IBSFW 13

IBSFW

Posted by Harry, Released on November 6, 2025

Chapter 13

The ruined city of Franz. Holy Knights surrounding the collapsed bell tower.

Aileen surrendered herself to them without resistance.

Using her as bait and the Wind–Forest–Fire–Mountain technique as my shield, I escaped.

That was fifteen days ago.

I did not return to Wind–Forest–Fire–Mountain.

After meeting Aileen and planting in her the clues to the world’s end, I no longer had any reason to stay there.

I set my course toward the sunrise and simply walked forward.

The journey I began alone was far more difficult than expected.

I had to stay alert to signs of monsters nearby, and without holy power, even making a fire became my responsibility.

On the first night, I spent three hours struggling with flint before giving up and trying to sleep without a fire. The cold rising from the ground wasn’t enough to kill me, but it certainly woke me up and made the night miserable.

Having no one to talk to was a discomfort of its own.

I missed the poisonous, one-sided sarcasm of that witch-of-a-woman so much I almost longed for it.

Was this what it felt like to have cobwebs growing in your mouth?

Food and water I managed by stopping at villages along the way.

But even that was reaching its limit.

The travel money I had brought from Wind–Forest–Fire–Mountain was nearly gone.

I had been careful—very careful—but Hesse had only given me enough for twenty days. It was inevitable that after nearly a month, I would run out.

After fifteen days of walking, I reached my destination, the city of Keindea, only late at night.

**[Keindea’s nights are bright. Its de facto lord, the Master of the Mage Tower, distributes one magic lantern to every household.

With the policy “When night falls, hang the lantern on the door,” now twenty years old, outsiders call this place the city where the sun never sets.]**

The city of mages.

Keindea.

This was my destination.

And it was indeed bright.

Nothing like Dannan, the city that housed Wind–Forest–Fire–Mountain.

In any other city, the streets would be silent, everyone asleep—but Keindea’s streets bustled with merchants and pedestrians.

Most of the stalls sold reagents, books, or magic ingredients.

People looked at me and recoiled in shock, keeping their distance.

I wondered why—until I realized I looked like a beggar and sighed.

I wandered into a side street, looking for a place to spend the night… and got lost almost immediately.

Unsurprising, really. The city interior was laid out like a maze.

No signs. No information boards.

sigh.

Nothing ever goes smoothly.

I turned back the way I came to retrace my steps.

“HEY! WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT!!!”

A man’s shout echoed through the alley, loud enough to startle a sleeping stray cat into yowling and bolting away.

On impulse, I headed toward the voice—maybe I could ask for directions.

Turning around a wall, I found two people: a man and a woman.

“Coral, you’re being too loud. Calm do—”

“Calm down? Does this look like a situation where I can calm down?!”

“Uuuh…”

“How could you ‘lose’ something that important?!”

“I didn’t lose it, it… disappeared…”

“That’s the same damn thing! Damn it, the delivery deadline is right around the corner! The numbers don’t match! When the Council investigates and accuses us of skimming, what are you going to do? Tell them it just disappeared?”

“Well, no, but…”

“I’m done. I didn’t hear anything. Whether you suffer because you messed up the inventory is not my problem. Deal with it.”

“You jerk.”

“I’m the jerk? Who’s the one that—ugh, forget it! I’m not getting dragged into this and taking the fall with you!”

The man named Coral stomped away into the darkness.

Leaving the woman alone.

I approached her.

She looked around twenty. Maybe younger. Her eyes drooped—not sure if by nature or because she was depressed.

A shabby red robe. That was all there was to describe her.

To put it nicely: plain. More bluntly: nothing remarkable.

She looked like she was in some trouble, but that had nothing to do with me.

She noticed me.

“…Who are you?”

“Ah. I got lost. Could you help me?”

The next day, after finding a decent inn for the night, I headed to the Mage Tower located at Keindea’s heart.

No—saying it was located at the center was slightly inaccurate.

The city had been built around the tower.

That was how influential the tower was.

I had arrived.

**『Load.
Mage Tower.

The scent of unnamed potions and the musty air of mold-covered tomes sting your nose.
The tower stretches skyward, as if piercing the clouds—an overwhelming sight that fills you with awe.
You sense the mana in the air, thicker than usual.

Why?
Incantations that once seemed impossible now feel like you could complete them effortlessly.

Long ago, during the era of Magic, three great towers were built at the most advanced points of the continent, forming a triangle that dominated the world.
Due to an incident, two were destroyed. Only this one in Keindea remains.

— Detailed information about the Mage Tower is locked to immigrants by order of the Tower Master.
Unlock by achieving one of the following conditions:

Receive approval from the Tower Master.
???
???
???

— Mana density here is higher than average.
Converted to value: 112%.』**

Enormous.

That was my first impression of the Mage Tower.

Made of black stone, its base was the size of a sports field, tapering gradually as it rose. The top, barely visible even with my head tilted all the way back, sharpened to a point like a needle stabbing the sky.

I headed for the first-floor entrance.

Everywhere I looked, people dressed like they wanted the world to know they were mages—oversized pointed hats, colorful robes, and occasionally a staff.

I reminded myself why I had come here.

To save the Crimson Sage.

The Crimson Sage—one of the seven elders of the Seven-Tailed Comet Council.
A pioneer of flame magic.
A mage who had opened the Eighth Gate.

A genius with heroic achievements—awarded the title of Sage at the age of forty-six.

And who dies at forty-six.

I came to the tower to prevent that.

“But now that I’m here…”

The truth was, I had no solid plan.

All I knew was how he would die, and the aftermath of his death.

I couldn’t exactly walk up and tell him, “You’re in danger, run.”
He wasn’t the type to run from danger. He confronted it—mostly out of curiosity and scholarly interest.

And I had no means to even meet him.

A token from Wind–Forest–Fire–Mountain?
The average mage wouldn’t even bother to snort at it.

I had no special magical talent, nor any connection to the tower.

If only the Crimson Sage frequently left the tower—then maybe.

But like a true mage, he buried himself in research and rarely stepped outside.

I massaged my temples.

What was Kang Juhyuk doing now, I wondered?

It had been over six months since he migrated.

By now, Isabel was likely convinced of his potential and would have approached him.

The setup for the “Return of the King” arc.

In the kingdom of Ethilheda, the kingless land where the princess grows into a queen.
Two months remained until that story began.

“You’re an immigrant, right?”

The voice behind me—clearly aimed at me—made me tense. I turned.

A figure in a large pointed hat, like the others, stood facing me.

From the voice and build, I could tell it was a woman.

Should I deny it?

No—honesty might be better here.

“How did you know?”

“Your outfit stands out. Compared to everyone else, I mean.”

“Just from that?”

“And a bit of intuition.”

“…Intuition?”

A word mages of Istalnisia hated most.

They were zealots who believed the world moved solely through logic, reasoning, and defined principles.

Words like intuition, coincidence, or fate were taboo to them.

Which meant this woman was one of four possibilities:

A con artist pretending to be a mage,
Not human,
An eccentric weirdo,
Or…

“You’re an immigrant too?”

“Correct! I’m from Pangaea. You’re from… Lak-Sha? Treuer-Virginia? What else was there…”

“What do you want from me?”

I cut her off and diverted the topic.

There was no harm in telling her my origin—but no need to share more than necessary.

She paused, realizing I’d sidestepped her question.

And I stayed silent.

Naturally, the one who wanted something from the other spoke first.

“Right. Where we’re from doesn’t matter. Personalities don’t matter either. What matters is whether you can help me.”

“And why do you assume I will help you?”

“Because a gentleman should help a beautiful mage in distress.”

I looked at her again.

A baggy, worn red robe hid any shape her body might have had.

Her face—plain, unadorned… Ah. I had seen her before.

Last night.

“A beauty?”

“…You’re not popular with women, are you?”

“Coming from you?”

“I’ll have you know I’m considered a top bride candidate in the tower!”

“Stop lying to outsiders. Among mages, nine out of ten are basically married to magic. So if you mean you’re ranked first among the remaining ten percent, then sure, I could maybe understand.”

“So am I pretty or not?”

“I did think that if ten million great beauties died, relatively speaking, you might qualify.”

“…”

“I did think so.”

“What’s the point of repeating the part that hurts…?”

She clammed up completely after my teasing.

I spoke smoothly.

So this was how the Sword Saint and Aileen felt when they toyed with me.

“Your eyes weren’t originally that droopy, were they?”

“…?”

“Last night. You seemed pretty down.”

“Eek! You remembered from the start?! Why did you pretend you didn’t?!”