When I was about to die, I proposed to five cruel princesses

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Ice rainbow, also known as seven-colored ice.

This was an advanced ice magic that required a total of five different spells to perform. Despite recent advancements in magic scroll technology, most of these advancements had been practical rather than artistic. Thus, scrolls that could perform spells like the Seven-Colored Ice, which blend artistry with magic, were still rare.

In other words, the success and form of such a magic spell depend entirely on the caster. It can be considered an art, with mana as the paint, and the caster's imagination as the brush.

Ezekiel spat out the sunweed and turned his palm towards the sky. The boy, without realizing it, focused intently.

…What kind of magic would unfold?

A chill began to swirl above the palm.

It was incomparable to the mass the boy had struggled to form. The shape was intricate, and the size several times larger.

"...."

The boy unconsciously held his breath; his heart began to race as he became certain he would see an ice rainbow—something he had never witnessed in his entire life.

Yet, the man's eyes held a somewhat distant look.

As if a realm unreachable to others even after a lifetime of struggle was utterly simple for him; as if a spectacle that ordinary people might see once in their lives, if they're lucky, was all too familiar to him.

As if he were merely recalling a common scene from the past.

"…This brings back memories," Ezekiel merely murmured.

~~••~~••~~

Meanwhile, 30 minutes earlier.

Near the Imperial Magic Tower in the bustling district.

Widro, the head of the theoretical faction at the Imperial Magic Tower, stroking his white beard, he spoke, "Only a few hours left until the inauguration ceremony. Has the reservation been made without issue? And the letter, you didn't forget to send it?"

"Of course not. I've reserved 'Twilight's Breath', the most prestigious place in the area. Those practical faction fellows must be feeling bitter by now."

"Well done."

Nodding with satisfaction, he was currently leading his group through the busy streets. The reason — to hold a strategy meeting for today's inauguration ceremony.

As they were heading towards 'Breath of Sunset'—

Bang!

Everyone frowned at the sudden noise.

Just as those trained in music had exceptionally keen hearing, mages were highly sensitive to sounds produced by magic.

And that sound was particularly abhorrent; the sound of a spell failing miserably. Like instruments being randomly smashed, it was grotesque.

Bang!

Bang!

The parade of failures and noise continued.

Even as they turned towards the source of the sound, the actual caster was hidden by the crowd. Widro had to suppress the urge to overturn everything.

"Seems someone is begging using magic."

"Is the bustling district always like this? It's changed a lot since I last saw it."

"Yes, this kind of thing is quite common."

In truth, Widro wasn't well-versed in the ways of the bustling district.

He was an extremely authoritarian mage who avoided spending time in busy areas, considering it too common.

"Those who want to do magic but lack talent, those who lack money for magic but don't want to do manual labor… Such people often resort to magic begging."

"Hmph. These days, people take magic too lightly," Widro snorted.

Magic was never a field easy enough for common folk to dabble in.

Not only was the difficulty of spellcasting high, but each manifestation was imbued with noble etiquette, and various magical activities require enormous amounts of money.

"No need to worry too much. Those who fail at begging will naturally disappear."

"I'm most curious about the one making the noise. How can they keep trying? Don't they feel any self-loathing producing such things? Aren't they ashamed?"

People seemed to share similar sentiments as they began to leave the area one by one. It must have been more horrific up close.

Finally visible, the caster was a beggar boy, and the area around him had cleared as if a barrier had formed.

Except for one person.

Well-groomed white hair falling to the shoulders, tall stature… Only one man remained by the boy's side until the end.

Widro gestured toward that man with his chin, "Why isn't that one leaving?"

"Must be an outsider. It probably seems interesting to him."

"He watches that trash out of curiosity? He must have a strong stomach."

Widro didn't want to pay attention to such abysmal spell manifestation, so their conversation topic naturally shifted.

"Let's talk about this new inspector who's being inaugurated."

He pulled out a rectangular object from his breast pocket. It was none other than an envelope.

"He even sent a reply already? Quite a bold fellow."

"Wouldn't it be good to check the contents? Who knows, he might have written asking for your favor since he's in line behind you, Widro."

"I've already read it. The reply is even bolder," Widro let out a derisive chuckle. "He just wrote down the location. Does he think he can summon me? Has this commoner lost all sense of propriety?"

"…That is indeed strange. Not only a commoner but one without experience, daring to show such audacity towards you, Widro?"

While the inspector might outrank him officially, Widro far surpassed him in understanding of the Magic Tower's internal affairs and practical experience.

In other words, coming to the Magic Tower with just an Inspector's title meant nothing; trying to push through various tasks would only lead to complaints about 'not understanding the local situation at all.'

If he understood this flow, he wouldn't dare to be so bold.

"When one knows nothing, they often become reckless. To think such a person is the Inspector, truly the world is in decline," Widro clicked his tongue.

"Anyway, he'll surely choose our side, right?"

"How could he possibly side with those practical faction fools? If he understands even a little about your position, Widro, he wouldn't dare."

Finally, Widro's lips curled up in satisfaction, "I think so too. If he stands with us, I'll have to consider what to do with him. I have many ideas in mind."

All Widro had lacked in his time at the Imperial Magic Tower was higher status and stronger power.

Now that he was about to obtain even that, he could pull out all the thorns in his side. The very thought was exhilarating.

"Will you deal with the practical faction first?"

"Of course. It's absurd to allow those parasites clinging to scrolls into the tower and call themselves mages."

However, someone nearby expressed concern.

"But… Widro, I'm a bit worried about something."

"What is it?"

"Isn't this year's schedule for the Imperial Magic Tower too tight? We have to present our achievements for the past 10 years, and there's the inter-tower competition…"

The performance presentation of the six towers occured every 10 years.

In fact, thanks to this, it wasn't obvious, but the Imperial Magic Tower hadn't done much in the past decade. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say it was just a glossy shell.

…It was actually a very big deal.

For the Imperial Magic Tower to maintain its current position, it needed to accomplish something in one go that surpassed the achievements other towers have steadily built over 10 years.

Widro looked at him seriously.

"So what are you trying to say? That we should use scrolls for immediate results and victory in the competition?"

"No, absolutely not. That's not what I meant at all."

"Then?"

"Given the scale of this year's events, I'm worried the Imperial Magic Tower might not be able to continue…"

"You fool!" Widro thundered before he could finish, "Why on earth should I worry about such a problem?"

"P-pardon?"

"If there's a problem with the Imperial Magic Tower, that's for the Inspector to take responsibility. I just need to drive out those unsightly practical faction members!"

"But if the entire Imperial Magic Tower falls…"

"That will never happen. How long has the tradition of the Imperial Magic Tower lasted? It won't disappear. Only the Inspector will change, that's all."

A quick-witted individual swiftly joined the conversation.

"That's right. We'll drive out the practical faction, the inspector will take responsibility for the performance… Perhaps after that, you could become the Inspector yourself, Widro."

"Me, the Inspector? Ho ho ho…"

Widro's face filled with a covetous desire.

"..."

At some point during their walk, the theoretical faction group came to a halt.

They had encountered unwelcome faces. The opposite side seemed to feel the same, stopping abruptly.

It was Nox, the leader of the practical faction, and his group.

"Move aside."

Despite Widro's words, both sides merely glared at each other with hostile eyes, neither willing to give way first.

"I said move. Did reserving a restaurant far beyond your class make you impatient? Is that why you're trying to interfere like this?"

"What nonsense."

Nox slightly pushed up the middle of his glasses with his ring and middle fingers. Behind the lenses, his eyes remained expressionless, "For so-called mages to compete over a restaurant's reputation, isn't that childish and pathetic? We don't stoop to such things. We compete with skill."

"What?"

"I understand your feelings. You must be anxious. After pouring years into each magic technique, seeing youngsters manifest with a single scroll activation must twist your guts."

Widro's expression grew more severe. The atmosphere between the practical and theoretical factions was becoming increasingly hostile.

Widro slowly stroked his beard, "Why would I have any reason to feel that way?"

"Why tell such an obvious lie? You're like a senile old man in the back room, struggling every moment without realizing you've already been pushed aside."

"Someone died recently, didn't they? From the practical faction."

"...…..?"

Nox's eyebrow twitched.

"An accidental death. That's how it was reported."

"..."

"It's absurd. A mage dying not from a spell backfire, not from being trapped in a mana-void space, but simply from forgetting a scrap of scroll paper."

Widro's expression showed nothing but contempt as he clicked his tongue. It was as if he'd heard news of an insect accidentally crushed underfoot.

Blatant disdain, undisguised disregard.

"..."

Nox quietly fingered the scroll in his breast pocket. Simultaneously, Widro began to slowly draw up mana.

Just as the verbal sparring was about to turn physical, someone shouted—

"Hey, hey! Look at that!"

It was an understandable outcry.

The sight of major figures from the Imperial Magic Tower openly confronting each other on the street was bound to draw attention. Widro and Nox continued to glare at each other murderously.

Nox pushed up his glasses and said—

"Would you like to taste this scrap of paper?"

"Were you planning to have an accidental death today too? I hadn't known."

At that moment, someone else shouted—

"That…! What is that!"

"Huh? Whoa!"

The people's reactions were oddly out of sync with their own actions. Puzzled by this, Nox and Widro turned their heads simultaneously.

And then they understood.

The surrounding people weren't interested in them at all.

"Hmm?"

"Hmm…?"

Nox and Widro muttered in unison.

Far off in the air, an ice sphere surrounded by a cloud of cold air was rotating. Even at a glance, it was enormous, dispersing an incredible aura in all directions as if it were the source of mana itself.

People continued to shout—

"Isn't that dangerous?"

"I-I don't know! I've never seen anything like it!"

Like an egg about to hatch, the sphere in the air vibrated with a cracking sound. It was clearly an ominous phenomenon to anyone watching.

"It's going to burst! It's definitely going to explode!"

"Everyone run!"

If such an enormous mass of cold energy were to explode…

No one could guarantee what would happen to the surrounding area.

Crack! Crack!

An ominous sound like the harbinger of disaster.

People scattered in all directions in panic.

…But.

Amidst the chaos, one person shouted. It was someone by Nox's side.

"Oh, oh? That man…!"

He pointed at the protagonist of this commotion with wide eyes.

"It's him! It's definitely that man!"

The gazes of those nearby instantly turned to him.

It was impossible not to be curious about someone who knew the person responsible for causing such an enormous disturbance.

What followed was even more shocking.

"The Inspector! It's the Inspector who's about to be inaugurated!"

This time, the gazes of both factions turned towards the Inspector.

The Inspector's expression was strange.

It was the look of a not-unlikeable mischief-maker.

To read all 150 episodes, patreon.com/Makima02