Climbing the Tower with Multidimensional Avatars - Chapter 205

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 205. The Sorcerer of Sephiroth — The Sweetness of Chocolate (1)

Once the distribution was finished, Rachel headed straight to the bank to exchange her gold for Credits.
The Climbers’ Bank operated twenty-four hours, so the exchange didn’t take long.
When selling gold at the bank, they ignored its historical or artistic value and evaluated it purely by weight, which meant getting less money than if she’d hawked it around—but the bank’s convenience was unmatched.
Still, the quantity of gold Rachel had obtained was substantial enough that she felt no hesitation in liquidating it.
It was far more profitable to sell quickly and use those Credits to climb the Tower than to waste time hunting for better offers.
For a different climber, it might not matter; but for Rachel, Credits were magical power, strength, and time itself.
Rachel emerged from the bank wearing a satisfied smile.
The sky had already dimmed as the sun sank toward the horizon.
Rachel turned to us and asked, “So what now? We had one fight today, and I got plenty of rest yesterday. We’ve still got energy left.”
Lee Su-young looked at me and Diana, checking whether we were ready to tackle Floor 34 right away.
But Diana and I shook our heads.

“Combat isn’t that exhausting, but watching the trial—that really wears you down.”
“It’s just watching, but it feels like doing an extreme sport nonstop for five hours straight.”
There had been a protective barrier shielding us, certainly, but merely enduring it had drained our stamina.
Physical fatigue would recover after a little rest, but the mental exhaustion from witnessing something so mythic in scale didn’t fade with a quick break.
For a mere lower-level climber, there were far too many things to bear.
“Let’s regroup tomorrow morning—or better yet, around lunchtime. We need rest.”
Diana nodded in agreement, rubbing her tired eyes.
Lee Su-young and Rachel accepted this with a nod, understanding.
“What about dinner?” Lee Su-young asked.
Diana answered her question.
“Right now, sleep calls louder than food.”
When I nodded in agreement, Lee Su-young turned to Rachel. “There’s a restaurant I spotted. Want to go there?”
We’d only been on Floor 30 a short while, yet she’d already scoped out an eating place.

Rachel smiled and headed off toward the Bustling District with Lee Su-young, while Diana and I parted ways to find our own lodgings.
Lying in bed, I paused for a moment, then conjured a Magical Missile at my fingertip.
It wasn’t the one I’d learned from Andromallius, but the one the Librarian Elder had taught me.
Now that I thought about it, that deranged sorcerer in the hidden Floor 10 Magic Tower—the one possessed by demon—had suddenly claimed enlightenment just from seeing my Magical Missile, rambling that morning enlightenment meant he could die content by evening, spouting madness.
Even the Old Witch Woman in my inventory had warned me never to show it carelessly to other mages.
Now that I’d grasped the fundamentals of magic to some degree, maybe it was time to analyze the Magical Missile properly.
It wasn’t that I hadn’t thought about analyzing it before now.
I’d simply hesitated because of that sorcerer in the Floor 10 Magic Tower—the way he’d succumbed to demon possession made me wary of the Magical Missile itself.
Honestly, it seemed more reasonable to conclude he’d become jealous, gleaned excessive revelation from the Magical Missile, destabilized his mental state, and triggered demon possession through that jealous fixation—rather than the Magical Missile being the direct cause.
It’s true that just as crisis breeds opportunity, opportunity breeds crisis.
Even warriors occasionally become most vulnerable right after gaining enlightenment, don’t they?
And if this Magical Missile was truly that extraordinary, I didn’t think I yet had the skill to interpret it.
I studied the Magical Missile with focused calm.
At first glance, it was merely a clump of magical power.
To analyze magic, I had to use my own magical power to dissect it.
I concentrated magical energy in my eyes and began manipulating the Magical Missile—made of my own magic—as though deconstructing it.
Then the intricate magical patterns within the Magical Missile began to become visible.
The vast, complex structure looked like an endlessly spiraling fractal design from one angle, or like innumerable magical formulas from another.
I marveled at the continuous stream of magical inscriptions.
This Magical Missile was simultaneously just a single missile and also a library containing immense magical knowledge.
Despite the exhaustion I’d felt moments before, I lost myself in the vast magical archive laid bare before me.
Deeper, wider, smaller—I split the Magical Missile apart, burrowed into it, focused intensely.
In that moment of gazing upon the Magical Missile, there was rapture and wonder.
The sky stretches high and distant, yet above that sky lies another sky, and above that, yet another.
In the instant when the ultimate realm unfurled before my eyes, blood began trickling from my nose and eyes.
“Ugh!”
I cut the magical flow feeding into the Magical Missile at once, seized by sudden anguish and dread.
Then I clutched my head.
“Aaaarrgh—!!”
It felt as though a red-hot iron spike were being driven through my brain.
The price of coveting vast knowledge forbidden at my current level had come in the form of terrible agony.
I was a blind man who had gazed into a chasm of unfathomable depth, a foolish Icarus who had reached for the sun with wings too fragile to bear it.
Under normal circumstances, I would never have dared to look so deeply.
There was a reason the mad mage of the Floor 10 Magic Tower had lamented that his talent allowed him only to skim the surface.
This Magical Missile was a forbidden vault of knowledge that revealed its secrets only to those deemed worthy.
Even yesterday, I would have been able to see at most only the outer layers of this Magical Missile, plumbing no deeper than a few strata of knowledge.
But by fortune—or misfortune—mere hours ago, I had obtained the qualification to descend into that abyss.
The Trial of the Demon God.
In the course of investigating the crime of the Fragment of Foreign Deity, I had replayed countless destructions mythic in scope and battles among mages of legend, and in doing so, an image had crystallized in my unconscious—a key, or a path leading toward knowledge not yet granted to me.
An opportunity born of fate.
Though it was undoubtedly an opportunity, one beyond my capacity to bear was a curse rather than a blessing.
Writhing in agony, I had managed—barely—to seal away in that deep unconscious the knowledge still forbidden to me.
“Gasp! Gasp! I… I nearly died.”
Had I not sensed the danger and immediately severed my magical power, my mind would have shattered.
I decided not to touch this Magical Missile for a while.
I postponed further analysis until I could digest the unbearable knowledge I had buried in my unconscious.
“What exactly does the Librarian Elder do?”
Even the knowledge I had managed to salvage, crying out in pain from what I could not bear, was only the tiniest fraction of what lay dormant in the Magical Missile.
The bed I lay upon was soaked with my blood.
My head still throbbed.
Since the blood hadn’t yet clotted, I could use magic to extract it.
I filled the bathtub with cold water, placed the bedding and sheets inside, and drew out the blood with magic.
“Ah!”
Using magic brought a sharp headache, but I managed to separate and dispose of the blood.
“…I should ask the innkeeper for fresh sheets and blankets.”
Though I had separated the blood, the fabric was thoroughly soaked.
My condition was too poor to risk using magic further.
I draped the bedding haphazardly over the shower rack and lay down on the mattress for a moment.
“Just a short rest…”
I fell asleep without even covering myself with a blanket.

* * *

After sleeping deeply, I woke refreshed.
The headache from yesterday lingered faintly, but most of it had faded during my sleep.
Sleep was not merely the brain resting—it was the time the mind organized memories.
When I checked the time, it was ten in the morning.
I had secured lodging and analyzed the Magical Missile around eight in the evening, which meant I had slept for fourteen hours straight to recover.
I furrowed my brow, slowly recalling what I had gained from analyzing the Magical Missile yesterday.
“I need to take proper time to digest all of this.”
Outwardly I seemed fine, but in truth, I had sealed a devastating bomb in my unconscious that could detonate at any moment.
I could not climb the Tower while carrying such a bomb.
Defusing it would take at least several months, so rather than leave the party, I needed to use another body to leisurely process this knowledge.
Of course, I could not digest such dangerous knowledge in my main body.
Now that I think about it, I should also research the Nightmare Soldier’s Heart Fragment I had appraised earlier.
According to the Appraisal Glasses description, it was a pseudo-dragon heart—properly analyzed, it could become a fascinating Magical Device.
I entered the body of my third-slot magical avatar.

* * *

I opened my eyes in the body of my magical avatar.
As always, it was my room at the Andromallius Family’s external outpost in the Inner Safe Zone.
Since I had not returned to this avatar body in over two years, I checked my condition.

[Name: Han Ji-woo (3rd Slot Avatar) / Age: 21]
[Strength: 14 / Agility: 15 / Stamina: 15 / Intelligence: 55 / Magical Power: 47+]
[Status: Normal, Dual Mana System (25/47)]
[Abilities: Multidimensional Avatar Lv 37, Martial Arts Lv 38, Magic Lv 41]

Internal Energy at the Dantian was 25, Astral Body’s magical power was 47.
I could grow my Astral Body using the Internal Energy in my Dantian, and strengthen my Dantian with the magical power of the Astral Body, but I hadn’t done so.
It was to maintain the energy balance of my magical avatar.
So I kept the size of my Dantian—where magical power accumulated in the flesh body—steady while only expanding my Astral Body.
I’d decided to approach magical training at a leisurely pace. For now, I should probably head downstairs.
I’d had more than enough free time since I’d dealt with the Murderous Clown—a mutant creature raised by a corrupt mage from the 33 Magic Towers—until my next assignment came through.
As long as my finances remained stable, I could get by taking just one request a month.
The other members, it seemed, had plenty of expenses, so they kept accepting requests steady—never even pausing to worry about the budget.
When I came downstairs, Heidi was hunched over a calculator, her brow furrowed in concentration.
Heidi managed the Andromallius Family’s finances like a steward, and it was good to see her working hard.
“Where’s Andromallius?”
At my question, Heidi answered without even looking up at me.
“He drank himself stupid yesterday and has been passed out ever since.”
Now that I thought about it, we had shared a drink after I’d handed over that mage who’d been raising the Murderous Clown.
It seemed he’d been stressed about handing over a criminal—vile as they were—knowing they’d become an experimental subject.
Personally, I had nothing but the thought that the man had gotten what he deserved, but Andromallius was just too kind-hearted for his own good.
“What is it? Is there something blocking your progress with the magic?”
“No. I just didn’t see you around.”
I’d been meaning to ask about using the underground research facilities for studying the Nightmare Soldier’s Heart Fragment, but it wasn’t urgent—I’d mention it tomorrow.
As I sat down across from her, Heidi fixed me with a sharp gaze.
“You want me to fix the supply requisition? No way. I’m already calculating it and I can’t change it. Didn’t you see at the top of the supply form that it says once you submit, you can’t make changes?”
Ah, right—there was something like that.
I’d submitted the requisition mainly for surplus items like cartridges and consumables like ammunition.
“That’s not it. What’s wrong?”
At my question, Heidi let out a heavy sigh.
“Something’s not right.”
The way she said it, she seemed to have something she wanted to tell me but was holding back.
“Is there something you want to say to me?”
“…It’s not that I dislike you or anything. Actually, I’m genuinely grateful to you for saving Andromallius.”
“Out of nowhere? I don’t think you dislike me either, Heidi.”
She just sometimes looked at me with a complicated expression, that was all.
At my words, Heidi nodded.
“I’m glad you understand. If there’s a problem, it would be with Andromallius.”
“What do you mean, Andromallius?”
At my question, Heidi seemed torn about whether to say this, her lips working silently before she finally spoke as if confessing the truth.
“…I’ll be honest with you. Right now our family is under austerity measures because of the fallout from Andromallius buying your identity document.”
“What?”
“Our family can’t engage in illegal side businesses because of the nature of Servitude Magic and Andromallius’s personal inclination. On top of that, we’re already the poorest among the Shadow operatives, with the smallest operating budget….”
I could finally understand why Heidi had sometimes looked at me with that mixture of affection and resentment.
I see. My identity document had been that expensive.

(To be continued in the next part)

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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