Chapter 5
“Oh no, you had your hair tied so nicely…”
Nivellia brushed the dirt off her clothes with her tiny hands and replied with a shrug.
“It’s fine. No one cares.”
“I care—because I was the one who did your hair.”
Do you not like the style?
While Deter felt a faint twinge of defeat, Soles approached the mages standing guard outside the Mage Tower.
The tower was incredibly tall, with a base so wide it was hard to grasp its full curvature. Two mages stood before the vast entrance of the first floor.
With their broad builds and sharp uniforms, they looked more like knights than spellcasters.
“……”
Nivellia instinctively stepped behind Soles.
He reached his arm behind him and gently patted her, as if to calm her nerves. Though she was usually wild and unruly, she could be quite shy with strangers.
“It’s okay. They’re mages, not knights—they don’t carry swords.”
“…Okay.”
Soles greeted the guards.
“Hello. We’ve come on an errand from our grandmother.”
Deter, who had been waiting behind them, pulled out a round nameplate made of solid gold.
Upon confirming it, the guards silently stepped aside and opened the way.
“Please proceed to the 13th door. That will take you directly to the Archmage’s quarters.”
As soon as they stepped inside, Nivellia and Soles gasped.
“Snow…!”
“Snow!”
Snowflakes were gently falling from the shadowed ceiling above.
The interior looked like a palace made of ice—blue, translucent, and otherworldly.
Mages glided around on bladed shoes or built snowmen that radiated something… sinister. Each snowman had purple circles and black buttons stuck where the eyes should be.
“Oh my,” Deter said as she lightly tapped the icy floor. Some spell had been placed over it—it was cold, but not slippery.
“Young Master, Young Miss. Just in case, please take my—NINI! Don’t lick that!”
In the blink of an eye, Nivellia had bent down to lick the floor.
Deter hurriedly scooped her up, but Nivellia wriggled with determination, trying to taste the ice no matter what.
“…It’s yucky.”
Defeated, Nivellia’s lips drooped into a deep frown.
“Of course it is. People walk all over it with their shoes.”
“Deter, you can never take your eyes off Nini,” Soles muttered, wiping her mouth with a handkerchief.
He hadn’t done much, and yet he already felt exhausted.
“I’ve been by the Young Miss’s side for four years, and still—I never know what to expect. But that’s what makes every day fun.”
“Heehee, really?”
“I really do admire your bright personality.”
On the first floor of the tower were many doors. Mages used them to travel between floors.
But the one marked “13” had no one nearby.
“What’s this?”
Nivellia pointed at a button next to the door.
“That’s an elevator. If you press the button, the doors open.”
“Nini wants to press it!”
“Use your fingers. Not your tongue.”
Somehow, she managed to press the button with her hand. Ding! The doors slid open to both sides.
“Ooh.”
Nivellia peeked into the small room inside, wide-eyed. It could barely hold fifteen people.
“It’s smaller than a bathroom.”
“Really is.”
“I think if we press this, it’ll take us to the Archmage’s office.”
Soles pressed a button on the inner wall. The doors closed, and suddenly they felt their bodies lift.
Startled, Nivellia clung tightly to Deter’s arms.
“Th-this feels kinda weird…”
Deter gently patted her on the back.
Less than five minutes later, the elevator doors opened.
A rush of old wood scent greeted them. Unlike the ice palace of the first floor, the Archmage’s quarters at the very top of the tower were filled with books. The warm scent came from solid wooden furniture.
“Excuse us,” Soles called out hesitantly.
“Master of the Tower, are you here?”
“Yeah, over here.”
A voice floated out from behind a mountain of books.
Soon, a man with youthful features emerged.
His long violet hair flowed loose, and his black eyes looked tired and disinterested.
“So the Deiamor brats have arrived,” murmured Magia, the Archmage, with his usual listless tone.
Soles stepped forward and bowed politely.
“Hello, Master Magia.”
“Right. You must be the eldest—Soles, correct?”
“You know me?”
Startled at being recognized, Soles blinked.
Magia, amused by the reaction, explained casually.
“You’re the miracle of House Deiamor. You don’t look like your grandparents. That’s why I like you.”
He reached into a drawer and pulled something out.
“Here. Candy that changes flavor every minute. I’ll give you three.”
“Th-thank you!”
“And so polite, too.”
His gaze naturally drifted to the girl beside him—Nivellia.
For a brief moment, a strange glint flickered in Master Magia’s eyes—something like a swirl of mixed emotions—but it quickly faded as he sighed with a pitying look and frowned.
“Ugh… you really are your grandmother’s clone.”
“Henlo!”
For once, Nivellia was the first to cheerfully speak up.
“Nini, when you greet grown-ups, you’re supposed to say hello politely.”
“I don’t do that stuff!”
“That’s fine. You just focus on growing up healthy.”
Magia didn’t seem to expect manners from her anyway.
“How’s the little kitty? No injuries?”
“I licked the ice earlier and it was yucky. I’m upset and sad.”
Nivellia stuck out her tiny tongue with an exaggerated bleh.
“…Don’t tell me—you actually licked the first floor?”
Magia stared at the little whirlwind in disbelief.
“Um, Master Magia,” Soles cut in, ending the odd tension.
“We’re here on behalf of our grandmother.”
“Oh, right. You said you’re on an errand?”
With a flick of his fingers toward the sofa, the books and clutter piled around it floated gently into the air, rearranging themselves neatly into the empty spaces.
“Whoa…”
Soles couldn’t help but be amazed.
Seating himself with a lazy flair, Magia crossed his legs and asked grandly:
“So? Why are you here?”
“Our grandmother wrote this letter,” Soles explained, pulling it out. “She found a pink poison mushroom in the forest and wants to sell it to the Tower.”
Magia’s eyes lit up as he scanned the letter.
“…That’s a rare find.”
He stroked his chin.
“That’s the Pink Antler Deathcap. Incredibly toxic. Just touching it could kill you.”
Hard to find, harder to handle—it was the kind of rare item Magia was happy to buy.
“But the information guild wants to buy it too,” Soles added carefully.
Magia clicked his tongue.
“So Della’s grown up, huh? Feels like just yesterday she was bawling her eyes out, clinging to your grandmother’s skirts.”
He snorted with laughter, shaking his head at the memory.
But Nivellia scowled, her bottom lip jutting out in protest.
Deter blinked, confused by her sudden flash of hostility.
“Grandmother said she’ll sell it to whoever offers the higher price.”
“And how much did they offer?”
“We don’t know. She said she’d send a letter with the offer.”
“Ah…”
A private bidding war, is it?
Magia didn’t know whose idea it was—but he had to admit, it wasn’t a bad one.
“Fine. I’ll write my offer in a letter too.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You can go now. Good work coming all this way. Stop by the front desk and pick up a souvenir.”
As soon as he finished speaking—ding!—the elevator doors opened.
The children turned to leave after politely saying goodbye, but just then—
“Wait—Miss!”
Nivellia wriggled free from Deter’s arms and jumped down.
“Eek!”
Deter didn’t have time to stop her.
“Take this!!”
Whap!
Nivellia’s tiny hand smacked the Archmage’s backside.
Magia’s eyes widened, unable to even scream. He turned, aghast, to face his tiny attacker.
Nivellia growled.
“Meanie!”
“Nini!”
Soles grabbed her in a panic.
Deter scooped up both kids and ran straight for the elevator.
But Nivellia wasn’t done.
Her tiny hand shot into the air, middle finger raised like a tiny tower.
As the doors closed, Magia’s furious voice echoed from above.
“YOU BRAT!! WHO RAISED YOU—!?”
But it was too late. The elevator was already descending.
“Whew… my heart’s still pounding,” Deter sighed, surprisingly calm.
“NINI!!”
Unlike her, Soles was furious.
“You can’t just go around hitting people!”
“But he was being mean…!”
“When did Master Magia insult—”
“Not me!”
Still huffing, Nivellia fumed.
“He insulted Della! She’s pretty! She’s kind! He was mean!”
“Della? You mean Lady Della from the information guild?”
The three of them picked up their souvenirs on the first floor—a model of the Mage Tower and a cheeky pamphlet titled: “You Can’t Be a Wizard Easily, But You Can Pay to Boss One Around!”—before hurrying to their carriage bound for the city square.
All the while, Nivellia steamed.
“Ugly man said bad things about Della! He’s evil!”
“Nini… do you even know Lady Della?”
“She’s my subordinate! I have to protect her!”
“…Isn’t she, like, the same age as Grandma?”
“Roughly, yes,” Deter replied with a nod.
The truth was, very little was known about the reclusive Della, founder of the intelligence guild. Her identity and records were tightly sealed.
Only one fact stood confirmed:
Della was once a hero who had served under the infamous “Blood Saint”—none other than Marchioness Muniel Deiamor herself.
That alone had been publicly acknowledged… by Muniel.
After safely finishing their errand, the Deiamor siblings returned home and reported to Muniel.
“Oh ho ho! She really smacked the Archmage’s butt?”
Muniel laughed uproariously, her dignity forgotten. Nivellia flashed her a thumbs-up in victory.
“…However, Nivellia.”
Muniel’s laughter faded, her face growing serious.
“Is it okay to hit people, yes or no?”
“Yes!”
“……”
“Wait… no?”
Nivellia averted her eyes.
But Muniel fixed her with a stare so firm, she couldn’t escape.
Finally, the little girl let out a nervous whimper.
“B-but…”
“And I heard you stuck your middle finger up, too?”
“…Yeah.”
“Where did you learn that kind of rude behavior—”
Muniel suddenly paused.
“…Wait. Was it me?”
