〈 Chapter 329 〉 Convergence (2)
*
Raniel van Trias.
The future Master of the Ashen Tower.
She stands before the towering structure.
The tower rises high into the sky, its name—Ashen Tower—holds great significance for Raniel.
The place where her life as a mage began.
The place where she started walking her own path of magic.
How much time had she spent within that spire? The mind games with the Elders, the memories of leading research and battling mages during her time as the next Master of the Tower, countless memories surged through Raniel’s mind, forcing a grin.
Once, it was her tower.
Yet, it was the tower she had walked away from on her own.
With determination, Raniel steps toward the Ashen Tower.
She intends to show the shadows that have seized this tower that the Ashen Mage has returned.
Booom!
The ground shakes, and the door to the Ashen Tower creaks open.
The flames that had flowed along the perimeter incinerated everything, but shadows still lingered inside. Looking at the thick, murky sludge spread all over, Raniel slowly closes her eyes.
“Hoo···.”
With one deep breath, Raniel opens her eyes. Her blue irises, tinged with ash, glimmer in the darkness. Then, a Braver’s voice echoes within the tower.
【Welcome back, Ashen.】
The Braver shouts.
【To my tower.】
Shadows lying in every corner surge upward.
2.
Fighting a mage in their own domain is exceedingly unfavorable. This case is no different. The Ashen Tower has already fallen into the hands of the Braver.
Every circuit existing within the Ashen Tower.
Spells to intercept intruders, an array of wards to protect research materials, all react to the shadows of the Braver. Beyond the writhing shadows, grotesquely twisted circuits emit light.
“Heh.”
Raniel chuckles lightly.
It’s impossible not to laugh.
The majority of the circuits the Braver now wields are ones that Raniel inscribed herself. She sees clearly what might spring forth from those circuits.
Magic engineering golems rise.
Mana masses, sharpened like spearheads, target Raniel. She glances over them and lightly taps her foot.
Boom!
With just that, all the circuits approaching completion disintegrate. Raniel gently taps the floor with her toes and adopts a stance.
It’s foolish to fight a mage in their realm, but this is also Raniel’s territory. In her mind, she can visualize the structure of the tower.
The shortest route to the top floor.
While imprinted with that route, Raniel intended to accelerate her movements but suddenly came to a halt. Something had caught her eye.
“······.”
The Ashen Tower was instantaneously engulfed by shadows.
Of course, mages still remained within the tower. Unconscious mages sprawled out come into view.
Shadows were embedded in their bodies.
The shadows were sucking away their mana.
As the shadows consumed mana, they ballooned. What do these inflated shadows become? Finding the answer is not difficult.
Rustle.
Something rises from the sludge-covered ground.
Knights clad in tattered armor.
The armor of the headless knights bore unfamiliar patterns. Raniel recognized them as emblems symbolizing the ancient kingdom of Arcadia.
“···A necromancer?”
Animating the dead from the past.
However, to Raniel, they were far from ordinary necromancers. Their bodies were made of shadows, closer to summoned beasts.
Rooted in necromancy but combined with the concept of a Summoner. Neither aspect lacks mastery. Just a glance reveals top-tier prowess.
‘But···.’
It doesn’t end there.
Within the procession of shadows that seized the tower and plundered the circuits resides the essence of a Wizard. The parasitic shadows relate to Sorcerers.
Wizard, Summoner, Necromancer, Shaman···.
Mages devote their entire lives to mastering a single class, yet the Braver commands at least four of them. Mastery in all classes.
“······.”
Raniel fell silent.
The longer this situation drags on, the more disadvantageous it becomes.
There are dozens, hundreds of mages within the tower··· and there’s a time limit on rescuing those infested by shadows.
Raniel makes a decision.
What she needs to do now is create a path for those who will follow her. She will leave what she’s behind to them. She must focus on what she can do.
Accelerate.
Accelerate, accelerate, accelerate…
Reinforcement spells piled one on top of another.
Raniel presses down on the rising ash with her foot. The spots where she steps begin to burn.
She clears a path.
A route leading to the top floor.
Raniel stares straight ahead. Murky sludge swells, knights spring forth, writhing tentacles. Numerous threats obstruct her way.
Boom!
Raniel kicks the ground and starts sprinting.
Each step she takes leaves a trail of burnt, red footprints. The knights barely react to her charge. Tentacles that touch the flames dissolve into ash.
The flames rise, unextinguished.
Fire connects with fire, turning into a conflagration.
The blaze becomes a path leading toward the top floor. Leaving her mark, Raniel heads for the summit to hunt the Braver.
*
At the top floor of the tower.
The Braver gazes at the seed of magic just beginning to sprout. The seed has yet to germinate. At this very moment, it should have sprouted, but with the disrupted plans, there’s still time before germination.
And the intruder who has stepped foot in this tower seems utterly uninterested in letting that time pass.
Thud, thud.
The tower shakes in response.
Even when walls are raised, and summoned beasts block the path, not even a second can they hold back the intruder’s advance. They merely break through.
“A variable.”
The Braver’s lips twist into a grin.
“It’s a variable.”
In this moment, the Braver recalls the past.
A memory from long ago when he still had a name. From the distant past of Arcadia.
“I created the Demon King.”
“In the face of a perfected god, the entire world shall be stained black. No one can stop the procession of curses. You are already finished.”
He remembers the one who clutched his collar and shouted. The wretched voice of that mage echoes in the Braver’s mind, causing a smile to creep onto his face.
“Did you think it would end like this? That everything would go according to your plan?”
Ashen-haired man.
“Don’t make me laugh.”
Golden eyes.
“What you could not anticipate, what you could not plan for, what you could not even dream of as a variable.”
Cardi van Armiel, the Ashen Mage.
“I shall be your variable.”
“I shall become the variable that thoroughly disrupts your plans, the one that nullifies all you have built.”
“The Ashen shall surely topple all that is yours.”
At that moment, the Braver remembers clearly those who stood alongside the Grand Magus. He has not forgotten the brilliant radiance. How could he ever forget? It was like his retinas were being burned away.
The Hero, Ganikalt van Galatrick.
The Sorcerer, Belial van Dragonik.
The Saint, Gleria Bel Armias.
The Grand Magus, Cardi van Armiel.
Those who led the brilliant light and ultimately shattered his plans. The heroes who halted the time of this world, which spiraled toward ruin. Reflecting on their end, the Braver bursts into mad laughter.
He wishes for it.
He wishes and wishes again.
For the brilliant light to be born, for that light to eventually be swallowed by shadows and corrupted. He longs to hear the screams of the ruined heroes echo in his ears.
He yearns fervently.
With that hope, the Braver lifts his head.
“Indeed.”
The vibrations that had been shaking the tower had also ceased.
Someone has stepped onto the top floor of the tower.
The Braver gazes upon his visitor.
“Just as I expected.”
The Braver’s eyes perceive the soul.
He sees the brilliance held by living beings. That brilliance is akin to the purity of the soul, shining in proportion to the nobility it possesses.
He has witnessed countless heroes.
Countless superhumans.
Yet, for hundreds of years, no one compares to the brilliance of the four who slayed the Demon Lord. All fall short. All of them. He has yet to find the brilliance he desires.
But at this moment.
The Braver has found that brilliance.
In the presence of the one who rewards his hundreds of years of waiting stands someone before him. He breaks into a radiant smile at the blinding brilliance. His arms spread wide.
“Raniel van Trias.”
Ashen Mage.
Child who carries the will of ash.
I have awaited you.
The Braver rises from his seat.
Twisted circuits surge upward from the sludge. The crimson circuits are etched with ancient characters. Hundreds of circuits fill the top floor.
The first Braver to have ascended to the position of Grand Magus in a human body welcomes a distant junior.
3.
One by one, they gather before the tower.
The first to arrive is Kalt.
Having taken down dozens of Betrayers on the way, Kalt shakes off the blood on his sword and exhales sharply. The horde of beasts continuing to surge has noticeably weakened.
‘What remains now…’
Kalt raises his head.
The tower, towering as if to touch the sky.
From the summit, shockwaves continue to erupt. The ripple of magical energy resonates through the air.
‘…Chilling.’
Already, that place is a different world.
The magnitude of the erupting magical energy far exceeds ordinary understanding. Kalt swallows hard and looks back, sensing movement.
Familiar faces are there.
“I think this is the place.”
“…Over there, Professor Rania.”
Sorcerer, Belnoa.
Apprentice Hero, Chloe.
“Belnoa, you’re here too.”
“…Aren’t you going to use your sword? Didn’t you say you brought it?”
“It’s still more comfortable with an axe. Plus, if I swing that sword once, my bones will break. It really hurts…”
Warrior, Lac von Grace.
“I believe this is the place, right?”
“Uh, Princess…”
“No need for greetings. You all seem hurried.”
Stella, the Fourth Princess Ayla.
Next, a group of students affiliated with Apuria gathers. Their backgrounds and statuses vary··· but they were all taught by the same mentor. Looking at each other’s faces, they exchange wry smiles.
Raniel van Trias.
Responding to the call of Apuria’s nightmare, she arrived.
They turn their gaze to Kalt.
Kalt, who had often interacted with the Apuria students alongside Raniel, had been relatively close in witnessing their growth, even if not as closely as Raniel.
Do they possess the skill to step here?
While it could be dangerous, Kalt had no intention of stopping them. He trusts his senior’s judgment. With confidence, Kalt takes a step toward the tower.
The entrance of the tower, resembling a beast’s maw.
The moment he steps inside, the writhing shadows greet him. From within the shadows surge dozens of summoned beasts. The sight of headless knights moving is unnerving.
And, one more thing.
Flames ignite among them.
A consistent trail of flames stretches upward. Glancing around, Kalt gathers information. He analyzes the mission that Raniel left behind.
He is Kalt, the tracker and aide of the Ashen Mage. Immediately, he realizes what the Ashen Mage wishes of him.
Whoosh.
Kalt swiftly swings his sword, tightening his grip.
“No need to look left or right.”
Kalt declares.
“Just run forward.”
Whether it’s behind or beside, he will handle it all.
He will also rescue any remaining hostages.
“Go.”
Kalt kicks the ground and leaps.
The path shall be forged by me.
Feeling the others trailing behind, Kalt cleaves through the knights clad in headless armor. His sword draws a smooth silvery pathway.
Stamping on the bisected knight’s armor, Kalt leaps between the knights.
Swish!
The silvery trail dances wildly.
With the sword inherited from the most noble superhuman, Kuntel, Kalt creates a path for the divine beings. To enhance the flames burning below, to make them blaze even brighter, ensuring that fire continues to flow.
Kalt wielded his sword.
The path—a silvery blade drawn by the superhuman—bisects the shadow-laden tower. Following the path left by the Ashen Mage and protected by the superhuman, the divine beings begin their sprint.
Toward the top floor of the tower.
*
