Episode 167
By the time Dale reached the 60th floor of the tower, he wasn’t met by a grand army of the dead.
Instead, a lone man in a hood stood before him. He wasn’t even the wizard who was supposed to guard this level.
”…Master.”
“Welcome, Lord Dale. I’ve been expecting you.”
The dark sorcerer, known as the Master, smiled as if genuinely pleased.
“It seems the Mother of Old Darkness has taken quite a liking to you.”
“Is there a particular reason you’ve come all this way?”
“Why, to have a chat with a young and brilliant lord like yourself.”
There wasn’t a soul in the Black Tower who didn’t know of this Master—or rather, this ancient being.
The Master removed his hood, revealing a face that was little more than skin stretched over bone, like a mummy on the verge of crumbling. The silhouette of his skull was starkly visible beneath the thin layer of flesh.
While Eris’s ancient lineage from the founders of Saxon was unknown, this man was a different story. He had been by the side of Saxon’s old lords and the masters of the Black Tower for generations, living an immortal life.
A Lich.
“In my youth, I despised the folly and rashness of the young.”
“Do you find my intentions disagreeable?”
Dale asked.
“Oh, not at all.”
The Master laughed, a hollow sound as if his soul were escaping.
“In the passage of time where rivers dry and mountains erode, it is the fervor of youth that turns the wheels of history.”
The power of blood. Dale swallowed quietly at those words.
“I find your vigor to breathe life into the Black Tower quite admirable.”
“Thank you for saying so.”
Dale bowed his head silently.
“But as we age and grow decrepit, all we have left is our dignity.”
The Master chuckled as if amused.
“Winning over the stubborn old fools like us is no easy task, as you well know.”
”…”
“So, please, do try to persuade me.”
The Master spoke with amusement, and Dale knew there was only one way to persuade him.
The blood of the abyss enveloped his body, and the avatar of the Shadow Lord emerged.
Before the oldest elder of the Black Tower, the highest-ranking sorcerer closest to the pinnacle of magic.
The tri-colored magic of black, red, and blue swirled intricately around his heart.
“Ah, such youthful vigor. It’s truly a sight to behold.”
The Master continued, looking at the armor of the abyss.
“Unfortunately, this old man no longer has the strength to match your vigor. Besides, settling disputes by force is no different from the Red Tower, is it?”
“You’re right.”
Dale nodded.
“The organization known as the Black Tower is ultimately a world where strength determines rank and authority.”
“Oh?”
“The number of circles, the precision of spells, the power of magic, the strength of the undead—no matter how you dress it up, the order of the Black Tower is ultimately driven by ‘power.’ So how are we any different from the Red Tower?”
“But isn’t that the world of magic?”
“That’s exactly my point.”
Dale smiled as if he had been waiting for this.
“What we pursue in the Black Tower is the power of truth, not magic. Yet, why is it that rank and status in the tower are determined solely by magical power and the number of circles?”
“Oh?”
“From the start, the spirit of our Black Tower has no need for violence. In other words…”
Dale continued.
“Those who seek the truth of the black don’t necessarily have to be sorcerers.”
”…!”
At those words, the Master’s expression turned emotionless, and the elders watching Dale clearly showed signs of unrest.
“The wisdom of the black will be granted equally to those who do not know magic.”
Dale declared.
“If magic must be used, those who can wield it will assist.”
He spoke of a radical change even the Black Tower’s elders hadn’t dared to imagine.
“Even those with fewer circles, or those who cannot use magic, will be able to reach the highest levels of the tower if they achieve results. Their ideas will bring new wisdom to our black.”
It was a revolutionary proposal that would overturn the very foundation of the tower’s organization.
“Separately, there will be a new place for those black sorcerers who purely pursue strength.”
The current organization of the Black Tower would evolve into one where wisdom alone determined everything, purely for the pursuit of truth.
However, he had no intention of abandoning the existing power structure, those who had gained their status through magical strength.
“But that will be a ‘military organization’ directly under the Duke of Saxon, not the Black Tower.”
”…”
“Instead of building flimsy defenses that wouldn’t withstand a real war, I plan to train black sorcerers for genuine combat and battle.”
Dale explained.
“They will master necromancy optimized for victory in battle and train alongside the Saxon family’s Night Raven Knights, focusing on combined arms.”
“Hahaha, this is incredible!”
The Master began to laugh uncontrollably.
“It’s so astonishing and radical that I’m at a loss for words.”
“Isn’t it reasonable?”
Dale asked.
“You asked me to persuade you, and I sincerely hope you’ll lend your strength to my cause.”
He knelt respectfully before the Master.
“Then let me ask you, young and brilliant lord.”
At that moment, the Master inquired.
“If there are elders who disagree with your vision, how will you persuade them?”
“I’ll talk and negotiate with them as much as possible. At the very least, I’ll work day and night to reach a level of understanding.”
“But if negotiations ultimately fail, what will you do?”
“As you said, the current Black Tower is no different from the Red Tower, where strength justifies everything. It’s a world of violence where a sorcerer’s power legitimizes all.”
Dale replied coldly.
“In that case, we’ll have to speak in the way of sorcerers—with strength.”
As the heir to the black, and the son of the Black Tower’s master.
“This is outrageous!”
After Dale and the Master finished their conversation, the elders of the Black Tower gathered in a chamber.
“To allow those who don’t know magic into the sacred Black Tower! It’s preposterous!”
Needless to say, there weren’t many who readily agreed with Dale’s proposal.
Meanwhile, the Shadow Lord continued to ascend the tower, overcoming its trials one by one.
Justifying everything through the strength of a sorcerer.
The defenses set up by 5-circle black sorcerers and their undead armies were utterly meaningless. They merely served as sacrifices to prove the Shadow Lord’s power before everyone.
‘I wholeheartedly agree with Lord Dale’s vision!’
But then, it happened.
Guardians of the levels began to appear, not in resistance, but in support of Dale’s vision. Not everyone opposed his ideas.
Dale’s method of reforming the Black Tower’s organization was straightforward.
Separating the cultivation of powerful sorcerers from the pursuit of truth.
“It was us.”
Watching this, the Master laughed heartily.
“The stagnation of the Black Tower wasn’t due to banning biological experiments, but because we stubborn old fools crushed the spirit of a new era.”
“But, Master!”
“Look at them. Look at the expressions of those young ones who are lighting up with agreement to the lord’s words!”
The Master spoke, unable to contain his emotion.
“I’m so ashamed and embarrassed by my stubbornness that I want to crawl into a hole.”
“But to so unilaterally discard the traditions of the black…”
“Do you have something to say to me?”
At that moment, the Master’s nearly skinless skull turned toward him. The elder, who had been about to speak, fell silent.
“Heh, it seems the lord was right.”
The Master of the Black Tower, alongside Eris, was the oldest and most powerful ancient being of the Black Tower.
And as Dale had said, this was a world where a sorcerer’s strength determined the hierarchy. According to that world’s rules, no one dared to challenge the Master.
“This old man just wants to see a new era.”
The Master said.
“And I can’t wait to see the new era that Lord Dale will bring.”
Even if he claimed he lacked the strength to oppose Dale, his true nature wouldn’t change.
At some point on the 70th floor, the resistance against the Shadow Lord ceased.
Dale finally understood what it meant.
The elders of the Black Tower, known as the Order of the Black, had finally unified their intentions.
And it was no surprise who had brought them together.
The successor of the Black ascended the tower, unhindered, climbing higher and higher.
The 71st floor, the 79th, the 86th, and then the 98th.
All except for the 100th floor, reserved for the master of the Black Tower, and the 99th, where Eris, the Black’s emissary, resided… the floor of the third-ranking guardian in the tower’s hierarchy.
“Welcome, young master.”
The elder was there.
As the guardian of the 98th floor, he was there to convey the will of the elders on behalf of the Order of the Black.
“We’ve been expecting you.”
“Thank you, Elder.”
“Oh, it’s too soon for thanks.”
But just then, the elder waved his hand with a smile.
“Is there something else you desire?”
“Indeed, there is something I truly wish for.”
With those words, the world around them was engulfed in darkness.
It was a world like an ink painting.
Everything that existed was depicted in the three-dimensional brushstrokes of an oriental painting.
In that world, a few cranes, drawn in ink, flapped their wings and took flight.
Just like the flock of crows that once soared behind the Black successor.
“Would you be so kind as to show this stubborn old man the vigor of a new era?”
The elder smiled, as if he were about to transcend to another realm.