The Problematic Child of the Magic Tower
Chapter 33: Magic Power Plant (3)
Whirrr!
The unexpected flight was far from comfortable.
“Urgh!”
The Heavenly Silkworm thrashed about violently, solely intending to shake him off.
If the rope he clung to hadn't been made of celestial silk, it would have snapped at least ten times by now.
‘And my spine feels like it’s about to snap too...! Once I get back, I’m tripling my core workouts.’
Even now, the results of his intermittent muscle training were proving their worth.
Had he still been in the frail body he woke up with initially, he would never have endured this.
-Screeeech!
The Heavenly Silkworm glanced briefly at him, then abruptly shot upward.
Whoosh!
Piercing through the clouds in an instant, Oscar squinted his eyes.
The crimson waves of clouds dyed by the sunset were breathtaking, but there was no time to appreciate the view.
The cold air at high altitude was numbing his skin rapidly, and it felt like his lungs were freezing over.
‘But it’s the same for that thing. It won’t be able to endure here for long.’
As if to prove his thoughts, the Heavenly Silkworm suddenly spun around to face him.
-Screeeee!
A victorious laugh escaped its mouth.
‘Of course. Up here, Veronica can’t interfere, and I have no space to evade its attacks.’
-Screech.
Its gaze fixated on his right hand.
He was still gripping the gun, but barely — holding on through sheer willpower with no strength to pull the trigger.
The creature laughed smugly as if it knew this well.
It then opened its maw wide.
‘The bite force of the Heavenly Silkworm can crush steel.’
There was no way he could avoid those densely packed teeth with his body in its current state.
As he accepted this uncomfortable truth, the taut thread slackened.
The Heavenly Silkworm was now plunging toward him at a terrifying speed.
“......Phew.”
Tilting his head back, Oscar gazed at the sunset-colored clouds above him and let out a faint sigh.
His lips moved.
“...They say humans have two eyes so they can see both the strengths and weaknesses of others.”
“And two ears so they can listen twice as much as they speak.”
Without hesitation, he released the thread in his left hand — the lifeline that had been keeping him alive.
-Screeeeeee!
The Heavenly Silkworm screeched with laughter as it approached him with its maw wide open.
Was it laughing at the sight of its opponent surrendering to death, or rejoicing in the success of its plan?
As its massive, sharp teeth came close enough to touch, Oscar continued.
“And so, the reason humans have two hands is...”
The left hand, now free, took the gun from his faltering right.
Then, he aimed it directly at the gaping maw of the Heavenly Silkworm — at a range where he could not possibly miss.
“...so they can land one more blow.”
The fleeting look of panic that flashed across the creature's dark pupils was all he needed to see.
Oscar’s left index finger decisively pulled the trigger.
Bang!
Of course, his left shoulder also took the brunt of the recoil, shattering painfully.
Both shoulders throbbed in agony, and his face was splattered with the creature’s bodily fluids, but Oscar grinned.
“But your head is still just one, isn’t it? So this is my win, you bug.”
Splat!
The Heavenly Silkworm’s head disappeared entirely.
Its massive body trembled violently before going limp.
Plummeting rapidly, Oscar muttered to himself as he captured the stunning sunset in his eyes.
“...Save me, Veronica.”
He had already adjusted his trajectory to fall toward the power plant’s roof.
But from here on, there was nothing more he could do.
His mana had run completely dry.
As the power plant drew nearer at an alarming speed, his consciousness began to fade.
Moments later, as his body broke through the roof of the power plant, a sharp voice rang out.
“Air Cushion! Gust Hands!”
Fwoooosh!
The Air Cushion spell caught Oscar mid-fall, drastically slowing his descent.
A pair of conjured hands rose and wrapped around him gently, like petals.
Thud!
A cloud of dust billowed as he landed.
Veronica, limping slightly, approached him.
“Hey, hey! Are you alive? Or...”
Her trembling voice faltered as she reached out and grabbed the cold fabric of Oscar’s collar, shaking him cautiously.
‘If this idiot dies on me like this, then I...’
Just as she bit her lip and lowered her head, Oscar, who had been lying still, suddenly opened his eyes wide.
He glanced around and exhaled raggedly.
“Haah... haah. Am I alive?”
“...Do you even need to ask, you lunatic?!”
Thwack!
Her fist landed on his shoulder, drawing a yelp of pain from Oscar.
What followed was a long barrage of worried scolding mixed with insults.
“Oscar! Veronica! Are you safe?!”
“...Elder, I think I’ve gone deaf in one ear now.”
As he confirmed the arrival of the rescue team from the White Tower, led by Elder Maxim...
Oscar finally let go of his consciousness.
“Tower Master! Tower Master!”
Standing at the edge of a cliff, staring at the ashen fortress in the distance, Oscar slowly turned his head.
The subordinate who had succeeded in catching his attention spoke.
“The final line of defense has fallen.”
“...Are you sure?”
“See for yourself.”
Majiro Wilson, one of the two 8th-level mages in the Magic Tower and known as its mastermind, activated his unique spell, Eye of the Sky.
Hundreds of miles away, a vivid image of the battlefield appeared before them.
For a moment, Oscar silently observed the sight of his allies retreating in perfect unison.
Then Majiro spoke.
“Seeing the overwhelming size of the demon army, they must have concluded that holding the line was futile. They’ll likely keep retreating.”
“How far?”
“...If I were them, I’d fall back to Simon Gorge, which is favorable for defense.”
Simon Gorge.
Oscar rubbed his temple wearily.
“Worst-case scenario.”
“It certainly is.”
The path to Simon Gorge led through their own territory, Sirin.
Majiro cautiously asked,
“It’s a blatant threat, but what will you do?”
“Ignore it.”
The one who answered was the other 8th-level mage, Radan Lockwood, also known as the White Lion.
Wearing the head of a white lion he had hunted himself, he spoke resolutely.
“Retreating now is exactly what they want.”
“...Are you serious? If we don’t go back, the people and mages of Sirin will all die.”
“But if we don’t press forward, the chance to kill the Grand Emperor will be lost forever.”
“Enough.”
Oscar silenced the two, who often clashed due to their differing perspectives.
He glanced around.
Over a hundred subordinates were waiting solely for his decision.
Most of them would probably want to go back.
Back to the Tower, to their family and friends in the fief.
Oscar was no exception to this.
His gaze turned back to the ashen fortress, his expression a bit forlorn.
‘You've given us a tough dilemma, Emperor.'
For weeks, they'd gone without food and rest, traversing this desolate land for one reason alone—to assassinate the Demon Emperor, who had been fatally wounded in battle.
'He's in that fortress right now.'
The enemy likely sensed his presence, and thus they were issuing threats, mobilizing their forces.
Telling him to go back.
He'd lose everything precious to him by tonight if he didn't.
'I...'
Oscar, lost in deep contemplation, bit his lip and cast a communication spell.
A familiar face appeared before him.
[Master of the Tower? What brings you here at this hour?]
"Deputy Master Marlon, I have orders."
[...Yes, please go ahead.]
Sensing the gravity of the situation, the old man’s gaze grew steely.
"Immediately evacuate all residents of the city into the Tower. Request reinforcements from the Imperial Palace, and activate every defensive magic array set up within the Tower."
"......Are you serious, Master of the Tower?"
At Majiro’s question, he replied in the calmest tone he could muster.
"If I return now, I can save the Tower and my people, yes."
But in that time, the Emperor would heal from his injuries, and the chance to kill him would disappear forever.
And if that happened, it would take less than three years for humanity to face its end.
A bitter smile crept up on Oscar's lips.
"This is a cruel dilemma."
This situation was crafted with a vicious malice, forcing either the White Tower or humanity to be sacrificed.
"......In that case, rather than a temporary survival, it’s better to open a path to a lasting tomorrow."
That was the answer he had decided upon.
"Are you sure you won't regret this decision?"
Regret.
He probably would.
In fact, he certainly would.
How could he not, when he was sacrificing everything he held dear for a greater cause?
This decision would lead to the Tower's invaluable records and treasures, amassed over centuries, being burned and destroyed.
The people of the fief would die.
He would undoubtedly carry this regret and blame himself endlessly for this choice.
'But...'
Someone had to be sacrificed.
It didn’t necessarily have to be him and the White Tower, but they were the ones most likely to succeed.
With a pained smile, Oscar responded.
"Perhaps. But I’ll never voice that regret."
"Ah, I wouldn’t know."
Seeing that Majiro, who knew his nature, reluctantly agreed, his voice came through the communicator.
[I, too, will only follow the Master of the Tower’s decision.]
"Thank you, Marlon. I’m counting on you."
[It’s my honor. Finally, this old man gets a task worthy of him... Oh, Master of the Tower, your disciples are clamoring to speak with you. Shall I put them on?]
Thinking of his rabbit-like disciples, he nodded.
"Put them on."
No sooner had he spoken than a soft, chubby face appeared on the screen—his youngest disciple, Sasha, only five years old.
[Master! When are you coming back?]
"Our dear Sasha, I’ll return after a few more nights."
[How many more nights do I have to wait?]
"Hmm, let’s say about a hundred nights, just to be safe."
[That’s a bit too many... Can’t you come back tomorrow?]
His heart wavered as he saw Sasha’s eyes begin to well up.
"There’s just too much work to do, but I’ll return as soon as possible."
[Master! Then should I come over there? You always say to combine our strengths when there’s a tough job!]
At that moment, his second disciple, Gilliot, pushed down on Sasha’s head and barged in.
[Hey, don’t squish my head! Dummy!]
[Oh really? Look at the manners on you. Who’s the dummy here? You don’t even have your front teeth.]
[Waaah!]
But soon enough, his eldest disciple, Lloyd, appeared to mediate, his demeanor far more mature than his nine years.
[What are you two doing? The Master is watching. Gilliot, apologize first. Why’d you make her cry?]
[She cries at the drop of a hat; you know that, too. Why are you acting like this?]
[But this time, you pressed her head first.]
[It wasn’t even that hard...]
[Waaaaah! It hurt!]
He couldn’t tell if this was the White Tower or a daycare, it was such a chaotic mess.
After finally settling the quarrel, Lloyd spoke with an unusually dignified look for his age.
[Master. Don’t worry about us here. I’m here, after all.]
"Yes, as I always say..."
[When you’re not here, I have to take care of the younger ones. Right?]
He already knew, even without being reminded.
As he looked at him with pride in his eyes, Lloyd carefully extended his pinky finger.
"Another promise?"
[Promise you’ll return after a hundred nights of sleep.]
That promise-loving nature of his.
When Oscar interlocked their pinky fingers, Lloyd’s face brightened.
[It’s a promise. You’ll come back for sure.]
"Yes, I promised."
He would absolutely return.
As a faint smile appeared on his lips, he suddenly heard—
[...Then why didn’t you keep your promise?]
A shocking sight unfolded: blood-red tears spilled from Lloyd's large, round eyes.
Oscar felt his heart drop for a moment, stunned.
Blood oozed through the communication screen and, in an instant, smeared his hand.

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