A massive thunderwheel, submerged about a quarter into the side of the cloud waterfall, spun continuously. On the opposite side, the largest lightning tower among them extended its tip toward the wheel, almost as if pressing it into the waterfall.

Below the cloud waterfall, a faintly visible reservoir had formed from clouds pooling together. Its exact size was indeterminate, as the clouds, not yet fully condensed into water, trailed down the terrain like vapor.

Tirkanjaka, who had been silently observing the scenery, muttered as her gaze landed on the colossal thunderwheel, at least 100 meters in diameter.

"The world has changed so much. When I last passed by the Cloud Waterfall, there was nothing like this waterwheel."

The Thunder Overseer, standing nearby, responded to Tirkanjaka's idle remark with practiced ease.

"The first thunderwheel was the size of an ordinary waterwheel. As people fleeing from the Golden Mirror gathered in Claudia and the city grew, the thunderwheel also expanded in proportion. Procuring metal in the Confederation isn’t difficult, after all. However…"

She paused, pointing at me and Aji, who were lingering at a safe distance.

"Are you both still afraid of lightning?"

Afraid of lightning? What nonsense. I declared boldly:

"It’s not just lightning I’m afraid of. I’m wary of any threat I can’t control."
"Woof woof!"

The prickling sensation of static still crawled across my skin, and Aji’s fur now resembled a lion’s mane, puffed up from the static charge. How could anyone not feel uncomfortable here? With even a sliver of survival instinct, it was only natural to stay away.

Seeing our steadfast reluctance, the Thunder Overseer nodded in understanding.

"I get it. The power of thunder is too wild and overwhelming for an ordinary human to handle. It's only natural to tremble in fear unless you're someone… exceptional."
"Wow, self-absorbed much."
"It’s simply the truth for those who’ve earned the right to be."

There wasn’t a shred of shame in the Thunder Overseer’s confident demeanor. Such self-assurance was almost refreshing in its novelty.

"Under the thunderwheel is where the thunder’s power is most concentrated. But don’t worry; as long as you don’t stray outside the lightning tower’s shadow, you won’t get hurt."
"Great. Aji and I will wait right here in that safe-looking spot. You all can go ahead."
"Woof!"
"Let’s go together. I’d like to take a look as well."

At that moment, I noticed a rectangular compartment on the side of the lightning tower. It was entirely sealed with steel, from the roof to the floor, resembling an indestructible metal box. It looked sturdy enough to withstand anything, from thunderbolts to charging carriages.

Aji and I moved toward it first, with Tirkanjaka following behind. As Tirkanjaka stepped inside last, the Thunder Overseer, who had been guiding others, finally noticed us and spoke.

"Wait. That’s…"

The elevator leading to the top of the lightning tower.

Huh? Elevator? What does she mean by that?

"Woof?"

Right then, Aji spotted a red button inside the compartment. Entranced, he pressed it without hesitation.

The steel doors slammed shut with a loud clang. Startled, Aji froze in place. The steel box suddenly shook and began to rise rapidly.

"Woof woof woof!"
"Ahhh! We’re being abducted!"

And just like that, Aji, Tirkanjaka, and I were whisked upward in the elevator, leaving the ground far below.

After ascending for what felt like an eternity, the elevator came to a gentle stop with a soft thud. Once the doors opened, we bolted out as if escaping confinement.

Tirkanjaka looked back at the elevator, curiosity gleaming in her eyes.

"A device that moves without requiring physical effort. Is it magic? Or powered by human labor?"
"Neither. It seems to use the energy generated by the thunderwheel."

As if to confirm my words, the thunderwheel brushed against the highest part of the lightning tower, its intricate grooves interlocking with smaller gears. The gears spun continuously, their movement driving the elevator’s pulley system.

"When the cloud waterfall turns the thunderwheel, the connected parts rotate and generate power. It’s used not just for the elevator but likely for other systems as well."

The gears weren’t limited to the elevator. The thunderwheel, which pierced through the lightning tower, seemed to power numerous mechanisms hidden within. The lightning tower wasn’t just a structure for avoiding lightning strikes; it was a system designed to harness and convert that energy.

"Hmm. It’s similar to the clockwork toys I saw in the Military State."
"Maximilian, who designed the Military State, was from the Confederation. He likely drew inspiration from here."

A city powered by a thunderwheel over 100 meters in diameter, continuously spinning—Claudia must have been the blueprint for Maximilian’s grand vision. He had dreamed of a city where everything, including its inhabitants, operated through interconnected gears. If he had succeeded, he wouldn’t have needed to defect to the Military State.

Aji, now trotting across the top floor of the lightning tower, began exploring with cautious curiosity. He looked around, shook his head, and even pawed at his fur before speaking.

"Woof? It’s okay here."
"Strange. Usually, the higher up you go, the more vulnerable you are to lightning."

It was peculiar. Earlier, at ground level, the air had been charged with an almost unbearable tension, as though lightning might strike at any moment. Yet, standing atop the lightning tower, that sensation was entirely absent. Was this the power of the lightning tower?

As I pondered, a group of children dressed in robes similar to the Thunder Overseer’s spotted us from the far side of the platform. Their eyes widened in alarm.

"Hey! You’re not supposed to be here!"

The children, clad in thick, priest-like garments, rushed toward us in a panic.

"This area is restricted to thunder disciples!"
"No one can enter without the Thunder Overseer’s permission!"

Their urgency was almost endearing, given their small, earnest voices. Aji barked cheerfully at their approach.

"Woof woof! Let’s play!"

Two of the children stopped in their tracks, their eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Oh? A beastfolk!"
"I’ve never seen one before! Let’s play!"
"Is this the time for that?!"

A girl with a stern expression scolded the others, silencing them and even causing Aji to lower his ears in disappointment. With a decisive tone, she addressed us.

"I don’t know who you are, but the thunderwheel is the most important facility in Claudia. It’s also the first place the Thunder God targets! Civilians aren’t allowed here!"
"We’re not civilians. The Thunder Overseer invited us herself."
"Really…?"
"Of course. If we were intruders, do you think the great and powerful Thunder Overseer would have just let us climb up here?"

Though we hadn’t exactly asked for permission, the Thunder Overseer hadn’t seemed concerned, so it didn’t matter. My words made the girl shrug in reluctant agreement.

"That’s true. The Thunder Overseer is the strongest and most capable human."
"I don’t know about the strongest, but she certainly seems powerful."
"No one can rival the Thunder Overseer except for the gods!"
"Careful now. Speaking of gods recklessly can be dangerous."

The children were clearly referring to the Thunder God, but they didn’t realize the danger of invoking such names in the presence of a certain ancient vampire.

Too late.

Tirkanjaka, noticing something, narrowed her eyes. The children wore metal rosaries on their wrists—crafted from steel, no less.

This wasn’t good.

"Tell me, does the Thunder Overseer fight the Thunder God often?" I asked, steering the conversation into safer territory.

The children perked up at the mention of a rivalry.

"Yes!"
"And who wins?"
"The Thunder Overseer, of course! But she says the Thunder God always retreats on its own, so we shouldn’t let our guard down!"
"It disappears beyond the cloud waterfall but always returns later!"
"That’s why we’re training—to fight the Thunder God when the Thunder Overseer grows too old!"
"Not that the Thunder Overseer will ever grow old!"

Their chatter was lively, but they seemed oblivious to the immediate danger they were in.

"So why does the Thunder God attack here? It must know how strong the Thunder Overseer is."

The stern girl frowned at me, unimpressed.

"Don’t you know the story of the lightning thief?"
"I’ve heard it. Long ago, the lightning thief climbed the cloud waterfall, stole lightning from the heavenly palace, and fled."

The tale was famous, but I didn’t care about the details. What mattered was coaxing the children into speaking blasphemy—it might be the only way to save their lives.

"But wasn’t the lightning thief at fault? Why does the Thunder God take it out on you?"
"Because the lightning thief hid the lightning in Claudia."
"The first Thunder Overseer returned it to the heavens, but once lightning touches the land, its power lingers. The gods were angered by this and sent the Thunder God to punish us!"

This was bad. Mentioning gods was the last thing we needed. But there was no turning back now.

"Pretty petty of the gods, don’t you think? Punishing you even after you returned the lightning."

Tirkanjaka’s mood seemed to improve slightly at my words. The children, however, gasped in horror.

"Shh! The gods might hear you!"
"You’ll bring divine wrath upon us!"

Divine wrath? I was more worried about the ancient vampire next to me. The gods might take their time, but Tirkanjaka could kill them on the spot if she felt like it.

"It’s the truth, though," I said.
"But—"
"And why does the great Thunder Overseer fight the Thunder God, then? Isn’t it because the Thunder God is the bad one here?"

The children, weighing their faith in the Thunder Overseer against the Thunder God, hesitated but eventually nodded.

"…Yes. The Thunder God is bad. It keeps bothering the Thunder Overseer."
"But the Thunder Overseer said gods are different from humans. Whether it’s the Golden Mirror or the Thunder God, we must always show reverence."

"That’s true. Even if someone’s terrible, if they’re strong and reckless, you might have to bow your head to survive. It’s not about dignity—it’s about fear."

Like the ancient vampire standing right here, ready to kill anyone who dared to invoke a god in her presence.

‘Her tolerance seems unusually high today. As long as they don’t explicitly worship, she won’t care,’ I thought.

Tirkanjaka’s indifference was a small mercy, but I still felt the need to steer the conversation elsewhere.

"Don’t worry, though. The bad Thunder God will be dealt with soon enough—"

Before I could finish, the thunderwheel let out an ominous groan. Sparks danced across the surface of the cloud waterfall, connecting it to the thunderwheel with bright, crackling bolts of lightning.

The eerie sensation returned, as if insects crawled across my skin and pulled every hair upright.

Aji’s fur, our living lightning detector, bristled—this time pointing not upward but toward the cloud waterfall.

Of all the times to show up…

The girl’s face turned pale as she screamed.

"It’s the Thunder God!"