083 An Ancient Tale
"Do as you wish, so long as it does not endanger the foundation of the White Tower Kingdom or disrupt its order. You are free to act as you please." The king, having heard the answers from the two, felt reassured and made a gesture to dismiss them.
"Wait, I still have a question," Lance said, showing no intention of leaving. He pressed down on her shoulder, signaling her not to move, his tone gentle yet firm. "I've always wondered—since the White Tower Kingdom possesses hidden strength enough to quell a coup, why wait until casualties occur before finally deciding to act?"
She was held in her seat by Lance and could not leave even if she wanted to. She had tried to struggle, but feeling Lance’s unusual trembling, she gave up, instead continually seeking to comfort him with her gaze, hoping to soothe his agitation.
Seeing Lance’s emotional response and trembling hand, His Majesty assumed Lance was furious over her near-death experience. Without much thought, he began to explain the events of that day.
The White Tower Kingdom indeed possesses a secret weapon that cannot be used lightly. This weapon is ancient, experienced, powerful, enduring, and unwavering, but it comes with a restriction—it will only appear when the royal authority of the White Tower Kingdom faces extreme peril.
"Wait," she interrupted, puzzled. "Royal authority? So this weapon protects only each generation of the king, not the kingdom itself?"
Bradlick was not angered by her abrupt interruption; he merely nodded calmly in agreement.
The White Tower is more than a spiritual pillar—it is a tower with power, dignity, and ideals.
Its ideal, of course, is to shelter the line of kings who built their own White Tower Kingdom, ensuring their descendants rule for generations.
This seemingly unattainable dream is not so difficult for the White Tower. Over the long years of its construction, the White Tower, established as a spiritual faith, absorbed the power of belief from all corners, as well as the war souls of those who perished in battle to protect it. These two potent forces are sealed within the tower, their strength stored and untouched for many years.
A century ago, the era of the Four Elemental Mages dawned. These mighty mages dominated the world with their overwhelming power and even founded their own nation. They demanded exorbitant taxes from neighboring countries and behaved as they pleased within their borders, while the oppressed could only endure in silence.
Yet oppression has its limits—even a rabbit will leap when cornered, let alone mages and warriors born with blood in their veins. One day, some unknown catalyst brought together those strong enough to resist the Four Elemental Mages. Among them, an elderly mage tremblingly opened a long-sealed spellbook, revealing a long-forgotten magical array.
The name of this array is lost to history. All people knew was that it was their only hope, though its activation requirements were... formidable.
It required the lives and souls of one hundred high-ranking mages and warriors as the seed, four artifacts endowed with 'spirit' as anchors, and the magic of four top-tier mages from different elements, expended to their last reserves to complete this enormous array.
The array, harsh as it was, proved powerful. Its most evident effect was to forcibly seal the overwhelming powers that threatened the balance of the realm, a seal paid for with the blood and souls of countless beings weaker than that force.
With no better option, the people secretly gathered the four spirited artifacts and found a secluded, suitable place for the array. Four highly esteemed mages of each element exhausted their magic to inscribe the vast spell circle. The two hundred volunteers, mages and warriors, ended their lives the instant the array was completed; their blood soaked the earth, the four artifacts at the cardinal points shone simultaneously, and torrents of magic surged from the array, flooding every corner.
The Four Elemental Mages, busy with their pleasures, suddenly felt themselves seized by an unknown force. All their magic seemed sealed, and even their souls felt as if they were being torn from their bodies. In panic, they sought their leaders' help, but the stronger the mage, the greater the impact. By the time the few remaining mages found their chief, his soul had been absorbed and sealed by the array, leaving only a powerless corpse.
Thus, the once-glorious Four Elemental Mages were annihilated in an instant.
To avoid repeating the tragedy, the newly founded mage nations decreed that practicing Four Elemental Magic was forbidden, punishable by death regardless of identity. Since few possessed the innate qualities required for such magic, and all related books were burned, the memory of the Four Elemental Mages faded over time.
But even now, should anyone be found practicing such magic, execution remains the law.
At this point, she swallowed nervously.
The king, expressionless, glanced at her and continued.
This should have been the end, but the array’s range was so vast that even the White Tower Kingdom’s strongest force, the royal Alt Guard known as 'born warriors,' were caught within it.
Because of the excessive power of the Four Elemental Mages, the Alt Guard had also suffered under their oppression, and no one expected them to be counted as a disruptive force.
Watching his guards fall one by one, the king was heartbroken. He racked his brains and devised a desperate solution—he had his guards take refuge inside the White Tower.
Perhaps the Tower’s formidable defenses and accumulated power of millennia would work wonders? That was his hope, and the result was indeed extraordinary—the White Tower proved miraculous.
In the struggle for souls with the magical array, the White Tower ultimately prevailed through its amassed strength, but this victory came at a price. All the Alt family members who sought shelter within the Tower abandoned their bodies, becoming souls eternally bound to the lonely White Tower, permitted to emerge only when the royal authority of the White Tower Kingdom faces grave crisis.