The interior of the Sinux Magic Tower was just as imposing as its exterior—walls of polished obsidian-black stone that drank in the light rather than reflecting it. The air inside was cool and faintly metallic, carrying the faint scent of alchemical smoke and old parchment.
There were no paintings of illustrious Magi or ostentatious trophies made from slain monsters. No golden chandeliers, no decorative marble columns. The design was austere and stripped of anything unnecessary—a perfect reflection of the pragmatic ethos of the Magi: power, not decoration, was the ultimate statement.
The first level was wide and bustling, its high ceilings supported by thick pillars carved with subtle, functional runes that helped regulate the tower's ambient mana. This was the gathering place for apprentices—a hive of trade, chatter, and opportunistic scheming.
Dozens of stalls had been set up in neat rows. At some, merchants offered rare metals that shimmered faintly with elemental power. Others displayed rows of potions in crystalline vials, the liquids inside swirling with magic. Some stalls were stacked with bundles of dried herbs, chunks of monster bone, racks of gleaming weapons, or glimmering spirit stones.
Not all stalls were for commerce. Some were dedicated to administrative functions—mission postings, merit point exchanges, registration, and internal resource management.
In one corner, a group of apprentices clustered in front of huge magical screens on the wall, their surfaces flickering with mission listings, bounties, and the occasional warning notice.
Near the center of the hall stood a circular blue platform, wide enough for a dozen people to stand on at once. Beside it loomed the statue of a lion, its stone eyes aglow with faint arcane light. This was the portal leading to the tower's upper floors—a guarded privilege that no mere newcomer could use freely.
Zatiel and Ezequiel entered without slowing their pace, heading directly toward the management center. Their arrival did not go unnoticed. Heads turned. Conversations dipped to murmurs. A few smirks and raised eyebrows passed between onlookers.
It wasn't simply because they were unfamiliar faces.It was because Zatiel was dragging a man by the neck—a man whose face was bloodied and whose movements betrayed both pain and humiliation.
That man was Nick.
The same Nick who, moments earlier, had tried to rob them at the gates. Now, his earlier bravado had drained away, leaving only fear…and something else lurking in his eyes.
Hatred.
He didn't resist, didn't bark threats. He obeyed, leading them toward the management desk as instructed. But he did not bother to mask the venom in his gaze when Zatiel wasn't looking directly at him.
Or rather—when Nick thought he wasn't looking.
Zatiel, of course, saw it as clearly as if the man had shouted it aloud. He didn't react. Nick was beneath his notice in terms of threat level. Killing him outright would cause unnecessary trouble—especially here, before they had formally joined the tower. While towers often turned a blind eye to apprentice skirmishes, killing was another matter.
Even if no one cared about Nick personally, his death could be used as an excuse for a Rank 1 Magus—or worse—to intervene. And from the weight of power saturating this place, Zatiel was certain the one in control of Sinux was well above Rank 1. He was not yet in a position to take on someone of that caliber head-on.
They reached the management counter after a few minutes. Four apprentices were stationed here, each seated behind a reinforced wooden desk layered with protective runes. All were Rank 2 Apprentices, their energy signatures steady but unremarkable.
Zatiel approached the one who was unoccupied—a middle-aged man with thinning hair, his nose buried in a book. Judging by his age and low rank, Zatiel immediately recognized him as someone with no real chance of advancing to Magus level. This was likely his career until death.
"Hello," Zatiel said evenly, "I want to know the procedure to become part of the tower—and where I can exchange magical creature parts for magic crystals."
The man barely glanced up at first, his expression one of practiced indifference. But then his gaze shifted to the figure Zatiel was dragging, and his eyes widened in surprise.
Nick was, after all, well known here—feared even—for his habit of preying on newcomers. Seeing him half-conscious and humiliated was a shock.
"What are you doing with him?" the apprentice asked, his tone cautious.
"Oh, he's just our guide," Zatiel replied casually, as if discussing the weather. "Don't worry about it. You haven't answered my question."
That blunt dismissal seemed to shake the man into focus. "Ah—yes, of course. My name's Richard. I'll give you the information immediately."
It was clear Richard didn't want to risk offending someone who could drag a Rank 3 Apprentice through the tower like baggage.
"Good," Zatiel said. He released his grip on Nick's neck, letting the man drop to the floor with a sharp thud. "You're no longer needed. Leave."
Nick staggered upright. No insults, no threats—just silent retreat toward the exit. But his eyes, if one cared to look closely, burned with murderous intent.
He's not entirely stupid, Zatiel thought. He knows better than to try something here.
Ezequiel, however, caught that same look, and his assassin's instincts flared. Unfinished threats were liabilities. His body tensed, ready to move in and end the matter permanently.
Before he could act, a voice rang clear in his mind—Zatiel's voice, carried through the Primordialis-Core link.
Don't. The trouble isn't worth it right now. If we kill him here, we'll attract more problems than he's worth. Wait until we can do it without anyone knowing. He'll come back on his own soon enough.
Ezequiel exhaled slowly and stepped back. "Understood."
"Sorry for the distraction," Zatiel said aloud. "Continue."
Richard nodded quickly. "To join the tower and use its facilities, you need to sign a contract. For apprentices, it's straightforward—your main obligation is to complete a certain number of tower missions within a set period. You can do more for additional rewards. Payments are in magic crystals and merit points. Merit points are used for rare resources that money alone can't buy."
He handed over two parchments. The contracts were simple—binding, but not overly restrictive.
Good. Access to the facilities will cost us, but we'll have a safe place to rest and work. No major limitations.
"Fine. What else?" Zatiel asked.
"We need to scan your magnetic force field—standard procedure to check for wanted criminals."
The magnetic force field was an energetic signature unique to every living being, shaped by the mana and life force within them. It was far more reliable than physical appearance, which could be altered by illusion or transformation.
Let them scan. My transformation into a Neo-Demon changed everything about mine.
"Begin," Zatiel said.
Richard took a crystal from his desk, murmured a command, and a wave of energy swept over them.
[Bip… external energy attempting scan. Interrupt?] the A.I. Chip prompted."Denied," Zatiel replied inwardly.
The scan lasted three seconds. Data flowed into Richard's crystal. He glanced at it, then looked up.
"No records of crimes for either of you. Sign the contract, and you're in."
They signed. Richard recorded the information and gestured for them to follow. "I'll take you to collect your magic robes and guidebooks. The same place handles material exchanges."
He led them to another stall nearby, manned by an elderly Rank 2 Apprentice with wiry white hair.
"Old Hal, these are the new apprentices. They need robes and want to exchange magical creature parts."
Hal's eyes narrowed. "Who are the—oh. You're them."
He had seen them earlier, dragging Nick. He wasted no time. Black robe for Zatiel, white for Ezequiel—matching their hair. Each also received a smooth crystal.
"This contains the tower's basic information—facilities, classes, rules. Press it to your forehead and direct your consciousness inward to read it."
Ezequiel immediately began exploring the crystal's contents.
Zatiel took a different approach. A.I. Chip, scan and imprint directly.
[Bip… scanning… completed. Uploading.]
Information flashed into his mind instantly.
While Zatiel processed the data, Hal was examining the contents of their packs. He moved efficiently, noting each item and its classification.
"Most of these creatures are Rank 2 or 3 Apprentice level," Hal said after a few minutes. "According to the tower's pricing scale, that comes to… two hundred twenty-three magic crystals."
Richard's head jerked up. "That much?" His monthly pay was ten crystals. This was over a year's income in one go.
Hal, unfazed by such numbers, completed the transaction and handed Zatiel a small leather pouch heavy with the cool weight of crystals.
"Thank you," Zatiel said.
"It's nothing. If you take missions, you'll be delivering materials here often," Hal replied.
They had barely turned to leave when Richard called after them. His expression was troubled. Once they stepped aside, he leaned in and lowered his voice.
"You should be careful. Nick's older brother is a Pseudo-Magus. And a strong one. He won't ignore this."
Zatiel studied him for a beat, then reached into his pouch and handed him thirty crystals.
"For the warning."
Richard's face lit up. "You're welcome."
Ezequiel had overheard. His brow furrowed slightly. "Master… will this cause trouble?"
Zatiel's tone was unconcerned. "Don't worry, little EZ. As long as they're in our rank, nothing can threaten us."
Ezequiel's features eased back into calm. To him, his master's words were absolute.
Zatiel smiled faintly. He doesn't yet realize just how strong he's become. Three months ago he was a normal boy. Now, he can defeat a Rank 3 Apprentice barehanded. If not for Nick's reinforced body, the first blow would have killed him outright.