Chapter 43 – Changes in the Family #1

Staring at the spotless room, Dillon's mouth fell open in astonishment. He simply couldn't comprehend what had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠happened—not with his common sense, anyway. The construction experts had insisted that this magic tower was enveloped in some mysterious power, making it impossible to restore with ordinary building techniques. They'd tried all sorts of spells, but to no avail. The mages had nearly given up, yet the youngest had fixed it up in a snap.

He'd heard the kid had a unique ability, but he never imagined it was something like this!

"Hoo..."

"This should make it usable again, right?"

"O-of course! Er, yes, of course! This place was pretty useful back in the day. Good to have it back."

"Let's finish this up and head to training."

"Anything I can help with?"

Lawrence shook his head at Dillon, whose voice trembled with emotion. Today's prepared artifacts ended here. It was a long-term project to restore things step by step—no need to rush.

Finally, 60%.

He'd only made it to 3rd Circle so far, but an extra slot was huge. Dragon Scale had strengthened, physical abilities were improving, and even artifact effects like Haste and Strength were boosted by 30%. Explosive growth, indeed.

Eager to test his enhanced powers, Lawrence turned to Dillon. No need to get lost in nostalgia until after a good sweat.

"Let's get to training."

"R-right. Yeah. Heh, this is... a miracle."

Dillon eyed Lawrence with a strange glint. How had someone this remarkable ended up in this rundown tower? Questions swirled, but time would reveal all. That's what the Iron Tower was like.

"The youngest is here!"

"Ooh! Come train with us! Try lifting this. Feels extra good today!"

As the two entered the gym, they saw mages sweating buckets, training hard. Hard to tell if this was a knight barracks or a mage academy. Lawrence spotted them using the weight plates he'd made as a test and asked while loosening up.

Did they feel the artifact's effects?

"How's it working for you?"

"Weirdly, got more power today. Could probably add a bit more weight."

"Glad to hear it."

The effects were tangible. Lawrence excused himself to change, heading back to his room. Time for serious training—time to crank up the hellish intensity again.

Crackle—!

Mana chains crushed Lawrence's body. Yeah, that's the stuff.

Hellish training recommenced. Back at the field, he powered through weights that looked heavy even for an eleven-year-old, mobilizing every muscle.

But it didn't end there. Battlefields demanded not just raw strength, but agility and stamina. Iron mages, needing focus for incantations, climbed the rocky mountain behind the tower in thick armor—jagged cliffs and all!

"B-but... do I have to do ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this too?"

"Yup. Obviously. Didn't you want to be an assassin?"

"..."

Surprisingly, Rachel was among the burly mages, clad in tight leather instead of armor, face twisted as she eyed the massive rock face. She looked utterly baffled at her predicament.

"Thought you'd just coast?"

"N-no, but... I figured I'd rely on Young Master's abilities."

"What if they fail? You'd just shrug and die?"

"No! I can't let that happen!"

She imagined it: tortured for her failures, spilling secrets that endangered Young Master Lawrence. No! Unthinkable!

"I'll do my best! ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I'll become the ultimate assassin!"

"Heh, such determination, guh."

"Let's go hard!"

"Azaaaah—!"

Mages roared, charging up the mountain. Lawrence dragged his heavy frame, starting slow. The infernal training had only just begun.

"Huff! Haaah—!"

"Just a bit more! Wait, that rough?"

"Ugh... personal circumstances, you know."

Dillon stuck by Lawrence's side. Sweet breath turned to sticky saliva flooding his mouth. His body thrashed desperately to survive. Fingers numb, limbs quaking. Cool water from above occasionally soothed his burning body—mages ahead pouring from the summit. Without it, he'd have plummeted to death long ago.

"Hooook—."

"Insane for day one."

"Tell me about it. Tower Master's got a tough one here."

Senior mages marveled at Lawrence's gritted-teeth climb. By sunset, he crested last.

"Urk! Bleeech—!"

"Heh, you alright? Frailer than expected."

"Gotta train more. Don't worry—we'll help."

"Oh, Tower Master—get this: the kid fixed up the entire abandoned first floor somehow."

Dillon scampered to Iron Hanma. Other mages' faces shifted to disbelief.

"For real!?"

"Ooh! Fixed that place!? How?!"

"If true, we can resume research there!"

Seniors swarmed Lawrence like predators on prey. One close-up noticed something.

"Hold on... is that Mana Chain?"

"Mana Chain? Where—yep, real."

"S-so... you climbed this in armor with Mana Chain?"

"..."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

The seniors who'd called him frail fell silent. Truth was, no one had trained harder than Lawrence here.

Barely clinging to life, he murmured.

"Works great. You should try it."

"Really?"

"W-wait, we'll actually die, bro! Tower Master!"

Iron Hanma, eyes half-mad, grilled Lawrence on the method. For greater strength, he'd dive into fire itself. Others' faces hardened.

The day at the tower waned.

"Dinner's just chicken breast tonight!"

Hell wasn't over yet.

#2

In the Montemer conference room, Media sorted reports before the regular meeting. Plenty on the agenda—Alzeras and Lawrence were key issues. Especially the letter from the Iron Tower, sharpening her nerves.

Riiip—!

She tore it to shreds. Their request was simple: food supplies.

"Supplies? Think I'll fall for it twice? Insolent brat."

Snorting, she headed to the meeting. Her worries had shifted from Lawrence. Just cut support and block requests. Alzeras' undeading was far graver now.

Those fools had botched everything. Loria should've died to monsters—not undead.

Why's everything going wrong? Investigation will reveal it.

Sighing, she entered. The oppressive atmosphere, Edward's terrifying pressure—she pushed through as moderator.

"Montemer regular meeting commencing."

As always, stiff and formal. The patriarch's nod whisked items along. Most followed Media's preset path. She breezed past Lawrence's proposal.

"Final item: Alzeras subjugation—"

"Hold."

Edward interrupted the natural segue to Alzeras. Unprecedented. He rarely intervened unless critical.

"Something wrong, Patriarch?"

"One item's missing."

Rumble—.

His voice threatened to shatter eardrums. Some vassals clutched their ears. Deliberate—a warning?

Media held her breath, watching Edward's slow movements. A small letter in his hand; Nikolai beside him began reading.

"A letter from the Iron Tower."

"N-no way..."

Lawrence. Two letters at once!

Cunning little...

Why hadn't she anticipated it? Fists trembled. He'd slipped it in amid Alzeras chaos.

Worse followed.

"The Iron Tower Master accepts the solo request on condition of quality meat supplies to the Iron Tower."

"Hm..."

"Solo from Iron Tower Master?"

"Not top-tier overall, but unmatched in guerrilla warfare."

"True. Battle mages, after all."

Unexpectedly positive vibe. Then, the hated name resurfaced.

"Speaking of, didn't the youngest head there?"

"Right. For the future, supporting them makes sense."

"He's a promising one now. Heh."

No. How had opinion shifted? Lawrence's name invoked in the worst way—his "defective" past fading.

North Duke's endorsement. Praise from a great mage. To them, he was prime talent.

It's unfair, Mother! I could've done it! Weepy Loras flashed; Media's gut burned black as ever.

Then, the patriarch spoke again.