Chapter 235

#235 Episode: The Tin Knight and the Witch of Cheonbyeon (5)

“You say you’re going to see this through. You…”

Dorothea hesitated in her words.

She knew logically, of course, that it couldn’t turn out well, neither for Gale and the White Knight nor for the forces from the Tower of Guardian suffering irrecoverable losses. If they sought a complete victory, this was not how things should go. If they wanted to send reinforcements and strike the tower simultaneously, splitting their forces was the best option.

But that would place an immense burden on those left behind.

The absence of the Tin Knight, who could be called their strongest ally, and Dorothea, who supplied him with magical power, would leave a gaping hole.

“It’s fine, Witch. You can do it.”

As if reading Dorothea’s hesitation, Adelheid declared confidently.

Not “I’ll give it a try,” nor “I’ll do my best,” but “You can do it.”

Dorothea felt a dozen protests rise in her throat, but like it or not, the Witch was wise.

Instead of wasting time with meaningless arguments, she spoke briefly.

“Don’t die. I won’t be collecting your soul.”

At that blunt sarcasm, Adelheid replied with a smile.

Captain Bill, who had been mocking the trivial melodrama for not lasting long, got hit by a body blow from Trot and grumbled, while Sophia silently joined Adelheid.

Just before their party split off again.

[“The ‘Tin Knight’ says it’s time to let loose since he’s held back for too long!”]

Leaving only that, the Tin Knight embraced Dorothea, smashed through the tower’s wall, and leaped through the gap.

It was truly a liberating departure, disappearing without so much as waiting for a reply.

Adelheid gazed momentarily at the space he left, then sprinted toward the next staircase.

—

Those who protect a kingdom’s king are usually individuals who balance skill and loyalty.

If someone could only possess one of those traits, it is generally those with loyalty who safeguard the king’s life.

Those without loyalty, no matter how skilled, may turn against him at any moment; yet, even the unskilled with loyalty could serve as meat shields if need be.

The Tower of Control, simultaneously a magical tower and a kingdom, was no different.

Rotbart Lognir, both Master of the Tower and King.

Those blocking the path to the top floor where he resided were, whether they preferred it or not, individuals distant from betrayal.

“Long live Aeolia! Glory to Lognir’s blood!”

Hearing tales of the glory from the ancient kingdom of Aeolia, some took it as their own.

“What business do these lowly scum have here with their dirty feet!!”

As descendants of Aeolian nobility, they believed that if the royal family reclaimed the throne, they too would regain old power.

“Die! Just die, you damned bastards!!”

Those fighting to cling to the power they once wielded.

“Stop them! None shall reach the Tower Master, or rather, my father!!”

Or those who, as pure blood relatives, sought to protect Rotbart.

Adelheid confronted all that resistance, that interference, that hostility head-on.

She evaded showers of magical arrows with agility, blew away the poison mist with her blade, and slashed through any obstacle in her path, be it spirits or golems or people.

“…Incredible.”

Watching her, Trot involuntarily exclaimed in awe.

He knew it wasn’t the time for idle commentary while in combat, but he couldn’t help but be amazed; Adelheid’s performance was nothing short of terrifying.

In terms of adventurers, she could compete with silver rank; as a wizard, she exceeded the 3rd grade; and even as a knight, she was doing more than her share, while Trot could only focus on evading attacks in this situation.

Captain Bill and the trio of the eel-headed, Viking-helmeted, and octopus-headed commanders were also making considerable contributions, but that was thanks to Dorothea and Gale’s cooperation to entangle the contract lines, and as long as Trot was nearby, they could revive infinitely without the risk of being summoned back by the pirate ship, even if they suffered severe injuries.

Yet Adelheid was performing at an extraordinary level, surpassing even them.

No, she was going beyond that.

‘Did her movements become faster than before?’

Combat is immensely draining on the body.

Especially when attacks rain down from all directions, each one a risk to life.

As time passes, most would become fatigued, but Adelheid showed no sign of weariness at all.

Rather, the more she fought, the more proficient she became, and her reactions quickened.

Real-life experience in crisis helps one grow, but this was almost beyond imagination.

When breaking through the 6th floor, they took more than three times longer than before the Tin Knight and Dorothea left, and Sophia had to heal wounds with Holy Magic several times.

The crossing of the 7th floor took about twice as long, and a few times they faced dire moments, avoided only by the undead pirates blocking the attacks.

When breaking through the 8th floor, it was as if she read the patterns of the mages’ assaults, dodging as though playing dumb, taking 1.5 times as long.

And then came the 9th floor.

A Golem made entirely of metal, towering at about 5 meters, reached out its hands, blocking enemy attacks while allowing allies to pass through.

As soon as purple lightning flashed from Adelheid’s head, the Golem shattered into five pieces and was hurled at the mages.

The mages were squished under the rubble.

Still, those who survived attempted to stop the party, but ultimately were silenced.

It was a breakthrough remarkably swift compared to when the Tin Knight was present.

“…Phew.”

With only the final floor left, Adelheid sighed heavily.

Sophia lightly patted her shoulder.

The divine power emanating from Sophia soothed Adelheid’s exhaustion and wounds.

“I think I’d just be a hindrance ahead.”

Saying that, Sophia slumped to the ground.

Perhaps it was due to consecutively using divine power, but she reeked of something burning, and the radiant white divine aura seemed to have diminished, no longer emanating from her.

“Our pirate crew has come this far. Without that audacious rookie, if we move ourselves, we’ll just end up getting summoned again. Plus, we have to deal with those creeping up from below.”

Captain Bill gestured to where Trot lay, unconscious after a blow to the head during the fight.

Fortunately, it didn’t seem life-threatening; but even if he hadn’t lost consciousness, he was already drained, both physically and magically, so carrying him further would be impossible.

Adelheid briefly bowed her head to thank them.

“Thank you for helping this far. I wouldn’t have made it without you.”

“Ha! The little monster is being unnecessarily humble. We’re just doing what the contract requires. If you have time for sappy words, hurry up and finish this.”

Bill waved his hand dismissively, as if swatting away a bug, while Sophia smiled silently.

Adelheid turned her back and began to ascend the staircase.

Unlike every previous step where traps and attacks had rained down, the final staircase was eerily quiet.

Perhaps it was their own form of aesthetics.

While one would thoroughly secure the perimeter outside the castle, it seemed unthinkable to trap the very space where the king resided.

At the staircase’s end stood a single maid, adorned in a blend of old-fashioned elegance and practicality.

“The King is waiting for you.”

She maintained a carefully composed expression, but her body and voice trembled as if terrified of Adelheid.

Her hair was silver, and she appeared even younger compared to Adelheid.

Indeed, it was quite the piece of manipulation, and Adelheid felt a certain calm watching it.

Balancing the majesty expected of a king while not shying from getting her hands dirty or using even her own kin when necessary—a thoroughly pragmatic approach.

It indeed revealed the very nature of the Gray Old Man.

The maid glanced nervously at Adelheid, almost as if checking for permission, then began to recite the contents of her orders.

“I was not aware. It is true that Lognir’s bloodline ascends the high positions of the Tower, but it isn’t right without a certain age… so, um…”

“Would you open the door?”

Calmly.

With no hint of anger or hatred, Adelheid interrupted the young maid’s words.

The maid flinched and trembled violently before bowing and silently opening the door.

As Adelheid brushed past, the maid whispered so softly it was almost inaudible, almost as if only Adelheid could hear.

“…I’m sorry.”

Was it heartfelt repentance for her clan’s sins?

Or was it merely a hollow apology meant to gain favor and sympathy?

If this too was part of the Old Man’s scheme, that would indeed be something remarkable.

Adelheid did not respond and simply passed through the door.

Whether it had always been such or if it had been specially arranged for the occasion, the tenth floor was sparsely furnished, seemingly stripped of unnecessary items.

But that didn’t mean it looked desolate or empty.

Rather, by excluding the needless, it made whatever lay at the center stand out even more.

What stood there was a gigantic throne integrated with a crystal pillar.

The crystal exuded immense magical energy non-stop, and the glorious and solemn throne radiated a heaviness that pressed down on those who faced it.

Seated on that throne was someone.

He was the Master of the Tower of Control.

He was the king of this small yet extensive land.

He was the North Witch’s apprentice and, ironically, a betrayer who stabbed his master in the back.

He was one of Friedel’s foes.

The Gray Old Man. Rotbart Lognir gazed at Adelheid.

“─Impressive.”