The Cold Tower
The carriage moved swiftly and steadily.
Randolph opened his eyes and saw Collins sitting beside him, cleaning the sword they had obtained from the Never Return Hall earlier.
However, he realized that he was bound by a strong chain and could barely move.
He could not remember what had happened or how he had ended up in this situation.
The last thing he remembered was his demon appearing, killing the Deer Demon, and then…
He struggled against the chains but could not break free.
“Why am I like this?” he asked Collins, who sat calmly nearby.
He knew Collins had always been strict with him, and their relationship was difficult to define.
At times, they seemed like a king and his knight; at other times, like a master and his student.
“You went out of control, so I had to use this on you,” Collins replied plainly.
“Don’t you know I’m your king?!” Randolph shouted.
Collins turned to him calmly.
“Don’t you know I’m your master? Besides, we’re not in the castle,” Collins teased.
Randolph sighed.
“Master,” he said with a forced smile.
“Can you take this off?”
The chains immediately fell apart.
“I’ve always wondered if ice power is the only ability you possess,” Randolph muttered.
“Why do you say that?” Collins asked, still cleaning the sword.
“Because everything seems too easy for you.”
“That’s because I’m your master.”
The air suddenly began to grow colder.
The noise from the streets disappeared completely.
Randolph slowly opened the curtain and was greeted by a blast of icy air that flushed his cheeks pink.
The road ahead was covered in frost, and the air itself seemed white with cold.
The carriage stopped before the entrance gate of the Cold Tower.
Since they intended to use the Flame Sword, the Cold Tower was the only place capable of suppressing its overwhelming heat.
They entered through the gate together.
Frozen figures lay scattered across the ground.
The fountain in the center of the compound was completely frozen.
The entire place seemed cursed by eternal winter.
From the ancient statues and structures surrounding the tower, it appeared that this had once been the home of someone of great importance.
Collins led him into the Cold Hall.
It was the coldest place Randolph had ever visited.
He was still surprised that Collins seemed completely unaffected by the temperature while he himself was already freezing.
Randolph sat on the concrete floor, only to discover that it was strangely warm.
Both of his hands were raised and bound by cold chains attached to the walls.
He had removed his shirt and was bare-chested.
Collins slowly unsheathed the Flame Sword.
Red flames immediately appeared along its blade.
The heat radiating from it was so intense that Randolph could feel its warmth instantly.
Without hesitation, Collins drove the sword into Randolph’s chest.
Boom!
An explosion of energy burst through the hall.
The violent clash between the sword’s fiery power and the energy within Randolph sent Collins flying backward.
He crashed hard against the opposite wall.
Collins staggered to his feet and looked toward Randolph.
A storm of energy surrounded him.
His eyes were closed.
The sword remained embedded in his chest.
Now there was only one question left.
Was he still alive?
Collins’ heart pounded rapidly.
He had never been this afraid before.
The thought of Randolph dying twisted his chest painfully.
For the first time in years, he felt close to tears.
Then…
Randolph’s hands shook.
Slowly, he raised his head.
Boom!
His eyes flew open, glowing with a brilliant purple light.
Collins sighed in relief and stood up completely.
Closing his eyes, he placed two fingers against his forehead.
A small glowing sphere emerged from him.
It was the Dream Ball.
He had nurtured it since childhood, waiting for the day Randolph would begin the Fourth Stage.
The ball floated toward Randolph.
Passing through the raging energy surrounding him, it gently touched his forehead.
Boom!
Another surge of power exploded outward.
Hours later, the energy finally began to calm.
If Randolph could survive this for fifty minutes, he would succeed.
But if he remained trapped within the process for too long, success would no longer be guaranteed.
“Randolph…”
For the first time, Collins called him by his name.
His eyes were filled with determination.
“Please come out alive.”