Chapter 667: The Tower of Babel, 7th Floor
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 667: The Tower of Babel, 7th Floor
Tantalus is a prison. When the Military State was cleaning up the remnants of the old kingdom, it threw all the leftover dregs, malice, and darkness down into Tantalus.
Beasts that devoured human flesh, clerics who incited duels, undertakers who scavenged the corpses of dead knights, and knights who dabbled in the forbidden to gain greater power. And the assassins who killed them.
All the foul things that had fed on the dregs of the kingdom were thrown into this trash can.
They were too foul to embrace, yet too valuable to kill. They were powers bordering on the Arcane, born from the darkness of the kingdom. The Military State, preparing for a day it might need them, locked them away in Tantalus under constant surveillance, ready to be unleashed at any moment.
The solitary beings, trapped in the prison called the Abyss, devoured one another, growing ever more grim and cruel.
And then, Lankart Spendry, a genius of unparalleled talent, brought them out into the world.
Some left. Some resisted and died. And the few who remained followed Lankart to the Mage Federation.
Among them were a Qi practitioner raised by a clan of assassins, known only by the name Dokjine, and…
The apothecary Kuram, who straddled the line between life and death with his poisons and potions.
There were only two of them, and they had a history of being subdued by Lankart, but…
In the art of killing alone, they surpassed even Lankart Spendry.
“Paladins. They don’t die easily. And there are so many of them.”
Kuram, having counted their numbers, muttered grimly.
“Dokjine. Rejoice. It’s time for your medicine.”
At his words, Dokjine stopped swinging her sword and let her mouth hang open. Wiping away a trail of drool, she forgot about the enemy behind her and clung to Kuram.
“R-Really? Is it happy time?”
“Yes. Unhappy for me, though.”
“Give it, give it to me! Give me my happiness…!”
Kuram bent one of his fingers. It bent back so far it nearly tore off, but bizarrely, not a single drop of blood emerged from the stretched digit. Only a single drop of a clear liquid oozed from the crease.
The apothecary Kuram, who had transformed all the fluids in his body into potions and poisons and modified his own physiology, was a walking pharmacy. What his finger held was a narcotic. A forbidden poison that would awaken Dokjine’s Li flowed out.
Just as he was about to hand over the shimmering droplet of medicine…
“May the Holy Spirit dwell within me!”
Cardinal Elton, having offered a prayer, clenched the cross hanging around his neck. The chain snapped, and the large crucifix settled into his hand. A pure white blade shot out from the bottom of the cross, turning it into a one-handed sword with the cross as its hilt.
The Cross Sword.
A blade of faith, wielded by a paladin in the name of God.
The blade, made of light, extended. Dokjine didn’t dodge the attack, but Kuram, wary of the holy light, quickly pulled his hand back. Light possessed the properties of purification and transmutation. The poisons and potions Kuram possessed were vulnerable to it.
Seeing his reaction, Cardinal Elton shouted.
“You fiends. You practice the Demonic Arts!”
“My… happiness…”
Dokjine’s skin began to turn black. Her eyes became bloodshot, and a red glint flashed within them.
She had learned, trained, and fought relying solely on drugs. She was only administered her medicine when she achieved results; if she failed, she suffered through horrific withdrawal symptoms, tormented all night by pain.
Burning passion, a firm and steady will, enlightenment gained through training, heaven-sent talent, and celestial luck.
These were the conditions a human needed to become a Qi practitioner.
Dokjine was the antithesis of it all.
She substituted passion with nerve-searing narcotics, replaced willpower with a craving for them, and learned not through enlightenment but through survival instincts.
Dokjine was the final product of a process that used drugs as a carrot and torture as a stick, forcing her to run like a racehorse.
Ordinarily, she should have died fighting while high on drugs. The Demonic Arts, learned through narcotics and poisons, consumed the body.
But she, too, possessed heaven-sent talent and celestial luck.
“Don’t take it away—!”
She crouched like a beast and instantly leaped forward. It was a convulsive reaction that only a human addicted to drugs would display. In the blink of an eye, she flipped her body and swung her massive blade, heavily imbued with a dark, murky Qi. The blade, carrying a tyrannical force, swung for Cardinal Elton’s neck, and his head would fall to the ground…
‘—O, Saintess of the Sky, who has blessed me!’
That vision of the future flashed briefly through Cardinal Elton’s mind.
Combat Foresight.
A great power of premonition, granted to paladins who dedicated their bodies to their faith.
Unlike the Saintess’s foresight, it could only predict a very short period of time in extremely tense situations. But in a battle where victory and defeat were decided in an instant, it was an overpowered skill. Having foreseen the future a split second later, Cardinal Elton threw his head back and unleashed a burst of holy light.
The flashing light struck Dokjine. Aiming for Elton’s neck, she was hit by the holy light and sent flying. As the paladins rushed forward to finish her off while her posture was broken…
“Hup!”
“Kugh!”
A premonition of death flashed in their minds, and they stopped dead in their tracks, unable to take more than two steps. Seeing them break out in a cold sweat and assume a defensive stance, Dokjine stomped her foot in frustration.
“Hngh…! This is so annoying! They’re the ones getting in the way!”
“Combat Foresight is tricky. It will be difficult to kill them without a Qi Art that can bend the Axiom.”
“Give it to me, Kuram! I’ll slice up all these bastards who wish for my unhappiness!!”
Combat Foresight warned of danger. It wasn’t as perfect or intense as before, but it delivered an ominous, fear-filled premonition to the paladins.
If Dokjine took the drug and began to wield the Axiom, not even Combat Foresight could protect them.
“The Sky God protects us! His light shall reach even the darkest and deepest of places!”
Cardinal Elton charged forward with a roar. The paladins, making an instant decision, moved to protect him and followed close behind. Kuram flicked the medicine he had squeezed out toward the frenzied Dokjine.
A narcotic that was potent yet had no side effects, only bringing one slowly closer to death. Dokjine stuck out her tongue for it, knowing full well it was leading her to her demise.
“Lankart.”
“Ah, right.”
Unique Magic. World of the Right-Handed.
Lankart strode between the two groups.
“Stop.”
Thump, thump.
The two forces slid past each other in a wide circle. Cardinal Elton and the paladins, Kuram and Dokjine. The two powers flailed around Lankart, tracing an arc.
The light and the blade were no different. In the World of the Right-Handed, two beings on opposite sides of Lankart could never meet.
“What is this…!”
In the World of the Right-Handed, which nullifies all leftward rotation, the coordinate system itself is warped. In a world without left turns, a straight line is heresy. But neither Cardinal Elton nor Dokjine could accept this altered reality. Both lost control of their own power and slammed into the ground.
Cardinal Elton was bewildered, but Dokjine, who had experienced this power before, was suddenly terrified.
“Lankart Spendry?”
“Hieeek… W-Why are you here?”
“There’s no need to fight. Stop.”
Lankart offered no explanation. He only left the command before turning his back. The moment his defenseless back was exposed, Dokjine bared her teeth on instinct.
“If you get in the way of my happiness, even you…!”
Her blade flashed, tearing through space. A powerful surge of Qi pierced the World of the Right-Handed, aiming for Lankart.
But it would never reach him. No matter how much she trained her Qi, even if she could touch the Axiom itself, she could not reach Lankart without understanding his Spiritual World.
“I told you. Stop.”
Lankart muttered, his voice devoid of emotion. Without even an incantation, he drew magic from his gauntlet. A blue light flared from the jewel-studded gauntlet, a piece of equipment he had modified by reinterpreting Standard Magic in his own way.
“Right-handed Screw.”
It began with a small explosion. That explosion then circled Lankart dozens of times, accelerating. It traced a spiral, yet it was more direct and faster than a curve. In the blink of an eye, the small explosion grew to the size of a person and lunged at Dokjine.
She couldn’t dodge. Dokjine was still inside the World of the Right-Handed. Even if she moved, the explosion would follow her trajectory.
Just then, Kuram reached out. His arm stretched as if it had five joints and grabbed Dokjine by the scruff of her neck. The elongated arm snapped back like a spring, and Dokjine narrowly escaped Lankart’s attack.
The flash of light that missed its target flew straight to the far wall and caused a massive explosion. A shockwave erupted in the enclosed tower, and vibrations shook the floor and ceiling. Faced with such overwhelming destruction, both Cardinal Elton and Dokjine lost their will to fight.
“You did stop, I see.”
Lankart said, seemingly unconcerned about whether Dokjine had lived or died. Cardinal Elton watched Lankart as he turned to walk away and asked.
“…Do you know them?”
“I summoned them.”
Lankart answered curtly. Cardinal Elton clutched his cross, lost in thought.
‘They attacked the paladins on sight. If not for the grace of the Saintess of the Sky who blesses us, five of us would already be dead. And the other one uses poison… To think he summoned such wicked and foul beings?’
Fear spread into doubt. Thanks to their Combat Foresight, they hadn’t died, but the paladins had all sustained injuries, large and small, from Dokjine’s attack. And they had keenly realized that if their opponents had fought at full strength, they might have been killed.
It was peaceful all the way to the 6th floor. Now, on the 7th, a problem arises.
Dokjine, panting heavily, sat with her head in her hands, seemingly terrified. Lankart ignored her and asked Kuram.
“By the way, how did you make it to the 7th floor? It shouldn’t have been possible with your knowledge.”
“I know a little magic myself. And the mercenary mage we picked up was quite competent for a stray.”
At Kuram’s glance, Hilde flinched and pulled her pointed hat down low. Her disguise wasn’t elaborate, but Lankart wasn’t one to remember faces well, so he paid her no mind.
“And we met mages every time we went up. We climbed the tower by asking them.”
“Hmm? You chose a similar method, then.”
“Similar?”
“Of course, Hughes and I solved most of the problems. But they weren’t that difficult, so this many heads put together should have been able to figure them out.”
“…I see.”
Kuram nodded, though he looked unconvinced. And for good reason.
Kuram and Dokjine’s mercenary group had tortured the mages they met, fed them poison, and then forced them to solve the puzzles.
The mages they encountered had to desperately solve the tower’s puzzles while poisoned, their lives ticking away with each passing moment. Even after the mages had solved the puzzles, desperately clinging to life as their final moments flashed before their eyes, Kuram had killed them all and taken everything they had.
Every mage Kuram met must have faced a gruesome death. Ambitious and good-natured mages who had dreamed of success would have died in vain, unable to leave even a single letter of their names on the bricks.
Lankart knew this, but he didn’t care in the slightest.
How many people died was none of his concern.
[How about it, King of Humans! You can see it clearly too, can’t you? Their malice?]
A voice, like that of a nightingale or a sparrow, whispered in my ear.
[King of Humans! I know you. I’ve studied and analyzed you diligently! As a conceptual being, you must believe in all humans, right? You accept both good and evil, affirming it all as humanity!]
No one else could hear this voice. It wasn’t just in my ears; it felt like it was being hammered directly into my brain.
But for something so forceful, it was incredibly beautiful, sweet, and gentle.
[But not everyone can be human. You can’t affirm everyone. Weak and feeble humans doubt, fear, and agonize over each other. And in the end, they make a ‘choice.’ They exclude evil and keep the good. They leave only the good and trustworthy inside their fences.]
Who is this? Did someone plant a listening device in my ear? I have no idea when I could have been infected with something like this.
[The Mage King is not to my liking, but his argument is correct. Only the chosen humans should board the ark! We must choose! Who to let on board, and who to leave to die!]
Choice? An ark?
What the hell are you talking about? Who are you to say such things? Are you hiding somewhere, transmitting your voice like a coward?!
My inner thoughts couldn’t possibly have been heard, but the voice chattered as if it had just remembered something.
[Ah! My apologies for the late introduction! I’m sure you’ve already guessed, but I should still introduce myself. It’s only polite! My name is Ruel, the Saintess of Light!]