Chapter 155

Chapter 155
Clang, clang, clang.

“Watch it! If you drop one, it’s coming out of your hides! These parts are worth a fortune!”

“You brainless ogre! Set it down softly!”

Rows of furnaces hissed, spitting heat and cinders into the air. Bare-chested dwarves, their muscles glistening with sweat, swung their mallets with rhythmic fury.

A river of smelted ore flowed from the forge to the assembly floor. Monstrous laborers hauled the heavy components into the freezing outdoor air, where specialized mages waited in the snow to carve intricate mana circuits, welding the pieces together into a singular form.

“Bring that plate here!”

“Step on it! The etching isn’t set yet!”

“Steady! It’s shifting to the left!”

They were massive limbs.

Eight gargantuan legs, each stretching nearly 22 meters in length.

The project was screaming toward its final phase.

And it had only taken ninety days.

“…The pace is staggering.”

Standing atop a nearby ridge, Berge surveyed the frantic scene with genuine surprise. He had driven his workers ruthlessly, but he had estimated at least six months for a project of this scale.

“I expect a thank you for my part in this,” Vivian remarked, leaning back with a smug shrug. Her arrogance was irritating, but Berge couldn’t argue with the results.

The group of demonkin she had recruited—mostly succubi—numbered in the dozens. Through them, Berge had learned a surprising fact about their kind.

Succubi were incredibly precise. Their dexterity was unmatched.

While they couldn’t compete with the raw forging power of the dwarves, they were the perfect support staff for fine-tuning the delicate machinery. Their involvement had shaved months off the timeline.

“Me as well.”

“Yes, I know. You too.”

“Scale.”

Berge winced but reached back to pluck a small shard of a scale, handing it over to Lavinia.

The chimera-maker’s presence had been vital; the heightened intellect she granted her fused beasts made the logistics far more efficient. Even Cher’s monstrous strength had been indispensable for moving the heaviest iron slabs alone.

However, the true heart of the project remained the dwarves.

They were consumed by a manic obsession to finish a masterpiece they knew would never be replicated. That professional pride, combined with Roger’s desperate need to prove his worth to Berge, had pushed the smiths to the brink of exhaustion.

“I’m relieved we’re hitting the deadline.”

“Truly.”

Only forty-eight hours prior, intelligence had confirmed that the Empire’s hero expedition was fully mobilized. The sheer magnitude of that force was something the current Berge—even with multiple lives—could not hope to withstand in a direct confrontation.

The timing was almost suspiciously perfect.

“Demon King! We are finished!”

Roger bellowed from the construction site, waving his arms. The eight mechanical legs were now positioned symmetrically around the base of the tower.

While they appeared to be part of the structure, they were currently only held in place by tension and external braces. The tower’s outer shell was far too resilient to be pierced by mundane tools.

“It’s done!”

“We actually built the damn things.”

“Think they’ll actually move?”

“Who knows? They aren’t even wired to the main engine. Just leaning against the wall.”

“Shut it! You think the Demon King has us building lawn ornaments?”

“I had my doubts, but skipping the core integration saved us a hell of a lot of time.”

“Your nose is literally bleeding from the stress, shut up.”

“Look at your eyes, you look like a corpse. Go to sleep.”

“And miss the activation? Over my dead body. You want a piece of me?”

“Bring it. I haven’t slept in a week and my hammer is feeling very unfriendly.”

The dwarves, their nerves frayed to the snapping point after three months of grueling labor, began to snarl at one another.

Berge momentarily considered punishing their insolence, but he felt uncharacteristically merciful. It was a monumental day, and they had earned a bit of leeway.

Berge stepped forward and placed a hand on the structure.

The metal, infused with Erjest, felt bitingly cold to the touch.

Then, a screen flickered to life.

⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙
[The tower has identified the magic tool ‘Spider’s Legs’ (x8) attached to the exterior.] [System confirms installation matches the owner’s intent. Initiation of tower assimilation is available.] [Required: 3,200,000 pt.] [Proceed with assimilation?]

The tower had recognized the additions.

At 400,000 points per limb, the cost was steep. However, Berge had prepared for this exact figure. He gave the mental command to proceed without a second thought.

⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙
[Points deducted.]

Energy began to hum. The tower’s internal mana flared with sudden intensity.

But then, the screen flickered red.

⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙
[Trace mana interference detected.] [Assimilation unsuccessful.] [Additional magic energy is required to override the lingering signature and finalize the bond.] [Consume 7,200,000 pt to proceed?]

“…Is—is something wrong, my Lord?”

Roger stammered, visibly shrinking as Berge’s aura suddenly turned murderous.

“No. It’s fine.”

Berge rubbed his temples, trying to ignore the throbbing in his head. This was a repeat of the Mana Ghost incident.

The ‘interference’ was the lingering essence of Hero Roger’s craftsmanship.

Fortunately, since this wasn’t purely Roger’s work, the penalty wasn’t a tenfold increase, but the sheer physical mass of the legs meant the absolute cost was still staggering.

Berge signaled his approval again.

He had spent months hoarding every scrap of magic for this moment; his reserves were deep enough to cover the hidden fee.

⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙
[Assimilation process commencing.]

A tidal wave of magical force erupted, drowning the tower and the eight titanic legs in a brilliant, binding light.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

“…Do you think he’ll make it?”

Ernyan paced her chambers, gnawing on a thumbnail. The calm, composed mask she usually wore was beginning to show cracks.

* Why not try to message him again?

“I’ve tried. There’s no response.”

He had warned her that he would be ‘offline’ while performing this final gambit.

That knowledge didn’t stop the anxiety, however, especially since the Empire had finally committed its full strength.

“I underestimated them. I didn’t think the Empire would be this reckless.”

It started with the 9th Imperial Princess, right?

Even if she had been caught dabbling in the dark arts to subvert the throne, the Empire had neutralized that threat internally.

Customarily, no nation would allow a foreign coalition to march through its borders under the guise of a ‘hero expedition.’ Such things were usually diplomatic nightmares.

The Empire, however, had turned that custom on its head. Historically, they had used such ‘expeditions’ to annex smaller territories.

To avoid a continental war, the Empire usually followed the ‘Hero’s Code’—meaning the force should consist of independent heroes, mercenaries, and specialized squads, not a standing national army.

That was the rule.

But the Empire had found a loophole.

They had assembled an expedition of 500 men—every single one of them a certified hero.

And the leadership was terrifying.

Balaf Disroad, Gillian Eint, Aina Diaphrin, and the rising star Wharton Collo.

Four ‘Stars’ were leading the charge. Even with the combined power of magic cannons, elven archers, and the support of the Lust Demon King, it was an unstoppable tide.

Had these Demon Kings been active for a decade, they might have stood a chance. But they had all been in power for less than two years.

* Oh, quit worrying.
* I don’t think he’s the type to win a head-on fight, but I doubt he’s the type to die easily either.

“…You think so?”

* That’s why he’s gone quiet, isn’t it?
* Doing that weird thing where he puts legs on his house.

“I suppose.”

Ernyan let out a soft breath, nodding to herself.

It was actually a positive sign. It meant Berge was making a move to bypass the inevitable disaster.

“He’ll pull through. He always finds a way.”

No matter how chaotic the situation became, he always managed to stabilize it. That was the Berge Dayas she had come to know.

* Yeah, like how he decided to kidnap eight more princesses right at the finish line.
* A total tyrant move.

“…Please don’t remind me.”

Ernyan’s expression twitched.

In a frantic push to maximize his magic points, Berge had gone on a raiding spree across the continent.

He had spared the northern kingdoms he planned to occupy, but he had systematically abducted princesses from all over: the four from Hyacinth months ago, the 4th from Ormus, the 3rd from Hesse, the 1st from Gaina, and finally the 1st from the Carmenia Principality within the Traparta Union.

The continent was in a state of shock, but the Empire’s looming shadow kept the victimized nations from retaliating.

* Still, you’re the special one, right? Not like Kaede, Elena, or Lavinia.

“Special how?”

* You know, the ones who act like the Demon King’s tower is a vacation home. You see him as a friend… or maybe more?

“Don’t make it sound scandalous.”

* It is scandalous… but I love it.
* ‘You were the first to reach out.’
* ‘And I was the first to take your hand.’
* ‘My First Princess.’
* Aaaaah! It’s so romantic!

“…Don’t you ever get tired of repeating that?”

* Never! It’s classic! It’s iconic!

“Be quiet. I have a schedule to keep.”

* Hmph! So cold!

The mischievous water spirit finally fell silent.

Ernyan closed her eyes, centering her breathing. A few moments later, there was a knock at the door.

Hillun Kagil entered, looking sharp in a formal suit, and offered a deep bow.

Ernyan stood, smoothing out her platinum hair.

“Your Highness, you look radiant. That dress is a masterpiece.”

The lilac fabric was elegant yet carried a hint of the exotic. It complemented her natural poise perfectly.

Her eyes, sharp and clear, were more captivating than the jewels stitched into the silk.

“You aren’t just saying that to flatter me?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Are you feeling anxious?”

“Me?”

A small, knowing smile played on Ernyan’s lips.

She was anxious, yes—but not about the event she was about to attend. Her heart was with the silent, distant Berge.

“Not at all. My brother is simply acting out because he’s losing his grip. It’s time to show him how a real sovereign behaves.”

“The nobility is divided.”

“Let them be. It makes it easier to identify the cowards and the turncoats.”

“His Majesty is watching as well.”

“I know my father. He’s irritated that I refused his latest demand. This is just a petty attempt to rattle me.”

It wasn’t a major threat. More than half the royal court had already shifted their allegiance to Ernyan Hildran.

Her competence and grace had won over the elite.

Having the legendary Hillun Kagil by her side didn’t hurt, either.

Even in a kingdom ruled by bloodlines, the will of the people couldn’t be ignored forever. With the commoners supporting Ernyan and Hillun, the nobles were following the path of least resistance.

Her brother’s current maneuver was a last-ditch effort.

He was drowning, and he was trying to drag anyone down with him.

The King’s frustration over her refusal to marry Hillun had given the Prince a small opening, but it was hollow.

Two things remained true.

Her political foundation was too deep to be uprooted by a royal tantrum.

And more importantly:

“My brother is a fool. If he really wanted to win, he’d have to kill me to change Father’s mind. But he’s too much of a coward to try.”

“It’s not just cowardice. With me as your shield and your status as a high-tier spirit mage, an assassination attempt is a suicide mission.”

“Even a King’s decree has its limits.”

“And if he did succeed, the 2nd Prince wouldn’t live long enough to wear the crown anyway.”

The King would never truly discard Ernyan Hildran. To him, she was the key to transforming the kingdom into a true empire.

“It’s time. Shall we?”

“May I have the honor of escorting you, Your Highness?”

Hillun dropped to one knee, offering his hand.

“You may.”

Ernyan took his hand and stood tall.

Together, they walked toward the grand hall.

That evening, the royal castle of Hildran held a lavish banquet to celebrate the union of the 2nd Prince and the 2nd Princess of the Hesse Kingdom.

The Tower’s Legs – 155 End