Chapter 9

I finally had a chance—at the very least, I needed to last five minutes.

But what spell should I try?

Simply overpowering it with higher-tier magic sounded boring. I wanted to test adaptability.

I loosened the cuff of my sleeve and lightly formed a hand seal.

The spell I chose was First Rank White Magic: Channel.

The most basic of basics for any mage, and completely non-offensive.

But even a construct without will could be linked to a channel.

That turret probably stored data through tens of thousands of channels inside. If I could dig in, it could serve as an attack.

『.』

A thin strand of mana shot toward the turret—only to bounce back, useless.

It had spread its mana outward to block me.

The message was cut off instantly.

Then came a standard magic attack aimed at my feet.

It hadn’t judged me a threat, so it retaliated with something low-level.

“What’s that guy doing?”

“He’s not even attacking properly.”

“Hey, if you’re not serious, don’t waste time—get out!”

“Hiding behind an anonymous name… seriously, where’s he from?”

Ignoring the grumbling mages, I prepared another channel.

This time, more of them—sequentially.

『.』 『.』 『.』 『.』

Once again, the mana spread and every channel was severed.

But I didn’t care. I kept forming seals again and again.

I mapped the room’s structure in my mind and spread the channels wide.

—Vrrrrrrm!

The turret spun harder, like an air purifier struggling against heavy smoke.

Sure, I could overload it like this and break through. But I wanted something more fun.

I tweaked the formula, exposing not just the endpoints of the channels but also the bent, reflected junctions.

Dodging the turret’s barrage, I slowly returned to the spot where I had first entered.

Amid the storm of mana, I finally found my footing—and unleashed countless threads of mana at once.

They struck walls and ceiling in calculated trajectories, ricocheting and piercing the turret all at once.

『Are』, 『you』, 『afraid?』…

One string of text transmitted—no, inputted—into the turret.

『Are you afraid?』

—Vrrrm, Vrrrrm!

The turret’s mana wavered wildly, as if trembling in fear.

“Incredible! I didn’t think the Towers had created something this entertaining!”

This was technology that hadn’t existed fifteen years ago.

Like a scientist facing an AI that had learned consciousness for the first time, a thrill surged inside me.

Without realizing it, I clasped both hands before my chest.

The primitive gesture of reverence that ancient believers once made—now, to a mage, it was a sign of awe.

“Extreme Magic—no, rather…”

I completely forgot the crowd of mages watching from behind.

All I wanted was to test the turret’s limits.

Heart pounding, I drew in mana, preparing a new spell that couldn’t possibly exist in its database.

Would it defend? Evade?

Or would it calculate that it couldn’t win and launch a preemptive nullification?

“Extreme Magic—Infinity…”

But my reckless impulse ended before it even began.

Just as the spell neared completion, smoke billowed from the turret, followed by the smell of burning metal.

—Vrrrrm, Vrrrm… BOOM!

Mana, leaking inside like it might explode, suddenly guttered out like a dying flame, leaving only a faint stream of smoke.

After standing off against the cold, inert hunk of metal for several long seconds, I realized something had gone very wrong.

“Huh?”

Wait… did it just break?

“What happened in there?”

“The Magical Siege Turret shut down?”

“But the only spell he used was Channel…”

“Is it over? How long did he last?”

The barrier that had blocked outside contact vanished, and a wave of chatter from the mages hit my ears.

I stepped out and glanced at the timer glowing on the ceiling.

1 minute 32 seconds.

Out of seventy-two participants, I ranked seventy-first.

Not even close to the five minutes I’d aimed for—didn’t even make it halfway.

Though it wasn’t me who failed, but the damn turret, that wasn’t exactly something I could say aloud.

As I stared blankly at the number, the Red Tower mages shot sharp glares and mocking words my way.

“What was that? Did you really go in there planning to last just one minute?”

“This is why we don’t take outsiders. They awaken and think they’re suddenly talented mages.”

“Move it. Next person’s up.”

Their jeers barely registered.

What weighed on me wasn’t the fact that I’d wasted one of six chances to enter the Special Unit.

No—the thought hammering in my head was simple.

This might actually be really bad.

That turret had looked expensive. No way it broke that easily, right?

Surely it had auto-repair functions or something.

“Power’s totally dead!”

“Someone check the generator room!”

…Nothing?

Then it must’ve been defective from the start.

Like those sickly chicks they used to sell in front of schools.

“Message from downstairs—they said it’s completely busted.”

“But that was supposed to be a brand-new model!”

R-right. Then obviously the thing’s lifespan ran out because they abused it too much before me!

From the turret’s perspective, dying in my hands was an honorable way to go.

“Testing’s not finished yet. You think they’ll bring in another one?”

“Don’t be stupid. That thing costs more than a fighter jet. If they don’t bill us for repairs, we should count ourselves lucky.”

“Hey, it wasn’t us who broke it.”

“Then who…?”

If this went the wrong way, I was looking at damages worth more than my life.

This was exactly the kind of desperate situation where I needed the wisdom of Mala-nim.

“Mala-nim, I’m right, aren’t I? This’ll just blow over as a minor incident, right?”

And the divine reply came:

『La, la, la~.』

…Damn it. Skipping that yeonpotang really came back to haunt me.

At this point, I had only one option: escape.

As suspicious gazes drilled into me, I clenched my trembling fists.

Not even when Archduke Ashtar of Decay and the other top-thirty Archdukes cornered me in the Valley of Lament had I taken a single step back.

But the terror of a Magic Tower compensation claim rivaling a national agency? That was on another level entirely.

“Ninety-eighth Tentacle—Ink…”

“Excuse me.”

Just as I was about to unleash my ultimate getaway move—scattering ink like a classic wuxia-style donkey roll escape—a voice cut through the chaos.

Someone called out to me from behind.

Creaking, I turned my head—and there she was. The same mage who’d let me into the test earlier: Cheon So-baek.

I hadn’t really looked closely before, but the way she carried herself, calm even in this situation, told me she was someone important.

The faint glimpse of the emblem on her undershirt beneath her crimson robe showed a dragon clutching flame.

If my memory wasn’t wrong, only the direct disciples of a Tower Master could wear that symbol.

And if it was the Red Tower’s master—that meant one of the Seven Immortals, the Heavenly Immortal (Cheon-seon). The pinnacle of flame magic, even among White Magic.

The fact that a woman with the family name Cheon was here didn’t feel like coincidence.

And today of all days, my ominous hunches hadn’t been wrong once.

“Nice magic back there, clap clap. But if you wanted a high score, shouldn’t you have controlled your power a little better?”

“Ah, haha… so you noticed? I guess I didn’t realize the turret’s durability was so low.”

“This model is supposed to last three hundred years, even in extreme Gate conditions.”

“Then it must’ve had some kind of defect. To think such an unfortunate incident would happen during my test…”

“Oh my, are you saying the Red Tower’s technology is subpar?”

What I actually meant was please don’t kill me.

I couldn’t let myself become some bankrupt debtor doomed to a lifetime of eating boiled octopus.

Forget me—even Mala-nim shouldn’t have to rot in some cold prison cell.

I was just about to drop to my knees and beg until my hands turned into tentacles when Cheon So-baek suddenly smiled faintly.

“Channel, then overloading the calculations with high-rank magic… So it really can be disabled that way. Still needs more improvement, I see.”

“…What?”

She muttered to herself, then quickly turned her head, scanning me up and down with curious eyes.

And then, out of nowhere, she threw me a bombshell.

“Let me be direct.”

“…Huh?”

“Why don’t you join us? I’ll give you my Oath in exchange.”

Us? Could she mean Division 4?

“…You wouldn’t happen to be the Commander of the Firepower Support Unit, would you?”

『Who else would I be? Your reaction was strange from the moment I saw you. There isn’t a mage in Korea who doesn’t know me.』

“….”

『So are you coming or not? I don’t offer twice.』

Tying up her curly red hair with a scrunchie around her wrist, she casually opened a Channel and asked again.

Was she promising to waive the repair costs of the turret if I joined under her?

But after stepping into Division 4’s atmosphere earlier, one thing worried me.

『The truth is… I’m from the Black Tower.』

The Channel stung like static for a moment, briefly cutting out.

Cheon So-baek’s face flickered with surprise, but she quickly reconnected as if nothing happened.

『Oh? That’s unusual. But honestly, I don’t care.』

『It’s just… other people seem to mind.』

『Our Red Tower might be the mainstream, but Division 4 has mages from other Towers too.』

She looked at me like I was even more tempting prey—like she was eager to collect all the colors.

I avoided her gaze.

This was a lifeline, sure, but if I accepted her Oath here, I’d lose my chance at Division 3.

Carefully, so as not to offend the prideful mage, I spoke.

『I haven’t finished the other aptitude tests yet… Would it be alright if I gave you an answer after seeing the results?』

One second. Two seconds. Ten seconds.

Long enough to wonder if the Channel had failed.

Then, with a little “Ah~!” Cheon So-baek nodded slowly, as if she finally understood.

“One confession, one rejection… what a strange rookie. So you don’t like my Oath, huh?”

“Ah, no! Absolutely not! I just… I already had a path in mind. If you could give me six hundred months’ installment payments, I swear I’d pay you back, so please, no lawsuits…”

“Well, I suppose that can’t be helped. Go on, then.”

“…Wait, really?”

Her coolness was almost unbelievable.

Had I heard her name wrong? Wasn’t it Cheon So-baek, not Cheon Sa-baek?¹

“I told you, I don’t offer twice.”

“Then… about the repair bill…”

“Repair bill? Ah, so you thought I’d let you into Division 4 in exchange for waiving the turret damages?”

“…Wasn’t that it?”

“What nonsense. Do you think an Oath sworn in the name of an Outer God is worth a measly few billion won? And besides…”

The Red Tower mages arrived to recover the broken turret.

Accepting their bows, Cheon So-baek left the testing ground. She pointed at the ruined hunk of metal and said:

“Just because someone rejects me once doesn’t mean I’d chain them down with something so petty as a pile of scrap metal, right?”

And with that, she smiled—like she’d already gotten what she came for.