Chapter 33
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 33
He had to end this in a single blow. No matter how exhausted she seemed, she was not an opponent to be taken lightly.
Haim was no match for Rene.
But a demon using Amer as a medium was another story entirely.
"Well then, farewell."
With a smirk, Haim fled to the lower floor. Amer's corpse slowly floated into the air. Bent, twisted, and withered, its grotesque form was so unrecognizable that anyone who hadn't witnessed the transformation would never have guessed it was once human.
The ground shook. The Magic Tower convulsed.
Grotesque, violet appendages erupted from Amer's corpse, stretching in all directions before coalescing. From a pool of violet fluid rose a mass of limbs, indistinguishable as arms or legs. Dozens of jagged teeth bared themselves through sickening flesh, and a hideous, single eye peered out from sagging skin to greet Rene.
Having shed its vessel of flesh, the demon let out a deafening shriek. The shockwave sent Rene's silver hair whipping wildly about her. The strands, fluttering like silver threads, obscured her vision. Through her damaged right eye, the demon's form was nothing more than a blurry smudge—not that it was a sight she particularly cared to see clearly. For once, she was grateful for her ruined eye.
Rene quietly muttered, "Pathetic."
The word was for the demon before her. It was for Amer, who had died in agony. And it was for herself.
She stood no chance against that thing. Not in her battered state, without a single proper weapon to her name.
What was about to unfold would be no grand battle. It would be a slaughter—a tragedy where a single, powerless maid was brutally torn apart. Because she was weak. Because right now, Rene Rellow was utterly helpless.
Had she resolved to flee, she might have found an opportunity, but…
—This is where Rene pays for her sins.
There was no meaning left in her life, anyway. Nor did she wish to degrade herself any further.
—Erasing her 'true footsteps.' Here. Forever.
The drooling demon roared once more. Propelled by countless legs sprouting from its body, it closed the distance in an instant. Among its many tentacle-like hands, the longest and thinnest reached for her. Rene bit her lip, trying to suppress her disgust as something slimy pressed against her forehead. A voice echoed in her mind, carving words directly into her brain. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, it was not a language she could comprehend.
Yet, she could feel one thing with absolute certainty: her death was imminent.
Yes. Is this where Rene dies?
To die a hideous death at the hands of a hideous creature. How fitting. A punishment. Is the causality of the world declaring that this was all Rene's fault?
She already knew. She knew this was all her fault. She knew Master Swallow would hate her for it. Yes, Rene is a sinner. This is a well-deserved death for the sinful Rene.
But even so…
"…With those filthy hands…"
To overwrite the scent Master Swallow left on Rene's body…
"Don't you dare overwrite it!"
She drew the dagger she had been clutching.
It happened in a flash. Rene lunged, slashing at the demon before her.
First, she plunged the blade straight into the center of the massive, hideous eye staring down at her. The demon shrieked in agony. A torrent of greenish-brown slime erupted from the wound, staining her pale pink dress.
Wrenching the dagger free, Rene squeezed out every last drop of her strength to drive it deep under the demon's jaw. Demons had no hearts; it was the only place that seemed like a vital point.
Even if I die, I'm taking you with me—
But a mere dagger was not enough.
The demon's counterattack sent Rene flying.
Through her fading vision, she saw dozens of its arms and hundreds of its fingers. Their sharp claws were like stakes. Hundreds of stakes, all pointed at her at once.
It intended to impale her, to tear her to shreds.
Ah.
—As I thought. It wasn't enough.
She closed her eyes, a deep sorrow settling over her.
Regrettably, her life did not flash before her eyes.
Perhaps it's because Rene feels no fear in death. Closing her eyes and shutting out the world, she pictured Master Swallow.
Would Master Swallow be sad if he knew Rene died?
When he first saved her, the situation had been much like this. Her body and mind had withered, and she could find no reason to live. The Swallow who appeared before her then was dark and black, yet to Rene, he was an infinitely dazzling savior.
She recalled what Bathory had said earlier. That the Primordial Core was fighting the Subjugation Squad. Everyone must be busy. They can't come. Even if they could, they wouldn't.
She had thought she would die without regrets, yet a heavy lump formed in her chest.
One last time—"…Master Swallow."
Rene wanted to see you.
Even with her eyes closed, she could sense the shifting shadows as a foul-smelling darkness eclipsed her completely. This was truly the end.
Or so she thought.
A deafening explosion suddenly tore through the air, momentarily paralyzing her hearing.
A violent gust of wind followed. A faint sliver of light pierced her eyelids, telling her that the foul-smelling shadow had vanished. She could tell from the direction of the wind and the nature of the shockwave.
The demon hadn't disappeared. It had collided with an immense force and been blown away.
Even as she questioned what was happening, Rene doubted her own senses. The energy that washed over her was a dark force so absolute—no, it was something far denser than mere dark energy. Something blacker than black, deeper than the abyss. Something so profound that any ordinary creature would surely go mad the instant they tried to comprehend it.
That very presence had just descended upon the entire Magic Tower with a heavy, rattling weight.
It was unfathomable. An alien aura that defied all common sense. Those who possessed such power were virtually nonexistent.
Save for one.
Rene knew the source of this aura. It belonged to the one person who could not possibly be here.
Just as she was about to open her eyes, she felt the warmth of arms catching her in mid-fall. With the utmost care, as if worried she might break, they gently lowered her to the ground.
Rene trembled. Had she been alone, she would have burst into tears, utterly overwhelmed.
Though her eyes remained closed, she did not need to see to be certain.
Is it really you? Is this not a dream?
Master Swallow.
Phase. 9
The demon flew dozens of meters, shattering three pillars before crashing into the floor.
Unable to absorb the impact, the Magic Tower shuddered violently. Stone debris rained from the ceiling like a spring shower. Where the demon had crashed, a thick cloud of dust billowed like fog.
Swallow walked slowly toward the shroud of dust.
His stride was short, showing no haste. His sluggish, plodding steps gave off an air of reluctance, perfectly in line with his usual demeanor. His lips were pressed into a tight line, showing no intention of speaking.
His expression was dark. Or rather, because Demeura was absent, his physical form was fluctuating and unstable, giving him a shadowy, ominous appearance.
They say the most terrifying expression is a lack of one.
As if to prove the adage, Swallow's face was chillingly blank. He looked completely vacant, as if wearing a mask, making his thoughts utterly unreadable.
Approaching the demon, Swallow slowly reached out.
As he did, dozens of stakes erupted from the ground, impaling his arm. The demon roared. Though half its body had been obliterated moments ago, it had already fully regenerated.
Unbothered, Swallow grabbed the demon.
He lifted it effortlessly, raised it high, and slammed it into the floor.
Crash!
With a deafening boom, the floor caved in. He hoisted the demon once more and slammed it down in the exact same spot. Unable to withstand the second impact, the floor collapsed entirely. Still holding the demon, Swallow dragged it several meters.
Then, he swung it again.
He shook it lightly, as if flicking water from his hands, yet with every flick, gaping holes tore through the floor. After a relentless pummeling, only when the riddled floor showed signs of imminent collapse did Swallow finally lift the demon to inspect it.
Most of its body had been pulverized, dripping greenish-brown slime, yet its flesh continued to knit itself back together. Endlessly.
Frowning slightly, Swallow threw the demon downward, putting real force into it this time. A chain reaction of collapsing floors echoed through the tower—six distinct crashes. He had thrown it straight through the hole, all the way to the ground floor.
Only when the Magic Tower stopped shaking did Swallow dust off his hands.
He stood in silence for a few seconds before turning around and walking slowly toward Rene. But as he took his first steps, a dark red light erupted from the hole behind him.
He stopped. Frowning, Swallow scratched the back of his head. His expression practically screamed, What a pain.
The demon rose once more from the abyss. This time, it had sprouted wings. Though its body was smaller, the dark energy radiating from it had doubled in density. Its massive, single eye glared at the back of Swallow's head as a colossal torrent of mana began to swirl before it.
It was magic—but of a kind fundamentally different from the structured, "standardized" spells used by humans.
The way the raw, sickening black mana condensed resembled the high-tier spell <Black Extermination>, but judging by the way space warped around the sphere, its destructive power was on another level entirely.
Swallow could easily guess the demon's intent. A demon's magic never accounted for collateral damage. That was why it was called "raw magic." If that black sphere, fueled by the siphoned energy of the Magic Tower, was unleashed, the entire surrounding area would be reduced to ashes.
"Ah, I get it."
Turning back to look at the sphere, Swallow muttered softly as if in realization.
"The Magic Tower's mana is what's keeping you going."
Having figured it out, there was no reason to wait.
Swallow opened his mouth.
It happened in a split second.
A massive, hideous black maw erupted from Swallow's face, baring thousands of razor-sharp teeth at the demon and its spell. It expanded, enveloping the demon, its magic, and roughly a quarter of the Magic Tower itself.
The gaping maw snapped shut, silently devouring everything in its grasp.
That was all. The process was so anticlimactically simple.
A chilly breeze swept through the gaping hole in the Magic Tower. The only sound remaining was the hollow whistling of the wind against the shattered walls, as if nothing had ever happened.
Turning around once more, Swallow walked back toward Rene.
"Rene."
He managed to utter her name with great effort.
* * *
Amidst the crumbling Magic Tower, only the two of them remained perfectly still.
Rene sat curled up, her face buried between her knees. The warmth pressing against her back was no illusion. Master Swallow—the one she had yearned to see so desperately—was sitting right behind her, back-to-back.
"Well, you see… I had so much I wanted to say to you when we met," Swallow said.
"But now that you're here, my mind has gone completely blank," he added.
"If I'd known, I should have written it down."
"..."
"Ah, right. This just crossed my mind, but on my way up, I ran into some green-haired human. I killed him since he was in my way… That wasn't a problem, was it?"
He rambled on with trivial remarks. Though her lips parted slightly, no sound escaped Rene.
"…Sigh."
Silence fell over them once more.
Dust and pebbles trickled down from the cracked ceiling. A small piece of debris tapped Swallow on the shoulder before bouncing off, as if urging him to say something meaningful. Swallow flinched slightly.
"Rene."
"…I am listening, Master Swallow."
His tone was much more serious now, his low voice lingering in the air. Only then did a raspy whisper escape Rene's parched throat.
"I'm sorry about what happened a few days ago."
"…Rene no longer has the right to face you, Master Swallow."
"The Primordial Core needs a gatekeeper named Rene. And I… I need you, Rene."
"Rene does not have the confidence to live up to those expectations."
Once more, silence drifted between them.
"…Master Swallow."
"I'm listening."
"Do you not resent Rene, Master Swallow?"
"I don't resent you."
"Do you not hate Rene, Master Swallow?"
"I don't hate you."
"Rene is…"
Her voice trailed off. Clasping her hands tightly, her entire body trembled. This time, a piece of falling debris grazed her wrist. Droplets of blood began to seep out.
"Rene is scared."
Afraid of being abandoned, afraid of being hated.
Giving affection on her own, harboring expectations on her own. Getting hurt on her own, yet unable to endure it and causing trouble for everyone like this—only to be afraid once more. Afraid of being abandoned, afraid of being hated.
"Let's go back, Rene."
With those words, Swallow reached out his hand.
He had always been this way.
The ceiling rumbled violently, a clear sign that the Magic Tower would soon collapse. Swallow slowly stood up and began rummaging through his pockets.
The familiar clatter of metal echoed against the floor. Then came a sharp riiiip—the sound of something being torn. Rene slowly raised her bowed head.
"This is what you left behind. And…"
Though she couldn't see his face, she could feel his hesitation as Swallow spoke slowly.