Climbing the Tower with Multidimensional Avatars - Chapter 168

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Episode 168. The Tower – Western Train (2)

Bogard Dellington studied the frightened man and asked.
“Are you Elliot?”
“Ahhh! P-please, spare me!”
The moment Bogard spoke his name, the bespectacled man yelped and ducked back behind the counter.
“Who said anything about killing!?”
Bogard’s shout drew Park Jeon-bin forward, who moved to calm him.
“It seems he’s simply frightened. Don’t excite yourself. From the way he’s pleading for his life, it appears someone has been threatening him. Allow me to speak with him.”
At Park Jeon-bin’s words, Bogard snorted and stepped back.
Park Jeon-bin approached the counter slowly and spoke.
“You asked if we were Climbers, didn’t you? That’s correct. We are Climbers.”
At the word Climber, Elliot poked his head up from behind the counter.
“I’ve h-heard that Climbers know how to use strange sorcery. W-would you demonstrate such magic?”
At those words, Park Jeon-bin withdrew a small vial from the pouch at his waist.
It was blue, and the color seemed strangely familiar.
Diana glanced at the blue liquid and leaned toward Lee Su-young, whispering.
“That looks like Goblin Blood to me.”
Goblin Blood was blue, after all.
His power from The Tower was said to be Bloodline Manipulation, so it seemed he carried Goblin Blood as a weapon.
Park Jeon-bin uncorked the vial and, without laying a finger on it, suspended the Goblin Blood inside into the air, forming stars, circles, triangles, and squares.
“Does this convince you?”
“It’s r-real sorcery! Heavens above! So Climbers truly are sorcerers! Is knowing my name also sorcery?”
From the way he spoke, it seemed this world on the 26th floor had no magic at all.
“No. The Tower sent us here to help you—to help Elliot, the Northern Union’s deputy secretary—transport the Treaty Seal to the Treaty Negotiation Venue.”
“Ah, The Tower. Yes, if it truly is the reborn Babel from mythology, then knowing my name and my confidential mission would be quite possible.”
Babel? The name sounded oddly familiar.
Elliot, relieved inwardly but still guarded against us, crawled out from behind the counter.
His clothing was formal attire of the modern era.
Elliot prayed earnestly.
“O Lord Father in Heaven, have mercy upon this fearful and foolish lamb, and upon the people of the Confederate States and all those who believe in the equality of mankind. I give deep thanks for sending Climbers to our aid.”
At Elliot’s prayer, Bogard started and asked.
“The Confederate States? You mean we’re in America?”
Without waiting for an answer, he rushed out of the saloon.
The view outside the door showed nothing but tumbleweeds and dusty streets like something from a western film—ramshackle wooden buildings as far as the eye could see.
Kong looked at the scenery beyond the door and asked Elliot.
“What era are we in—some historical drama set?”
At Kong’s question, Elliot looked bewildered.
“Historical drama? I’m not sure what you mean by drama, but no. This is a small village in West Virginia, roughly 130 miles northwest of Washington. It’s a real place where real people live.”
The use of miles as a unit—as an engineering student, it was terrible to hear such measurements.
“What era have we climbed into this time?”
Kong seemed to view each floor they’d ascended so far as if it were a stage in some fictional game.
I turned to Elliot and asked.
“You said you belong to the Northern Union. Is there a war happening now?”
“Yes, that’s right. Currently, the United States is divided north and south. The United States and the Confederate States are at war.”
“Then the president now is Lincoln?”
At my question, Elliot tilted his head in confusion.
“Lincoln? Lincoln… Ah! Do you mean Abraham, the former congressman who died six years ago? Or was it seven?”
“What! Lincoln is dead!?”
Kong and Bogard seized Elliot by the collar in shock.
“Yes? Yes, of course. Seven years ago, he ran for Senate against Douglas—the giant, as they called him—and lost, didn’t he? During that election campaign, he traveled throughout Illinois, and I myself can never forget his fiery speeches and debates on the abolition of slavery.”
In the history I knew, Lincoln likely did lose that Senate race.
Yet I remembered that through that election, he became something of a symbol of abolition and eventually became president.
“Abraham would have made a fine president had he lived—he was tall too, very tall. But after his speeches, he was shot by pro-slavery advocates and died. His death sparked an outcry against slavery, and it’s no exaggeration to say the current war was triggered by his assassination.”
The two Americans seemed shaken by the fact that Lincoln never became president and was dead.
I spoke to them both.
“Calm yourselves. This is what we call a Parallel World. But it seems the broad strokes haven’t changed much.”
If they’d meant for me to reverse the course of the war, I would have been in real trouble.
While I calmed the two of them down, Park Jeon-bin asked Elliot a question.
“Then could you tell us about the current situation? That way we’ll know how we should move forward.”
At Park Jeon-bin’s words, Elliot nodded and explained his circumstances.
In summary, the war between the Northern Union, which fought under the banner of abolishing slavery, and the Southern Confederacy, which supported it, was all but decided in favor of the north—only the final treaty negotiations remained.
That was why Elliot, a Northern Union diplomat, had been tasked with carrying the head of state’s seal to the treaty negotiation venue.
For reasons he wouldn’t explain, the seal’s owner couldn’t go to the venue himself, so Elliot had been sent as a proxy instead.
But a group of pro-slavery fanatics who refused to accept the war’s defeat had launched an attack to sabotage the treaty.
Because of that, while moving in secrecy, his guards scattered in all directions to act as decoys and let Elliot escape, and he’d hidden in a village near one of the Northern Union’s rear-echelon logistics hubs—until space itself had warped without warning and he’d panicked, scrambling under the counter.
He said he’d been praying to God for guidance when suddenly the air distorted, which is where we found him now.
Kong spoke, his arms folded across his chest.
“So what you’re saying is we escort this man to that logistics hub city, board a train, and head southwest to the treaty negotiation venue?”
At Kong’s words, Lee Su-young nodded.
“That seems to be it.”
Bogard Dellington and Kong spoke with grave expressions.
“As an American, I can’t stand by and do nothing.”
“Well said. I don’t know much about parallel worlds or whatever, but freedom is the fundamental value of America.”
Saying this, they turned their intense gaze toward me and the other Climbers.
There was a palpable pressure, as if they wouldn’t forgive anyone for giving up at the twenty-sixth floor.
Well, I had no intention of giving up anyway.
When I looked at Lee Su-young and Diana, they both nodded, and Park Jeon-bin and Kong seemed equally determined not to quit.
Bogard clapped Elliot on the back forcefully and said, “All right, it’s decided then—let’s head to the treaty venue! And you’d better guide us well, you scrawny fellow.”

Of course, in this world, history had diverged in various ways; Lincoln had never become president and had died instead, so I couldn’t be certain.
Following Elliot’s directions, we headed toward a Northern Union intermediate logistics hub city located about seven miles, or eleven kilometers, from the village.
Eleven kilometers was considerable distance, but for Climbers who had begun stepping into the superhuman realm thanks to The Tower’s blessing, it wasn’t so far.
Personally, if I used the Lightness Skill at full power, I could cover it in five minutes.
But Elliot was clearly a desk man, so we had no choice but to match his pace.
“Don’t you have a horse to ride?”
At Bogard’s question, Elliot scratched the back of his head sheepishly.
“Unfortunately, my horse died on the way to this village. I considered borrowing one from the sheriff, but if it were just one, that would be manageable—however, since I need to move with all of you, I decided to walk instead. Besides, the sheriff probably only has one or two horses to spare.”
If we were going this slowly anyway, borrowing a horse wouldn’t have hurt.
After walking for about an hour, we arrived at the city.
“Your clothes are far too conspicuous. We need to change into something less noticeable.”
At Elliot’s words, everyone’s expression soured.
“What’s wrong with these clothes…?”
“Ordinary clothes don’t have nearly enough defense, do they?”
As we’d climbed The Tower, we’d all equipped ourselves with defensive enchantments or sturdy monster hides to make our clothing. Our garments had been tailored to modern tastes, so as Elliot said, our attire stood out more than we’d realized in this era.
This was an age when only horses and carriages traveled the streets, let alone automobiles.
Everyday clothing could differ quite drastically unless it was formal wear.
“If it’s a clothing problem, we can just cover ourselves with cloaks. It looks like cloaks are pretty common here.”
At my suggestion, everyone seemed pleased and agreed, so Elliot sourced officer’s coats for those who weren’t wearing jackets, and Poncho Cloaks—popular in the Old West—for those of us already wearing them.
He also found Scarves to cover our faces and cowboy hats, since Diana, being a Black-mixed woman, and the rest of us, being East Asian, stood out too much; we needed to hide our skin and hair.
Whether Elliot’s position as a Northern Union diplomat was genuine or not, he led us to a Military Supply Depot and armed us with military supplies.
“Is it really all right to arm us with military supplies like this?” Park Jeon-bin asked.
Elliot nodded. “Originally, my guards were supposed to gather supplies here before we departed. But since you are now my guards, it should be fine. Even though you are sorcerers, I’ve heard that sorcery demands a price. So firearms are more reliable than sorcery.”
Well, it was true that Mana got depleted, so he wasn’t wrong.
And if you had confidence in your aim, a gun that only required pulling the trigger was far more convenient anyway.
We each received one rifle and one revolver pistol.
The rifles were museum pieces—wooden stocks with barrels and vital components made of steel.
Bogard examined the rifles and pistols and asked, “Are these Henry Rifles and 1849 Dragoon Revolvers .44 Caliber?”
Bogard’s eyes gleamed as he rattled off an explanation about the firearms.
“During the Civil War, the main rifle used was the Springfield M1861—a muzzle-loading percussion cap rifle that fired Minié bullets, made at the Springfield Armory. But the Henry Rifle was nearly the first breech-loading carbine. It was probably first developed around 1860 and didn’t see wide distribution until after the Civil War. Its durability was weak for rough combat, so it was quickly phased out as the standard rifle…”
I’d thought this guy was just some ordinary middle-aged man, but he turned out to be a military history enthusiast.

Kong, being American himself, looked at Bogard with the expression of someone bewildered, wondering what on earth he was talking about.
Elliot nodded with a flustered expression as Bogard finished his explanation.
“Yes, sir. In the early and middle stages of the war, the mass production facilities weren’t ready yet, so it’s a rifle that’s only being supplied in the later stages of the conflict.”
Elliot made no effort to hide his unease at how thoroughly Bogard seemed to know the details of American military ordinance.
Bogard paid no attention to Elliot’s expression and looked at the ammunition instead.
“Oh! These are Rimfire Cartridges, just as I thought! At this point in time, of course they’d be Rimfire. The firing pin on a Rimfire isn’t in the center, it’s—”
“Listen, that’s enough.”
Kong cut off the excited Bogard.
“We don’t have time to chat here.”
“Ah, right. Of course. I got a bit carried away, didn’t I. My apologies.”
Bogard apologized and placed the ammunition crate into his inventory.
“Grab as much ammunition as you can, all of you. The more the better.”
There was no real need to store it in the inventory since they could load it onto the train anyway, but Bogard seemed to want to keep some as a souvenir.
Everyone loaded the ammunition crates, spare rifles, and pistols onto the train.
Whether the quantity loaded onto the train would be sufficient or not remained to be seen, but in any case, the guns were merely supplementary—our true strength lay in our individual abilities.
The train carrying us and our weapons began to race toward the Treaty Negotiation Venue.
Before boarding the departing train, Elliot offered a prayer.
“Father in Heaven, look with mercy upon us who seek to establish justice, and protect us from the vicious bandits and those who would tarnish the spirit of universal brotherhood by believing that all men are not equal—protect us from harm by their strange weapons, we pray.”
Wait—the bandits part I could understand, but strange weapons?
I felt a flicker of unease.

(To be continued in the next installment)

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————