For the past decade, I’d been hiding out in the Tower of Mirage. It wasn’t exactly a five-star hotel, but it served its purpose—one of the key locations in Hero Ender, and more importantly, my safe haven. In the novel, the protagonist would eventually make his way here to acquire the , a weapon of incomprehensible power. It was supposed to be this epic moment where the hero gained the strength to face the darkness, but for me? It was more like a well-placed insurance plan.

I remembered, with a bit of fondness, how I orchestrated the whole thing. I machinated a "chance" encounter with the protagonist in the woods surrounding the tower, setting him on the right path to discover the blade. That was the one and only time I left the tower in the past ten years. It felt almost like fulfilling a contractual obligation—get the hero his shiny sword and then return to my life of isolation. I gave him the clue, sent him on his way, and then… I returned to the tower.

After that, the Tower of Mirage became my home, my bunker, and my fortress of solitude. While the world outside was falling apart with various world-ending events popping up like weeds, I was comfortably tucked away here. Let the heroes and villains have their fun—I had no intention of getting involved.

The Tower of Mirage, despite its grandiose name, wasn’t anything to write home about.

In fact, conquering it had been embarrassingly easy. The previous owner, the Archmage who once ruled this place, was an irresponsible hack. He didn’t even bother locking the door most of the time, which made my takeover a breeze. I waltzed in, found the place practically empty, and claimed it without breaking a sweat. It turned out the Archmage wasn’t much of a protector of treasure—most of the valuables had already been looted, except for a few well-hidden ones that took some digging.

Yeah… like the .

From what little I knew of the Archmage through the novel Hero Ender, he wasn’t exactly a model wizard. And after reading through his dusty old diary, I realized the guy was more of a thief than a mage. He’d spent most of his life pilfering magical artifacts from others, then hiding out here to avoid the consequences. Not exactly the towering figure of wisdom and power you’d expect from someone with the title "Archmage."

But the diary had its uses. It contained all the information I needed on how to get the —a handy little guide for when the hero inevitably showed up. For ten years in the world of Hero Ender, the Tower of Mirage had remained vacant, waiting for its part in the story to unfold. Now? It had me. And while it wasn’t exactly a glamorous existence, it was a lot better than getting swept up in the chaos of the main plotline.

So, here I stayed, the not-so-proud new owner of the Tower of Mirage, avoiding fate, dodging destiny, and keeping a safe distance from all the heroic nonsense outside.

If not for the Tower’s illusion spells, I probably wouldn’t have felt nearly as safe as I did for the past decade. It was truly a stroke of luck that I’d stumbled upon the place back then, with its magic unactivated. The Tower of Mirage had been the perfect hideaway, its enchantments cloaking me from the chaos of the outside world. But, like all good things, my time here had to come to an end.

The epilogue of Hero Ender should have reached its conclusion by now. The hero had probably defeated the final boss, the world saved from impending doom, yada yada. The story I’d spent ten years avoiding had finally wrapped up, and with that, my self-imposed exile was no longer necessary. It was time to move on, whether I liked it or not.

I gathered the few items I could carry. Most of the tower’s treasures had been picked clean long ago, so I wasn’t exactly burdened with riches. I activated the enchantments I’d meticulously placed around the Tower of Mirage, securing it for whatever—or whoever—might come next. Then, I packed my things, slung my bag over my shoulder, and closed the humble wooden door behind me.

The Tower itself wasn’t much—four floors, not particularly tall or grand. But despite its simplicity, it had become something special to me. Like me, it was ordinary, but it had served its purpose well. It was a place that had sheltered me, kept me safe, and for that, it held a special place in my heart.

Before leaving, I made one last stop. Just outside the tower, nestled in the forest, was a lone grave. The resting place of Archmage Bon Von Dubon. I stood before the weathered tombstone, feeling an assortment of guilt and gratitude.

Stolen story; please report.

I bowed my head respectfully. "I’m sorry for everything," I said quietly. "For taking over your home, for digging up your secret treasures, for stealing your ring, and… well, for pissing on the walls sometimes when I was drunk." Yeah, I hadn’t exactly been the best tenant.

"Goodbye, my unofficial mentor," I added, even though the Archmage had been dead for over 200 years. He wasn’t really my mentor, but in a way, I felt like I’d learned a lot from him—even if most of it was from his diary. "See you never."

With that, I turned and began my journey. The Tower of Mirage had been my home for so long, but it had also been a place of loneliness and isolation. It was time to find somewhere new, somewhere less… haunted by the past.

I glanced back at the tower one last time, then mentally activated the latest enchantment I’d installed. Thick fog swirled around the structure, obscuring it from view until it completely vanished from sight.

"Rest in peace, Bon Von Dubon," I whispered. "And thank you."

And with that, I finally left the Tower of Mirage behind, walking into the unknown in search of a new home.

.

.

.

A silhouette darted from tree to tree with lithe grace. That silhouette was me. I jumped from one branch to another, moving with finesse, relying on my psychic-based illusion magic, . The spell allowed me to do anything I could visualize, as long as it was humanly and physically possible. It wasn’t exactly flying or teleportation, but it made me feel like a superhero whenever I used it.

Where was I going? Good question. If I had the power and freedom to do so, I’d say I might as well head back to Earth, but that was wishful thinking. No amount of jumping around the forest was going to take me back to my old planet. I’d been studying space magic for a while now, but without the right resources or advanced knowledge, I wasn’t anywhere near capable of opening a portal to another world. The Tower of Mirage had been great for illusion magic, but when it came to anything beyond that, it was a dead end.

And since I’d been a shut-in for the past decade, my options were limited. My only pastime had been studying magic, with the occasional moment of self-entertainment. Not exactly the life of adventure I once imagined, but at least I wasn’t dead. Small victories.

"Hmmm… it’s almost lunch," I muttered to myself, glancing up at the blazing sun of high noon.

The heat radiated down, reminding me how much I missed air conditioning. But no matter. Magic solved everything in this world, even the little nuisances like staying cool.

I found a spot beside a lake and settled down under the shade of a large tree. The grass was soft, and the shade provided some relief from the sun. Normally, camping out like this would have been a hassle back on Earth, with all the precautions against bugs and snakes, but here in Magnus? Magic made everything easier.

I cast , a handy little spell that messed with the cognition of any nearby creatures, making them ignore me voluntarily. If there were any snakes or deadly poisonous bugs around, they’d leave me alone. It was like having a personal "Do Not Disturb" sign in the middle of nature.

Then, I summoned one of my favorite treasures from the Tower of Mirage: . It was exactly what it sounded like—a loaf of bread that regenerated endlessly. Not gourmet by any means, but it kept me alive without needing to forage or hunt. I took a bite, and by the time I finished half, the other half had already grown back. I repeated the process, bite by bite, until I was full.

Sitting there, with the cool breeze from the lake and the calming sound of nature around me, I felt an odd sense of peace. Sure, I was still hiding from the world, still avoiding destiny, and still very much alone. But for now, at least, I had lunch. And in a world like Magnus, that was enough.

I returned the to my , a simple flick of the wrist and it vanished into the enchanted storage. That ring——held a special place in my heart, not just because it was useful, but because of the memories tied to it. I had plucked it right off the skeletal remains of Archmage Bon Von Dubon himself. It didn’t even show up in Hero Ender, so finding it, along with the other random treasures in the Tower of Mirage, had been a series of pleasant surprises.

It was a slow but rewarding process. While I locked myself away in the tower, I focused on improving my illusion magic. And as I grew stronger, I became better at deconstructing illusions too. That ability was a game-changer. If I hadn’t discovered , for instance, I wouldn’t have managed to become such a successful shut-in. It would’ve been a far less glamorous life of scavenging for food, probably digging through some monster’s carcass for sustenance.

I rose from my seat by the lake and gave my backside a good pat to brush off the grass and dirt. My attire was nothing fancy, just a modest set of leather gear I’d “acquired” last year. And by “acquired,” I meant I robbed it from a gravedigger. Yeah, it wasn’t my proudest moment, but it had been a fun one. Another fond memory in the ever-growing list of questionable decisions.

Heh~!

I couldn’t help but chuckle at how far I’d come. From a nobody earthling who ran from destiny to a reclusive magician hiding out in the woods, robbing the dead for clothes and living off regenerating bread. What a journey.