The white Magic Tower radiated an elegant aura.
At its highest floor, an old man let out a sigh today as well.
‘Does this mean my dream can never come true?’
He was born with talent.
He had heard the word “genius” so often that it became tiresome.
He could accomplish anything he set his mind to with ease.
When he became the Master of the Magic Tower at the young age of nineteen, he believed the word “impossible” did not exist in his dictionary.
It was the brightest and most glorious period of his life.
The time when he believed he could achieve anything.
But after twenty years of dedicating himself to the establishment of a magical system, the eyes of this man, nearing his forties, held nothing but deep resignation and helplessness.
There was no trace of vitality on his face.
Dark circles under his eyes and a prickly beard, unshaven and rough.
As he stared at his reflection, the Tower Master had no choice but to admit it.
He had wasted his life chasing an unattainable dream.
‘Perhaps it was arrogance.’
To think that a human could comprehend the language of the gods.
This was punishment for harboring such presumptuous thoughts.
Decades had passed since he devoted himself to the study of runic characters, yet there had been no progress.
Even after pouring his entire life into it, all he had gained was the conclusion that these characters were not meant for humans.
He could no longer persist stubbornly.
As the White Magic Tower Master, he bore the responsibility of guiding everyone.
Admitting that all his efforts had been like a madman mistaking a windmill for a giant, he resolved to wake up from this dream.
It was at that moment when he made this decision that hurried footsteps echoed.
A magician burst into the room without permission, shouting urgently.
“Master! Someone claims to have deciphered the runes!”
Someone had appeared who might fulfill his long-held wish.
However, the Tower Master’s face remained calm and indifferent.
Anyone with a bit of thought would know better.
Each rune carried thousands of meanings.
When one rune combined with another, its meaning transformed entirely, creating countless possibilities.
On top of that, there were no consistent rules for the reading sequence.
‘What human could fully comprehend such a language?’
It was nonsense, meant to catch his attention and secure funding.
The fact that someone used rune deciphering as bait made him doubt their intelligence even further.
‘At least come up with a plausible lie if you want to fool someone.’
It was childish nonsense that only a kid might genuinely believe.
And this was no exaggeration—only one child had ever spouted such absurdity before him.
‘That was more than ten years ago, wasn’t it?’
He recalled a golden-eyed child knocking on the White Magic Tower’s door.
A boy with wild claims that he could still vividly remember.
“Let’s make a deal. I’ll tell you the essence of magic, but you have to find a way to increase my mana capacity.”
The boy wore ragged clothes.
A child from the slums daring to approach the Tower Master.
Yet the Tower Master didn’t slap him away like another noble might have.
He had a soft spot for children.
‘With that face, he’ll probably break a lot of hearts when he grows up.’
The boy had sharp eyes, and as he tousled the boy’s hair, the Tower Master offered some helpful advice.
“Sorry, but you should give up on your dream.
Your constitution is hopelessly unsuitable for magic.
You’d be better off finding another path.
Unless you reincarnate as a dragon, there’s no solution.”
Hearing this, the boy frowned deeply, his face twisted with frustration.
“Then at least pass this magic down to future generations.”
The child spoke of fantastical ideas:
A spell that rained down meteors endlessly, creating a meteor shower.
A sealing technique that cut off and froze an opponent’s time.
A reversal magic that could read and alter one’s destiny.
All childish fantasies.
“The last one isn’t complete yet, but I’m starting to grasp the concept of runes. I should have everything ready in two or three months.”
The boy even declared that he had mastered runes.
‘How could an adult not dismiss it as a joke?’
When the boy insisted it wasn’t a lie, claiming that runes were just another language he had started to pick up, the Tower Master had to set him straight.
He wasn’t someone who had time to waste on nonsense.
“If it’s real magic, then demonstrate it for me.”
With that, he silenced the boy and handed him some pocket change, sending him off.
“I had forgotten about it for so long.”
‘Who would have thought someone else would spout such nonsense?’
The scammer, whose intellect seemed to match that of an eight-year-old child, was certainly pathetic.
However, what concerned him more was the junior magician who urgently delivered the rumor as if it were breaking news.
“You’re too naive for your own good. What will you do if you start believing every rumor you hear?”
He patted the young magician on the shoulder as he spoke.
“This time, it’s real! You’ve been so buried in your research that you wouldn’t know how famous this new professor is…”
A martial artist who had reached the pinnacle of swordsmanship.
A mentor who had trained two Sword Masters.
A once-in-a-generation genius who could cast the legendary meteor spell, Meteor Storm, repeatedly.
The more he listened, the deeper his concerns grew.
To believe such exaggerations sincerely—this junior must have been utterly duped by a fraud.
The Tower Master decided that the young magician needed a wake-up call.
With that, he accepted a notebook titled Interpretation and Application of Nine Basic Runes.
It was said to be a leaked memo from a student.
Half-listening to the explanation, the Tower Master arranged the runes described in the notebook and decided to test them.
As expected, the results exceeded perfection and bordered on beauty.
His face was momentarily overcome with shock.
No matter how many times he tested it, the result didn’t change.
The theories written in the notebook were so profound that even he couldn’t fully grasp them.
Yet, every example described within was flawlessly executable.
This could mean only one thing.
The author of this document had understood it.
They had comprehended the language of the gods, forbidden to mere humans.
His hands trembled involuntarily. His legs felt weak.
The Tower Master urgently asked the name of this professor.
The reply came quickly: “Riyan.”
‘But why did that name feel so familiar?’
He snatched the newspaper from the junior magician’s hands.
Before long, his eyes landed on an image—a striking young man with white hair and golden eyes.
Without a doubt, it was the same child from before, now grown into an adult.
For a moment, the Tower Master was speechless.
This couldn’t be mere coincidence.
‘How could the child who had once claimed to instinctively understand runes now achieve such remarkable results?’
The boy had truly touched the language of the gods.
At such a young age, he had surpassed the entirety of human history.
And that genius had once made a promise.
“I’ll teach you the essence of magic. I’ll even pass on my unique magic techniques to you.”
But it was the Tower Master himself who had turned him away.
Frantically, he rummaged through his desk drawers.
Of course, he hadn’t kept a record of the child’s nonsense.
Recalling the details of what he had dismissed so casually was impossible.
His face grew dark with despair.
He wasn’t devoid of conscience, of course.
He knew that he was the cause of this dire situation—he had turned away the opportunity when the boy came to him and failed to bring him into the White Magic Tower.
But in the end, he was only human.
The boy who once looked up to him was now backed by a primeval dragon, grinning smugly without even sparing him a glance.
‘How could he maintain his composure in such a situation?’
Ugly emotions bubbled to the surface—regret, desperation, obsession.
It was obvious what someone overwhelmed by such emotions would do.
With a resolute expression, the middle-aged man strode forward.
‘I’ll apologize! Just come back to our tower!’
He was ready to grab Riyan by the pants and beg.
***
When he opened his eyes, the familiar ceiling greeted him.
But the sensation he felt was anything but familiar.
For some reason, he was lying down, wearing only his shirt, his coat missing entirely.
Even worse, he was sprawled on the bed with his shoes still on, a clear sign that he had been completely drunk the night before.
‘So I blacked out completely.’
He couldn’t remember anything that had happened.
His head throbbed as though it might explode at any moment.
‘Where was his dress shirt?’
Searching the floor yielded no results, so he simply grabbed casual clothes from the wardrobe and threw them on.
Half-asleep and dealing with a massive hangover, he could barely think straight.
While he was contemplating how to cure his hangover, a noise caught his attention.
Voices, loud and chaotic, filtered through from beyond the door.
‘What on earth is happening out there?’
Opening the door, he was met with a swarm of people.
They seemed to be reporters, and they were rushing toward him.
The flashing lights of their cameras blinded him momentarily.
He froze, confused by the unexpected scene.
But soon, realization dawned, and a smile crept onto his lips.
The sight before him could only mean one thing.
‘Finally… I’ve done it!’
For people to make such a commotion, it was clear.
Whatever he had done, it must have been something monumental.