"I Became a Witch, but Now Everyone's in Love with Me!"

Chapter 81: Mage Tower Assessment
 
“Welcome to my wizard tower, travelers from nowhere.”

When the ancient door groaned open and the last of their party stepped across the threshold, a voice descended from the high stone walls—a mature, sultry timbre, tinged with the faint elegance of a royal sister. Though there was a smile in her tone, beneath it lingered an undeniable loneliness, echoing in the dead silence of the Mage Tower.
Jiang Cha’s pupils contracted. She knew at once what it meant.
The owner ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) of that voice was already dead.

It was not something conveyed by sound itself, but a truth her body instinctively recognized—an arcane feedback that carried with it the sterile chill of magic stripped of vitality. The resonance had no source, no replenishment, no heartbeat of mana. Only an echo without life.
“Careful,” Jiang Cha murmured, her voice low but steady. “The owner here might be stronger than we imagined.”
Daisy inclined her head. Her innate magic wasn’t as sharp as Jiang Cha’s when it came to parsing arcane residue, but she was still a Great Witch—her instincts could not be ignored.

“What are you whispering about, latecomers?”
The disembodied voice continued, carrying through the vast chamber like the sigh of a ghost.
“What became of our world? How have you reached me? Through a buried ruin beneath the earth? A drifting tower lost within the narrow space between realms?”
A pause. Then, almost wistfully:

“Or… have you finally proven the existence of the border between worlds?”
“Well. It matters not. At least you are children of the arcane. That alone qualifies you to inherit the test I have left behind—and the knowledge within these walls.”
No one answered. There was no need. This was nothing more than a recording.

And yet, the implications in her words made the witches’ skin prickle.
“…Can I apply to withdraw?” Jiang Cha muttered, shoulders sagging in mock defeat. She glanced over at Daisy, her gaze flicking toward the heavy doors behind them, still ajar.
It wasn’t a real request, more an appeal to her employer’s judgment. Because by now, it was clear—the owner of this tower was not some ordinary elven arcanist of another realm, as they’d assumed.

The very mention of narrow space shattered that notion.
That was no casual term. It had been defined billions of years ago by the United Association of Interworld Civilizations—a coalition long since dissolved, its name eroded by time. Yet the phrase endured, passed down only among civilizations that had ascended to a certain height.
Unless it was some cosmic coincidence, this meant the tower’s master hailed from nothing less than a sage-level civilization. One that possessed sage-tier combatants.

By that logic, the danger rating of this ruin had just spiked into the red.
“Riches and honor come hand in hand with risk,” Daisy said calmly. “My dear, this is only the tower of a master long gone.”
“Fine, fine. You’re the boss.” Jiang Cha exhaled, shoulders rising and falling before she raised her hand. A beam of pure arcane light shot forth, striking an intricate seam in the wall. Metal clicked and shifted in response—the hidden mechanism she’d already detected.

“Oh… your attainments are not shallow. At least you are not those crude arcane barbarians.”
The voice spoke again, this time with a faint note of surprise.
“Then let the assessment begin.”

“I care not who you are, nor what race you belong to. But I would see for myself whether my successor can understand.”
The words seemed to bend with uncanny nuance, as though the speaker were watching them directly from some unseen perch.
But Jiang Cha knew better. This was simply the craft of magic. Whether it was [Transmission of All Things], which allowed seamless communication, or [Arcane Clone], which shaped recordings to respond like living beings—these were but fragments of the profound mysteries of the arcane.
“Inviting you along was the wisest choice this dumb captain has made all year,” Misa muttered, arms folded. “These elf spellcasters love their puzzles too much. I’d have been stuck at the door forever.”

If Jiang Cha hadn’t been here, brute force demolition might have been their only option.
“I have to be worth my salary, Sister,” Jiang Cha replied lightly, waiting as the gears clattered and ground into their new positions. Once the path cleared, she stepped forward into the first chamber.
“No spatial distortions. The master here was merciful,” Daisy observed with a wry smile.

Kelly, trailing behind, rolled her eyes.
Jiang Cha caught the motion—perhaps a bit too directly. It wasn’t subtle. The disdain wasn’t for Daisy, but for their “unlearned” captain.
“The truth is,” Jiang Cha explained, tilting her head, “most arcane spatial magic drains absurd amounts of mana. And the tower’s core supply has long since collapsed. Aside from backup reserves, everything you see is running on my own energy—and I’m not exactly a fountain.”

“Then let’s move,” Daisy said, voice crisp.
“Yes, yes~” Jiang Cha hummed.
Truthfully, Daisy could have ordered her to cut the energy feed entirely and dismantle the structure piece by piece. If they gambled that the tower had no self-destruct—or lacked the mana to fuel one—they might claim everything in a fraction of the time.

But Daisy wasn’t the gambling sort, not with their very first harvest at stake. Other adventurers might embrace such recklessness, but she would not.
“The first trial,” Jiang Cha murmured, eyes sweeping the chamber.
It was deceptively simple. A series of questions. Arcane questions—yet broad in scope, touching on countless facets of magical common sense.

Difficult for some civilizations, perhaps. For those whose arcane development had stalled, even “basic” problems might be insurmountable. Like handing modern high school physics to scholars of the ancient world—no matter how brilliant, they could not leap beyond the limits of their age.
But for the witches, whose civilization had already surpassed and reshaped the arcane school itself, this was child’s play. The knowledge tested here was nothing more than foundational education for their apprentices.
No—the true prize lay elsewhere. Not in old formulas or rote questions, but in the master’s unique interpretations, in the culture of his civilization, in rare spells, or forgotten magical materials.

“…Do you truly need my legacy?” the voice returned, tinged with doubt. “For a civilization that has walked so far beyond the arcane, my work must seem… paltry.”
A pause. Then, softer:
“Very well. If you insist, then carry it on. Continue.”

“The second trial is different. A unique arcane puzzle—the riddle that tormented me even unto death.”
“If you are a master of the arcane, then aid this poor elf in finding her answer. If you are but an apprentice, then show me your understanding all the same. Fear not—I will judge with fairness.”
The words faded.

And Jiang Cha’s gaze lifted to the question before them.
Her expression twisted. Not with confusion, but with something stranger.