Chapter 301 - "Master....Do you trust me?"

The air at the gates of the dwarven capital was so thick with killing intent it felt as if even the mountains were holding their breath.

Seven dwarven Elders floated in a line, firelight dancing off their armor, each one radiating heat and pressure like a living forge.

Opposite them—

The Tower Master hovered alone.

White hair lashing behind her like storm-whipped banners, veil trembling, lightning coiled around her frame, frost blooming beneath her feet until the very stone groaned in protest. Her eyes—normally calm as still water—burned like twin storms ready to devour the horizon.

It was a tableau of disaster waiting to happen.

One spark.

One wrong breath.

One twitch—

And the entire mountain range would fracture under the force of war.

But all attention shifted downwards...

To a single figure struggling to stand.

Luca.

Barely upright, chest heaving, legs shaking violently after pouring every ounce of strength into that desperate scream. Frost and heat swirled above him, yet he didn’t flinch from either side—his eyes locked only on his master.

The dwarven elders looked down with clear displeasure.

Elder Varrim snorted, beard bristling.His voice cracked through the air like an insult carved from stone.

"It’s not your place to speak here, boy."

Luca didn’t even turn toward him.

Didn’t bow.

Didn’t apologize.

His entire focus was on the Tower Master.

He drew a trembling breath and forced the words out—

"Calm down... Master.Selena is fine.There’s no need to fight."

The dwarves blinked—eyes widening just slightly.

Because it worked.

The Tower Master’s power... stilled.

The frost beneath her stopped spreading.

Lightning softened from a lethal crackle to a tense hum.

Her shoulders lowered by a fraction—something uncoiling inside her.

And then—

She descended.

Not with aggression.

But with urgency.

Her feet touched the stone outside the gates, and Luca ran toward her despite barely being able to keep himself steady. The moment he reached her, she wordlessly extended a hand—gentle mana enveloping him like a stabilizing embrace.

His breath steadied instantly.

His shaking legs stopped trembling.

The elders exchanged startled glances—none expecting the infamous Tower Master to soften that fast.

Luca bowed, chest still rising and falling.

"Master..."

She didn’t wait. Her voice cracked with a tension Luca had never heard from her.

"Are you hurt?How is Selena?"

Her hands hovered close—wanting to check him, but too frantic about her daughter.

Luca swallowed and bowed again, voice steadying.

"She’s fine now.You don’t need to worry."

The Tower Master exhaled—a long, shaky breath—her shoulders dropping as though a massive weight slid off her back. Relief washed over her expression, softening the storm in her eyes.

Her body relaxed—but only a little.

Behind them, the elders landed with heavy thuds, boots cracking stone. They formed a semicircle, expressions mixed between surprise, respect, and caution.

Luca looked between the two powerful factions, an ache building in his brow.

Finally, he turned to his master.

"Master...but why were you fighting?"

The Tower Master’s expression instantly hardened.

She shot a sharp look at the elders.

"These old bones"—she jabbed a finger toward them—"wouldn’t let me see my daughter."

Hilda grimaced.

Brokk coughed awkwardly.

Gromm pretended to inspect his nails.

Luca blinked.

Then his gaze shifted to the elders—particularly Elder Huldor, whose expression was the least hostile.

Seeing that the Tower Master was calmer now, Huldor stepped forward, clearing his throat. His voice was deep, steady, and sincere.

"Please understand, Tower Master."

He gestured carefully, keeping his hands visible.

"Your daughter is safe. Truly.But allowing someone of your caliber inside our territory without preparations—especially after sensing the power you approached with—could have endangered our people."

He glanced toward the gates—toward the thousands of dwarven lives within.

"And if we allowed you entry in such a state... word of it would spread.And in times like these, other powers would think we are weak.Easy targets."

His voice dropped lower.

"We cannot afford that.Not now."

The Tower Master’s eyes flickered—anguish battling reason, wrath struggling with worry.

And Luca found himself standing between two worlds:

The mother who nearly tore down a kingdom out of terror for her daughter—

And the dwarven elders fighting to protect their own.

The tension still lingered in the air—hot and cold at once—

But for the moment...

The war had been stopped.

A thin thread of silence stretched across the gates, fragile and tense.

Luca stood between two storms—

behind him, the seven dwarven Elders radiating heat and pressure like living furnaces,

and before him, his master, trembling with contained emotion, frost coiling silently at her feet.

He swallowed hard.

Both are right... yet both are unyielding.

Elders won’t allow a powerhouse inside their walls so easily.

Master will never return without seeing Selena.

His mind raced, breath unsteady.

For a moment he felt like a blade caught between two anvils—either side pressing, any wrong move risking shattering everything.

Then, suddenly—

His expression shifted.

His eyes lifted.

Resolve hardened.

He turned toward the Tower Master, his master, his mentor... his pillar.

"Master."

She blinked, slightly startled by the firmness in his tone.

Luca inhaled deeply and asked, voice steady, eyes unwavering—

"Do you trust me?"

The words were simple.

But the intention behind them—pure conviction, quiet determination—struck her harder than a spell ever could.

The Tower Master instinctively stepped back half a pace.

Her pupils trembled.

Something flickered deep in her gaze—something soft, something unsure.

She hadn’t expected that question.

Not with that look—

A look that said he was ready to stand between her and the world if needed.

"...Of course."

Her answer came low, almost breathless, but firm.

She nodded—sharp, decisive, trusting.

Yet her fingers curled slightly, betraying the emotion simmering beneath.

Luca exhaled, tension leaving him in a visible wave.

He turned, facing the towering Elders who stared at him with a mix of caution and grudging respect. Luca bowed deeply—this time with sincerity.

"I apologize, Elder Varrim.I wasn’t able to answer you properly earlier.My condition was... compromised."

Varrim clicked his tongue, beard bristling.

But his glare softened by a fraction.

"Hmph. Fine."

Luca then looked at the elder he truly needed to convince.

Elder Thrain.

The strongest.

The most stubborn.

The one whose word carried the weight of a mountain.

"Elder Thrain..."

Luca began carefully, every word measured, deliberate.

Thrain’s eyes narrowed, flames flickering faintly around him as if eager to hear what this human brat would say next.

"What if—"

Luca drew another deep breath.

"What if my master enters the dwarven territory with her powers sealed? Would that... be acceptable?"

The reaction was immediate.

Elders sucked in sharp breaths.

A ripple of shock moved through them like a wave of heat.

Even the guards tensed, armor creaking.

Sealing the power of a mage like the Tower Master wasn’t a small compromise—

it was colossal.

An act of vulnerability.

A gesture of trust.

And a dangerous risk.

Luca didn’t look away.

He trusted her.

He trusted the dwarves.

He trusted his judgment.

So he made the gamble.

He turned back to the Tower Master—

Only to find her staring at him as if the ground had vanished beneath her feet.

For the first time since she arrived...

her aura shifted.

Not anger.

Not sorrow.

Not fear.

But...

Distrust?

Pure, unmistakable distrust.

Her voice came quietly, but the frost curling along the stones made the air sting.

"I won’t allow it."

Her eyes darkened behind the veil—not with hostility toward him, but something deeper... something wounded.

Her posture stiffened, shoulders tensing as if she had been asked to cut off her own hands.

Sealing her power...

It wasn’t just dangerous.

It was like asking her to walk blindfolded into an enemy’s stronghold.

Her voice sharpened, trembling beneath the ice.

"Luca... I cannot—I will not—let myself be defenseless in a foreign kingdom.Not when my daughter is inside.Not when she is vulnerable.Not when—"

She bit her tongue, cutting herself off, breath shaking.

Trust.

She wanted to trust him.

But the idea of sealing her magic—

Her fingers curled tightly into her robes, knuckles whitening.

Behind her veil...

her lips trembled.

It was not rejection of Luca.

It was her fear speaking—

fear of losing Selena,

fear of being powerless to protect her.

She lowered her gaze slightly, shadows washing over her expression.

"I cannot."

Frost cracked in a thin line under her boots.

"Not this."

And suddenly—

The atmosphere shifted again.

Not explosive.

Not violent.

But unbearably fragile.

Luca stood frozen—

caught between loyalty, reason, and the raw truth he saw in her eyes.

Trust wasn’t a simple yes.

And sealing her power...

For a long moment, Luca just stared at her.

Not with disappointment.

Not with confusion.

But with a quiet, analytical intensity — the kind he used when reading through a spell, or when facing an enemy whose weakness wasn’t physical, but hidden deep beneath layers of emotion.

Her reaction...

too sharp.

too defensive.

too urgent.

He had expected resistance — of course he had — but not this.

There’s something else,

he realized as his brows knit together,

Her posture said it all.

The way her fingers trembled against her robes, so subtly even a trained mage would’ve missed it.

The way her back remained straight, but her shoulders had curled inward ever so slightly — as though bracing for an invisible blow.

The way her eyes kept darting, not with anger, but with something far more brittle...

Fear.

Not of the dwarves.

Not of losing a fight.

But of losing control.

Of being powerless.

Of being unable to protect someone precious.

Slowly, carefully, Luca stepped closer.

His voice dropped, gentle but firm — a tone he rarely used.

"Master... what are you—"

But she cut him off instantly.

Not with authority.

Not wit

h coldness.

But with raw panic.

"No."

Her voice cracked, low and trembling — a softness she never let anyone hear.

She took a half-step back as though his words alone hurt her.

"Luca, anything but that—"