Great Teacher in a Defense Game

#63 The One You Seek

— *CRASH!!!*

“Nooo!!!”

‘The attempt was admirable, but the compatibility was just wretched.’

Enoch regarded the screaming Sandros with something akin to pity.

He already knew what madness had driven the man to this.

The Chain Harmony had revealed that the shield’s magic, once erected, maintained its effect until destroyed.

Most likely, he had poured a fortune into creating the barrier, intending to buy time by constantly repairing the damage.

‘If the damage is minimal, the cost of repair diminishes in kind. The Mage Lords wouldn’t be able to unleash their true power; they’d only need to keep patching the holes, enduring. That must have been the initial intent.’

Sandros’ gambit was certainly not unwise.

But the compatibility was simply too poor.

Enoch, caring little for restoration or anything of the sort, had simply overwhelmed it with brute force, shattering it to pieces.

Even so, the barrier stubbornly regenerated, but alas, Sandros’ purse had been emptied first.

Five or six times he had shattered it; nearly a hundred billion Crowe vanishing in the blink of an eye.

In this battle of capital against capital, Sandros’ wallet had succumbed first.

Liquidation, one might call it without exaggeration.

“Keuheueuk… how could this be…”

“Cease your weeping. Such days come to us all.”

“S-such days?”

“Indeed. Experiencing liquidation once in life is a valuable lesson.”

Enoch offered a modicum of comfort.

He crossed himself, offering a blessing for the repose of the now-empty wallet.

It goes without saying that even that meager consolation was of little solace.

“Now then, cease your dawdling and move aside, would you?”

“Euh, euheuk…”

“Your noise is bothersome; go weep over there.”

Enoch shoved the collapsed Sandros to the side. Then, turning his back, he beckoned the Mage Lords to approach.

“What are you waiting for? Let’s be off.”

“Ah, yes. We’re coming now.”

“…What were you all doing back there?”

“Nothing of consequence. Just gathering some of the broken shards.”

“Scraps, you say?”

“These, too, must hold potential. Some discovery awaits, should we but delve deep enough.”

Nordilla chuckled, collecting fragments of arcane residue.

Even Jayne and Vergo, with a certain furtiveness, pocketed shards of the wreckage.

It seemed the Imperial magics had piqued their interest.

Suddenly, Sandro’s entire fortune had become a source of fascination for the Archmages.

‘So much wealth, yet they scavenge… the haves are ever greedier…’

“Why do you look at us so?”

“It is nothing.”

In any case, it was not his concern. Enoch shook his head and hastened his pace.

The three Archmages followed the man, chuckling softly.

Then, abruptly, the group halted once more. At the building’s entrance, others were now emerging.

“And you lot are?”

“Uh… well… that is…”

“I recognize the attire. Directors of Dimaira, are you not?”

Their clothes were uniformly exquisite.

Enoch, noting their attire, swiftly identified them as Dimaira’s board members.

“Th-That’s… uh…”

“Sandro is over there. He has just lost his entire fortune.”

“Pardon?”

“The consequence of leveraging collateral, I presume? Or perhaps a gamble gone awry. The interest on such magics can be rather steep. Is that what you seek as well?”

“No, no! Heavens, no. Never.”

The directors bowed low, stepping aside. With Sandro fallen, they could attempt nothing on their own.

“Please, proceed. Dimaira always welcomes guests.”

“Ah, does it? Thank you.”

Enoch offered a curt word of gratitude before stepping into the building. The Archmages, as before, followed close behind.

Silence fell once more. Then, one of the directors murmured softly.

“Perhaps it’s time to prepare for a job change.”

“Is that truly necessary? We’re only contract workers, after all.”

“Indeed. You are correct.”

As everyone who needed to know already did, a directorship was a non-permanent position. In short, sever the contract, and all responsibility vanished with it.

Never had they felt such gratitude for that fact as they did today.

The directors who remained in their seats exchanged bright smiles.

Hah hah!

@

The group passed through the entrance and arrived in the main hall of the headquarters. They proceeded down the hallway.

“Quiet, isn’t it? Not a soul in sight, not even a shadow.”

“Can’t be helped. The situation being what it is.”

Jane responded with a stoic air. Indeed, her words rang true.

The staff, who would normally be busy at their work, were all sprawled out like discarded refuse near the building’s entrance.

Somehow, the entire company was suddenly on vacation.

The lighthouse of Novaris had been extinguished for the first time. Sadly, it was the first time since its founding.

“Where should we go now?”

“Hmm? Any ideas?”

“My guess is the Royal Room. That dank Orban has a penchant for showing off.”

“Keep your personal feelings out of it, Vergo.”

The group debated their next destination.

It was Nordilla who decided their course.

“Hmm. How about the top?”

“The top?”

“Yes. My feeling is, Orban would likely be watching the situation from the rooftop on the highest floor.”

Enoch found Nordilla’s words rather plausible.

Birds of a feather flocked together, and that blonde hoodlum would certainly look at home leaning back in a chair, assuming a condescending posture like a boss in a film.

“It certainly sounds plausible, doesn’t it?”

“Seems it’s settled then. Let’s go, to the highest floor.”

The other Tower Masters reacted similarly.

The group boarded the lift and ascended to the building’s topmost floor.

@

Enoch and the Tower Masters waited for the lift to halt.

-Ding.

The elevator doors slid open on the top floor. Before them stretched a wide gallery.

The walls were covered in costly marble, interspersed with sculptures adorned with gold.

Yet, in stark contrast to the opulence, the atmosphere was frigid. A silent tension hung in the corridor, devoid of any human presence.

“What is this now? Quiet as a tomb here too?”

“No interference all the way up, it was too easy.”

“Could be a trap, perhaps.”

Nordilla scanned their surroundings, her vigilance unwavering. Enoch, however, paid it little mind. Trap or no trap, it mattered not. He would simply break through.

“We’ll ascertain as we proceed. Everyone, be cautious.”

Enoch spoke thus and took the lead. The group followed with measured steps down the corridor.

And at long last, they reached the end of the hall, where a colossal double door stood.

“Quite the ostentatious entrance, wouldn’t you say?”

“I told you, this Orban fellow, he is given to grandstanding.”

Vergo scoffed, curling his lip.

Enoch stood before the door in silence. Then, he invoked his skill.

Chain Harmony.

The ends of his robe transformed into a serpent’s tail.

-CRASH!

With a thunderous impact, the door splintered. Jagged pieces scattered inward, clattering across the floor.

Beyond, a wide rooftop terrace was revealed.

There, a man was.

Hair of fair gold, neatly coiffed, clad in a luxurious suit, he sat reclined in a chair.

Orban, the Golden Sorcerer.

“Ah, you’ve finally arrived. My special guests.”

He sat with legs crossed in an arrogant pose. Slowly, he raised a hand in greeting.

“Welcome. Or, perhaps, not so welcome, truth be told.”

“Mutual sentiment, I assure you. Did you truly believe we came out of fondness for you?”

“Jane. Isn’t that a bit much, unleashing such vitriol right from the start? Show some respect to the host, at least, you blasted b*tch.”

“Coming from you? Consider the lengths we went to simply reach you.”

Jane retorted, blatant in her scorn. Orban merely shrugged.

“My mistake, engaging with a madwoman. This is why one should never bother conversing with those whose heads contain naught but-“

“Oi, Orban.”

“…Bergo? What brings you-“

“Where in the blazes is my electric car?”

Bergo cut him off, right there. The somewhat absurd question made Orban’s brow furrow.

“…? Why are you taking it out on me-“

“Dimeira Tech promised to send me an electric car this year. A year late, it is. And I already paid the damn money! Where in all the hells is my blasted electric car?!”

“You lunatic! Why are you pestering me with this! Contact the company or the factory!”

“You son of a-“

Bergo took a hefty step forward. Just as those around them flinched, Nordilla hastily restrained him.

“Enough now. We didn’t come here to fight. And, Orban?”

“…What is it.”

“We come in the name of the Guild. Enoch is the representative. He’ll tell you why he seeks you.”

Hearing those words, Orban averted his gaze. Enoch, who had been watching the situation unfold, slowly stepped forward.

“Orban.”

“Well, long time no see. I’d like to hear the answer you’ve been putting off from last time.”

“Regrettably, not today. A conclusion hasn’t been reached, as yet.”

“Heh, is that so?”

Orban let out a derisive snort, as if flabbergasted. That arrogant b*stard. Still trying to act refined in a situation like this.

“Anyway, you came looking for me? What business brings you?”

“There are suspicions against you.”

“Suspicions?”

“Indeed. The Guild has detected circumstances that suggest you are distributing narcotics. You must undergo a formal investigation accordingly.”

“…”

“Mages from the Imperial Court, the Association, and the Guild will hear your case and deliver judgment. Hire a lawyer or don’t, as you see fit.”

Enoch spoke with resolve. A short, clear sentence.

Orban did not react. He stared at Enoch with a blank expression for a long moment.

Then, he gave a small, humourless laugh.

“What was that?”

Abruptly, Orban burst into laughter.

“Hahahaha! Drug distribution? Is that all? The master mages of the Tower come swarming here, and the grand occasion is nothing more than a drug distribution charge?”

Orban scoffed, returning to his chair with a thud.

“Ha, I truly did not foresee this. Looks like I needlessly stirred up trouble.”

“Enough prattle. The answer?”

Enoch pressed once more. Orban tilted his chin, replying with a nonchalant air.

“Fine. I’ll gladly accept your little drug investigation, whatever. But not right now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Can’t you see? I’m dreadfully busy at the moment.”

He gestured, indicating his surroundings.

Only then did the group fully grasp the sheer volume of treasure amassed around Orban.

Gold coins, jewels, high-grade magical artifacts, priceless works of art. A veritable mountain of wealth.

And Orban sat enthroned amidst it all.

“The Magus Towers must have caught on. I am on the cusp of advancing to the Boundary Class. What I require is neither potent mana, nor overwhelming magical talent.”

He tapped a treasure with his finger.

“It is wealth and worth, pure and simple. For that is the ultimate essence of gold.”

Orban smirked. Even as he spoke, the accumulating riches continued to swell. The Magus Tower executives sighed deeply at the spectacle.

“Damn it. This is getting troublesome.”

“If that one reaches the Boundary Class, he’ll be a pain to control from now on.”

Jane and Vergo grumbled, their faces contorted in displeasure.

They did not voice that Orban’s words were impossible. They had sensed it ever since reaching the uppermost floors. His words, they truly could come to fruition.

Enoch felt the same. Without a word, he drew a pistol from within his coat. And aimed.

-Click!

The trigger was pulled.

-Bang!

The gunshot echoed.

However.

The bullet hung, suspended before Orban’s very nose.

“What in the world is this?”

Jane narrowed her eyes. The bullet, frozen in the air, trembled subtly.

Orban chuckled, observing it.

“This bullet…”

He reached out, flicking a finger against the bullet suspended in the air.

“The price… about 3200 krones per piece, I’d wager. Not bad at all. Must be using some expensive firearms, eh?”

“……”

“Now, this is mine. Put it to good use.”

The bullet vanished just like that. Drawn into the hoard within Orban’s magic.

This, indeed, was Orban’s magic. Anything possessing value could never escape his avarice.

“Tch. This won’t do.”

“We must disrupt his consciousness. If a rogue like him crosses over to the Threshold, the damage won’t be limited to the city; it will spread across the entire continent.”

Nordila analyzed the situation swiftly.

What was unfolding in Novaris now was a microcosm of what was to come.

Orban’s magic – manipulating wealth, value, and property.

If he reached the Threshold, he would hold the economy of the entire continent hostage, not just the city.

He’d surely be drunk on power, running wild like a bare-assed madman. Absolutely couldn’t let that happen.

“We need to shake his mind. Only then will he stop.”

“Then I guess we just charge in, huh?”

Bergo drew his sword. Jane, too, prepared her magic.

At that moment. Enoch stepped forward again.

-Thump, Thump

“…Enoch?”

“Everyone, calm yourselves. I have a better plan.”

“A better plan? What is it?”

Jane tilted her head, questioning.

Enoch, as if to demonstrate, addressed Orban.

“Hey, Orban.”

“…? What is it. I’ll tell you in advance, nothing you say can possibly shake my resolve –”

“Your slush fund.”

“!”

In that instant, Orban’s eyes widened.

“…What did you just say?”

“Your slush fund, I said. I hear the vault’s been hit a few times already. Catch the culprit yet?”

“…That-“

“I wouldn’t have been caught, would I? If I had, I wouldn’t be standing here like this.”

“…? Hold on, what does that signify?”

What in the world was that b*stard saying? Orban’s eyes narrowed, conveying exactly that question.

Enoch, pleased with the reaction, pointed a finger at himself.

“No use hiding it now. I’m the culprit.”

“…!”

“The one who pilfered your slush fund is right here, Orban.”