BRRC CH 21

Chapter 21 – The Youngest Tower Master

“Hey, did you hear? The seat of the International Magic Tower Master just changed!”

That was probably a few days before my death.

It was Hiana who’d come into my lab and said it.

“I was so shocked! It’s that Viscount Dennis, can you believe it?”

She placed a freshly printed newspaper on my desk.

Right on the front page was a large photo of the young heir of the Dennis family—Owen Dennis.

“This guy… became the Tower Master?”

“Yeah! Look here—they say the new formula he revealed is incredible!”

And she wasn’t exaggerating.

[The Youngest Tower Master: An Interview with Owen Dennis on Magical Science]

“What’s even crazier is that the new formula was actually made 13 years ago! When he was seventeen! Isn’t that insane?”

I quickly skimmed through the description of the formula printed beside his photo.

The youngest Tower Master, huh.

Even at a glance, it was an intricate and flawless magical formula.

He made this at my age? I thought, nodding to myself.

“…It’s well made.”

“There are so many geniuses in the world, right? Becoming the International Tower Master at thirty—I’m jealous!”

“Yeah.”

“But the story behind it is kinda sad. Apparently, he made that formula while trying to save his sick little brother. But the boy died right before he finished it.”

“What?”

“Exactly what I said! He was working on the research, but he didn’t have the money to buy one of the main ingredients. So he couldn’t finish it in time, and his brother passed away.”

“…”

“They said he wandered around for a long time after that, completely broken. And a few years ago, he finally came back to the academic world. You know he’s got white hair now? It turned that way from grief. He used to have black hair, apparently. Crazy, right?”

Right. That really happened.

I remembered that conversation so clearly it felt like yesterday.

‘If that’s true, I have to hurry.’

There was only one reason I was moving this quickly now.

If I wasn’t mistaken, that same Owen Dennis—the youngest Tower Master—was here right now.

At House Abner.

* * *

“Damn it…”

The parchment in Owen’s hand crumpled tightly, his carefully written draft crushed between his fingers.

He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood as he stared blankly at the spring petals drifting on the breeze.

After traveling for three sleepless nights, he had finally reached Abner territory—only to find it disgustingly beautiful.

The fields were bursting with flowers, the grass lush and green.

In the distance, a few children were tossing toys to one another, laughing without a care in the world.

“Make an appointment,” they said… as if it were that easy. Damn it all…”

His throat burned.

He leaned back against the stone wall and shut his eyes before the tears could fall.

He had lost count of how many times this had happened.

Owen Dennis.
A noble in name only.

The title of Viscount sounded impressive, but the truth was laughable.

He had no real land to govern, no wealth to speak of—just a collapsing old house and a name that meant nothing.

Still, when his parents were alive, things had been bearable.

Even if they had only one servant—a nanny—and even if he’d had to grow crops himself to survive, there had still been happiness.

But now… now there was nothing.

“What am I supposed to do anymore…”

He looked up at the sky—so bright and painfully blue that it hurt to look at.

Three years ago, both of his parents had passed away.

Neither had been in good health, so maybe it was inevitable.

But that didn’t make it easier.

It would’ve been fine if he’d been alone.

But—

That damned kid. Why did you have to take after them?

His little brother, Arwin, ten years younger, had inherited the same weak constitution as their parents.

He’d been frail since birth, and by the year before last, his condition had worsened drastically.

His complexion grew paler by the day, and the coughing fits became constant.

By last winter, he’d even begun coughing up blood.

That tiny body…

Watching him struggle to breathe made Owen’s heart rot from the inside out.

He’d even considered selling their mansion and moving to the capital. Maybe a better doctor could save him.

But—

“It’s difficult in cases like this. He was born with this illness. No known medicine can cure it.”

The physician he’d brought at great cost had only shaken his head.

“He’s far too young and weak. Even if we had a possible medicine, preparing a formula suited to his condition would cost a fortune.”

“Then what do you want me to do? Just wait until he dies?!”

“You should be grateful he’s survived this long. It’s already a miracle.”

Owen had been too furious to speak.

“There’s no way! In this entire empire, there has to be something that can save him!”

But deep down, he’d known the doctor was right.

There really wasn’t any cure.

He’d studied pharmacology himself for years—he knew better than anyone.

There was one experimental drug that might have worked.
But he couldn’t get it.

It was too rare, too expensive, and could only be found across the sea.

Even so, he refused to give up.

“Owen, my son! You’re going to achieve great things. Don’t worry about the family—just focus on your studies, all right?”

His parents’ proud words still echoed in his head.

He couldn’t give up.
He had to make a cure for Arwin.

And he did.

After countless failures, he finally succeeded in creating a formula.

But by then…

“…So what if I made it?”

The materials were too expensive.
Because Arwin’s body was so fragile, every ingredient had to be refined to the highest quality.

Even using substitutions, each dose would cost ten billion terabytes.

And Owen didn’t even have a thousand to his name.

“Listen, Arwin. I’m not giving up on you. Ever.”

He’d told his brother with all the determination he could muster.

“Stay with the nanny, all right? Just two months. I’ll come back with your medicine.”

He’d left as his little brother waved a thin, trembling hand.

And ever since, he’d been wandering across the empire—begging for help.

But every time, he’d been turned away.

“Who? Viscount Dennis?”

Not a single noble wealthy enough to lend him money would even see him.

“I’m sorry, sir, but my master is currently unavailable.”

Even now, just like at House Abner, he couldn’t even meet the head of the family.

With shaking fingers, Owen pulled a wrinkled letter from his pocket.

It was sent by the nanny, Medea, a few days ago.

Owen,

Arwin’s gotten much worse.
If it looks like you’ll be gone too long… please, just come home.
He misses you so much. I’m sorry. Please be careful.

—Nanny Medea

There were tear stains all over the letter.

And Owen understood immediately.

Arwin’s condition had deteriorated beyond hope.

He might already be near death.

The letter was asking him to come back—just to see his brother one last time.

He bit down hard, shaking.

“Damn it, damn it, damn it…”

The only family he had left.
The little brother he’d raised himself.

His vision blurred with tears.

A drop fell from his cheek to the dirt below.

That was when he heard it—

“Ah! My lady!”

“Please wait! Just a little walk outside, I promise!”

He blinked and turned toward the sound coming from over the wall.

“It’s not allowed, young miss! You can’t go past the gate!”

“I’m not going far! I swear, I’ll only look right here!”

A child’s voice—sweet, slightly lisping—rose above the guards’ shouting.

“Wait! The young lady’s running off!”

“What are you doing? Stop her!”

There was a loud crash, the sound of shields clattering, and footsteps scrambling.

Owen just blinked blankly, trying to understand what was happening—

And then—

“Found you!”

From the main gate, a small head popped out.

Ivory-colored eyes shining in the sunlight, silver hair fluttering in the breeze.

“Wha—what…”

Owen’s eyes went wide.

Standing there was a tiny girl—much younger than Arwin had been.

And for some reason, she was looking straight at him with the brightest smile imaginable.

“Young miss!”

The guards came running after her, but the little girl darted between them with surprising speed—

And then, out of nowhere, she threw her arms around Owen.

“W-wait—!”

The guards froze mid-step, eyes wide.

The girl looked up, beaming, and tugged at his sleeve.

Then she declared, in a cheerful, ringing voice:

“Master Annelia~~!”