SSS-Class Overlord: My Harem Rules the Realms (18+) -
Chapter 35: Fire Tower Master AND Ice Tower Master?
Chapter 35: Fire Tower Master AND Ice Tower Master?
Velexaria strode across the shimmering marble floor of the Imperial Mage Assembly, her dark
robes fanning out like liquid shadows. Her eyes glittered with a faint challenge as she regarded
the two towers already present.
A smirk curled her lips. "So... are we third to arrive?"
A deep laugh rumbled from the front of the Fire Tower’s ranks.
"Yes, you are," came the booming reply.
The speaker stepped forward—a towering man whose mere presence seemed to radiate heat. He
stood well over six and a half feet tall, built like a fortress of stone and muscle. Broad shoulders
strained the seams of his crimson mage’s robe, which was embroidered with roaring golden
flames. His hair fell in thick maroon waves past his shoulders, catching sparks of the chandelier
light as though embers lived within the strands. Beneath heavy brows, eyes the color of molten
gold blazed with a restless energy.
"Inferax Blazegale," Velexaria said smoothly, inclining her head with the faintest mockery. "I see
the Fire Tower has kept you fed."
Inferax barked a laugh, his deep voice echoing through the chamber. "Ah, Velexaria Duskvale.
Ever the sharp tongue. Don’t worry—I’ve left some scraps for your darklings to play with."
Kaeron’s lip twitched in amusement. "Scraps. Right."
Next to Inferax, the Ice Mage Tower stood in cool silence. Their robes were pale as snowfall,
shimmering faintly with a crystalline sheen. The man at their head regarded Velexaria through eyes
like frozen seas—deep blue, rimmed in white frost.
He was handsome in a statuesque, austere way. White hair fell across his forehead in elegant,
silky strands. His build was lean yet undeniably athletic, suggesting the discipline of both a
scholar and a swordsman. His jaw was square, lips set in a faint line of disdain. He did not speak
—merely made a faint sound in his throat, almost a dismissive "Hmm."
Velexaria tilted her head, feigning curiosity. "Still conserving your words, Frosthaven?"
Frosthaven gave the smallest of nods, as if speaking would waste precious breath.
Ethan watched the three masters, eyes flicking from Inferax’s towering bulk to Frosthaven’s cold
elegance to Velexaria’s poised shadows. His pulse quickened.
Standing here felt surreal. These were legends—mages whose exploits were whispered in
taverns, chronicled in grimoires, and invoked as cautionary tales for young apprentices.
A smirk tugged at Ethan’s mouth. So this is what it feels like... to be among giants. Good. Let me
learn from them—and steal a trick or two if I can.
One by one, the three Tower Masters moved toward the dais at the front of the assembly hall,
where elaborate high-backed chairs awaited them in a crescent arc. Each chair bore runes
representing its respective tower.
Velexaria settled into the obsidian seat etched with crimson sigils, crossing her legs gracefully.
Her black robes flowed around her like a pool of ink. Kaeron and Lysena took up positions behind
her, and Ethan fell in beside them.
Behind the Fire Tower’s seat, Inferax’s contingent gathered—a wall of brawny, red-clad mages
crackling with heat. Behind Frosthaven, the Ice Tower’s disciples moved like silent ghosts, pale
eyes sweeping the hall for threats.
A hush fell as courtiers, scribes, and lower-ranked mages bustled around, arranging documents,
crystal globes, and enchanted quills in preparation for the summit’s proceedings.
Lysena nudged Ethan lightly with her elbow. "Hey. Look over there."
Ethan followed her gaze—and froze.
Emerging from the Fire Tower’s ranks came two figures who immediately drew the room’s eyes.
The first was a young man built like a siege engine. Easily over six feet tall, he had a square jaw, a
sharp nose, and shoulders broad enough to block half a doorway. His crimson robe was
sleeveless to show off arms thick with corded muscle. Flames seemed to dance along his skin, as
though his body heat alone might set the floor ablaze. His expression was that of pure enthusiasm
—as if hoping the summit would erupt into a brawl at any moment.
Kaeron let out a faint sigh. "Musclehead," he muttered. "Every generation has one."
But it was the second figure who seized Ethan’s attention.
She stepped forward with the measured grace of nobility. Her crimson mage’s robe was cut to
flatter her curves—nipped at the waist, hugging the gentle swell of her hips, and flowing in elegant
folds around her legs. The neckline hinted at smooth, pale skin without venturing into scandal,
and delicate gold chains gleamed along the edges of her sleeves and bodice.
Her long black hair, glossy as onyx, was swept into an intricate braid that coiled over one
shoulder, interwoven with tiny ruby charms that caught the light like droplets of blood. Her eyes, a
stunning shade of deep violet, glimmered beneath dark lashes. They were intelligent eyes—sharp,
assessing, yet hiding secrets behind a languid half-lidded gaze. Her lips were full and tinted with a
faint red gloss that caught the light every time she shifted her mouth in a subtle smirk.
Even in a hall filled with mages of great lineage, she seemed to glow, as though she belonged on
a throne rather than merely standing beside it.
A ripple of whispers shivered through the nearby onlookers.
Lysena leaned closer to Ethan, murmuring, "That’s Seraphine Blazegale. Inferax’s niece. She’s Fire
Tower’s star prodigy. Don’t underestimate her. She’s dangerous in more ways than one."
Ethan tilted his head, studying Seraphine with a faintly wolfish grin. "I’ll keep that in mind." His
eyes lingered a beat longer than strictly necessary on the way the fabric of her robe molded to her
curves when she shifted her weight.
Lysena rolled her eyes. "Focus, Ethan."
"I am focused." Ethan leaned closer, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Don’t worry.
I’ve got everything under control."
Lysena raised a skeptical brow. "That’s what I’m afraid of."
Inferax, from his towering vantage point, gestured sharply to Seraphine and the muscle-bound
youth. "Meet our next champions. Seraphine, who’s already cracked the Fifth Circle before her
twentieth year. And this here is Dragan. Strong enough to punch holes in rock. If not the brightest
torch in the hall."
Dragan grinned, flexing a bicep that looked big enough to have its own gravity field. "Heh. Rocks
break good."
Velexaria’s lips twitched in dry amusement. "Charming."
Frosthaven merely gave another quiet, frosty "Hmm," his gaze flicking briefly over Seraphine
before returning to Velexaria.
Slowly, the enormous assembly hall began to fill. Robes of different hues—emerald for the Earth
Tower, brilliant yellow for the Thunder Tower, pristine silver for the Light Tower—appeared in
clusters, each led by mages with an air of commanding power.
One by one, the final three Tower Masters arrived, ascending the dais to claim their seats.
When the last chair was filled, a hush spread across the grand chamber like a ripple of silk.
Magical runes along the walls flared into life, casting shifting patterns of light across marble floors.
Kaeron leaned in, voice low and edged with humor. "Now the real fun begins."
Ethan crossed his arms, grinning as he scanned the hall, lingering for a heartbeat on Seraphine’s
violet eyes.
Good. Let’s see what the legends have to teach me... and what I can steal while they’re not
looking.
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