< 138. Foundation of Hope >
'What the hell did I just hear?'
If his ears weren't deceiving him, it was legs.
Legs. Yeah, legs sound good.
Bridges over rivers could shorten travel time nicely. But that wasn't the kind of legs the Demon King had in mind.
Legs on the tower?
And that would make the tower move?
What kind of nonsense was this?
The tower was enormous. And heavy. No, this tower, forged from the powers of the Demon World, transcended mere size and weight—it was an utter enigma in every way.
To make that move?
That was—that was—
"That's an impossible, insane idea!"
Roger shouted.
No matter his god-given talent and skill for crafting,
attaching legs to the Demon King's tower and making it walk was beyond all specs.
"It won't work because you think it won't."
"I say it won't because it flat-out won't."
"Roger."
Berge's eyes turned ice-cold. Roger flinched at the low growl in his voice.
"S-sorry..."
"Are you human or dwarf?"
"Of course I'm a dwarf."
"Dwarves are craftsmen with skills surpassing humans, right?"
Roger had no idea why he was asking, but he answered with utmost sincerity.
"No human—or any other race—can match a dwarf's handiwork."
"Then what about you, Roger?"
"What's your angle?"
"Dwarves have the best skills. But among those dwarves, where do you rank? Top tier or bottom?"
Where do I rank among dwarves?
"Of course I'm the best in Berft—no, the entire continent! No one's ever outdone me, and no one ever will!"
"Then as the greatest craftsman, shouldn't you create something no one's ever dared to try?"
"Naturally! Those pathetic hacks wouldn't even dream of it, but I crank 'em out no problem!"
"Then you can build legs for the tower too."
Click.
Swept up in the moment, Roger finally snapped back to reality.
"...Th-that's a different story."
"You just said you could with your own mouth. You wouldn't be some two-faced trash 'midget' instead of a great 'dwarf,' would you?"
"N-no, of course I'm a great dwarf craftsman."
He couldn't bring himself to deny it. Not out of fear of the Demon King alone, but his pride too.
Even knowing it was walking straight into a trap.
"Then make them."
"But..."
"You'll achieve a monumental feat no one's even attempted."
"...A monumental feat."
"Every craftsman will look up to you. They'll gawk in awe and worship your masterpiece. Hell, they might even erect a golden statue of you in the heart of the continent."
Gulp—
Roger wasn't particularly into fame or honors. But like any dwarf, he yearned to forge the first, the greatest weapons and gear—even if no one noticed.
The fame of a dragon slayer who felled a dragon held no appeal, but being the craftsman who made that dragon's bane? Irresistible.
"I'll do it!"
"Good choice! That's why you're my subordinate!"
"Of course! With the greatest craftsman at your side, you'll achieve anything you set your mind to!"
Kuhahaha! The Demon King and his hero locked eyes and burst into laughter.
"Ah, first finish moving the stuff on the first floor. We'll handle the Hildean assault as planned. Then we'll draw up detailed blueprints. Report to the office when you're done."
"Yes, sir!"
The Demon King waved him off and vanished.
...I'm screwed.
It didn't take long for the fantasy-struck dwarf to face harsh reality.
* * *
As he hauled the remaining mana cannons, Roger pondered.
Was it possible?
No.
Sure, I'd love to try something like that...
Making the Demon King's tower walk? How thrilling.
But reality was brutal. Dwarven tech was the continent's most advanced.
Yet even their pinnacle—golems—topped out at 7 meters. Overwhelmingly superior to human makes, but still just that.
Nothing compared to a tower dozens of meters tall.
This wasn't like mass-producing mana cannons. It was a whole other league.
No way. I can't do it.
But having boasted he'd do it under the Demon King's wiles, backing out wasn't easy.
So he switched tactics.
Show him it's impossible so he gives up on his own.
There were endless reasons why. Easy pickings.
Facing the Demon King and his adjutant, Roger selected three.
"Moving the tower has three major problems."
"Lay 'em out."
"First, a tower that tall must weigh a ton. Its legs would need to be massive too, requiring insane amounts of materials."
"We'll route 'em through the trading company somehow."
"But it's not just one or two things. Doubtful even they could gather that much without notice—and it might expose the trading company you've poured your heart into..."
"Would it?"
Berge glanced at Gordon.
"We could disassemble and stash resources in your subspace to move them to the mountains undetected. But if they vanish without a trace, that could raise suspicions too."
"Can we gather what's needed?"
"I'd need blueprints and exact specs for a firm yes. But we've got solid distribution networks for ores and building materials from supplying mana cannon parts. The Black Knight's recent report confirms it."
"Good enough. The trading company's for using, not hiding. Pointless if I die and the tower falls. What's next?"
Roger's excuses fell flat against the clear solutions.
"Second, the core. This is the big one—legs mean it's basically a giant golem. And golems need mana cores for power. No juice, no movement, no matter the legs."
"Don't worry about that. Remember Mana's Phantom?"
"Ah...!"
Roger recalled it.
Mana's Phantom had fully integrated with the tower, powered by magic points.
"Link the legs the same way, and it'll connect automatically!"
"Exactly."
The magic point drain would be unimaginable, but worth it to dodge the empire's heroes.
"Then... it might actually work...?"
Solving the biggest hurdle so neatly, Roger blurted his true thoughts.
"Obviously. You weren't seriously thinking it wouldn't, right?"
"N-no, of course not!"
"And the third?"
"Manpower."
"Manpower?"
"Mana cannons are small; I can solo 'em. But legs? Proportional to the tower—meters, maybe dozens. Magical engineering on that scale? Impossible alone."
"Use the elves?"
"They could assist, but..."
"Need skilled craftsmen?"
"Yes. It's uncharted territory—no one's touched this level of magitech."
"Golem sorcerers, Ravinia, monsters?"
"Sorcerers and Princess Ravinia would help. But monsters? Absolutely not—never!"
"Got it. We'll round up craftsmen somehow. More the better? Dwarves ideal?"
"Yes, obviously..."
"Then with craftsmen, you can do it?"
"...Uh."
The conversation steamrolled; Roger nodded unwittingly.
"...Not without hiccups, but yeah, it could work."
Golems hinged on cores for power, but the tower's magic points could sub in...
I could build it. Etch my name in history?
Consumed by his artisan zeal for creation alone, Roger didn't realize.
History might remember him not as a great craftsman, but the Demon King's lackey.
* * *
Roger left.
"Moving the tower out of nowhere? Shocking."
"Figured you'd call it nonsense and object."
"Mana's Phantom set the precedent. Even I don't know the tower's limits."
Gordon gave a wry smile. Top graduate of Demon Clan Training Academy, yet the tower remained a mystery.
They never even taught combining magitech with towers there.
Or rather, they probably didn't know either.
The first Mahwang who designed and empowered the towers was long dead. Modern demons just inherited the legacy.
Untapped functions abounded.
Only fifty towers exist.
Ten dimensions, fifty Demon Kings total.
Even as more graduated or returned from conquests, Ma-gye never exceeded ten active dimensions.
Simple reason: no more towers.
Demon King dies, tower vanishes. Not truly destroyed— forcibly recalled to Ma-gye.
Towers were irreplaceable relics Ma-gye couldn't recreate.
"Even if Roger succeeds, it'll guzzle magic points."
Activating a Demon World power like the tower demanded a steep price.
5,154,232pt
Berge checked his magic points. Despite dumping everything into interference negation, he'd amassed a fortune in short order.
Impressive.
The surge started recently—when the tower's location went public across the continent.
He'd devoured search parties entering his domain. Killed a Star Hero, Daphne Philian.
Star Heroes symbolized heroes, humanity's hope. Slaying one sowed continental panic, but humans coped.
They buried Daphne's death.
Not entirely. They mourned him publicly.
But they overhyped Hillon Kargil.
Proclaimed victory—empire's triumph—in finding the tower.
Daphne's death shrank in scale. But rage ballooned.
Rage to avenge the tower Daphne died exposing—kill the Demon King who slew him.
Daphne became a martyr for humanity; Berge, history's greatest villain.
The Hero Guild and empire's propaganda amplified fury over grief.
That fury steadily empowered Berge.
Ten million points? Momentum suggested it was feasible.
Not ideal, but...
"This should cover it."
Link Roger's legs to the tower, move once—plenty.
"That said..."
Gordon muttered uneasily.
"What?"
"Can he really build those legs?"
"......"
"Mana's Phantom worked, so it's not impossible. But failure means..."
"We're done. But it'll succeed."
"That certain?"
"No one foresaw Mana's Phantom bonding or the tower's stealth."
"Hiding it briefly differs from moving it."
"Doesn't."
Berge was certain. This damned tower's limits remained unknown. But if legs failed to bond properly?
"Just low on magic points. Pour in more."
"......"