Little Pink Starfish

Since entering the Magic Tower, Ishar had never once had his lab successfully broken into. And ever since becoming the Tower Master, he had reinforced it with even more advanced barrier magic.

Which is why the others spent two full weeks meticulously planning their break-in. Once preparations were complete, they put their plan into action.

The result:

“Tower Master, please… just let this one slide.”

“Come on, Tower Master. This is our first time, can’t we get a pass?”

“Please at least let me keep the Zerojeni II replica… I beg you…”

The three of them ended up hanging side by side, suspended in midair, pleading pitifully.

“Tsk.”

The very ones who had once dutifully addressed him as “Senior” before he became Tower Master now begged together like common criminals. Ishar clicked his tongue, his displeasure obvious.

“Didn’t I tell you that if you need something, follow procedure and submit a request?”

“But Tower Master, paperwork is just such a hassle,” Amon replied.

Ishar snapped his fingers. Instantly, Zerojeni II, standing by his side, opened its mouth wide and swallowed Amon whole.

“…”

“…”

“You two left. Answer.”

“Tower Master, isn’t this the rule of the Tower? If you need something, steal it fair and square! Take it for yourself! Don’t get caught! Tower Master, you did it too when you joined, didn’t you?”

“That may be, but I never drilled a hole through someone’s lab floor.”

With that calm reply, Zerojeni II swallowed J.N. as well. Now only Rekayan remained, facing Ishar.

“Tower Master, I’ve been thinking—”

“Swallow him.”

“Wait, why—!”

“You always say something useless whenever your openings are too long.”

“Oh, now that you mention it, you’re right.”

Despite the fear, Rekayan couldn’t help but admire Ishar’s sharp judgment—even as he was promptly swallowed by Zerojeni II.

Though he punished those who dared break into his lab, the newly-appointed Tower Master Ishar had no hesitation in helping other mages, just like before.

Unlike the previous Tower Master, he willingly granted access to expensive materials when a reasonable explanation was given.

Thanks to that, the mages made more progress than ever before and began seeing tangible results in their research.

Rekayan believed those peaceful days would continue—he spent his time either aiming for Ishar’s lab or buried in his own research.

But before long, it happened.

“Gyaaahhh!”

“Aaaah!”

A sinister wave of mana swept across the entire Tower. By the time the mages sensed something was wrong, all the mages on the lower floors had already perished.

Bodies of fellow mages—once juniors or comrades—now wrapped in black tendrils, stumbled forward and brutally impaled any survivors.

“What the hell is going on?!”

“It’s… a Grimoire. The Grimoire’s been unleashed!”

“That maniac Sezern finally screwed everything up!”

“Where’s the Tower Master?!”

“He went to Erde Academy today!”

Like wildfire spreading across dry reeds, death swept through the Tower, all because one mage had accidentally obtained a Grimoire.

Mages fleeing for their lives were either physically killed or overtaken by the Grimoire’s power, falling into madness and launching spells in all directions.

Some tried to escape the Tower, but the Grimoire, as if it had a will of its own, refused to let anyone leave.

The mana soaked in corrupted malice consumed their bodies and chased down those fleeing to the Tower Master’s quarters.

Even while running, Rekayan tried every spell he could think of to escape the Grimoire’s influence. None worked.

“…Should’ve written a will in advance.”

By the time they reached the Tower Master’s door, only a few were left alive. Rekayan looked down at Nil in his arms.

The youngest in the Tower was trembling, pale as a sheet.

Even amidst this chaos, even though they were all crazed researchers, everyone wanted at least this child to survive. So many had willingly sacrificed themselves just to get Nil this far.

“Our Tower Master might faint when he comes back and sees this. Everyone’s probably dead, except those outside the Tower or hiding in Zerojeni II’s mouth.”

As Rekayan jiggled the Tower Master’s locked door, he hid the dazed, terrified Nil behind his back.

“Ugh… uh…!”

He heard Nil groaning in pain behind him. Her unstable mana swirled, and before him loomed the nightmare-like force of the massive Grimoire, opening its black jaws wide. It had begun to take form.

Rekayan took a deep breath and unleashed every last drop of his mana to cast a spell.

It was an attack spell he had crafted long ago. As it activated, his mana drained rapidly, leaving him dizzy. But it seemed to work—the Grimoire began to burn brightly.

Damn… light-based magic was the answer after all.

He clung to that thought, sustaining the conjured holy flame. If he could just hold out until Ishar returned, maybe he—at the very least, Nil—could survive.

That was his hope.

“—Guh?!”

“Heehee… we’re all gonna die… heeheehee… DIE!”

A massive impact pierced through his lungs. At the same time, a black tendril shot from the Grimoire and burrowed into Rekayan’s heart.

Collapsing to the floor, Rekayan looked up at Nil—no longer the bright-eyed child. Dark red tears streamed from her eyes as she grinned in madness.

Ah… so in the end, you were consumed.

Every mage eventually faces madness. In Nil’s case, it had swallowed her fear and amplified it.

Identical black tendrils pierced through her small body, just as they had through him.

Rekayan felt them squirm through his entire being—not a physical sensation, but a soul-crushing one, bringing a kind of terror he had never known.

He realized that once his heart stopped, he would no longer be himself. The Grimoire would claim him, make him hurt those he loved.

He would never be free again.

And as that truth sank in, the image that came to mind was Ishar—who wasn’t there.

Ishar… I won’t be able to keep our promise…

He had vowed to remind Ishar of his sins whenever Ishar lost himself. Now, Rekayan couldn’t even fulfill that boast.

How much would Ishar sneer when he saw Rekayan as a puppet of the Grimoire?

As pain tore through his soul and the Grimoire’s horrific laughter echoed in his mind, Rekayan moved his hand.

A jolt of pain shot through him, blood from Nil’s attack rising from his lungs and spilling from his mouth. He dipped his fingers in it.

His hand refused to move properly. But biting down hard enough to split his lip, he forced his body back to life.

Dark drops of corrupted mana began to mix into the blood pooling beneath him, but he moved.

On the relatively clean floor, he etched what would be his final words with bloodstained fingers—praying it wouldn’t be washed away by his own bleeding.

Tap.
As if that had been his limit, the moment the message was written, all strength drained from his hand.

Rekayan let the world fade. The last thing he felt was the Grimoire’s will completely subsuming his mind.

---

When he opened his eyes again, Rekayan assumed the nightmare—the one where the Grimoire tried to dominate his soul—had begun.

Because the last person he had thought of, the one he had longed to see, was looking down at him.

“You’re insufferable.”

Ishar wasn’t his usual clean and composed self. His pale blue and white hair was disheveled, his face drawn, and pain was clearly etched into his deep violet eyes.

“You’re really insufferable. ‘It’s not your sin,’ huh? How could you leave that kind of final message in a situation like that?”

Looking utterly dumbfounded, Ishar bit his lip.

Fresh blood trickled down lips that must’ve been bitten countless times. Rekayan blinked.

He wanted to say something, but couldn’t. Ishar looked so miserable that one wrong word might actually get him punched.

“I let it go when you arrogantly said you’d remind me of my sins. I didn’t want to push it onto Shuzel. But now you dare say this isn’t my fault? That’s too much. It is my sin, Rekayan. All of it. The 179 mages consumed by the Grimoire, your death—this is my sin.”

Rekayan tried moving his hand—it responded.

He cautiously sat up. Thankfully, there was no pain.

Just a deep lethargy. His body felt weak, like he had just woken from a long slumber.

“Ah.”

And the moment he registered that weariness, instinct whispered to him.

He was alive… but not truly.

“You brought me back by tethering me to the Grimoire, didn’t you.”

Ishar nodded gravely. In his violet eyes, guilt shimmered.

That expression told Rekayan all he needed to know: Ishar couldn’t save him otherwise, but couldn’t bear to let him die either. So he bound him.