Chapter 47
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 47
Chapter Title: Steel Tower (9)
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It had come to this.
The elevator doors closed.
Bran and Silien faced each other.
The silver veil that had enveloped Silien was rapidly restoring itself to its original form.
'As expected.'
Bran clicked his tongue.
The ambush hadn't worked, just as he'd predicted.
Even after slamming a full-force Heavy Strike into her, Silien's body didn't have a single scratch.
Thanks to her sturdy mana shield, one of the basics.
Unlike Rudel, who relied solely on borrowed power, this was proof she was a proper mage.
"...Lord Bran."
But the mental shock seemed considerable.
Her pale face showed none of its usual gentleness.
Her tightly pressed lips formed a stern expression as cold as a glacier.
Now she finally looked like someone from the Azure Mage Tower.
"You deceived me."
Silien snapped her fingers.
Click. The audience chamber doors locked, and a translucent barrier covered them.
Barrier of Silence.
A practical spell that prevented sound from leaking out.
"You weren't affected by Lenavir. Was that your goal from the start?"
"Something like that."
"The lab's probably destroyed by now... and Rudel's dead, right?"
Instead of answering, Bran nodded.
Silien just shrugged once, without a hint of sadness or anger.
Cold-blooded. Well, that's how they always were.
A short, awkward silence.
Silien, who had been staring at Bran, spoke up.
"...Lord Bran. Let me make you a proposal."
"A proposal."
"I'll ask just once, so answer carefully. First option: oppose me. End up resisting futilely, your body torn to shreds, your brain extracted."
Not a very appealing choice.
Silien tapped her forehead with her index finger.
"I'll flay your flesh and bones while inflicting unimaginable pain. Your remaining brain will become the core of a combat golem. Your consciousness trapped in a hunk of metal, unable to even scream, forced to kill innocent people."
"Second option?"
"Repent now and join our organization."
This was surprising.
Offering another chance here?
"I'll forgive everything. Ruining the grand plan, destroying the secret lab—all of it. If you help me from today, we can destroy Valkeros again within three years."
"You think I'm worth that much?"
"Of course. My eyes don't lie."
Her voice was full of conviction.
Silien glanced toward the door behind her.
"The people outside still don't know my true identity. Or that the lord has changed. Except for Director Leodorn, it's business as usual for them."
"...After all this, you plan to keep your position as a mage of the Steel Tower?"
"Why not? If anyone catches on, I just eliminate them. I've called in everyone useful or potentially obstructive today."
The reason for distributing those VIP invitations became clear.
To eliminate any possible variables.
It went without saying—this was all because of Bran.
Bran stuck out his tongue in admiration.
"Silien. You're a monster, as expected."
"Hehe... I'll take that as a compliment. It means I'm not bound by mortal morality."
Silien smiled with her eyes.
Her demeanor was affable, but there were no openings.
If anything, it made his chest tighten.
This must be what they called overwhelming presence.
"So. What's your answer?"
"...I..."
Bran trailed off.
Her expression brightened at his seemingly contemplative demeanor.
Honestly, if preserving his life was the goal, there was no better option.
'The Abyss route... its performance is solid.'
Safe and reliable.
Even if he saw the ending, it was uncertain if he'd return to the original world.
If he discarded his humanity, he could live a far more luxurious life under the warm backside of an outer god.
The scam-like guarantee of the veil was just a bonus.
Only one drawback.
He didn't want to.
"I'll go with the third option."
"Third?"
There was no third.
As she opened her mouth to say so, Silien shrugged.
"Huh?"
Killing intent prickled from somewhere.
Not far. Right nearby.
Silien turned and froze.
Ilrak, pupils narrowed to slits, was charging straight at her.
"This is your grave, you bitch!"
"...!!!"
Silien's eyes widened.
A blazing double-headed axe drew a red arc toward her back.
The audience chamber doors were already completely destroyed.
She hadn't heard the breaking sound because of the Barrier of Silence.
"Third."
Bran continued about the option he'd held back.
"Kill you. And we leave."
If there's no opening, make one.
That's the challenger's way.
Bam! Bran gripped his sword hilt with both hands and leaped at Silien.
"You fool...!"
Shock crossed Silien's face.
Too late to dodge. Strikes from front and back arrived simultaneously.
Kaaaaang!
The longsword and axe slammed into the mana shield from both sides.
The boss of the Steel Tower, Silien Lua, casts 'Iron Ring'!
The silver veil rippled violently.
Silien staggered from the brain-rattling impact.
This was on another level from the first attack. A faint cracking sound echoed.
Especially Dragonblood's destructive power—it was impossible to ignore.
A red welt was etched where Ilrak had struck.
"Fuck, how is it this tough?!"
Ilrak was shocked too.
The impact traveling up her arms shook her whole body.
A blow that could bisect three golems, blocked by a wall thinner than an eyelid.
"Keep pressing her!"
But this wasn't the time to be stunned.
They had to chip away at the shield while Silien was disoriented.
She was thickening the shield at impact points, but it wasn't perfect.
Bam! Bam! Boom!
Every clean hit on the barrier echoed like thunder from a quarry.
"...You came up via the waiting room elevator."
Silien muttered.
Through the shattered doors, she saw the wrecked elevator.
Ilrak must have come from there.
Bran's delayed responses had been to buy time.
The nobles gathered in the waiting room were murmuring, staring this way.
"...!"
"..."
"...?!"
Fortunately, they were far away.
No one had mustered the courage to approach yet.
But they'd surely sensed something serious was happening.
"Can't have that yet."
Silien's eyes cooled darkly.
Snap. With the flick of her fingers, an opaque force field layered over the Barrier of Silence.
"You've made a poor move, in the end."
Silien gave a wry smile.
The mana shield rippled unprecedentedly.
Cracks appearing everywhere meant its durability had dropped below half.
Almost broken.
As Bran and Ilrak exchanged glances and struck from both sides again—
Kaaaaang!
A ferocious metallic clang sent both flying back.
"Ugh."
"Shh, what the hell?!"
Their hands throbbed.
Lifting their heads, swords and shields blocked their paths.
Brutishly large. Only an ogre could wield them properly.
They were the armaments worn by the knight statues decorating the audience chamber.
"Too soon."
Bran frowned.
Silien had recovered faster than expected.
The swords and shields floating in the air signaled she was starting to fight back in earnest.
'And we haven't even broken the shield yet.'
Trouble.
The mana-coated shields resisted even numerite blades.
Bam! The wildly swung sword and shield knocked them back far.
"Kuh!"
Then, all the metal in the audience chamber began floating at once.
Weapons, clutter, even decorative statues.
Tzzzzz...
Some metals merged, reshaping into new forms.
Bran shouted.
"Incoming! Get ready!"
"Damn it, if only we could smash that one...!"
The boss fight pattern signaling the start.
Ilrak used her axe as a shield.
As Bran spread the Bloodwolf's Mantle wide to cover himself—
Kwaaaa!
All the floating metal began spinning rapidly around Silien.
"Grahhh!"
"Ugh."
Both gritted their teeth.
Felt like being tossed in a cheap blender.
Furniture and walls bore scars like claw marks from a beast.
Swinging swords alone couldn't block it.
Dozens of large and small metal pieces battered their mantled bodies.
"Hurts like a bitch."
The silver lining: they had at least prepared minimally.
Defense-boosting elixir made their skin tough.
The Bloodwolf leather mantle blocked lethal blows.
Still hurt. It wouldn't pierce, but the impacts transmitted fully.
"You fucking bitch! This is too much!"
Ilrak spat curses.
Without a mantle, she had to protect herself more primitively.
Kakakakakakang!
Sparks flew repeatedly over her axe-shield, metal clangs resounding.
Iron Ring.
A cheat skill that shredded enemies just for entering its radius—offense and defense in one.
Even more absurd: it was a stationary AoE she could lay down and ignore.
Shweeee!
Sharpened daggers tore through the metal storm, launching out.
"Ilrak! Incoming!"
"I see it!"
Unlike the mere spinning debris, these were directly controlled by Silien.
The daggers flew on clearly different trajectories, aiming for vitals.
Like hypersonic missiles amid a barrage of dumb rockets.
Kaang!
Ilrak swung her axe to deflect the daggers and growled.
"We can't keep this up! Gotta break through!"
Spot on.
Otherwise, they'd just get ground down.
And positionally, breaking through fell to him, not Ilrak.
As Bran narrowed his eyes to gauge the angle—
Kwaaaang!
A steel chair rocketed through the storm, smashing Ilrak.
"Gahk!"
Ilrak flew back.
Not just the weight—the speed was insane. It was the lord's former seat, massive iron.
Before she could rise—
Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!
Metal chunks pelted her relentlessly, burying her alive.
"Ilrak!"
Ilrak's form vanished completely.
Her tail stuck out from under the chair, thrashing wildly side to side.
Endless added metal blocked her escape.
Amid the whirlwind of metal wind, Silien's voice rang out.
"I knew it would come to this. No need to use the power granted by the Great One."
"Silien...!"
"Too cluttered here. Shall we change venues?"
Her usual gentle tone.
Suddenly, the iron storm died down.
Kadududuk.
Most spinning metal clumped together in place.
Weapons, knight statues, the steel chair crushing Ilrak.
Bam! Ilrak finally shook off the debris and sprang up.
"Puha...! Thought I was dead!"
Thankfully, no major injuries.
But no time for relief.
Silien finished a 3-meter sphere and pushed her fingers upward.
Kwaaaaang!
The steel sphere rocketed up like a rocket, smashing through the ceiling.
"What...!"
Ilrak's eyes widened.
The high ceiling breached, revealing blue sky.
Afternoon sunlight poured into the audience chamber.
Metal consumed for the sphere had stilled the storm completely.
The two exchanged glances and charged, kicking off the ground.
"Now!"
The perfect opening.
As bloodied Bran and Ilrak slammed into the silver veil—
Kwaduduk!
Pipes burst from the floor like snakes, coiling around them.
"Wh-what?!"
"This is."
A trap. Their stances crumbled instantly.
Not inescapable, but Silien's goal wasn't restraint anyway.
She gestured upward again.
Whoosh!
Bran and Ilrak shot up through the hole.
More precisely, the pipes wrapping them.
A low voice echoed from the receding floor below.
"I'll take that as choosing the first option."
Destination: the open rooftop.
Bran reached into his inner pocket, feeling something ping-pong-ball sized.
Despite the constant beating, amazingly, things had gone to plan so far.
Yes. So far.