Chapter 233

# Episode 233: The Tin Knight and the Witch of the Riverbank (3)

A crowd of over tens of thousands swarmed around the Tower of Control.

Soldiers formed in orderly ranks. Knights shone in silver armor. And the wizards were casually giving orders with just a lift of their chins.

It was a scene that seemed to encapsulate the very values held by the force known as Control.

At the center, inside a lavishly spread military tent, Teur Lognir gazed into the crystal ball, watching the movements of the enemy.

“They really came.”

Instead of the typical robes and staffs we associate with wizards, this bizarre group wore flaming swords and body-enhancing suits.

Surrounding them were magical automatons and golems marching in formation, like some sort of bizarre parade.

Teur’s heart sank as he observed the distinct fighting spirit radiating from the forces of the Tower of Guardian.

“If only they had just collapsed in disarray without a fight.”

It’s not like he was supposed to say something like that as a commander, but Teur, being the commander he was, was all too aware of the dire state of the Tower of Control.

Even if the quality might have dwindled, in terms of scale, the magical force was still the largest in the Magical Kingdom, now reduced to less than half its strength, with the particularly irreplaceable high-ranking wizards suffering devastating losses.

They had managed to turn the tide with Mombi’s efforts, but that only underscored how weakened the faction had become, relying too heavily on the abilities of a single individual.

Hoping the enemy wouldn’t muster the will to fight and would instead crumble away, Teur knew that the world rarely plays out according to one’s wishes.

Even if they managed to win this battle, would the prosperity they sought still exist behind it?

With those questions nagging at him, Teur forcefully pushed those thoughts aside.

After all, if they couldn’t win the war right in front of them, they couldn’t guarantee what that ‘later’ might hold.

“Are there any sight of flying ships? No other intel?”

“I’m sorry, but there’s nothing useful. Many of our infiltrators among the Guardian’s side have been discovered, leaving only a few. Moreover, since those guys are halfway external forces, they seem to be clueless about the exact positions or plans within the Tower of Guardian.”

“Really, how can you trust and rely on such people? …No, we shouldn’t be saying that.”

“Teur sir?”

“No, it’s nothing. The combat formation should be complete. If the enemy approaches magical range, don’t attack right away. And—”

“—Wait, wait, hold on. Are you really thinking of fighting?”

As the tent flaps were roughly pushed aside, Teur grimaced at the face of Valdeus.

“What are you talking about, Valdeus? The enemy is right in front of us, so of course, we have to fight.”

“Ho ho, you should call me Big Brother Valdeus.”

“Answer the questions I ask.”

Valdeus Lognir spoke in a teasing tone, either unaware of Teur’s irritation or deliberately poking at it.

“Those guys are here to rescue the Master of the Tower of Guardian and their comrades, right? Why should we fight them fairly when we’ve captured the enemy king?”

Realizing what Valdeus was getting at, Teur couldn’t help but ask in disbelief.

“So what? You really think we should use the Master of the Tower as leverage to force them into submission? Are you out of your mind?”

Honestly, Teur felt uneasy even about the current situation of using the Master of the Tower as bait to lure the enemies.

It felt cowardly and dishonorable.

While some would scoff at the notion of keeping face in warfare as a fool’s errand, that perspective simply showed a lack of understanding.

Cowards are despised. Those without honor garner no respect.

A faction that disregarded dignity and prestige to chase after mere short-term gains would evoke fear but never earn admiration. That was a fatal loss for any nation.

At least until now, they could excuse it by saying, “We were simply trying to conclude confrontations in a decisive manner instead of sneaking attacks to increase collateral damage,” but if they attempted to use hostages any further, they would be undeniably branded as a despicable lot.

That was something Teur absolutely could not tolerate.

However, Valdeus seemed to have other ideas.

“Hmph, if that’s the case, you just sit back and watch. Big Brother will take care of everything neatly.”

“Unilateral action is not permitted, Valdeus. Just keep your spot.”

“You don’t have the right to order me around! The one who led this tower into a corner with incompetent command is you! How long are you going to act like my master?!”

Valdeus roared before storming out of the tent, prompting Teur to mutter curses as he watched his retreat.

“That idiotic fool, as soon as he was free from house arrest…!”

Having failed to properly address the Bone Flute incident, Valdeus was meant to suffer in obscurity for the rest of his days, but now, the Tower of Control didn’t have the personnel to spare as it once did.

Regardless of his command and political skills, Valdeus’s magical prowess was exceptional as a 4th Grade Wizard, and he had a title as the eldest son of the Gray Old Man.

Thus, it was a waste to let someone of his talent remain idle, which is why the Gray Old Man had granted him the position of a commando squad leader, but that frustrating man couldn’t contain himself and was about to cause another incident.

He probably thought that since Teur was now shouldering the responsibility for their previous defeat and his prestige had weakened, if he performed well, he could be favored as the heir again. Teur wanted to say, “For heaven’s sake, handle power struggles with at least a bit of situational awareness!”

“What shall we do, sir? Should we forcibly detain him?”

A subordinate cautiously inquired while observing Teur’s contorted expression.

While Teur and Valdeus both held positions directly under the Gray Old Man, Teur commanded all the regular troops outside the tower, while Valdeus only had a mere twenty or so wizards at his command.

It would be easy to detain him by force.

But Teur shook his head.

“It’d be the dumbest thing ever to show weakness because we’re fussing amongst ourselves when the enemy is right on our doorstep. Just let him be. We’ll proceed with the original plan.”

After all, the hostages were entirely in the hands of the North Witch, so there was no way Valdeus could do any harm to them.

All he could do would be to bluster threateningly.

Putting personality aside for a moment, Teur felt the absence of his more competent siblings painfully and considered the reality that even someone like Valdeus had to be treated as a key player.

***

“What a cocky little brat,” Valdeus muttered under his breath.

He deeply disliked Teur. He saw him as a filthy hypocrite, pretending to be all refined when they were both equally rotten.

Of course, Teur wasn’t pursuing justice or righteousness; he was merely avoiding unnecessary risks as a ruler. Still, Valdeus lacked the capacity to differentiate that.

Even if he did understand, it wouldn’t change anything. After all, he had cursed every sibling aspiring to his position.

As a noble bloodline, Valdeus believed it was only natural for him as the eldest son to ascend to the throne (Master of the Tower), but the Gray Old Man had trampled that hope.

He gave him slight preferential treatment as the eldest, providing some support and opportunities, but only just that.

Younger siblings like Teur and Giras, who received less support, had achieved greater accomplishments, and even cousins like Skoll and Harty had displayed outstanding talent, quickly reducing Valdeus to a figurehead.

But that was no longer the case.

Most of his formidable rivals had been killed by the enemy, and now, the only clear remaining competitor above him was Teur.

That meant as long as he could achieve greater feats than Teur, he could regain the rightful power he had originally deserved.

And that future was not too far away.

– “Hey, you there! Are you Rotbart’s son?”

– “Uh, yes! Yes! I’m the eldest son, Valdeus!”

– “Oh, really? Come to think of it, I think I’ve seen your name in Olin’s memory. You were quite small back then… How fortuitous. Take this.”

– “It’s a pouch. What’s inside?”

– “The Master of the Tower of Guardian and other wizards. You take care of them. Put magical power into it, and they’ll return to their original form.”

Recalling the conversation he had with the North Witch, Valdeus gripped the pouch tightly in his hands.

‘The Grandmaster specifically entrusted this to me. There’s no doubt he is supporting me!’

If someone as influential as Mombi supported him, the position of the next Master of the Tower was within reach.

He suppressed his excitement and shouted toward the forces of the Tower of Guardian.

“You fools who tried to threaten the Grandmaster of the Magical Kingdom and manipulate him to your will! Your crimes should warrant the utmost punishment, but I, Valdeus Lognir, shall grant you one last chance! Lay down your swords and staffs immediately and surrender! If you comply, I will show leniency, but if you refuse, your representative will meet a terrible end!”

As Valdeus’s words spread through amplification and playback magic, chaos erupted in the enemy ranks.

Seeing the enemy getting flustered with every word he spoke, Valdeus pulled out a human-like plant root from within the pouch.

As he infused magical energy into the root, the unconscious and limp form of the Master of the Tower of Guardian, Hermina, appeared before him.

“Come on, what are you doing! You don’t want to abandon your Master, do you? Hurry up and surrender!”

Valdeus felt an unparalleled sense of superiority wash over him.

At this moment, everyone on the battlefield was paying attention to him.

He was undoubtedly the main character of this war—

Kwah-bang!

—so why was there that sound?

Suddenly alerted by the noise, Valdeus turned his head to the side.

To the side of the battlefield.

A magical ship, black as night and with a golden sail, was barreling toward the tower, firing cannons like crazy.

“W-what the hell! Don’t tell me you don’t care what happens to the hostages?!”

He shouted in panic, but received no response.

Moreover, strange phenomena began to occur in the sky.

Due to the sheer number, a flock of birds appeared so dense it looked like a dark cloud, and not just one, but three of them were flying toward the tower.

Attached to the birds’ talons were ropes woven like spiderwebs, and from these ropes dangled enormous leather pouches, easily big enough to hold a person.

To prevent a repeat of the tragedy of Ballaskalb, spirits and flying wizards stationed in the air unleashed a storm of attacks on the birds and the leather pouches they carried.

In an instant, the birds were shot down, causing the leather pouches to burst.

One. The contents were undead.

Two. This one was also undead.

Three. Come on, you should have figured it out by now, this too was undead.

As the troops were caught off guard, a massive shadow silently loomed over their heads.

Seeing the colossal undead descending toward the tower, they finally realized the flocks and pouches had simply been a bluff and gasped in horror.

Thinking the tower would surely collapse under the weight, just then, a colossal surge of magical power gathered at the top of the tower, blasting a massive beam toward the falling undead.

The intense attack, felt even from the ground, pierced through the giant undead in an instant.

Inside, there was nothing but emptiness, resembling a balloon with a hole in it.

And while they were wasting their firepower on something so absurd, Captain Bill’s pirate ship easily made its way to the tower.

As it had dropped in, the Tin Knight, embracing a black witch, landed atop the tower’s outer wall, scraping down with a sword to slow the descent.

In the midst of the chaotic battlefield, Valdeus muttered in a daze.

“No, the hostages are right here…?”