Chapter 237

Chapter 237 – The One Who Led the Tower Lord Here

Aster, having safely pulled the youngsters from the carriage, bolted up the incline without hesitation.

The once-vibrant mountainside had been stripped of its life, exposing a barren skeleton of earth, with dry, lifeless foliage strewn miserably at the base.

The dead leaves swirled into the air with the swirling dust at each of his strides, but it did not take long for Aster to reach the mountain peak.

“…….”

Aster silently observed the panorama unfolding below him.

Gathered down in that valley were the children of the Black-White Slums whom he had just liberated, along with the contingent tasked with keeping them organized.

Those were Henji’s underlings. Furthermore…

Aster expanded his sensory reach as far as it would go.

The faint, hidden auras ringed around the elevations belonged to the Shadow Knights sent by the patriarch of Lortel.

Though they numbered only around ten, the perimeter they maintained was incredibly formidable.

Their assignments were straightforward.

Aster was to launch the assault on the Troubleshooter nursery, while Henji’s underlings took charge of the rescued children and supporting staff. Meanwhile, the Shadow Knights were tasked with intercepting any outside interference or runaway targets.

So where were Shine and Mysern?

Shine and Mysern were launching parallel assaults on other Troubleshooter nurseries.

However, they were operating at separate coordinates.

The location Aster currently overlooked was designated as the No. 2 nursery. At the same time, Shine and Mysern were descending upon the No. 3 and No. 4 nurseries.

The respective groups of Shadow Knights and Henji’s underlings assigned to each facility were fully positioned, waiting solely for Aster to give the word.

[You wretched punk, are you still dragging your feet?]

“Just a moment.”

Aster offered a brief response to Shine’s impatient voice coming through the communication orb, then shifted his focus slightly.

At the edge of his vision, nestled deep within the mountain ravines, sat a fortified compound that resembled a true military stronghold.

The span was far too grand for his natural perception to grasp clearly, but by channeling his mana, the layout became distinct. Aster quietly observed the fortification for a brief spell.

How many minutes slipped away in that stillness?

“We begin now. Senior Mysern, we are launching the assault.”

Aster signaled both Shine and Mysern in turn.

The instant his boot stepped off into the open air to make his descent.

Whirrr—

The latent mana in the atmosphere condensed into violent gusts, wrapping around his frame.

His silhouette swept down the slope like an avian predator, accompanied by a miniature spirit resembling a wyvern that flapped its wings right beside him—

Grrrr—

The unleashed force of transcendence threw the surrounding atmospheric mana into utter chaos. The wild distortion completely severed all local communications.

Right after, brilliant blue bolts of lightning surged from the heavens, slamming violently into the earth below.

Rumble-crack!

It was a fundamental lightning invocation completely devoid of complex imagery, yet to those on the receiving end, it felt like divine judgment.

The moment Aster’s signal reached him, Shine pushed himself up from the massive boulder he had been resting against, squaring his shoulders.

“I was starting to get restless anyway.”

Shine rolled his neck and shoulders as he initiated his descent down the mountain.

His initial paces were relaxed, but within moments, the surrounding terrain blurred past as his momentum exploded forward.

Instantly afterward, his physical form dissolved into the terrain, transitioning into a singular, creeping shadow.

“I usually don’t favor this approach, but it has its merits.”

Because Aster’s strategy demanded absolute discretion, Shine had chosen to operate as a creature of the dark today, rather than a traditional knight.

It was a brilliant, sunlit day.

Yet a harbinger of death drenched in crimson was slipping silently into the shadows cast by the cloaked wrongdoers.

They would fail to realize they were dying until it was too late.

In the meantime, Mysern, resting on a lofty peak, slowly unsealed his drooping eyes.

Positioned near him were Fury, Eiki, and Madrin keeping watch, though Fury’s expression was thoroughly irritated.

Her tiny cheeks puffed out dramatically, prompting a soft chuckle from Mysern.

“Haha, don’t be so resentful. True, that young rascal is putting this old frame to work, but isn’t it for a worthy cause?”

Fury snapped her gaze away at Mysern’s words, clearly in a bad mood.

Mysern observed her silently before gently rubbing Eiki, who lay curled tightly on his lap.

“Eiki, do you share Fury’s annoyance?”

Eiki cast a cool glance at Mysern upon hearing the inquiry, then casually shifted away and let out a massive yawn, showing a total lack of concern.

Mysern then directed his attention toward Madrin.

The massive land tortoise slowly blinked its sleepy eyes, showing an equal lack of interest.

Taking note of how his three spirits responded, Mysern’s lips curled into a wider smile.

Yet that lightheartedness lasted only a brief moment.

“It is time to commence. Fury, lend me your strength. I am growing old; I find myself relying on your aid far more these days.”

Perhaps his sincere request hit its mark.

The brooding Fury stealthily turned back around and landed directly on top of Mysern’s head.

“Haha.”

Mysern let out an amused chuckle at her forward behavior, though his mirth quickly evaporated.

Mysern gazed down at the Troubleshooter nursery situated at the foot of the mountain.

“This brings back memories of the past.”

Mysern had grown thoroughly weary of ambush tactics like this during the conflicts of the old era.

“To start, we disrupt their network, correct?”

Mysern extended his hand, pointing a single finger toward the sky. Instantly, elemental energy from wind, earth, and water began to rotate violently at his fingertip.

Spiritists did not possess the streamlined methodologies of traditional mages to jam transmissions, but Mysern’s approach was overwhelming.

Screeech, crash!

He encased the entirety of the nursery within a barrier of incredibly dense elemental force.

“Phew… Even an action like this takes a toll now. My days are surely numbered.”

Having completely isolated transmissions in the sector, Mysern let out a weary sigh as if drained of strength. But the moment he blinked his eyes once.

Woosh—

A ferocious gale tore through the encampment.

Rumble.

Dark storm clouds blotted out the sky.

Thump, thump, thump.

The bedrock beneath groaned.

“Let us begin.”

The fragile elderly man was no longer standing in that position.

The spiritist of the northern gales.

The titan from the old wartime era, summoned back into action by the Tower Lord, had finally shaken off his long slumber and stirred.

Troubleshooter trainee No. 7.

He had previously been a youth gang leader in the third alleyway of the Black-White Slums, and like most children from that environment, his exact age was a mystery to him.

He did not differ greatly from the rest of his fellow trainees.

Holding the position of a gang boss simply meant he had managed to secure enough food to develop a larger physical frame, but the Black-White Slums contained countless alleys.

Being a gang leader from the Black-White Slums carried no prestige inside the nursery, and No. 7 never considered it significant either.

And yet…

• P-Please, mercy…

Every time he witnessed fellow trainees perishing on a daily basis from the merciless conditioning, he merely considered himself fortunate to have possessed a sturdy build from eating well.

Whether his large frame was a result of securing food, or if securing food was a result of his dominance remained uncertain, but regardless.

Owing to his inherent physical resilience, No. 7 managed to survive the grueling regimen. While the rest of the children slept from sheer exhaustion, he remained awake, contemplating deeply under the cover of night.

‘Where exactly is this facility?’

Nothing but endless peaks filled his vision, and even tracking the stars provided no hint regarding their geographical position.

In truth, he lacked the knowledge to read the night sky anyway.

Even so, if he ever hoped to break free, he required knowledge of their coordinates, but he remained entirely in the dark.

His subsequent internal inquiry was simple.

‘Who are these captors?’

They were certainly no commonplace criminals.

Remembering how the syndicate enforcer had groveled in terror before transferring him to this location, they appeared to be high-born nobles or prestigious lineages from society…

‘What is their ultimate goal?’

What did they hope to achieve by breaking them down so thoroughly?

No. 7 possessed deep curiosity regarding this.

Unlike the other youths who had been enticed by the prospect of coin, he had been deceived by a syndicate thug’s claim of ‘providing you an education.’

Naturally, daily existence in the compound was far too demanding to permit constant contemplation.

Once the arcane instruction commenced shortly after, No. 7 had no choice but to concentrate fully, initially barely keeping pace with no mental bandwidth for secondary thoughts.

Fortunately, his aptitude was not limited to physical strength; he assimilated magical concepts with remarkable speed. Around that period, his doubts resurfaced.

‘Why must I endure this misery?’

Being treated worse than cattle… he comprehended that aspect. He had never experienced proper human decency in his life anyway.

This uncertainty was not a simple grievance about his current state, but rather touched upon something far more intrinsic.

• As I have stated, your existences belong entirely to my discretion.

How could the handlers view the trainees as mere bugs while maintaining such authority?

• This group?

• Th-They are… nothing remarkable… Argh!

How could the prestigious figures who visited occasionally cause even the cruel handlers to tremble in fear?

And.

‘…Why must it be me?’

This was a dilemma that ordinary gutter urchins never entertained.

Existing at the absolute bottom of society felt entirely natural to them.

But No. 7 wrestled with the thought without end.

To be frank, it was agonizing.

‘A person only lives once…’

He desired to eat well, clothe himself well, and live comfortably.

He didn’t crave extravagant garments or exotic dishes, just three proper meals every day and unsoiled clothes.

Yet what was his actual circumstance?

Growl.

Constantly famished and miserable.

Shiver.

Freezing to the bone without adequate coverage.

His daily sustenance consisted entirely of a foul nutritional paste meant solely to stave off death, and his clothing was nothing more than a shredded straw wrap.

But what options did he have?

He possessed no leverage.

No. 7 suppressed his bitterness, refining his physique and absorbing the magical arts dictated by the Troubleshooter nursery program.

He perfected concealment methods and memorized a vast array of miscellaneous data.

Eventually, a sudden realization struck him.

‘Could it be…’

The genuine agony was not the lack of food or the ragged clothing.

He was miserable due to a lack of power, yet to be precise, it might not be simple physical power.

Then what was it?

No. 7 brooded over it.

Kept pondering.

…That internal debate persisted even as the No. 2 nursery came under direct assault—or to put it more accurately, he was left completely stunned.

Rumble—

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Blinding thunderbolts descending directly from the heavens.

The handlers and combat mages who kept the nursery under a tight lock were struck down instantly by the cosmic discharges.

No. 7 sensed the immediate presence of death but clung desperately to his line of thought.

As if it represented the ultimate objective of his existence, the solitary truth to carry with him into oblivion.

When the thunderous echoes finally dissolved into silence.

Abruptly, the skies turned tranquil.

‘Did I… actually make it through?’

No. 7 checked his limbs to verify he was unharmed. He raised his gaze toward the sky for no particular reason.

Simply… the sky, now cleared of clouds, was strikingly pure.

As No. 7 stared upward in a daze.

“…….”

He caught sight of an unusual silhouette standing atop the apex of the tower.

Inexplicably, without requiring any explanation, he understood instinctively.

The individual who had decimated the terrifying handlers and mages with celestial lightning was that concealed infiltrator.

No. 7 was not the only one watching; the intruder looked down upon the gathered trainees and parted his lips.

A singular declaration.

“You are unchained.”

No. 7 stared blankly up at the figure.

‘…Unchained?’

But for what purpose?

It felt as though the intruder’s gaze pierced right through his soul… then the figure turned away without a second thought.

…No. 7 remained entirely unaware.

• No. 1, we are just Black-White Slums strays with absolutely nothing. No meals, no garments, no schooling. What do you think causes the greatest suffering?

• Having no food.

• If it were merely a matter of starvation, we wouldn’t have ended up in this place. The same goes for clothing. What do you think dragged our entire lives into this gutter?

• I don’t care about that.

• …The precise reason our existences are trapped in this gutter…

• I told you, I don’t care.

• You stubborn bastard.

A destiny that had already been erased.

A future observation belonging to No. 7, who would eventually take the title of No. 2.

• A lack of education was our greatest tragedy. If we had been granted knowledge, we wouldn’t have been ensnared by those noble house bastards to exist in this manner.

That very sentiment had guided the Tower Lord to this exact coordinate.

No. 7 would in all likelihood never discover this truth.

…And perhaps remaining oblivious was far better for his peace of mind.

‘No. 2… was stationed here?’

Aster’s gaze gleamed with intensity.

The Magic Tower was forever searching for captive… no, exceptional talent.