Tower Of God: Life As Hoaqin

Through the wide-open massive gates, Dickel, myself, and every Arie Ranker aboard the floating fortress walked inside.

Despite being accused of the grave crime of treason against the family, I wore nothing more than a single Workshop-made mechanical restraint, surrounded by Rankers from the fortress as I matched their pace.

The interior of Baekhwa Sword Palace, the Arie main house, wasn't excessively lavish—nor was it austere. It possessed a perfectly balanced restraint. Perhaps because of that, it felt even more beautiful. A pristine white Western-style palace, dignified and refined.

As we walked, a group of people appeared in the distance.

All of them wore white Eastern-style robes. All but two had their swords drawn.

Ah—Cain hyung.

If he was there, then the ones with drawn blades had to be the Enforcement Unit.

As the distance between us closed, I leaned toward Dickel and whispered,

"Any advice? Like… social survival tips or something?"

"There is one," he replied calmly. "When you smile, make it look gentle. Sometimes your smile looks like mockery."

"…That's unfair."

While I was receiving utterly useless advice, we were already close enough.

Dickel stopped.

So did everyone behind him.

An awkward tension settled between our group and Cain's Enforcement Unit.

The first to speak was Cain, captain of the Second Enforcement Unit.

"Is the one behind you the criminal?"

"Obviously."

"For a traitor guilty of high treason, the restraints seem rather light."

"He surrendered without resistance and shows no intent to escape. This is sufficient."

"He resisted us quite fiercely."

"That's because you weren't taking him to the main house—you were taking him to the Elders' estates."

The moment Dickel said that, a murderous chill rose in the eyes of Cain and his subordinates.

At the same time, the Rankers on our side placed hands on their sword hilts.

"…I have no idea what you're talking about."

Cain's shameless response made Dickel's eyebrow twitch.

The Enforcement Unit are nothing but the Elders' dogs. If Hoaquin had been captured then, I don't even want to imagine what they'd be doing to him in the underground prisons prepared by the Elders.

As Dickel and Cain locked horns, I stayed silent.

Dickel had things well in hand. Me stepping in would only make things worse.

And just as I expected—Cain was the one who backed down.

"Well… everyone's entitled to their opinions. Hand over the criminal. From here on, we'll escort him."

"Unnecessary. We can handle the supervision ourselves."

"…Criminal transport is under the Enforcement Unit's jurisdiction."

"Then take the day off. We will escort Hoaquin ourselves—through proper procedures."

Cain exhaled sharply and twisted his sword slightly, hand moving into position.

A clear stance for drawing.

"…If you continue to obstruct us, we'll be forced to carry out compulsory enforcement."

"I value fairness," Dickel said coolly. "You don't. You obey the Elders without regard for right or wrong. How am I supposed to trust you? If I hand Hoaquin over, I can't help but wonder where you'd take him."

"This conversation is over. Enforcement Unit Second Division—"

"You're free to end the conversation," Dickel interrupted, "but draw that sword—and you'll die."

"…!"

Kuuuuung—

Dickel released his power.

Shinsu pressure exploded outward, shaking the surroundings. Not a single member of the Enforcement Unit could freely move the hand gripping their sword.

No one present was stronger than a Floor Ruler.

Everyone—including me—was crushed under the overwhelming pressure.

Damn… this is insane.

"Know your place, Elders' hounds."

"What—!"

"I am a Floor Ruler and a Floating Fortress Administrator. None of you outrank me."

With that, Dickel pushed straight through the Enforcement Unit, carving a path.

Cain couldn't stop him.

The Rankers around me followed the path Dickel created and continued forward.

Just as we were about to pass them completely—

"Stop."

A new figure appeared in front of us, blocking Dickel's path.

This time, even Divkel couldn't ignore him.

…Shit. Why is he here already?

It had been a long time, but I remembered that face perfectly.

The appearance.

The chilling aura.

Unchanged.

"The Enforcement Unit merely followed my orders."

"…Former 99th Floor Ruler, Arie Rom Dickel, pays his respects to the Elder."

The young man in white robes layered with a crimson cloak—an Elder.

He gestured for Dickel to step back.

And Dickel had no choice but to comply.

"Former 99th Floor Ruler, indeed. You have returned to the main house. You now possess no rank—merely an Arie who wields a sword well."

"And the escort of criminals falls under the Enforcement Unit's jurisdiction. That was decided by us."

Dickel said nothing, glaring silently.

"As an Elder, I welcome those from the 99th Floor. The criminal's escort will now be handled by the Enforcement Unit. Step aside."

Despite the command, none of us moved.

That alone was already a serious offense.

But the Elder merely chuckled.

"My, my. It seems I'm not very trusted. The criminal will be confined in the family's underground prison through lawful procedures. If you're concerned, Dickel, you may accompany us."

In the end, Dickel relented.

He dismissed the Rankers under his command, leaving only himself and me behind.

The Elder lost interest in him and turned his gaze to me.

Just like back then—

Eyes dripping with greed scanned me from head to toe.

The same sickening chill crept up my spine.

"It's been a while, child. I truly regret that things have turned out this way."

I didn't respond.

"And yet—you're a criminal guilty of grave sins. Your restraints are light, and you seem full of energy."

The Elder flicked his chin toward the Enforcement Unit.

What now—what are you planning—

Thud.

"…Kh—"

My back burned.

When I looked down, several sword tips had pierced straight through my chest, protruding from the front.

Red blood spilled from my lips.

That insane old bastard…

"Hoaquin!"

"Oh my, Dickel. Watch your words. Calling a traitor by name—how improper."

"The truth of that accusation hasn't been established yet!"

Ignoring Dickel's protest entirely, the Elder smiled leisurely and gestured once more to the Enforcement Unit.

"Even so, leaving a criminal with a risk of escape unrestrained would be foolish."

Slash—

"…Ghk!"

This time, the dogs' blades carved deep into my ankles and the backs of my knees.

My legs buckled instantly, smashing into the floor as I collapsed.

The moment I fell to my knees, white chains were drawn and wrapped tightly around my body.

With swords still embedded in my back, forced to kneel and bound in chains, the Elder stepped closer. He grabbed my chin and lifted my face, sneering.

"Now you finally look like a criminal, don't you?"

Blood welled up in my throat. I forced it down and spoke through clenched teeth.

My lips curled into a mocking smile—but my eyes burned with rage.

"Cough… if I die like this, how do you plan to deal with the aftermath? I haven't even taken my father's trial yet."

"Don't worry," the Elder said calmly. "We're well aware of your monstrous recovery ability. Escort the criminal to the underground prison."

He turned away, then added casually,

"And as for my opinion—there won't be any need for you to take your father's trial."

He walked past me, then stopped and glanced back with a pleasant smile.

"Dickel. As I said earlier, would you like to observe the criminal being confined in the underground prison—through proper legal procedure?"

Dickel stared at him, lips trembling as he finally forced the words out.

"Are you planning to dispose of this child like you did last time?"

"Oh dear. Mind your language. Failing to use honorifics with an Elder is quite rude. 'Last time,' you say… ah. You mean your younger brother."

Brother…?

Did Dickel have a brother?

I never got the chance to ask.

The moment the Elder mentioned it, Dickel's pupils shook violently, as if an earthquake had struck his eyes.

"Don't worry. This time will be just like before."

"…!"

"Fair. Absolute. An inevitable outcome. Now—what are you waiting for? Escort the criminal."

Everything happened in an instant.

The Enforcement Unit stripped me of every possession, dragged me away, and threw me into the underground prison.

Chains and shackles were fastened, pinning me to the wall.

Ah—only then did they finally pull the swords out of my back.

They yanked them out so abruptly that blood poured out like a severed hose.

One of the Enforcement members spoke as they finished the confinement.

"The trial will be held soon. Your lifespan lasts until then."

"Ghk… bullshit…"

I wanted to curse more—but I'd lost too much blood.

The creeping drowsiness told me as much.

Stabbed, slashed, and not even treated…

My head drooped lower and lower.

Then—

Thud.

My consciousness vanished.

…Everything hurts lately.

My illness. This. All of it.

Was this how Albelda felt…?

She was always in pain too.

It must've been hard…

....

"Applying the charge of treason, Arie Rom Arun is sentenced to death."

"…Hyung. I'm sorry."

"——!"

Dickel's eyes snapped open.

Cold sweat drenched his forehead, his breathing ragged.

As he wiped his face and took a sip of water, the door opened.

"Yo, Dickel. I'm here."

"…Ah. Schmitt. Welcome."

"What's with this? CCTV?"

"Ah… this?"

The Lighthouse was projecting footage—using the beacon tower as a screen.

It showed an Arie boy imprisoned in a cell.

The Lighthouse was connected to the family's situation control room. Dickel had tapped directly into the underground prison's real-time surveillance feed.

The boy on screen was Hoaquin.

"…Looks like he's unconscious. Dickel, shouldn't you go?"

"Entry is forbidden by Elder decree. No one but the Elders and the Enforcement Unit."

"Tch. Arbitrary as hell. Still… that confirms it."

"Yes. At least some of the Elders are openly hostile toward Hoaquin."

"And maybe… afraid of him."

"So what now? You got a plan?"

"Hoaq—Hoaquin has formally requested to take the Family Head's trial. There's no response yet, but it shouldn't take long. Until then, I plan to delay the trial as much as possible."

"…You need my help."

"Don't worry. I was always on your side. And this time, the Elders crossed the line."

They had a plan—but it was fragile.

How could they possibly stall a trial controlled entirely by the Elders?

If only some of the Elders were hostile, there was hope.

But if not…

There was almost none.

Worse still, everything hinged on chance.

"Best case," Dickel muttered, "is the Family Head responds before the trial begins…"

"Dickel, pull yourself together. If you keep clinging only to hopeful possibilities, nothing good will come of it. I'll start reaching out to anyone who might help. You do the same—anything at all."

"I already have," Dickel replied. "Rankers I have connections with, half-brothers and sisters who were close to Hoaquin, anyone who might be willing to help… and even the comrades he climbed the Tower with."

"Hoaq—Hoaquin's comrades? Aren't those just Regulars? What are you planning to do with them?"

"It's Hoaquin," Dickel corrected automatically. "And honestly… I don't expect them to help directly. I contacted them mostly to let them know what's happening to him. Besides, no matter how wide my network is, there are limits. Other than people like us, no one would risk defying the Elders just to save a single Regular."

"Yeah," Schmitt muttered bitterly. "Once people become Floating City Lords or Floor Rulers, most of them only care about their own safety. Compassion tends to die somewhere along the way…"

At Schmitt's self-mocking words, Dickel let out a dry laugh.

Everyone feared the Elders. No one thought of opposing them.

After all, this wasn't the first time the Elders had erased political enemies through one-sided trials.

There had been resistance before—complaints about excessive long-term rule, corruption, abuse of authority.

But every rebellion ended the same way.

Death.

Just like Dickel's younger brother.

"A family I once thought was unquestionably great…" Dickel murmured. "Looking back, it's rotted in far too many places."

"Yeah. All because of those old men clinging to their seats—and cowards like us who let them."

"Ah—!"

Schmitt suddenly sprang to his feet, startling Dickel.

"Dickel. I think I've found a thread. A very thin one—but still hope."

.....

100th Floor — A Branch Villa of the Khun Family

Crash—!

The sound echoed from a room occupied by a very important guest.

Servants rushed in, pale-faced.

"P-Princess! Is something wrong?!"

Maschenny stood there, her hand trembling.

At her feet lay a shattered wine glass, red wine spreading across the floor.

She stared at the servants with eyes cold enough to freeze blood, then flicked her hand dismissively.

"Leave."

"B-But the glass—"

"I said, leave."

"…Yes."

Once the servants were completely gone, Maschenny reactivated the Lighthouse feed.

The image reappeared.

Hoaquin—unconscious, battered, suspended in chains.

Anger surged again, mixed with something heavier, more complicated. This time she didn't smash a bottle—she barely managed to keep herself together.

Truth be told, she hadn't thrown the wine glass earlier. She'd dropped it when she saw the footage.

"…Ah."

Maschenny realized she'd unconsciously reached out toward the screen—and quickly pulled her hand back.

That was how shocking his condition was.

She was sad that Hoaquin had been hurt.

She was worried by how severe his injuries were.

And she was furious that his own family had reduced him to this.

Thinking back to how Arie children once mocked the Khun Family for lacking unity, she almost laughed.

She stared silently at the image for a long while.

"...…"

There was nothing left to think about.

I'm taking him.

At that moment, Maschenny decided she would bring Hoaquin into Zahard's army.

The Arie elders would regret their choice—soon.

But first, she had to help him survive.

With that resolve, she kicked open the door and strode out.

Servants stared in shock as she moved deeper into the estate, faster and faster.

Up the stairs. Further in.

Until she reached the heart of the villa.

A single door blocked her path.

Maschenny opened it without hesitation.

Pajik—pajijik—

"Ugh."

Sparks filled the room and leapt toward her the moment the door opened.

They looked weak—but even that was painful to her.

Not because Maschenny was weak.

But because the one producing those sparks was absurdly strong.

She finally reached the culprit and glared at him.

The man chuckled, clearly amused, pulled out another wine glass, and filled both glasses.

"Oh? Did I upset my dear little sister without realizing it?"

"…So what is it this time? Did I throw away that mint-chocolate ice cream you were saving? You really shouldn't eat that stuff."

"Help me."

He froze.

That, at least, he couldn't ignore.

"…Did I hear that right? The Princess… asking someone for help? Well, I suppose I don't exactly count as 'someone else.'"

"Shut up. Are you helping or not? Decide."

At her sharp demand, he finally stood up from the sofa.

"For my adorable little sister? Of course. I'm on your faction anyway."

He winked.

Maschenny nearly gagged—but endured it.

He would be useful.

"So," he said lightly, "what do you need help with?"

"Be my guarantor."

"...…."

That wasn't something even parents did for their children.

....

Arie Hon's Floating Fortress

"Family Head. May I enter?"

The voice belonged to the Arie Ranker Hon had ordered earlier.

Hon opened his eyes slowly.

"Enter."

The massive doors opened, and the Ranker bowed deeply before stepping inside.

"…What is it?"

"It concerns your trial, my lord."

"Did you deliver my will?"

"…There was a complication."

Hon leaned forward, interest lighting his eyes.

"How amusing. I distinctly recall telling you to deliver it. Why was that not done?"

Boom—!

The pressure released by Hon slammed the Ranker's head and knees into the floor.

Trembling violently, he forced the words out.

"The Elders… asked whether it was appropriate to allow a traitor to take the trial…"

Hon tilted his head.

"A traitor? The one who requested my trial? What is his name?"

"C-Cough… Arie… Hoaquin…"

"Arie Hoaquin?"

The name triggered a memory.

'Arie? Then… do you know Hoaquin-oppa?'

Ah.

That child.

"Khkhkh… hahahahaha!"

Hon's laughter shook the entire fortress.

After finally calming down, he turned to butler at his side.

"I can already see how this played out. The Elders never passed on my words to the boy, did they? I let them slide because they worked efficiently—looks like they've grown bold."

"Shall I go and administer punishment?"

"No."

Hon shook his head.

"They've served the family well. They deserve one chance. Turn the fortress around—we're going to the 100th Floor."

"…As you command."

The butler bowed and left.

Soon, the fortress began moving.

Hon glanced indifferently at the Ranker still prostrated on the floor.

"You failed to carry out my order. You must be punished."

With a casual wave of his hand, the Ranker was engulfed in light and dispersed into particles.

"…Hmm. I'll need to find someone else to deliver my message."

One week later—

The trial began.

And with it arrived Hon's revised order.