Time slipped away like an arrow loosed from the bow.
Through nearly a thousand sunrises and sunsets, Rhodes had lived out his eighteenth cycle of spring, summer, autumn, and winter within the Clock Tower.
August of 1998 was not yet autumn, but the air had begun to cool. For magi, however, this month carried a different weight altogether.
The Clock Tower upheld a system known as rank assessment. Once a year, ranks were evaluated. Lower tiers—"Frame," "Count," even "Cause"—could be granted directly by higher-ranked magi. But once one reached "Pride," "Brand," or the absurdly exalted "Grand," the matter required a comprehensive assessment by the Clock Tower itself. It was a measure of a magus' worth, and a reminder of the Clock Tower's authority.
This August followed the same pattern. Rank assessments commenced, and a paper bearing a name both familiar and unfamiliar was placed onto the desks of lecturers and Lords alike—landing there with the subtlety of a hammer to the face, leaving them uncertain how to judge it.
At the very heart of the Clock Tower, within the clock spire that served as both council chamber and symbol, the Twelve Lords gathered alongside Barthomeloi, head of the Department of Law. The subject of their discussion was a paper destined to reshape the history of magecraft.
"This should belong to your Department of Spiritual Evocation, should it not?" Barthomeloi said coolly. "Why was it submitted by Lord Inorai's proxy instead? That goes against convention, Miss Sophia-Ri."
The speaker was the head of Barthomeloi. At this time, the imperious Lorelei had not yet assumed leadership, but her predecessor's disdain was much the same.
"The scope of this paper spans multiple disciplines," Sophia-Ri replied evenly. "Having it submitted by Mr. Rhodes' acting mentor, Lady Inorai Valualeta Atroholm, seemed the fairest course."
Her tone was calm, neither servile nor defiant. Barthomeloi was powerful, a paragon among nobles, but to someone of Sophia-Ri's standing, he was hardly untouchable.
"Hmph. An interesting justification." Barthomeloi flipped through the thick manuscript, then let out a cold chuckle as he read the title.
"On the Method of Allowing Heroic Spirits to Persist Indefinitely in the World? Such idiocy, so detached from reality—and you dared bring it before us? Is this preferential treatment for your student, Lady Inorai? I want an explanation."
"Oh?" The old woman seated at the ninth position of the round table spoke, her voice stern. "An explanation? I fear you'll be disappointed. Perhaps you should actually study the paper before deciding whether my apprentice is chasing hollow fame, Mr. Barthomeloi."
"You—"
The Lord of the Department of Law bristled. He had not expected open defiance. Then he noticed the expressions around the table.
Amused smiles.
A chill crept up his spine.
—Was it possible this paper was not mere fantasy?
If it could truly be realized, then Rhodes' rank assessment might reach Grand. He might even be awarded one of the Three Primary Colors, the highest of honors.
Barthomeloi's face drained of color.
"Th-this…" he murmured, hesitation creeping in.
At that moment, the blonde young lady seated at the fourth position spoke.
"In the name and honor of House El-Melloi, I formally nominate Mr. Rhodes for promotion to Brand," she said. "Furthermore, I recommend he inherit the Yellow of the Three Primary Colors, with the title Radiant Gold. What say you all?"
Reines' tone left no room for doubt. It sounded less like a proposal and more like a statement of fact. One by one, the Lords responded with visible approval.
"I second the motion. Lord Rhodes is still too young to shoulder Grand, but Brand—and even the Three Primary Colors—are well within reason," said the Lord of the Department of Zoology.
Beside him, Yumina, Lord of the Department of Botany, nodded in agreement.
"In terms of achievement, Mr. Rhodes may not be without precedent. But his willingness to share magecraft knowledge with us all merits such an honor."
"You… you all…"
Barthomeloi realized too late that the decision had long been settled. No matter how fiercely he objected, he could not oppose the collective will of the Clock Tower's highest authorities.
◇◇◇
The afterglow of sunset faded from the sky.
Rhodes had been officially assessed as Brand and granted the title Radiant Gold. The entire Clock Tower buzzed with the news.
Yet Rhodes himself, ever the methodical academy-trained Arcanist, remained crouched in his workshop, tinkering with the steel monstrosities before him.
One of them was a brand-new F-15 fighter jet, manufactured by Boeing in the United States. Acquiring such a thing had only been possible thanks to Van-Fem's formidable status and unfathomable wealth.
Meanwhile, the destroyer Yuudachi Kai Ni he had prepared earlier had already arrived off the eastern coast of England. It lay hidden within a military harbor, undergoing synchronization tests for its unique power core and Faerûn-produced levitation rings.
As for the F-15, Rhodes intended to refit it into something resembling the Muramasa series mass-production units from Gundam SEED, granting it capabilities for high-altitude bombardment and airborne deployment.
Clearly, that plan had failed.
The intricate runes etched along the wings dimmed one by one. Arcane Magic dispersed from the enchanted metal, and as the mana destabilized, the aircraft's components tore themselves apart. A fighter jet worth hundreds of thousands of dollars was reduced to scrap.
"What a waste…" Rhodes muttered.
Still, he strode toward a nearby light armored vehicle without hesitation. Titles like Brand and Radiant Gold were impressive, but they were hardly edible.
In one corner of the workshop, several enormous silhouettes stood in silence.
Those were Rhodes' true instruments of power.
Golems—not human-sized constructs, but massive, steel-built engines of war.
A six-meter-tall Steel Golem. A Shadowsteel Golem sheathed in blackened metal. A Mithral Golem forged from costly Mithral Alloy.
Each war golem stood motionless, metal shells reflecting a cold, lethal gleam. Simply placing these behemoths on a battlefield would crush an enemy's will.
Yet in Rhodes' eyes, these golems—developed using Netheril techniques—were still inferior to a properly modified modern armored force.
After all—
Giant robots were a man's true dream.