LTTH C14

Chapter 14

“Perhaps it shall not take long.”

With those enigmatic words from the mage, the once pitch-black void began to shimmer with an ethereal blue light. Because the air was veiled entirely in darkness, that blue glow appeared with striking clarity.

‘Could it be—the vanguard?’

When a new Gate appeared, it was customary to swiftly assemble a clearing party, selecting the most elite members for an expeditious sweep. Since this Gate had emerged before the Hunter Association’s headquarters, Hansol had anticipated a rapid response, but not so swift as this. Truly, the Association maintained a keen regard for its outward image. Filled with hope, Hansol awaited the arrival of reliable allies.

As the azure line tinting the void broadened into an oval and ceased expanding, figures began to emerge through the blue Gate—one, two, three—growing steadily in number. Such a sight kindled immense joy within him. They had survived. Everyone here, including himself.

Yet, pause for but a moment.

‘…Why are they all Mages?’

His head tilted slightly as the realization dawned—every single person who had appeared before the blue Gateway bore the unmistakable symbol of Mages: the robe.

Something was amiss. Most grievously so.

“Could it be… a party composed entirely of Mages?”

“Weren’t they dispatched by the Association?”

Hansol was not alone in his unease. Even the civilians assembled began to tilt their heads inquisitively, whispering their doubts.

Ordinarily, when the Association sent forth a detachment, they carefully selected diverse classes to ensure synergy. A party composed of varied and appropriate classes was the norm. Yet, those standing before them all wore robes and carried staves.

There was no room for suspicion. Regrettably, they were all Mages.

“Good heavens.”

The cursed Association, indeed.

Have they now reached the point of neglecting even the clearing of new Gates? No matter how one viewed it, this Gate had swept away not only hunters but also numerous civilians. If the Association had any semblance of prudence, this could not be permitted.

“Though I understand your concerns, please rest assured.”

“Pray, tell me?”

“The Mages of the Mage Tower are far from weak.”

“……!”

‘The Mage Tower, did you say?’

Just two syllables, yet the weight they bore was tremendous. Hansol’s gaze swept once more over the cluster of figures who had entered the Gate.

A group spaced evenly, casting spells with relentless fervor. Their casting speed verged on frenzy, yet the sight of skeletons falling with each spell spoke of power unlike any common mage’s.

It was natural, perhaps inevitable, that the skeletons once hesitating before the Holy Knight’s blade now began to fall before the newly arrived Mages’ spells. In truth, the disappearance of every visible skeleton was but a moment’s work.

Their mere presence denoted they were no ordinary Mages. The sigils embroidered upon their robes sealed the matter.

Within a geometric golden circle emblazoned with a hexagram, an inimitable emblem brimmed with magic, softly radiating golden light.

‘All affiliated with the Mage Tower…!’

Numerous Mages from the Mage Tower—some ten or more—stood before them. Surely, even if a Lich were to appear, there was ample power to contend with it. Yet, the perplexity remained: why would such proud Mages unite against a mere newly formed Gate?

“Indeed, Mage Tower Mages should be more than sufficient, but why…”

“Well, it is likely on my account.”

“Pardon?”

Hansol fixed his gaze on the man evading eye contact with an awkward smile. Could it be that this gentleman was so renowned that even the Mage Tower’s Mages would journey thus far to seek him out? If he were truly famed, surely he would know. Yet Hansol found no trace of any connection between this man and the Mage Tower.

The Mage Tower’s lord was an elderly figure of white hair, and seven elders were similarly aged gentlemen. Hansol recalled no young mage within their ranks capable of commanding such forces.

‘Then it must be a lie? No benefit whatsoever?’

Impossible. Even now, the Mages encircling the group at measured intervals glanced surreptitiously toward this man.

Han sol considered that he might merely be a ranker of sorts, but upon closer inspection, it seemed he surpassed such stature.

Could it be that his intervention was not without cause? That Hansol’s frantic struggles were futile compared to a mere gesture from this man? A foreboding thought swept his mind. This was a ranker, indeed—perhaps something beyond. A soul residing in a world far apart from his own. This emotional chasm bred unease, widening the distance between Hansol and the man.

“Where are you going? It remains perilous.”

“Ah.”

Only a few steps away, and yet the man followed closely, pressing with a smile that brooked no refusal. What was to be done? He had no desire for serious entanglements. If this man were truly a renowned figure of the Mage Tower, the Association would surely be watching intently. Being involved with such a person would make one notorious in an instant. Hansol wished only to remain a humble ‘Citizen One.’

“Ha ha.”

There was no advantage in drawing attention at his current level. It was better to quietly grind levels, gently edge into the ranks of rankers, and then garner fame once the Association’s scrutiny was less stifling.

“The place ahead looks somewhat dangerous…”

“The place ahead, you say…”

“That young man—the one awakened as a Hunter.”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.”

Ironically, the young Holy Knight stood close by, and given the awkward exchanges, the man’s gaze naturally shifted to the youth. As if searching for something, he studied the Holy Knight intently before suddenly waving his hand sharply.

A faint chill swept the air, but the bluish aura that arose was no trifling thing. The swift, cool wind wrapped the Holy Knight and brought him forward as if by magic.

“Hup!”

“Isn’t this more efficient than pushing through the crowd?”

Indeed, efficiency was there. The problem was that not many could accomplish such a feat with but a mere gesture. …Clearly, Hansol was now entangled with a formidable figure. An ominous sense as though his future were to become twisted took hold.

“Thank you, Healer.”

“Pardon?”

“I know that my awakening is all thanks to you, Healer.”

Breaking through the awkward tension between the mage and Hansol, the youthful voice suddenly bowed deeply in gratitude. The overly formal gesture beyond a mere nod added to the weight of burden.

Moreover, perhaps from feeding on Divine Power, the sincerity and purity emanating so close felt almost sacred, and Hansol instinctively recoiled, waving his hands in modest refusal.

“Ah, no.”

It was indeed Hansol’s fault that the young man awakened as a Holy Knight. But if he admitted it here, he feared never shaking the interested gaze of the observing mage.

“Hooh.”

Behold, the mage’s eyes, previously lively, now gleamed like stars embedded too brightly, nearly overwhelming.

“Truly, truly, thank you.”

The mage’s eyes turned away, as though unable to bear sight of the young man delivering the finishing blow. Hansol caught the faintest smile tugging at the mage’s lips.

‘…Ah, divine providence.’

The quiet resolve he had held before traveling to England to peacefully level up inside Gates shattered utterly before his ears.

“I do hope you shall find time for me, indeed.”

“Ha ha…”

The resolute words left Hansol unable to agree or deny, offering only a tentative smile.

“The creature bearing the return portal!”

“What kind of beast might it be? Even a Death Knight would suffice.”

“Please, no.”

How to escape this place? As Hansol pondered, the voices of joy and worry from the frontline drew his gaze. Piercing the darkness, a monster bearing a red ring above its head slowly approached.

The red ring—that mark that universally adorned monsters carrying return portals. Everyone’s attention fixed upon the looming darkness. Dry gulping sounds echoed as tension thickened. Whether they would clear or merely survive depended on what beast would emerge.

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