Chapter 394: Negotiations (1)
“Wait a moment, please. I need to consult about this.”
The Tower of Magic's Administration Chief spoke to Oliver. Outwardly, he maintained a calm facade, but internally, he wrestled with emotions of discomfort, perplexity, embarrassment, and reluctance.
The masters seated on either side of him shared similar sentiments.
Their emotions were genuinely complex.
Even though they disliked Oliver personally, on the one hand, they acknowledged his abilities.
Even if they wanted to see him leave, they couldn’t simply let him go.
Conflicted feelings of dislike and acknowledgment clashed and struggled for dominance within them, the tension evident.
This much deliberation indicated their struggle.
The Administration Chief and the masters engaged in repeated discussions before finally addressing Oliver.
“It seems further discussion is necessary. For now, please withdraw and wait.”
...
A pause.
Though the decision felt somewhat ambiguous, Oliver was satisfied as he rose, respectfully bowing to the Administration Chief, Moirai, and the two masters from the Spatial School of Magic before leaving.
As he closed the door behind him, he found himself in a wide but austere, rectangular hallway.
A fitting atmosphere for the administrative building, which handled the Tower of Magic’s various factions and their differing viewpoints.
Oliver retraced his steps, greeting the staff who continued to work despite the ongoing recess.
Some of them responded with visibly stiff expressions, likely aware of Oliver.
Their reactions weren’t exactly hostile, yet tinged with a certain unease.
With the end of recess approaching, remaining in this state felt a bit inconvenient.
‘Who knows if I’ll still be here at the Tower of Magic by then… Hmm, I could be expelled. Perhaps I should just focus on reading for now? Though I do have two places to visit—hmm?’
Just as Oliver turned the corner, nearing the entrance, he encountered someone.
It was none other than Yareli and Kevin’s researchers, Derek and Felix.
“Hello, everyone.”
A chance meeting. Oliver greeted them politely and observed them.
Yareli, with her silvery curls and thick glasses, appeared as composed as ever. However, Derek and Felix looked notably changed.
Both men had once been fit, but now they appeared frail, as if enduring a long illness. Their faces had thinned considerably, and they looked visibly drained.
Derek, in particular, was strikingly pale, his once-vibrant red hair now faded and bleached.
‘I heard that Theodoor’s experiments sapped them of magic and vitality, leaving them weakened. I didn’t realize it was to this extent.’
Instinctively, Oliver activated his Necromancer’s Sight, assessing the states of Derek and Felix.
Just as Kevin had described, the two men’s magical power had diminished significantly.
Almost halved.
It was clear why Kevin had advised caution with his words.
Hearing about their condition didn’t compare to witnessing it firsthand. Seeing Derek and Felix’s sense of loss drove the reality home.
‘I need to give this matter more thought from now on.’
With an awareness of his own detachment, Oliver spoke.
“Are you both alright?”
“Well, I’m better… At least I can walk now.”
Derek replied, and Yareli added,
“They both struggled to walk until just a few days ago.”
Although this news was disheartening, Oliver wasn’t surprised. He’d seen firsthand what Theodoor had done.
Honestly, Derek and Felix were lucky to have survived.
“Still, I’m glad to hear you’re improving.”
Derek momentarily looked irritated but quickly regained control, managing his emotions with thought. He seemed like he had something he wanted to say.
“How did your interview go? Are you joining the Tower of Magic?”
As Derek calmed himself, Yareli asked a question, and Oliver responded instinctively.
“Excuse me? Oh, no.”
“No?”
Yareli sounded surprised, as if Oliver’s entry into the Tower of Magic had been a foregone conclusion. Derek and Felix appeared equally taken aback.
“Wait—did someone oppose it?”
Oliver shook his head to calm them down and explained the situation.
Why he wasn’t joining the Tower of Magic.
Their reactions mirrored those of Kevin, the Administration Chief, Moirai, and the two masters from the Spatial School of Magic.
“This really doesn’t make sense… It’s an unparalleled opportunity… Even if Zenon succeeded outside, this…”
For the usually composed Yareli, her unsteady voice was rare. Oliver could only offer a polite deflection.
“I appreciate your understanding if you could consider it a matter of personal preference. It’s not that I dislike the Tower of Magic.”
“Of course it isn’t.”
Derek said with a sneer. His emotions surged, simmering with frustration, jealousy, and resentment.
“Hey…”
Felix, startled, tried to dissuade him, as if to say, ‘This isn’t the way.’
But Derek, carried by his emotions, continued, his words erupting like lava from a crater.
“Why, it’s true, isn’t it? A talented guy like him doesn’t need to be stuck in the Tower of Magic. With his skills, he can live well anywhere… No need to care about others’ opinions, or hesitate when given opportunities that others only dream of. He can just toss them aside, with flair.”
Derek’s emotions poured out without restraint. Although intense and sharp, Oliver didn’t mind.
Because, despite the aggression, they were genuine.
The only interference came from Yareli, who was too upset to listen further.
“You, honestly—”
“No, it’s alright, Miss Yareli. I actually appreciate it.”
With an unexpected answer, the three looked at Oliver.
Holding the unintended lead in the conversation, Oliver spoke calmly.
“Please don’t misunderstand. I only mean that I appreciate Mr. Derek’s honesty; I have no intention of mocking or deriding him.”
Oliver looked at Derek and paused, waiting to confirm his meaning had been understood.
Fortunately, it seemed so.
“I also understand why you’re angry, Mr. Derek. You’ve experienced a significant ordeal, and in this turbulent situation, I acted in ways that disrupted the Tower of Magic’s order and contradicted your values… I may have been careless, and I apologize for that. However, separate from that, I believe my decision itself isn’t wrong.”
Oliver spoke firmly yet gently, expressing his stance.
Watching him, Derek’s pent-up frustration gradually dissipated, and he began to feel foolish for his anger.
“It’s honestly absurd… The opportunity you’ve been offered is extraordinary. I’ve even heard about your thesis. Just that alone would raise you to the rank of Master, and with your skills, you could aim even higher… After all, you’re the one who fought Theodoor.”
Derek spoke sincerely, not mockingly. It seemed he hadn’t lost consciousness during Oliver and Theodoor’s fight, giving him a begrudging respect for Oliver, despite his jealousy and resentment.
“Thank you for the compliment.”
“It’s not a compliment—it’s a fact…”
“Regardless, I’m grateful. Hearing it from someone with your strength of character, Mr. Derek, is an honor.”
Derek flinched, looking at Oliver.
He scrutinized Oliver, attempting to gauge his sincerity.
Whatever he decided, Derek spoke.
“…I’m sorry. I actually came to thank you for saving us… So, thank you…”
Derek stammered through his words, unaccustomed to apologies or gratitude.
Though his voice was soft and his words unclear, the sincerity was unmistakable.
Despite his hesitation, Derek completed his apology and expression of thanks.
It was truly gratifying.
“Thank you for your kind words.”
Oliver placed a hand over his heart and responded with courtesy. Felix, witnessing this, also expressed his gratitude for Oliver’s help, and Oliver extended the same polite response to him.
“Thank you as well, Miss Yareli, for bringing them here.”
“It was nothing difficult, so don’t worry about it. By the way, what happens now? Will Mr. Zenon be leaving the Tower of Magic?”
“I’m not sure myself. For now, they’ve asked me to wait.”
“Wait?”
“Yes.”
“They must be keen to have you, I suppose. Understandable.”
Derek spoke more casually, appearing more at ease. It seemed he was now more accepting of Oliver.
It was a nice change.
“Oh, by the way, when do you expect to recover?”
Felix answered,
“Not entirely sure, but I’ll likely need to focus on recuperating for quite a while. It’s not just my magical power but my vitality as well. I’ll need to start with physical recovery first.”
Once more, Oliver activated his Necromancer’s Sight, observing Derek and Felix.
Their vitality was as depleted as their magical power.
“Won’t potions help with recovery?”
“Potions won’t work.”
Yareli replied firmly.
“They won’t?”
“Yes. Most people consider potions to be miracle cures, but they can actually be fatal. Potions work more as stimulants. They artificially activate the body, accelerating wound healing, but their quality only affects their potency and side effects, not their fundamental mechanism.”
Oliver nodded at the detailed explanation.
Though he’d studied some herbalism, he hadn’t yet learned alchemy. He hadn’t realized that potions functioned by such a mechanism. He had assumed Tower of Magic potions would be different.
It seemed that even magic had its limitations.
“Potions can be convenient if used sparingly, but overuse can be dangerous, especially for someone with weakened physical condition.”
“Then, how do you plan to recover?”
“Through rest, sleep, a balanced diet, and light exercise. That’s really the best course of action for now. The most we can rely on is nutritional supplements.”
Nutritional supplements… Oliver reached into his coat.
“I can’t be certain, but would you like to try this? The mention of supplements reminded me.”
Oliver retrieved a small container with two pills inside. The pills were a deep red, so dark they appeared nearly black.
They were Blood Elixirs.
“What… are these?”
Sensing something unusual, Yareli asked.
“I came across the formula by chance. I heard that it’s effective for restoring vitality in men and improving skin health in women. Would you like to try it?”
Derek’s expression showed both suspicion and reluctance.
“Is this made with black magic?”
“To my knowledge, yes. I know someone who takes it regularly, and they reported good results.”
Oliver thought of Edith, who had been taking the elixir and seemed quite pleased with the effects.
“Five times a day!”
Though Oliver didn’t fully understand the context of Edith’s praise, it was clear that she was satisfied.
“This seems valuable; are you sure it’s alright to give it to us?”
“Yes, it’s fine.”
Oliver was sincere. In the past, his limited supply would have made this difficult, but ever since receiving the skin vest from Ewan, his production efficiency had increased significantly.
Production was so high, in fact, that First was now able to reduce the official working hours (excluding rest) from an intense 18 hours to a more lenient 16 hours daily.
Oliver still remembered First’s comment at the change:
“Damn.”
Derek and Felix each took one of the Blood Elixirs, hesitating as they considered whether or not to take them.
“Of course, there’s no need to feel obligated,” Oliver added.
“…Are you sure this will have an effect?”
“Honestly, I’m not certain how it will affect younger people, as it was primarily taken by older individuals. Still, I imagine it will have some effect.”
“Didn’t expect that coming here to thank you would mean playing the role of a test subject.”
“As I mentioned, there’s no obligation—”
—gulp!
Before Oliver could finish, Derek swallowed the Blood Elixir, followed by Felix, who closed his eyes tightly before doing the same.
In the ensuing silence, Oliver asked,
“How do you feel?”
“I just took it.”
“Oh… Right. May I ask a favor?”
“If it’s something you want from us, don’t even start. You should have mentioned it before we took the pill.”
“No, it’s nothing like that. I just wanted to ask if you could keep the elixir a secret, as long as there are no adverse effects.”
Derek narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“…Why?”
“I have personal reasons. I’ll explain in detail later.”
Though still wary, Derek nodded. Despite his suspicion, he decided to trust Oliver, at least for now.
Strangely, the trust was satisfying.
“Thank you for keeping this confidential.”
“If anything goes wrong, I’ll report you immediately, so don’t get too excited… But, are you heading somewhere? You keep glancing at your watch.”
“Oh, my apologies. There’s still some time, but I wanted to be sure.”
“Got an appointment?”
“Yes, I need to meet some people for a brief reconciliation.”
“Reconciliation?”
“Yes, there’s something I need to discuss.”
...
In Zone O of Landa’s mid-upper residential district.
Oliver sought out the Bathory Family, who resided in this area.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet.”
“It’s not as if we could refuse, given you provided this house and our living expenses.”
The current head of the Bathory Family, Erzsébet Ünner, replied with a cold courtesy.
“Please, don’t feel obligated. As I mentioned, I provided this home as a gesture of apology, so there’s no need to feel burdened.”
“Of course. It’s compensation for killing our mother, after all.”
“That’s not the intent… I apologize.”
“Enough. The fate of the weak is inevitably tragic. I understand that… So, what brings you here? Do you have questions?”
“No…”
Oliver trailed off, seated at the table.
Erzsébet Pal, the youngest of the Ünner sisters, served him coffee, while the other sisters gathered in the living room, curious about his visit.
They naturally formed a circle around him.
“You don’t have any questions… So, why are you here?”
“I came to apologize formally once again for what happened with Bathory.”
Erzsébet Ünner, usually calm and rational, clenched her teeth.
A surge of anger.
But Oliver did not deflect.
“So, you’re here to mock us?”
“I mean it. I am sincerely… sorry.”
“Last time, you claimed to be genuinely sorry as well. Was that a lie?”
“No. It’s just… this time, it feels a bit different.”
“Different?”
“Yes, I didn’t fully understand the pain of losing someone important back then, so while I was apologetic, I didn’t grasp the extent of your suffering.”
Oliver recalled Mari, who had fallen to protect him, taking a blade in his place…
“…But now, I think I understand a little better. So, I felt the need to apologize again. I think it’s the right thing to do.”
Oliver looked straight into Erzsébet Ünner’s eyes as he spoke.
She held his gaze briefly, but soon diverted her eyes, seemingly discomforted by his unyielding look.
“So, that’s the only reason you’re here?”
“No. Actually, I have something more to tell you. You might not like it, but I think it’s best to be honest.”
“…What is it?”
“I mentioned that I had no choice but to kill Bathory, saying it was to save my own life, right?”
“…”
“In truth, that was a lie. I could have subdued him by other means, but I chose to kill him, severing his limbs and finally his head.”
“…!!”
The Bathory sisters—Ünner, Orshoye, Katalin, Andrássy, and Pal—had to suppress their murderous intent, which now resurfaced with a vengeance.
The air grew tense, almost electrically charged.
If not for their respect for Oliver’s prowess, they might have attacked already.
However, Oliver remained seated, looking at Ünner without any defensive stance or gesture.
Ünner’s face twisted in a beastly snarl, warped by her simmering fury as she shouted,
“Why are you telling us this?”
“To offer an explanation for my actions. The reason I killed Bathory was because he threatened to dismember my dear friend first.”
Surprisingly, this statement caused the tension in the air to drop, like a taut whip relaxing.
The Bathory sisters’ rage was tempered by Oliver’s sheer presence.
Oliver stroked his coffee cup as he continued,
“At that moment, I was at Bathory’s mercy, and his threat was genuine… It infuriated me, and so I killed him.”
“…”
“I’m not claiming I had the right to kill Bathory. I’m also not saying I’m unrepentant.”
“…”
“However, I ask you to understand that your loved one was the one to target someone I cared deeply about first. Because… well, honestly, I’m not sure how best to put this.”
Oliver’s unanticipated revelation prompted Orshoye, Katalin, Andrássy, and Pal to exchange glances.
Only Ünner refrained, as if deciding her next move.
“Who on earth is this person so precious to you?”
“I wish I could tell you… but for now, I can’t. Because of the people down there. Are they apprentices of the Flesh Chef?”
Oliver’s gaze pierced into the lower level of the living room, where he sensed someone.
The presence of raw, chaotic emotions and magic was palpable, like a heap of different-colored clay molded together.
“You noticed!”
Beneath the living room floor.
A shout echoed as black energy, shaped like a blade of condensed emotion, burst upward, aiming at Oliver.
Simultaneously, the Ünner sisters prepared to pounce on him.
However, with a firm look and a slight shake of his hand, Oliver managed to stop them.
“…”
Using his Necromancer’s Sight, Oliver perceived the blade from below and sidestepped it with ease, extracting a portion of the energy and reshaping it into black magic that enveloped his body and quarterstaff.
The floor beneath Oliver gave way, unable to bear the force of the attack, and he plunged downwards—just as he intended.
As soon as he descended, he was met by a man wielding a butcher’s cleaver in each hand.
The man’s teeth were all filed to sharp points, as if by a steel grinder.
“Haha! You came down willingly! I, the apprentice of the Flesh Chef, shall—”
—Wham!
“Apologies, but this matter is more pressing.”
Using his downward momentum, Oliver thrust his quarterstaff forward, not only shattering the butcher’s cleavers but also smashing his mouth.
In a single strike.