in his blue gaze lifted, if only faintly.
His thoughts were a tangled mess, like threads knotted together.
The princess? Where was she now? What was happening?
“Karl!”
Pink hair fluttered, and a sickly-sweet scent filled his nose.
The light in his eyes, returning just a moment ago, faded once more.
What had he been thinking?
Ah, yes.
That damned princess.
Even if she begged on her knees, he would never give her freedom.
Such things were wasted on imperial blood.
Holding the woman he loved in his arms, Karl erased that brief, unfamiliar feeling.
