CHAPTER 78:Tower Business

"Fascinating," Hilda murmured, her voice echoing softly through the chamber like a song sung by shadows. Her eyes sparkled with childlike curiosity, a stark contrast to the withered, ancient hand that hovered just above the dwarvenstone cube. "Simply fascinating."

She knelt beside it, her fingertips gently tapping the stone casing with rhythmic precision. The sound echoed dully across the cold stone walls, like the heartbeat of a dead god trying to be remembered. "Whose heart could this be?"

Her mind—always sharp, always questioning—immediately leapt to Draghyr. It made sense, didn't it? The infamous fiend had visited the tower multiple times, long after her mother's mysterious death. But the idea fell apart just as quickly.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "Even Draghyr wouldn't be foolish enough to leave his own heart exposed... not here, not like this." Her fingers paused mid-air. "Dragons need their hearts, even immortal ones. Especially immortal ones."

Golden light danced in her pupils as she channeled mana into her vision. Her gaze pierced the dwarvenstone cube, peeling away layers of arcane insulation until once more, she saw it: the pulsing, chaotic web of dark mana threads. They swirled violently like a storm contained within flesh, and at the center—nothing.

Not silence. Not stillness. Nothing.

A void.

That, more than anything, unnerved her. In all her millennia of research and experimentation, Hilda had never encountered a void in an organ. Normally, one could decipher an item's essence—its life—by examining its mana threads, floating among atmospheric white or tinged by a dozen other colored influences. But this… this was wrong.

The void was expanding, too. Growing. Spreading. Not unlike a tide creeping toward the shore, eager to claim everything it touched.

Or rather, consume it or perhaps it was after something else entirely

"Interesting," Hilda said again, her voice low and tinged with excitement. A golden thread of mana detached from her arm, drifting toward the heart.

It disappeared.

Vanished.

Like it had never existed.

Hilda's eyes narrowed, and a slow smile crept across her lips. "Almost reminds me of Antium…" She chuckled, though the laugh lacked joy. "But that cannot be the case."

She stood and began to pace, her cloak fluttering behind her like a restless spirit. Around and around the dwarvenstone cube she went, mind racing. Then, in a flash of insight, she loosened her own mana shield slightly. Not enough to be reckless—but enough.

Immediately, several golden threads slipped free and vanished into the void.

"My suspicions were right," she muttered. Her breath fogged slightly in the cold air. She raised her hand, fingers twitching as they hovered before the heart. The light from her body extended forward, a shimmering trail crawling along her arm before resting on her palm.

A cough escaped her lipd

Unplanned and unnatural.

Then—mana.

She let some go, just a little, and it was enough. The glow faded, but something remained behind: an imprint, golden and perfect, etched into the black surface of the heart like a divine brand.

Thump.

Hilda froze.

Thump. Thump.

The beats were irregular at first, slow and unfamiliar, like an old machine creaking back to life. But they were there.

Real.

And growing stronger.

Hilda's breath hitched as she took a step back, watching the veins on the heart constrict with each pulse. The chaotic threads surrounding it grew denser, more complex. Earlier, they resembled a sieve. Now, they looked like a basket halfway woven.

It was changing. Evolving.

No… absorbing.

"This heart… it takes in all mana around it," Hilda concluded aloud. "But it hasn't grown." She paused, puzzled. "Why?"

Then the realization struck her like a lightning bolt.

"The cube," she hissed. "It's not just a seal… It's a conduit. It transfers the heart's mana into the surrounding lab when it reaches a certain threshold—preventing it from amassing too much power."

A genius mechanism… but horribly inefficient.

"Typical mother," Hilda muttered with a disappointed shake of her head. "So frugal in life, yet you built this monstrosity."

A long pause.

Then, quieter: "You must've had a reason…"

The matriarch ran her hand slowly across the stone. "Maybe… maybe the creature awakens if the heart stores too much mana." She chuckled darkly. "That would certainly explain it."

A sudden idea flickered in her mind. "There's only one race with such regeneration…"

She turned, her gaze hardening.

"Vampires."

Another beat. A sharp breath.

"But vampires don't use chaos magic," she reminded herself.

Her fingers curled tightly into a fist.

"Except one."

Crack.

Her knuckles popped as another finger moved instinctively, powered by instinct and memory.

"Let's try this out," she said softly.

Swish.

A bead of blood, red as molten ruby, formed on her fingertip and dropped into the heart's hungry maw.

Silence.

Then—shock.

Hilda staggered backward, her face turning pale, breath catching in her throat. Fear like she hadn't known in centuries gripped her soul.

The heart responded.

A red vein burst forth from its core, glowing bright and proud amid the chaotic black.

"To think…" she whispered, both terrified and entranced. "There's even a chance of bringing you back."

Her lips twisted into a wicked grin.

"But never again."

A golden arrow of fire ignited in her hand, blazing hot and bright enough to rival the sun. Her golden eyes gleamed with fury.

Fwoosh.

She fired.

Or tried to.

The arrow fizzled harmlessly against the stone cube.

Smoke curled in the air.

"And who the hell are you?" Hilda growled, spinning around as soft footsteps echoed in the chamber.

A figure stepped from the shadows, pale and tall. The firelight glistened off his smooth, bald head. He bowed with unnatural grace.

"I go by Davon," he said, rising slowly.

His eyes glowed a deep, searing crimson as they locked with Hilda's.

"And I will not allow you to destroy the heart of the greatest monarch to ever walk the five realms."

A chill ran through the chamber.

Hilda's lips curled.

"We'll see about that."

With a flare of mana, the fire in her hand exploded outward. And just like that, chaos erupted in the stone chamber—fiery wrath against ancient conviction.

The tower would remember this battle.

---