A corner of the Imperial Capital. In one of the hideouts tucked away in the Decadent District, Not Koclea was scratching his head furiously.
It had been several days since his research facility was exposed and his crushing defeat at the hands of Thousand Transformations, yet the boiling rage he felt hadn't diminished in the slightest.
The Tower of Akasha was an infamous Arcane Society. The methods that organization employed in its pursuit of truth were wildly divergent from conventional ethics.
He understood that he had many enemies. If the ones who had attacked Not and his disciples had been a band of Hunters or the Empire's knights, then even if captured, Not wouldn't have been nearly this aggravated.
But that hadn't even been a battle.
If he closed his eyes, the scene came back to him in vivid detail.
The man called Thousand Transformations hadn't even viewed them as enemies. He had gone so far as to humiliate Not with that absurd label—"the Sand Rabbit researcher."
Until now, Not had always looked down on others and had almost never been looked down upon himself. Those words had been utterly intolerable.
Not's disciples watched him with uneasy expressions, unable to hide his irritation. These were Mages who had repeatedly conducted unethical research without hesitation, and yet they were all terrified of a single Hunter.
Their confident offensive magic had been completely nullified, and what was worse, they had been felled in a single blow by the offensive magic of a Hunter who didn't even carry a staff. It was no wonder they were anxious.
Mages possessed high resistance to offensive magic. The powerful mana sealed within their bodies served as a potent defense against attack spells. And for Mages of the Tower of Akasha, that resistance had reached a level where no ordinary spell could leave so much as a scratch.
Yet the technique Thousand Transformations had unleashed, despite being cast without any incantation, had possessed enough power to subdue every disciple except Not in a single strike.
If Not and his disciples hadn't been Mages, that one attack would have crushed them to death.
There had never been any information suggesting Thousand Transformations was a Mage. He couldn't deny that he had been caught off guard. But even accounting for that, the man's magic had clearly been equal to or greater than that of an Akasha Mage.
"Shouldn't we leave the Imperial Capital?"
"You— Are you telling me to tuck my tail and run!?"
"N-No, but—"
He barked down the timid disciple.
Running was not an option. Even if victory was impossible, he had to settle the score. He hadn't been lying low these past few days—he hadn't been hiding at all.
Not was a Mage. He had no intention of spouting nonsense about fighting to the death or honor or anything like that. But if he fled now, it would be far too pathetic.
The research was going well.
The Empire had discovered their existence, but their concealment was perfect. The Tower of Akasha was a large organization. They even had collaborators in the upper echelons of the Empire.
As long as Thousand Transformations—that man who had assaulted them so abruptly, like a natural disaster—was out of the picture, they still had a chance at victory.
No… Even if they left the country, they couldn't just leave Thousand Transformations be.
"There must be some kind of trick to all this… Sofia will be back soon too."
He had given his eldest disciple, who was on vacation, a precious Resonance Stone for emergencies.
Though she was exceptional, having to ask a disciple for help pricked Not's pride. But this was a crisis threatening the survival of his research—he had no choice.
He didn't know where she was right now, but she had promised to return immediately.
The research facility outside had been destroyed, but their fighting forces weren't limited to what was there. Once Sofia returned, they would have more than enough strength.
"Bu-But, even if it's Sofia—"
"Enough. What we need to focus on now is—"
After taking a deep breath, Not swept his gaze across the faces of the disciples gathered in the room.
Thousand Transformations had let them all go, so not a single one was missing.
The injuries from Gravity Magic had been completely healed through days of treatment.
This was cause for celebration, but it also left a lingering question.
What had been Thousand Transformations's objective?
If his goal had been to stop their research, letting them go at that time would have been impossible.
Some of their members were still working within the Imperial Capital, but the people who had been present at that site constituted the core of Not's research. If all of them had been captured, the research that was nearing completion would have been thwarted.
The fact that Thousand Transformations had deliberately shown his face to them meant he must have some kind of objective. It couldn't simply be humiliation. Not couldn't imagine a Hunter certified at Level 8 doing something so pointless.
To warn them and drive them out of the capital? But that wouldn't be a reason not to capture them.
Or—was he aiming not just for Not, but for the complete collapse of the Tower of Akasha?
Not dismissed that thought with a scoff.
The Tower of Akasha was a massive organization. Its members were spread across the world. Even Not, whose name resonated throughout the Imperial Capital of Zebuldia, was nothing more than a single member. It wasn't an opponent that one Hunter could handle, and Not himself didn't even know the full scope of the organization.
Even if Not and his disciples were captured, that wouldn't extend to the others conducting research elsewhere.
"Well, never mind. What we need to do now is to drain the infection from within, I suppose."
"What!? That means—"
Not turned his dark, murky gaze toward the murmuring disciples.
"Unfortunately… it appears there is a traitor among us."
"!"
Those eyes, reminiscent of the abyss, pinned them down, and the disciples held their breath.
Not rose and slowly moved among his disciples.
They were all exceptional Mages who had conducted research alongside him. They had ambition, but above that, they possessed a thirst for knowledge. Even Not himself would never have conceived of betrayal without circumstances like these.
"I'll ask just once—has anyone here leaked information to someone outside?"
"That's—impossible. We are all in this together! Master—"
The second disciple, a man, voiced his objection to Not's words.
Not had thought so too. The research they had been conducting was something no country would accept. And every person here had gotten their hands dirty to a greater or lesser degree. Unless they were suicidal, none of them would leak information to the outside.
But the reality was that information had leaked.
"The location of the research facility was exposed. The experimental subjects we created were destroyed. Thousand Transformations apparently showed up at that shop today. No matter how strong he is, he's still human. The only explanation is an informant on the inside."
The disciples fell silent at those calmly delivered words.
Akasha's concealment had been flawless. For nearly ten years, they had operated without anyone noticing.
Even a Level 8 Hunter shouldn't have been able to find them so easily.
More importantly, when asked how he knew the name of the strategic-class Golem "Akasha," Thousand Transformations had said: —"A friend told me."
"There appears to be a 'friend' of Thousand Transformations among us…"
"…"
Come to think of it, the fact that Thousand Transformations had used Gravity Magic—a technique with low lethality—was probably to avoid killing the informant.
Every person present other than Not himself was a suspect.
Others knew the name of the strategic-class Golem "Akasha," but very few knew that the research base had been moved near the Aleyn Column Ruins.
The fortunate thing was that Sofia, the eldest disciple, was excluded from the suspects. Losing Sofia now—the most outstanding of all his disciples—would be an enormous blow to Not.
Not peered up at each disciple's face in turn.
Tension. Fear. Anger. A mixture of emotions played across their faces as the second disciple spoke.
"B-But, even if there was an informant—the relocation was done in a rush. There was no way to communicate with Thousand Transformations…"
"There are plenty of ways. It would have been far easier than him finding that place on his own without any advance information."
He knew the backgrounds of all his disciples. To his knowledge, none of them had any connection to Thousand Transformations.
But that no longer mattered. Whether they had been threatened or bribed—it was all irrelevant.
What mattered most now was preventing any further leaks of information.
For a Mage, having one's hand revealed was the most lethal thing imaginable. Even if they set traps, having an insider working against them would render it all useless.
Now that he thought about it, the fact that all of the disciples' offensive magic had been nullified—could it have been because Thousand Transformations had predicted what spells they would use in advance?
Very few Mages had mastered all forms of magic. Even Not's disciples each had their own specialized spells.
While defending against every type of attack was difficult, there were methods for defending against a limited range of attack types. The fact that they had taken those hits so defenselessly—could it have been because Thousand Transformations had prepared countermeasures?
"I will take the fight to him. That man who mocked me as a rabbit researcher… I will kill him."
At Not's declaration, the disciples shuddered.
Fear filled their eyes. But none of them exhibited any particularly suspicious behavior.
No—not that Not had ever been confident in his ability to detect deception. He had never even harbored doubts before.
He circled the room around his disciples, who held their breath as though awaiting the moment of judgment, his hand caressing the familiar feel of his beloved staff.
Perhaps unable to endure the silence any longer, the second disciple—senior among the disciples present—spoke up.
"S-So, Master. This 'friend' of his… who is it, exactly?"
"How annoying… Not showing its tail, huh? Fine…"
His mind had been made up long ago.
He certainly didn't have the power to see through deception. But if he couldn't identify the traitor—then he simply needed to eliminate everyone he suspected.
They were his disciples, yes, but he felt no sentimentality. When conducting this kind of research, one had to anticipate a moment like this.
The research would be delayed, but all of its results existed in Not's head. He still had Sofia. As long as he could eliminate his nemesis, recovering would not be difficult.
"…Huh?"
The second disciple, who had been standing ramrod straight, let his eyes go wide. His posture crumbled, and he collapsed onto the floor.
No one screamed. Only the sounds of heavy bodies toppling one after another echoed through the room.
The informants were gone. The existence of their research had been exposed, and most of his disciples had been lost. But the fight was not over.
Once Sofia returned, they would start fresh. And Thousand Transformations would surely learn of his collaborator's death before long.
The next time they met—that would be Thousand Transformations's end.
In the now-still room, Not cast a cold gaze upon the disciples who had fallen without any chance to resist.
§ Not raised his head at the faint footsteps detected by the intrusion-detection magic he had laid out.
His eyes were bloodshot. The dark circles beneath them spoke to the depth of fatigue he had accumulated.
But despite his exhausted expression, the depths of his eyes burned with a fierce light.
Apart from Not and the single remaining disciple, no one else knew about this base.
"You've returned, Sofia."
"Yes… I have returned… Master."
The door opened. The woman who entered wore a plain gray robe—Sofia.
Fiery crimson hair was stuffed beneath her hood. Her beautiful blue eyes and delicate features gave her the appearance of a far less formidable Mage—one who couldn't possibly be engaged in forbidden research.
Having only just returned to the Imperial Capital, Sofia was still dressed for travel. A large bag was slung across her back.
Sofia. Sofia Black.
The most gifted Mage among all those Not Koclea had taught over the long years.
She was a woman who, given enough time and experience, would eventually surpass Not himself.
Even now, without years of experience behind her, she occasionally displayed flashes of insight that left even Not impressed—the kind of insight that society would never recognize and would seek to suppress.
And the Tower of Akasha would nurture that talent to its fullest.
"I know it's sudden, but I need you to fight an enemy."
"As Master Not… sees fit."
Despite having been abruptly summoned from her vacation without any explanation, there was no reproach in Sofia's expression.
She looked up at Not with eyes as calm as a still lake and asked briefly: "Where are the others?"
"There was a traitor. I dealt with them. You're the only one left."
Sofia's eyes widened just slightly.
The composure lasted only an instant. Her cheek twitched, and she spoke in a small voice, almost as if pleading.
"Might I… have the body?"
"…Later. We have more pressing matters first."
What flickered across her face was unmistakably a smile, though it vanished immediately.
It wasn't as though Sofia had ever been on bad terms with the other disciples. But even so—the emotion that came before grief at the death of a fellow disciple with whom she had conducted research together was something none of the others had shown.
Pure intellectual curiosity could sometimes be indistinguishable from malice. That rare glimpse of a sensibility so far removed from the norm—was one of the key reasons Not Koclea held Sofia in such high regard.
At her master's words, Sofia set her bag on the floor and gave a respectful bow.
"Understood. Master, might I trouble you for a moment before we discuss the matter at hand?"
"Why?"
This was a race against time. Thousand Transformations hadn't yet stormed their base, but there was no telling when he might arrive.
As Not asked the question, breathing heavily, Sofia produced a small box from her bag and allowed a faint smile to grace her lips.
"You seem rather fatigued, Master… I have some chocolates as a gift. Why don't we have some tea while we talk?"