"Sorry, Lunifis, I have to log off." (Silver coins +100)
"Oh? What's wrong?"
"Something suddenly came up. Let's talk later." (Silver coins +100)
"All right, goodbye." (Silver coins +10)
Roland resisted the urge to keep replying, logged off, washed up, and tidied his appearance before heading out to the Floating Stairway.
With more than twenty minutes to spare before the appointed time of ten, he arrived on the ninth floor of the Mage Tower, somewhere he had never been before.
The space had been arranged to resemble a dome of deep space. Orbs of light formed from Magic Runes floated in the air like stars scattered across the heavens.
This was a private library modeled after the Hall of Wisdom. Those exquisite, elegant Magic Runes, with graceful lines worthy of works of art, were the Ovesto Runes, which Archmage Ovesto had named after himself.
They resembled intricate openwork patterns, with a hint of Elvish Script about them. Embedded in the barrier enclosing this space, they shared the vital task of maintaining the entire Mage Tower's flow of energy and information with the Tower Spirit.
At the center of the dome shone a magical light source like a sun high overhead-a gigantic Light spell enhanced with special magic. What looked like a whole firmament of stars surrounded it, keeping the interior illuminated.
Under the clean, bright light, which was not the least bit harsh, two tall maids approached with graceful steps.
Unlike the maids downstairs who provided logistical support for the Mage Tower, those serving here seemed to be Archmage Ovesto's personal attendants. Since outsiders rarely visited, they wore sheer clothing. The expensive, silk-like fabric was perfectly tailored to bring out the beauty of their feminine figures.
It was an unusual style of dress somewhere between Eastern and Western fashion. Even Roland could not help stealing a few extra glances, only to discover that the two maids were nearly identical twin sisters.
They shared the same delicate face, with bright, lively eyes and glossy red lips. Their skin looked sculpted from ice and jade, suffused with a luminous sheen, and their long black hair spilled over their shoulders like satin. They resembled goddesses from Greek mythology.
Particularly noteworthy were their long, pointed ears, which readily brought elves to mind.
"Mr. Roland, our master has already instructed us to arrange your audience as soon as you arrive. There is no need to wait. Please follow us."
Their voices were almost perfectly synchronized, overlapping to produce a stereo effect.
With that, they turned gracefully and led the way, their figures swaying. Every movement brimmed with charm.
Roland took one look and nearly choked, breaking into an embarrassed dry cough.
As it turned out, the twin sisters were both succubi. An extremely artistic design at the back of their clothing cleverly saved a considerable amount of fabric, leaving their lovely backs exposed.
Their waists were properly covered, but below that, the design once again eliminated waste.
This left their pale, rounded curves exposed, along with their heart-tipped succubus tails, drawing the eye beneath the lights.
"The Grand Mage is a true gentleman!"
Remembering Froya's earlier description, Roland nodded inwardly.
"Personally verified. One hundred percent certain!"
They passed through a long corridor with exquisite decor and famous paintings on the walls. An ornate carpet covered the floor, while delicate chandeliers hanging from the ceiling cast an enchanting glow that lent the whole space an air of mystery. Here and there, antique furniture and sculptures stood in carefully chosen spots, as though quietly recounting ancient history.
All of this made the place feel even more like a palace of art.
Yet maids moved about nearby, doing housework with the Cleaning Spell. Each was like a dancer, her steps light and graceful, and like a wife, her manner gentle and attentive.
They added a touch of human warmth to the cold palace of art.
Before long, after feasting his eyes all along the way, Roland finally followed the succubus sisters to Archmage Ovesto's study. It stood at the end of this palace of art, a room that looked unremarkable from the outside.
"Master, Mr. Roland has arrived."
The two succubi opened the door and went inside.
"Please come in."
A middle-aged man's rich, steady voice sounded from within. He spoke pure Elvish, in the accent of Betura Platiphila Suke in the Birchwood Forest of the Elven Court.
Roland gathered himself, stood at the door for a silent count of two, then pushed it open and entered.
The gentleman waiting behind the large desk looked to be in his sixties. His face was handsome and dignified, his eyes deep and bright, and his bearing wise and elegant.
He wore a robe embroidered with intricate magical runes that proclaimed his status in the Arcane Empire. Sitting quietly at ease with a smile on his face, he appeared all the more genial and composed.
This was the master of the tower, a prominent figure renowned throughout Atrelin, the Arcane Empire: His Excellency Grand Mage Ovesto.
Roland approached his desk, placed his right hand over his chest, and bowed.
"Greetings, Your Excellency, Grand Mage."
Since the Grand Mage had spoken in Elvish first, Roland replied in Elvish as well, with an equally authentic Betura accent.
"Roland, this is our first meeting, but I have known about you for quite some time."
Ovesto chuckled and pointed to a small sofa at one side of the study. "No need to stand on ceremony. Sit."
With their tails raised, the two succubus maids moved lightly on tiptoe between the tables and chairs on their long legs. They opened a bottle of red wine at a wine cabinet kept at a constant temperature by a Magic Array, then poured it at the nearby bar.
By the time they brought over the enticingly fragrant wine in stemmed glasses, Ovesto had risen from behind his desk and seated himself not far from Roland.
"It isn't strong, so it won't cloud your thinking. A little won't hurt."
"Thank you, Your Excellency."
Roland quickly raised his glass, exchanging a toast with him from across the space, then brought it to his lips for a small sip.
Sure enough, it was mellow on the tongue, leaving a lingering fragrance in his mouth without any of alcohol's sting.
Immediately afterward, a warm sensation gradually spread through his entire body, turning into abundant mana that surged within him.
As that single sip filled his body with comfort and lifted his spirits, Roland became utterly certain that this was no ordinary wine, but a rich magical vintage!
His nerves finally settled a little, and he looked at Archmage Ovesto.
The archmage waved a hand, signaling for him to relax as he had and lean back against the sofa.
"So, what is your first impression of my place?"
"The artistic value is very high."
Roland answered honestly.
"Oh? How high?"
"As high as a nine-story Mage Tower."
"Ha ha ha ha..."
Archmage Ovesto burst into hearty laughter.
Before you continue