Self-Proof

Refreshing. When was the last time my mind had been this clear?

Every time I entered the Tower, a dull throb would settle in some corner of my skull, accompanied by a strange sense of wrongness — but today, there was none of that.

It was like waking from a deep, unbroken sleep. Everything was whole. Everything was perfect.

"So. How shall I cook you?"

I wanted to share this joy with them somehow. The only question was how.

A happy dilemma, if ever there was one.

"Ah — before that. What are your names?"

"Kree! Names! Only for great warriors!"

"Oh-ho."

The answer ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that came back with that rough snort was rather interesting.

"I see. Names are granted only to great warriors. Then how does one become a great warrior?"

"Kree! Strong warrior live long! Long-lived warrior strong!"

"Hmm. Indeed."

The one who survives to the end of the battlefield is strong.

A simple, lucid logic. In the broad strokes, it was not so different from the doctrine of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.

"Then — is there any among you who has a name?"

"Kree! Not yet! But soon!"

"Hah."

They were already planning to outlive this seat. Naturally.

"I like that."

Truly admirable. For mere vermin, they held a rather fine philosophy.

"Had circumstances been otherwise, this seat would have personally converted you."

Regrettably, the present situation was not particularly friendly for either side.

This was the Tower.

To climb higher, one had to smash the enemy standing in the way.

"But this seat will make you one promise."

Even if not your names — your faces, your bodies — I will make them famous.

"They say a tiger leaves its hide when it dies, and a man leaves his name. You are not men, so a hide will have to do."

Saaaah.

From the tips of my fingers, a pure white began to spread.

I exhaled lightly, and a plume of white breath scattered into the air.

But this was different from a moment ago.

Rather than merely gathering cold at my fingertips, I circulated the energy through my entire body, dropping the ambient temperature itself — a kind of applied technique.

It was a method once demonstrated by ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a master of the Ice White Divine Palm I had met in the past.

Whenever she took a step, a three-foot radius around her would freeze solid.

As expected, copying it is not so easy.

In this seat's current state, mimicking the technique she had shown required an enormous amount of internal energy.

Even with the skill's assistance, this is the best I can manage?

Originally, a Tower skill was like an arrow already nocked on the string — ready to fire the moment you willed it.

What this seat was doing now, however, was forcing countless arrows onto a bow that had already been strung to a fixed specification.

As a result, the amount of internal energy bleeding away with each arrow I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠loaded was staggering.

Of course, it is no great problem.

This seat's internal energy was merely a guide. The vast majority of what was being consumed came from the natural energy overflowing through the Tower itself.

"Kree! Die, witch!"

As the floor began to freeze from beneath my feet, they seemed to sense the danger at last — and with a roar, they charged.

Slow. I understood the sentiment, but they were so slow it was almost laughable.

And look — their hands on those axes were trembling, unable to hide their fear.

That is why this seat acknowledges you.

The fighting spirit to charge again even after this seat had already shown an overwhelming gap.

The courage to throw yourselves forward even knowing death was at your throats.

And the will to leave a name upon this world — that much, I hold in high regard.

So then.

"Come. May you survive long enough to leave a name behind."

This seat smiled and reached out a hand.

A savage storm of cold swept out in every direction.

"Hmmm."

The Blood Demon, Cao Feilong, opened his eyes in a truly long-overdue state of good cheer.

"Heh heh heh."

When was the last time he had greeted a morning this pleasant? The memory was so distant it had gone hazy.

Until recently, the cause of the Blood Demon's foul moods had been ranking number one — SUPER — nine times out of ten. Lately, though, the story had shifted.

The Heavenly Demon.

The shock of discovering that a rising Awakened he had naturally assumed was Chinese turned out to be Korean had been enormous.

Of course, Cao Feilong had not despaired.

He had pored over the Korean government's announcements again and again, and he had seen through to the Heavenly Demon's true identity.

Of everyone in the world, only he had grasped this truth. That much was certain — after all, not a single person had thought to question that idiotic declaration.

Only I.

Only I know the Heavenly Demon's true identity.

Clearly the Heavenly Demon was a fellow countryman living in Korea. Under the Korean government's petty coercion, he had been forced to issue a statement claiming he was Korean. It was obvious.

So he had no choice but to step forward. No — there was no one else who could.

The only person who could save him.

And so the Blood Demon had willingly stepped into the open for his oppressed countryman.

How much effort had the Blood Demon poured into reaching his current position? That position could have vanished without a trace over a single statement — a public criticism of a foreign government.

And still the Blood Demon had done it. Solely to save the Heavenly Demon!

But the ignorant masses failed to grasp the Blood Demon's deep intent. In the end, right after the statement, Feilong had been forced to take a phone call from his father for the first time in a very long while.

"Feilong."

"Yes, Father."

"Today's matter was rash."

"…I know."

"Your statement has made things troublesome. The water is already spilled, so I will support you as best I can, but…"

He didn't need to hear the rest.

"I will produce results. Without fail."

"See that you do."

Click.

That short father-and-son call ended there.

It was always like this, so he didn't even have the leisure to feel something as novel as sadness.

That had been a mere two days ago.

Results. I will produce them. Without fail.

He had stirred things up this thoroughly — how long could those bastards hold out?

Sooner or later they would bring the Heavenly Demon out for a press conference or some other response.

Then he would make contact with the Heavenly Demon and bring him home. That was all.

The plan was perfect.

He had already reviewed it in his head any number of times. There was no room for variables.

With that conviction, the Blood Demon reflexively switched on the TV.

A simple breakfast while watching the news — one of the Blood Demon's long-standing morning routines.

And not even his own country's news, but foreign broadcasts.

The reason the Blood Demon kept up with overseas media was simple.

Seventy percent was the hope that ranking number one, SUPER, might have bitten his tongue and died overnight. The remaining thirty percent was to keep abreast of international affairs.

"Nothing of note."

The news was ordinary.

Nothing but a dull report that the Blood Demon's statement from a few days ago had become a topic of discussion.

"Nothing else worth watching."

It was about time for the weather forecast. Just as the Blood Demon was about to switch the TV off without a second thought—

"B-breaking news!"

As if it had been waiting for that exact moment, the anchor's urgent voice cut in, and a red banner reading BREAKING NEWS flashed across the bottom of the screen.

"Hm?"

A strange sense of unease pinned the Blood Demon's gaze back to the display.

"A-a video has been posted to a Korean community by someone claiming to be the Heavenly Demon!"

"The Heavenly Demon?"

I was about to go rescue him — what's this about a video all of a sudden?

As if entranced, the Blood Demon fixed his attention on the footage playing behind the anchor.

The location was the Tower.

Judging by the orcs, it was clearly a zone in the tenth-floor range. Recalling the record of the Heavenly Demon recently clearing the tenth floor, there was nothing particularly strange about the backdrop.

Thud-thud-thud-thud!

The Heavenly Demon in the video.

His identity had clearly been mosaicked out to conceal it — but the insane destructive power that turned an orc into a pincushion in an instant was plain to see.

Huh. He can use magic too?

Then a hybrid class?

Could a hybrid line — known for its slow growth — produce firepower that intense from the early stages?

What followed was even more shocking.

CRACK!

A technique that froze an entire orc solid in a single stroke.

Fascinating.

There was a skill like that?

It was far too alien to dismiss as simple ice magic. He had never heard of — never even imagined — a method of wrapping freeze magic around the body itself like sword aura.

And then.

CRRRAACK—!

"What — he's freezing the entire area?"

He had unleashed cold in every direction and frozen the whole vicinity solid.

As I thought.

That man had to be made the property of the great nation, by any means necessary.

If that raw gemstone, already shining so brilliantly on its own, were perfectly cut and polished in the hands of the great nation — SUPER, the Guardians, all of them would kneel at the feet of the great nation and the Blood Demon.

With every second, he wanted the Heavenly Demon more.

"Hmm. But what's the problem here?"

It was just an ordinary Tower clear video showing the Heavenly Demon's exploits, wasn't it?

"What comes next is even more shocking."

The anchor spoke with a rigidly set face.

Shocking or not, how bad could it be? The Blood Demon snorted and kept his eyes locked on the screen.

"Huh? Huh?"

And then he saw it — the scene the anchor had called shocking.

The Tower. Immediately after clearing the 11th floor on Nightmare difficulty.

"Heavenly Demon — wait a moment."

There was still work to be done.

"Hmm. Will this do?"

Having worked at it from the floor, grunting and straining, it was hard to be sure the shape had come out properly.

He briefly considered leaping into the air for a bird's-eye view of the whole picture, then decided it wasn't necessary.

"Well. This seat's intent should come across clearly enough."

If anything, a touch of clumsiness made the message easier to convey.

"Very well."

In the next moment, his entire body was enveloped in a radiant mass of light.

All that remained in the empty space were the corpses of orcs, laid out at regular intervals.

"AAAAARGH! HEAVENLY DEMON!"

The Blood Demon lost all reason and screamed like a madman.

On the TV screen, the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠message the Heavenly Demon had left using orc corpses stood out in stark clarity.