As they pass through the lift gates to the tower's summit—a structure extending to the very fringes of space—Leonardo's attention is irresistibly drawn to a figure clad in knightly armor, seamlessly combined with modern hoodies in a perfect, incongruous blend.
As Leonardo and the others proceed deeper into the towering edifice, they are transported to a realm that melds the grandeur of a medieval kingdom with the awe-inspiring vastness of space.
The tower's interior is a marvel of craftsmanship, evoking the splendor of a castle from Leonardo's era, yet imbued with an otherworldly ambiance that reflects its celestial location.
The walls, seemingly constructed of stone, radiate an uncanny warmth, as though they harbor the very essence of the realm's history within their grain.
Expansive corridors stretch before them, their ceilings soaring high above, supported by grand columns that are both sturdy and elegant.
Each column is adorned with intricate patterns and arcane sigils that glow faintly, casting an ethereal luminescence that dispels any lurking shadows.
Chandeliers dangle from these vaulted ceilings, their design an exquisite fusion of medieval craftsmanship and Rasvian-based technology.
Composed of crystal and gold, the chandeliers are intricately fashioned with cascading tiers, each holding innumerable candles that flicker with a warm, almost preternatural light.
The flames dance as if imbued with life, their glow reflecting off polished surfaces and suffusing the corridors with a golden radiance.
Luxurious carpets enshroud the floors, their rich hues and elaborate patterns reminiscent of the finest tapestries from the medieval era.
The carpets are plush underfoot, muting the sound of footsteps and imbuing the otherwise imposing structure with an air of tranquility.
Lining the walls, numerous vases rest on pedestals, each a masterpiece in its own right. The vases are large, with wide bodies and slender necks, their surfaces adorned with depictions of pastoral beauty and courtly life.
The flowers within them are not of this world—strange, luminescent blossoms that emit a soft, rhythmic light, as if they are alive and breathing.
Paintings adorn the walls, each one a work of art. Some portray the noble families of the realm, their faces captured in moments of triumph or sorrow, while others depict fantastical landscapes that stretch the imagination—fields of stars, mountains suspended in the void of space, and cities built upon clouds.
The frames of these paintings are gilded, their surfaces etched with runes that seem to shift and change when viewed from different angles, adding an air of mystique to the already enchanted setting.
As they progress, the number of people in their entourage increases slightly, with more heirs joining the procession.
"Dad should be there," Anna remarks flatly, her tone betraying little emotion. The corridors seem to stretch endlessly, and the very fabric of the realm appears to expand into a castle, whose monumental shape, if viewed from the outside, would leave one breathless.
It is a magnificent creation, meticulously crafted by the sage—the same sage who had bestowed an almost insurmountable quest upon a group of youths. "Yeah, he's always at this meeting," Elara replies.
Leonardo cannot tear his gaze away from the figure clad in armor—a familiar sight from his world, yet so alien in this one.
The figure's gender remains indiscernible, but their gait is marked by a grace reminiscent of a marquis, similar to Anna. Takashiro's movements, on the other hand, are fiery and calculated, yet this figure's grace seems to come naturally, as if born from an innate nobility.
The knight is accompanied by a woman, whose presence commands attention despite the subdued ambiance.
Leonardo's eyes are drawn to this enigmatic figure. Their attire defies easy categorization.
The long, flowing dress is dark, almost black, but upon closer inspection, it reveals hints of deep indigo.
The dress is cinched at the waist by a broad leather belt adorned with pouches and holsters, each likely containing esoteric tools or weapons.
The most striking of these is the staff the figure holds, its metal glinting ominously under the dim light of the chandeliers.
The figure's head is crowned with a wide-brimmed hat, the brim extending outward like the wings of a raven. Draped over the hat is a black veil, thin and gauzy, obscuring the figure's face from view.
The figure's gloved hands are delicate, the gloves themselves matching the dress with a similar worn quality. The way they stand, with one hand resting lightly on the staff and the other by their side, suggests a readiness for action, as if they are perpetually prepared for confrontation.
"That's a wizard," Anna interjects, her voice cutting through Leonardo's thoughts as she notices his interest in the armored figure—whom she has dubbed the "hoody knight."
"What?" Leonardo replies, his curiosity now fully piqued.
In his era, people used Agnite radiation to manipulate their bodily attributes. Radiation in this context had numerous effects on the body.
In his world, Agnite radiation served as a boon rather than a bane. When exposed to this unique form of radiation, individuals could enhance their physical and mental faculties beyond natural limits.
Muscles would strengthen, reflexes would sharpen, and even cognitive abilities would reach extraordinary heights.
The radiation also accelerated healing and granted resistance to various ailments, effectively turning those who harnessed it into superhuman beings. However, this power came at a cost; prolonged exposure required careful management, as the radiation could overwhelm the body, leading to unpredictable mutations or, in extreme cases, a complete loss of humanity.
People who harnessed Agnite radiation were known as wizards in Leonardo's era, and now he wonders what the wizards in this realm are capable of. His mind begins to wander, imagining the myriad possibilities.
"People who have a natural affinity for Rasvian energy," Anna clarifies, her tone shifting as the conversation turns to more serious matters.
"Among the 18 families gathered, five have two heirs," she says, her tone taking on a more authoritative edge.
Elara, who has been quietly contemplating, quickly calculates.
"If five families have two participants similar to you and Anna, with Anna being the heir, 13 should have one, each accompanied by a single guide. That makes 26 normal heirs and 20 doubles when you include the guides."
"So, 46 people are here then," Elara concludes, to which Anna responds, "And all of them are worthy opponents."
As they walk, they veer off into a more secluded path, away from the crowd they had been following.
"We know this is just an exploration quest, but you never know what's going on in their heads," Anna says, glancing towards Takashiro, subtly indicating that he may be the most dangerous among them.
Wata walks beside him, futilely attempting to mimic Takashiro's measured stride.
As they delve deeper into the tower, Leonardo notices the occasional window cut into the stone walls.
These windows do not reveal the outside world as one might expect, but instead offer breathtaking views of the cosmos.
Stars twinkle like diamonds in the endless void, and distant planets, some ringed and others swirling with colorful gases, hang like ornaments in the sky.
It's as if the tower itself is a gateway between worlds, a bridge connecting the ancient with the infinite.
At the heart of the tower, the grand hall unfolds before them, its vastness and splendor surpassing anything Leonardo has ever encountered. The ceiling soars high above, vanishing into shadow.
Massive pillars line the room, each one carved with scenes of epic battles and legendary heroes.
The floor is made of polished marble, the smooth surface reflecting the light from the chandeliers above, creating the illusion of walking on a mirror.
At the far end of the hall stands a throne, monumental in scale and design. It is carved from a single piece of dark stone, its surface polished to a mirror-like sheen, yet its edges remain sharp and imposing.
The back of the throne is tall, reaching towards the heavens, adorned with symbols and runes that glow faintly, pulsating with a palpable power. The throne symbolizes authority, a stark reminder of the sage who resides here, the one who has summoned them for this quest.
In the center of the hall stands a long, rectangular table, its surface crafted from a dark, almost obsidian-like wood, polished to a lustrous sheen.
The table is set for 18, with chairs that are both grand and austere, each one meticulously crafted with the same attention to detail as the rest of the tower.
The chairs are tall, with high backs and gracefully curved armrests, yet they are also solid and heavy, designed to convey a sense of permanence and strength.
Gradually, the 18 heads of the families begin to arrive, Anna's father among them, his presence unmistakable.