A brute?
Me?
John fell into thought, wondering whether he should shut this chatterbox up with a Tongue-Tying Curse.
Seeing that Emily already seemed resigned, John simply lowered the dagger.
He asked casually, "What is this place? And what's that Black-Iron Blood Marquis you keep talking about?"
Emily had no hope left, nor any reason to keep secrets.
"This is the Black Hawk Tower. The independent faction of wizards once conducted research here. Later, they undertook a reckless experiment, which caused every wizard in the tower to vanish."
She knew this place well. Rolling her eyes at John, she added, "As for the Black-Iron Blood Marquis—that's a very dangerous creature."
"He was once a viscount of this city. Later, he took me hostage and forced his way into the Black Hawk Tower, trying to seize the treasures hidden within."
At this, Emily sneered. "But he was wrong. He thought controlling wizards meant he could control magic. Instead, he was consumed and turned into the Blood Marquis."
"He never expected I would use magic to seal this place, trapping him inside with no way out."
"The Blood Marquis's weakness is sound. With the last of my magic, I summoned a banshee to block his path and sealed the staff at the exit."
Emily gave a mocking laugh at John. "But you, brute, ruined everything. Now it's over. If the Blood Marquis finds a body, no one will be able to stop him."
But John was lost in thought. He looked up at Emily strangely and asked, "The Blood Marquis you're talking about—is that the one made entirely of blood? The one who claimed his ancestor was Dracula?"
"Exactly, that's him. He's been searching for me everywhere. Luckily, I hid on the eighth floor, and he couldn't find me," Emily replied, unaware anything was off.
John's expression turned odd. "If it's that guy, then he should already be dead."
"Don't be ridiculous, there's no way he…" Emily glared at him in annoyance.
But soon she realized something. In terror, she asked, "When you came up here… you didn't run into the Blood Marquis?"
"I did," John nodded honestly. "I killed him."
"Impossible!" Emily burst out. "You're lying to me—an ordinary person could never kill him."
Then her gaze fell on the sword strapped to John's back. Shocked, she cried out, "You're a witcher? No… no, even a witcher couldn't kill him."
Emily began to suspect John was bluffing to drive her out of hiding.
But John silently raised his hand, and a small flame bloomed in his palm.
"I burned him."
That single sentence laid out the truth.
Emily fell into confusion. How could an exorcist be using magic?
True, some exorcists had a few tricks, but usually just things like shockwaves.
In the end, Emily had no choice but to accept reality.
She spoke in disbelief, as if questioning reality itself: "The one who trapped me in this tower for so long… was just killed like that?"
"Um, so... About Dracula. Do we have to kill him too?" John asked with seriousness.
"Bah, that lunatic just read too many fictional stories after becoming a Blood monster. There isn't a Dracula; that's the tale told to the children to behave. Still, that tale is more believable than the reality of me talking to a Wizard Witcher.."
Then something occurred to her. "The one who cast magic yesterday—that was you?"
John thought back. He had only used a simple Cleaning Charm.
That left Emily speechless. She had assumed a wizard had arrived, so she'd opened the door on purpose, hoping to join forces with him against the Blood Marquis.
Instead, what came in wasn't a wizard at all, but a magical witcher—and he went and killed the Blood Marquis outright.
It made all her previous efforts feel worthless.
"By the way, where's the ninth floor of this tower?" John still hadn't found the entrance.
"There is no ninth floor," Emily shot back.
John's thoughts stirred. No ninth floor?
Emily had been here for a long time. Though hiding from the Blood Marquis, she'd learned much about the place.
The Blood Marquis mostly stayed on the fifth floor, trying to use the knowledge there to escape the Black Hawk Tower.
The upper floors became Emily's territory to explore.
She was certain: there was no ninth floor.
This tower had originally been built by the independent faction of wizards. Unlike other wizards, they believed in conquering cities to raise an army of their own.
Unfortunately, their plan was never carried out. Because of a failed experiment, they all vanished.
Emily's background wasn't ordinary—she was a royal wizard of her own country.
She had originally been tricked into coming here under the pretense of a magical creature causing trouble, only to be taken hostage by the Black-Iron Viscount and dragged into the Black Hawk Tower.
At the same time, she had her own intention of investigating the tower.
On the seventh floor, she placed a notebook on the table and said, "This is everything I've been able to gather about the Black Hawk Tower. Witcher, since you defeated the Blood Marquis, I don't mind sharing a bit with you."
John opened it. Inside were Emily's collected notes from the tower's records.
One peculiar term caught his eye.
"Monolith?"
He looked up at Emily, hoping for an explanation.
Emily didn't know either. "It seems the Black Hawk Tower's main research was focused on the monolith. That so-called ninth floor you're looking for should be where their monolith studies took place."
"The disappearance of those wizards was most likely related to it."
John nodded at her words—then quite naturally slipped the notebook into his pocket.
Emily's eyes widened. "What are you doing?"
"Isn't this my payment?" John waved dismissively. "I'll skip the money—this will settle the debt."
Calling me a groundhog and a brute, huh?
I'm not the kind to hold grudges—usually, I settle them on the spot.
Emily clawed and flailed, trying to snatch the notebook back, but John subdued her with one hand.
In the end, with no other choice, Emily promised she would make another copy for him.
…
The two of them stepped out of the Black Tower.
Emily had been gone for far too long; she needed to hurry back and report to her king.
"If you truly want to know about the ninth floor, then head to the capital. Someone there might know," Emily said before leaving.
She tried to buy the staff from John, but he knew she was hiding something.
Her goal was the staff—something left behind by that independent wizard.
But the key within it was already in his possession. The staff itself was now useless.
Besides, John wasn't suited for it anyway—he was accustomed to using a wand.
So he simply opened his lion's mouth wide, demanding such a high price that Emily not only had to walk back to the capital on foot, but also owed him a large sum of gold.
Though the banshee and the Blood Marquis were dealt with, the gloom over Konsang had yet to lift.
John knew the reason—the Black Tower itself. As long as it stood, Kongsang would always remain under its shadow.
Staring at the Black Tower, John ultimately decided not to interfere with it.
He wasn't sure if destroying the tower might cause even worse consequences.
When he returned to the tavern, he found it unusually lively that day.
Heiberg's smile hadn't left his face, as mug after mug of ale brought in a steady flow of copper and silver coins.
It was a complete change from yesterday.
Libby even got a free drink from the cheerful Heiberg. Trying alcohol for the first time, the spicy burn left Libby's eyes brimming with tears.
When he saw John return, Libby immediately ran over.
"The banshee is dead—we heard her scream before she died!" he said excitedly.
Whether from drink or excitement, Libby's cheeks were flushed red.
John, hearing this, remembered that the deaf horse was still over by the statue.
He was just about to go look when he saw the horse in the stable, leisurely chewing on hay.
Noticing John's complete lack of surprise, Libby whispered, "Was it you, Yadani?"
John knew exactly what he was referring to, and he smiled. "What do you think?"
That only made Libby more excited. He kept chasing after John, demanding to know how he did it.
At the same time, Libby made a decision.
He decided to give the horse to John, which took John by surprise.
"With the banshee gone, my position won't last much longer," Libby said with a bitter smile. "I can't afford to keep it."
Hearing this, John sympathetically patted Libby on the shoulder.
But Libby wasn't discouraged. Compared to the banshee, losing his job was nothing.
He insisted on giving the horse away for free, refusing to take a single coin.
"Even if no one else knows, I'll still be grateful for what you've done," Libby said firmly.
"All right, then I'll accept it."
John agreed, watching as Libby hurried off, clutching his drink like a treasure.
Later that night, he found the busy Heiberg.
By the next morning—
John patted the deaf horse on the head. Libby had never given it a name, since it couldn't hear.
"I'll call you Polo," John said.
Then he mounted Polo and rode out of Konsang.
Libby packed up his belongings in the stable, though in truth he didn't have much.
Without a job, he couldn't even afford a single copper coin for rent.
Just as he was about to leave, Heiberg stopped him.
"Where do you think you're going?" Heiberg demanded with a dark expression.
Libby froze, flustered, stammering, "I—I don't have money to pay the rent."
Heiberg grabbed him—not to throw him out, but to haul him into the tavern and dump him in one of the inn's rooms.
"From now on, you live here," Heiberg barked harshly, putting on a tough front. "You get one day off. Starting tomorrow, you work at the tavern!"
"But… didn't you say I was useless, that you'd never hire me?" Libby asked in a small voice.
Heiberg glared at him. "With so many people coming to drink, do you want me to work myself to death?"
"Be here tomorrow. And listen—if you break anything, you're paying for it!"
With that, Heiberg stormed out of the room.
Libby felt like he was dreaming.
Lying on the bed, he suddenly felt something poking uncomfortably against him. Sitting up, he checked.
On the bed lay five gold coins—the money from selling the horse.
...
For a wizard, getting lost was hardly possible.
John rode his horse along treacherous, winding mountain paths.
Following the map, he entered a stretch of forest.
"This place is quite a lot like the Forbidden Forest," he murmured.
Flipping through the book Emily had given him, John fell into thought.
"The kingdom, huh."
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