Chapter 227 - Episode Twenty-Two - The Search of a Certain Collector (2) (Side: Collector)

Just before Abel and the others headed to the final level of the Witchs Tower, to Altamir a large man in a blue cloak was walking on the first level.

He was the legendary adventurer, The Collector.

The Witchs Tower has a unique warding system, and each level has a different view. The first level is the Great Plains Huh.

He clicks his tongue, then turns his head.

The first level of the witchs tower was no different from the exterior, just a bleak expanse of brick.

Apparently, it was all just a big lie. I cant expect anything anymore.

Indeed, there was a perfect amount of grass and dirt on the bricks.

It seems to be just a deserted dungeon that no one passes through.

If you insist that this is a great plain brought about by a peculiar ward, then any place is a great plain depending on your mind.

(I didnt travel all the way to the Dinrat Kingdom for this I was expecting to find something new in my collection when I heard that no one had ventured beyond the fifth level of the legendary dungeon in a hundred years, but I never thought Id fall for such a typical hoax now. Its so frustrating.)

It has been a hundred years since the last time the collector came to the Dinrat Kingdom.

He had traveled to other countries and spent his days searching for treasures.

The only reason why he returned to the Dinrat Kingdom was because he heard about the existence of the Witchs Tower, where various treasures were rumored to be sleeping.

And now, here we are. It was infuriating.

The collector tilted his head upward.

He saw a large hole in the ceiling.

(The remains of sorcery. Its a shame that it didnt collapse before. The fact that it hasnt collapsed until now is a miracle. It would be foolish to unleash such piercing magic in a small dungeon)

The collector let out a sigh as he looked at the ceiling.

(But Ive come this far already. The height of this tower alone was quite impressive. So lets just climb to the top. Its not like they built this huge tower just as a joke. It couldnt all be a lie. If I climb up to the top, I might find something worth looking at.)

The collector points his arm toward the hole, and a dagger appears in his hand.

The collector squinted and stared, focused on the wall at the end of the hole, and held out the dagger.

The daggers blade ejected, and in an instant, it recoiled and plunged into the wall in its extension.

A long chain hung between the blade and the hilt.

When the collector gripped the hilt tightly, the chain was coiled in an instant.

The force of the chain pulled his body up into the air and moved him directly to the second level.

The ejected blade was fully contained in the hilt, and he was in a position as if he were thrusting the sword against a wall.

The collector hung his foot on the wall and easily pulled out the blade that had been stuck so deeply.

Fuhahahaha! Its nice being easy! Thanks to the idiot who drilled that hole huh?

The area was still the same bleak brickwork.

Thats fine. The collector knew that the various landscapes were just a fairy tale of exaggerated rumors.

However, the magic that had penetrated the dungeon had not lost its momentum and had continued to plunge through to the ceiling of the second level.

( By the looks of it, the third level is also a wreck. He seems to be three times of an idiot as I thought.)

In addition, in the center of the second level, where bricks are scattered, a staircase has been set in the soil as if to reopen the door.

This idiot is not sorry at all.

The collector touched the stairs with his hand.

(Hmm, judging by the traces of spirits, it must be very recent.)

The collector climbed up the stairs to the third level, which seemed to have been built by the sorcerer who had gone before him.

The sorcerer who had created this mess might still be in this tower.

If so, I might be able to test out a few of my treasures from around the world.

There is no doubt that he is a persona non grata, but the scale of his magic is quite large.

Note: persona non grata means unacceptable or unwelcome person.

He must be somewhat of a famous sorcerer.

With this in mind, he climbed the stairs.

The whole area beyond the stairs had turned into a wreckage of flying debris.

I knew it.

The magic that had penetrated from the first to the third level seemed to have gone straight through the wall.

On the way here, the collector once heard a loud explosion from afar, which may have been the sound of the magic bullet that destroyed the witchs tower flying high into the sky.

Hmm.

The third level was indeed just a ruin of wreckage, but there was something odd about it that caught the collectors attention.

The floor of the third level was slightly wet, and the corpses of half-fish demon sea marines and one-eyed flying fish, which had just died after drying out from lack of water, lay strewn about in the passage.

There was a strange bias in the pool of corpses.

The discerning collector, who had been traveling for hundreds of years, noticed that they were traces of spatial magic.

When space is stretched by magic, and when it is interrupted, a partial contraction of space occurs, forcing the objects inside to move to a biased position.

The bias of the corpse was certainly such.

(Obviously, a water-dwelling type of magical beast had lived here for a long time. And the fact that they showed different appearances at each level was probably not just a rumor. Though unfortunately, it seems to have been after one hell of a beast had passed by.)

The collector said as he looked at the dried-up carcasses.

There may have been a massive space manipulation by a special ward.

However, it seems that there was some idiot who had unleashed a magic that could break through the wards with force, without any deep purpose.

The collectors foot crushed the withered head of the half-fish demon sea marine.

The collector kicked it in the air, sending bits of flesh sticking to its underside flying, then looked at the shattered carcass at his feet and snickered.

However, Its been a long time since Ive seen anything this outrageous. I cant say the same for myself, though. Fuhahahahahaha.

The collector looked at the sky through the large hole in the wall and then climbed the stairs to the fourth level.

The fourth level was an illusion-like forest. It was too cramped to be described as a dungeon so far, and the only magical beasts were dead goblins, not the too poorly constructed brick wreckage. It was a forest of a certain size.

Trees with leaves of various colors spread out all over the area.

(Hoh~, so the rumors were true. Hmm, I see, this ward is somewhat interesting. But )

The area around the ground was covered with traces of something that had passed through with tremendous force, gouged, and dug up.

There were even holes in the trees.

There seemed to be dozens of seriously injured and dying dragon heads in the forest.

There was not a glimpse of the top-notch adventurer-killing dragonheads that are said to eat people in packs.

They licked the wounds of their companions and let out a mournful cry.

The golden dragon head, generally considered to be of high value, was also covered in wounds, lying as if looking up at the sky.

He looked like he had wounds all over his body.

The fact that he had left it there after having done so much to it suggests that he was not hunting the dragonhead for its value.

Its not as if they recognized it as a threat, seeing as there were traces of them chasing it around.

Even Im a little put off by this

As the dragon head watched the collector from afar with a frightened look in their eyes, the collector made his way to the stairs leading to the fifth level.