Even while running around endlessly, Karnak continued to gather intelligence on the Lacania empire. He couldn’t sleep soundly unless he was keeping tabs on the two most dangerous enemies, Dreltein and Elezar.

Fortunately, it wasn’t particularly difficult. He received a steady flow of updates from the King’s Order, the church, and the Twilight Order. He even maintained occasional contact with the western branch of the Brigade of Purification.

With such a wide network, the information he received was generally reliable. But recently, there had been a change in the status of Dreltein and Elezar.

"They’ve finally joined hands," Karnak said.

Varos blinked in confusion. "Finally joined hands? What, were they holding feet before?"

They both knew those two were on the same side, so the comment made little sense to Varos.

Karnak frowned. "I mean publicly. Publicly."

Specifically, it meant that the two major factions within the empire, the Kazemil Marquisate of Dreltein, and the Relphrantz Duchy of Elezar, had officially reconciled.

"They were political enemies within the empire, remember?" Karnak said.

"Were they?" Varos scratched the back of his head, clearly struggling. "Too long ago for me. Kinda hazy."

Karnak hadn’t expected Varos to have the best memory anyway. "Just remember they used to hate each other’s guts in this era."

Even if Dreltein and Elezar were allies in secret, they had remained the visible leaders of rival factions, making it hard for them to act openly. That was why Karnak hadn’t been too concerned up until now. He’d assumed they were both too preoccupied with their own affairs to mess with him.

But now that they had formally joined forces, who knew what they might do next? With both Jedex and future Leven taken off the board, it was clear the Cult of the Black God would no longer leave Karnak alone.

"And lately, my progress with chaos magic’s slowed down," Karnak admitted.

Though he’d been breezing past the lower-circle boundaries like a snake slipping over a wall, the wall of the 9th circle was far higher, even for him. That said, it wasn’t truly slow by ordinary standards.

Karnak had already achieved mastery over half of the eight circle. He was slipping over walls so fast that it could make even snakes weep with envy. Still, it remained the truth that the eight circle wasn’t nearly powerful enough to rival an archmage or a martial king.

"I need to strengthen my necromantic magic," he declared.

He had no desire to return to the days of overusing necromancy. After all, necromantic power was ultimately poisonous to the living. That was why he was working so hard to train his body. He was hoping to offset some of the adverse effects if he had no choice but to use necromancy.

Varos nodded solemnly, finally understanding. "No wonder. You’re the type of person who moves only when the fire’s blazing beneath your feet, young master. I was wondering why you suddenly decided to train your body..."

Then Varos tilted his head, wondering. "So what happens now?"

Varos didn’t know much about politics, but he was well-versed in the behavior of groups. When two factions that used to fight suddenly teamed up, their next move was usually to find a common enemy.

"Are the imperial forces going to invade the Seven Kingdoms Alliance?" Varos asked him.

Karnak shook his head. "Doesn’t look like it."

Of course, that might happen later, but for now, the empire’s new shared enemy wasn’t the Seven Kingdoms.

"They’re targeting Diogres Kolon, the Master of the Tower of Dawn," Karnak said.

Varos furrowed his brow. "Master Kolon?"

Naturally, he was well-acquainted with Diogres Kolon. He was one of the archmages of this era and the Master of the Tower of Dawn. Kolon had once been both a formidable enemy and a fellow colleague.

"Wait, isn’t Kolon also going to return from the future anyway?" Varos asked him.

"Yeah. That’s probably why they’re trying to secure his body in advance, to conduct the summoning ritual," Karnak explained.

Varos nodded in undersatnding. "So they’ve made another Anti-Time-Space Transcender over there too, huh."

"Seems like it," responded Karnak.

In order to bring back a specific soul at a specific time, they needed to secure the body ahead of time. Clearly, Elezar and Dreltein had taken some kind of action to do just that.

"They hadn’t been able to act openly before, but it looks like circumstances have changed. They can make their move."

"But isn’t Diogres Kolon one of the empire’s most loyal subjects? Now you’re saying imperial loyalists are persecuting another imperial loyalist? What kind of excuse are they using?"

A grin tugged at Karnak’s lips. It was the kind of grin he wore when something genuinely amused him. "They say they’ve acquired conclusive evidence that the Master of the Tower of Dawn is one of the leaders of the Church of the Black God."

So they called for him to appear at an inquisition tribunal, which he refused. And when he refused, Dreltein and Elezar marched a force toward the tower themselves.

"So basically... the actual leaders of the Black God’s Church are framing an innocent man as one of their leaders?" Varos let out a dry laugh. "Unbelievable. You think that kind of stunt’s actually going to work?"

"Why wouldn't it?" Karnak replied.

Now then, how does one frame someone as a cultist? You plant evidence of cult activity around them and have other cultists give false confessions. An ordinary person wouldn’t even know where to get such evidence, much less force cultists to confess falsely. But what if the ones doing the framing are cultists themselves?

"When it comes to framing someone, no one does it better than the actual criminals," said Karnak.

And so, it seemed that Diogres Kolon had been backed into a corner with no way out. He now had to contend with both the empire’s martial king and an archmage, and people were already shaking their heads, saying this would be the end of the Master of the Tower of Dawn.

"I think the same," Karnak said. "Diogres is strong, but if both Elezar and Dreltein come at him, there’s not much he can do."

Varos, however, seemed to think differently. "I’m not so sure. It might not be that simple."

Karnak was surprised. "You think Diogres still has a shot?"

"Of course not. There’s no chance he wins," Varos said bluntly. When absolute powerhouses of equal rank fight two against one, the odds of a miracle were close to none. But that wasn’t the part that concerned him. "They need to take Master Kolon alive. Only then can they summon his future self into that body."

Killing him would be easy. Capturing him? That was another matter entirely.

"It’s not going to be as smooth as Elezar and Dreltein seem to think."

***

In the northern parts of the Lacania Empire, cold winds blew year-round, and the land lay barren. A single dark-blue tower rose tall and proud.

Surrounding the tower was a stretch of land where warm breezes blew and wondrous flowers bloomed year-round. The phenomenon was clearly unnatural, and clearly shaped by magic. Anyone could tell at a glance that the power residing within that tower was extraordinary.

It was the Tower of Dawn, the very heart of magical history. The tower had stood tall long before the empire itself. It was the spiritual home of all mages, and the target of their respect. However, the elegant structure was now facing an utterly disrespectful situation.

Its beautiful gardens were trampled under the hooves of filthy warhorses, and its stately bridges and pillars were being used to string up tents. Thousands of troops had surrounded the tower and set up camp.

From the top floor of the tower, a man in his fifties clicked his tongue as he looked out. "Tch. What in the world is this..."

The man had a refined look, with neatly slicked-back hair and clean-shaven face. He might’ve appeared mild, but his eyes burned with an undeniable strength. He was Diogres Kolon, Master of the Tower of Dawn and an archmage of the empire.

"Elezar and Dreltein have really committed themselves this time," he continued.

The other mages in the room broke the silence.

"Master Diogres..."

"This accusation is absolutely absurd."

"How can they call you the leader of a heretical cult?"

Their expressions were filled with disbelief. And truly, it was laughable. Why would Diogres, a man who had ruled as one of the empire’s archmages for decades, ever turn to a cult? What did he lack?

With the prestige and reputation he’d built, none of the mages could believe for even a second that he had anything to do with the Black God’s Cult. But the real problem was that his accusers—Martial King Dreltein and Archmage Elezar—also had reputations that could not be easily dismissed.

They were people trusted never to speak baselessly. And so, Diogres’ utterly nonsensical accusation was, unfortunately, accepted by the public as plausible.

—An archmage, a cultist? Why?

—No idea. But another archmage says it’s true.

—Still, if someone like that did join a cult, there’d have to be a good reason, right?

—Come on, people fall into cults all the time. No reason needed.

—Yeah, fair point.

That was about the extent of it. From the tower’s perspective, it was a ludicrous turn of events.

One of the mages clicked his tongue and muttered bitterly. "Sure, commoners can say stupid things like that. But why would a martial king and an archmage go this far...?"

Diogres gave a quiet, dry laugh. "I wouldn't know. I’ve never had any deep conversations with either of them."

Though both were known as the wisdom of the empire, Diogres and Elezar had never been particularly close. In fact, it might’ve been because they shared that title that they’d never grown close.

They had always been rivals, not collaborators. In their youth, they at least exchanged greetings, but after both had risen to the rank of archmage, the number of their interactions could be counted on one hand. With no point of contact, there was never an opportunity to build any sort of rapport.

"But judging by all this, I doubt things would’ve turned out much differently even if we had shared honest conversations," Diogres said with a wry smile, gazing out at the army encamped around the tower.

One of the other mages hesitantly asked, "Are you really going to fight them? There might still be a chance to resolve this peacefully..."

Diogres dismissed the idea with a firm shake of his head. "No. There's no such chance left."

If the charges had been of a lesser nature, maybe there would’ve been room for negotiation. But the accusation leveled against him was that of being the leader of a heretical cult. It was an offense that left no room for redemption.

"This has already become an inquisition," he said.

It was the sort of crime that, once declared, could never be taken back. And what if it turned out Diogres wasn't guilty? Then the backlash would fall on Elezar and Dreltein. If they had truly wanted to confirm whether or not he was part of the cult, they wouldn’t have gone about it so openly. They would’ve investigated discreetly and only acted once they were sure.

"In other words, it doesn’t matter to them whether I’m a cultist or not." Their intent to eliminate him, regardless of the truth, was all too clear. That part left no doubt. But another question gnawed at him. "Why, though? I should still be useful to the empire."

What did the empire gain by purging the Master of the Tower of Dawn on such absurd charges? No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t come up with a single benefit.

And it’s not like Elezar or Dreltein stand to gain anything by making me their enemy, either.

Whatever the case, surrendering quietly was not an option.

"Elezar is probably out there somewhere." Diogres slowly raised both arms. "And Dreltein is likely here as well."

A martial king and an archmage had joined forces to take him down. As another archmage—and as the Master of the ancient Tower of Dawn—he couldn’t afford to meet them unprepared. His right hand wrapped firmly around a crystal staff. An elegant shimmer danced at its tip. The tip of the staff cycled through colors as it radiated immense magical energy.

It was the Dawnshroud Staff, sacred artifact of the Master of the Tower of Dawn. With power gripped in his hand, the empire’s archmage spoke coldly. "Prepare to receive our guests."