Meanwhile, within a grand, circular chamber, situated at the very top of the tower, one would find Vlorine, the purple-eyed Witch with a pubescent physique.

She was seated on a sofa, facing another, more mature, purple-eyed witch, a woman with short brown hair.

The ceiling was high, and the room was bathed in the barrier's golden glow let in by arched iron-and-glass windows.

Both parties seemed to be absorbed in an odd board game reminiscent of chess yet vastly different.

"It is my win, Tower Mistress," Vlorine hummed as she moved a piece, prompting a small but rigid nod from the Tower Mistress. "It is indeed, Senior."

"It looks to me like she let you win, Senior," a familiar voice called out, its tone dim.

Looking to the source of this voice one would notice Calista, the blind oracle, seated on a wooden chair with a book in hand, which was odd if one considered the fact that she was blindfolded.

This was not the only book, as they were everywhere in this room. Floor-to-ceiling black oak bookshelves, crammed with leather-bound tomes, scroll cases, and folded parchments.

In response to Calista's accusations, the Tower Mistress smiled dryly. "Surely you jest, Miss Calista, I would never-"

"It doesn't really matter," Vlorine stretched and stood up. "A win, is a win for me."

Upon hearing those words, Calista scoffed, letting her head drop as she resumed her reading. The Tower Mistress, for her part, let out a small sigh, looking like a visitor in her own home.

Vlorine, on the other hand, stood up and walked towards a large, polished obsidian table taking up much of the room's space.

This table was covered in glass alembics bubbling with colored liquids, small heaps of black crystal stones that had a certain feeling to them, and of course, a large book for record-keeping purposes.

"You sure are wealthy," Vlorine muttered, observing the heaps of back stone.

"Being the Tower Mistress does come with its privileges, Senior," the Tower Mistress said with a simpering smile as she stood hurrying to Vlorine's side. "Do you see anything that interests you?"

Shaking her head, Vlorine said. "Not necessarily. I just don't understand why all you young scholars seem to have the same impossible goal. You must understand that there is no way to harness the powers of a void shard beyond their proven use."

"Yes, I understand, Senior, I'll clear this up right away," the Tower Mistress said without much protest.

"Hm," Vlorine shook her head. "No need, you'll probably just continue your research the moment I'm gone, my god what is it with you young practitioners and ass kissing, you see her," Vlorine gestured to Calista. "That's why I like her, she's what a Witch should be, she's graceful, bold, she's not afraid of me-"

"Ohh no I'm terrified of you, Senior," Calista interjected before saying. "I just have the understanding that you'd be unwilling to kill me due to my position as the Archduke's attendant, after all what we've offered you for this mission is too valuable to pass up, even for you."

With Calista's words, the room went quiet, too quiet, with The Tower Mistress pausing slightly, cold sweat flowing down her forehead. 'She's dead.'

"See, she's completely unrestrained, so much so that I could just make her suffer unimaginable pain for the rest of the trip," Vlorine forced a smile, her eyes twitching slightly. "Surely the Archduke can't go back on his word if you remain, technically, unharmed."

Upon hearing those words, even Calista stilled for a bit, her throat moving slightly, she seemed to note that she had gone too far.

Looking back at the lab table, Vlorine said to the Tower Mistress. "I've known people with far more resources than you, darling, but they all failed."

Saying that, Vlorine turned a crystal stone over in her hand, continuing. "I know the allure remains potent, even after all these years. Our civilization understands so much of hell energy. We could create weapons, technological marvels... if we could only integrate it. But it simply doesn't work that way."

The Tower Mistress seemed a bit hesitant, but she spoke soon after, "B-but," she stammered, "we've already achieved this to an extent, look at the weapons of the Thornak Empire, metals integrated with hell energy-"

"A natural process that occurred in intense heat, over hundreds of thousands of years, all they did was harness the powers already stored in the metal." Vlorine intervened. "It is the same with cursed plants or objects; they've all been nurtured for a long time by powers eclipsing your understanding, powers that will-"

Suddenly the woman paused, turning to a window, her purple eyes squinted at something unseen.

"It would seem that you are under attack, Tower Mistress," Vlorine observed. The Tower Mistress spun toward the windows, and her face paled.

As though spotting something horrifying, she ran to a door in the far wall that led to her private living quarters.

Upon opening it, one would see a four-poster bed with deep crimson curtains and silk sheets, a bird cage housing a messenger kite, and a small but well-equipped cooking nook with copper pots, a cast-iron stove, and shelves of spices.

Atop the bed lay what looked to be a brass pipe, but if one looked closer they would discover that it was a telescope, exactly what the Tower Mistress was after.

Grabbing the thing, she rushed back to her workspace and used the telescope to peer out the window.

Through the device, she saw shadows: riders, countless riders, darkening the open sky. They were nothing like the peaceful merchants or travelers she was used to.

These riders littered the sky, numbering hundreds of beasts alone, each carrying two to five people.

But that was nothing compared to the states of the roaring black sea. Before the Tower Mistress's eyes rode a massive, double-hulled canoe some two hundred feet in length.

Against all reason, this canoe, no, its size mocked this name, this monstrous ship rode the wave like a surfboard, trembling as it was rocked to the point of capsizing, but it didn't.

On its sides, tens of figures could be seen performing a strange dance while a central figure stood stopping a wooden pole, seemingly barking orders; the distance made it unclear.

Smaller versions of these ships made their way along its side, and overall the entire fleet numbered in the hundreds.

"My God," the Tower Mistress breathed, her eyes shaking slightly. "Pirates! We're under attack!"

With this, she rushed to her control board at the corner of the room, a smooth, darkwood console embedded with brass levers and a telegraph key.

Fingers tense, the Tower Mistress stabbed at the telegraph key (quick, sharp taps for dots, and deliberate holds for dashes). The rhythm was urgent:

"L ·–·· | O ––– | C –·–· | K –·– | D –·· | O ––– | W ·–– | N –·"

A bead of sweat rolled down her temple as the final dash hummed through the wires, the message was sent.

In all this, both Calista and Vlorine seemed rather unperturbed and just watched as the Tower Master pulled down two of the levers.

A rush of steam could then be heard flowing through the pipe, before-

"Chooooo!"

A sudden sound similar to the cry of a train resounded across the tower, alarming everyone to the presence of enemies.

---------

Meanwhile, a few minutes before this, Mr. Valen had decided to explore the tower for the source of this voice.

He attracted attention as he stepped out of his cell, but no one spoke; they all had their problems to deal with.

Soon, Mr. Valen was out of the slave quarters, and upon the stairwell, where a single green-eyed man stood watch, a permanent slave forced to work in the tower.

Seeing the guard, Mr. Valen paused slightly, 'I'm not supposed to be moving around, the only reason Dynatós was allowed before was so he could come and get me, do I even know where I'm going?'

"Help. Me." That strange voice sounded out again, but this time it came not from every and no direction, but from above, as though it was answering his questions.

With this revelation, Mr. Valen narrowed his eyes, 'The Whisper Stalker promised me ten points if I find the source of this voice, a significant boost if I do say so myself, compared to what I will have to do to gain this many points at once, this seems to be the most easily achievable.'

«Now for this man, let's see attempting to incapacitate a even a normal human would be difficult even a precise strike would take them out for only few minutes and it's not even guaranteed, this man is obviously not human, so that's out of the table, I could kill him, but that would just be unnecessary, and risky, perhaps a diversion.»

With that thought, Mr. Valen chipped off a bit of the wall and flicked his fingers, aiming at a metal pipe at the other end of the hall.

"Tang!"

Suddenly, the jarring sound shocked the slave into alertness, his gaze trailing towards the source of that sound, his foot firm as he walked towards it.

Using this opportunity, Mr. Valen slipped through, his steps as quiet as possible.

Now on the stairwell, the man made his way up, to the next floor, climbing stair after stair, a spiral that just went on, until he reached the next floor.

This time, another slave guard stood by the exit, but Mr. Valen just walked through, his steps firm and confident.

Seeing him, the slave narrowed his eyes, but did not bother to stop him, 'Vilo let him through? Must have a valid reason then,' the guard figured.

The slaves residing in the slave quarters were ultimately guests in the end, and it was by their masters' permission that the tower guards could confine them to a single room.

That being said, if a slave was let through, that would mean that he had spoken to a guard who agreed with his reason.

Or at least that was how Dynatós had explained it to him in one of his many rambles.

He was now in a warmly lit hallway with rooms lining the walls, and he even noted a few well-dressed waiters carrying trays of food or drinks.

None of them paid him any mind though, as it was not their job to care about the likes of him.

His appearance at the moment was unsightly, a slave with long, messy hair, sandals, and tattered, damp clothing; he even had a stink about him that made people avoid his form.

Suddenly-

"Chooooo!"

An alarm like this hiss of a train tore through the silent hallways, shocking all who heard it, and in that moment, chaos erupted.

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