Overwhelmed by the tower's might, the people once again remembered the power of the Lord of the Tower, remembered their fear of him.
Everyone faltered.
But then, as all those who resisted were cowed by the tower, young Venti once again raised his harp.
Playing his harp, he sang of freedom.
"Great god of wind—"
"With a wave of your hand, drive away these raging storms—"
"Leave this tower—"
"Let me see the blue sky, let me see the green earth, let me see the birds flying free—"
"Free god of wind—"
...
Venti's songs, carried on the breeze, spread to every corner of the battlefield.
All the warriors who yearned for freedom, inspired by the harp's music, gained strength they had never known before.
One by one, warriors with weapons in hand, emboldened by the harp and the songs, charged toward the imposing tower.
"Charge!"
"Break the cage!"
"Crush the tyrant!"
"Tear down the wind wall!"
As they fought, the battle reached its climax.
Countless arrows flew from the tower, raining down on the warriors of freedom.
Some could not dodge in time and were pierced through.
Others narrowly escaped and pressed forward toward the tower.
It was not only humans fighting.
Even Barbatos, the wind spirit, stayed close to the boy's side, protecting him.
When there was no danger, Barbatos would fly to Venti's shoulder and ruffle his braids, hinting that it was about to form a physical body.
Barbatos could hardly wait to share the surprise with the boy.
But it held back.
It would wait until the war was over, until it had formed a magnificent physical form, and then appear before Venti and startle him.
Just thinking about it made Barbatos so happy.
But no matter how long it thought, it could not decide what kind of form would be considered magnificent.
What kind of physical body would be surprising enough to startle Venti?
As Barbatos pondered, sharp arrows streaked across the sky from the distant tower, flying toward the boy.
Venti was only an ordinary human. In terms of strength, he was weaker than many of the warriors.
He could not dodge those arrows.
But in that critical moment, Barbatos flew before the boy and used all its power to form a wall of wind, blocking the deadly arrows.
Barbatos laughed happily. "See? My power can stop these arrows now."
"From now on, no one can ever hurt you."
As long as it could help the boy and protect him, Barbatos was happy.
From this moment on, it was no longer the boy's burden but his capable companion.
Seeing this, Venti looked at Barbatos with concern. "Are you alright?"
Barbatos laughed proudly. "Of course I'm alright. I'm a powerful god. How could ordinary arrows harm me?"
Venti said, "Barbatos, let's charge up the tower together and overthrow him."
With that, filled with longing for freedom and desire for the blue sky, Venti clutched his harp and charged forward with the warriors of freedom.
Now, the battle was brutal.
Countless people, for the sake of their dreams, fell at the feet of the Lord of the Tower.
Countless others built a ladder of bodies, climbing toward the tower.
They shouted, stepping over the bodies of their fallen comrades, charging toward the imposing, unassailable tower.
They threw all their strength against it.
But with human strength alone, even reaching the tower, they could barely scratch it, let alone break it.
Then, the huntress with Amos' Bow appeared among the crowd.
After countless battles, her body was stained red with the blood of her enemies.
She shouted, "Everyone, stand back!"
"Let me bring down the tower with this arrow."
The next moment, the huntress gripped her bow in one hand, an arrow in the other.
She loosed it toward the tower.
With a whistle, the arrow shot through the air like lightning, as if crossing space itself, and struck the tower.
With a deafening crash, the once-imposing, unassailable tower began to crumble.
The people who longed for freedom had won their first victory.
But at the moment the arrow struck the tower, a towering figure, radiating an overwhelming presence, appeared before them.
It was the Lord of the Tower.
When people prayed to him, he never answered.
When they made their wishes known, he turned a deaf ear.
But now, when they raised the banner of rebellion, the mighty Lord of the Tower finally appeared before them.
The Lord of the Tower gripped his weapon.
He looked at the flames of war below, at the people storming the tower. In his eyes, beyond the cold pride, there was only confusion.
Why?
He had always used his power to protect his people, and they had always loved and respected him.
So why had they suddenly raised the banner of rebellion?
The Lord of the Tower looked at his rebellious subjects, his heart filled with doubt.
But the Lord of the Tower did not understand.
His love for the people within the tower was never felt by them. Instead, it only caused them suffering.
The people knelt to the Lord of the Tower not out of reverence, not out of respect.
Because they could not stand.
Whenever the Lord of the Tower appeared, the fierce winds that accompanied him would crush the people around him, bending their backs, breaking their legs, forcing them to kneel on the ground and beg—while he turned a deaf ear.
Not only that, when the Lord of the Tower saw his people kneeling at his feet, bowing their heads in desperate supplication, he took it as their love and praise.
So every time he saw such scenes, his heart was filled with satisfaction and joy.
His sacrifices for his people were worthwhile.
But now, these people who loved him, who revered him, were raising their weapons against him, drawing their bows against him.
"No—"
"Have you not always believed in me? Have you not always loved me?"
"Why do you betray me?"
"All who betray me shall suffer the punishment of the tower!"
To be opposed by the very people he had sworn to protect shattered something within the Lord of the Tower.
He began to question the principles he had held so dear.
Like a madman, he threw himself into the battle with all the power of a god.
And through the chaos of war, the Lord of the Tower's gaze fell upon a boy holding a harp and a wind spirit at his side.