One day after the dungeon ended, the team returned to the academy.
No missions. No mandatory training. Just waiting for classes to resume… and a comforting calm.
Kim Suho, however, did not wait.
He left alone.
His destination was the Arkan Empire—the heart of magic on the continent—and his goal had been clear from the very first moment:
The Black Magic Tower in the Floating Magic City.
The Floating Magic City
When Suho reached the location… he stopped.
Not because the road had ended, but because the world before him had changed.
A massive city stretched along the coast;
part of it embraced the shoreline,
while another part climbed colossal rocky hills as if it had been born from them.
But what lay above…
That was what slowed his breathing.
Enormous chunks of solid land floated in the sky—not small rocks or temporary platforms, but entire lands, rooted with towering buildings, spires, domes, and bridges made of magical light.
The sky itself seemed layered.
Visible mana flowed like currents,
and flying ships passed through them in calm, steady routes.
A sight…
majestic, beautiful,
and impossible to describe without the description feeling incomplete.
Suho entered the floating city.
His goal was not the markets, nor magical spectacles.
He had only one destination.
The Black Magic Tower.
The Black Magic Tower – Unexpected Comedy
The tower was… different.
No blood.
No bones.
No suspicious rituals lurking in corners.
Instead, there were clean corridors, organized halls, and mages moving with confidence.
Black magic here was not "filthy" as monster tales described it.
Some mages appeared refined—calm, elegant, mysterious.
Others… spoke to themselves, laughed suddenly, or stared at walls for long stretches of time.
Yet everything was legal.
Licensed.
Registered with the imperial administration.
"Logical…"
Suho murmured.
"Madness doesn't always mean chaos."
Then he entered the library.
…
And got lost.
Endless corridors.
Shelves taller than buildings.
Signposts filled with terminology only someone who had studied magic for thirty years could understand.
Every ten minutes, Suho would stop, look left and right, then turn—only to find himself near the starting point again.
At one point, he asked a moving statue for directions.
The statue stared at him and said:
"Do you mean practical black magic? Theoretical? Existential? Philosophical? Or—"
Suho walked away.
After hours—no one knows how—he finally stood before a massive book:
(Fundamentals of Black Magic and Fifth-Star Spells)
The title was clear, direct, and tempting.
The book explained:
The foundations of black magic
How to darken mana
(which Suho didn't need… his mana transformed naturally)
Spells up to the fifth circle
He went to the librarian.
They talked. Argued. And somehow, Suho convinced him.
How?
No one knows.
Even the librarian himself didn't seem sure why he said "yes."
Suho left the city after a full day—
entered without membership,
and borrowed a book that was never meant to be borrowed.
Luck was generous… suspiciously so.
On the Road Back
On his way back to the tower he came from, Suho passed through a quiet forest.
Dense trees.
Dim sunlight.
And the sound of screaming.
Bandits.
Surrounding a group of travelers.
Villagers… simple people.
Cheap clothes. Tired faces. Nothing worth stealing.
Then Suho saw what ignited his anger.
The knives were not used for threats.
They were used for killing.
The unarmed fell one by one.
Suho moved.
No hesitation. No thought.
This time was different.
He was no longer someone who feared killing.
Because the reason was clear.
These people… deserved it.
It ended quickly.
A heavy silence followed.
He saved those who remained:
the elderly, women, children.
People who were nothing more than a family moving to another village.
In the silence…
Suho heard crying.
A child.
He approached.
Beside the bodies of a man and a woman…
a small girl sat, crying bitterly.
She didn't understand anything.
Her eyes were red from weeping.
Her hands clutched clothes that would never move again.
Three years old… maybe less.
Suho looked at her.
A weight appeared on his face—one that hadn't been there minutes ago.
Deep thought…
as if an old memory had risen from somewhere he never wanted to open.
The Village
He escorted them until they reached their new fief.
A simple rural barony.
Clean air.
Green fields.
Far from towers, wars, and grand farces.
They buried the dead.
Suho stood in silence.
He asked the survivors:
"Where is the rest of the girl's family?"
An old man answered in a hoarse voice:
"She has no one."
Suho fell silent.
He sank into thought, clearly visible on his face.
The village was quiet.
Beautiful.
But injustice… had reached it too.
And so…
the day ended.
Not with victory.
Not with relief.
Only a city floating in the sky…
and a child who did not understand why her parents would never wake up.