[No Title Provided]
The elf rescue was a success. Telepathy is a unique form of magic that transmits voices directly from mind to mind—like the telepathy people often talk about. Before stepping into the mansion, Franz sent a telepathic message to Rat Trap.
“Ahh—did you get the gift from your junior Rat Trap senior okay?”
They say perpetrators don't remember the crimes they've committed themselves. Rat Trap was a perfect example.
Cheeky bastard.
A deep furrow formed between Franz's brows. The victims lived in hell every day, yet the perp couldn't even remember and just lived comfortably. It was utterly unacceptable—something that absolutely could not be allowed.
So naturally, he couldn't let Rat Trap off easy.
“The magic trap was so crudely made that it unraveled with just a finger snap.”
Rat Trap's enraged voice echoed through Franz's mind. It was only natural—he'd openly mocked the guy's magic. Mages had sky-high confidence in their own spells. Hell, two guilds had once argued for three straight days and nights over whether fire or water attribute magic was stronger.
Anyway. When mocking a mage, it was more effective to insult their magic than the mage themselves. Especially for a cocky one like Rat Trap.
A barrage of question marks popped up in Franz's head.
'Connections with the higher-ups?'
Higher-ups meant guild masters or the old-timers who'd been around the Magic Tower forever. But no matter how hard he thought, none of them liked Rat Trap.
Out of pure curiosity, Franz asked, “So who exactly are these higher-ups of yours?”
Pfft—
Laughter burst from Franz's mouth. So the guy was lying after all. Claiming ties to Franz himself. No wonder nothing came to mind no matter how much he racked his brain—it was all made up from the start.
Franz decided to play along with the bullshit. He was curious just how far the guy could stretch it.
“Gasp— you're the tower master's senior?!”
“Ah, my bad for not recognizing such a great senior.”
Rat Trap's voice brimmed with excitement. He probably thought things were going smoothly.
What a thick-headed moron.
He'd called him “Rat Trap senior” from the start—if he'd had any brains, he'd have realized Franz knew who he was. Well, if he were smart, he wouldn't have gotten involved in this shit, let alone sell out the tower master.
Franz was starting to get bored of Rat Trap's lame imagination. Time to enjoy the best part.
“Franz Gilbert.”
“Didn't get that? The tower master you were talking about is me.”
Crime of tormenting an innocent junior. Add insolence for not remembering the victim's voice. Add betrayal for selling out the tower master. And involvement in the elf slave ring? Death sentence.
The verdict rang down in Franz's mind right then.
In a world cloaked in darkness, Hera hid behind a massive tree in the garden, watching the knights.
“Hey, you see the new slaves that came in?”
“Of course. Totally stacked top and bottom, right?”
“Think we could ask Gidric for a go?”
“Don't be stupid, idiot. Say that and you'll end up sold off as a slave yourself. Then some pig-like noblewoman buys you and milks you morning and night...”
Grind—
Hera ground her teeth at their filthy talk. Like master, like knights. The scum of the earth, polluting the world just by existing.
Hera's hand slowly stroked the tree. The massive roots began to writhe and move.
“Hey, hear that sound?”
“Yeah, I think I did...”
The knights noticed and started looking around, but it was already too late.
“The ground's splitting—guh!”
“Wha...? Wh-what—guh!”
Roots burst from the earth, piercing the knights' throats precisely. It was the power of Hera's Spirit King.
The roots that had surged up retracted to their original state, leaving the knights writhing in agony on the ground. Hissing air leaked from their punctured necks.
Hera gazed down at them coldly. Compared to the suffering of the elven slaves they'd sold, grinding them to dust wouldn't be enough... But she'd come here to rescue elves, not vent rage.
Time is of the essence.
Hera melted back into the shadows. After that, the knights guarding Gidric's mansion died one by one without a sound.
Tripped over sprouting grass, then strangled by vines. Tree branches suddenly twisted their necks. Rat swarms devoured them alive.
Thus, Hera dispatched every external guard. Cleanly, without mercy.
Basement. He said definitely the basement.
Inside the mansion, Hera searched for the path downward. Luckily, she soon found stairs leading below.
“Aaaargh—!”
As Hera approached the stairs, a scream full of agony echoed from upstairs.
Probably Franz at work.
Hera paused briefly, then continued downward. Click. Only the sound of footsteps rang loudly in the darkness.
Down the stairs, further down. At the end lay a long corridor. One wall was lined entirely with cells—so the elves were here, just as Franz said.
What crime did these elves commit to deserve being locked in a place like this...!
Anger surged in Hera, but she shook her head and swallowed it. Rescuing them came first.
Hera hurried down the corridor and stopped before one cell. Peering through the cold iron bars, she called out.
“Thou... art thou all right?!”
The elves sat on the hard floor in ragged clothes. At Hera's voice, they all looked up. Lifeless eyes began to brighten at the sight of their savior.
Dry voices escaped their lips.
“Help... us...”
“I shall free thee all right now. Just wait a moment.”
Bam!
Hera smashed the lock with her fist. It shattered instantly, and the cell door swung open.
Then—
Click.
Footsteps echoed down the corridor. Hera whipped her head toward the source. Two knights stood there, swords drawn. There were guards inside too, not just outside.
“Hic...”
A strange sound drew Hera's gaze back inside the cell. The elves had shrunk back in terror at the knights' appearance.
“Leave it to me. Fear not.”
A faint smile touched Hera's face—but only for the elves. When she turned back to the knights, her expression was ice-cold.
“You an elf too? Heh, you're no slave, so we can do whatever.”
“Look at that glare—bet she'd taste feisty.”
Hera clenched her teeth at their lewd mockery. She thrust her hand forward and gripped empty air.
Light gathered in the void, forming a bow in her grasp. The confirmed result of holding the bow created the process.
“W-wait, where'd you get th—”
“Run, you dumbass!”
The knights turned to flee, and Hera drew the bowstring. Light coalesced slowly into an arrow.
Power control...
Too strong, and the mansion might collapse.
Twang!
The arrow flew as Hera released. It pierced the fleeing knights' armor, impaling their hearts. It even embedded halfway into the brick wall.
She let go, and the bow dissolved into light.
Whew—
Hera exhaled and turned back to the cell.
“Now, let us go.”
Elf rescue operation: success.
Gidric's gaze flicked from Franz to Rat Trap—smashed into paste against the wall—and back to Franz.
He slammed his head to the floor.
“S-sorry! I won't do this again!”
“Does sorry erase your crimes?”
“I-I'll do anything! Just spare my life!”
Franz eyed the begging Gidric.
Annoying prick...
His bulging gut and bald head reminded him of someone. A black-haired Korean from 21st-century modern life who'd tormented him.
Can't leave evidence anyway.
Rumors of the Magic Tower master killing on commission would be disastrous, no matter how vile the criminal. Controversy was inevitable.
No evidence could be left. Absolutely. Not because of that old boss.
As Franz raised his hand to finish Gidric—
“I-I'll tell you everything I know! Just spare me...!”
Gidric was the lord of a commercial city. He'd know plenty about the elf slave trade.
Franz lowered his hand.
“Fine, let's hear it first. What've you got?”
Of course, he said nothing about letting him live.