Chapter 143. The Master of the Tower
Midnight.
Within the castle of Lorutel, a suffocating tension swept through the air.
The knights who had arrived early at the scene were still unable to grasp the situation, bewildered and confused, while those who joined later gasped at the sight before them.
“Sir Zeke…?”
“No, isn’t that Sir Hamellan?”
“How could those two possibly be…”
It was a question directed to those who had been there first, yet none could provide a clear answer.
Amid that confusion, Zeke tightened his grip on his sword.
Creak, Creak!
The blade dug into his skin, scraping against bone, but he didn’t care. This sort of pain was nothing new to him.
The first to speak was Hamellan.
“Do you truly refuse to let go? Surely, you’re not siding with the intruder of Lorutel?”
“That man is not an intruder.”
“Then what is he?”
“……”
Zeke kept his lips firmly shut. It was by the order of his lord to maintain secrecy. Even if the opponent was Hamellan, the head of the Ten Swords, it was a command that had to be obeyed.
Hamellan’s eyes gleamed with a strange light for a moment, only for that glimmer to fade as he spoke again.
“If you refuse to answer, then I cannot be held responsible for what happens next. Are you fine with that?”
Zeke realized the moment had come to make a decision.
‘So be it.’
Hamellan had made up his mind. Even if that mad sorcerer lowered his weapon now, Hamellan would not stop until he had taken his head. If that was the case…
‘I have no choice but to fight.’
His mission was singular.
To bring that sorcerer to his lord.
‘I’ll abandon my right hand.’
That was his resolve.
As he reached for his sword with his unaccustomed left hand, a voice brushed past his ear.
“Step aside.”
“…?”
The voice belonged to Aster.
“That’s enough. I already saved your life once, no need to make my bed restless over it.”
“What are you… Hmph!”
Zeke’s eyes widened in shock.
Aster had grabbed the sword without the slightest hesitation.
If it were just an ordinary blade, it wouldn’t have been surprising, but Hamellan’s sword was brimming with condensed ether.
Zeke himself was already pouring in enough ether to counter it.
If the two forces clashed, their bodies could easily be torn apart!
“It’s dangerous, let go at once—!”
Before Zeke could finish his warning…
Zzzt!
A refreshing surge of mana flowed into the sword, and that wasn’t all.
Creak! Crack!
‘He’s… pushing back my ether?’
More than that, Aster was forcing Zeke’s ether out!
It was impossible.
Mana, by nature, had weak cohesion. And yet to drive out ether, such a feat was unthinkable, even for someone on the same level!
Of course, Aster wasn’t unharmed either.
“…Damn it, what a bunch of monsters.”
Gush!
A waterfall of red blood poured from his lips.
He hadn’t planned to intervene.
Didn’t Zeke say it himself earlier?
Without permission, crossing swords among the Ten was a serious crime. He hadn’t thought Hamellan would go so far as to sever Zeke’s hand, but…
‘This old man was serious.’
So then…The one who tied the knot must be the one to untie it.
At this point, there was no way to resolve the situation with half-hearted resolve. Not that he’d ever been half-hearted, after all, he had come here seeking Lorutel.
So Aster steadied his mind and focused his spirit. The pressure he had been scattering around vanished without a trace. Every ounce of his concentration was now aimed at withstanding Hamellan’s ether.
Seeing that, Zeke snapped back to his senses.
‘This is dangerous.’
He was barely holding on. So he prepared to rejoin the power struggle, but at that instant, an immense wave of ether surged through the sword in his grasp.
“Gah!”
Zeke stumbled back under the sudden shock.
Coughing up blood, he clutched his chest from the internal damage.
Hamellan’s voice followed.
“Sir Zeke, step back. The man himself said it, didn’t he? He already saved your life once, no need to make your bed uneasy.”
But Zeke did not yield.
“I cannot—”
Then…
“My apologies, Sir Zeke.”
The voice came from Ekst, the knight commander who had been silently observing. And with that, the wounded Zeke was restrained by Ekst and the other knights and dragged away.
Finally, only two figures remained at the center of the hall, Aster and Hamellan.
Hamellan glanced at the retreating Zeke and grinned faintly.
“My thanks. You spared me a troublesome scene. But… are you well? You look rather strained.”
“I’m not well, and yes, it’s quite painful.”
“For that, you’re rather composed.”
“Hardly. I’d rather be dead right now.”
“Hiding behind Sir Zeke’s back would’ve been wiser.”
“I’m already regretting that. I didn’t expect you to be such a monster.”
“Ha!”
Hamellan burst into laughter.
“Even speaking must hurt, yet your tongue’s still sharp. Quite the stubborn one.”
“Flattered?”
“Hm…?”
“If you’re flattered, perhaps you could go easy on me. I’m still a fresh-faced junior, after all.”
“Haha!”
Hamellan roared even louder this time.
“Madman! You’re utterly mad! Even during the old wars, there weren’t many like you!”
He was genuinely amused.
To scatter one’s aura throughout Lorutel’s heart like that, madness, truly.
But that amusement didn’t last.
Hamellan’s smile vanished, and his eyes hardened.
Amusement was one thing. Duty was another.
“For protecting the young lord’s sword-hand, I’ll spare your life. Destroying your core should suffice.”
Hamellan’s ether flared.
In an instant, it surged forth, overwhelming Aster’s mana, aiming to crush his core from within.
Rumble—!
A tidal wave of ether raced down the blade.
Aster’s dense mana tried to block it, but the raging ether shattered everything in its path.
A burst of blood erupted from Aster’s lips.
Splash!
‘…?’
Just as Hamellan felt victory at hand…He saw it.
Through the spray of blood, the faint curve of a smile.
A meaningless grin of a madman? No, there was something else. Those clear eyes gleamed like a predator’s, waiting for its chance.
Sensing danger, Hamellan’s instincts screamed.
Claang—!
“…!”
A whirlpool of mana erupted around the sorcerer.
Was it his last desperate struggle? No…
‘Danger!’
Hamellan reacted at once, withdrawing his ether and casting it outward to shield his body.
An indescribable heat washed over him a heartbeat later.
Whoooosh—!
‘What in the world…!’
Hamellan felt a terrifying heat unlike anything he’d ever experienced.
And just before the flames devoured his vision, he saw it clearly.
The sorcerer was smiling.
* * *
A sudden pillar of fire rose, illuminating Lorutel’s darkness.
Below it, the knights stood frozen, staring up at the sky.
No one spoke, but all of them felt it.
Rrrrrr!
The overwhelming flow of mana within that pillar of flame. The very air trembling from it.
It was a breathtaking sight. Even knights who knew nothing of magic stood in silent awe.
But that trance didn’t last long.
“What are you all doing?! Get a hold of yourselves!”
A thunderous roar split their thoughts apart.
At Commander Ekst’s shout, the knights snapped back to reality.
“W-what is this…?”
“S-Sir Hamellan!”
“The fire, someone bring a mage!”
Panic erupted from every direction. Some called out for the First Sword trapped in the flames, others searched frantically for the household mages.
But the chaos didn’t last.
“Everyone, stop! Regain your composure!”
Ether-laden authority filled the air, halting all motion. Even their breathing seemed to stop.
Commander Ekst’s sharp voice carried over the silent field.
“Sir Hamellan is unharmed! Do you take him for a man who would fall to mere flames?”
“No, sir!”
“Then what is our duty?”
His voice, cold as steel, infused with ether, pierced through every knight’s mind.
Indeed, Lorutel’s First Sword would not yield to a mere spell.
Then what was their duty now?
There was only one answer.
“……”
To slay the sorcerer who dared enter Lorutel and attack the First Sword.
Zzzzt!
Murderous intent filled the air. One strand, then another, honed as sharply as drawn blades.
And, of course, all of it was directed toward, the sorcerer standing before the pillar of flame, coughing up blood.
Shing!
Swish!
Without needing an order, countless blades were drawn, their killing intent sharpening even further. Just as the knights prepared to strike, the bleeding sorcerer straightened his back.
The knights froze at once.
“…!”
“…!”
Zzt, zzzzt!
The air stiffened, not just the air, but the very mana.
He hadn’t bound them with force.
They simply could not move.
Since their instincts screamed it, this place was under his control.
And if they moved…
‘We’ll die.’
Gulp!
Only the sound of their throats swallowing broke the silence.
Then, the pillar of fire shuddered violently.
Was the spell changing?
That thought flashed through the knights’ minds…
But no.
Slash!
A sharp tearing sound split the air.
The pillar of fire, which had reached the heavens, was cut clean in half.
The flames that seemed unending vanished moments later.
And in their place…
“…”
Lorutel’s First Sword, Hamellan, gazed straight ahead.
More precisely, at the mysterious sorcerer.
The man stood there, wearing the same calm expression as before, but with eyes sharper than blades.
“Who are you? You don’t seem like some ordinary rat.”
It was the first time Hamellan had asked directly. That was how deeply the sorcerer’s power had impressed him. And he wasn’t the only one curious.
Every knight’s attention was fixed on the sorcerer.
The sorcerer answered.
“I am the Master of the Tower.”
“…The tower?”
Hamellan tilted his head at the cryptic reply…
Rumble—!
The very mana of the air began to tremble.
“…Hah!”
Even Hamellan held his breath.
A brief stillness. And within that silence, the sorcerer’s voice tore through the air.
“Is this how Lorutel treats its guests?”
In that moment, no one saw him as a mere “sorcerer.”
“Bring me your lord.”
He was a Grand Mage, the Master of the Tower.
