Speculation About Angell's Origins

Magic Association, Archives Room.

"Mana Base Station? Mana Skill Station? Mana Machine War... Damn it, which one is it?! I should have asked for clarification back then!"

Branch President Hume waved his magic wand in frustration, sending countless files fluttering through the archives like headless flies.

These files were backup records of research projects conducted by mages.

Every magic project in the Eastern Territory that had applied for research funding or materials from the Mage Tower and the Magic Association was kept here.

Except for those with an S-rank security clearance or higher.

However, it was impossible for the research projects of ordinary intermediate mages to exceed S-rank, and even if they did, such intermediate mages would not be easily released from the Mage Tower.

In other words, unless Angell Cecilia's "Mana Base Station" project had never applied for resources and was entirely self-funded, there should be a backup of his project files here.

Theoretically, that was the case.

But finding them was truly difficult.

Mages were usually very whimsical when applying for projects, and their trains of thought were as unconstrained as the heavens.

There were those who found formal wear too troublesome and, wanting to walk around in comfortable pajamas all day, began researching the Feasibility Report on Group Consciousness Hypnosis Magic;

There were also those whose titles read On How I Became the Patriarch of the Blood Clan by Controlling Their Diet, while the contents were actually a guide to planting tomatoes and a thousand ways to cook them.

The Black Robes, in particular, were experts at muddying the waters with their titles.

Under a perfectly normal title like Analysis of Magic Constants in Colorful Ghost Umbrella Mushrooms, one would actually find data on cruel toxin experiments conducted on ninety-eight different races, complete with bloody records of their reactions and dissection data; while a project that sounded as gruesome as Guide to Demon Anatomy was actually just a poor mage (male) who had been swindled out of his money and affection by a demon, even ending up pregnant with the other party's child, and was merely recording his own cesarean section in an attempt to scam some funding for living expenses.

Regarding Angell's Mana Base Station project, Branch President Hume highly suspected it was just a large-scale chicken farm.

There were precedents for this!

Agent John, however, felt there was no need to pay any attention to Angell's research project.

"Why go through all that trouble? We only want a pilot program anyway, so why not just use the test models of the game tables!" John said, his ridiculously large eyes rolling around, looking like he didn't have any good ideas.

In truth, he had wanted to threaten the other party like this back at the Alchemy Workshop: "That Black Cat mentioned providing game table rental services, which means this toy must be spread out in large enough numbers to make money. When the time comes, let Owenka and the others—"

"Amos! Shut up!" Hume barked.

He regretted it to death; he shouldn't have brought this gnome to the Magic Gear today.

To be racially discriminatory, all gnomes were just a bunch of seemingly shrewd, big idiots!

Owen also looked at John with cold eyes: "Although magic education is important, for Cecilia City, the commercialization of magic is even more important! Magic Gear had an incident not long ago; you'd best stop eyeing it!"

"Hmph, the Alchemy Workshop has long since fallen out of fashion!" John muttered discontentedly.

Owen didn't want to pay much attention to this shallow gnome.

However, the other party had reminded him of something.

"...It is indeed necessary to prevent such troublemakers," Owen said, calling out to his butler, "Bart, remind me later to issue a 'Cecilia Key Support Enterprise' certificate to Magic Gear, and warn those fellows below to keep their claws to themselves!"

"Yes, Master." The old butler, who had been following behind Owen the entire time without any sense of presence, replied accordingly.

The other two in the archives room were not surprised by Owen's instructions.

Not even John the gnome.

After all, Magic Gear was an old workshop that had existed since the founding of Cecilia and was once one of the city's hallmarks. It didn't matter that it hadn't been living up to its name before, but now that it was finally showing signs of improvement, any normal official would be happy to see it succeed, let alone someone like Owen who spent his days trying to revive the magic economy.

If they could find Angell's past records and have a clear understanding of his research project, the implementation of these policies would be much more secure.

That was why they had come back to look for the files.

Branch President Hume flipped through them for a long time without result, and he angrily shooed the files back into the filing cabinet.

"Damn it, I can't find anything!"

"Could it be because that Black Robe wasn't in Cecilia before?" Mayor Owen said. "He is an intermediate mage, after all, yet I've never heard of him before."

"Could he be an illegitimate child or something?" Agent John became spirited the moment gossip was mentioned.

"That also makes sense." Hume muttered.

What he agreed with was certainly not the trivial gossip that "Angell is an illegitimate child," but rather the realization that he truly had never seen Angell before, yet a Black Robe like that should have left an impression.

So, it must be that the other party had always been in other cities, outside his jurisdiction.

But Angell Cecilia...

...he always felt like he had heard that name somewhere before.

"This servant also feels that the Workshop Master looks a bit familiar." Owen's old butler agreed.

This surprised Owen: "But with your memory, you wouldn't forget anyone you've seen in the last fifty years, would you?"

"That is why this servant has been trying to recall if I have seen someone similar to Mr. Angell somewhere before," the butler said.

"Hmph, do you even need to recall? It must be one of the previous owners of the workshop!" John said.

"No, Mr. Angell bears no resemblance to the previous owners," Butler Bart glanced at John calmly, "Besides, humans are different from gnomes; even if their appearances are similar, there are great differences based on their temperament."

"That's true, we gnomes are a united race!"

The little old man actually puffed out his chest proudly, forgetting his own human lineage.

Facing an opponent he could not defeat, Old Bart could only offer a bitter smile.

Instead, it was Branch President Hume who recalled something due to the conversation between the mayor and his servant: "Fifty years... yes, it wasn't that recently that I heard this name. It was earlier, much, much earlier..."

"That's impossible, right? I smell the scent of normal human blood on him," Owen said strangely. "How could he possibly maintain eternal youth? He's not one of those old monsters from the Star Glory Tower—"

"Yes, that's it! The Star Glory Tower!"

Hume pointed at Owen and shouted.

He then turned and rushed to an archive shelf storing various crystal records, precisely pulling out a black crystal from the cabinet labeled "Year 123."

"It's this one, Senior Angell Cecilia!"

"Senior?" John couldn't help but grin upon hearing this. "You're old enough to be his great-grandfather; have you no shame..."

The gnome's snarky remark was cut short by the image projected from the crystal.

It was a boy of fourteen or fifteen, pale-skinned and thin, wearing a dark, loose robe similar to a Black Robe. He had long bangs covering most of his face, giving him a very gloomy appearance.

Perhaps the person who left this recording felt that this wouldn't serve as proper identification; they vaguely said something to the boy. The boy showed an impatient expression, but still raised his hand to grab his bangs, reluctantly brushing them back to reveal a pair of eyes with dark, bruised circles as if he hadn't slept in a week. He kept his gaze slanted in another direction, stubbornly refusing to look forward.

Avoiding the lens like this, the boy introduced himself as all Magic Apprentices about to enter a Mage Tower do:

"Angell Cecilia, fourteen years old, intermediate Mana potential, specializing in the Mental system... Psychological Healing White Robe, finished."

With that pathetic look, he wants to be a White Robe?

Are you sure you're here for psychological healing and not to cause mental pollution?!

All four people present complained in their hearts simultaneously.

"It really is the same person!" Owen exclaimed with emotion. "Although he looks much younger, the temperament is identical... but how did he manage to stay exactly the same?!"

"It is a bit strange. Most teenagers haven't settled into their personalities yet; it's easy for them to change," John said. "Besides, he became a White Robe just as he hoped. He was likely picked up by a Black Mage, which would have subjected him to even more trauma..."

"No, the one who chose Senior Angell was indeed a White Robe."

Branch President Hume looked at the past recording, feeling quite moved: "And it was a White Robe from the Star Glory Tower, at that."

"The Star Glory Tower..." Owen repeated with a sigh.

In this world, although there are many classifications for mages, the grading is relatively rough, generally consisting of only four levels:

Magic Apprentice (equivalent to high school for those raised in Mage Towers; vocational school for those in the City of Academies);

Beginner Mage (university graduate);

Intermediate Mage (master's to doctoral level);

High-level Mage (professor and above).

The highest level for a mage is actually just High-level Mage, also commonly known as a Grand Mage.

What the common folk call an "Archmage" only relates to the degree of damage caused by magic, not to research ability or depth of knowledge.

Compared to the general grading of mages, the rating of Mage Towers has very strict standards.

They are divided into Bronze Tower, Silver Tower, Gold Tower, Platinum Tower, Diamond Tower, Star Glory Tower, and the Tower of the Magic Emperor, which only a Magic Emperor possesses.

(Angell: This grading system seems like it was copied from somewhere.)

However, the Tower of the Magic Emperor is almost legendary, because it can only be built by a Magic Emperor who possesses an extremely high level of magical attainment while also holding immense prestige and command over the populace. Even the Grand Mage Cecilia, who carved out the Abyss, did not achieve this; it seems only the ancient Magic Dynasty left behind a few ruins.

And currently, the highest standard for a Mage Tower that mages can build is the Star Glory Tower.

As the Magic Capital, Cecilia City boasts five Star Glory Towers.

One of them is the Mage Tower of the Grand Mage Cecilia, who built this city.

"Did the Star Glory Tower of Cecilia choose that kid?" John asked. "Are they family?"

"Not at all." Hume shook his head. "The relationship between the Magic Gear and the Grand Mage Cecilia is very subtle. Although there are unofficial legends that the Grand Mage Cecilia was the eldest son of the owner of the Alchemy Workshop and that he built the Magic Gear for his own family, the history of the Magic Gear seems to predate even Cecilia City. It existed back when this place was still just a small village plagued by the Demon Race."

"Moreover, the Grand Mage Cecilia's attitude toward the Magic Gear is also very subtle. He almost never has any contact with the owner of the Magic Gear, nor does he grant them anything. He even forcibly placed a curse on it, making it impossible for the owner of the Magic Gear to become a noble or marry into any noble family; they can only ever remain commoners."

"Good grief, that's a grudge!" John exclaimed.

Hume did not comment on the family relations of the ancient Grand Mage; he only said: "The one that chose Senior Angell was that Masterless Tower!"

The remaining three showed expressions of genuine shock.

"That legendary..."

"That legendary one." Hume nodded.

Among the five Star Glory Towers in Cecilia City, the most legendary is not the Grand Mage Cecilia's, but that Masterless Tower.

No one knows who built that tower, and no one knows how long its history is.

In short, since records began, that tower has been there.

The time it opens its gates is uncertain, but every time it opens, it is when an apprentice with legendary potential is about to enter a Mage Tower. It can be said to be a Mage Tower that accepts only super geniuses.

"That year, that Mage Tower chose an apprentice with only intermediate potential, causing a huge stir among us apprentices who were about to enter the towers," Hume recalled, feeling a bit sentimental. "We once thought the Masterless Tower had changed its standards for selecting mages, so we were secretly excited for several years, until our hopes were dashed."

"Now that you mention it, I remember too." The butler nodded, also recalling. "This matter caused quite a commotion at the time, so my master sent me to investigate the identity of the apprentice who entered the Star Glory Tower. That was when I looked into the Magic Gear and met the owner at the time—presumably Mr. Angell's father? He was more like Mr. Angell than the previous owners of the Magic Gear—or rather, Mr. Angell is like him? That's why I felt he looked familiar."

Agent John felt a subtle sense of annoyance.

He said with a tone of picking holes, "But even if someone was trained at the Masterless Tower, it doesn't necessarily mean they'll amount to anything, right?"

"That is true," Hume nodded in agreement. "Actually, the failure rate at the Masterless Tower is quite high! Generally, if you can't promote to an Intermediate Mage within three years or become a Grand Mage within five, you are forcibly expelled."

"But this Angell only has the potential of an Intermediate Mage, and he stayed at the Masterless Tower for over a hundred years before returning?" Mayor Owen asked.

"..."

A sudden silence fell over the archives room.

Everyone was immersed in an atmosphere of "I don't quite understand what's going on, but it feels incredibly impressive."

Some even suddenly felt that Angell was more formidable than those "successful" Grand Mages—how did that happen?!

"I say, could Mr. Angell be returning with some sort of mission this time!" Mayor Owen said, his tone when mentioning Angell suddenly becoming respectful.

"A mission?"

Owen said solemnly, "The whole world is undergoing a transformation now, and magic is declining. Those reclusive Grand Mages shouldn't just sit by and watch. So, is Mr. Angell an envoy sent by the Masterless Tower? Perhaps he came with the mission of reviving magic, which is why he developed that magic tool to improve meditation and wants to carry out his research project at the school."

"Ha, you're overthinking it!" John said incredulously.

"I also think it's very possible," Branch President Hume chimed in, looking thoughtful. "Whether it's the leasing and sales plan for the Game Tables or the proposal for the Mana Base Station, it's clearly been carefully considered, one step linked to the next. It's hard to imagine a gloomy Black Robe having such capability, especially since he spent so many years in a Mage Tower—it would be a miracle if he hadn't been abandoned by the times, let alone proposing such a mature business plan! Look at his Membership System; it's more cunning than many real merchants! Therefore, there must be a much larger force behind him plotting for him!"

"Didn't you say last time that the Roy family..."

"No, no, I was thinking too shallowly that time. I only saw the first layer; the truth must be much more complex," Hume said.

He looked at Mayor Owen. "Just as Owen analyzed, the Roy family lacks the motive and the technology. Besides, why entrust a dilapidated Alchemy Workshop? So I think the organization behind Masterless... behind Senior Angell must have taken a fancy to the Roy family's vast wealth and is now preparing to drag them onto their chariot!"

"Right! That makes sense!" Owen slapped his thigh. "That's why Mr. Angell is approaching the young lady of the Roy family instead of the head of the house, because the Roy family doesn't even realize they are part of the plan!"

"But if that guy is an envoy from the Masterless Tower, does he need to go through all that trouble?" John asked. "As long as he produces letters of introduction from those old monsters, even His Majesty the Emperor would treat him as an honored guest!"

"That is exactly where Senior Angell is being cautious!" Hume stroked his beard.

He felt he had sorted it all out. "How much influence does the Anti-Magic Faction have now? Not to mention local officials, even within our Magic Association, there are many fools who think magic is completely obsolete and should be abandoned entirely. If Senior Angell had directly stated it was an order from the Masterless Tower, I fear these people would have paid lip service while acting against it, wasting a huge amount of money and energy, and turning a good thing into a disaster. By starting from the bottom, he is identifying those pests."

"So his requirement for us to sign a Magic Contract with him is also a statement of intent!" Owen added. "Which Black Robe's contract isn't just about achieving their own interests regardless of whether others live or die? But Mr. Angell demanded we draft a contract that perfectly protects the children's bodies and souls. This is entirely a statement from the force he represents, and also a test for us!"

"But he probably didn't expect us to be able to investigate his true identity!" Hume said triumphantly.

Thus, the middle-aged and elderly men in the archives room let out sinister, shadowy laughs.

"So, are we going to sign that contract with him?" John asked, puzzled, after finishing his laughter.

"Sign it! Of course we're signing it!" Owen said. "Since we've already seen that this is a golden thigh, would we even be worthy of ourselves if we didn't hurry up and hug it tight?!"

Another round of sinister laughter erupted in the archives room.

*

"Ouch—"

At this moment, Angell, who had inexplicably acquired a series of titles such as "The Exception of the Masterless Tower," "The Closed-Door Disciple of Reclusive Bigwigs," and "The Apostle Sent by the Highest-Level Mage Tower," was clutching half his face and wailing.

Mithril had just left five "love claw marks" on his face.

"What do you mean by 'you provide the money'!" Mithril scolded. "Do you have that much money to build some kind of Chicken Farm, meow?!"

It felt that by not extending its claws in front of the guests, it had already given this bastard master enough face!

"It's not a Chicken Farm, it's a Base Station!" Angell corrected.

"I don't care what you're building, you can't just spend money recklessly!" Mithril said.

It had noticed!

It had noticed that Angell had a very bad tendency!

As soon as this person had any money on the books, he would immediately spend it all.

At first, it was the money earned from the Game Tables; he immediately took it to restock and bought more tables.

These were necessary material expenses, which Mithril could understand.

Then, when the number of Game Tables increased, Angell immediately took all the money and ran to the Adventurer's Guild and the Magic Association to recruit people!

These were necessary personnel expenses, which Mithril could also understand.

Next, he discovered that the money hadn't been spent yet, so he started renovating the workshop, refurbishing the dorms, and giving the employees high salaries (this was still just a promise, meow, who knows where that actual money is!), and then planned to make more Game Tables and create more games!

These were necessary for future development, which Mithril could barely understand.

Finally, he actually promised to build some kind of Mana Chicken Farm for the school!

Using the workshop's money!

As long as those adults signed a contract! It was all going to be the workshop's money!

Mithril felt it couldn't take it anymore.

It had just experienced the stage where the workshop was on the verge of bankruptcy and absolutely could not tolerate the deficit that was about to follow!

Mithril extended its claws to threaten Angell: "If you spend recklessly again, you'll have to step over this cat's dead body!"

"These are all necessary expenses," Angell appealed.

And he had a whole theory to support it:

"Once you have money, you have to expand the shop. Expanding the shop definitely requires renovations and staff, and to get staff, you certainly need generous compensation! Only money that is spent is truly money!"

"Besides, the economy is always inflationary! Based on my observations, no matter what currency value a country sets at its inception, it eventually evolves into a situation where wages are dozens of times the largest denomination, and the largest denomination is used for ordinary purchases. Right now, the commoners' wages in this country are only twenty silver, yet the largest denomination is one gold. Do you realize how much room for inflation that is?! If I don't spend the money quickly, I'm definitely losing out!"

In any case, Angell would never admit that he was a spendthrift.

Mithril felt like slapping him: "It's a miracle you managed to save enough money in the Mage Tower to pay off the workshop's debts!"

"It's mainly because there was nowhere to spend it," Angell answered quite honestly.

Mage Towers are usually closed and self-contained systems.

Mages always have many secrets, especially the High-level Mages who build the towers. There is no telling what world-destroying projects they might be researching, so naturally, they wouldn't let their subordinates and apprentices run around freely, which meant they had to act like parents and take care of their every need.

In the hundred years Angell spent in the Mage Tower, he never had any contact with the outside world.

In a place like that, money naturally couldn't be spent, and sometimes, when project surpluses didn't require much cost, he could even earn a bit extra. Over those hundred years, Angell had unknowingly saved over three hundred thousand, only to spend it all on debt repayment within half a day of leaving the tower.

This constitution of being unable to hold onto money was truly quite tragic.

Angell had no choice but to soothe the frantic Mithril: "Actually, things aren't that bad. Didn't we just receive a large order?"

"You know about those orders! They haven't even been produced yet, Meow! These things require costs! Costs!" Mithril exclaimed.

Angell was getting a headache from its meowing, so he could only helplessly pick up the paper and pen on the table:

"Anyway, let's first calculate what we need to do!"

He actually wanted to hire a new accountant first.