Chapter 302: Chapter 302 – “No!”

Luca stood between the two sides — seven dwarven elders braced like a mountain wall, and his master, the Tower Master, standing alone yet radiating the kind of quiet power that could crush mountains.

He exhaled, steadying himself.

Master,” Luca said, voice steady but respectful, “if you enter the territory with your powers sealed, the dwarves will have no reason to fear your presence.”

The Tower Master didn’t even blink.

“No.”

It wasn’t harsh.

It wasn’t angry.

Just a flat refusal, delivered with her usual elegance — like she were declining an unnecessary formality.

But the tiniest motion betrayed her.

Her fingers paused for half a heartbeat before folding together again, her eyes shifting minutely away from him, as though avoiding a memory.

Luca noticed — and his brows knit slightly.

Why… that reaction?

“Master, it’s only temporary,” he tried again, voice lower. “Just until you see Selena.”

Her head tilted, veil brushing lightly against her collarbone.

“Luca,” she said, calm as a still lake, “I said no.”

Her tone hadn’t changed at all — but the way her shoulders drew back a fraction, the controlled tension in her spine, the way she anchored her feet more firmly into the ground… it was subtle, but it revealed a discomfort she was trying to mask.

Luca’s eyes softened with confusion.

Why is she hesitating?

Why is sealing her power… such a problem?

He took a small step closer, careful not to trigger her defenses.

“Master… she’s unconscious. I don’t know what caused mana disassociation but….she needs you.”

Her chin dipped — barely.

Her breath left her a shade slower than before.

Her fingers curled within her sleeve, just enough for Luca’s sharp eyes to catch it.

Again, nothing dramatic.

Just… restrained.

“Do not misunderstand,” she said quietly. “I want to see her more than anything.”

More than anything.

Yet still, her body held that tiny, rigid line of refusal — a whisper of fear or distrust she refused to voice.

Luca swallowed.

“Then why—?”

Her gaze flicked toward him — sharp, unreadable — and he felt the question land somewhere she did not want touched.

Her voice, though steady, carried the faintest shift.

Not trembling.

Not emotional.

But tighter.

“…Luca. Anything but sealing my power.”

Only then did he truly look at her — really look.

Her posture wasn’t defensive… it was guarded.

Her aura wasn’t raging… it was coiled.

Her expression didn’t break… but the light in her eyes dimmed, if only by a millimeter.

Something happened to her.

Something she didn’t share.

And she wasn’t going to.

He didn’t understand it — not fully.

But the pieces were enough to make him wonder:

What are you afraid of, Master?

He didn’t say it.

The question lingered only in his mind.

He drew a breath, steadying his tone.

“Master… do you remember the first time we met?”

Her eyes shifted — a tiny, surprised flicker.

Her posture straightened.

Her veil moved with a slow inhale.

“…Why bring that up?”

Luca gave her a small, almost nostalgic smile.

“When you came to the academy dorms… I was a mess.I didn’t know what to do, crying over things even I didn’t know. When I felt nobody understood me and was alone. You didn’t push me away. You sat beside me the entire time.”

Her fingers loosened inside her sleeves.

A breath she’d been holding eased out silently.

“You listened,” Luca continued. “You let me trust you. You became the person who understood me more than anyone else.”

She didn’t move — but her eyes softened by a degree, the faintest ripple behind her calm mask.

“I’m not asking you to tell me everything,” he said. “I’m not forcing you to explain why sealing your power frightens you.”

Her shoulder tightened — small, nearly invisible — yet enough to confirm it to him:

There was fear. Hidden, quiet, but real.

“Master,” Luca said gently, “Selena needs you. And I… I want you to trust me the way I trusted you that day. Or at least…..try to.”

The Tower Master didn’t reply immediately.

She lowered her gaze a fraction.

Her fingers shifted within her sleeves — once, twice — as though weighing something in her palm.

Her stance loosened, then straightened again.

A single breath drew in, steady but heavier, as if she were silently confronting her own doubts.

And then…

She lifted her head.

The hesitation vanished behind her composed expression — but Luca recognized the difference in her eyes.

A reluctant acceptance.

Not comfort.

Not peace.

But a decision.

“…If this is the only way I may see my daughter,” she said softly, “then I agree.”

Luca bowed deeply, relief loosening his chest.

“Thank you, Master.”

She gave a single nod — the motion deliberate, graceful, and restrained.

Yet as her hands folded back into her sleeves, her fingers curled again —

a subtle, fleeting tremor she immediately controlled.

A reminder that for her…

this choice was not easy.

Not simple.

Not without ghosts.

But she trusted him.

Or at least — she was trying to.

For a long heartbeat, not even the wind dared to move.

Seven dwarven elders — towering figures of authority who had faced monsters, calamities, and centuries of war — stood frozen, staring at the Tower Master as if they had witnessed something impossible.

She had agreed.

To seal her powers.

A being worshipped as a force of nature… willingly placing shackles on herself.

Elder Brokk’s jaw shifted beneath his beard.

Elder Hilda blinked once, her fiery braids losing their flame for a fraction.

Elder Varrim straightened sharply, eyes narrowing at Luca with something between suspicion and awe.

Duram muttered under his breath, “What in the name of the First Forge…?”

And all of them — all seven — found their gaze drifting toward the lone young man who had convinced her.

Just what in the mountain is this kid?

The unspoken question rippled through their stares.

Luca felt all of it on his back — the weight of ancient eyes — but he kept his posture respectful, steady.

The Tower Master, now fully composed, turned toward the elders.

Her veil fluttered gently in the mana-tinged wind.

“I assume,” she said lightly, though her gaze flickered with faint reluctance, “it will not be a problem if my powers are sealed?”

Her tone was polite, diplomatic — yet there was an unmistakable shard of steel under it.

The elders exchanged looks.

Thrain finally coughed once — the sound deep, grating, betraying the fact that even he needed a moment to regain his composure.

“If you are willing to go this far,” he said, stroking the base of his beard, “then… we must agree as well.”

Luca let out a long breath — only then realizing how tightly he had been holding it.

Good.

At least they had avoided a war between the dwarves and Master.

The Tower Master gave a single, curt nod.

“…Do it then.”

No emotion.

No hesitation in her voice — but her fingers tightened slightly around her sleeve, the only sign of reluctance she allowed.

Elder Thrain turned toward a young dwarf guard standing behind him.

“You,” he instructed, voice firm. “Fetch a Seal-Bound Restraint.”

The dwarf saluted sharply and sprinted into the fortress.

Moments stretched.

Everyone waited.

When the dwarf returned, breath slightly uneven from urgency, he held out a small, rune-etched bracelet made of blackened mithril — a simple accessory at first glance, but the air hummed faintly around it.

Thrain accepted it, examined it once, then snapped off a single silver bead embedded in the band.

The bead pulsed softly — a faint glow resembling a heartbeat.

He walked forward and held the bracelet toward the Tower Master.

“Wear this,” he said. “It will seal the majority of your power. Only the holder of this bead…” — he raised the small glowing sphere in his hand — “can remove it.”

He tossed the bracelet toward her.

She caught it effortlessly — but her fingers lingered on the cold metal, hesitating just half a second.

Luca saw it — the micro-pause, the faint tremor that wasn’t fear but a deeply buried memory pressing against her composure.

Still, without another word, she slipped the bracelet onto her wrist.

A soft chime rang out.

The runes glowed.

And then—

FWOOOM.

A silent shockwave spread from her body, extinguishing the aura surrounding her.

Her mana — vast, heavy, oceanic — collapsed inward like a star folding in on itself.

She staggered.

Only barely.

But for a woman who never stumbled, never wavered, that subtle half-step backward was almost painful to witness.

Luca moved instantly, a hand reaching behind her back, supporting her shoulder with steady firmness.

“Master—”

“I’m fine,” she said, though her voice was quieter, breath thinner.

Yet she didn’t push his hand away.

Her posture straightened again after a moment, regaining its usual grace — but her fingers brushed the bracelet once, almost instinctively, as if checking that it was still real.

Elder Thrain nodded, satisfied.

“Then let us go inside,” he said, stepping aside and gesturing toward the massive gates of the dwarven capital.

The Tower Master gave him a small, controlled nod.

Luca remained close beside her — one steadying step behind — ready to catch her again if needed.

Together, the group walked through the gates.

Past the tension.

Past the near-battle.

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