Failed To Abandon the Villain - Chapter 13

“Pardon?”

Silon’s puzzled response drew a shrug from Reinhardt, who then glanced around the dining hall with her still cradled in his arms.

Nothing was left alive. Not a single soul, not even a mouse, remained in the mansion.

“Quilt, what about the matter I asked you to look into?”

“I’ve documented all of Count Delight’s corruption and illegal activities,” replied the black-haired man curtly. His short-cropped hair and stoic demeanor added to the gravity of his words.

Reinhardt didn’t bother reaching for the thick stack of papers Quilt held out. Instead, his crimson eyes flicked over them briefly before issuing his command.

“Spread them around. Someone will pick them up and make sense of it.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Without hesitation, Quilt hurled the bundled documents into the air. Dozens of pages scattered like snow, fluttering down to land on the corpses, the tables, and the blood-soaked floor.

Some pages were already beginning to soak up the pools of blood they landed in.

“We’re returning to the Tower.”

“…Are you taking her with you?”

“Yes. Any issues with that?”

Reinhardt’s sharp gaze bore into Silon, who hesitated before responding. The blue-haired man’s delicate brows furrowed, his rare beauty marred by concern.

“If it’s not for her alchemy or spirit magic, I wouldn’t recommend it. The Tower is a place only for mages. Without magic, she won’t even be able to leave the Tower.”

“Perfect,” Reinhardt said with a smirk. His red lips curved in a way that suggested he was almost looking forward to her predicament.

Otherwise, she might try anything to escape.

Reinhardt tapped his foot twice against the floor. A massive magic circle appeared beneath them, glowing brightly. It engulfed him, Valetta, Silon, and Quilt in a burst of light.

When the light faded, all that remained was the aftermath of the grisly massacre—a silent witness to the horrors of the night.

The scattered papers, haphazardly strewn about, bore testament to the night’s events.

The unprecedented annihilation of a noble house sent shockwaves through the Empire, turning even the capital upside down.

Rumors about Valetta Delight’s disappearance ran rampant, and Crown Prince Milord personally took charge of the investigation.

The curtain fell on the long and bloody night.

* * *

The view shifted dramatically. Reinhardt stood in the middle of the forest, tilting his head back to gaze upward. The sky was a vivid blue, blanketed with white clouds. The ground was covered in a chaotic mix of weeds and unidentifiable flowers.

Beneath the flora lay an invisible magic circle etched into the earth. It was the only gateway to the Mage’s Tower.

“The Mage’s Tower is directly above us.”

“Yes,” Reinhardt replied. Slowly, he tilted his head further back. Though obscured by the clouds, the Mage’s Tower resided high in the sky.

In truth, calling it a “tower” was something of a misnomer; it was more accurately described as a small city for mages—a floating island in the sky. At its center stood the Mage’s Tower.

Mages harbored a profound mistrust of humans, deeming cohabitation with them unfeasible. Thus, they established the Mage’s Tower. Initially, it had been a single floating tower. However, over time, the mages realized the tower alone could no longer accommodate them all.

As the years passed, the land around the tower expanded, forming an unclaimed floating city of small islands. This development led to the Mage’s Tower frequently being referred to as the Mage’s City.

Only those possessing magical power could identify the entrance, meaning unawakened mages could not even request aid from the tower.

In other words, a non-magical individual entering the Mage’s Tower without a mage’s assistance would find themselves trapped there, unable to leave the city.

“Are you sure it’s all right to bring her along?” Ceylon asked again. Taking someone without their consent was already questionable, but the Mage’s Tower harbored a strong bias against non-magical humans, or “Socoros.”

“She’s been playing master over me for the past decade, so it’s only fair I get to be her master now, don’t you think?” Reinhardt chuckled mischievously, adjusting his hold on the woman. Tightening his grip slightly, he slowly channeled his mana into the ground.

As the previously unremarkable earth absorbed his magic, a vast, hidden magic circle emerged. From the circle, pillars of light erupted, engulfing the four of them in an instant.

“Welcome, my lord,” a harsh yet polite voice, like the sound of metal scraping, greeted them.

Momentarily blinded by the intense light, Reinhardt slowly opened his eyes. The scene had changed.

They now stood before an enormous tower with soaring spires. The cylindrical, gray structure pierced through the clouds, stretching far into the sky.

Strangely, the tower had neither windows nor a visible entrance. At a glance, it seemed like an enormous cylindrical structure planted arbitrarily into the ground.

“Who’s that?”

Reinhardt frowned, narrowing his eyes. Before him stood a figure clad in a deep green robe that obscured its face. Yet, it was not something one could call human—it was semi-transparent, to the point where the tower behind it was faintly visible.

“It is the caretaker of the Mage’s Tower and its sentinel,” Silon explained calmly. “A being loyal only to the Lord.”

Reinhardt glanced at the translucent, robed figure briefly before turning away, clearly uninterested. The sentinel of the Mage’s Tower was of no concern to him at the moment.

“Lead us to the sunniest and most spacious room,” he ordered curtly. “Preferably somewhere difficult to leave.”

At his dry command, the sentinel bowed deeply. Since its initial greeting, it had not uttered another word. With a snap of its fingers, a dark entrance materialized.

“Only the sentinel and the Lord are capable of opening the way into the Mage’s Tower,” Silon explained. “Anyone wishing to enter the tower must pass through the sentinel.”

“And leaving?” Reinhardt asked.

“For that, anyone with mana can use teleportation magic to exit,” Silon replied.

“And without mana?” Reinhardt’s gaze shifted briefly to Valetta, who remained soundly asleep in his arms, oblivious to the world. The case of a Spirit Mage was somewhat unique.

“You’re referring to the person in your arms, I presume. To answer plainly, she will not be able to leave the tower without your permission, my Lord.”

“Hmm.” A satisfied smirk curved Reinhardt’s lips. The knowledge that what he had long desired was now firmly within his grasp greatly pleased him.

“Fundamentally, the way mages and Spirit Mages handle mana is completely different,” Silon continued. “Mages forcibly extract and absorb mana from nature, while Spirit Mages ask for permission, offer compensation, and borrow power.”

“Indeed,” Reinhardt agreed.

Reinhardt nodded, acknowledging the explanation. It was information he already knew at a basic level.

“The Mage’s Tower is a space constructed entirely from a mage’s mana. Spirits will not manifest here, meaning their power cannot be borrowed,” Silon elaborated.

Reinhardt gave another small nod.

Emerging from the corridor, they entered a vast chamber, as spacious as the training grounds of the imperial palace. Guided by the sentinel, they arrived at what seemed to be the very top of the tower.

The walls were made entirely of glass, allowing sunlight to pour in. Beyond the windows, clouds stretched endlessly across the sky. At the center of the room stood a large bed, solitary and imposing. There were no visible doors anywhere in sight.

“This is the tower’s uppermost floor,” the sentinel explained in its rasping, metallic voice. “Only the Lord, myself, and those granted explicit permission by the Lord may enter. Without the Lord’s approval, leaving this floor is impossible.”

Reinhardt walked straight to the bed and gently laid her upon it. Valetta shifted uncomfortably at the sudden change in position but soon settled back into her steady breathing.

“I really can’t wait to see her reaction when she wakes up,” Reinhardt murmured with a chuckle, running his thumb lightly over her pale neck. He occasionally felt a dangerous urge to snap it. Though he knew that if he did, the brilliance in her eyes would never return, the thought still tempted him.

“Don’t you agree, my lady?” he whispered, brushing a kiss against the ends of her hair before tucking the blanket around her.

Silon and Quilt stood silently, their brows furrowed as they watched the uninvited presence on the bed. The topmost floor was traditionally reserved for the tower’s master. Seeing a non-mage, a mere “Socoro,” occupying it left them anything but pleased.

Noticing their gaze, Reinhardt turned and offered a smile—one that didn’t reach his eyes, its incongruity unsettling.

“I’d like to think it’s unnecessary to say this, but if you were to lay an unwelcome hand on what is mine and I were to find out…”

Reinhardt’s serene tone contrasted sharply with his chilling words, making both men freeze mid-breath. The sentinel, its face obscured by its hood, gave no visible reaction.

“…I’d pull your entrails out while you’re still alive and make you chew on them yourselves. So, I’d recommend exercising caution.”

Though his voice remained light, the content of his threat was nothing short of horrifying. A glint of madness flickered in Reinhardt’s eyes.

“Then again,” he added with a soft chuckle, “that might actually be entertaining.”

His gaze lingered briefly on Valetta, brimming with possessiveness, before shifting to Silon and Quilt. The cold intensity of his stare forced both men to drop to one knee, bowing deeply in submission.

Outside, the warm morning sunlight bathed the room in a serene glow.