I Became the Narrow-Eyed Henchman of the Evil Boss – Chapter 176

Chapter 176: Ten Commandments Frontline (3)

Thus, Lampades stood upon the soil of Yellow Thunder Tower, gripping the unleashed Talisman of Thunder. He began channeling the endless magical power of the Ten Commandments through the artifact, preparing an unprecedented grand spell.

To those unaware of the tangled schemes involving Hydra Corporation, Orthes, and the forces behind them, Lampades must have appeared as a trailblazer heralding a new era.

What level of mastery must this figure possess to prepare such a colossal spell in the heart of the Ten Towers’ domain? A hidden dragon from the wilds of the mercenary world—a figure unnoticed by the magical society until now.

But this spectacle would never spread across the magical world.

First reason:

“The true abilities of the Talisman of Thunder must remain a secret. I trust you understand why.”

Orthes simply wouldn’t allow it.

Second reason:

“Tower Lord! We’ve successfully connected to the network as instructed! What are your orders?”

“Good. It’s my turn now.”

From this moment forward, all magical communications near Yellow Thunder Tower would be rendered useless.

Lampades’ spell wasn’t meant to disrupt Yellow Thunder Tower’s communications.

Rather, it would do the opposite.

The plan was to generate an overwhelming flood of magical transmissions—so many that the sheer volume of signals would completely paralyze the transmission and reception of messages.

While the Ten Commandments had no limits, the mages and enchantware operating under its influence were bound by very human constraints. By flooding their communication devices with noise, Lampades would push them to their breaking point, exceeding their processing capacity.

This was a classic strategy for attacking Ether Space.

But attempting it against the Ten Towers was an entirely different matter.

To successfully infiltrate a Tower’s exclusive communication lines and resist the Ten Commandments’ dominance with a grand spell required capabilities that no one had ever possessed before.

Only Lampades—who had secured Yellow Thunder’s private network address through Blasphemia, accessed the immense power of the Talisman of Thunder, and routed his efforts through Creal’s relay—could pull it off.

Additionally, Yellow Thunder Tower’s chief administrator of Ether Space was incapacitated, unconscious.

Fast response times were critical in Ether Space defense. With the Tower’s immediate reaction effectively neutralized, the attack had a clear opening.

As long as the rigid hierarchy between the Tower Lord and the elders remained intact, this chaos was unavoidable.

Standing amidst the overwhelming disorder he had created, Lampades surveyed the scene. From now on, all communication would have to be conducted through direct, verbal orders.

“Hector!”

The old man, who had been slaughtering artificial constructs on the front lines, leapt backward with ease. None of Yellow Thunder Tower’s sentinels could impede his movements.

Hector arrived at what could now be considered the main encampment of Lampades Tower—the command post where the massive radar system had been set up.

“Is it already time?”

Lampades nodded, though he still felt the absurdity of his own actions. Never in his life had he imagined working with priests from an ancient cult.

Now, it was time to bring out a relic that belonged to another era.

The communication device resembled a hollow dish, like a primitive radar. But instead of housing delicate circuits to receive signals, it contained firewood, accelerants, and materials to produce colored smoke.

With a spark of electricity, Lampades ignited the firewood.

Red smoke rose into the sky.

***

The priests of the Divine Cult were positioned far enough away that the smoke was invisible to them. It wasn’t wise to get too close to the domain of the Ten Towers.

But some signals don’t need to be seen to be understood.

Demus shot to his feet, his voice ringing out.

“The signal fire has been lit! Prepare for war!”

What Lampades ignited was a makeshift beacon—far less grand than the signal fires of ancient times, and its smoke was faint by comparison.

Yet it was unmistakably a call to arms. The crimson smoke curling into the sky was a harbinger of battle. Demus, as the chief priest of Enyalius, the God of War, could sense this instinctively.

Among the forms of offerings to a god, the burnt offering was one in which sacrifices were burned to honor the divine. Lighting the beacon was itself a burnt offering, and war—the ultimate sacrifice—was the greatest tribute to Enyalius.

After all, he was the God of War.

As if in response to Demus’ proclamation, Proditor opened a door.

“Revenge is right around the corner, old man. How do you feel?”

Demus turned his hollow eyes toward the boy.

“What good is talking about my feelings before it’s done? Ask me afterward.”

“Cool answer.”

Proditor clapped his hands, and a golden door appeared.

This was the final stage of Orthes’ plan to conquer Yellow Thunder Tower. Hector, Lampades, and Demus were to assassinate the Tower Lord, ending the succession war prematurely.

The condition for victory in a succession war wasn’t the total conquest of a Magic Tower—it was the seizure of the Ten Commandments. Normally, conquering a Tower and seizing its Ten Commandments were inseparable tasks. The Tower Lord, as the Tower’s most powerful defender, had to be defeated for their Ten Commandments to be claimed.

But with Proditor’s holy incantation and the Tower Lord’s unique vulnerabilities, the circumstances changed.

The elders and other defenders of Yellow Thunder didn’t matter. Once the Tower Lord was brought down and the Ten Commandments’ highest authority was transferred, everything else became irrelevant.

***

As Proditor’s holy incantation activated, the security system of Yellow Thunder Tower issued an emergency alert. It detected the presence of a heretic.

However, this desperate warning was ignored.

It wasn’t that Yellow Thunder Tower underestimated the threat of the heretics.

The Tower’s systems simply treated the alert as false.

“Damn it! Another false alarm? Pathetic cowards, resorting to such underhanded tactics! Typical riffraff from outside the Tower!”

Among the flood of signals Lampades unleashed, he had included repeated false alarms for the detection of heretics.

The barrage of fake warnings drowned out the truth, ensuring that this genuine alert was dismissed as just another distraction.

This twist was an improvised addition to Orthes’ plan, demonstrating how much Lampades had been influenced by his time with Orthes.

Orthes’ revolution targeted three Towers: White Light, Yellow Thunder, and Nokmok.

White Light was the highest priority, for obvious reasons.

Yellow Thunder followed close behind.

And finally, Nokmok.

Nokmok was chosen for a simple reason: while Orthes had no plans to use its Ten Commandments for anything, it was another Tower whose lord had remained in their domain. If the Nokmok lord interfered with the other fronts, the entire operation could unravel.

Thus, Nokmok had to be tied down before the White Light succession war concluded. But unlike the campaigns against White Light and Yellow Thunder, the objective with Nokmok was different.

Whereas White Light and Yellow Thunder required victory, the Nokmok front focused on delay. Orthes aimed to keep the Nokmok lord occupied defending their Tower rather than projecting their power elsewhere. This was less a battle and more a distraction.

For this, Orthes deployed a coalition of plant-aligned Magic Towers, linked through Meconion’s network. They were ideal for a war of attrition.

If Yellow Thunder was a blitzkrieg, Nokmok was its polar opposite.

While Lampades, the Divine Cult, and the Knights’ Guild threw everything they had into creating a battlefield where magic could be used against Yellow Thunder, the Nokmok campaign adhered strictly to the basics of succession warfare, slowly escalating their control over magical dominance.

Nokmok Tower itself was structured like a tree. The Ten Commandments’ magical power flowed through its roots and leaves in a continuous cycle.

The coalition used parasitic plants to gradually disrupt this cycle, weakening the Tower’s magical control. But as with all things plant-like, this process was slow and methodical.

The Nokmok lord could not afford to leave their Tower unattended. The attacks were subtle but persistent, creating just enough of a threat to force the lord’s focus inward.

This was Orthes’ plan.

Among the coalition forces, one branch stood out with its eerie precision. Their shadows moved in perfect unison, as if even their silhouettes marched in formation.

This was the Minte Tower, a small but surprisingly disciplined faction. Its unexpected strength drew admiration—and envy—from other Tower lords in the coalition.

But beneath their feet, their shadows squirmed.

The majority of mages and Magic Towers deployed to Nokmok had been recruited through Meconion’s network, carefully curated by Meconion to avoid the riffraff of its usual clientele. Instead, Meconion had selected competent mages with an academic focus on their semi-elemental lineage.

These were second-tier Towers dreaming of first-tier status. Towers hungry enough to take risks, yet too small to match the strength of the Ten.

This made them ideal pawns for Argyrion.

Halto, in particular, made one thing clear as they deployed Argyrion’s forces to claim the Ten Commandments:

“If you can’t beat them…

…join them.”