Memoirs of a Wicked Magician - Chapter 55

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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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Chapter 55
Beyond the window at dusk, the sunset melted and pooled like something viscous, casting a deep shadow even across the woman who stood with her back to it.
So before Evangellin knelt, all he glimpsed was the faint outline of her silhouette.
Yet that alone was enough to condense his blood and send his pulse racing.
She was his master and his mother, his compass through life and his goal as a mage—and whenever he beheld her, his body had always responded this way, so he thought nothing strange of it.
He only felt his awe deepen, wondering if all great mages of the distant 8th Rank commanded space itself through mere presence alone.
“It has been far too long. Tower Master of Northern Magic Tower.”
The woman by the window did not bother to raise him to his feet, though Evangellin harbored no resentment over it.
Just as the sun and moon rose in heaven and waves formed upon the sea, his obedience was as natural to the world as truth itself.
“Yes, it must be nearly half a year since we last spoke face to face?”
“Y-yes, that is correct.”
Evangellin’s reply came stiff with tension.
His eyes, rigid with strain, dared not capture even the hem of the Tower Master’s robe, remaining fixed to the floor as though nailed there.
Yet as his gaze drifted uneasily through the red sunset seeping in from the window, something suddenly snagged his attention.
A pair of shoes upon the Crimson Blue Carpet, its geometric patterns embroidered in silver thread.
It was only then that Evangellin realized he was not alone in this room with the Tower Master.
“I heard you achieved remarkable results alongside Velkius in the last evaluation. Most commendable.”
“You are too kind, Tower Master of Northern Magic Tower.”
Yet he had no opportunity to bristle at the uninvited guest who so brazenly sat upon the sofa, looking down at him on his knees.
“So you were the Evaluator assigned to the Outer Estate examination this time, were you not?”
For a moment, Evangellin’s breathing nearly ceased.
The voice that brushed his ears was neither particularly warm nor coldly sharp.
Rather, it held the flat, emotionless quality of someone of the same blood—bearing traces that recalled Velkius, that single-note monotone.
Yet Evangellin’s spine went rigid with inexplicable dread.
He sensed instinctively that he must exercise extraordinary caution in his answer from this moment forward.
“Yes, that is correct.”
“And this was the first time you ever formed a Contractee.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Not just anyone—you, Eren, showed such unusual consideration toward a child who had only recently arrived at Belegot. It piqued my curiosity; the child must be quite exceptional.”
But Evangellin hit an impasse almost the moment he tried to open his mouth.
“The fact that he entered the Punishment Chamber immediately after making the pass list suggests he truly does stand out in some peculiar way.”
What on earth was she talking about?
A Contractee?
The Punishment Chamber?
For someone like Evangellin, who had lived his entire life as a model student, the fact that he understood nothing of what he was hearing transcended the merely strange and bordered on the bizarre.
Meanwhile, a terrible alarm began to toll in his mind.
Evangellin’s mind, seized by a sense of crisis, began to race with unprecedented intensity.
Surely not……
He desperately hoped not, but……
The context made it painfully clear: some idiot had gone into the Outer Estate under his name and caused an incident, leaving Evangellin to be minced like ground meat.
‘That damned fool……!’
Evangellin barely choked back the curse that rose to his throat, clenching his jaw so hard it ached.
“I have caused distress through my own foolishness.”
Yet he could never, even unto death, allow his own lips to confess the truth.
“Though he comes from the Outer Estate, I believed he would become a talent essential to Belegot. I acted somewhat impulsively as a result. I have been reflecting on this ever since.”
If one had to choose between pitiful incompetence and reckless indulgence, was it not better to select the latter?
Better to become a fool with poor judgment than to confess that Velkius had crushed him utterly, leaving him confined to his room like a cripple for an entire month.
At least his pride suffered less that way.
The Tower Master of the Northern Magic Tower did not answer Evangellin immediately.
The silence that hung overhead felt infinitely heavy.
At that very moment, a low laugh from the boy beside him struck Evangellin’s eardrums, and the familiar voice that followed made his expression contort violently.
“Still, Eren, that’s quite something. Making a Contractee of a newcomer you’ve barely even seen. You must have liked him quite a lot.”
He instantly realized that it was Velkius who stood there beside the Tower Master, looking down at him.
“Everyone in the Northern Magic Tower knows how discerning your eye is.”
Veins bulged prominently in Evangellin’s fists, stained by the sunset’s glow.
The architect of the incident was standing right here before him, wagging his tongue so brazenly—it was only natural that Evangellin’s blood would boil.
“Yes, Eren. You said it was a momentary impulse, but in truth, you are deeper in thought and more cautious than anyone.”
The Tower Master’s response, which came after a brief silence, was equally suffocating.
“A child chosen by someone like you—how promising. I am curious to see how he will grow from here.”
Evangellin squeezed his eyes shut.
A torrent of emotions roiled within—rage, grievance, irritation, despair. Yet he could not let any of it show.
Given Evangellin’s nature, there was only one response he could give.
“Yes, of course! I will do my utmost so that you will not be disappointed. Please have faith in me and watch over this, Tower Master of Northern Magic Tower!”
* * *
Damn it……
Damn it, damn it, damn it……!
‘What kind of infuriating mess is this?’
Even after leaving the room, Evangellin’s mind was consumed by fury.
“Eren.”
When he heard the voice calling him from behind, he spun around savagely and fixed the boy standing there with a glare blazing with malice.
Velkius walked toward him with that detached expression of his, composed enough to divide the very air.
‘If you have even a shred of conscience, you’d have something to say about this. Let’s hear what excuse you’ll fabricate.’
Evangellin waited for Velkius with precisely such thoughts. But what transpired was utterly absurd.
“Your shoelaces.”
“What?”
“They need retying. For you to be in such a slovenly state is unlike you—you must have hurried out when summoned. Still, one ought to mind one’s appearance.”
Velkius glanced down at Evangellin, remarked on his disheveled state, then began descending the stairs ahead of him.
Evangellin was left dumbfounded.
Shoelaces……?
He was talking about shoelaces?
Had the meaning of shoelaces somehow changed while he wasn’t looking? Or was it some sort of hidden slang?
But that made no sense, did it?
With heat flooding to the crown of his head, Evangellin lunged forward and seized Velkius’s arm.
A faint metallic scent brushed his nostrils at that moment, but Evangellin’s fury-addled mind registered nothing.
“Are you insane? In a situation like this, shoelaces? Did you drop a shovel on your head? You must have more to say to me than that, surely?”
Eyes of colorless gold met the blazing red stare trained upon him from inches away.
Almost everyone in the Northern Magic Tower revered Velkius much as they revered the Tower Master.
Those rare few who did not were quick to bend to reality, moving about like cats that had lost their claws.
Thus, Evangellin was perhaps the only person in Belegot who collided with him so emotionally.
‘Somewhat alike, perhaps?’
Gazing into those eyes roiling with such consuming intensity, Velkius’s mind drifted unbidden to the girl at the Outer Estate.

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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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