Chapter 150: Internal Management (2)
Carisia’s proposal was straightforward.
“The issue is convincing people why we need to fight the Ten Towers, correct? Then let’s give them a cause they can believe in.”
When people thought of a conflict with the Ten Towers, Argyrion naturally came to mind. I was about to voice the common-sense rebuttal—that our employees didn’t aspire to be labeled terrorists—when Carisia interrupted.
“Succession War.”
“…Are you serious?”
Carisia’s declaration that she intended to claim White Light for herself was shocking. She had always harbored boundless hatred for the Ten Commandments of White Light, so much so that possessing it had never been on the table.
“Of course, I have no intention of actually keeping White Light,” she clarified. “I’m still dead set on destroying it. But think about it.”
Couldn’t we leverage the pretense of wanting to claim White Light as a righteous cause?
Her tone was soft, almost a whisper, as if weaving a spell.
“It’s easier for the executives to believe I want to claim White Light rather than destroy it outright. Once I officially take ownership, I could obliterate it without interference.”
And after White Light’s destruction was complete, Carisia wouldn’t need Hydra Corporation anymore. Even if the remaining nine towers declared her the world’s enemy, she could simply vanish.
“The idea of using a succession war to frame the situation is compelling,” I conceded. “But there’s a problem.”
“The Mage King,” Carisia replied immediately.
I nodded. Destroying the Ten Commandments before the Mage King’s resurrection would undoubtedly complicate his attempts to ascend.
In the original story, the Mage King had sought to reclaim the Ten Commandments’ authority for his rebirth. But whether nine remaining towers could defeat the Mage King was another question entirely.
Above all…
I was beginning to doubt whether the story’s depiction of the Mage King was accurate. The Mage King in the original novel was an overwhelming yet cunning antagonist—but still the “main character” in his narrative.
There was no mention of century-spanning schemes like the mind-parasite’s plan to annihilate the Divine Cult.
His actions outside the story… the sheer determination I can only observe here, send chills down my spine.
The parasite was likely meant to serve as a sacrifice for the Mage King’s revival, so it wouldn’t be surprising if the timeline for his resurrection was delayed now. But how many alternative methods did he still have at his disposal?
When I looked up, Carisia was watching me.
“What are you thinking so deeply about?”
“It’s an extension of our conversation. The Mage King.”
***
Carisia’s mind raced. From the moment Orthes guided her to the Phoibos Temple, she had sensed something strange.
Orthes was uncharacteristically focused on the Mage King.
If his assumptions were correct, the parasite—a crucial component for the Mage King’s revival—had been destroyed by Carisia’s mana bomb. Yet Orthes’ wariness remained undiminished.
Even with the early warning system crafted from Adoosiam’s remnants, his unease lingered. He carried an ironic certainty: without the Ten Commandments united, the Mage King could not be opposed.
If that’s the case…
Carisia decided to change her perspective.
“Let’s postpone destroying White Light.”
“Postpone?” I asked.
“Why not aim to destroy all the Ten Commandments?”
“What?”
Orthes’ confusion was evident. Carisia began outlining her new plan, seemingly impromptu but with unmistakable conviction.
“If we take down one tower while preserving the Artificial Commandments, we can theoretically wield the power of two Commandments against the next tower.”
And with each subsequent victory, the balance of power would shift overwhelmingly in their favor.
“With all due respect, boss. Did you get enough sleep last night?”
“I’m saying this because you’re overthinking things too much. Now listen.”
Orthes’ bemused tone couldn’t deter Carisia’s brazen determination.
“Now, imagine we’ve collected all ten Commandments, and the Mage King is resurrected.”
The Adoosiam alarm would signal his return.
The first blast—White Light.
The second—Yellow Thunder.
The third, fourth, and fifth Commandments would follow.
“And after we’ve detonated all ten Commandments, if he’s still alive, we’ll set off the Artificial Commandments. Ta-da!”
Carisia spread her hands and smiled brightly. Orthes couldn’t suppress a small laugh at the absurdity of it all.
What was truly absurd, however, was the logic. Even Orthes couldn’t see how the Mage King could survive eleven consecutive Commandment-level detonations.
“So what you’re proposing, boss, is that we systematically eliminate the Ten Towers to secure ammunition for the Mage King?”
“Exactly. Simple, right?”
“Simple and foolproof—aside from the fact that we’re not even sure we can take down one tower.”
Orthes chuckled, half-expecting Carisia to have some hidden strategy. But to his surprise, she shook her head.
“Figuring out how to achieve this is your job, isn’t it?”
“…What?”
“My original plan was just to destroy White Light. A modest goal, don’t you think?”
Whether toppling the supreme authority of the magical world could be called “modest” was debatable. Under normal circumstances, Orthes would have protested her tendency to assign lofty goals while delegating the details entirely to him.
But today, he felt a strange sense of relief. The absurd plan provided an odd comfort.
“The boss adjusted the company’s objectives to match her employees, so I’ll trust you to make it happen,” Carisia said with a grin.
Orthes’ determination began to burn anew, with an unexpected hint of enjoyment.
“The idea of a succession war is incredibly useful. Let’s start there.”
***
Q: How do you defeat the Mage King?
A: Eleven consecutive Commandment detonations.
It was absurdly simple logic. The Ten Commandments defeated the Mage King once before; surely, eleven would be even more effective!
Carisia’s reckless calculations were usually a headache, but today was different. Focusing on securing the Commandments opened new possibilities.
“The Ten Towers are preparing for a campaign against Argyrion. They’ve been undermining the magical order for years—”
“Most of which was your doing, wasn’t it?”
“That’s not the point. What matters is that the Ten Towers believe it was all Argyrion’s doing.”
Carisia’s pointed truth was gently brushed aside as Orthes continued.
No matter how powerful the Ten Towers were, launching an expedition into Argyrion’s extra-dimensional stronghold would strain their resources.
Even with the infinite mana of the Commandments, mages themselves had limits.
“When the Ten Towers’ elders are absent on this campaign, it will disrupt the magical order.”
“And how do you plan to exploit that?”
“Succession wars. With the elders who’ve managed the Commandments gone, it’ll be the perfect opportunity to claim them.”
Up until now, Orthes’ schemes had focused on pitting natural enemies against each other: Argyrion versus the Ten Towers, the Ten Towers versus the Divine Cult, and Blasphemia versus Argos.
But now, it was time to play on a grander scale.
The time had come to deceive the entire magical world.
“How will you determine when the Ten Towers begin their campaign?”
“We’ll use Kine, who was recently scouted by the Black Dark Tower. Even as a new recruit, she’ll notice if multiple elders suddenly go missing.”
But relying on a single method could be dangerous.
“Lampades’ Radar can track the massive spatial disturbances caused by extra-dimensional expeditions. Observing these fluctuations will let us pinpoint their departure.”
“We could also siphon intelligence from Blasphemia. If Niobe contacts me as a trusted ally, she might provide insider information.”
“The most optimistic scenario is if the Ten Towers themselves announce their campaign. Given how Argyrion has tarnished their reputation, they might hold a grand send-off to flaunt their power. That would make it easy to time the public’s agitation.”
Ideas flowed endlessly, fueled by Orthes’ newfound clarity. Carisia nodded along.
“And then?”
“Then we incite the other mage towers. With Argyrion’s defeat imminent, we convince them to hold succession wars and claim the Commandments before the elders return.”
The Ten Towers had maintained order through fear and strength, especially in this volatile era where Argyrion’s chaos stood out. Harsh decrees like relic confiscations and immediate executions of suspected Argyrion agents had fostered widespread resentment.
If the Ten Towers’ “strength” was away on a campaign, what then?
“They’ll regret relying solely on power to maintain internal order.”
The classic three-way stratagem had grown stale. Why settle for dividing the world into three parts?
Now was the time for the plan of universal division.