Failed To Abandon the Villain - Chapter 15

After circling the room and finding no doors, Valetta had no choice but to accept reality.

‘The Mage’s Tower… the top floor.’

She could only assume this was what the novel described as Reinhardt’s chamber. It had been mentioned several times in the story.

Reinhardt often positioned a chair by the window, sitting there to gaze at the human world below while dispensing trials and solutions as if he were a deity.

Though he now occupied the position of the Mage’s Tower’s master, he was destined to awaken as a transcendent being before long. A being referred to as a “transcendent” was one who had surpassed the limits of human power.

“Are you awake?”

“Ah!”

Startled by the sudden voice, Valetta whirled around.

Valetta flinched violently at the harsh, metallic voice. Forcing her stiff body to turn, she saw a figure cloaked entirely in a deep green robe, its hood concealing its face. The man was semi-transparent, and the background faintly showed through his form.

As Valetta narrowed her eyes in suspicion and took a step back, the figure spoke again.

“If you are hungry, my Lord has ordered that I provide you with a meal.”

“I want to leave this place,” Valetta replied flatly.

“That is not possible.”

“You managed to come in, so there must be a way out.”

“That is not possible,” he repeated.

Valetta pressed her hand against her forehead, frustrated by the figure’s mechanical responses.

She knew who this was. The so-called Ghost of the Mage’s Tower, the Tower’s Sentinel, Caretaker of the Tower, an attachment to the Tower, a worthless being. He was described by many names, and none of them flattering.

But the truth was different. This figure was one of the twelve mages who had built the Mage’s Tower. He had loved the tower so much that he poured half of his magical power into it, transforming himself into a being neither fully alive nor dead.

Caspellios.

That name appeared in historical records, and the novel revealed his true identity near its end—thanks to Reinhardt, who recognized his real worth.

“Not that it stopped people from treating him like a servant,” Valetta thought with a sigh.

She knew that trying to win over Caspellios might be a way out of this place, but she doubted Reinhardt would let him go unscathed if she succeeded.

“So, you plan to keep me locked up here?”

“That is for the Lord to decide.”

“I had no say in this,” Valetta said, crossing her arms.

Caspellios fell silent, offering no response. He simply stood in place, his translucent form unmoving, gazing at her as if he were an immovable fixture.

Unable to stand the oppressive silence, Valetta spoke again.

“Let me out.”

“That is not possible.”

“Then call Reinhardt,” she demanded.

As soon as the words left her mouth, the floor beneath her feet lit up, and a moment later, Reinhardt appeared. He was immaculate, his face and hands free of any lingering bloodstains. Spotting Valetta, he broke into a bright smile.

“You woke up earlier than I expected, my dear master.”

The corners of Reinhardt’s eyes curved beautifully as he smiled. Despite the change in his station, he didn’t appear much different from the days when he had called himself her slave.

He approached her with slow, deliberate steps, his gaze fixed on her. Valetta tilted her head up to meet his eyes.

“I don’t want to stay here. Let me leave,” she said plainly.

“So direct, as always, my master.”

“I’ve told you countless times, I am not your master,” she retorted coldly.

Reinhardt chuckled softly at her sharp tone. He knew that much already. Yet, every time he addressed her as “master,” she would make a specific expression she seemed unaware of—a look of disdain, almost as if she were disgusted or tired of him.

Reinhardt had always been curious about the true meaning behind that look.

“Leave,” Reinhardt said, his eyes fixed on Valetta, though the command was clearly not directed at her.

Valetta quickly realized he was speaking to Caspellios, who still stood motionless behind her.

“Yes,” came the reply.

Caspellios, ever loyal to the Master of the Mage’s Tower, obeyed Reinhardt’s orders without question—not because Reinhardt was Reinhardt, but because he was the current master of the tower.

Valetta’s gaze lingered briefly on Caspellios as he disappeared, then shifted back to Reinhardt.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“…Not really.”

“Then how about some tea?”

With a smooth motion of his hand, Reinhardt swept the air from left to right. The previously empty room transformed; a round, white marble table and chairs appeared as if they had always been there.

Effortlessly, Reinhardt lifted a steaming teapot and poured tea into two delicate cups. Placing one in front of the chair he had pulled out, he turned to Valetta, who stood staring at him.

“Please, sit,” he said, his smile curving in a perfect arc.

Valetta let out a sigh and sat down, her reluctance plain in her expression. Despite her obvious discomfort, Reinhardt’s smile didn’t falter—it seemed almost amused by her resistance.

“Let me leave,” she said again.

“To go where?” Reinhardt shrugged, his voice calm and unhurried. “You have nowhere to go.”

The words hit their mark. Valetta clamped her mouth shut. She knew he was right. With the Delight Estate destroyed, she had no home, no sanctuary.

Reinhardt took his time lifting his teacup, his movements unhurried. The faint scars on his fingers—remnants of his days as a slave—caught Valetta’s attention. Her eyes flicked over them briefly before she turned her head away as if she hadn’t noticed.

“Anywhere would be better than here,” she muttered.

“You’ve got that backwards, my dear master,” Reinhardt said with a soft chuckle. “Anywhere else would be worse than here.”

Valetta found herself momentarily at a loss for words, silenced by the confident certainty in his voice. She knew that while life in the tower guaranteed her basic needs, it came at the cost of constant dread—never knowing when Reinhardt might decide to end her life.

“Do you know something, my master?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“…What?”

“I was supposed to kill you.”

Valetta froze, her gaze snapping up to meet his.

“The Master of the Mage’s Tower must do that. When I first met you, I wanted to kill you even then.”

He said it with a serene, almost innocent smile, his eyes narrowing slightly in a way that belied his words.

Valetta’s face hardened. His calmness as he casually discussed her death—smiling as though confessing a harmless secret—was unnerving. Yet, his words carried a weight that was impossible to ignore.

“Then why didn’t you kill me?” Valetta asked.

“Because you were the only one who strayed from the path,” Reinhardt replied calmly.

“What?”

“You avoided every reason I had to kill you. Every single one.”

The cryptic remark carried a hint of clarity, like a fog beginning to lift. Valetta’s hand, which had been reaching for her teacup to soothe her dry throat, froze in midair. Slowly, she raised her eyes from the cup to him.

What is he talking about?

Her dazed mind latched onto the question, trying to make sense of his words.

“Hm? Why did you do it, my master?” Reinhardt asked, smiling faintly.

“Why did you keep your distance from me? Why did you push me away?”

As he spoke, he reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. His touch was careful, but the weight of his words was far more arresting than the gesture itself.

Valetta stiffened. Knowing the original story, she felt a chill run down her spine. He couldn’t know about that, could he? Yet the way he phrased his question made it sound as though he were privy to all the truths she was trying to keep hidden.

“I was always kind to you, wasn’t I?” he asked softly.

“…You were kind to everyone,” she said flatly. “Because you had to survive.”

“You, though—I was sincere with you,” he said, his voice unwavering.

Valetta scoffed lightly, biting back a bitter laugh. She didn’t believe him. Reinhardt may have shown kindness to her, but she was certain it had always been calculated—a strategy to ensure his survival, nothing more.

“You were foolish enough to waste precious alchemical potions on a mere slave. And for that, you spent an entire day locked up without food,” he continued, his tone calm but edged with something sharper.

“…”

“And when you ordered those fools to stop tormenting me, they mocked your words, treating them as a joke.”

Reinhardt’s gaze was unyielding, as if daring her to refute the memories he described. Valetta clenched her jaw, her mind racing.

She had always dismissed those actions as fleeting, insignificant. Yet to Reinhardt, they had clearly left a profound mark.

“You…”

“When you refused to do something you didn’t want and were unjustly strung up and left hanging. When you were locked up for nights and starved because you were accused of sneaking out without permission. When you were caught secretly caring for an animal and were ordered to kill it, but instead let it go.”

As Reinhardt listed each memory in a slow, deliberate tone, Valetta’s fists clenched tightly. Her eyes widened in shock and disbelief.

She hadn’t expected him to remember.

The shameful, humiliating moments she had buried deep inside—her darkest, most embarrassing history—were still vivid in his mind.

Her body trembled slightly as she tried to suppress her emotions.

“And despite all of it, the kind master always kept silent. No matter what injustice you suffered, no matter that you were treated not much better than a slave.”

His words, laced with a strange intensity, made her pupils waver.

“Always so detached, as if it wasn’t even your life, but someone else’s.”

“That’s…”

Kind master? She couldn’t tell if he was praising her or mocking her. Frustrated, Valetta ran her hands over her face a few times, trying to compose herself.

“I wanted to rip those bastards limb from limb,” Reinhardt continued, his voice dropping to a sinister tone. “Alive. I wanted to keep them breathing, cut them to pieces, and leave them with nothing but their torsos and heads to watch as their severed parts were fed to beasts.”

“…”

Valetta was left speechless by his raw, brutal honesty.

“And none of this was ever supposed to happen.”

“What?”

“None of it. Not these feelings I’ve experienced, not the things you’ve done—all of it was completely outside what was planned. Unexpected.”

“What are you talking about?” Valetta asked cautiously, her voice edged with tension.

Reinhardt simply smiled in response, offering no explanation.

“I tried to win your favor,” he said softly. “But my cold-hearted master wouldn’t even spare me a glance.”

“…Hey,” Valetta began, her voice laced with a mixture of discomfort and irritation.

“Reinhardt,” she finally said, her tone firmer now.

The moment she spoke his name, Reinhardt’s expression shifted slightly. His voice was resolute as he replied, “Whatever the reason you’ve avoided saying my name until now, it feels like it’s over. Isn’t it?”

“…”

“Isn’t it time you finally called me by my name, master?”