The Clock Tower, headquarters of the Mage's Association, was the gathering place of noble magi families who controlled half the world. They manipulated politics through Magecraft, and swayed public opinion through social means—all to conceal the very existence of Magecraft itself.
For these nobles, the purity of bloodlines was paramount. With the violent death of Director Kenneth, the Archibald family that bore the name "El-Melloi" had clearly fallen into a state of chaos—headless, with its prestige and influence struck a grievous blow.
Thus, the Archibalds had to elect a new family head as quickly as possible, to keep this massive machine moving forward and to maintain their standing within the Clock Tower.
And now, aside from Reines, there were plenty of other candidates within the Archibald line. Each schemed against the other, trying to exclude rivals—or even assassinate them outright.
"So that bastard Rhodes said he'd clear the path for me, but all he sent were you guys? Even if he's busy, what about his Dolls?!"
The blonde, flat-chested little lady named Reines roared, looking every inch the picture of a dictator in mid-tirade.
Standing before her were twelve mercenaries clad in Kevlar vests. They reeked of battle, every one of them like a warhound, utterly out of place beside an elegant noble.
"You're Lady Reines? If you don't want our protection, you can take it up with Rhodes directly. We're just hired help."
The speaker was a petite girl with long flaxen hair. She called herself "Holo," commander of the mercenaries. Yet Reines couldn't sense the slightest trace of mana from her.
In other words, they were all ordinary humans. Mortals with no connection whatsoever to Mystery. How could such people possibly stand against magi?
Reines thought as much, veins pulsing on her forehead, seething at what she saw as Rhodes's perfunctory treatment.
"What the hell is that bastard thinking, palming me off like this…" she muttered irritably—never noticing the glint of danger flickering in Holo's eyes.
"Lady Reines, complaints won't help you now," Holo said softly. "Your 'guests' are here. Unless you drive them away, well… I don't need to explain what'll happen to you."
"Damn mercenaries! Threatening me now?!" Reines snapped, but faced with the situation, she still made her way outside.
Beyond the manor, over a dozen finely dressed nobles mingled, wearing mocking smiles. Each was a notable figure in their own right, representing one of the Archibald branch families.
United here and now, their purpose was clear: eliminate Reines, the greatest threat among them.
Whether in conduct or in magical cultivation, none of them came close to matching her. Unless Reines was removed, their chances of claiming the title of family head were slim.
"Lady Reines." The foremost noble, clad in a deep-blue suit, inclined his head. His body glittered with ornaments, his fingers heavy with jeweled rings—all Mystic Codes, symbols of power and authority. "I suggest you withdraw from the succession."
His tone was elegant, yet his words slithered like a serpent tasting the air.
There was no doubt what lay behind them. If Reines refused, she'd be beaten down by dozens of magi at once. If she agreed, she'd be branded a coward and lose her claim forever.
Neither was acceptable. But the weaklings of the Archisorte branch had already scurried into hiding, leaving Reines to face the wolves alone.
Yet she had overlooked her greatest support.
"So these are the clowns, huh? Let's wrap this up quick." A mocking voice came from Reines' side, followed by Holo's flat command: "Sniper. Drop him."
Bang!
The sound of a watermelon bursting echoed at the gates. The arrogant magus's head exploded, reduced to nothing but a spreading pool of blood.
"Impossible…" The assembled magi scrambled for cover, activating their Mystic Codes, desperately trying to escape the sniper's scope.
But how could sheltered weaklings, untouched by real battle, grasp the power of war machines?
"Pick up your weapons! Show those fools at the Clock Tower who really holds the power to change the world!" Holo's voice rang out.
One by one, black gun barrels swung into view, leveled at the nobles.
With mercenaries grinning viciously, M61 Vulcan aircraft cannons locked onto the magi. At Holo's order, the mercenaries pulled the triggers without hesitation.
"Vrrrmmm—BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!"
Explosions and fire lit up every corner. Under the merciless crossfire, all their elegance and authority meant nothing.
This was the crushing of the old by the new—
A true revolution in the history of Magecraft.
◇◇◇
While Reines was drowning in chaos, Rhodes was far away, accompanied by his maids, arriving at an island nation in the South Pacific.
The Solomon Islands. A name brimming with grandeur, yet in reality a thoroughly underdeveloped country. Its people were mostly Black, converts to the Cross, though many old customs lingered.
The waters were crystal clear, the sands golden, yet few tourists came here—only scuba divers truly knew the place.
As his private jet touched down, two neat rows of sixteen maids stepped elegantly from the cabin, lining up to welcome the great Archmage in his extravagance.
Every one of them was a Golem—"autonomous Automatons." Their bodies surpassed human limits, flawless skin paired with waspish waists and voluptuous curves. Yet those same arms could hurl a car, and each one was well-versed in firearms, with the training of elite soldiers.
And now, they stood only to greet their master, the one who had given them life.
"Phew… the stench of the sea is unbearable." Looking no older than fifteen or sixteen, Rhodes stepped off the plane. Gazing out at the deep-blue ocean beyond the private airstrip, he allowed himself a faint smile.
"My Ship Girls and aerial warships—your master has arrived."