Chapter 39
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 39
Chapter Title: Steel Tower (1)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The sunlight shining on the Golden District was intense.
A fleet of cumulus clouds slowly crossed the blue sky.
It was the afternoon of the fifth day since receiving the invitation.
Bran and his companions were finally heading toward the Steel Tower.
"By the way, Bran. Couldn't we have asked Lady Proide for help?"
"What?"
Kael asked.
He was walking briskly beside Bran, clutching his staff with both hands.
When their eyes met, he continued in a shrinking voice.
"I-I'm not saying this because I'm scared or anything! But just having her behind us would make me feel at ease... Even if something goes wrong and we fail, if she stepped in..."
"Ah, is that it."
Bran shrugged.
It was a perfectly reasonable question.
Proide was a very powerful dragon, and she was on close terms with Ilark too.
Her assistance would undoubtedly be a huge help against the Abyss.
But kid, if that were possible, I would've asked first.
He was about to explain why they couldn't recruit the cute dragon maid to their side when...
"Sadly, that's not possible, Kael. It would violate the Dragon Code."
"The Dragon Code?"
"Yeah. It's the one and only law that proper dragons have to follow. No winged dragon can actively intervene in the conflicts of other races without permission from the Elder Dragon Council."
Ilark answered in his place.
As expected of someone with dragon blood, she knew a lot about dragon society.
"For reference, the Elder Dragon Council is like a gathering of seven old fogeys. The problem is they're terrifying geezers no one can stop, even if they shit on the walls in broad daylight."
She was walking behind Bran and Kael like a mercenary on guard duty.
The leather pauldron covering one shoulder and the massive double-headed axe slung on her back gave off the intimidating presence of a war chariot.
"I-I see. What happens if you break the code?"
"You die."
Ilark unhesitatingly drew her thumb across her throat.
Kael flinched, shoulders hunching.
"Eek."
"It depends on the severity, but it usually ends that way. Those Elder Dragon Council old-timers really value tradition. Anyway, I'll skip the rest since it'd get too long and boring... Point is, Proide can't help us."
Just as Ilark said.
Her father, Zarheim, had been able to burn down six countries in a row because the Elder Dragon Council approved it.
Despite the old fogey talk, the Council was an organization on par with the pantheon of gods.
It wasn't a code a mere servant like Proide could defy.
No one wanted her risking death to help them anyway.
"Is it okay for you to come with us then, Miss Ilark?"
"I'm fine. By the Elder Dragon Council old-timers' standards, half-breeds aren't dragons. I don't even have wings, so why should I be bound by that stupid code?"
"S-Sorry..."
"It's fine. I'm glad I don't have to follow that idiotic law."
Ilark cackled.
Her self-esteem seemed to have risen.
It was a line that would normally come with a self-deprecating bitter smile.
"By the way, Kael. When are you gonna drop the formalities with me?"
"Huh?"
"Come on, we even talked about it over dinner yesterday. You call Bran casually, so why 'Miss Ilark' for me? Aren't we friends?"
Ilark strode up and patted Kael's head.
Her hand was so large her fingers reached his nose.
"W-Well... It's just a habit I can't shake... I'll try starting today."
"Try?"
"Eek! I'll do it!"
His small face paled.
Ilark cackled at his good posture and patted his head.
Having gone through so much together, the two seemed quite close now.
Bran asked.
"So, Kael. Like the cloak?"
"Ah, yeah!"
Kael nodded enthusiastically.
He spun in place to show off his new outfit proudly.
Flutter. The dark red cloak billowed like a whirlwind.
"The lining is fur, but it's not hot at all and super light. Hehe, first time wearing something like this."
"Good to hear."
"And it matches yours, Bran. Kinda cute too."
"Hah... I wanted one too. If only I weren't so damn big."
Ilark grumbled, having missed out on a cloak due to leather shortage issues.
They'd distributed equipment made from Jerban's leather the night before.
He got gloves, boots, and a cloak.
Kael got a cloak.
Ilark took the pauldron covering one shoulder.
'Bilmoreth could've made it big as a fashion designer.'
The options befitting a hidden piece were great, but the comfort was outstanding too.
Bran tried on all the gear and distributed it to suit their abilities.
As an all-rounder, he naturally got the most pieces.
Wearing Rare-grade armor in three or more slots activates the set effect.
While wearing the armor, Strength, Agility, and Stamina increase.
The power of skills gained from wearing each piece of armor rises slightly.
...It wasn't that natural, honestly.
He'd decided to take the useful boots for everyone after realizing the set effects applied just like in the game.
Don't feel too hard done by, guys. I'll take more hits and dish out more damage.
As they chatted while walking along the Golden District's main avenue...
"Ah. We're here."
A thick shadow fell over their heads.
The three stopped and looked up almost simultaneously.
"...Whoa."
"Fuck. Never thought I'd live to step foot in here."
And they exclaimed in awe at almost the same time.
Even knowing they were walking into the tiger's maw, they couldn't help it.
Bran muttered.
"Impressive."
Even craning his neck fully, he couldn't see the tip.
The pentagonal pillar soaring toward the sky looked like the key to starting the massive machine called the city.
The Steel Tower.
The second wonder of the great blacksmith Valkeros, and the lord's residence.
"Citizen. What is your business at the Steel Tower?"
"Huh?"
Just then.
A mechanical voice rang out from behind them.
Turning around, a magitech golem at least 3 meters tall came into view.
Its plate armor covering its entire body gleamed under the summer sun.
Kael gasped in shock.
"G-Golems can talk?!"
"That little shit looks ready for a fight."
Ilark grinned, baring her teeth.
It had a far more combat-specialized design than the regular steel sentries.
Probably because it guarded the Steel Tower.
But that wasn't the only difference.
Bran calmly pulled out the invitation and held it out to the golem.
"Here."
"...Confirmation accepted. Follow me."
The golem turned after checking the invitation and began moving toward the Steel Tower.
Its gorilla-like long arms made for an impressive quadrupedal gait.
As the three stood dumbfounded, the golem looked back.
"Fol-low me."
"Ah, yes."
Bran's party followed the golem.
The people stepping aside from the golem's path looked just like sardines fleeing a shark.
"Wow. How does a golem understand all that?"
"I've seen ones like that occasionally. Sometimes they feel just like people."
Kael and Ilark chatted in admiring tones.
Bran, who knew the secret, had nothing to say, but to the uninformed, it was truly wondrous.
At the grand main gate of the Steel Tower, human soldiers performed another inspection.
"Gasp...! You're honored guests. Did our golem offend you in any way?"
The soldier's eyes widened upon checking the invitation.
He'd thought all invitations were the same, but they seemed tiered somehow.
"Nah, nothing like that. Pretty snappy, actually."
"Yes, sir! Enjoy your time. The lord's audience chamber is at the top floor!"
"Gate open!"
"Gate open!"
The soldier saluted.
The nearby golems mimicked similar poses.
The security was tight, as expected.
There probably weren't many places with more golems than here, except maybe the golem research labs.
Rumble...!
With a heavy groan, the castle gate opened.
At the end of a long corridor stretched a pentagonal lobby.
Wider than the average village square.
Suit-clad officials bustled through the lobby.
"We've got a mountain of documents to clear by today! Hurry up!"
"Yes, yes. The golem research lab isn't here—it's right below."
"Telegram from the capital!"
If not for the chaos, it could've been the Steel District.
Seeing the elevators—two per wall—gave a sense of familiarity, like a reskinned real-world office building.
If only public offices were this busy on the surface.
"Everyone ready?"
Still no sign of the Abyss so far.
Bran turned to the other two.
"Of course! Let 'em come, fuckers."
"I-I'm ready too...!"
Ilark thumped her chest.
Kael took deep breaths to steel his nerves.
Fortunately, both seemed full of fighting spirit.
"Good. Let's go in."
With that, Bran stepped forward.
Bam.
The moment the three entered the corridor, the great doors closed behind them.
The future was unpredictable, but it would probably be fine.
They'd done everything they could for this day.
"This is the waiting room. Rest comfortably until the lord calls for you."
"Sure... Thanks."
Bran thanked her after stepping out of the elevator.
The pretty uniformed guide bowed politely.
Creeeak. Thud.
The elevator doors closed.
Unlike the modern lobby, the waiting room was lavishly decorated.
People with invitations, like Bran's group, gathered in twos and threes, chatting.
Mostly nobles by their attire. Few adventurers.
Ilark muttered.
"Hm. Nothing happened."
"Ugh... Stomach feels off."
All three couldn't hide their bewilderment.
Of course, they hadn't expected masked assailants to attack the moment they entered the Steel Tower, but this was too peaceful.
No wrong turns either.
Before Bran could use his player knowledge, the attached guide had kindly led them straight to the top floor where the lord awaited.
Even as they stayed vigilant for some ulterior motive...
"Oh, you lot! Finally made it."
A familiar voice came from nearby.
A rich baritone that seemed to bring wealth just by hearing it.
Shifting their gazes, the three's eyes widened.
"Leodorn?"
"Good to see your faces after so long. Doing well?"
It was Leodorn, now a managing director at Baek Eunsong.
The neat suit suited him well.
The wounds from his torture had fully healed.
"What brings you here, old man?"
"Just business. Dealing with the merchant guild means visiting the Steel Tower often."
As expected of a major guild executive.
Ilark asked.
"You look healthy—glad to see it, Leodorn. How'd you know we were coming?"
"Thrilled to see you too, Ilark. The lord himself told me about your visit."
"The lord?"
"Yes. No idea why, but he seemed awfully excited. Looked like he really wanted to meet you all."
Leodorn stroked his beard.
Bran's eyes narrowed.
"Excited? That lord?"
"Eh? Yes. So different from his usual self that even I was surprised."
"...Hm."
Something was off.
The Valkeros lord Bran knew wasn't like that at all.
An emotional pauper outdone by golems.
Suddenly, Leodorn glanced around and leaned in to whisper.
"Actually..."
"Lord Bran, Lord Kael, Lord Ilark. The lord summons you."
He was just about to whisper.
A soldier by the door to the audience chamber called their names.
Leodorn smacked his lips.
"Mm, we'll talk after. It's not that important."
"Sure. See you soon."
No choice but to go in now, regretfully.
With so many waiting, why call us first?
As Bran wondered and entered the audience chamber...
"Haha, come on in! Heroes who saved Valkeros!"
A booming voice echoed.
For an instant, chills raced down Bran's spine.
Looking up hurriedly, he saw a man at the end of the red carpet.
A towering middle-aged man.
Armor unsuited to a lord handling state affairs.
Lion-like flowing hair crowned with the iron circlet symbolizing Valkeros's leader.
Up to here, it matched Bran's memory.
The problem was his energy.
The man spread his arms wide toward Bran and shouted.
"Why stand there? Come closer!"
"...Yes. Understood."
Bran replied and stepped forward.
Ready to draw his sword at any moment.
'We're fucked.'
That bastard.
Wasn't the lord.