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SM : [105] Your Soul Mate Is Here!
🕑 Added 2024-05-18 16:00:12 +0000 UTC"Are you watching me, Zelretch..."
Reinhard slowly raised his hand, covering half of his face as he gazed at the brilliant stars above.
The young man with black hair had an enigmatic smile as his deep, penetrating eyes shone through his fingers. The Lords stared at Reinhard, who was seated in the Department of Spiritual Evocation's seat, suddenly and inexplicably calling out the illustrious name of the Clock Tower's former Wizard Marshal to the skies.
Why was this guy suddenly addressing the Wizard Marshal directly by name? Could it be that the Wizard Marshal himself was truly watching this place right now?
In an instant, the hearts of the lordswere filled with a mixture of excitement, fear, and anticipation.
The brown-haired girl, Barthomeloi Lorelei, hearing the name Zelretch, involuntarily trembled, her wrist gripping the armrest of her seat. After all, Zelretch was the pinnacle that every magus in the Clock Tower aspired to reach. As the current Wizard Marshal, her title was inherited directly from the legendary figure.
However...
As Reinhard's words echoed through the room, nothing happened.
"..."
"..."
"..."
They stared at Reinhard. It seemed his attempt to summon attention was not very effective.
"Alright, jewel old man."
Seeing this, Reinhard didn't even bother with formalities anymore and directly called him an old man. With Aatrox having returned to his body, Reinhard couldn't believe Zelretch wouldn't pay attention to this matter. Moreover, his own dimensional travel phenomenon...
To say it had nothing to do with the wielder of the Second Magic was something even a dog wouldn't believe.
"Feigning ignorance, huh? Don't want to show yourself?"
Reinhard smiled, tapping his fingers on the armrest of his chair.
"Then today, I'll just flatten the Clock Tower and see if you'll come out to show your face."
His tone was casual, yet his words decided the fate of one of the three major mage associations in the world.
"..."
"..."
"..."
Really, threatening the Clock Tower to draw out Zelretch made them feel like sacrificial offerings!
If these words were heard outside, people would think this guy was incredibly arrogant, or simply out of his mind... an undeniable lunatic.
However...
At this moment, the Lords were eerily silent.
The Department of Creation and the Department of General Fundamentals.
The two democratic lords, close to the Department of Modern Magecraft Theory, showed helpless bitter smiles.
They couldn't stop Reinhard. Their good relationship meant they wouldn't be purged, but the old folks would have to fend for themselves.
The Department of Mineralogy, the Department of Lore, the Department of Curses, the Department of Archaeology, and the Department of Individual Fundamentals.
The wavering neutral lords felt slightly offended, but when they saw the figure of the witch behind Reinhard, they felt relieved.
Indeed, if it was that witch, she herself was the embodiment of mystery. If she wished to establish a magus family, countless magus would flock to her at her mere word, and the Clock Tower would be of no consequence.
The Department of Spiritual Evocation, the Department of Zoology, and the Department of Botany.
The three aristocratic factions' representatives felt genuine fear and trepidation. If Reinhard were to flatten the Clock Tower, they would undoubtedly be the first to go.
Seated in the Department of Astromancy's chair, Olga Marie, who was representing her father, had eyes that were sparkling brightly.
So cool!
Under the table, the silver-haired girl's legs, wrapped in red tights, squirmed uneasily, a strange warmth rising in her lower abdomen.
Though a great upheaval in the Clock Tower would undoubtedly affect the Animusphere family, an aristocratic faction...
But, the way Reinhard spoke was irresistibly charming! So, flattening it was fine!
She would support all of Reinhard's decisions wholeheartedly. Surely, her father would praise her for this, right?
Faced with such audacious words, Barthomeloi Lorelei frowned.
However, gazing at the witch, she, who had always revered noble bloodlines, felt a surge of respect and chose to remain silent.
Indeed, if one had the strength, what did it matter to flatten the Clock Tower?
As the perfect embodiment of aristocracy, Barthomeloi Lorelei always adhered to the principle of submitting to the strong, believing that even among Lords, they should submit to those of nobler lineage.
In a sense, she was an extreme aristocrat.
Or rather, an extreme strength-worshipper.
Power was the ultimate truth of the world.
Although Reinhard's achievements were still considered minor in her eyes, this sleeping magus seemed to possess a quality that even bewitched the witch... what was that mysterious element?
Even the inherently indifferent current Wizard Marshal felt a tinge of curiosity.
But as Reinhard's words settled.
Suddenly, in this silent atmosphere...
Ring~ Ring~ Ring~
A strange ringtone echoed from Lord Meluastea's body, the lord of the Department of Archaeology and acting head of the Department of Mineralogy.
The brown-haired, seemingly unremarkable middle-aged man hesitantly took his phone out of his pocket.
Here, 50 kilometers underground, in the heart of the Dragon's Cavern, what call could possibly come through?
Seeing the name Kischur displayed on the screen, Meluastea's hand trembled violently, causing the phone to slip from his grasp and fall onto the table.
Kischur, the name of none other than the legendary Wizard Marshal, also served as the name of the Department of Mineralogy that he had founded.
Everyone saw the caller ID.
Expressions on their faces turned incredibly complex.
Did he actually manage to summon him?
Reinhard, he really summoned a call from the Wizard Marshal?!
Although the call was directed to Meluastea's phone, he dared not answer it himself, his hands shaking, he pushed the phone towards Reinhard.
"Reinhard, please..."
Meluastea instinctively switched to respectful language.
The black-haired young man squinted, picked up the phone, and glanced at the caller ID.
Then, he pressed the speakerphone button and placed the phone on the table.
"Jewel old man?"
There was a moment of silence on the other end.
Then, the voice of an old man, weary and deep, slowly emanated from the phone.
"...It is I."
"Speak your piece." Reinhard said, his eyes downcast. "If you've been watching me, you should know what I want."
"The Department of Mineralogy, give all your support to Reinhard."
Zelretch's voice echoed ethereally in the hall, emphasizing the point.
"Whatever he demands... give everything."
"Yes, Master." Meluastea replied, his voice trembling.
As the founder of the Department of Mineralogy, Zelretch's commands were like divine decrees to its magi.
However... hearing this, Reinhard frowned.
"That's not what I want."
"...Unfortunately, that is all I can offer you, Reinhard."
"Why? Why just a phone call? Zelretch, I have many questions for you."
Reinhard glared at the phone.
"You, the master of the Second Magic, should be able to traverse dimensions freely. Why a phone call... can't you meet me in person?"
"Once, perhaps. But not now, Reinhard... I cannot appear in this world."
Zelretch's voice was laden with exhaustion.
"My condition... is very poor. Making this call was already my limit. If you can, please come and help me."
The Lords were shocked.
This was the Wizard Marshal who had once defeated the Crimson Moon. What kind of trouble could be severe enough for him to describe his state as very poor?
And he was asking Reinhard for help?
Could Reinhard have mastered the Second Magic as well?
"What’s wrong with you?" Reinhard pressed. "And how can I help?"
"I cannot say."
"...Are you kidding me? All you old geezers who live too long have this cryptic way about you. Do you believe I won't erect a gender-swapped catgirl statue of you at the Clock Tower?"
"Feel free, such trivial matters are of no concern... it is not that I don't want to tell you, but that I can't." The old man's weary voice paused. "...I cannot speak of it in this world."
Upon hearing these words, the Lords exchanged glances, unable to grasp the full meaning of Zelretch's cryptic message, but sensing something profoundly disturbing.
Reinhard and the witch exchanged a knowing look.
"Reality pollution?"
"Exactly..." Zelretch seemed to sigh. "I must end this call soon. I am buying you as much time as I can.
"My final piece of advice...
"Do not attempt to learn the Second Magic... at least not until you are fully prepared to face Them.
"The Second Magic is now a trap."
Beep.....
The old man's exhausted voice, accompanied by a prolonged beep, faded away in the conference hall.
The overwhelming flood of information left the Lords in a state of stunned silence.
Why couldn't it be spoken? What did it mean that the Second Magic was a trap? And who were the Them Zelretch referred to?
Everyone's eyes were fixed on Reinhard, seeking some answers.
Waver let out a long sigh.
Among the Lords present, only he, Reinhard, and Morgan seemed to grasp the true implications of Zelretch's words.
The truth would terrify this bunch of fools into wetting their pants.
"Don't ask about things you shouldn't. This is beyond your understanding."
What kind of beings are magi?
Being unscrupulous is a compliment for them.
Their quest for the arcane and their desire for the Root make them capable of anything.
Therefore, Reinhard would certainly not reveal the impending chaos to these pinnacle magi. Some of the morally bankrupt nobles of the Clock Tower were practically breeding grounds for Tzeentch's blessings.
As the saying goes, don't be too much of a magus.
"Let's get straight to the point. Let's discuss the more pressing matter that concerns all of you...
"What exactly do I want?"
Reinhard tapped the table, smiling.
"The answer is simple... I’m here with my fiancée to retrieve what rightfully belongs to her."
Hearing these words, the Lords exchanged glances, bitter smiles appearing on their faces.
The moment they heard the name Morgan le Fay, their well-laid plans were upended.
Why convene the Grand Resolution in the Dragon's Heart?
The tales of Morgan's magical prowess, easily piercing Child of Einnashe, had spread far and wide.
Facing such a high-caliber Age of Gods magus, even with the advantage of their respective departments' strongholds, the outcome was uncertain.
But in the Dragon's Heart, the Clock Tower's central hub of the Spiritual Tomb of Albion, with its dense true ether and countless engraved family magic circles, the Lords had a fighting chance.
Unlocking the power reserves here would grant the Lords an immense boost in magical power, significantly amplifying their spells.
An Age of Gods magus, no matter how powerful, would see their magical aptitude greatly diminished in the modern era.
With these conditions in place, they believed they could hold their ground against any Age of Gods magus Reinhard might bring, achieving a balanced standoff.
At the very least, it gave them a position at the negotiating table.
Choosing this venue for the Grand Resolution was a calculated move to trap their prey.
Now, they found themselves trapped instead.
After all, the infamous enchantress Morgan le Fay was...
“This is my family's basement.” The witch said, adjusting her sunglasses with a detached tone. “You all should be the ones leaving.”
"Constructing these eyesore buildings without permission... I haven't even started dealing with you all one by one yet." The witch's voice turned icy, sending chills down their spines.
"Dear." Reinhard gently patted her hand, smiling. "Let's be elegant, not crude. No need for hidden threats."
"Alright, hubby❤️~" The witch smiled sweetly.
The Lords looked conflicted.
Morgan le Fay.
That name was the last thing any of them wanted to hear.
An old man from the Department of Spiritual Evocation, writhing like a worm on the ground, used the moment of distraction to slowly and quietly crawl toward the exit of the conference hall.
As the Lord of the Department of Spiritual Evocation, his necromancy skills were unparalleled, and the Spiritual Tomb of Albion itself was essentially a dragon's skeleton. If he could escape, he would vanish without a trace, free as a bird.
The exit was within sight...
But just then, the young man with terrifying black hair squatted in front of him, smiling warmly.
"Lord Eulyphis~" Reinhard's pleasant voice greeted him.
“It seems too lenient if no one dies, making me appear too soft. So, I think I need to make an example... tell me, who do you think should be the example?
"Answer correctly, and you'll be rewarded. Answer incorrectly, and there will be punishment."
Rufleus looked up with great difficulty, his grey face twisted into a ghastly smile.
"Can we... negotiate?"
Reinhard tilted his head, still smiling.
"The dead don't speak."
Rufleus's eyes widened.
With a swift motion, the witch raised her finger, and a projected spiral lance pierced his heart.
Crack.
The blood-red crystal pendant on Rufleus's chest shattered.
Hundreds of terrifying, malevolent spirits burst forth, filling the conference room with a howling, eerie wind.
Yet, at that moment...
The spirits emerging from the pendant all shrieked in agony under the burning power of the spiral lance.
Amidst Rufleus's pained, trembling screams, and under the horrified gaze of the Lords, the necromancer, who had lived for centuries, was reduced to a charred corpse by Morgan's casual strike, crumbling into a pile of black ashes.
Silence.
Deathly silence.
His daughter was dead, his son-in-law killed, and his plot to infiltrate the Department of Mineralogy through an alliance with Kayneth had been thwarted by Meluastea from the Department of Archaeology.
Rufleus, who had often antagonized Reinhard and made various petty moves against the Department of Modern Magecraft Theory, was the perfect candidate to serve as an example.
Although the Lords had anticipated this possibility, Reinhard actually killing a Lord was a chilling reality.
In fact... this was just the tip of the iceberg.
Rufleus was, without a doubt, the most convenient target for Reinhard in this Grand Resolution.
Because the First Flame is this old man's weakness.
"Do not be afraid, everyone..." Touko Aozaki stood up and slowly took her seat among the Lords, who silently surrounded Reinhard.
The British Witch, the Grand Puppeteer, Dr. Heartless, and the famous detective El-Melloi II with his useless foster sister, Reines.
The formation of the Department of Modern Magecraft Theory gathered quietly behind Reinhard, making the black-haired young man sitting leisurely in his chair appear as a Dark Lord among the Lords.
Facing the silent Lords and the trembling nobles, Reinhard continued to smile, as always, with a warmth that belied the darkness of his words.
"As a Stellaris player, I've always been very democratic, very fair with rewards and punishments, and deeply passionate about love and peace."
Reinhard would never resort to using magus as mere power sources unless they were utterly worthless. Generally, magus had sharp minds, if anything, they should be utilized as useful assets.
"So, my stance should be very clear by now.
"The Spiritual Tomb of Albion has always belonged to Morgan. It is an inseparable territory and heritage in London... this is a strong declaration to Britannia!
"My poor fiancée, alone and wandering for over a thousand years, has now come to London only to reclaim what is rightfully hers.
"The Clock Tower was built on the ruins of Camelot... you have all usurped Morgan's assets, and now it's only right for you to return them.
"Therefore..."
"...I propose that Morgan le Fay be appointed as the next Director of the Clock Tower."
Reinhard interlocked his fingers and addressed the Lords before him with a gentle smile.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I trust there are no objections?"
The Lords stared in stunned silence, their mouths agape.
...Just this?
They had all mentally prepared themselves for Reinhard to claim the position of Director for himself.
What? Let Morgan be the Director?!
The Lords almost sighed in relief but didn't dare voice their thoughts in front of Reinhard.
Oh, please, by all means, take the seat!
At that moment, nobility and status were irrelevant. Before them stood a living embodiment of mystery. Announcing such a figure would herald a new golden era for the Clock Tower.
However...
Barthomeloi Lorelei's face took on a slightly complex expression.
"This matter is significant. It cannot be decided solely by the Lords."
After all, the current Director of the Clock Tower remained elusive, their true identity unknown to all.
Yet, this individual, rumored to be a direct disciple of King Solomon, had lived for over two thousand years, rarely participating in the Clock Tower's affairs.
Barthomeloi Lorelei, as the Vice Director was also a candidate for the Director's position. The Barthomeloi family had produced several Vice Directors and candidates over the millennium, but in two thousand years, the Director's position had never changed.
Another magus surviving from the Age of Gods.
Barthomeloi Lorelei knew only that the Director was still alive, but even as an Vice Director, she rarely saw the Director.
Their existence had become a symbol of the Clock Tower.
"I can yield the position of Vice Director to you, esteemed Lady Morgan, but the role of Director-"
Before she could finish her words, a voice interrupted her.
"...I agree.
"Let Miss Morgan serve as the next Director of the Clock Tower."
Barthomeloi Lorelei's expression froze on her face.
So did that of all the other Lords.
Reinhard furrowed his brows, looking up at the ceiling of the conference hall.
The voice, devoid of any discernible characteristics, was ethereal yet strangely familiar, drifting down from above.
"...The Director?"
Reinhard had never seen the Director, nor had he ever heard their voice until now.
Morgan glanced upward, her blue eyes shimmering with a shadowy haze, piercing through the thick layers of rock beneath the ground, reaching a distant depth.
But... she couldn't see.
Despite scanning the entire Clock Tower, she couldn't locate the source of the voice.
"Who are you?" Morgan's eyes narrowed. "What is your name?"
"Heh... just a nameless person." The voice chuckled. "It's heartening to see the youth so full of vigor."
Barthomeloi Lorelei abruptly stood up.
"You intend to relinquish the position of Director?!"
"This is the teacher's will... whatever Reinhard says, you must obey without question."
The enigmatic voice, as elusive as a shadow, faded away into the ether.
However, the term teacher struck terror into the hearts of the gathered Lords.
Because, the Director's teacher was...
"King Solomon?"
Reinhard murmured the name,
"Is this King Solomon's will?"
Who the hell is this guy anyway?
Reinhard, of course, knew who Solomon was, after all, the Old Testament's influence was widespread. But to be explicitly instructed... it implied that Solomon was watching him. Yet, Reinhard had never met Solomon.
Or perhaps, like Sesshōin Kiara, this Solomon was another of his future acquaintances?
This was precisely why Reinhard disliked cryptic individuals.
If they were old friends and had noticed his expansion on the timeline, why not just approach him directly like Morgan did?
Initially, Reinhard had planned to further pressure the hesitant Lords.
However, everything was going too smoothly, suspiciously so.
The entire situation reeked of an unsettling anomaly.
Zelretch, he could manage. But who was this Solomon figure?
King Solomon should have been dead for nearly three millennia, right? Could he still be alive? And had he foreseen this day, instructing his disciple to yield the position of Director?
"Could it be..." An alarming thought crossed Reinhard's mind, "That I am Solomon?"
He shivered because it seemed entirely plausible.
Which might explain why the Director's voice felt familiar.
Unfortunately, Reinhard could not find the answer at this moment.
With the support of the Jewel Old Man and the mysterious Director, the Lords had effectively aligned themselves with Reinhard.
Officially, Morgan was appointed as the new Director.
But everyone understood... whoever Reinhard wanted as Director would hold the position.
This enchantress, reputed to be the treacherous sorceress who led to Camelot's downfall, had survived over a thousand years. Why would she be so devoted to a modern magus like Reinhard?
Admittedly, everyone acknowledged... Reinhard's talent was beyond the constraints of the Clock Tower, even the title of Pride rank was merely a stepping stone for him.
However, considering Morgan's strength, finding a magus alive today who surpassed her was a question worth pondering.
So, why?
Was it simply because Reinhard was exceptionally capable in certain aspects?
Soon... the Lords received a shocking answer.
"I understand you all harbor suspicions about my intentions, fearing that I aim to open-source magecraft, which would be akin to desecrating your ancestors' graves.
"But rest assured... I have no desire to deconstruct the Clock Tower's disciplines, nor do I intend to interfere with your teaching progress. As for your secretive family legacies, I have no interest in prying into them.
"Prejudices are like mountains...
"The magus of the Clock Tower have deep-seated misunderstandings and biases against me." Reinhard sighed, with Morgan massaging his shoulders, the black-haired youth sighed deeply.
"In truth, I am a very reasonable person.
"What I aspire to build is a progressive Clock Tower, an inclusive Clock Tower, a civilized and harmonious Clock Tower, one that aligns with specialized magical theories and embodies the core values of a new era.
"I am not here to destroy the Clock Tower but to lead it... to guide us all towards a brighter future."
The modern magus familiar with Reinhard wholeheartedly agreed, deeply resonating with his words.
People's misconceptions about this Sleeping Magus ran too deep. Every word Reinhard spoke was simple yet sincere, filled with genuine passion... he meant every word.
The Lords, looking at Rufleus's ashes on the ground, nodded fervently like pecking chickens.
Yes, yes, everything you say is right, admitting defeat would mean losing the argument.
"So, I don't require any of your magical secrets or oaths of allegiance... Though it seems many of you are quite fond of walking sticks, please take care of your health as you age.
"On the contrary, with an open and progressive mindset, I bring you a foundational magical concept that I hope we can all study and develop together."
At Reinhard's signal, a complex document detailing the ley lines of London was distributed by Waver to the bewildered Lords.
"I know we all seek the Root, and I am no exception.
"But this path is exceedingly difficult, so challenging that individual efforts barely scratch the surface of the Swirl of the Root.
"Family legacies are essentially this approach... accumulating knowledge through generations to eventually reach the Root.
"However...
"Even generational legacies are too few, too slow, too inefficient... after all, in the past thousand years, has any family ever reached the Root?"
As he said this, Reinhard let out a sorrowful sigh, clutching his chest, his expression genuinely pained.
"Regrettably, no.
"Not a single one.
"So, do any of you believe you can glimpse the Root in your lifetime?"
Looking at the somber expressions on the faces of the Lords, Reinhard knew he had hooked them. He smiled.
"It's difficult, isn't it?
"The journey to reach the Root is arduous and distant, and human effort has its limits.
"Given this, as magus with high aspirations, why not leverage the power of more people to aid us? Why not enlist more magus to contribute to our pursuit of the Root?
"I propose we develop a thaumaturgical foundation together, which I have named the Root Chain. This is a chain forged and perpetuated in our quest for the Root."
Reinhard snapped his fingers.
The witch's shadow magecraft, meticulously prepared, unfurled behind him, forming a projection filled with various symbols and text, presented in an easily understandable format.
Pointing to the PPT he had created, Reinhard began his presentation.
"I invite you all to embed magic crests within London's ley lines, inscribing them with the Root Chain formula.
"Then, any magus in London can activate their unique crest, infusing the Root Chain with mana, magical achievements, or their research insights. In return, they will receive Root Coins based on the value of their contributions.
"Root Coins are not physical objects but unique spiritual information proofs that bind to the magus's spirit and can circulate along the ley lines with minimal mana consumption.
"Since this circulation relies on ley lines, any exchange or generation of Root Coins must undergo ley line verification.
"Thus, Root Coins cannot be counterfeited or forged, ensuring their security.
"Moreover, as long as one is within London's ley line coverage, Root Coins can be freely exchanged between magus, without even needing to know each other's identities... just a spiritual address will suffice, guaranteeing the freedom, secrecy, and convenience of Root Coins.
"The more magus contribute to and mine the Root Chain, the more robust the foundation will become, increasing the value of each Root Coin in terms of mana and mystery.
"And whether you're mining, storing, or trading Root Coins, I will not charge any interest."
Reinhard smiled and raised his fingers.
"Only a small transaction fee.
"So, I hope you will assist me in promoting this foundation swiftly... it undoubtedly benefits all magus, bolstering the Clock Tower's prestige and reputation, and providing tangible benefits to every magus pursuing the Root!
"And... as for the surplus mana and mystery we gain...
"The Clock Tower will, of course." Reinhard smiled, "Enjoy these blessings together."
The black-haired youth's words fell into silence.
The Lords stared in shock, their mouths wide enough to swallow a golden apple.
The top magus of the Clock Tower.
For a long time, they couldn't close their jaws.
"Madman.
"No, a genius, a monster.
"An idea worthy of a prodigy."
To draw in some, co-opt others, and suppress the rest... everyone understood this principle.
They had braced themselves, hearing the name Morgan le Fay, for Reinhard to invite, decapitate, and subjugate them.
But Reinhard seemed uninterested in harming them. Instead of coveting their magical achievements, he presented a thaumaturgical foundation to share.
The Lords could already envision the grandeur of the Root Chain once it was established.
Mana and mystery could be conveniently purchased, aiding their magical research.
Its secrecy, security, and freedom would guarantee its circulation, far more efficient than the previous barter system in the magical world.
No magus could resist the lure of mining Root Coins. The more they mined, the closer they would get to the Root.
Even the Lords present could see the immense benefits Root Coins would bring to their family's research.
No wonder...
No wonder he had won over the enchantress!
Many of the Lords had always looked down on modern magecraft.
Now they realized Reinhard was the most audacious among them!
Waver exhaled deeply.
What could he say? Admiring his student's brilliance, Waver felt the Clock Tower was like an unrefined mob.
The department of modern magecraft theory members looked at the Lords with disdain, as if they were a group of bumpkins.
So this is it.
Where's your pride? Your mystery? Your lineage?
Heartless gazed reverently at the black-haired youth's back, undoubtedly finding the master she would dedicate her life to.
This was... modern magecraft.
The Lords exchanged glances.
Barthomeloi Lorelei then spoke slowly, respectfully.
"A truly genius concept, Reinhard. Developing this foundation would undoubtedly make you worthy of a Grand title.
"However, spirit magecraft...
"The Clock Tower currently lacks a family skilled in this type of magecraft.
"Moreover, your approach... if I may be bold... seems very similar to Philosophy Magecraft in Asia?"
"Exactly." Reinhard nodded without hesitation. "Although I haven't studied from them, much of this inspiration indeed comes from Philosophy Magecraft.
"So... to forge this Root Chain foundation, I will lead the Department of Modern Magecraft Theory on an academic exchange visit to Asia to reference their Philosophy Magecraft foundation.
"Morgan, as the new Director, will accompany me.
"As for the procedures, you can contact them first."
Barthomeloi Lorelei, the Vice Director, placed a hand over her chest and bowed respectfully.
"I will personally convey your intentions to them."
The Lords appeared dazed, still immersed in the genius concept of Root Coins.
Other magus exchanged glances, sighing heavily.
"The Clock Tower is about to change."
"So, I believe you all understand my philosophy, and I want to present a fundamental premise... unity."
Reinhard nodded emphatically.
"I hope you can unite, for any element that undermines unity is our enemy.
"Those stubborn, opposing, backward remnants cannot bask in the glory of the Clock Tower.
"You know how to deal with them, don't you?"
Reinhard smiled, gesturing towards the vacant seat of the Spiritual Evocation Department.
The implication was clear.
"The Department of Summoning under the Department Spiritual Evocation, Rocco Belfeban , is quite capable. He can take over as the department head, and we assure you there won't be any disruptions."
"Very well." Reinhard nodded satisfactorily. "A few more matters."
"First, if your families have surplus investments, allocate them to the information industry as much as possible... things that won't incur losses, you understand.
"Second, every classroom must be equipped with notebooks and projectors as much as possible. If you don't know how, learn. Magus who can't keep up with the evolving times will be left behind in the currents of time.
"Third, offer courses in magical craftsmanship in all disciplines, hold monthly meetings to report your teaching progress to me."
Still learning traditional magecraft in this day and age?
The 21st century is the century of spiritual magecraft!
Reinhard must cultivate a reserve of talent who can quickly grasp spiritual magecraft to facilitate his plan for humanity's ascension.
"I believe the Clock Tower must find and differentiate itself from other magical organizations, exploring the specialized areas each of our department's magus excel in. We must be able to respond rapidly in various industries, utilize accumulated potential through simple reuse and combination to focus on strategies, find the finer points in crowded industries, and ultimately achieve value transfer efficiently.
"And what I want to emphasize is that the current Clock Tower still lacks methodology. There are many loopholes in fine-grained battles that need more team-building to refine and precipitate value, find powerful leverage points, achieve the coupling of team value, and build strong links in key paths..."
Reinhard spoke confidently, and seeing his assured demeanor, the Lords couldn't help but nod along.
"So, what does all this mean?"
Lord Meluastea secretly asked Lord Trambelio beside him.
"I don't understand either, but it sounds impressive." Lord Trambelio sighed. "Reinhard has the aura of a Director... "
...
"They don't understand a word, Rein."
In the lounge, Waver's mouth was on the verge of breaking into a grin.
"Root Coins, it seems like this will only drag people deeper. Is this your plan?"
"Exactly... or maybe, Professor, you see right through it. The majority of Root Coins will undoubtedly be under my control. Want magical power to study roots? I can offer magical loans to the noble families."
Reinhard smiled.
"What's the use of suppressing these magus with violence? Magus' minds are not quite right. Since they all want to pursue the root so badly, we only need to provide a platform... when digging for gold, the most profitable business is selling water."
Reinhard was well aware.
Using violence alone to subdue people was meaningless.
But merely allowing the Clock Tower's system to transition from a closed feudal lord system to a covert centralized authority was not enough.
Although the disciplines within the Clock Tower were closed and kept secret, there was a tricky output to this... each discipline would inevitably produce a few geniuses.
Magus without work wouldn't just sit idly by, and you could never predict what kind of astounding feats these Clock Tower elites might pull off.
To bind people's hearts together.
Only with the words self-interest...
"The Clock Tower has too many sentiments, millennia of accumulation, and the grassroots forces are the largest in the Mage's Association. I don't care if these old things on the surface live or die, but the roots under this tree are something I must control."
Reinhard enjoyed the pleasant sensation of the witch kneading his shoulders, instilling his own thoughts into the hearts of his trusted confidants.
"If they convert all their assets into Root Coins, then their lifelines will be in my hands, and by then, it will be too late for them to wake up."
Magus with noble moral values don't pursue roots, making them less likely to fall into this Ponzi scheme.
The more they desire to pursue roots, the more fanatical they become about Root Coins.
What Reinhard wanted to cultivate were responsible, modern magus.
Let the old-era magus suffer and curse me.
No... why should they curse me? Those who curse me are all damn spies sent by other associations. Just catch them and put them to work generating electricity!
Thinking about the magus of the old era, they were facing a bleak future.
Waver couldn't help but sigh, the good days were yet to come.
...
Standing in the basement of the Department of Modern Magecraft Theory's teaching building, a complex summoning circle had been carved into the floor in front of them.
Reinhard contemplated the intelligence in his hand.
"The supervisor from the Fuyuki Church has sent a message... Six Servants have already been summoned for the Holy Grail War in Fuyuki. Professor, what are your thoughts?"
"Six Servants? And there's still over two months left." Waverclicked his tongue and shook his head. "Summoning on such a large scale ahead of time? It's suspicious..."
"I know, but we can't do anything about it. I have to secure the last spot first... otherwise, if they finish early, Morgan and I will have trouble transporting the Greater Grail."
"So, dear, how do you want to summon? With relics?"
Having mastered the summoning ritual degraded to this extent, Morgan was no stranger to the Holy Grail War.
"Relics... There were many relics left by the Knights of the Round Table, which I dumped in the basement of Camelot."
"The Knights of the Round Table? Wouldn't summoning them require a fight first, and then I'd have to cut off a hand or something?"
Reinhard shook his head, it would be too comical if that actually happened.
"Or I could do it myself... After all, I'm curious too... exactly which Heroic Spirit will respond to my call."
Reinhard had too many old acquaintances.
Heroic Spirits who would actively respond to his summon...
His old man Vortigern, the great hero Alcides, Caenis, Atalanta, and Medea?
The others from the Argonaut should be fine too, but maybe not as high on the priority list.
Did that cover all the classes?
So, Reinhard wasn't worried about summoning strangers, most likely, it would be an acquaintance.
Divine spirits usually wouldn't come down. If Hecate descended, the two witches would surely have a tumultuous time in bed.
However, Reinhard certainly understood that the most likely to respond to the summon was...
"...Arotria, perhaps?"
The witch chuckled playfully and delightfully.
"Heh, it's been a while since I've seen her. I really look forward to her coming out... I want to enjoy you in front of her."
Reinhard clicked his tongue and shook his head.
Since Gray began to pledge allegiance to the race, the witch who stood at the finish line, clutching and licking the trophy, had become increasingly serious.
Of course... it was just a husband and wife's playfulness. If Morgan didn't mind, he didn't either.
But, the thought of possibly seeing Artoria again...
Indeed, a slight melancholy rose in Reinhard's heart.
Closing his eyes, he used himself as a medium and stood on the summoning circle.
"Your body shall serve under me...
"My fate shall be your sword..."
The prayer echoed slowly from Reinhard's lips.
As the final chant was completed,
A dazzling light burst suddenly from the circle.
However...
After a moment, no Servant appeared on the summoning circle.
Reinhard opened his eyes with some suspicion.
Silver light, green light, purple light, pink light, white light...
Before the three people's eyes, the summoning circle emitted bursts of intense light, constantly and rapidly changing into various brilliant colors.
They looked at each other in confusion.
"What's going on, Professor?"
"Sigh, I don't know." Waver took a drag of his cigarette, somewhat perplexed. "When I summoned the King, he came out pretty quickly, didn't he?"
"...The Heroic Spirits are fighting for positions." Morgan immediately noticed the clues. "They're fiercely fighting each other for the position of your Servant."
"Cough." Waver chuckled. "As expected from you, Rein."
"..."
Finally, the light of the summoning circle before them suddenly turned into an incredibly dazzling and intense gold.
Then, it exploded violently...
Boom!
The teaching building of the Department of Modern Magecraft Theory seemed to tremble violently.
It's... gold?
So, did Artoria achieve the final victory?
In the dissipating dust, Reinhard waved his hand and noticed a golden figure approaching.
Indeed, it was a blonde...
Immediately...
The people present stared blankly as the black-cloaked, sunglasses-wearing blonde girl, with her somewhat messy hair, slowly emerged from the thick smoke.
"Oh my, you're really popular, Master.
"You've got me to the point of losing my brain cells."
The soft voice came from the mouth of the blonde girl.
She lifted her sunglasses, and looked at the black-haired youth in front of her, and a sunny, radiant smile appeared on her face.
"Hey there, you're looking well.
"Because my saint graph couldn't contain it anymore, I ended up in this weak woman's form, but I'm still the genuine Aztec chief god!"
