I made contact!

That's what I thought, yet my shoulder didn't feel the impact of flesh or metal, only a sensation of hitting a ball of cotton.

The demonic being leaped back in time, landing lightly outside the doorway.

The violent motion caused my pierced shoulder to erupt with intense pain. Sweat beaded on my forehead and dripped into my eyes.

I hurriedly wiped the sweat away, barely managed to steady myself, and faced the ominous presence in the corridor.

It held a greatsword mismatched with its petite frame, standing motionless amidst the pool of blood and severed limbs. From head to toe, it was covered in red-black scales, like a devil straight out of a nightmare.

With a casual strike, it had sent me flying. It even pushed Mr. Wilson to the brink of death in a direct fight, treating him just like my father...

This human-shaped monster!

My heart hammered wildly, my legs trembled—I was already at my limit. But I couldn't flee. I couldn't run.

At least, I had to buy time for Mr. Wilson!

Steeling my resolve, I stared at the demon. However, it vanished into thin air right before my eyes.

Simultaneously, an icy chill abruptly rose behind me.

Not daring to be careless, I gripped my sword and turned to thrust, but a hand cold to the bone pressed against my throat first.

Then, with a slight press of its wrist, my world spun. I flew halfway across the room before crashing into the floor near the center of the workshop.

Unprecedented agony washed over me, making me wonder if my entire body had been torn to shreds.

It's fine! Hold on! It's not as bad as imagined. Use your experience from the forest!

Gritting my teeth, I barely managed to cling to consciousness, not fainting on the spot. I tried to get up but found the function of all four limbs paralyzed; I could only twitch helplessly on the ground.

Blood flowed into my eyes, dyeing my vision red. The demon showed no interest in me and walked directly toward Mr. Wilson outside the corridor.

Then, from a distance, I heard it... no, her click her tongue softly.

With a light jump, she crossed most of the room and landed beside me.

Outside the corridor, searing flames erupted from the ground once more.

Within a few breaths, Mr. Wilson reappeared in the corridor, completely unscathed.

But even I could feel it—his mana was nearly exhausted, likely incapable of fighting back.

As the flames receded, the demon held her greatsword horizontally, crouched low, shattered the floor with a step, and charged straight at Mr. Wilson.

My heart clenched. My father's corpse flashed through my mind again.

However, Mr. Wilson wasn't panicked. He wore his usual confident smile, snapped his fingers, and a spark flashed.

The explosive traps, previously deactivated, reactivated with their master's awakening.

BOOM!

A deafening roar. Blinding white light instantly flooded the entire room. A wave of heat and shock slammed into me, lifting me from the ground and hurling me back.

A piercing ringing filled my ears; my eyes were stabbed by the light, almost blinding me. My mind turned to mush.

A few seconds later, the white light faded, the roar subsided. Immobile, I only felt a hand suddenly press against my back.

Then, a warm, flowing magic poured into my body. The ringing in my ears vanished instantly, my vision cleared again, and the pain all over my body rapidly subsided.

Healing magic! Could it be...?

I looked up excitedly, only to see Mr. Wilson's concerned yet triumphant smiling face.

Of course.

I stopped fantasizing and asked, "The demon?"
"Outside the tower. Get up."

Saying this, Mr. Wilson pulled me to my feet and helped me walk toward the gaping hole the demon had smashed open with her greatsword.

I looked out.

The red-black monster stood at the base of the tower. Half of her scaled armor was charred black, a large chunk of her shoulder was missing, and her left leg was bent at a strange angle.

Mr. Wilson's offensive power was unquestionable. She had suffered injuries that wouldn't be strange even if she died on the spot.

Yet, though trembling slightly, she still held her greatsword horizontally. The terrifying killing intent, far from diminishing, soared skyward.

A chill ran down my spine. She seemed to have mana left, while Mr. Wilson was drained.

The distance from the tower base to here looked far, but for this evil creature, it was just one leap.

We were already in danger.

Mr. Wilson said, "Adam, go to the next room. Bring the glass bottle on the third shelf."
"! Is it a mana recovery potion?"
"It's wine. The fight is over. It's time to enjoy the show."

So the revival spell does have side effects? His mind isn't clear.

I was thinking this when the demon pushed off the ground and leaped into the air like a locust.

A chill ran through me; instinctively, I raised my old sword to defend myself.

But before that creature could get close, she was engulfed by a dark red pillar of fire.

The flames lingered, their residual heat making me sweat profusely even from several meters away.

Mr. Wilson laughed. "The barrier's mana is sustained by the crystals in the tower. I only need to control it. The moment she was knocked out of the tower, the outcome was decided."

Messy and fond of drink he may be, but he is truly one of those worthy of being called a hero.

I felt sincere admiration and finally relaxed completely.

A few seconds later, the pillar of fire finally dissipated.

I waited for the air temperature to drop before leaning out to look at the tower base, searching for the demon's gruesome corpse. But on the ground, only the greatsword melting like ice remained, along with a trail of blood leading away.

My newly settled heart trembled again. Damn it... I'm definitely going to have nightmares tonight.

Mr. Wilson frowned. "To escape in that situation... Could she have predicted the weak point in the fire pillar?"
"But her mana should also be nearly depleted. She likely won't launch a second attack for now."

...Predicted the weak point?

A sudden realization struck me. "According to the notes, she should be Mordresar's associate, right? Could you have fought her in the past?"
"That is indeed possible. She seemed quite familiar with me. But... I shouldn't be so senile as to forget an enemy with such distinctive features."

Hard to say.

Mr. Wilson said, "I'll investigate her background afterward. For now, let's tend to the guests on the first floor."

I nodded in agreement and turned with Mr. Wilson. Then, both of us froze.

The glass sphere in the center of the room had a hole. Dark red liquid had flowed out, and the eyeball was gone.

It took me several seconds to understand the scene before me, which only deepened my fear and confusion.

When did it disappear? It should have been there when I was first thrown!

Did she have an accomplice? One who could effortlessly retrieve the eyeball without Mr. Wilson or me noticing?

Mr. Wilson also stared at the broken container and made a decision.
"Chasing is likely pointless now. Let's go to the first floor immediately to prevent casualties."

I nodded hurriedly and followed him as he quickly left the room and ran down the stairs.

I scanned the platform nervously.

No sign of the demon. Several ancient books were scattered on the floor, some artifacts had fallen from their displays—the platform was a mess.

But there was no blood, no gore, no smell of blood. The visiting guests all seemed to be merely unconscious, their lives not in danger.

Letting out a slight sigh of relief, I became aware of a fact and immediately caught my breath, engulfed by fear.

Sylvia was gone.