The End of Your Arrogance - Chapter 27.2

“Your Highness, shall we proceed with the plan now? Both of you can also be moved through magic,” Rene asked.

“No, Rene. We will proceed on foot towards the Tower of Penance tonight,” Ilya replied.

Rene tilted her head, a frown creasing her brow. “Why? If we move secretly in the dead of night, we risk arousing suspicion.”

Ilya’s lips curled into a sly smile. “Precisely. That way, they will fall for the trap we lay.” A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes, as one corner of his mouth twitched upwards in amusement.

“By the way, what of Lady Luten?” Rene queried, concern evident in her voice.

As they spoke, a melody wafted towards them from a distance. Ilya and Nazz both turned to the source of the sound, a tune that was not meant to be heard from within the confines of the tower. A young woman, dressed in a simple frock, was making her way towards them.

Nazz stepped forward to offer assistance, but the woman merely brushed past him and made her way to the window. She perched on the sill, humming the tune that echoed through the air.

Rene asked with worry, “Is Lady Luten still in the same state?”

“Yes,” Ilya replied with a heavy sigh. “She awakened as soon as we arrived at the Grand Duchy, but…she has been silent ever since. Every day, she merely gazes out the window.”

Ilya let out a long sigh, defeat written all over his face. “It appears that we cannot expect anything from the lady at this moment. Contact Count Luten and have him retrieve her,” he said, resigning himself to the fact that they would not be able to glean any information from her.

* * *

That night, Ilya and Nazz rendezvoused at the entrance to the Tower of Penance. The torchlight flickered upon Nazz’s ashen face, causing him to appear ghostly. Ilya stepped inside first, with Nazz trailing behind him in silence.

“Nazz, have you been followed?” Ilya asked, his voice low and wary.

Nazz nodded, his voice shaking as he replied, “Yes, I wasn’t sure who it was, but someone was following me. It could either be a skilled assassin, or…”

He trailed off, unwilling to complete his thought.

“A Black Forest Knight,” Ilya finished for him, his voice resolute.

Nazz stopped in his tracks, staring at Ilya’s back as he led the way.

“Were you suspicious from the start? That there must be a traitor among the Knights?” Nazz’s voice trembled with fear.

Ilya replied, “I cannot say for certain yet. It’s possible, so we must be on guard.”

The mere mention of betrayal sent shudders down their spines. The experience of being betrayed by Maduse in Tatar had left a deep wound upon the two even though they had never trusted him, but the thought of being betrayed by a comrade they trusted, one who had their backs…it was a wound that cut even deeper.

“Let’s not worry about it just yet. We have other things to consider.” Ilya spoke in a calm, reassuring tone, effectively easing Nazz’s concerns.

The two continued their journey down the dark hallway, until they finally reached the end and saw a stack of wooden boxes. These were the boxes containing the Mandrake that they had come to retrieve.

“It arrived ahead of us,” Ilya remarked, his voice betraying his surprise.

As promised, Rene had magically moved the Mandrake to this location. It was time for Ilya and Nazz to make their move. Ilya unsheathed his knife and with a swift motion, he sliced his palm, drawing a small spurt of blood.

White light began to gather on the floor, swirling around in a magical circle that would lead them underground. The stairs leading down were hazy, obscured by the magic.

“Your Highness, allow me to carry the boxes. Your hand is injured,” Nazz offered, his frown deepening as he saw the blood still dripping from Ilya’s hand.

Nazz began to move the wooden boxes one by one, in front of the magic circle. Ilya watched with amusement as sweat formed on Nazz’s forehead from the exertion.

Ilya kicked the wooden box, sending it hurtling into the shimmering magic circle. With a dull thud, it tumbled down the staircase, disappearing into the basement below.

“Your Highness, be careful!” cried Nazz in alarm. “That’s just a wooden box! What if it gets damaged?”

“Who do you think Rene is?” Ilya asked. “Do you think that box will break easily?”

With a smirk, they kicked the remaining boxes into the circle, dusting off their hands with satisfaction. Ilya handed over the torch to Nazz, who took the lead as they descended the spiral staircase. The magic circle vanished behind them, leaving no trace of its existence.

The staircase was long and steep, twisting down into the depths of the earth. Nazz held the torch aloft, casting flickering shadows across their path, while Ilya followed in silence. The two made their way down the stairs, not a word passing between them.

“Your Highness, we have arrived,” announced Nazz. “The eagle emblem remains as we left it.”

The staircase came to an end, and the two halted before a massive door, its handle fashioned into the shape of a golden double-headed eagle. The two heads were distinct, one with a tightly closed beak, the other open wide.

“Why must all the magic in this tower demand blood?” muttered Ilya with a frown. “The wizard who designed this place must have been deranged.”

He shook his head, then hesitantly placed his blood-stained hand into the open beak of the eagle emblem.