Officially, the world recognized only five mages who had reached the esteemed 8th tier, and among them stood Selime Micarlo, the master of the Blue Tower.For several months he had been away—deep in the northern lands, home of the barbarians—tending to business that only an archmage could handle.
Upon returning to the Blue Tower, he sensed immediately that something was wrong.
The first sign was simple yet unmistakable—Shimon's presence was gone.Selime always felt the boy's mana the moment he returned to the tower, but now the familiar sensation was missing entirely.
The second sign was his disciple.
Penia.Eighth-tier mage. A prodigy so brilliant it almost seemed unfair.
Penia's talent had forged a personality as lofty as the sky itself. Even the enormous respect she once offered her master had slowly worn down over the years. When she reached the 6th tier at a young age and was appointed deputy master, the arrogance she had suppressed blossomed fully.
Recently, she had grown so brazen that even Selime found her behavior excessive.
Of course, he knew the truth.Her insolence wasn't born solely of pride—it was also the crushing workload she endured in his absence. Whenever Selime left on long trips, Penia was the one left with mountain after mountain of paperwork.
But even considering that, her arrogance had grown far too much.
Still, Selime had never attempted to correct her.
Arrogance was dangerous for a mage—yes. But Penia's pride never interfered with her research. And Selime believed that once she reached the 7th tier, she would naturally begin to understand her own insignificance.
No matter how gifted, no matter how proud—every mage became humble at the 7th tier.
So Selime had let her be.
…Until now.
"You're telling me Count Palatio came and sealed Shimon?" Selime asked quietly.
"Yes," Penia answered, her voice small.
Her usual fiery gaze—one that rarely softened, even before her own master—was now filled with unease. Her tone wavered as if she were afraid of something.
"The count used the Oath of Magic to seal Shimon. So… I can't say how."
"…I see."
Penia's spirit dampened even further.
Selime silently observed her unfamiliar expression, then sighed.
Count Palatio.He knew almost nothing about the man.
The Blue Tower was far from the Kingdom of Asteria, and what little Selime knew came from old rumors: that the current count had slaughtered his brothers to seize the title.
That was it.
Yet now, Selime found himself curious for the first time.
Penia was not someone who bent easily. Her talent justified her arrogance. For someone to humble her…There was only one explanation.
Magic Penia couldn't fully grasp.Or rather—
An Origin-level spell.
Selime's lips curved faintly.
For the first time, he felt genuine interest in this obscure count from a small kingdom.
The following day, Alon sat in his office reading a letter from Yutia—something that had become a routine once every month or two.
"Nothing special this time," he murmured.
As always, Yutia wrote about her quiet life in the monastery and the latest updates on the Five Deadly Sins.Alon preferred ordinary stories.Ordinary meant peaceful.Ordinary meant they were doing well.
It didn't bother him that the others never wrote. He had never met the children of the orphanage in person, after all. They probably saw him simply as the anonymous benefactor who helped them long ago.
His goal had never been to earn their affection.He only wished to guide them so they wouldn't destroy the kingdoms.
That purpose had been achieved. He had no regrets.
Still…
"Hmm…"
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
Yutia always wrote. Every single month.She was the only one who remembered him.
It felt like raising five children, only for four to forget him completely—while the eldest daughter continued to send letters of gratitude.
'Yutia really understands.'
As he indulged in this oddly fatherly warmth, a knock sounded.
Knock knock—
Evan entered.
"What is it?" Alon asked.
"Oh—yesterday at the training grounds, I forgot to tell you. Remember what you asked me to check?"
"The Five Deadly Sins?"
"Yes. I looked into them. Starting with Seolrang."
Evan stepped inside fully.
"Rumor has it she's already fighting at a level near 'Baba Yaga' rank. She's achieved 32 consecutive victories."
"…Thirty-two?" Alon blinked.
"Yes. And only one match lasted more than ten exchanges. The Baba Yagas are getting uneasy."
"That's understandable."
Only four Baba Yagas existed at a time—an unchanging number. A warrior needed a hundred victories to challenge for the title, forcing one of the current four to accept the duel.
'If I remember correctly… the Lion King had the record for most consecutive wins.'
"Yes, 41 wins," Evan confirmed.
"She's only nine wins away from surpassing him…"
"Yes."
The Colonie was filled with monstrous warriors; even neighboring kingdoms avoided provoking them.For Seolrang to rise so quickly—
Her talent was absurd.
"And there's a rumor about Deus as well," Evan added.
"What about him?"
"They say Deus and his order—the Eclipse—defeated Kurga of the Snow Plains. One of the eight barbarian chiefs."
"…One of the eight chiefs?"
"Yes. The ones who undergo superhuman rituals."
Alon's expression stiffened.He knew them well—more than well, thanks to the game.
To acquire rare relics, one had to defeat the god worshipped by the barbarians.
Ultultus…
Just thinking about that name made his stomach churn.If Ultultus awakened in the north, even without the Five Deadly Sins, the kingdoms would fall.
Fortunately—
'It won't appear unless the gods descend.'
So long as no deity shattered the laws of the world, Ultultus would never awaken.
"…Deus is doing quite well," Alon murmured.
"Well enough that people are comparing him to Reinhardt the Swordmaster."
Alon felt a sliver of regret.
'…Perhaps I should've visited him three times a year.'
As Evan continued, he moved on to Rine—now an appraiser in the labyrinth city.
"She works with black marks," Evan said. "Enhancing relic abilities."
"That ability wasn't in the game…" Alon muttered, fascinated.
Finally—
"What about Ladan?"
Truthfully, Ladan was the one Alon was most curious about. Yutia had stopped mentioning him months ago.
"We don't have concrete information yet," Evan said. "The guild needs a week to confirm."
"…Alright."
Alon accepted the delay.
Two weeks later, Alon was in his office researching relics. He had been staring at the invitation for the Asterian triannual social gathering when—
"Count!"
The door burst open. Evan rushed in, breathless.
"Ladan… He's become a pirate!"
"…What?"
Alon froze.
"Have you heard of the Seven Islands?" Evan asked.
"…The place where the seven great pirates dwell near Raxas?"
"Yes. Apparently, Ladan became the captain of the largest island. He rules it entirely."
"…You're serious?"
"Very."
Alon's mind flashed back to a post he'd once seen online:'A child I sponsored through UNICEF for eight years grew up to become a Somali pirate.'
Now, hearing that Ladan had turned into a great pirate—
Alon felt, for the first time, that he truly understood the emotions of that poor writer.