Translator: CinderTL
Though the companions' brief laughter shattered the solemnity before the charge, the brutal reality of battle remained undiminished.
The moment they broke free from the main army's protective formation, they were instantly engulfed by the tide of steel and rotting flesh.
The magitech constructs' icy joints ground with ear-splitting friction as energy beams tore through the air, sweeping forward with a destructive aura.
Undead shrieked from the shadows of ruins and the wreckage of fallen constructs, their decaying claws lunging for living flesh.
"Left flank!"
Reggie's roar was like a war drum, his body transforming into a mobile fortress.
The academy mentor had somehow changed weapons. His massive shield swept through a row of charging undead, smashing them into pulp, while his heavy warhammer, crackling with wind and lightning, crushed a large construct into a crumpled wreck.
"Watch out above!"
Jashu's voice was as sharp as a blade.
Ghostlike figures darted through the chaos of blades and energy beams, his short blades becoming deadly silver threads.
Each precise thrust or throw crippled the joints of a leaping undead or a ambushing construct, sending them twitching to the ground.
His injured arm seemed to have no effect on his lethal efficiency.
Roland's Mithril Longsword danced, forming a shimmering curtain of light that precisely blocked the incoming energy beams. Wherever his blade passed, the Construct's armor split like paper, and undead heads flew high into the air.
Sweat soaked his hair, his breathing ragged from the intense combat, but his eyes remained as sharp as an eagle's, each swing of his sword carrying resolute force.
Galvis's music grew frantic and bloodthirsty, its strange sonic waves disrupting the Constructs' action circuits and causing lethal delays in their attacks.
Avril's arrows struck with vicious precision, each one finding the gaps in the Constructs' joints or the eye sockets of the undead.
Theresa's figure became a silver blur, her rapier moving so fast it left only glints of cold steel. Each precise thrust pierced the Constructs' weak joints or the undead's skulls, leaving fatal holes.
Freddy roared, his massive battle axe cleaving with mountain-splitting force, smashing through or flinging aside any enemies in his path.
The Purple-Haired Witch, Vanessa, remained quietly at the rear of the group, not joining the fight.
Instead, she observed the bloody, chaotic battlefield with her deep eyes, a curious and playful expression on her face, as if observing an interesting experiment.
Every step forward was taken on a battlefield of shattered metal and viscous flesh.
Rotten claws tore through Freddy's shoulder armor, while a cold, metallic fist nearly smashed into Galvis's back, only to be narrowly blocked by Roland.
The scene was brutal.
Wails and screams echoed endlessly.
The elite soldiers following behind fell one after another, either vaporized by energy beams, torn apart by undead, or crushed into pulp by the heavy fists of Constructs.
Severed limbs and shattered bones flew through the air, and blood stained the ruins a dark crimson.
The air reeked of burning metal, decaying corpses, and thick, cloying blood, making one's stomach churn.
Yet Roland and the others, the core of this team, moved like a sturdy ship cutting through a raging storm, a sharp blade cleaving through the tempest.
With seamless coordination and formidable strength, they carved a bloody path through the tide of death.
Their goal clear, their steps firm, they pressed forward against the torrent of destruction, advancing inch by inch toward the spire radiating ominous magic.
Trampling over countless corpses, the group finally broke through the last wave of death.
The spire stood before them, towering and imposing.
Roland raised his head and studied it closely.
It was even more colossal and oppressive than it had appeared from a distance.
The High Tower pierced the overcast sky like a colossal sword piercing heaven and earth.
Its body was constructed from some dark, non-metallic, non-stone material, its surface as smooth as a mirror, yet covered in uninterpretable, twisted runes.
Reflected in the immense magic power swirling around it, the tower pulsed with dark, ominous energy.
But this energy didn't radiate uniformly. Instead, it surged like a torrential flood, drawing strength from the complex magic array at the tower's base, surging upward along its body.
Roland's gaze rapidly followed the tower upward.
His eyes finally locked onto the summit.
There, the torrent of magic found its outlet, converging and spiraling wildly into a visible, violently pulsing dark core of light.
The space around the core warped slightly, exuding a destructive aura, as if it were the heart of a calamity.
"The core... is at the top!"
Behind them, the tide of death surged forward, its roars and the grinding of metal deafening.
"Move!"
Reggie's roar drowned out everything else.
He slammed his massive shield to the ground, his warhammer held horizontally like a gate.
The remaining soldiers swiftly formed a solid defensive line behind him.
"I'll hold this! Go!"
Roland cast one last glance at the flesh wall about to be submerged, gritted his teeth, and turned to slam his shoulder against the bronze tower door, which was covered in star-like patterns.
Hum!
The rune-locked chains sprang open, and a low hum emanated from the door hinges as the Magical Conductor Crystals began to operate.
Inside wasn't pure darkness. Countless diamond-shaped crystals were embedded in the stone walls.
The massive spiral staircase wasn't made of stone but cast from an unknown alloy with a pearlescent sheen. Breathing magical patterns were etched into the edge of each step.
The stairs clung to the tower wall, which was covered in energy conduits.
Liquid light flowed through the silver-gray pipes, branching and converging as they climbed upward before vanishing into the thick shadows distorted by energy turbulence above.
Looking up, they could see the remains of long-dormant floating platforms hanging beneath the stairs. The rusted metal frames still bore the emblems of the ancient city: a crossed staff and gear.
The tower wasn't empty.
More magitech constructs and reanimated Tower Guard skeletons poured from wall alcoves and stair corners, their icy killing intent instantly enveloping the group.
"Up!" Roland roared, his Mithril Longsword clearing the path.
The others followed closely, engaging in a desperate battle within the narrow spiral passage against the ambushing enemies.
Footsteps and the clang of metal echoed fiercely off the tower walls.
Just as they reached the halfway point of a floor, heavy footsteps thundered down from the stairwell above.
Several Iron Golems blocked their path.
"Leave this to me!"
Jashu's voice was cold and abrupt.
Before the words had fully left his lips, he moved like a phantom, surging upward against the tide of enemies. His short blade flashed with lethal silver light as it instantly entangled the foremost golem, luring it into a side passage.
"Don't stop!"
The team continued their desperate ascent.
After climbing two more floors, the narrow staircase was completely choked with constructs and skeletal warriors.
"Mr. Galvis!"
Freddy roared, his war axe roaring as it cleaved through the skeletal remains blocking their path.
His massive frame became an immovable bulwark in the middle of the stairs, his axe whirling in a storm of death.
Galvis's lyre music turned violent, the sound waves pushing back the surging enemies like tangible walls. The distinct snap of breaking strings rang out.
"Go, Roland! Quickly!"
Higher they climbed.
The stairs grew steeper, and the skeletal remains of Tower Guards, like maggots clinging to bone, lunged from unexpected angles.
Theresa and Avril exchanged a glance, no words needed.
Silver hair flashed as Theresa's rapier became a precise silver storm, instantly impaling several lunging skeletons and carving out a small space.
Avril drew her bow, her arrows finding their mark with deadly precision, covering the enemy soldiers who poked their heads around the corner of the upper staircase.
"Move!"
Theresa's voice was cold as ice. Her slender sword flashed out again like lightning, completely sealing off the path for their pursuers below.
Avril fired her last signal arrow. Its piercing whistle cut through the air, a silent farewell.
Now, only Roland remained.
As for Vanessa...
He had no time to search for the Purple-Haired Witch.
Overuse of his abilities had left him drenched in blood, his lungs burning like fire, his temples throbbing violently. Even his usually abundant soul energy felt dangerously depleted.
Behind him lay the path his companions had desperately torn open, and before him, the final spiral staircase winding upward.
Without hesitation, he poured every last shred of his strength into a desperate sprint up the ancient spiral stone stairs, leaving the thunderous din of battle far behind.
Finally...
With a resounding crash, he slammed open the heavy metal door at the top.
A blast of scorching, magic-infused air rushed to meet him.
The tower's summit platform lay before him.
At its center, the dark core, twisting space itself, pulsed with destructive light.
And before that violently throbbing core stood a figure.
(End of the Chapter)
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