The Nerd Next Door Turned Out To Be The Magic Tower Master - Chapter 34

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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 34
The lake was physically quite deep, so it couldn’t have been from hitting a reef. Water began seeping through the twisted wooden planks at an accelerating rate.
To make matters worse, the boat—which had moved of its own accord as if fitted with a motor—didn’t budge an inch.
Just moments before, she’d been overjoyed at completing the Ceremony successfully. What in the world was happening?
Just as the saying goes, happiness wasn’t as far away as she’d thought—it was nowhere in sight.
The shock of the situation drained the color from her thoughts. Water had now risen past her ankles to her calves, but Cecilia forced herself to stay calm.
‘Stay composed. I touched bottom just moments ago.’
Even if she sank, the water would only reach her chest at most. She’d waded into the lake beforehand precisely to prepare for circumstances like these.
True, the ending of the Ceremony would be a disaster, but at least her life shouldn’t be in danger.
Yet even knowing this, as she sank deeper into the cold lake water, gooseflesh crawled across her skin. Her body went rigid, and a nameless dread spread through her like wildfire.
And bad premonitions, as always, proved grimly accurate.
The boat sank helplessly, and the waterline rose past her legs. Her body submerged in an instant.
Contrary to her expectation of stopping at chest-depth, no matter how hard she tried, her feet found no purchase.
At last, Cecilia—tangled in the heavy folds of her water-soaked garments—sank endlessly, endlessly below the surface.
* * *
The roar of the crowd had thundered out as sacred flames blazed brilliantly—but only for a moment.
When the Saint and the boat carrying her came to a sudden halt in the middle of the lake, the cheering gradually subsided. Not because anyone had sensed something amiss.
Even as she remained perfectly motionless, even as the boat seemed to sink gradually, most of them still watched her with shining eyes.
Because she was a ‘Saint’ beloved by God.
During a Ceremony of gratitude to God, not a soul suspected that anything ill could befall a Saint.
But only after the boat had finally submerged and the Saint had disappeared completely beneath the surface did confusion erupt.
“What? Was there a Ceremony like this last year?”
“Maybe it’s something new? But… she’s been under awfully long. You don’t think she actually drowned…?”
“Come on, don’t be ridiculous! This isn’t just any lake—even a common priest couldn’t drown in these sacred waters.”
“Well, I suppose… but…”
The man fell silent, unable to refute the point. Yet as more time elapsed, the water remained undisturbed.
Without a trace of having swallowed anyone. Perfectly still.
* * *
Meanwhile, Cecilia, who had fallen into the water, thrashed against the rising panic she struggled to suppress. But her cumbersome clothing and her hopelessly frail body made swimming impossible.
‘Stay calm. Think.’
She could hold her breath for barely a minute or two. She’d fallen in the middle of the lake, far from shore.
Could the knights reach her in that time? And even if they could—could they even swim in these sacred waters?
She couldn’t rely on a rescue that might never come. Cecilia’s mind raced with desperate calculations.
Then it struck her: the Divine Power that had saved her life countless times. She didn’t know if this mysterious force, which had appeared to simply strengthen her body, could help against suffocation or drowning, but her situation was dire enough that she had to try.
Cecilia hastily summoned her Divine Power. But it was as if her veins were completely blocked—the power wouldn’t manifest at all. Even the faint glimmers that appeared would die like sparks in water.
Her remaining air ran out, and cold water began pouring into her nose and mouth.
Choke!
Around her convulsing face, bubbles rose and boiled away.
It was the end. She accepted it.
A blurred shape appeared in her vision. And it was growing closer.
It was Miguel, who had torn off his armor and plunged into the water.
‘I’m saved!’
Her relief was short-lived.
The knight reached a point above her head but couldn’t descend further. Or rather, he couldn’t.
Because this was a special lake with a bottom—for clergy.
In other words, God’s blessing was preventing Miguel from reaching her.
She saw him twist his body downward and stretch his arm desperately, but Cecilia’s body continued to sink.
‘Just a little more… if I could just reach that hand…’
Please. Please.
‘Let my body move, let the power come—anything!’
In that moment of desperate struggle and yearning, it happened.
Crack—something tore, her body grew lighter, and her feet touched bottom for an instant. Cecilia shed her cumbersome cloak and swam toward the surface.
Just before her limit, she barely grasped the knight’s hand.
The rest was Miguel’s doing. Cecilia’s body surged upward and was pulled to shore.
“Saint! Are you all right?”
Miguel’s urgent voice rang dully in her ears.
Gasp!
Cecilia, who had barely clawed her way out of the lake, vomited up the water she’d swallowed. Her body, hemorrhaging heat, trembled uncontrollably as air rushed into her lungs and airways.
She had almost died.
The sense of crisis and terror that washed over her now was something she hadn’t felt even when glass had rained down on her head or when an axe had nearly cleaved her skull.
Was it this excruciating pain, as though something were tearing through her lungs? Even as Cecilia expelled shallow, ragged breaths one after another, her thoughts churned on despite the paleness creeping into her vision.
This was no accident. It couldn’t have been.
The boat she’d seen days ago had shown not a single flaw, and the water had barely reached her chest. The structure was such that she couldn’t possibly have fallen—not like this.
‘Who? Who was it?’
Who wanted Cecilia Webadin dead? Or was it me they wanted to kill?
Through her blurring vision, she searched desperately at the faces around her.
People. People everywhere.
The surging crowd made it impossible to study any single face.
Between the priests holding back the faithful—the ashen-faced Archbishop, Nox shouting something incomprehensible, the Pope rushing toward her with his ceremonial robes in disarray, the Marquis crying out in shock, and inexplicably, Rien drenched to the bone—her vision finally went black.
Everything dissolved into darkness.
* * *
When Cecilia regained consciousness, she was in her room at the Webadin Estate.
The familiar ceiling, the bed beneath her with its accustomed texture, the soft fragrance—as her dulled senses gradually took them in, her ears caught only sharp, piercing voices.
“Nox Webadin. You won’t try to claim this was an accident too.”
……
“I told you after the glass window incident—it was clearly Dilanshe’s work! If we’d conducted a proper investigation then, this never would have happened!”
“I… I apologize.”
As the Marquis’s voice rose, Cecilia slowly turned her head to one side. There in the tense atmosphere stood the Marquis, his face cold and rigid, leveling sharp accusations at Nox.
Nox offered little in his own defense, keeping his mouth firmly shut—a clear sign that this incident had dealt him a considerable blow as well.
“So what does the Temple say? Any evidence? The culprit? Have they found even a trace?”
“The crowd was so dense that we couldn’t identify the culprit. However…… they’ve found traces of magic.”
‘What?’
The news jolted her alert. She parted her dry lips.
“Magic?”
“Cecilia!”
Despite the urgency flooding through her, her voice emerged as barely more than a whisper, her throat cracked and raw. Yet the Marquis heard it, and he hurried to her bedside.
“Are you alright? Is anything wrong? Any pain?”
The Marquis’s rough palm pressed against her forehead. His touch was urgent yet careful, and his face bore a confusion of both relief and worry.
Cecilia gripped her throat with one hand—where a dull ache lingered—and spoke again.
“I’m fine now. But what were you saying? What was that about?”
“Several people of Archbishop rank felt traces of magic at the moment of the accident.”
It was Nox, standing silently behind the Marquis, who answered. His guilt-laden face grew hollow as he added weakly:
“It happened so fast that nothing’s certain. We’ll need to investigate further.”
Magic, he said.
Her dazed mind slowly turned the word over when suddenly something crucial came back to her.
She’d pulled herself from the lake and immediately lost consciousness. Which meant…
‘The Charity Ceremony? What happened to the ceremony?’
“What happened to the Charity Ceremony?”
“His Holiness finished it well enough.”
That subtle pause before the answer, that sideways glance—all of it betrayed the lie in Nox’s words.
‘As I thought.’
A so-called Saint had fallen into the sacred lake in the heart of the Grand Temple, and hundreds—thousands—had witnessed it.
Watching days of effort turn to garbage, her mouth went bitter.
“You just focus on recovering. Don’t worry about anything else for now……”
That was when she spotted the newspaper crumpled and scattered at the feet of Nox and the Marquis.
‘What is that?’
When Cecilia raised her heavy arm with effort and reached for it, a startled Nox tried to snatch it away.
“Wait, hold on!”
But Cecilia’s eyes moved faster than his hands. She read the article’s headline.

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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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