The crisp sound of the glass cracking was unusually clear. Fernan almost instinctively wanted to cast a spell, but Verona just calmly stepped back.

Fernand, who was holding him, involuntarily stepped back - that was enough. Above the crystal ball, the skylight that opened on the top shattered, and the shards of glass fell to the ground with a clatter, and the sound froze the breath, cutting through everyone's hearts like a sharp blade, and fear spread in silence, as if the next moment would be death.

The next moment...... The hazy moonlight shone on the shards on the ground, and the transparent glass shimmered like jewels.

There was a dead silence in the library, and even though the eyes were gradually restored after being stimulated by the bright light, for a while, not many people realized what the cold and dim light above their heads meant.

Fernand looked up and saw the early autumn night sky, the moon hidden behind the clouds outlining a soft outline at the edge of the clouds, between the clouds, a few stars were bright and flickering, as lazy as half-asleep eyes.

From the moment the Archmage Tower was built, it had never been so completely conquered by the night. The glow of magic is always extinguished all night, like the white sails of the quays of Neo, which is the pride of the city.

They have almost forgotten what the real night is like.

The cool night breeze swept in, bringing with it the sound of distant breaking waves, followed by cheers like the tide of the sea—they were back.

Fernand exhaled silently, and Verona's eyes were slightly smiling. They listened in silence until the cheers faded and Verona took a few steps forward, swept away the debris with his feet, and stood on the stone platform.

"Is enough happy?" he began, in a small voice, clearly reaching everyone's ears, "then...... Let's talk about the less happy ones. ”

.

Stormbell sat up and was stunned for a moment.

The night breeze blew past him, and the cheers under his feet sounded unreal...... Like the faintly audible waves in the distance, and the warm and dim lights of Neo City just after night, familiar and unfamiliar, unbelievably beautiful.

He looked around with almost curiosity - after all, he had never admired the scenery around him from this angle...... No one would climb onto the roof of the library to see the view.

A few paces away, two other mages also got up, and they looked at each other in the moonlight, and after a dazed and ecstatic smile. Although the position was awkward—so embarrassing that Stormel thought it was a prank by the Sage, they made a choice with the consciousness of death, and they came back alive, and all they had left in their hearts was gratitude.

Verona's voice came from under the cracked glass dome. This was obviously not a good time to fall from the sky, and the three people who escaped death simply sat where they were, listening quietly.

"Come, Lambs, lift up your hands. ”

The old mage's tone was still tinged with the usual sarcasm, "The simplest spell, the Light Flame Technique. ”

The light in the hall lit up little by little, but it flickered and dimmed, like a candle in the wind, and it would be extinguished in the blink of an eye.

“...... It's not that easy, is it?"

A low echo with an uneasy response.

"Don't be nervous, it won't be long before you're back. But keep this feeling in mind, so that when decades ...... Or a few years later, if it's unlucky, it's not impossible in a few months – when you're faced with the same situation, knowing that it's impossible to change, knowing that all your efforts have been in vain...... Maybe not so sad. ”

Stobel understood and couldn't help but smile bitterly. Even with good intentions, this way of speaking can easily be resistant...... Of course, Verona doesn't care at all.

"The magic will be gone. The old mage's voice fluttered in the sudden wind, "for the gods no longer exist, and sooner or later the rules supported by the power of faith will crumble—and who will remember the name of the god when prayers are no longer answered......

Ed jumped from the dragon's low neck, its massive body falling on the roof in a near-silent manner, and when it folded its wings, it reverted back to its human form.

The two mages who had never seen this scene were shocked, but Stobel smiled and nodded at Ed.

They tacitly kept quiet. Ed tiptoed to the cracked skylight and crouched down to listen to Verona's description of an alternate, perhaps even more terrifying, future to a group of young mages who had just escaped from the shadow of death.

“...... With the loss of power is the respect that you now receive...... or fear. You will have to go back to your old life, living in mediocrity, and perhaps worse for some - you have no ability to survive......"

The corners of Ed's mouth twitched. He didn't speak, but Stobel could tell his disapproval. As a priest with great powers, he never seemed to see magic as something very important.

“...... Can that be changed? Maybe. The old mage's voice paused for a moment before it sounded again, giving not hope, but deeper despair, "But whether it is the 'time' left for you by Santo the Stone Sculptor, or the 'possibility' left by Harold the Silver Staff, they no longer exist at this moment, and the Lord of the Four Towers, whom you look up, has already paid the price for their defeat...... Where are you going?"

In the long silence, Ed moved uneasily.

Even he could feel the shock and helplessness of being kicked into the abyss...... He did fall into the abyss, and even now he has not been able to climb out. The group of mages below who have been comfortable under the protection of the Archmage Tower for too long, how much stronger can they be than him?

Archmage Tower...... Isn't it going to be the end of it?

He thought a little dazed.

“...... Isn't it 'us'?" After a moment, a young mage finally spoke boldly, "Your Excellency...... Where do we go from here?"

Verona, however, did not give an answer.

"I'm dying of old age. He said, "Perhaps tomorrow I'll be out of breath—do you want to count on me?"

“...... You can ...... You are the master of the Tower. The young mage stubbornly continued.

Verona chuckled lowly, and Stormel felt a chill down his spine inexplicably, always feeling a little ominous.

"From now on," the old mage said slowly, "I appoint Nick Storbel as Lord of the Most Tower. He is the only disciple of Santo the Stone Shaper, and the one who brought you back from the brink of death today...... He has enough qualifications. Pay your respects to Him – He is above your heads. ”

Stormbell was dumbfounded.

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