༺ The Wizard Who Will Venture Out Of His Backyard ༻
“⋯⋯⋯⋯!!”
The Purple Magic Tower Master’s eyes widened, as she covered her mouth with one hand and urgently grabbed my sleeve with the other. When I looked at her, wondering what was going on, it seemed like she wanted to yawn.
I bent my knees to match her height and leaned in close to her face.
The Tower Master removed the hand covering her mouth and yawned cutely. Seeing a cute yawn was rare, but the Tower Master managed to achieve such a difficult thing.
“Heuuuaaaaaaauahhhh.”
I inhaled every single molecule of the breath exhaled by the Tower Master from a distance close enough to avoid any unnecessary misunderstandings.
Let the record show. This was not a lewd act to satisfy any maniacal tendencies.
A yawn was a natural phenomenon occurring in every single living being with souls.
Just as heat was gained by burning fuel, living beings burned their souls to obtain a source of energy. This energy, in martial arts terms, was called True Origin Qi, or in normal terms, life force.
This was also why Black Wizards were so eager to capture people. They used life force to cast their magic, after all.
And the byproduct of Soul Combustion was mana. To put it poetically, mana was like the ash left after a soul burned.
Living beings emitted a small amount of mana with each exhale. And occasionally, when a significant amount of unrefined mana accumulated, it was all released in a yawn.
The higher the individual’s realm, the purer and more abundant the mana released through yawns. For an Archwizard, a single yawn could rival a potent elixir.
Therefore, there was a culture of allowing one’s best disciple to ‘drink’ their yawns. In very close relationships, to absorb 100% of the dissipating mana, they might even overlap each other’s lips.
How could one do such a thing without embarrassment? I was already nervous that our lips might accidentally touch.
Uh.
“⋯⋯⋯⋯?!”
Did they just brush slightly?
“Phewwwww.”
The Tower Master smiled refreshingly, as if pleased. Judging by her calm reaction, it seems it was just my imagination……….I absentmindedly touched my lips.
After the eventful session with Second Prince Irid, the Tower Master and I had been spending quiet and peaceful days.
We woke up in the morning, washed up, and brushed our teeth. Then, we carved modelings.
We ate, did some light stretching, and then carved modelings.
We ate, carved modelings as a way to rest, and then carved modelings.
We ate and carved modeli……….
Yeah, I know. I really did need a ton of modelings though. Not only for their use as heroines, but also to fulfill a man’s dream of building giant robots. I had so many things I wanted to do.
And even among them, the most urgent was to gather combat data.
It was understandable that in the plot for the Second Prince, the main enemy was a mercenary with clumsy swordsmanship, but if a knight appeared as an enemy and couldn’t handle a sword, it would be problematic for the story’s consistency.
I also needed data on the movements of monsters. I had laid the foundation using numerous visual media from my previous life, but after consulting with Senior Scarface, the biggest social butterfly of the Purple Magic Tower (She goes out almost 50% of the entire week), she said my current data was an absolute mess.
“Should I go outside at least once…….”
“I-It’s dangerous outside of the M-Magic Tower!”
“I know it’s dangerous, but still.”
In the nine years at the Magic Tower, I hadn’t researched even a hint of combat magic. It was not that I was a pacifist. I just found panty modeling more enjoyable than magic that destroyed others’ minds.
The Tower Master also opposed me learning combat magic. She said ‘impurities would be mixed in’. Considering it was advice from an Archwizard, I just took it at face value, not even bothering to look into it.
As such, I needed an assistant. A reliable bodyguard who could firmly protect me outside the tower. Ideally, it would be best if the Tower Master accompanied me………..
“Should we fill out an application form for the relocation of strategic weapons………?”
“No.”
Superhumans like Archwizards had to submit a request to the Imperial Court a week in advance, stating where they would go and how long they would stay.
To me, it felt like they were making too big of a fuss over it, but when I considered it from a neighboring Lord’s point of view, I kinda understood. It would be alarming to suddenly have a strategic nuclear weapon walking around your territory. They would probably start sweating bullets and lose strength in their limbs at the thought of that.
Even if the Lord themself paid caution, if some black-haired, tanned, good-for-nothing thug from the territory picked a fight……..Depending on the temper of the walking strategic weapon, a whole street could blow up.
Therefore, this procedure was added to prevent the recurrence of ulcers in numerous Lords of the Empire.
If the application was rejected, you would have to submit it again, thus it could even drag on for a month. I guess it would be better to lower my hope that the Tower Master accompanied me.
For reference, on the day when all the Tower Master gathered to scout me, there was a fuss because nobody had submitted an application. I heard rumors that the Lord who ruled over the village where I was born fainted, foaming at the mouth.
Well, anyway.
I really should try to go outside at least once whenever I get the chance…….
===============================================================
When I went to the Tower Master’s lab to ask if she would like to carve modelings of bras with me, I found her in thin pajamas, holding a letter and creaking like she was broken.
“T-Thi, this is a l-le, letter……..f-from the P-Pri, P-Prin, P-Princess.”
I took the letter from the malfunctioning Tower Master. It was flamboyant, adorned with all sorts of jewels, clearly signifying it was sent from the Imperial Family. In the end, all of this would become research funds.
Removing each jewel decoration and checking the sender, it turned out to be from the First Princess.
Stripping away the complex political rhetoric and summarizing the core, the content was as followed:
‘My brother seems to have enjoyed himself.’
‘I want to do it too.’
‘I like beating up people.’
‘See you in a week.’
“Mmm.”
Seeing as how this simple content was written so elegantly, it really wasn’t for no reason that she was a member of the Imperial Family. I read the letter once more, trying to understand the needs of the prospective player
I also asked the Tower Master. Whether she knew any other details about the First Princess. After sitting cross-legged on my thighs, she began to speak. I made a temporary backrest with one arm for her.
“I heard she’s been a battle manic since she was young.”
“A battle maniac, you say.”
“Eung, Count Yurensto often said this. ‘Don’t act like a rabid dog like the First Princess.’ There were also rumors of knights in her territory breaking their arms while sparring with her.”
This was a very, very crucial point. Combat.
If the player enjoyed combat this much, I must prepare a combat map. It was time to finally realize the wish for a gripping showdown that was not fulfilled with the Second Prince.
Then suddenly, a question occurred to me, so I turned towards the Tower Master.
“Come to think of it………Isn’t it usually counted as First Princess, First Prince, and Second Prince?”
“Eung, that’s right.”
“What?”
“Ah, Aha……….The First Prince died. That’s why I intentionally omitted mentioning him. The Imperial Family………don’t like talking about the First Prince, you see. There’s a command banning it. Everyone treats him as if he never existed.”
“Oh no, how tragic. What happened?”
“It’s just a rumor, but I heard he was poisoned. At around the age of ten.”
It made sense that people didn’t mention him. To think that a Crown Prince died from poisoning. Openly talking about it would tarnish the reputation of the Imperial Family.
Poisoned to death, you say. My mind raced through reference materials that went from court intrigues to romance fantasy. Considering that poison and succession struggles were involved, the Imperial Family might actually be more dysfunctional than I thought.
Could this also explain the Second Prince’s behavior, as if he had a screw loose? If it wasn’t some case of inheriting Paranoia DNA from the Emperor, then something must have happened during his upbringing.
Given the sensitivity of the topic, it would be better to take out any mentions of poison. A gimmick such as ‘Who poisoned my green tea?’ should be avoided.
Combat, combat, you say……..
Then how about dark fantasy?
A world where everything had been destroyed, a land of ashes. Because some kind of……..Mana disaster occurred. About 90% of humanity was wiped out and bizarre-looking monsters appeared, taking over mankind’s place as the lord of all creation. These monsters would speak a language incomprehensible to humans.
Humans clung to their fragile lives in small outposts, using up artifacts or knowledge of the once glorious civilization of old, quietly dying day by day.
But there was a sliver of hope. It was just a rumor, but somewhere on the continent, there was a shelter…….Mmm, a ‘Safe Dungeon’ that guaranteed survival for at least the next 100 years.
That was when the player appeared.
A player with a mysterious aura, who cleared the path by overcoming the twisted natural environment and defeating gigantic monsters. The surviving humans followed and worshipped the player. In other words, the player became a Prophet.
It would be good to add minor troubles to the group of humans led by the player, from petty theft to serious murder. Such ‘morally ambiguous choices’ greatly helped in defining the character of the player.
I should include a heroine too. If the player was a woman……..Mmm. I was roughly thinking along the lines of one frail scholarly type, one aspiring knight who admired the player and strived to follow their path, and one Top G.
As expected, I really needed to go outside the tower. Gathering combat data was now urgent.
If the Tower Master couldn’t accompany me, I needed an alternative. Someone with a decent level of combat ability who could actively cooperate in my data collection. Not someone who just stayed looked up in research, but someone who had experience smashing goblin heads outside.
I decided to ask Senior Scarface for help.
“Esteemed Junior, repeat after me. Lo-re-i.”
“Scarface.”
“Lo-”
“Lo.”
“Re-”
“Re.”
“I.”
“Scarface.”
Although there was some trouble in the process of our communication, when I peeled off a few jewels attached to the letter, she became very cooperative. As expected, nothing could beat money.
The Tower Master did a wah wah wah, but the preparation for going out progressed very quickly. Senior Scarface hired an adventurer party, planned a suitable exploration route, and reassured the Tower Master that it would be a very safe journey.
“Take this and just in case, this too……..And this……And also this…..”
It seemed as if the Tower Master had awakened a mindset where she would rather kill me if she couldn’t have me, as she bombarded me with a pile of artifacts. She loaded me with no less than forty-nine necklace-type artifacts, you see.
The Tower Master went a step further, even threatening that I could not take a single step outside until I wore all the necklaces.
Senior Scarface thought for a moment and then instructed me.
“Whisper in the Tower Master’s ear that you like her the most in the entire world.”
“Why?”
“Because only then will our path forward be opened.”
Senior Scarface seemed utterly confident. I decided to trust the senior, both a wizard and a veteran explorer. I imagined a scene I had witnessed back when I was in elementary school.
With the warmth of a parent embracing a daughter returning from school, I hugged the Tower Master and whispered in her ear. It was nice to hug her because she was so cozy.
“I like our Yuna the most in the entire world?”
“⋯⋯⋯⋯!!?!”
At that moment, the Tower Master evaporated. Not as a joke or metaphor, but for real.
I was wondering what in the world was going on, but according to Senior Scarface, she had broken out of my hold with some lofty Illusion Magic before disappearing. For some reason, Senior Scarface had a strangely satisfied expression.
As expected, even if there was only a few months difference, it seemed a senior was still a senior, huh? Just like this, Senior Scarface had easily removed all obstacles.
In the end, I only wore one necklace.
This was how, with a throbbing and excited heart── I stepped outside the Magic Tower for the first time in nine years.
===============================================================
When we reached the meeting place, a three-person party was waiting for us. I heard they were adventurers, but the state of their armaments was no joke. To exaggerate a bit, they were almost on the level of knights.
The gender ratio of the party consisted of one man and two women. At first glance, there seemed to be one warrior, one archer, and one rogue. The rogue’s outfit was quite lewd and the area of her fabric was small, which I thought was worth referencing. I should take a modeling of it as is and use it later.
A handsome young man, seemingly the leader, with his hair stylishly swept back in a 2:8 parting, introduced himself. His eyes resembled those of a fox and he even had a beauty mark near his eyes, which was a bit, hm. How to put it. Somehow he was, well…a bit…You know?
“Nice to meet you. I am Second-Class Adventurer Rowillen, who will be joining you on this adventure.”
“I look forward to your kind cooperation. Beauty Mark Gay.”
“…….Is he perhaps picking a fight with me right now?”
“It’s just that his brain is a bit abnormal. Please understand.”
Senior Scarface quickly intervened to defend me.
Fortunately, seeing that he got pissed as fuck after hearing Beauty Mark Gay, he seemed to like women.
