Sensing that his hunch had become reality, Ian merely twitched his eyes without showing it.

"You would do that for me, Mentor?"

"Yes. If your research reaches completion sooner, it will benefit me greatly as well." Roben answered without slowing his steps, his tone sounding as though he were offering an enormous favor.

After staring into Ian’s eyes for a moment, he continued, "With my help, you’ll be able to eliminate every variable caused by pain or fear. And of course, they will obey whatever command you give them."

"Like those masked slaves?"

"It will be a tremendous aid to your research. And in truth, it is no less than mercy for them as well. They will be freed from unnecessary fear and suffering," Roben replied calmly before glancing back at the group behind them. "Look at them. Aren’t they all terrified? Pitiful creatures."

Even if the group was only acting, the remark was utterly disgusting. Of course, Ian didn’t bother turning around.

Stroking his chin as if in thought, he finally said, "That certainly... would be a great help."

Roben turned back toward him and added casually, "Though I would have to take custody of your test subjects for a while."

"If you would allow me to observe as well, I’ll accept. To be honest, I’d almost like to ask for it immediately." Ian answered with narrowed eyes, meeting Roben’s gaze. "My curiosity is difficult to suppress."

"Observation wouldn’t be difficult. Hmm, right now, you say...." Stroking his beard thoughtfully, Roben lowered his gaze.

The end of the curved staircase was approaching.

"It would be rather tiring, and technically a small violation of procedure, but it’s not a request I can’t grant," he said just as the view of the floor below revealed itself.

Finally.

Ian lifted his eyes sharply and said, "Really?"

He kept his gaze fixed on Roben, not even glancing toward the lower floor.

Roben cleared his throat quietly and stroked his beard again. "You will owe me a great debt, Apprentice Mage Ivan."

"On my name and my insignia, I swear I will repay it, Mentor." Ian nodded firmly.

With a finely sharpened dagger.

"Yes, the more we talk, the more I can’t help but lament Matthias’s foolishness. To think he tried to cast aside such a clever and ambitious disciple."

Roben smiled with satisfaction and jerked his head slightly.

"Then from here on, simply follow my lead. And keep your words to a minimum. Understood?"

"Yes, Mentor," Ian answered readily.

It wasn’t difficult to guess why Roben wanted him to stay silent. The lower floor spread out before them beyond the staircase. The structure itself wasn’t very different from the lower level, but far more people were moving through the streets.

—Looks like he’s worried someone else might compete for the deal...

Yog snickered mockingly.

Ian followed Roben as they stepped onto the middle level. The gazes of the mages walking the streets, each accompanied by one or two masked slaves, gathered on them.

Clack— clack—

It wasn’t just Ian drawing their attention.

The dignified black warhorse in armor, followed by the procession behind it, was bound to stand out.

—Can you feel it, my friend? They all smell the same. It’s making my mouth water...

Unlike before, Roben now quickened his pace noticeably. He clearly wanted to descend to the next level as quickly as possible.

"You seem to be in quite a hurry, Roben. Shouldn’t you still be on duty?"

Ian discovered the reason when they passed through the central plaza.

A half-gray-haired mage stepped forward, blocking their path.

After glancing briefly at Ian, he added, "And you’ve even brought along a junior I’ve never seen before."

"There’s a good reason for it, Sawyer," Roben replied, his brow twitching slightly. He slowed his steps and shot Ian a glance, clearly telling him to keep quiet.

"Go on then. I’m curious why an elder who should be setting an example has broken the rules," said the half-gray-haired mage, Sawyer. He came to a stop, a faint smile resting on his lips.

Roben halted as well and tilted his head toward Ian. "This junior here is Matthias’s disciple. I found him outside, and it’s his first time at the tower. Since Matthias met with misfortune, isn’t it only natural that I, his old friend, would take care of the boy?"

"Old friend? You?" Sawyer lifted one eyebrow slightly as he asked. His brows were nearly as gray as his hair.

Roben nodded without hesitation. "It’s true that I was one of the closest to him. I intend to have him stay at my residence until his qualification review is complete, so if you would step aside."

"Hmm... that makes it even stranger."

Sawyer’s eyes narrowed slightly as his gaze shifted to Ian.

"No matter if he’s Matthias’s disciple. Bringing him to the upper level? Surely you know that violates the rules."

"It seems Matthias treated the boy rather harshly. Enough that the resulting distrust now extends to us as well. He refuses to entrust his slaves to anyone else. What choice do I have but to take responsibility for him myself?" Roben replied with a click of his tongue.

Stroking his beard, Sawyer looked back at Ian. "Is that true?"

With Roben glancing sideways at him, Ian bowed his head as he answered, "Yes. It is."

Sawyer’s eyes narrowed further as he examined him. "To show such insolence... If you cause even the slightest problem—"

"I’ll take responsibility." Roben cut him off.

Meeting Sawyer’s gaze, he stroked his beard again. "I conducted his examination after all. Naturally, the responsibility falls to me. Though I doubt there will be any problems."

After watching Roben for a moment, Sawyer finally said, "At the very least, we should search him once more. Not that I distrust you, but cross-checking is the safer course, wouldn’t you agree?"

A deep crease formed between Roben’s brows, and a silence fell over the area. Every mage nearby had stopped what they were doing and was watching them.

"I understand," said Ian.

As Roben turned toward him, he continued calmly, "I don’t wish to cause any further trouble. Please, inspect me as thoroughly as you like."

He spread his arms slightly and jerked his head back toward the group behind him.

Miguel, whose face was now drenched in cold sweat, awkwardly raised both arms.

"Hmm..." Sawyer snapped his fingers.

The two masked slaves standing behind him stepped forward immediately. Their emotionless hands began searching Ian.

One of the slaves unclasped the ring holding the jewel fixed to Ian’s left hand.

"You left the jewel on him," said Sawyer, as though he had been waiting for that moment.

Roben frowned and replied, "You know perfectly well that a jewel without its magic stone is nothing more than decoration."

"I know. But procedure is procedure," Sawyer said without blinking.

The masked slaves moved behind Ian to continue the search.

—Just give the signal, Friend.

Yog’s whisper slid into Ian’s mind.

—I think I can turn these things into my servants in no time. No... your servants.

The confidence in its voice was unmistakable.

However, Ian gave no signal. It was not only because Roben was looking at the scene with visible irritation.

There was simply nothing to find.

In the bag strapped to one side of Moro’s saddle were only a few coins, a handful of magic stones, some dirt-stained preserved rations, and a battered old canteen.

"How insulting. Is this really necessary?"

While the group behind them breathed nervously as if frightened, Roben spat the words out.

Sawyer burst into a hearty laugh. "I don’t recall following the rules ever being considered an insult. And besides, I’m curious as well."

His gaze swept across the group before returning to Roben. "No matter if he’s Matthias’s disciple. Why are you going this far for him? Is it truly nothing but goodwill?"

"Not everyone needs a reason to show kindness, the way you do."

The two mages’ gazes collided in midair.

Watching them quietly, Ian swallowed another dry laugh.

Look at these idiots.

It was nothing less than a factional squabble. The two corrupted spellcasters were baring their teeth at each other like children.

Roben, his nose twitching as he glared at Sawyer, finally turned back. "It seems they’re finished, so take your slaves and move along. You can confirm for yourself whether there was anything worth finding."

"Very well. We’ll see," Sawyer snapped his fingers.

The masked slaves returned to his side, holding the trivial items they had taken.

Roben snorted loudly as if making sure everyone heard it, then looked back at Ian.

"I’m the one who feels embarrassed here. Come along, Ivan."

"Yes, Mentor."

Ian followed Roben as he strode off. He didn’t forget to bow his head slightly toward Sawyer, whose narrowed eyes seemed intent on seeing through the face beneath Ian’s hood.

Once they had passed through the plaza, Roben muttered, "Don’t mind what just happened."

"I’m fine, Mentor."

"Good. I’ll tell you more about that man later. Though he’s hardly worth knowing in the first place."

Ian suppressed another laugh.

Just as Sawyer had suspected, Roben clearly had ulterior motives—and yet he genuinely felt insulted and resentful.

Spellcasters...

In any case, no one else blocked their path after that.

This time, the corridor they entered didn’t end in another staircase. Instead, it led to a small stone chamber just wide enough for their group to fit inside.

Rumble...

When Roben placed his hand on the magic stone embedded in the center of the spell circuit, the door shut, and a vibration spread through the room.

Ian’s eyebrow twitched almost immediately.

The room was moving.

"It’s an elevator. You experienced one already when you entered the tower."

At Roben’s explanation, Ian let out a quiet sound of realization and nodded. "Yes. I didn’t expect there to be another."

"You could call it a privilege. The tower is far too deep to rely solely on stairs. It won’t break down, so there’s no need for pointless worries," Roben said arrogantly, as though he had never been angry at all.

A faint smile appeared on Ian’s lips. This one wasn’t forced.

Even if something happens below, they won’t be able to rush in all at once.

The entrance examination to the tower was strict, but the interior itself was full of gaps. It probably meant their security had never been breached before.

Despite a few complications, Ian had reached the upper levels in one move.

—We could really start by blowing his head off right here.

Yog began whispering sinister plans with a snicker, though it didn’t last long.

Rumble—

The elevator stopped, and the opposite wall slid open.

Beyond it was the upper level, a place far quieter than the middle tier, with larger buildings spaced throughout.

"From here on, don’t raise your head."

"Yes, Mentor."

Stepping outside behind Roben, Ian subtly narrowed his eyes.

It wasn’t just the scenery that had changed. The air carried a level of corrupted magic strong enough to make the essence bead of chaos resonate.

This isn’t the source.

Ian quickly realized the magic was seeping up from beneath the stone pavement. The true demonic realm had to lie deeper underground, most likely the same place he had entered the game.

—Not many people here. They’re all holed up inside their houses. Makes me wonder what they’re up to.

While Yog snickered, Ian followed Roben across the plaza. He, too, was keenly sensing the surrounding presence.

Roben stopped not long after.

Rumble...

A slab in the gray-white wall sank inward before rising upward. Beyond it, a softly lit interior revealed itself.

"Come in," Roben said as he stepped inside.

Ian simply nodded and walked forward. The doorway was tall enough for Moro to pass through as long as it lowered its head.

Rumble...

Once everyone had entered, the door closed again with the sound of mechanisms grinding. Even then, Ian didn’t miss the brief moment when Roben placed his hand against one of the spell circuits on the wall before pulling it away.

"No matter if it’s a familiar, this is the first time I’ve let a horse into my home," Roben muttered.

Ian glanced back at Moro and curled the corner of his lips slightly.

A faint violet glow flickered in the creature’s eyes.

"Follow me. I hope you’ll understand if we restrain your guard for the moment." Roben gestured and turned around.

One of the masked slaves leaned the weapons it was carrying against the nearby wall before stepping toward Miguel and twisting his right arm behind his back.

Miguel only panted, offering no resistance. His face looked as though he would have preferred to be wearing the blindfold again.

Ian gave him a brief look that said just endure it for now, then turned around.

"Is the Tower Master on the highest level?" asked Ian. He looked around as calmly as his tone suggested.

The place could easily have passed for the residence of an ordinary frontier noble, a courtyard at its center with rooms built around it.

"That’s right. No need to concern yourself with it. You’ll meet him when the time comes." Roben said while walking ahead, glancing back at Ian. "Untie the ropes. That familiar of yours won’t be coming downstairs anyway."

"Yes," Ian answered readily and slowed his steps.

Miguel, held by the masked slave, walked ahead with a miserable expression.

"Would you mind having one of your slaves watch my familiar, Mentor?"

After checking on the others’ condition, Ian began untying the rope from Moro’s saddle as he said, "It must be exhausted after such a long journey."

"Hmm... I don’t have anything suitable for a horse to eat," Roben murmured as he walked toward the courtyard.

Holding the rope in his left hand, Ian shrugged. "You can feed it something like dried meat."

"Definitely not an ordinary horse." Roben glanced at Moro with clear interest before flicking his hand.

A masked slave walking on the opposite side grabbed Moro’s reins. Moro snorted irritably but didn’t resist.

—You know, don’t you, Moro? That one is your prey.

Yog whispered ominously.

Roben led him into the courtyard. At the center, paved with marble instead of earth, stood a lone staircase descending into the underground.

"When we dealt with Sawyer earlier, it became quite clear to me. It’s been a long time since I’ve met a junior I like as much as you," Roben said suddenly as he headed toward the stairs.

He glanced back at Ian, who was following with the rope binding the others slung over his shoulder.

"These days, the younger ones are selfish and lack courage. Probably because they’ve grown up too comfortably—unlike you. Now then, come along."

With a tilt of his head, Roben began descending the stairs, dragging Miguel with him.

A faint smile touched Ian’s lips as he stepped onto the staircase after them.

"I’m fortunate as well... that you’re the one overseeing my evaluation, Mentor."

Beneath his cloak, his right hand, resting behind his back, quietly slipped into his pocket dimension.