SMMA 67

Episode 67

The last of the Blue Dragon Tower students arrived late, eyeing the noisy lounge with confusion.

“What’s going on?”

“Wadanaz said we should raid White Tiger Tower and steal their flag!”

“…Wooooooo!! Been waiting for this!!”

Each new arrival, upon hearing the plan, erupted into cheers.

“Still think trading flags would be safer,” Gainando muttered, clearly unconvinced.

Ihan turned to him, curious. It was rare for Gainando to press an opinion so stubbornly.

“Why do you think so?”

“If we just exchange, we both pass safely, without danger.”

“True. But didn’t we already conclude we can’t trust White Tiger Tower?”

“This time they seemed trustworthy.”

“Why?”

“They gave me bread and milk, smiling kindly…”

“……”

Ihan nearly fainted.

Bread and milk? In a time when food itself was scarce? That was no kindness.

At best, sharing half a piece of bread would imply goodwill. More than that meant foul intentions.

They tried to bribe him?

Well… on reflection, Gainando was a tempting target—noble blood, therefore influence, or at least the illusion of it. And, frankly, easy to poke and test.

Ihan thought, then made his choice.

“Fine. Gainando, before the raid, try your approach. Go tell White Tiger Tower I’ve changed my mind.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah. But don’t tell the others. No way they’d accept it.”

“True enough! I’ll tell them now!”

Strutting with confidence, Gainando left.

Beside Ihan, Yonellia grimaced with concern.

Ihan nodded slightly, assuring her, “Don’t worry. Tigers are rough, but even they won’t bully Gainando this badly right now.”

“No, I’m worried he’ll betray us.”

“…Gainando? He wouldn’t.”

“You never know. If only there was a potion to prevent betrayal.”

“……”

For the first time Ihan was quietly alarmed—Yonellia’s calm voice masked something a little frightening.

And wasn’t Gainando her cousin?!

Elsewhere, White Tiger Tower.

“Done?”

“All done.”

Their new flag gleamed—bright colors and proud emblem.

A fake, of course.

Yes, the Tower was willing to “trade.” But the plan was deceit—swap their counterfeit for the Dragons’ real one.

Not simple, though. The Blue Dragons were sharp-eyed, so the forgery had to be flawless.

The Tigers had bartered dearly: trading rare rabbit meat (a scarce feast in these hungry days) for the cloth and dyes on the Black Turtle black market. Painful sacrifice to make the forgery convincing.

“Moradi! It’s set! That prince idiot fell for it—wants to trade at noon tomorrow in front of the main hall!” Angrago, a goat beastman, came panting.

“As expected! Well done, Angrago!”

“Worth it, after all the fine food I fed him!”

The Tower clapped, stomped, and cheered.

But Giselle looked worried.

“What is it, Moradi?” asked Duke-ma the dwarf.

“I’m still not convinced that ‘prince’ is reliable material.”

Her instincts warned her. Leaders radiated presence—something you could feel, even if you didn’t want to admit it. Like Wadanaz, undeniably.

But Gainando? He carried no such aura.

“Trust Angrago, Moradi. This prince will be leverage.”

“Yeah, I think so too.”

Others backed Angrago quickly. Giselle scowled privately.

This is the same boy who ran off bawling when three of us faced Wadanaz… what confidence?

But she swallowed the words. Even as the de-facto head of White Tiger Tower, she couldn’t smother every complaint. Soldiers bristled if denied their voice—it could fracture them. So she listened, pretending trust.

“Alright. If Angrago says so.”

“Hehe.”

Angrago grinned, scratching his head shyly.

And anyway—it was only a fake flag. Even in failure, they lost nothing meaningful.

So Giselle nodded. “Fine. Tomorrow we trade.”

“Understood!” they shouted.

Midnight.

While campus slumbered, Ihan and his allies slipped from Dragon Tower.

Not Dragons alone. They had a Black Turtle with them—Ratford, the professional thief.

“Follow me.”

Ihan wasn’t reckless enough to go without a rogue’s expertise, and Ratford had agreed happily.

“Ah—!” Yonellia gasped, making Ihan stiffen.

“What?”

“We should’ve brought Nillia!”

“!!!”

He slapped his forehead. Foolish oversight. If Nillia learned of this later…

“Ratford. If Nillia asks, I never called you.”

“Understood.” Ratford started to answer, then stopped.

“No. She’ll find out anyway.”

Ihan sighed. I’ll explain later.

“That’s White Tiger Tower,” Ratford whispered.

Moonlight painted the tower silver-white. Ihan nodded, advancing.

“Remember the plan. Stick to it.”

It wasn’t much of a plan. Ihan and Ratford first. The others waited outside, watching until called.

Still, everyone’s nerves rattled—this was their first night raid.

“Ratford—should I bite a twig to keep quiet? I read that in a story once.”

“No patrols, no need.”

“I wrapped my shoes in cloth for silence!”

“And now you’ll slip to death. Take it off.”

Somehow the thief had become an impromptu stealing instructor.

“Let’s go.”

“Yes.”

They reached the Tower door—already familiar from Ihan’s past wanderings.

He laid a hand upon it, probing its magic.

“…!”

The surge nearly floored him.

The sheer tangle of spells—hundreds woven in layers—crashed into his perception. His gift made him sense far more than any novice should. Enough to drown.

“I-is he alright?” Ratford whispered, terrified of the sweat dripping down Ihan’s face.

“Fine. Just… adjusting. It’s formidable.”

“Tower wards aren’t made for easy entry. If too hard—”

“No. I’ll do it.”

He narrowed to a single goal: breaking the barrier on the door.

WWUUUUMMMMM—

Even the thief felt the amassed mana roaring.

If he errs—!

KA-BOOOM!!!!

The shockwave stormed across campus. The Dragon students waiting outside jumped at the blast.

Then Ihan shouted: “Door’s down! Everyone in!!”

“L-let’s go!”

• Master! White Tiger Tower wards have collapsed! 

Anti-magic terrorists again?! How dare they breach the school walls—

The Skull Headmaster, deep in his underground workshop, startled.

• No, it’s students. 

“Ahhh. That makes sense. They’re completing my assignment.”

He settled quickly.

But pondered.

Students cannot unravel these wards—they’d need artifacts. Which careless fool dropped one? No… there is another way.

Then he realized.

One of the new students could brute-force disrupt wards.

He smashed them open? Barbaric… But who taught that method?

Few knew it, fewer used it. Too dangerous, too wasteful—theory books didn’t even teach it. Professors never encouraged raw smashing of magic.

• Shall I investigate? 

“No, you idiot. I was musing. But—what of the other defenses? Towers don’t shield only their doors.”

• Sir… the other layers. They’re collapsing too. 

“……”

The skull froze.

Not only the entrance—but internal defenses too?

“No… what savage fool…”

How immense must the blast have been—to rupture all wards at once?