Genius Warlock

Bang!

Oliver extended a cigar to Philip before channeling his mana into his fingertips, conjuring a flame.

Using the flame Oliver had created, Philip ignited the cigar and took several deliberate puffs.

"Ah… thanks."

Philip exhaled a plume of smoke and nodded in acknowledgment.

Oliver made a nonchalant gesture and proceeded to pour a measure of alcohol into his glass.

Observing this, Philip nodded, swiftly taking the alcohol bottle from Oliver's grasp. By harnessing his mana, he cooled the bottle before swiftly consuming its contents. Despite the bottle's substantial size, it appeared rather modest in Philip's hands, given his towering height of over 2 meters.

"Haah… Thanks again, really. I think I'll be able to live now. I didn't expect you to be carrying a whole crate of alcohol."

Philip gazed at a container brimming with cigarettes and alcohol.

"Thanks to the stories shared by other staff at the Tower, I was able to bring these along,"Oliver responded.

"What kind of stories led you to carry around alcohol and cigarettes like this?"

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"I was told that bringing luxury goods like alcohol and cigarettes is the first step in socializing. This way, I can accommodate the preferences of professors and people around me."

"Hahahahahahahaha-!! This guy is absolutely amazing!"

Philip, who had lost an arm and was now one-armed, burst into hearty laughter, pointing at Oliver with his finger.

Indeed, it wasn't unexpected for him to find amusement.

Even Philip, who struggled with the mist barrier, found it amusing that Oliver, a skillful wizard capable of manipulating and utilizing it, assumed the role of a typical tower staff member—albeit an exceptionally capable one.

The imbalance was unprecedented, enough to induce laughter in anyone.

"Is this something to laugh about now…?"

Amidst Philip's uproarious laughter, a voice interjected with a crack.

The speaker was a wizard from the Life School faction, who had been abducted, narrowly escaped death, and now grappled with tumultuous emotions. The day had been eventful.

"A warlock has infiltrated the tower by concealing his identity… This is a very unfortunate incident!"

The wizard declared, his face reddening. And he was not mistaken.

The Tower stood as a grand establishment founded by wizards of various factions to safeguard their rights and privileges.

It was a realm that commenced with wizards and culminated with wizards.

Yet now, a practitioner of black magic had breached the Tower's defenses by deceiving everyone. Moreover, this warlock had gained infamy in Landa.

It was an extraordinary incident, to say the least.

An incident that warranted retribution, not solely for the involved parties, but for the Tower itself.

Nevertheless, the very individuals who should have exhibited the strongest reactions—Tower leaders Philip and Tilda—displayed minimal response.

"……."

"……."

An undeniable tension pervaded the atmosphere.

Attempting to highlight the situation, the wizard cried out once more.

"General Philip!"

"Quiet."

Amidst the conflicting responses, a voice intervened, laced with both scorn and irritation.

It was none other than Kevin. Seated on a blanket, he opened a mana-heated can of soup and spoke.

"What right do you have to raise your voice in this situation? You're the one who was captured without any response to this situation, saved by a student, and barely survived."

Kevin spoke candidly, his disdain evident.

The truth stung.

Indeed, the wizard's bluster rapidly deflated.

Wizards held great regard for outcomes and appearances.

Of course, the captured wizards, the speaker included, possessed justifications to defend themselves.

An unidentifiable dense mist, a coordinated assault, blood magic surpassing most spells—it would have been peculiar if they hadn't been subdued.

Yet the captured wizards refrained from vocalizing these explanations. All except one.

"Shut up, Red man!"

As Kevin endeavored to take command of the situation, a fellow wizard intervened.

He, too, was a wizard who had been rescued, displaying intense animosity towards Kevin.

"How dare you open your mouth! It's you who brought that filthy warlock into the sacred Tower, isn't it?!!"

The intervening wizard's words held truth, but the timing was deplorable.

"I've felt it since last semester, but the Tower's standards have really fallen. Even doing stupid things like spitting on their own face."

"What?!"

"Take a look at who was saved by that filthy warlock's help, who is wearing a blanket given by that filthy warlock, and who is drinking the potion and canned soup provided by that filthy warlock."

Kevin's voice was now tinged with genuine aversion and disgust.

From Kevin's perspective, censuring Oliver at this moment was tantamount to tarnishing his own reputation. Moreover, it constituted an affront to Philip and Tilda, who occupied esteemed positions within the Magic Tower hierarchy.

All present had availed themselves of the blankets and remedies supplied by Oliver, and none had abstained from the healing potions and canned soups he had offered.

Regardless of the wizards' predisposition towards supremacy, it was only natural for them to recoil at the notion of disparaging Oliver in such circumstances.

The atmosphere was thick with scorn and disdain. In that instant, Philip, raising his sole remaining hand, pacified the agitated assembly.

"Everyone, please, calm down… Kevin, you too."

Kevin reluctantly sealed his lips at Philip's instruction. Observing this, Philip addressed the other wizards.

"Enough, all of you."

"But, General Philip, this is-"

"I said that's enough!"

Philip's voice was resolute and commanding, distinct from the gentle tone he had employed earlier.

Although his voice lacked any magical influence, it resonated with such gravitas that it instinctively subdued those who heard it.

Having witnessed many soldiers in action, Oliver acknowledged that Philip occupied a distinct echelon.

With the situation under control, Philip spoke anew.

"Do you think I'm not aware of the seriousness of this situation?"

"No, that's not it."

"Or do you think that because I hold the honorary title of Grand Master, I'm indifferent to the affairs of the Magic Tower?"

"No, that's not it either, certainly not…"

The wizards who had questioned Oliver were now faltering, their heads bowed in submission, akin to chastised children.

After all, Philip was virtually the Grand Master of the School of Pure Magic, and his title extended beyond mere honorifics.

He held this distinction solely because he already occupied a high-ranking military post—nothing more, nothing less.

The sole individual here with comparable authority was Tilda.

As the air grew chillier and Philip's leadership asserted itself, he spoke anew, taking a swig from a container of chilled spirits.

"Under normal circumstances, we would address your concerns immediately, but not now… The School of Life magic, which was part of the Magic Tower, has committed an act of betrayal that goes beyond that."

No one dared to protest. After all, it was an undeniable truth.

Kevin's actions held significance, no doubt, but they pertained to an individual matter. In contrast, the betrayal by the School of Life Magic constituted an institutional issue, its magnitude beyond comparison.

This betrayal had the potential to severely undermine the Magic Tower's reputation, influence, and authority—perhaps even more, given that it was orchestrated by Theodore, who commanded considerable respect within the Magic Tower.

Depending on circumstances, the very existence of the Magic Tower could hang in the balance.

"That's the thing. We can address Kevin's issue later, but there is no later for the betrayal of the School of Life Magic. So, let's prioritize wisely, as befits wizards."

"But isn't this a matter of trust?"

Despite Philip's words, the wizards remained apprehensive of Oliver.

Their reaction was fueled by hysteria, driven more by emotions than rationality.

Confronted with overwhelming circumstances and an unacceptable reality, their primary urge was to vent their frustrations.

In that instant, someone interjected with rationality, transcending emotion.

"May I say something?"

The individual who spoke was Yareli, the Magic Tower student who had assisted in the rescue alongside Oliver, and also happened to be One Master Tilda's granddaughter.

Yareli had already carved out a reputation within the tower. Thanks to her direct contributions to the rescue efforts, she held a significant influence here.

"To be honest, I was quite taken aback when I found out that Zenon… I mean, Dave had hidden his identity, but apart from that, I don't see any reason not to trust him right now," she remarked.

Philip inquired, "Why do you think that?"

"If he had any ulterior motives, he wouldn't have helped us when his true identity was revealed,"Yareli responded, recollecting how Oliver had rescued her from blood magic and employed his formidable mana to elevate the entire basement to safety.

In truth, if not for Oliver's intervention, the majority of the wizards present, herself included, would have struggled to escape unscathed.

Numerous questions and discussions swirled in her mind, but Yareli opted to base her judgment of Oliver on his tangible actions and the evidence before her, choosing to place her trust in him.

"I'll vote for that too," Terence chimed in, downing a bottle of alcohol similar to Philip.

"Being a warlock…honestly, I don't like it either, but isn't this not the time to argue about that? After all, he's the only one here who can manipulate that cursed fog," Terence asserted, gesturing toward the fog that was slowly encroaching upon them once more.

The mist that Kevin had dispersed through his spirit magic and fire magic was gradually reclaiming its presence.

"So we have to consider him on our side, whether we like it or not… No offense," Terence added, offering an apologetic glance.

"It's okay," Oliver replied.

Aware of the wizards' animosity and aversion to black magic, Oliver remained unfazed. Furthermore, the prevailing circumstances seemed relatively favorable.

The Grand Master and the Tower's Master, along with a highly esteemed student, were advocating for him, were they not?

While he couldn't predict the future with certainty, for the time being, it appeared unlikely that he would be embroiled in any trouble.

This was promising news. There were matters he wished to address in the present moment.

However, the wizards who still harbored doubts about Oliver turned to Yareli's grandmother and One Master of the Skadi School, Tilda, as if seeking guidance.

Tilda addressed the divided assembly of wizards, "Impersonating someone and getting a job at the Tower under false pretenses is a serious crime. It undermines the Tower's security, safety, and trust. Even more so if it's a warlock."

Oliver nodded in concurrence. She spoke the truth.

"However, as General Philip said, that's not the most important issue right now. The Life School has betrayed us. In the long term, it's a matter of the Tower's future, and in the short term, it's a matter of our lives. Let's put aside small matters for now… Master Kevin."

Tilda summoned Kevin, addressing him with respect and courtesy, unlike the other wizards.

"Yes, One Master Tilda?" Kevin responded.

"Do you trust this warlock, Dave?"

Her inquiry pertained to his endorsement of Oliver's reliability.

Kevin regarded Oliver and answered, "Absolutely."

Bang!

The moment he heard the response, Philip slammed his hand onto the floor, capturing everyone's attention.

"Well, that settles it. Let's move on to the next issue. The Life School… if anyone has seen or heard anything, speak up. There might be some useful information," Philip announced in a seemingly jovial manner, despite the issue's gravity.

Understanding the facts is imperative to respond effectively.

As the assembly hesitated, the sole warlock present, Oliver, raised his hand and spoke with composure, as though the preceding events hadn't occurred.

"I'm not sure, but it seems like the Life School is preparing for some big ritual or surgery right now."

(To be Continued)

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