The Extra's Rise-Chapter 159: Tower of Magic Conference (5)

Charlotte Alaric sighed dramatically, slumping against the plush chair in her office. The ceiling-high digital interface in front of her displayed the top-tier research papers from the Senior Conference, the supposed best of the best.

And yet.

"Boringggg," she drawled, tossing a conjured ball of light into the air, watching it spin lazily before vanishing into a wisp of energy.

Her emerald-green eyes flicked from one paper to the next, each carrying prestigious names and impressive technicalities—but zero true excitement.

"Derivation of the Seventh Circle and its Theoretical Expansion."

Yawn.

"Stabilization of Advanced Multi-Elemental Convergences."

Didn’t someone submit that last year?

"High-Efficiency Spatial Displacement in Combat Environments."

She wrote a better version of that when she was eighteen.

She stretched her arms, already half-ready to call it quits. The only reason she was even reading these was because her secretary insisted.

"You have to pick at least one, Master Alaric," her secretary had nagged earlier that day. "It’s important for the Tower’s future."

As if any of these dull, by-the-book academics could shake the magical world.

Then, something caught her eye.

Her gaze landed on a paper categorized under Junior Conference—a submission so out of place among the seniors that she almost ignored it. Almost.

"Hmm?" She tilted her head, curiosity piqued. "What’s this doing here?"

The title was deceptively simple.

"Optimizing the Tri-Binding Process: A New Method for Lich Creation."

She blinked.

Then, she read.

Her fingers drummed against the sleek desk as her eyes rapidly scanned through the content. Slowly, the casual boredom slipped away from her face.

Her green eyes narrowed.

Then widened.

Then widened even more.

By the time she reached the end, she was sitting upright, her lips parting slightly.

This—this wasn’t just a minor improvement. It wasn’t some young necromancer figuring out how to tighten mana control. This was a revolution in how the very foundation of necromantic constructs was assembled.

And it was written by a first-year.

At Mythos Academy, of all places.

"Arthur Nightingale," she murmured, tapping her desk to pull up a live feed of conference participants. A list of names hovered in front of her, sorted by sections. With a flick of her fingers, she navigated to the junior section.

And there he was.

A black-haired boy with calm, piercing eyes.

"Found you," she whispered, her lips curling into an intrigued smile.

Then, without hesitation, she vanished.

A shift in space.

An axis bent.

And then—

She was gone.

__________________________________________________________________________________

The evening had settled comfortably, casting a quiet glow over the high-rise hotel overlooking the heart of Avalon.

I sat on the couch, tossing a snack into my mouth while Rose and Cecilia sat across from me.

"I mean, I still can’t believe you submitted a paper on yourself, Cecilia," I sighed, stirring my tea. "That’s peak arrogance."

"And they loved it," Cecilia replied smugly, lounging back against the cushions. "Because I’m interesting, unlike whatever nonsense those other losers submitted."

I shook my head. "You literally wrote about how amazing your own Gift was."

"And they accepted it!" Cecilia grinned, twirling a strand of golden hair. "Seems like my existence is research-worthy. Must be hard for you commoners."

Before I could respond, a violent surge of space mana ripped through the room.

A tear in the air.

A high-level teleportation.

Before any of us could react, a red-haired woman materialized in the center of the suite.

Rose froze mid-sip.

Cecilia’s smirk vanished.

Because standing before us, with the casual ease of someone who didn’t need to knock, was Charlotte Alaric—Archmage and Tower Master of the Tower of Magic.

For a single second, my brain didn’t register what just happened.

Then, I blinked.

I had read about her.

Oh.

Oh shit.

"Master!"

Both Rose and Cecilia shot up from their seats, their voices overlapping in shocked unison.

The red-haired Archmage simply waved a hand, a lazy, amused gesture as if she had just dropped by for tea instead of violating every security measure in the hotel with an instant teleportation.

Updated from freewёbnoνel.com.

"Oh, hello, been a while, hasn’t it?" Charlotte drawled, green eyes sweeping over both of them. But her gaze lingered just a fraction longer on Cecilia, a knowing glint behind her smile.

Officially, only Cecilia was her disciple, the one who had passed whatever trials Charlotte had devised. Rose had failed. Yet, judging by the way Charlotte simply acknowledged her presence without a second thought, Rose had clearly received her teachings anyway.

Interesting.

But right now, the real problem was that one of the strongest alive was looking directly at me with the bright, burning curiosity of someone who had just found her next favorite research project.

And that was never a good thing.

"Wow, you really are something, aren’t you?" she murmured, stepping closer, her gaze sweeping over me like I was some rare anomaly she had to dissect for the sake of magical advancement.

A shiver crawled down my spine.

"Fifteen years old. White Star. Black Star. White core, too?" she listed, tapping her fingers against her arm. Then, her brows furrowed slightly, and something like genuine surprise flickered across her features.

"And… what the hell? Balanced in both Mind and Body aspects?" she muttered, rubbing her chin before sighing. "Talent really is unfair, huh?"

I had the sudden, overwhelming urge to take a step back.

I did not like where this was going.

Cecilia apparently sensed it too because she suddenly moved in front of me, blocking Charlotte’s line of sight.

"Master, what exactly are you doing here?" Cecilia asked, her tone firm.

Charlotte blinked at her like a cat caught in mischief.

"Oh?" She tilted her head, amusement dancing across her face. "I just wanted to meet the person I decided to sponsor."

Silence.

I felt both Rose and Cecilia stiffen at the same time.

And I stared at her.

Wait.

What?

"Wait, Master, what are you talking about?" Cecilia’s voice cut through the room, sharp with urgency.

Charlotte simply smirked, crossing her arms as she leaned against the nearest wall with the kind of ease only a person who outranked everyone present by a ridiculous margin could have.

"I chose Arthur’s paper, of course," she said, her tone light, as if she hadn’t just dropped a bomb in the middle of the conversation.

Cecilia and Rose froze.

"It is the best by far," Charlotte continued, her green eyes gleaming. "And thus, I sponsor Arthur Nightingale."

I blinked. Once. Twice.

"Wait. Sponsor me?" I repeated, because I was pretty sure I had hallucinated that sentence.

"Oh, I guess you don’t know," Charlotte mused, tapping her chin. "There’s this new program where the Tower Master—aka me—chooses a promising talent in the research world and sponsors them. And that talent, this time, is you."

"You."

She pointed at me like I was some shiny artifact she had just found in the rubble of academia.

"So congratulations, you’re now my personal research project!"

Cecilia’s eyes widened in disbelief, while Rose just gaped, her brain clearly short-circuiting as she processed the fact that the most powerful spellcaster in the world had just claimed me as her personal student.

Charlotte, apparently having the time of her life, continued.

"Of course, this doesn’t just mean financial backing," she said, waving a hand. "Money’s easy. What you need is access. Resources. People. A place where you can push the boundaries of your field without being slowed down by red tape and bureaucratic nonsense."

She leaned forward, grinning.

"For future research, you’ll do it in the Tower of Magic itself."

I barely had time to process the insane weight of those words before she delivered the final blow.

"And you are now my next disciple!"

Silence.

A long, awkward, deafening silence.

My brain stalled.

’Arthur, accept this.’

Luna’s voice cut through my mental fog.

’This girl… she’s more abnormal than that King of the North.’

I didn’t even know what that meant, but I trusted Luna’s instincts far too much to ignore her advice.

And, honestly, what was I going to do? Say no to Charlotte Alaric?

"I accept," I said.

"Wonderful!" Charlotte beamed. "Summer break, you’re coming to the Tower of Magic. I’ll treat you well."

She winked.

Then, as if she hadn’t just flipped my entire life upside down, she warped out of existence, vanishing into thin air.

The room remained dead silent for a solid ten seconds.

Then, finally, Cecilia chuckled, shaking her head.

"Well, at least we’re spending summer together," she said.