The wind that blew through the windows on the topmost floor was always somewhat dry. A voice called out in a large, disorderly room with books piled all over the floor.

“We have the first challenger in a long time, Master.”

The person speaking from the doorway was a small child of about five or six years old, judging by appearance. This youth had pretty features but a blank expression, making it difficult to discern their gender. Their emotionless voice gave the odd child a doll-like quality.

The witch’s child-shaped familiar looked at the table—no one was there. Atop the table sat a lone, steaming cup of tea. It had been there for over an hour but showed no sign of cooling.

The one person who should have been there was missing from this tableau. However, the attendant received a reply right away.

“A challenger? How rare. I thought everyone had forgotten all about this tower.”

“There was one a month ago, too. They couldn’t solve the first stone-slab puzzle and ran out of time,” answered the child.

The traps in the tower were changed regularly, but ever since the first checkpoint had been set with its current challenge, not a single contender had managed to get past. Perhaps they hadn’t thought they’d have to solve an impossible math problem right off the bat in a tower said to have the most difficult obstacles in the entire land. There also weren’t many contenders to begin with, so it was no wonder the owner of the tower had misremembered.

The familiar reached with their mind to sense the challengers very far below them. “It seems like the ones this time around are making steady progress upward. Would you like to go take a look?”

“No. The real fun starts on this level, if they can actually reach it.”

“Indeed.”

Witches were beings better off lurking in the shadows of history. While this one’s exact whereabouts were known, very few humans could actually make it past the tower’s perilous checkpoints. The witch had no desire to reveal herself, content to wait for others to reach her.

She sang out in a clear tone, “Go, Litola. When our guests fail, be sure to take care of things.”

“Yes, Master.”

A dry breeze wafted in. The familiar she had called Litola disappeared, and the witch, floating upside down on the ceiling, cocked her head. She muttered to herself, holding an open book to her chest.

“Even if these two are advancing at the moment, no one makes it past the first guardian beast.”

***

A double-edged sword pierced the lion’s throat.

Oscar had expected a splatter of blood, but none came. The white lion, frozen in a leaping attack, tumbled to the floor like an automaton. Without sheathing his sword, Oscar took a closer look at the beast’s huge body. It was even bigger than a horse.

“I thought this thing’s fur was super-white, but it turns out it wasn’t even real. I guess it’s some sort of guardian beast animated by magic?”

“A lion this huge is terrifying, but the fact that Your Highness isn’t scared of it at all is even more terrifying…”

“I’m just warming up. Wonder what’ll come at us next…”

Exiting the hall where the lion had been, Oscar and Lazar were met by the tower’s passageway again. Oscar looked down the open atrium in the middle of the tower. The distant sight of the ground floor was enough to make anyone feel light-headed, but Oscar peered at it fearlessly.

“That’s a mortal fall,” he remarked.

“Please don’t get so close to the edge!” Lazar pleaded.

“You should’ve just waited for me at the bottom…”

When Oscar looked back, he saw Lazar edging nervously along the wall. With that attitude, he might never reach the top floor. Nevertheless, Lazar’s face was desperate and determined as he cried, “I won’t let you die alone here, Your Highness!”

“I don’t plan on dying.”

Oscar lightly brandished his sword. Along the ascent, he’d encountered countless traps and monsters in the guise of guardian beasts, but he’d cut them all down easily. They were about to reach the midpoint of the tower.

At first, his biggest worry had been the tower’s height, but as a device had activated that brought them automatically to the next level after disarming a trap, that was no longer a concern. The traps, on the other hand, were clearly testing Oscar’s physical strength, power output, judgment, and intellect. All of these were equally necessary to get past them.

“I guess normally you’d attempt this with a team of people,” mused Oscar.

“No one’s been fool enough to try to climb with only two…”

“The last one who made it all the way was my great-granddad, right?”

“I heard he went up with a party of ten. Although, His Majesty the former king was the only one to reach the top.”

“I see…” Oscar pondered that, putting the hand not currently holding a sword to his chin.

About seventy years ago, Regius, his great-grandfather and the king of Farsas at that time, had reached the top of this tower and received the witch’s assistance. However, that had apparently incurred some form of debt. Nowadays, it was a story told only to children as a fairy tale.

“It’s been a walk in the park until now,” Oscar commented.

“We should go home!” Lazar whined again.

“You can go home. You’re useless anyway,” Oscar quipped flatly as Lazar burst into anguished tears.

As they spoke, the next door appeared in front of them. From about the fifth floor up, checkpoints had occurred not on the landings connected to the passageway but in separate chambers.

Oscar opened the door without hesitation and saw, in the middle of the room, a pair of winged stone statues twice the size of a human. The sight would’ve made any child cry, but Oscar seemed content to offer his casual thoughts. “Those really look like they’d move if you get close to them.”

“Without a doubt! They will move! Let’s leave!”

“You should seriously wait outside…”

Oscar took a deep breath and readied his sword. As he did, the stony skin of the statues morphed into a bewitching black color. Their empty eye sockets glowed red. Spreading their enormous wings without so much as a sound, they flew up into the air.

Oscar signaled with his left hand, and Lazar rushed to plaster himself against the wall.

Immediately after that, one statue flew toward Oscar. The black monster swooped in fast, like a bird of prey diving after a kill. Just before its sharp talons could rip his body apart, Oscar leaped nimbly to the left. As if it had been waiting for that, the second statue chose that moment to swoop toward him.

“Oops.”

Fending off its talons with his sword, Oscar slipped out from between the attackers and came around from behind. Effortlessly, but with phenomenal strength, he sliced off one wing from the first statue.

The wounded thing let out an earsplitting shriek. Oscar lifted his sword again toward the monster curled up on the ground. It had all happened in a flash.

***

“Master, the challengers have reached the stone-statue room.”

Hearing her familiar’s update, the witch smiled a little as she boiled water. “That’s amazing. How many?”

“Two… No, in reality, one.”

This fact should have been surprising, but the witch only lifted an eyebrow. For decades now, none had made it this far, no matter the size of their party.

It should have been impossible for one person to handle the stone-statue room. A challenger couldn’t properly fend off two quick-witted and agile enemies who could fly without someone to distract one, allowing the first to fight the other. That room had seen more challengers drop out than any other.

“I thought I’d make some tea, but it looks like it’s pointless now. Since our guest has made it so far, I suppose I should take out the fighting-spirit prize?”

“It looks like he’ll clear that rather easily.”

“…What?”

***