Chapter 52. After the Ending (3)
Chapter 52. After the Ending (3)
3
We pushed through the crowd and barely made it to the café.
Familiar faces were waiting for us at the café.
"Ahaha, welcome!"
The Heretic Questioner. The Pantheon guild master waved his right arm.
"To think you'd clear the 20th floor in just five days! This is the greatest feat since the Tower was erected. I sincerely respect you, Hunter Kim Gong-ja! No, I should call you Death King now!"
"I'm still half-convinced this is a dream......"
Paladin sipped her iced coffee.
"Honestly, I thought the three of you—Black Dragon Master, Sword Saint, and yourself—would fail the raid and die. And you cleared the 20th floor alone? Impressive. If you have a secret, please do share it."
"A secret, huh."
I sat down at one side of the table.
"I just lived a good life, I guess?"
"Extremely practical advice."
Paladin gave a wry smile.
"Anyway, it's good to see you all after so long. How have you all been?"
"Well, 'so long' is only five days."
Puff. The Count drew on her long pipe.
"As promised, we stayed in the audience chamber at first. A promise is a promise. But lo and behold, after a little while, the Empire's NPCs suddenly started moving about. I was startled!"
"Ah."
This was about when we defeated the Demon King on the 12th floor.
I had defeated the Demon King and received a quest. Because of that, the frozen time had begun flowing again.
"I didn't think of that. What happened?"
"The Empire's NPCs thought we were rebels who had invaded the imperial palace!"
The Heretic Questioner beamed.
"Someone in splendid clothes shouted, 'Seize those rebels!' The Empire's knights and elite soldiers swarmed to capture us. Yaaa, it sent chills down my spine!"
"But this little runt has all sorts of tricks."
Heavenly Martial Sect Master Viper.
The one-eyed hunter ruffled the Heretic Questioner's hair.
"First we let ourselves get caught quietly, then we broke out of prison. Tch. Honestly, what a pain."
"Ahaha! Wasn't it fun! Who would've thought there'd be a secret passage hidden in the underground dungeon! It felt just like going back to my childhood!"
"Huh? Weren't you held captive by the Bulgarian mafia when you were little?"
"Yes!"
The Heretic Questioner smiled innocently.
"That's why it reminded me of my childhood, and that's why it was fun. Prison! Underground! Escape! Ahhh, they were all decorations that made my childhood shine beautifully! Now they've all become fond memories."
"Crazy bastard......"
Viper sighed heavily.
While I was busy filming my demon-king-and-hero saga, the guild master's party had apparently been having their own action adventure.
"Yeah. I get it. We all lived wonderful lives in the outside world."
The Witch shrugged and joined the table.
"The Count was born in a trash village in India. Viper, your parents were gang executives. Paladin had a rough time in Venezuela."
"......."
"So by outside-world standards, we're all trash. Aren't we?"
The café's atmosphere sank in an instant.
Only the quiet sound of Paladin sipping her coffee broke the silence.
"...That's not a topic suited for this kind of gathering."
Paladin glanced at my face.
"Does this mean you intend to treat Death King as one of [us] now?"
"Yes."
The Witch spoke.
"You all may not know this, but Death King made a decisive contribution to the Tower raid."
"We know that too."
"No, you don't."
The Witch shook her head.
"In this raid, we didn't lose a single person. Even on the 11th floor, where countless hunters participated together, not one died. All of it was thanks to Death King sharing strategies and tactics with me."
The hunters' gazes converged on me.
Hm.
"It's true."
"I."
The Witch spoke.
"I want to make this man the hero who represents our Tower."
Silence settled over the café.
The Witch looked around at the hunters surrounding the table, one by one.
"Count, you're too obsessed with money."
"True, I can't deny it."
"Heretic Questioner, you've killed too many people."
"Yes! It was a necessary sacrifice!"
"Paladin, you hate receiving attention from others altogether."
"It's a personal disposition."
"And Viper, you......"
"Huh? What?"
"...Sorry, you're too ugly."
"......."
Viper's mouth opened and closed. He looked aggrieved. But he soon hung his head low.
It was a portrait that conveyed the sorrow of middle age.
"Sword Saint, as you know, is an old man obsessed with nothing but the sword."
"Hmm."
"As for me, I often have to work in the shadows, so I can't do it."
After surveying the table in order, the Witch finally turned to me.
"Death King, on the other hand, has no public image whatsoever yet. If we put in the effort, we can shape him into a perfect hero. This is an opportunity. An opportunity to renew the Tower's image."
"Indeed."
The Heretic Questioner stroked his chin.
"It's true that we old-timers have lost some of our punch! The magazines keep covering hunter news, but circulation in the outside world is steadily declining!"
"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."
"Then we should start working on your public image today!"
With a hup, the Heretic Questioner stood up.
And then he began circling around me like a puppy.
"Hmm, you are a bit short. That's fine! As you can see from me, being photogenic covers everything!"
"Uh......"
Wait, wasn't emphasizing your own smallness your charm point?
A bright smile bloomed on that tiny hunter's tiny face.
"[Small but Hot, Death King]. If we go with a slogan like that, it'll really land!"
Before I could say anything, the hunters approached.
The Witch, the Count, Viper, Paladin.
Regardless of affiliation, they came close and inspected my entire body meticulously.
"Just in case, I must ask—are you currently seeing anyone?"
"Uh... no."
"And the people you've dated since entering the Tower?"
"None."
"In other words, no risk of scandal. Excellent!"
I had no idea what was so excellent.
The top-ranking hunters began whispering among themselves.
"I've been watching him from the side this whole time, and when this man smiles, he looks a little sly. So I'm thinking we push a mysterious concept. He's good at keeping a blank face, so it's fine."
"But having no romantic partner at all is a problem."
Paladin spoke.
"We need to fabricate a romance if none exists. Otherwise, the outside people will spread baseless rumors again......"
"Don't worry, I'll handle that myself."
"Oho! So the scenario is that love blossomed while fighting together for five days. Ahaha, excellent! We can craft exactly the kind of story people love!"
"How about this—he donated a significant portion of his earnings to an orphanage? I've been making anonymous donations for just such an occasion. Let's say it was actually Death King's donation."
"Yes. Please do, Count."
What the hell.
What was happening right now?
"First, let's call a photographer! Let's take some shots!"
The Heretic Questioner smiled brightly.
"Call in all the designers too. We'll need to distribute at least one photo to the press today anyway. There are already a few videos of the 11th-floor battle, so we'll release those online at the right time!"
No.
Wait.
"Um, everyone......"
"Don't you worry."
The Witch cut me off and smiled.
It was a smile that carried deep experience.
"Death King, you don't need to do anything. We'll take care of everything. You just... yes. Just keep doing what you've been doing."
"Wait, you said mysterious concept. Don't we not need designers for that?"
"Just for today, please."
The Witch folded her hands neatly.
"The whole world wants to know about you. One photo. Let's just take one photo and show it to people. Okay? It's fine, Death King. The designers we have exclusive contracts with are amazing."
As it turned out thirty minutes later, it was absolutely not just one photo.
"Please look this way!"
Click!
Ten designers swarmed in and dressed me. They touched my hair. Every time clothes were put on me and my hair was touched, the photographer fired the flash.
"Yes, good. This time, hold the dagger! Like a wolf stalking its prey in the grass!"
"No... wait......"
"Very good!"
Click!
Behind the photographer, the hunters had gathered in a cluster. They inspected my poses with hawk eyes and whispered.
"Doesn't he suit formal wear surprisingly well?"
"Maybe we should go with a bit of a mischievous feel."
"No! The mischievous concept is already taken by me!"
"Fair enough. Then how about a youth burning with adventurous spirit?"
"Let's go with that."
Click!
"Very good!"
Very good, my ass.
-Pfft-hahahaha! Pfft, pfft! Kehahahahaha!
The guardian spirit had been rolling around in midair for a while now.
One hour passed, then two, and still there was no sign of the shoot ending. Eventually, my patience snapped.
"I'm done! I quit!"
I tore off the suit and flung it to the floor.
"A hunter just needs to climb the Tower! Media image, photo shoots—what the hell! You all spent years stuck below the 10th floor because you wasted time on this pointless crap!"
Silence.
Had my heartfelt words landed? The air turned cold. The Witch and all the other hunters stared at my face intently.
And then they nodded.
"...That line just now wasn't bad."
"Hmm. Truly a youth burning with adventurous spirit!"
"Let's make this issue's magazine slogan [A Hunter Is One Who Climbs the Tower]."
"We had that kind of passion in our twenties too......"
It didn't land at all.
"Oh, forget it! I came here to talk about the 20th floor. I'll give you all the rights to floors 11 through 19, so make the 20th floor my territory!"
The hunters nodded again.
"A concept of having no greed could be good too."
"How about this for tomorrow's newspaper headline? [Death King, Surprise Announcement. Declares He Will Distribute Rights to Floors 11-19 to All Hunters. States He Is Satisfied Simply with Raiding the Tower.]"
"I approve!"
"On the second page, we can run an article titled [Death King, Known to Have Donated to Orphanages Regularly]."
"Yes. Let's say we gave him the 20th floor as a token of our gratitude and respect."
"Perfect! Ah, what a beautiful finish!"
Wrong.
They didn't listen to a damn word I said.
These people were completely absorbed in the idea of turning me into a hero.
"Give it up, young man."
Sword Saint said bluntly.
The elderly swordsman stood with his back against a building pillar.
"The same thing happened when I reached rank 1. They went on about "old-age swagger," how I should grow my beard differently. I heard all sorts of nonsense."
Good lord.
"Those children want to show the outside world something. That [we too are living decent, upright lives]. It's a kind of inferiority complex."
The old man muttered.
"They came to the Tower after abandoning everything in the outside world, and yet. What could be so regretful......"
Sword Saint turned on his heel.
"Let's go."
"Pardon?"
"If we stay here, there'll be no end to it. After the photos, they'll say let's shoot a video. After the video, they'll say let's prepare a press conference. That's how those children are. If we don't run now, the whole day will vanish."
That was a horrifying thought.
I answered without a moment's hesitation.
"Let's run!"
"A sound decision."
We channeled aura into our feet and ran. I heard a shout of "Ah!" from behind us, but we didn't stop.
"Death King!"
The Witch shouted.
"I'm holding a press conference tomorrow, so come back in the morning if you can! Move in secret so people don't spot you! When you run, use the rooftops! Be careful!"
The guardian spirit cackled.
-Hey, that woman isn't an angel or a goddess. She's just your mom, isn't she?
She really was.
Though I had no idea what a mother was supposed to be like.
4
Before I knew it, the world was bathed in sunset.
As the Witch had advised, we fled across the rooftops. Looking down from above, hundreds of people were still gathered in front of the café.
As a bonus, reporters from broadcasting stations were swarming around too.
'Good thing we didn't go out the front entrance!'
We leaped across the red-tinted rooftops.
The place where we stopped was the bell tower standing in the plaza.
The guard who had been fiddling with his smartphone while watching over the bell tower recognized us belatedly.
"Gasp! S-Sword Saint!"
"Hm."
Sword Saint landed lightly on the bell tower.
"I'm sorry, but could you step aside for a moment?"
"Ah, well... that is......"
"Five minutes will be enough."
The young guard floundered. Of course he'd be flustered when a living legend asked him to step aside. Then his eyes met mine, and the guard's eyes went wide.
"Could it be... Death King?"
"Ah, yes."
"Whoa. Whoa! I've never seen you in person before, whoa! Amazing!"
The guard fumbled and rummaged through his bag. A romance novel tumbled out. It seemed he'd brought various things to pass the time while on guard duty.
"Th-this is the only paper I have on me right now! Could I please get an autograph?!"
Sword Saint took the novel as if he were used to this.
"Do you have a pen?"
"H-here it is!"
"What's your name?"
"I-I haven't received an alias yet......!"
The elderly swordsman signed with clean, practiced movements.
The guard accepted the autograph like an innocent boy, then turned to me.
For some reason, his eyes were sparkling intensely.
"C-could I ask you too, Death King?!"
"Uh."
My autograph?
"I've never really signed anything before......"
"It's my lifelong wish! Please, I beg you!"
Before I knew it, I'd been handed the novel and the pen.
Getting an autograph was his lifelong wish? How light was his life?
I looked down at the novel a little awkwardly. Sword Saint's autograph was already written there. I raised the pen to sign, and then it suddenly occurred to me that this was the first time I'd ever written the name "Death King" in letters.
By the time I realized it, Sword Saint's handwriting and mine were already written side by side.
+
Sword Saint劍星.
Death King死王.
+
"......."
"Th-thank you! Thank you so much!"
The guard bowed repeatedly. As if afraid the autographs might vanish somewhere, he quickly took the novel back.
As the guard took the novel away, I was seized by a strange feeling—though I couldn't quite tell what kind of feeling it was.
"Um......"
"I'll treasure it as a family heirloom! Don't worry! I'll never sell it to anyone! Ah, thank you both so much! Have a wonderful weekend!"
The guard hurried down the bell tower stairs. His excited voice—"Yes! Jackpot!"—faded further and further below.
When the voice finally disappeared, what remained in the bell tower was a single patch of red sunset.
Only the quiet sound of their breathing remained.
"......."
For a while, neither of us spoke.
And then.
"Um, Sword Saint."
"Young man."
My voice and Sword Saint's collided and faded. We had both spoken at the same time.
The awkward silence, however, didn't last long.
I spoke.
"To you, Sword Saint, I must look like someone who has killed an unimaginable number of people—a mass murderer who must be judged."
I looked at Sword Saint with a calm face.
"But if you look in a mirror, Sword Saint, you'll see another mass murderer who has killed an unimaginable number of people. I mean you."
Sword Saint was gazing not at me but at the sunset.
"But you would never try to judge yourself for that. That must be because you have a clear standard when it comes to killing. Namely, the standard of [punishing those who have harmed many]."
I continued speaking toward that profile, stained by the twilight.
"I, too, have acted according to a clear standard. Namely, the standard of [punishing those who will harm many]."
This was something I had been preparing ever since I lied to Sword Saint about being a prophet.
"If you killed someone because that someone had killed many in the past, then I have killed someone because that someone would kill many in the future."
It was an elaborate lie prepared especially for Sword Saint.
"So, Sword Saint. You and I are, in fact, walking the same path......"
"Young man."
But before I could finish saying it, the old man quietly called to me.
"There's no need to convince yourself like that."
Hm.
"Sword Saint, I......"
"Young man."
At that low call, I closed my mouth.
The old man spoke, his gaze still fixed on the setting sun.
"You are different from the other hunters."
At first glance, it seemed like a random statement.
"Black Witch, the Count, Heretic Questioner, Viper, Paladin....... They're all children who suffered terribly in the outside world. But you are different. You were born without want and lived without lack."
Marcus Calenbury.
I knew the old man before me came from a distinguished family. Rather than knowing it, I had searched it up back when I was investigating him. A renowned noble house in Northern Europe, they said.
"When the Tower appeared in the world, I had already built a family. I had run a business, married, had children, and watched my children have grandchildren. I had already succeeded as much as one could succeed."
Sword Saint's voice was calm.
"But a question came to me."
"What kind of question?"
"Whether the success I had achieved truly came from my own ability alone. I simply became curious."
The old man slowly drew his sword from its sheath.
"Was it not simply thanks to being born into a good family?"
The sunset shone.
The sword was red even though it had cut nothing.
"Born to a good family, receiving a good education, meeting good friends, drinking only the finest things as I grew—was I nothing more than a bird raised on all the best things? I pride myself on having achieved everything on my own, but... perhaps it is merely the delusion of one trapped in a cage."
Sword Saint spoke.
"No."
His voice was sharp as a blade.
"That cannot be."
A heart as red as the sunset was carried in those words.
"I was certainly born enjoying good things. But even so, I had the pride of having stood tall on my own. I wanted to prove that my pride was not a delusion."
"...So that's why you came to the Tower."
"Hm."
The old man nodded.
His wrinkles were deep and thick.
"Those who enter the Tower can never return to the outside world. Only this one body. In this place, with no family, no relatives, no close aides to support me... I wanted to prove my life with my own body alone."
"But..." Sword Saint muttered.
"It seems I let my guard down without realizing it."
"......."
"Open skill card, reveal."
Flash!
A silver card rose from Sword Saint's hand.
+
[Detective's Insight]
Rank: B-
Effect: You can learn the target's kill count. Indirect killings are not included. Only murders committed with clear intent are counted.
※However, the method of the murders cannot be learned.
+
"It was foolish."
Sword Saint looked down at his own skill card.
"I had resolved to trust only my own eyes and hands... but before I knew it, truly before I knew it, I had come to rely on this thing called a [skill]. I came to see through skills rather than seeing with my own eyes, and I blindly trusted the skill's judgment rather than judging for myself."
And then.
"Young man, let me ask one last thing."
The old man's blue eyes turned toward me.
"Have you ever killed even a single innocent life?"
So that was it.
So that's why he said there was no need to convince myself—I understood.
Yes. Understanding was something done with the "head," just as I had done moments ago.
No matter how elaborate a lie, it could only hook someone's head like that. It could never capture a person's heart.
"No."
Not understanding, but persuasion.
"I have never done such a thing, Sword Saint."
Just as I had done when facing the Tower's pillar.
I spoke through my heart.
"And I never will."
Sword Saint quietly closed his eyes.
As if savoring my expression and voice.
Silence fell.
And then.
"...Hup!"
The card flew.
The card that flew into the air was split by a red blade.
The card split in two.
Golden sunset light seeped through the gap.
"I will trust my own eyes."
Soon, the card turned to particles of light and scattered.
The skill had been destroyed.
"You worked hard these past five days. Thank you for humoring an old man's stubbornness."
Sword Saint sheathed his sword.
"It's late to say this now, but breaking through floors 12 to 19 with you was quite an enjoyable experience. Rest well today. Once tomorrow's press conference is over, the 21st floor will open immediately."
The old man stepped on the floor.
Just before leaping to another building's rooftop, he glanced back at me.
"I look forward to your performance on the next floor, Death King."
And in an instant, he was gone from the bell tower.
"......."
I stood there blankly for a long time.
Still dazed, I spoke.
"Sir Sword Emperor, just now......"
-Yeah.
"Sword Saint, you just acknowledged me, right?"
-Seemed like it.
Relief washed over me.
"Waaah......"
The strength left my knees, and I slowly sank down. The stone floor was cool. I stared blankly at the sky, which had stopped reddening and begun to darken.
"Wow, it's really... really over. The 20th floor is mine now. The guild masters will handle the media and all that....... Yes, it's really all over."
The guardian spirit snorted.
-Over, my ass. Anyone listening would think you cleared the 50th floor.
"Feels like I cleared the 90th floor."
-Tsk tsk tsk. Zombie, sometimes I can't tell if you've got huge guts or tiny guts.
"Honestly, sometimes I can't tell either......"
Anyway, everything up to the 20th floor was wrapped up.
I was thinking that, wrapped in a strange sense of fullness, when—
[The Goddess of Protection marvels at your achievements!]
A voice I hadn't heard in a while rang out.
"Huh?"
Come to think of it.
Despite defeating the Demon King of Fall Rain, the Goddess of Protection had been silent. No, except for when we first broke through the 12th floor, the Goddess of Protection had actually always been silent.
[The Goddess of Protection acknowledges all of your deeds!]
As if venting all the frustration accumulated during that silence, the messages came one after another.
[The Goddess of Protection considers that even if your claim of being her apostle is a lie, you are fully qualified to actually become one.]
[The Goddess of Protection acknowledges that you may continue to use her from now on!]
But something strange was mixed in there.
"...Continue to use her? What does that mean?"
[The Goddess of Protection is hurt, asking what you mean after all the time you've spent together.]
That made even less sense.
"All the time we've spent together?"
[The Goddess of Protection tells you to look down.]
I looked down.
There was nothing but the stone floor.
[The Goddess of Protection tells you to look a little more to the left.]
I shifted my gaze to the left.
There were my legs and my waist.
At my waist hung the legendary-grade weapon the first emperor of the Aegim Empire had received from the goddess—Lefanta Aegim's Holy Sword of Protection, sheathed.
"...Wait. Could it be?"
[The Goddess of Protection urges you to focus your gaze on your waist.]
A chill ran down my spine.
The scene of fighting against the Demon King's army on the 12th floor suddenly came to mind.
Back then, I had clearly heard the Goddess of Protection's voice ring out, saying she was squeezing out her last strength. The moment those words ended, something I was holding had emitted a white light.
There had been no other miracle besides that.
In other words.
"No, wait. Don't tell me the [Goddess of Protection] that was occasionally mentioned while fighting the Demon King was......"
I spoke, hardly daring to believe it.
"You... were you a 'sword'?"
A moment later.
The voice answered.
[The Goddess of Protection affirms!]
Good lord.
It seemed the holy sword I had been using was, in fact, truly a holy sword.