Magician in Type-Moon

Page 561

The time difference in his gaze seems to reveal his different attitudes and considerations towards each person; even the smallest details seem crucial in his eyes.

"Although we are using modern photocopy paper, this is the style of the Secret Corpse Dissection Bureau. We hope you will understand."

Magdana's voice carried a hint of ease, as if everything was under his control.

"As the data shows, the number of cursed bodies that can be mined from Albion has been decreasing recently."

He paused, his gaze slowly sweeping over each monarch, his tone gradually becoming serious:

“If no action is taken, maintaining the stability of the clock tower will become increasingly difficult.”

As he finished speaking, the atmosphere unconsciously became oppressive, and everyone began to carefully consider the weight of his words.

"If this continues, as the mystery fades, the likelihood of us achieving our goals as magicians will also continue to decrease."

He paused for a moment, as if waiting for everyone's reaction.

"This means that if we do not take action, we will lose our reason for being."

Magdana's words struck everyone's hearts like a heavy stone thrown into a calm lake, creating ripples.

The weight of those words was so profound that it was impossible to ignore.

Because everyone present knew that Magdana wouldn't make a baseless accusation.

As one of the key figures in the clock tower, every word he uttered carried immense significance.

If no action is taken, the future of the clock tower will be in jeopardy.

In that silence, all eyes unconsciously turned to Rufreus.

He is the only one capable of standing up to Magdana and is at the heart of the opposition to the redevelopment plan.

His eyes, like dusty glass, glared, reflecting the burly man.

Chapter 604 Maintaining (4k)

"Although you mentioned... maintaining the clock tower..."

The hoarse voice, like thunder piercing the night sky, penetrated the air and struck Magdana's eardrums.

Every word Rufreus spoke carried an undeniable threat and coldness.

"By the way... what exactly does your so-called clock tower maintain?"

Magdana's gaze remained unwavering, his voice steady and patient: "I believe it is the future of magicians."

"...Ha...! How ridiculous..."

Rufreus let out a cold laugh, his voice devoid of any warmth, instead revealing his deep and prolonged disappointment.

It was as if he had been expecting Magdana to give a more substantial answer, but the actual response left him extremely disappointed.

A mocking smile appeared on his face, and the coldness in his tone made everyone present feel an inescapable sense of oppression.

"Listen carefully... what is this so-called clock tower..."

Rufreus gently pressed his bony fingers against the ancient-glowing gem on his chest, a slow and ritualistic movement, as if he were performing some ancient ceremony.

He grinned, revealing a set of yellow teeth, a smile that exuded arrogance and nonchalance.

There was not a trace of compromise in his eyes; he simply calmly proclaimed an unquestionable truth.

“'We’ll wait'…”

He slowly uttered those two words, as if to tell everyone that the so-called "clock tower" was nothing more than the private property of these old elites.

"Since you say you lack magical energy... then cut back on that new generation... if that's still not enough... then cut back on those boring branch families... there's no need to invest any more manpower and magic..."

Rufreus's words struck like a hammer, gradually shattering Magdana's ideals one by one.

“Redeveloping Albion, getting closer to the Mystics? We have enough.”

He shook his head, his tone filled with a deep sense of helplessness.

"Ah, without realizing it... even the clock tower has been dragged into this... this ridiculous theory of mass consumption... absolutely unacceptable..."

He paused, his gaze shifting to Magdana, his tone growing even colder:

"You people actually proposed to bring such a foolish thing into our clock tower..."

Weber involuntarily shivered. He felt a deep sense of oppression from Rufreus's words, a coldness and arrogance that seemed to emanate from the very marrow of his bones, making him afraid to look directly at him.

This is the true essence of aristocracy: treating other people's lives as pieces on a chessboard, manipulating them at will, and completely disregarding any so-called "emotions" or "values".

However, this is not a wrong view; in fact, it can be described as a harsh reality.

Even democracy still adheres to the principles of elitism.

Magicians, as a nearly extinct race, are inherently rare and exceptional.

Modern magicians are almost mutants, existing on the fringes of history.

Democracy is merely a compromise made to "supplement the labor force," and it does not fundamentally change the essence of elitism.

Rufreus's voice continued to echo in the silent hall. Without pausing, he continued in that calm and unquestionable tone:

"Listen carefully... Now that you've brought up the future of magicians..."

Just as Rufreus was about to continue his discussion, his gaze suddenly shifted slightly, and his tone carried a hint of unease.

"……Well."

At that moment, no surprise or wavering appeared in his eyes, and even the Second Prince, who was watching from the sidelines, could not read his true inner reaction.

Rufreus, the usually calm and decisive old man, reacted in a way that was hard to fathom today.

Nevertheless, even His Excellency Trampelio or His Excellency Euryphus probably could not have foreseen this change.

"What... is going on...?"

Magdana's voice was low and hoarse, tinged with a hint of doubt, as he directly asked the question at the entrance of the room. Clearly, he too had sensed the sudden change in atmosphere.

Then, something unexpected happened.

"excuse me."

A cold, clear voice came from outside the door.

A new figure silently appeared in the doorway. She pressed down on the sleeve of her ornate furisode kimono, her movements elegant yet undeniably authoritative, and adjusted her glasses. The familiar figure was instantly recognized by the young man—it was Adashino Hishiri.

Her appearance was unremarkable, but her cold eyes seemed to silently survey the entire clock tower, like a snake lurking in the darkness, giving people a sense of inescapable threat.

"You are Adashino Hisauri, right?"

Surprisingly, the words weren't spoken by Magdana, but by Inola. Her tone remained relaxed, but her eyes held a hint of suspicion and scrutiny.

"It's been a long time since I last greeted you, Lord Inolei."

Lingli nodded gently, her voice cold and distant.

"Although I didn't expect the Department of Law and Politics to be here, you wouldn't happen to be Barthel Melo's monarchical representative, would you?"

Inole smiled slightly, but then her gaze shifted to behind Ryori, and a familiar sense of vigilance made her expression change slightly.

"I'll be in charge of leading the way this time."

Lingli answered calmly, without any fluctuation, as if she had always been a part of the occasion.

"lead the way?"

Inole frowned, clearly puzzled by this unexpected turn of events.

Her gaze passed over Ryori and looked to the other side of the room, where she finally spotted another figure hidden behind her.

"I see, so it's become like this?"

Her tone became thoughtful and slightly bitter, and she gently shook her head.

She looked at the figure behind Lingli, her gaze gradually focusing.

The woman stood there, utterly out of place with the atmosphere of the assembled monarchs of the clock tower. Her presence seemed to disrupt the balance of this solemn occasion.

Nevertheless, judging from the name "Grand Decision," it seems that everything was already predetermined.

"The teacher is here too? -- It seems like it's only just begun."

The Asian woman, led by Hanako Ryori, nodded slightly.

"Oh dear, I thought the meeting had just started. Could I have made a mistake?"

The woman's voice drifted over softly, carrying a hint of flippancy and sarcasm.

Immediately, a sound of gritting teeth came from her mouth, like rusty iron scraping against a hard object, sending chills down one's spine.

“...Aozaki...Touko.”

Rufreus cursed under his breath, his voice filled with hatred and disdain. His gaze was like a sharp blade piercing the woman standing at the entrance of the room, as if he wanted to erase her from thin air.

Orange, the one who had once harbored resentment towards him, appeared before him again today. She always seemed to appear before him at the most inopportune times, and this time was no exception.

"...This is not a place for a vulgar person like you to enter..."

Rufreus spoke coldly, each word seemingly barbed, aimed directly at the existence of the orange.

"Haha, that's a really harsh thing to say, old man 'Eulife' from the Spirit Conjuring Department."

Orange slowly took off her glasses and gently closed one eye. Her smile was no longer just a casual joke; it carried a subtle change.

"However, this is the only time I am qualified to participate formally. Although the old man doesn't like it, it's a result of tradition. Please forgive me."

Her tone was somewhat provocative, yet undeniably resolute.

"...You're talking about qualifications...Are you kidding me..."

Rufreus's tone suddenly stopped, and the anger in his eyes was instantly replaced by another indescribable emotion.

He seemed somewhat at a loss, and when faced with Orange, he didn't know how to continue venting his anger.

Orange gently picked up an old piece of parchment, as if she were holding something of special significance, and casually waved it in the air.

Her movements were graceful and elegant, and the name written on the paper undoubtedly attracted the attention of everyone present.

“No need to pretend anymore, you already know.” Her smile became more composed, carrying an undeniable firmness. “In short, I am the monarch’s agent.”

“I guarantee in the name of the Department of Law and Politics that this letter of authorization is genuine.”