The brilliant light slowly faded, leaving a thick, white mist as the ice lted away.
Countless white feathers filled the air like a snowstorm, fluttering down around him. One landed softly on Simon’s shoulder. Another brushed against his eye before drifting limply to the floor. He stared at it, his pupils trembling, then looked up.
The dungeon master that had nearly destroyed the Ivory Tower was being freed. As the ice of the ’Frozen Clock’ receded, Serne’s body went limp, collapsing to the floor.
And then, the light was gone.
An oppressive silence fell. The fluttering feathers vanished like spring snow. The magic that had pinned Simon’s arms dissolved, and the telepathic link to his undead was restored, Pier’s voice a faint echo in his mind.
His legs gave out, and Simon crumpled to his knees.
"No." His lips trembled. "No! No! No!"
Scrambling forward like a man possessed, he gathered Serne’s fallen form into his arms. Her proud, ivory hair had faded to a dull gray, her lips were blue, and her skin was as dry and brittle as a mummy’s.
Her hand rose to cup his cheek. A weak whisper escaped her pale lips.
"Please."
With one last, sorrowful smile, her arm fell lifelessly to the floor.
Simon bit his lip until he tasted blood, a silent scream tearing through him.
’You...!’
She, who had always seed to care for no one but herself...
’Why you...!’
...had sacrificed herself for everyone. For irin, and for him.
As he held her, his breath catching in his throat, Simon’s bloodshot eyes hardened with a cold fire. For her sake, he couldn’t afford to break. He looked at the Frozen Clock.
The ice was nearly gone, two-thirds of its body exposed, but it remained still, the seal not yet completely broken.
[I understand how you feel, but you must hurry!] the Ghost of Ti’s voice urged. [Soone is coming to the one-hundredth floor!]
Simon scrambled behind the massive clock. The ghost waved his hand, tearing a piece from the air itself and draping it over Simon like an invisible blanket.
Slow, heavy footsteps echoed through the chamber, followed by the sound of sothing being dragged across the stone. Hidden beneath the ghost’s spell, Simon peered out.
’Bermude Aindark.’
Fresh, crimson blood was splattered across the Tower Master’s face. In one hand, he was dragging the bloodied, broken body of Gildon.
Bermude stopped, his gaze falling first on the nearly-unsealed clock, then on Serne’s cold, still form.
"I told you to wait. Did you not want anyone to witness your final monts?" A heavy sigh escaped his lips. "Difficult to control, even at the very end. Still, as you wished, I will spare irin."
He tossed Gildon’s body in front of the clock with a dull thud and raised a communication crystal.
"This is Bermude. What is the status of the Kizen students?"
A crackle of static answered.
"Th-This is the Guard Captain! We’ve cornered Student Council President Simon Polentia on the forty-first floor! One of his legs is gone, but he’s still running...!"
"Pathetic," Bermude spat. "All this trouble for a single student? Blow off his other leg if you must, just keep him breathing. Capture him within ten minutes."
"Yes, sir! We’ve also located rida Hugh Ikel! She’s fleeing on the twentieth floor!"
"Capture that girl unhard. In the new era without Kizen, we must avoid making an enemy of Phantastus Hugh Ikel. She is our only leverage over him."
"Understood!"
The crystal crackled as Bermude ended the call and raised a new one.
"Bermude here. Report on the status of the teleportation magic."
"This is Teleportation Center Chief Hession! All preparations will be complete within ten minutes. We can send the Tower of Ti to Roc Island at any mont."
"What is the probability of Kizen’s coordinate interference barrier deflecting the teleport?"
"It is ancient magitech. The probability of it being affected by a modern barrier formula is zero."
"Understood. Upon my next order..."
Bermude’s eyes shifted as Gildon, slumped against the Frozen Clock, coughed up bloody foam. The Tower Master looked down at him with an indifferent gaze.
"Surprisingly resilient. You’re still alive."
A voice like grinding tal rasped from Gildon’s trembling lips.
[Cough... Kizen...! You Kizen bastard...!]
"You’ve finally lost your mind. Still muttering that nonsense, Gildon?" Bermude extended a hand, and a magic circle flared to life. "Your infamy will be etched into the continent’s history. Did I not promise to make your dream of destroying Kizen a reality?"
[Kizen...! Kizen...!]
"Farewell."
With a sickening spurt, a spear of molten lava erupted from the magic circle, impaling Gildon and sinking deep into the Frozen Clock behind him. Blue blood began to ooze from the clock, which had appeared to be a simple machine.
"I suppose I should start pre-heating it if we want it to rampage in ti with the teleportation." Bermude’s eyes flashed. "Awaken, Dungeon Master."
Just as he began to form his next spell—
’Tick-tock-tick-tock!’
Two eyes snapped open in the center of the clock. They were empty, emotionless voids that sent a chill down the spine.
’Tick-tock-tick-tock-tick-tock!’
The three clock hands began to spin frantically. The dungeon master’s seal was broken.
"It activated from such a minor wound? It’s more of a crybaby than it looks," Bermude muttered, surprised. He dismissed his magic circle and raised his communication crystal. "This is Bermude. I have awakened the Frozen Clock as planned. It will enter a full rampage in three hours. Report."
The crystal crackled.
"This is the tenth-floor restoration center! Preparations for the teleportation are complete!"
Another crackle.
"This is the twentieth floor! We have captured rida Hugh Ikel!"
A third crackle.
"Th-this is the forty-first floor! Simon Polentia has... he’s disappeared!"
Bermude’s brow furrowed.
"Disappeared? You said you had him cornered."
"We did, sir! But he suddenly vanished, leaving only his uniform behind! All that’s left is an immobile zombie!"
"Fools. Never mind. The plan will begin shortly. Just get out with rida Hugh Ikel—"
Bermude’s eyes shot wide open.
’What?’
’Tick-tock-tick-tock!’
’Tick-tock-tick-tock-tick-tock-tick-tock!’
The clock hands were spinning like mad. He’d anticipated a full rampage in three hours, but it was already beginning after only a single blow. As Bermude hastily began weaving a containnt spell—
The rampaging clock’s form began to blur and distort.
"This is the first ti we’ve been properly introduced, isn’t it, Tower Master?"
Bermude’s eyes looked as if they would pop from their sockets. The body of the Frozen Clock was being siphoned into a greatsword glowing with green light. From behind it, the boy with blue-tinged hair stepped into view.
"You are...!"
"I’m sorry, but..." The Frozen Clock vanished completely, absorbed into Simon’s blade. A golden light swirled in his eyes. "This dungeon is mine now."
Simon clenched his fist.
With a deafening crack, the walls of the dungeon surged inward like a tidal wave, swallowing Bermude before he could react.
"You bastard...! How—!"
Even the tips of his outstretched fingers vanished beneath the stone. Simon yanked his clenched fist to the side.
With a final, thunderous thump, Bermude’s body was forcibly ejected from the Ivory Tower, and in the blink of an eye, the one-hundredth floor returned to normal. Panting, Simon placed his hand once more on the hilt of the Greatsword of Ruin.
’The twentieth floor, he said.’
Simon squeezed his eyes shut, his concentration sharpening to a razor’s edge.
---
"Let go of !" rida thrashed against the black magic handcuffs binding her wrists.
The guard holding her scowled.
"Walk quietly if you don’t want to get hurt!"
They were dragging her down the corridor. One of them glanced back.
’Astounding.’
Nearly twenty of the tower’s elite guards were sprawled on the floor, fast asleep. He’d dismissed them as re children, but he’d never imagined a Kizen student could be this skilled.
"I said, let go!" Thrashing wildly, rida slamd the back of her head into the guard’s nose. He let out a strangled cry and collapsed, and she bolted.
"This little brat!"
A rope of mana shot from another guard’s staff, ensnaring her legs. She fell hard, unable to resist.
"This little shit is really pissing off. Alright, let’s see who wins." His eyes bloodshot, the guard with the broken nose stalked toward her, blood streaming down his face. "What will it take to make you behave?"
Just as he grabbed her hair to haul her to her feet—
With a heavy thud, a section of the wall shot out like a stone pillar, slamming into the guard’s side.
More sections of the wall erupted from above and below, striking the remaining guards. They crashed into the opposite wall and were knocked unconscious.
"Huh?"
rida blinked, dazed. With the casters out cold, the magical cuffs and ropes binding her dissolved into nothing.
With a soft swoosh sound, the protruding walls retracted as if they had never moved. She didn’t understand what had just happened, but she knew an opportunity when she saw one. rida scrambled to her feet and started running again.
Simon collapsed to the floor with a dull ’thud’, the effort of wielding the Dungeon Master’s power having consud a great deal of his ntal energy. ’Still, that should be enough to put out the imdiate fire,’ he reasoned.
The Ghost of Ti drifted closer.
[Well done.]
"Yeah," Simon sighed. "Thanks for helping stay hidden." But as he spoke, his expression hardened, and his gaze fell. "But Serne..." His words died in his throat as his eyes shot wide open. "Huh?"
Serne’s body, which had been lying on the floor, had vanished. She should have been right there. All that remained was Girdon’s corpse.
Which ant—
"Looking for soone?"
A chill shot down Simon’s spine. Like a creaking wooden doll, he forced his head to turn. The girl with faded hair stood there, waving a hand nonchalantly.
Stunned, Simon scrambled backward.
"What’s with that reaction?" she asked, pouting as if she were sulking. "You look like you’ve seen a ghost."
Simon’s pointing finger trembled.
"You... You... How are you alive?!"
"How dramatic." She squeezed her eyes shut and plucked a feather from her clothes. Her brittle skin smoothed, returning to its natural suppleness. The faded gray of her hair bled away, replaced by a voluminous, ivory cascade that fluttered in the air like a lush field of wheat. "It’s , Serne. Do I look like the kind of woman who would die so easily?"
Simon turned, his expression dumbfounded. The Ghost of Ti was smiling, a clear sign he had known all along.
’What happened? I was sure she had to sacrifice her life to release the Absolute Seal...’
"The Absolute Seal," she scoffed, wagging a finger. "An outdated, three-hundred-year-old technique used by a re magician, not even a necromancer." She smirked. "Tis have changed. Why would I need to cast the exact sa seal? I reverse-engineered the formula with my own unique Jet-Black freezing magic and released it. The Ghost of Ti over there helped out, too."
[Hmph, that’s right!] the Ghost of Ti confird with a nod.
"You reverse-engineered the Absolute Seal to release it?" Simon stamred. "Is that even possible?"
Serne stopped walking, clasped her hands behind her back, and glanced over her shoulder with a smile.
"Did you really think my skills couldn’t surpass so outdated magic from three hundred years ago?"
"Ha." Simon let out a hollow laugh and flopped onto his back. She must have been researching this magic ever since she learned of the Absolute Seal, all to save irin. She truly knew how to toy with a person’s emotions until the very end.
"Still, I’m touched." Serne pretended to wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. "I never thought Simon would cry for ..."
"I didn’t cry!" he shouted, his face bright red.
Serne laughed at his reaction.
"You’re just so fun to tease."
"Why did you deceive ?"
"You know what they say: to deceive the enemy, you must first deceive your allies. Since I was deceiving Bermude anyway, I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone. It certainly motivated you, didn’t it?"
Simon shook his head.
"You really are the strangest person I know... Huh?"
Just then, dark red blood dripped from Serne’s nose. Startled, Simon rushed to her side.
"What—what’s wrong?"
"I never said I released it without a price," she chuckled, her voice growing weak as the strength drained from her body. "There was a fifty percent chance the magic would fail and I’d die from a Jet-Black backlash. What I said to you was sincere. I was also saying goodbye, just in case."
"You."
She swayed and leaned against him.
"Hehe. This is the first ti I’ve shown such a weak side to anyone."
"Don’t say weird things." Simon helped her sit down. She didn’t resist, allowing him to guide her. "Alright, what do we do now?"
"We’ve stopped Bermude’s plan, but now he’ll try to kill us to silence us." Serne winked. "Looks like we’re now being hunted side by side by one of the continent’s strongest. He’s probably making his way back up from the first floor as we speak."
Simon’s breath hitched.
"If we want to live, we have to escape to Nephthys," she continued.
A sudden pressure made it hard to breathe. The surprise attack had only worked once. Bermude would co at them with his full power now, and he wouldn’t be defeated so easily a second ti. After a mont of thought, Simon spoke.
"In that case, let’s adopt the Tower Master’s plan."
"How so?"
"Now that I have the Dungeon Master’s power, the threat of the ’Frozen Clock’ is gone," he explained. "We’ll activate the tower’s transfer magic and move the entire Tower of Ti to an empty lot on Roc Island."
The situation had changed. Now, to survive, it was their turn to move the tower.
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