Chapter 155 Tower of Magic Conference (1)

Words : 1826 Updated : Sep 19th, 2025

The Tower of Magic loomed in the distance as we checked into our hotel. It wasn't just tall; it was overwhelming, a colossal needle threading through the heavens, its silhouette marked by a faint shimmer of magic that cloaked its top floors. Even from here, the sheer scale of it made me pause, taking a moment to marvel at the work of thousands who had built and maintained this monument to human ambition. Inside the hotel, however, the atmosphere was far less intimidating—plush carpets muffled footsteps, crystal chandeliers cast a warm, golden glow, and attendants moved with the precision of well-practiced spells. Mythos Academy spared no expense when it came to accommodations, but that wasn't surprising. After all, we were here as representatives, and even first-year representatives were expected to keep up appearances. Professor Gravemore handed us our keycards and gave a simple nod of dismissal. "Rest up. The Conference starts tomorrow, and the tour of the Tower is in the afternoon. Revise your presentations if you feel the need, but I'd recommend relaxing tonight." Cecilia, carrying herself with her usual air of noble nonchalance, simply nodded. Rose offered Gravemore a polite thanks before the two headed for their rooms, leaving me to linger in the lobby. It was a grand space, all marble and glass, with an enormous fountain in the center that defied gravity with its floating streams of water. I found a seat near the corner, my mind buzzing not with nerves but with anticipation. For all the challenges I'd faced so far, standing in front of some of the most brilliant minds in the magical world tomorrow felt… different. Exciting. But solitude never lasts long in places like this. "Hey, Mythos kid," came a voice from behind me. Turning, I found myself face-to-face with a trio of older students. They wore the badges of academies I recognized—Starstrike Academy, Gravelore Academy, and Silverlight Institute. Second and third years, if the way they carried themselves was anything to go by. "Didn't expect to see a first-year here," the one from Starcrest said, a wiry boy with sandy hair and a sneer to match. His name tag read Adrian Wren. "Mythos must really be scraping the bottom of the barrel if they're sending kids." "That, or they're trying to show off," added the girl from Gravehold, her dark curls bouncing as she crossed her arms. Her tag read Danica Vale. "Mythos always does love its dramatics." "Or maybe it's because they don't trust their older students to win," said the last, a tall boy from Silverlight with sharp features. His name was Calen Thorne, and his smirk was infuriatingly smug. I smiled. It wasn't a pleasant smile. "If Mythos Academy is so unimpressive, then I assume none of you would ever dream of transferring there?" Adrian blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Well, that's not—" "Exactly," I interrupted smoothly. "Because if they offered you a spot, you'd be packing your bags faster than you can say 'Warp Gate.'" Danica flushed. "T-that's not the point. You don't even—" "I know exactly what the point is," I said, my voice calm but firm. "You think poking fun at me makes you feel better about not being where I am. I get it. But if you have time to waste trying to rattle me, maybe you should spend it preparing your own presentations." Before any of them could respond, a new voice broke in. "That's enough." The voice belonged to a girl with soft brown hair and striking violet eyes, her badge identifying her as Elara Astoria. She was flanked by another figure—a sharp-eyed girl with platinum-white hair and an air of quiet authority. Her badge read Naomi Draven. Both of them wore the insignia of Slatemark Academy. "Bullying a first-year to feel better about yourselves? Classy," Naomi said, crossing her arms as she stepped between me and Adrian. Adrian glared but said nothing, clearly caught off guard. Danica and Calen shuffled awkwardly, the bravado draining from their faces. "I-it's not bullying," Danica muttered. "We were just… talking." Elara tilted her head, her gaze steady but not unkind. "Funny, it didn't sound like talking. It sounded like envy." Calen bristled. "Envy? Why would we—" "Save it," Naomi cut in, her voice carrying an edge that made even Calen fall silent. "If you've got something to prove, do it in the Conference. This isn't the place." The trio exchanged embarrassed looks before muttering excuses and retreating, Adrian muttering something under his breath that earned him a glare from Naomi as he left. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "Thanks," I said, turning to the two girls. "I appreciate the backup." Naomi gave a casual shrug. "Don't mention it. I can't stand idiots like that." Elara, however, was studying me now, her violet eyes narrowing slightly in thought. "Wait… Arthur Nightingale?" she said, her voice lilting with recognition. "The one from Mythos Academy?" I blinked in surprise. "That's me." Her face brightened with a warm smile. "I've heard about you. A first-year taking on such an ambitious project… it's impressive." "I wouldn't go that far," I said, scratching the back of my neck. "I'm just doing my best." Elara extended her hand. "I'm Elara Astoria. And this is Naomi Draven." Naomi gave me a nod. "Good luck tomorrow. Not that you'll need it, if half of what I've heard is true." "You too," I said, watching as they disappeared into the crowd. I exhaled a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. Elara Astoria. She was here, flesh and blood, as real as the steady hum of magic thrumming through the air around us. In the novel, she'd been my favorite female character, the kind-hearted glue that held everyone together despite her limited screen time. Her untimely death had been one of the greatest tragedies of the story—one that I intended to prevent at all costs. But standing here now, having just met her, the weight of that responsibility pressed on me. "Arthur," a familiar voice called out, dragging me from my thoughts. I turned to see Cecilia approaching, her usual confident swagger on full display. She wasn't wearing the Mythos Academy uniform, opting instead for a cropped top and a flowing skirt that made her seem casual. "Somebody annoy you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she reached me. "No, just… thinking," I replied, still distracted by my earlier encounter. Cecilia's eyes narrowed in mock suspicion before she smirked. "Why are you still in uniform? You know we're not on campus, right?" I glanced down at the familiar Mythos insignia stitched onto my blazer. "Why aren't you wearing yours?" "Because we're free right now, duh," she shot back, rolling her eyes. "Why wouldn't I wear something more comfortable? You look like you're still expecting to be called to Professor Nero's office." I opened my mouth to retort, but—annoyingly—she had a point. "And don't I look pretty?" Cecilia added with a teasing tilt of her head, her smile mischievous. I narrowed my eyes at her, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a response. She took my silence as victory, grinning even wider. "Anyway," she continued, clearly enjoying herself, "the upper-year students want to meet you." "Wait, the upper-year students?" I repeated, frowning. She nodded. "Yeah, the Integration-rankers. You know, the ones who actually matter." "Why?" I asked, genuinely puzzled. "Because you made a Lich, duh," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You've got, like, the magical equivalent of a flashing neon sign over your head that says 'interesting first-year.' Now, come on. Let's not keep them waiting." Before I could protest, Cecilia grabbed my arm and started dragging me through the hotel with the kind of confidence that suggested she'd memorized the layout. I stumbled slightly as we wove through the lavish corridors, past towering crystal chandeliers and ornate carpets that probably cost more than most houses. She didn't slow down once, her grip firm and her pace relentless. "Do you even know where we're going?" I asked, trying—and failing—to wrest my arm free. "Obviously," she said with a scoff. "I'm not dragging you into a broom closet, Arthur. Have a little faith." I wasn't sure if I trusted her faith or her sense of direction, but before I could decide, we stopped in front of a massive, intricately carved door. Cecilia knocked, the sound echoing through the hallway. We waited in silence for a moment before the door creaked open. "I brought him here," Cecilia announced, her voice laced with mock irritation. "Happy now?" The figure who had opened the door stepped aside, allowing us to enter. I barely had time to register the sheer size of the suite before a wave of oppressive mana washed over me. Powerful presences. I froze instinctively, my senses sharpening as my gaze swept across the room. There were five of them, each seated casually on luxurious furniture that looked like it had been designed for royalty. And yet, despite their relaxed postures, the air around them hummed with restrained power. Integration-rankers. All of them. It wasn't just their mana, though. Their eyes carried the weight of experience, the kind that only came from surviving countless battles and pushing through impossible odds. They weren't just students—they were warriors, scholars, and prodigies. I realized I was staring when one of them, a tall boy with sharp features and jet-black hair, raised an eyebrow at me. "So this is the first-year who made a Lich," he said, his tone equal parts amused and skeptical. "That's him," Cecilia said, shoving me forward lightly. "Arthur Nightingale, the pride of Mythos Academy's Class 1-A." The black-haired boy smirked, leaning back in his chair. "He doesn't look like much." "Neither did you," Cecilia shot back, crossing her arms. "And now you're pretending to be impressive." A ripple of laughter moved through the group, cutting through the tension. I exhaled quietly, taking the opportunity to steady myself. Whatever this was, I'd have to handle it carefully. "Well," another student said, a girl with piercing green eyes and an air of casual authority, "let's see if he's worth the hype. Sit down. We don't bite." I nodded, stepping forward as Cecilia took a seat beside me. The room was suffused with a kind of charged energy, the kind that came from being surrounded by people who could crush you without breaking a sweat. This was going to be interesting. 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Chapter 155 Tower of Magic Conference (1)

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