[Creating Academy City had long been part of your plan—ever since you developed Mental Magecraft and the Book of Law.]
[Your Magecraft system, fusing Miracle and Mystery, was rejected by both the Church and the Mage's Association. You needed a sanctuary to preserve your knowledge.]
[So you stored everything you had ever learned in Academy City.]
[A total of 103,000 tomes.]
[There, you and Anastasia held your long-promised wedding. The only guests were the other three imperial princesses—the city's only other inhabitants.]
[It was 1918. You were twenty-three. Anastasia, nineteen.]
[That night was beautiful.]
[Your days settled into a rhythm of Magecraft and travel between Fuyuki and Academy City. Life was peaceful, warm, and fulfilling.]
[Yes, your life—with the four princesses.]
[In 1927, the ambitious ruler of the Far East began to hint at expansion and conquest.]
[You attempted an assassination shrouded in Mystery—but were thwarted by an external force: the Counter Force, preserving humanity's path.]
[But you didn't give up.]
[In 1928, you organized a military coup from within—but again failed.]
[In 1930, 1932, 1936... you moved between the surface world and the Reverse Side of the Far East, trying everything to stop war—but the inevitable came.]
[1937. After two decades of peace following World War I, the Second World War erupted.]
[Amidst it all, you even missed the Holy Grail War.]
["Damn Counter Force," you muttered.]
[But your efforts weren't in vain. The Counter Force had turned its gaze on you. Behind the scenes, you used Academy City to cultivate resistance and leak Far Eastern plots to the world.]
[Though war still broke out, your warnings spared many lives.]
[You did all you could.]
[The war ended swiftly.]
[1945. The Far East surrendered. World War II concluded. You received word that both the Church and Mage's Association had joined the fray, taking down the war's instigator and signing a non-aggression pact.]
[Peace returned.]
[You resumed your studies in Magecraft and Mystery, always improving.]
[As old age approached, you were occasionally visited by enforcers and agents.]
[They came for you—but all were sent away.]
[You had created Academy City—but never accepted students. Instead, you subtly drew visiting magi into its boundaries, imprinting their minds with Mental Magecraft. They became anchors.]
[Academy City was a sanctuary of the mind. That was your creed.]
[By 1971, you were seventy-six. Though you still looked young, you were aging. You never used forbidden means to extend your life—only retained your youthful appearance.]
[Life, you believed, should have a beginning and an end—even if simulated.]
[You would die as a man. Like King Solomon, the Magus of Magi.]
[Anastasia, still youthful thanks to her Spirit contract, stayed by your side. Her sisters had passed, their eternal forms now sealed in the depths of Academy City.]
[In the end...]
[You fell asleep in Anastasia's arms.]
[Before drifting off, you recalled the orphanage's basement, Nicholas II's Kremlin, and that first meeting with a certain girl.]
[You whispered, "I hope we meet again."]
[Anastasia smiled.]
["Next time, I'll definitely get the better of you."]
[With the falling cherry blossoms, you passed—at the edge of the Far East, in April.]
[Aged seventy-six.]
[In 1971, the Astronomy Department of the Clock Tower observed a stellar shift. Their leader confirmed the signs of death belonging to Lucan Luvist—once hunted by both Church and Association.]
[In his youth, he had challenged both powers alone. In his final years, he faded into obscurity. After his death, the Association didn't retract its charges—but did acknowledge his contributions.]
[In 1973, the discovery of the Book of Law among the ruins of a palace by the Astronomy Lord silenced all doubt.]
[His crimes were real—but so were his achievements.]
[The most feared man.]
[But also—a fearless explorer of Mystery.]
—Clock Tower Chronicles
1993, London.
At the Clock Tower's dormitories, dawn broke. Lucan opened his eyes beside the window.
He felt like he'd dreamed.
A dream so real it seemed to span seventy-six years.
In it, he had lived, loved, and died peacefully. But in the waking world—only one night had passed.
Sunlight pierced the clouds, striking the eyes of the seventeen-year-old boy.
He blinked hard. The memories of those seventy-six years surged, then receded—lodging deep in his consciousness like a sealed book.
They would return when summoned.
But otherwise, he was still himself.
"Convenient simulator," Lucan mused. "No risk of mental burnout that way."
Then, new information flooded his brain.
Just like the first time he activated the simulator.
Only faster.
More intense.
And this time—something else awakened within.
[Simulation complete.]
[Processing outcome...]
[Summary: Born in 1895, you began life as a commoner taken in by a monastery. A chance encounter with Mystery led you to legend. Worshiped by many, feared by more, you were called angel and demon both. But regardless of judgment—you carved your own divine path.]
[You did all you could in your era. Had you been born in another time—your achievements might have reached even greater heights.]
[Final Rating: S (limited slightly by era)]
[Inherited Crest: Mental Magecraft]
[Inherited Circuits: 46 lines (23 + 23)]
[Default Activation: Confirmed]
Lucan skimmed the results.
Then paused.
"Default activation?"
Everyone knew...
Newly awakened magi always risked magical surges and internal backlashes.
A split second later—
Boom!
The entire barrier of his workshop, his carefully arranged magecraft defenses, shattered.
Glass exploded from the windows.
Dust filled the air.
Someone knocked urgently at the door—
"Hey! Lucan, are you okay?! What the hell are you doing in there this early?!"
It was Waver Velvet's voice, anxious and confused!