Chapter 40
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 40
Chapter Title: Steel Tower (2)
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Rohart von Eisen.
The lord of Valkeros and a renowned ruler beloved by his citizens.
He had decent looks, and the rewards he handed out while praising players' achievements were quite generous, earning him good reviews from them too. But he had one glaring flaw.
'What an absurd sideshow. The guy's like a square-pants uncle.'
The man himself was just boring.
No expressions. No engaging interactions.
His longest line of dialogue was "(Character Name), thank you for devoting yourself to Valkeros." That said it all.
"Oho, finally getting to see you in the flesh. You have no idea how long I've been looking forward to this day. And Ilrak, I've only heard rumors about you, but... wow, you're impressive in every way!"
In other words, the lord's bubbly demeanor was a clear sign that something was seriously off.
Two possibilities.
Either the chef slipped hallucinogenic mushrooms into his meal by mistake, or this wasn't the real Rohart.
The latter was overwhelmingly more likely.
"It's an honor to meet you, my lord."
Bran and his group lined up before the lord.
A steel chair serving as a throne gleamed behind him.
They bowed politely, and the lord—who'd been chattering nonstop—finally caught his breath and faced them.
"Whew... thank you for coming all this way. You've racked up quite the achievements for this city."
"We merely did what needed doing."
"What needed doing, eh? Heh heh, most folks don't shoulder such heavy obligations."
The lord smiled.
An expression Bran had never seen, despite hundreds of encounters.
The lord unrolled a scroll on the chair and continued.
"As mercenaries, you've resolved numerous citizen grievances. You even vanquished the monstrous Iron Blood Twin Heroes... and provided crucial aid in arresting Chloe Gibitz, that malignant tumor of the White Silver Merchant Guild. In recognition of your merits, I bestow upon you the Steel Medals."
"Steel Medals, my lord?"
"Indeed. Who else deserves them more?"
Bran and Ilrak's eyes widened.
The Steel Medal was awarded to those who devoted themselves to Valkeros.
It was the best reward from the achievement commendation event.
'Now this is nice.'
Honor came with hefty gold coins and Valkeros citizenship.
Fake lord or not, the medals were real. No harm in grabbing them quick.
As they basked in the unexpected windfall...
"That said, the ceremony will have to wait a bit."
"Pardon?"
"It's a joyous occasion—best shared with as many well-wishers as possible. Once the sun sets and most of the invited guests arrive, we'll proceed then. In an open space, not this cramped room."
"Ah... very well."
Bran smacked his lips.
So close.
Why drag them here in such a hurry just for that?
'No clue.'
At least it was over quick. Good enough.
They had clear business in the Steel Tower, and it was best handled before running into Siliyen.
As Bran pondered a polite exit...
"So until then, spend some time with me. Have you all eaten?"
"...We ate right before heading to the Steel Tower."
"Perfect! Steel Tower cuisine tastes great even on a full stomach."
Suddenly, the lord invited them to dine.
All three flinched.
This was tricky.
It'd eat up hours at least.
And dining with a suspicious lord was risky business.
A sudden doubt crept in.
'Hang on. Is he really fake?'
They needed to verify once.
The lords he'd met in Return Load playthroughs were all from future timelines.
If this was the real Rohart and all those were fakes...?
Brrrrk!
Beyond derailing plans, it might shatter his sanity.
Bran mulled a test question and spoke up.
"We're deeply honored by your dinner invitation. But first, a question."
"Hm? What is it?"
"Truth be told, I grew up on tales of your heroism here in the Steel Tower, my lord. I've read your autobiography countless times."
"Heh heh, well now. You've got me flustered."
The lord chuckled heartily.
Kael and Ilrak, clueless to Bran's intent, just tilted their heads.
Checking his player memories, Bran pressed on.
"Two decades ago, a freak blizzard threatened to snuff out Yongsim-ro's flame. Citizens braved the deadly cold, praying for it to endure. I'd love to hear your words from that day, straight from you."
"...Ah?"
The lord's eyes narrowed.
He rolled them side to side, then stammered.
"Heh heh. Er. That incident...? You weren't even born yet. Must've left quite the impression."
"It best showcases your pragmatic side, my lord. Please, just once."
"It's not... hard, but... twenty years is a long time..."
The lord—or rather, the lord impersonator—trailed off.
Bran just smiled quietly.
'Knew it, you bastard.'
No sanity crisis incoming. Good.
Likely swapped out due to some recent incident.
One of his butterfly effects, probably.
'No idea what they're planning. Hope the real one's alive.'
Per the original story, low chance they'd killed the original. Small mercy.
Now, how to bail on dinner with this fake.
Push Ilrak's heat to flare her chronic condition?
Or just piss myself dramatically?
As Bran pondered...
"Go home."
A woman's voice echoed from somewhere.
Soft and languid, like she'd just woken.
The eerie déjà vu widened Bran and Kael's eyes.
"Valkeros's heart lies not in that hunk of metal, but in you all."
Everyone turned.
A silver-haired woman emerged from the door behind the steel chair.
Clinging black robe. Ghostly silent steps.
The fake lord's eyes bulged.
"Si-Siliyen."
"Touching words, right? They moved me so much, I recited them for you."
"Right. That's exactly what I said...! 'Go home. Valkeros's heart lies not in that hunk of metal, but in you all!' Now I remember. Ha ha ha!"
"Even so, my lord, you seem overly excited from meeting the guests. Forgetting that?"
"...Heh heh... heh."
The awkwardly laughing lord shut up.
His sidelong glances at Siliyen spoke volumes of their dynamic.
Siliyen, having silenced him, turned to Bran.
"Everyone. Lovely to see you again. Siliyen Lua, mage of Valkeros."
"Siliyen."
No otherworldly presence this time.
She'd masked it flawlessly—clearly prepared.
"So, Siliyen... what brings you here?"
"Urgent business for you, my lord. I'll escort these folks, so please return to your office."
"Ahem. Understood... I'll do that."
The lord nodded.
Too tense for even a perfunctory "take care" to Bran's group, he left.
Siliyen bowed her head, watching his back.
"My apologies. I know you were looking forward to dining with him. He's so busy, urgent matters pop up constantly."
"No worries."
"Hee hee, thank you for understanding. In that case, please relax in the waiting room... Ah, could I borrow just Bran for a moment?"
Kael and Ilrak's faces stiffened.
Directly calling him out. Unexpected.
"I have something to discuss. From the guild days."
"I-I was there too."
"Of course I remember, Kael. But this concerns Bran first. If you could wait just a bit?"
"Ugh...!"
Kael shrank back after piping up.
No room to insist.
Moment her secret slipped, their plans would crumble.
Bran nodded after a thought.
"Sure. You two wait outside."
"Br-Bran."
"She has something to say. An honor from the chief mage of magic."
"Oh my, I'm thrilled you put it that way."
Siliyen smiled with her eyes.
Thus, Bran parted from the pair and followed her.
Through the door she'd emerged from lay a small study.
Surrounded by books and clutter.
A massive telescope by the window, big enough for moon craters.
"My office. I can survey all of Valkeros with that scope. After work, I often come here to watch the city."
"Nice. Like an entomologist."
"Hee hee. Glad you get it. Colleagues call it creepy."
Siliyen seemed genuinely pleased.
Colleagues—likely the Abyss folk.
As Bran opened his mouth to ask why she'd called him...
Bang.
The door shut, and translucent messages flashed in sequence.
Confession Magic, Sermahat, invades you!
If resistance fails, you will answer the caster's questions with nothing but the truth.
It happened in a flash.
Something invisible pierced deep into his consciousness.
A first-time sensation. Like an unseen hook in his throat.
Siliyen smiled, hands behind her back.
"As expected, you qualify to join us."
"Join... us?"
He tried playing dumb, but it wouldn't come out.
Urk.
The invisible hook yanked the truth from his throat.
"...Yes."
"Knew it."
Siliyen sighed.
"Pathetic, really. Can't even stall for time on something that simple, forcing me to step in. Still, pulling you in early is a win."
"Pulling... me in...?"
"Sorry. Words stick, right? It'll end soon—bear with it. Leodorn interview's soon, so I had to get forceful."
She strolled over, placing a hand on the telescope.
"Bran, I've watched your exploits from here."
"..."
"Mercenary work, crushing Iron Veil Guild and Iron Blood Twin Heroes. Rescuing poor Leodorn and getting him reinstated... True heroics. Exactly the talent I've sought."
Siliyen smiled faintly.
As an unintelligible word slipped her lips...
Low-Grade Mind Domination Magic, Renavir, invades you!
If resistance fails, you will be unable to defy the caster's commands!
A new alert accompanied a hazy fog in his mind.
Second spell. Like chugging hard liquor straight from the bottle.
Waves of will crashed into his head.
"Honestly, a bit annoying. You've thrown our plans off. White Silver's distribution network was key for escalation, but you ousted Chloe."
"What... are you... plotting...?"
"Oh? Ego still hanging on? My eye for talent never fails."
Bran answered, earning her admiration.
He should've been a puppet by now.
She shook her head.
"Can't tell you that yet. You're not officially one of us. But this much, I can say."
"...?"
"Valkeros falls tomorrow."
Siliyen smiled, hands clasped behind her.
Voice subtly thrilled, like planning a surprise party.
"Fewer deaths than planned, but all die in the end. Yongsim-ro's flame snuffs out. Steel Tower becomes a rebel icon. Valkeros, city of fire and steel, fills not with hammer strikes, but death rattles."
"...!!!"
"Wondering why? Who we are? Don't worry—I'll tell all. You and your friends qualify to survive."
Otherworldly presence crushes you!
A red warning flashed.
Familiar. Mark of outer god minions.
"We are the Abyss. Apostles serving true gods in the sea beyond the sky."
Siliyen slowly spread her arms.
Backing against the telescope, she approached Bran.
"...Abyss."
"With you on our side, our wish manifests faster. For your friends' sake if not yours—please don't refuse."
Voice laced with earnest plea and coquetry.
No coercion—she believed she held his life in her hands.
On tiptoes, lips to his ear, she whispered.
"You'll join us, right?"
Waiting room.
"Pardon? The lord wasn't always like that?"
"Aye. Completely different man these past months. Merchants whisper he's been replaced by a double."
Leodorn grumbled.
Tale cut short by the lord's sudden summons.
Sensitive topic—voice low.
Kael, glancing around, spoke up.
"Y-Yeah, he was odd... couldn't even answer Bran's question..."
"Something's afoot. Checked Chloe's records from her exec days—shady Steel Tower deals galore. Where'd all those materials go...?"
Leodorn trailed off.
Chloe's handover had baffling entries aplenty.
Even accounting for the magitech golem lab, resources flooded the Tower excessively.
"Trains hauling unmarked cargo ran hundreds of times. Something's brewing out of sight."
"That's..."
Kael bit his lip.
Tied to Bran's Valkeros doom talk, surely.
But without him here, couldn't blurt it out.
Ilrak griped.
"Damn, why's Bran taking so long?"
"N-No trouble, right...?"
Over an hour since Siliyen led him off.
No one else entered the audience chamber.
Even refined nobles muttered complaints about the pointless wait.
"What kind of farce is this?"
"Tell me about it. Been here since morning."
"Got an invite as 'honored guest' with zero merits? Suspicious."
Conversations fueled unease.
Smash in and drag him out?
Just rip 'em all apart?
Ilrak toyed with her dagger hilt, muttering—then...
Creeeak.
Audience chamber doors opened. Bran and Siliyen emerged.
"Take care, Bran. Be sure to tell your friends. Ask my secretary anything you're curious about."
"Will do."
A suited brute in tow.
Secretary? Tell friends?
What the hell happened in there?
Bran bowed ninety degrees to Siliyen.
"Until next time, Siliyen."
"Yup. See you soon~"
Siliyen waved.
Flushed and beaming like farewelling a lover or child.
More shocking: Bran's eerily courteous demeanor.
He strode up briskly, stopping before the trio.
"Done. Let's go."
"Bran... you alright?"
"Nothing for you."
"Eek!"
Bran shoved past Leodorn's shoulder without a glance.
Leodorn stumbled, ignored.
"Bran! What the hell!?"
"Quiet. Move."
"Explain at least!"
"Y-Yeah... I'm worried too..."
Kael and Ilrak were baffled.
Knowing Siliyen and the Abyss, grim thoughts swirled.
Ilrak moved to stop him—
"Just go."
The suited brute gripped her shoulder.
Ilrak slowly turned.
"...Hey. Wanna get your head yanked off?"
Low growl.
Waiting room tensed at the dragonkin killing intent.
"Let. Go?"
Twitch. Brute smirked.
"Try it."
"You..."
Ilrak's pupils narrowed.
Whatever gave him the guts, he'd said try it—time to oblige.
Furious, she reached to rip the fool's head off—
"Ilrak. Let's go."
"Br-Bran?!"
"Enough. Hurry."
Bran reined her in.
Ilrak's face twisted in injustice, but he ignored it.
Grabbing Kael's wrist, Bran marched to the elevator.
"Ow, hurts!"
Ignoring Kael's yelp, Bran dragged him in. Ilrak followed.
Thud! Heavy tail slammed the floor.
"Fuck! What the hell's this shit?!"
"Gasp...!"
Nobles recoiled in fear.
She boarded fuming. Thump. Doors shut as brute entered.
Sealed box.
Brute reached for controls after confirming all aboard—
"Wrong one."
"Huh?"
Smack! Bran slapped his hand away.
Brute's face crumpled.
"Hey. Didn't Siliyen tell you? Your destination's set."
As he reached again—
Lightning-fast, Bran seized his throat and twisted.
Crack!!!
Bones snapped. Brute's eyes bulged.
"Ex...?!"
"Same for you."
Point-blank.
Convulsing like electrocuted, body slumped.
Staring eyes would never close.
"Eek?!"
"Bran, you...!"
Unmistakable instant death.
Kael and Ilrak's eyes nearly popped.
Shoving the corpse aside, Bran replied calmly.
"Fine. Siliyen's lackey. Thanks for holding back, guys."
Back to his normal tone, unlike the robotic act.
Recalling Siliyen's office, Bran cursed.
"Haa... didn't expect spells right off the bat. Gave me chills."
Would've been toast without prep.
Lucky he'd faced her as a player before.
Figured she'd recruit—brutally direct, though.
Alerts piled up.
Consumed elixir made from half-moon petals. Magic resistance rises for duration!
Overcame magical pressure for the first time. Tenacity of the Weed activates.
Mental strength growth rate greatly increases!
Proide's potion helped big time.
Grown mental fortitude and pure mana stocked in his heart repelled even the otherworldly presence he'd failed before.
Five days of brutal training paid off.
Kael sniffled.
"Br-Bran... hng. You okay?"
"Yeah. Focus—stay quiet a sec."
Bran patted Kael's head with one hand, working controls with the other.
Player knowledge shone again.
Tap tap!
Hit basement and top floor buttons together, then floor 4 four times.
[Moving to Magitech Golem Lab.]
Mechanical voice chimed as elevator descended.
Finally, breathing room.
Bran swept sweat from his face, turning to Kael and Ilrak.
"Let's go. While Siliyen thinks she puppeted me, we finish this."
Things escalated faster than planned, but manageable.
Impromptu plan tweaks gonna tweak.
Rebel symbol? Death rattles?
"Eat shit."
Doom averted.