Sage’s Tower

While plenty of areas still needed work, the place was finally starting to look like a town compared to when I had first arrived.

If I could just solve the labor shortage, I might actually be able to call this a respectable territory, I thought.

Our primary source of foreign currency remained the Mock Refrigerator. We were still leaning on it heavily; in fact, demand was so high that customers were clamoring for restocks rather than new products.

I had mixed feelings about that.

According to Alan, inferior imitations had already started hitting the market. He’d even suggested that I create a Certification Mark to prove a unit was an authentic Yuri-brand original.

“A ‘Mock’ Mock Refrigerator, huh?”

“What was that?!” Alan barked, his eyes lighting up. “Is that a new product?”

“Obviously not. I’m talking about the fakes.”

When I chided him for his excessive zeal, he looked blatantly disappointed.

“I thought it was a golden business opportunity... I was imagining a box that could warm food up instead of cooling it down. You know, the opposite of the Mock Refrigerator.”

“Ah. You mean a Microwave or an Oven Toaster.”

“D-do you already have a prototype?!”

Alan began shuffling toward me with the slow, relentless gait of a zombie. I understood that he was greedy for anything that would sell, but he was overstepping.

“Not yet. Unlike the Mock Refrigerator, which just needs to stay cold, those require an on-off switch. I haven’t been able to get that part right.”

If the user were a Mage with a corresponding attribute, I wouldn't have to worry about the mechanics—I could just design the tool to activate when Magic Power was infused. But since I wanted these to be universal, I needed the Magic Power to be contained within the device from the start.

The Mock Refrigerator was highly valued for its versatility; anyone could use it until the unit literally fell apart. I wanted to maintain that standard.

“I might be at a bit of a stalemate on my own,” I admitted.

“I thought you might say that,” Alan said, a broad, knowing smile spreading across his face. “So, I’ve already reached out to a specialist in that field.”

He intended to lead me to this exact conclusion from the very start.

He’d played me like a fiddle. I let out a wry sigh and looked at him.

“Fine. Who is it?”

“Melty Belmolt. Surely you’ve heard of her? She is a Sage said to be second to none in the field of magic.”

Oh, I knew her. I knew her all too well.

Sage Melty. She was a late-game addition to the Hero Party. As a high-output Mage, she ranked among the top five most powerful magic users in the Original Game, capable of annihilating entire armies with rapid-fire, high-tier spells.

It wasn't an exaggeration to say that her involvement was the reason several of my father’s schemes had been exposed. In other words, to the ‘me’ of the game's timeline, she was an incredibly dangerous enemy.

Still, I saw Alan’s point.

As someone who could manipulate the four basic attributes at a master level, she was the most likely person to find a breakthrough for my engineering problems. The trade-off was that I’d be harboring a ticking time bomb—another major character from the Original Game.

Then again, there was Emilina. Despite her being the Saint, her presence hadn't triggered a descent into ruin. Curiously, Balan hadn't made any overt moves to overthrow the kingdom yet, either. Whether he was preoccupied with something else or the plot of the Original Game simply hadn't reached its starting point, there were no signs of his shadow-work.

That was a blessing for now, but there was no doubt he would move eventually. I needed to continue my preparations for the Demon Lord subjugation. If I was going to take risks, it was better to do it now while the world was still relatively stable.

“So, is this Sage in the territory?” I asked.

“Well, I spoke with her, but she refused to come. However, if we were to go to her directly, I’m sure...”

“You know where she is?”

“Yes. She lives on the top floor of a dungeon known as the Sage’s Tower.”

I remembered it now. It was a dungeon infamous for its convoluted gimmicks and a high density of powerful Monsters.

“In other words, we have to clear the dungeon.”

“...That would be the case, yes.”

“Maybe we should just pass,” I said flatly. I had no desire to do something as suicidal as challenging an end-game dungeon this early.

“But the Sage never leaves that tower!”

“Couldn't we just catch her when she goes out for groceries?”

“Her familiars handle all the shopping, and—”

“Wait. How exactly did you ‘speak’ with her then?”

He’d definitely claimed they had communicated.

“I had the familiar carry a letter along with the groceries, of course. This was her reply.”

Alan proudly brandished a piece of parchment. It read:

If you wish to be heard, ascend to the summit of the Sage’s Tower. —Melty Belmolt

To me, it looked like a polite way of telling a merchant to get lost by naming a location he could never reach. Alan, however, was undeterred.

“This means that if we reach the top floor, she’ll listen to whatever we have to say, right?!”

“I suppose so...”

It was true to the game logic. In the Original Game, she only lent her strength to the protagonists because they managed to reach her.

“But clearing that tower is impossible for us,” I reminded him.

Wait. Was it actually impossible?

I fell into silence, contemplating a workaround. Alan watched me, a gleeful, silent smile tugging at his lips.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing. I just thought that expression meant you’d come up with a plan.”

“It might not work.”

“It’ll be fine. I believe in Lord Yuri, after all.”

His blind faith was a little disturbing. Regardless, I turned on my heel and headed for Dozul’s Smithy to prepare the gear I’d need.

---

The rhythmic ring of a hammer on an anvil echoed from Dozul’s Smithy. The moment I pushed the door open, a wave of sweltering heat hit me, making me wince.

“Dozul, got a minute?”

“Wait! I’m at a critical stage!”

Dozul was in the middle of forging a sword—a massive one. It looked like the kind of greatsword Fritz used. I waited until he finished his cycle of strikes. He wiped a thick layer of sweat from his brow and approached.

“Sorry to keep you. What is it?”

“No, it’s my fault for dropping in unannounced. I need you to make something.”

I handed him a sheet of paper with the specifications for the tools I required.

“Hmm. I can make ‘em, but they’re heavy. Who’s supposed to swing these?”

“Fritz.”

He was the only one in the territory I could trust with this level of manual labor.

“You’re volunteering that lad for more work without asking again, eh? Fine. Give me a few days. I’ll balance them so they’re actually usable.”

“I’m counting on you.”

With that, the minimum preparations were set. Now, we just had to ‘conquer’ the dungeon.

---

At the summit of the Sage’s Tower lived Melty Belmolt, the woman rumored to be the strongest magic user in the Kingdom of Inraku.

Unlike the lower levels, which had warped into a deadly dungeon, Melty’s quarters were a chaotic mess of domesticity. Papers and books were strewn everywhere. She was so absorbed in her research that she rarely bathed, leaving her long blue hair a tangled nest. Clad in nothing but a tattered, oversized shirt that exposed her slender frame and thighs, she clearly didn't care about appearances. There was no one around to see her, anyway.

Her ears were slightly pointed—not as long as a pure member of the Elf Race, but enough to mark her as a Half-elf. She possessed the longevity and massive Magic Power of her mother’s kin, but it was her obsession that had earned her the title of Sage. She had spent nearly her entire life studying the arcane.

The nobles who had originally granted her this tower had eventually grown terrified of her rising power. In an attempt to isolate her, they had released Monsters into the lower floors. However, Melty had simply placed a Barrier around her room. The Monsters couldn't get in, and she didn't care to go out. Thus, the tower had become a bizarre vertical dungeon where only the top floor remained human territory.

Melty, who had been researching until dawn, was currently dead to the world, sleeping spread-eagle on the floor. Suddenly, a violent tremor shook the foundation, jolting her awake.

“Wh-what was that?! An earthquake?!”

She scrambled to a small window and peered down. Far below, she could make out three figures.

Challengers? She knew her own leaking Magic Power had buffed the Monsters below, making the tower a high-rank dungeon. To her, a group of three that didn't even look particularly well-equipped seemed less like adventurers and more like a suicide pact.

Strangely, the trio made no move to enter the front gates. Instead, the tallest man drew a massive greatsword and began hacking at the base of the tower.

The stone shrieked under the blade, but the tower was reinforced and sturdy. A sword wasn't going to do anything. Or so she thought—until the man swapped the sword for a gargantuan hammer.

Then, the boy in the center began chanting. He unleashed a spell Melty had never seen before.

Before she could process the nature of the magic, the tall man swung the hammer. The moment it connected, a massive section of the tower’s base was sheared away and sent flying like a sliced log.

“...What?!”

Melty’s jaw dropped. That wasn't human strength. Was she being attacked by a god?

She didn't have time to ponder the mystery. The trio continued their work with terrifying efficiency, slicing the tower into horizontal segments and hammering the blocks away one by one.

The tower grew shorter and shorter, floor by floor, until finally, the entire structure was gone—leaving only Melty’s top-floor chamber resting on the flattened earth.