Chapter 309: Can't Even Clear Out the Trash Properly
If the old K.G.C.C headquarters had already been considered a grotesque violation of building codes with its sheer height, then the tower Steven had just conjured into existence with his bare hands… was an outright insult to reason itself.
Not only did it completely swallow up the space where the K.G.C.C building once stood, but its spiral staircases and bizarre architecture gave it the grandeur of a "world wonder." If something like this appeared in a game, you could practically declare an automatic victory just by finishing its construction.
And looming above it all, at the very top of the tower, was that same black hole—turning, writhing, and growing ever so slowly yet unmistakably. Unlike the earlier void that had simply blocked out the sun, this one radiated an aura of palpable danger. It looked as if, at any moment, it might crash down from the heavens and consume the entire Grand Knight Territory in one catastrophic gulp.
No one dared imagine what would happen if the black hole truly grew large enough to cover the whole city. No one wanted to.
Which meant there was only one option left.
Just as Steven had declared: the only way to stop this was to ascend the tower… and defeat him.
But—was that truly something anyone could accomplish?
For the first time, the endlessly bustling Grand Knight Territory fell silent. Work, schedules, commerce—none of it mattered anymore. Every soul understood: if the man atop that tower wasn't stopped, then everything they did from this point onward would amount to nothing more than wasted effort.
And only now did they realize—those who had once taken pride in their martial strength no longer had the courage to even grip their weapons.
So, as was natural, the people turned their eyes to those they had always adored, the "stars" they had cheered for: the knights.
Surely, the Knights' Association's warriors would be like the heroes of legend, cutting through endless trials, striking down the "demon king," and saving all of Kazimierz… right?
Just as the common folk prayed for, a number of knights did indeed set out toward the tower. The journey ahead would no doubt be perilous, but should one of them succeed—then they would be immortalized as the hero of the Grand Knight Territory.
Most of these knights marched forward with dreams of fame and fortune in their hearts. Perhaps their motives were not lofty or pure, but at the very least, they dared to take the first step.
Yet… disappointment awaited.
The vast majority of the Association's titled knights—those who bore prestige and renown—made no move to participate in the assault.
They knew all too well what kind of opponent awaited them at the tower's summit. Twice already had this youth shattered their tournaments, and few who faced him had even left the hospital yet.
That boy was no opponent to be defeated. He was an impossibility.
Why risk crippling injury? Why throw their lives away?
When instead, they could use this precious time to… quietly transfer their wealth and assets to safer places.
The more one possesses, the less one wishes to lose. Wealth, above all else, was something these "knights" would never gamble.
The titled knights of the Association had already earned more than enough wealth. For them, chasing after impractical ideals was unnecessary. Why risk everything for a fool's dream? Even if they did nothing, someone else would surely try to stop the mysterious knight. Their only duty, as they saw it, was to protect the fortune they had already accumulated.
But it was precisely this decision that forced the citizens of the Grand Knight Territory to awaken to a bitter truth.
The knights they once held as idols, the symbols of pride and honor… had become this?
Only a handful of knights gathered beneath the strange white tower that now dominated the skyline. The rest—the so-called "heroes" whom the people had admired—chose instead to stand idle, watching from the safety of the sidelines.
That was the reality laid bare before every resident of Kazimierz.
Still, there was no time to grieve over shattered ideals. The only thing that mattered now was halting the spreading darkness that poured from the tower's peak.
And so, when the assembled knights rallied together to charge the base of the structure—what greeted them was not empty stone, but a line of waiting sentinels.
A host of figures stood in their way, clad in crude armor, their skin a sickly, ashen gray. Their eyes burned with hostility as they gripped weapons in hand.
It was difficult to even call them "human." Their faces and limbs mimicked humanity's form, but their torsos were perfectly squared, their heads sitting directly atop their shoulders without a neck. Identical, copy-pasted visages; massive, bulbous noses like grotesque ornaments; and clutched in their hands, gleaming axes and short crossbows that radiated unmistakable threat.
No words were exchanged. No explanation was given. It was obvious what they were—guardians of the tower. To ascend, the knights would first have to break through this wall of monstrosities.
No one knew how these creatures had come into being. No one knew their nature, nor their weaknesses. But the knights understood one thing clearly: these things had to be destroyed.
Without hesitation, the gathered warriors surged forward, weapons raised.
The battle for the tower had begun.
At the vanguard strode two figures who stood out among the rest—both past champions of the Kazimierz Major. One shone with radiance, like a living banner, cutting a path forward for his comrades. The other fought like a blood-drenched war god, cleaving through the block-headed monsters and leaving a crimson trail in his wake.
Axes swung down, but were deftly avoided. Bolts hissed through the air, only to glance harmlessly off reinforced armor. Against these two, the grotesque guardians were nothing more than fodder.
But not everyone shared their strength.
The rank-and-file knights, following behind with misplaced confidence, soon realized their mistake. What they thought were ordinary foes—mere "armed civilians" at best—were anything but.
The moment steel clashed against those square bodies, something felt… wrong.
The strength of these block-headed monsters was so absurd, one had to wonder if such power could really belong to anything even remotely human. The axes they wielded could split open knightly shields and armor with frightening ease, while their crossbow bolts were even more outrageous—fired from impossible angles, and with such force that even armored knights risked being knocked unconscious if struck.
How could anyone call these things mere monsters? This was more like fighting a regiment of elite, battle-hardened soldiers!
If not for the twin champions at the front—the Radiant Knight and the Blood Knight—cutting a path forward, breaking through would have been unthinkable.
Even so, by the time Margaret and Dikaiopolis reached the base of the tower proper, their force had been more than halved.
Some knights had fallen, but the greater number had simply lost their nerve and withdrawn. Strangely enough, the block-headed guardians seemed to have a twisted sense of honor; if a knight retreated or collapsed in defeat, they would no longer pursue the kill.
And so, the greatest cause of losses was not death, but surrender. Knights with the courage and skill to keep pressing forward… were few indeed.
Fortunately, once the vanguard broke through the surrounding blockade and set foot on the spiraling stairway that led higher into the tower, the guardians abruptly halted. Those same monsters that had fought so ferociously merely returned to their original posts, no longer lifting a weapon.
This stairway—at least for now—seemed to function as a kind of "safe zone."
"…Seriously. The more this goes on, the less I understand what that guy is even thinking."
Dikaiopolis, his crimson armor drenched in gore, let out a long sigh. Propping his massive greataxe into the ground, he exhaled deeply as he allowed his muscles a moment's respite.
As the reigning champion of the last Kazimierz Major, he was well aware of the Black Hole Knight existence—aware, and if he was honest, somewhat eager for their inevitable meeting. He didn't know if he could answer the question the Black Hole Knight sought to pose, but he could tell that all of this… was the Black Hole Knight way of seeking his own answer.
Never, however, had he imagined that this strange knight would go so far. To brazenly challenge the entire Grand Knight Territory, simply to chase after his answer?
And from the way these "rest stops" were deliberately placed between trials, it was obvious that the Black Hole Knight was enjoying himself.
That alone made the Blood Knight's curiosity burn hotter. What was it that the Black Hole Knight truly sought?
But in the end, he knew it didn't matter. Whatever the Black Hole Knight's reason was, he had to be stopped. And the one person he trusted to share that resolve—the knight he had long awaited to meet again—was surely thinking the very same thing.
Casting a sidelong glance at Margaret, the Radiant Knight, who sat silently recovering her breath beside him, Dikaiopolis made his silent guess.
Margaret, however, had no words to spare. Her gaze lingered on the interior of the tower—its vast chambers, each floor stacked three or four levels high.
If just the first trial had been this brutal… then with only the two of them and the ragged remnants of their force, could they really climb to the very top? Could they truly stop that knight?
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Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
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