The One Loved by the Goddess
“······.”
Aron could not bring himself to believe what was unfolding before his eyes.
Bartashu.
Who was he? One of the highest-ranking holy knights Cardinal Johansen—Aron’s own father—had dispatched. Even within the Goddess Sect, that name carried such renown that merely hearing it brought a sense of security. The blessings he bestowed were of a caliber no one else could match. That escort, a gift from the cardinal meant to ensure victory in the tournament, had lost his life to a single blow.
This doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense!
He had watched the blessings be erased. With his own two eyes he had seen divine words fail and sacred domains wiped away. In real time, every patch of ground the man stepped on had been dyed in reverse, claimed by him instead.
How could such a thing be possible?
The other holy knights, too, stood speechless as if their mouths were full of honey, staring down at Bartashu’s severed head on the floor. They likewise could not accept the reality spread before them.
Even if his stats had dropped, there has to be a limit!
Three hundred ability points. Everyone had received the same total and distributed them the same way. Only the sum was equal; everything else differed. The outcome of this struggle should have been an inevitable victory for the Goddess Sect.
…In blessings, no other order dares approach the Goddess Sect. None!
Countless blessings that elevated body and mind. In that domain alone, the Goddess Sect stood supreme. Power that, in the Goddess’s name, let one surpass limits! Because blessings granted additional abilities, they shone all the brighter in a place where power itself was capped.
So why?
Why could they not kill even one man?
Why? Why? Why?
Every holy knight gathered here was an elite. Thirty such elites had assembled, yet they could do nothing against that single man. Was he a monster? Or truly an apostle of an evil god?
What evil god could field an apostle capable of nullifying the Goddess Sect’s divine words and sacred domains?
Thud.
Footsteps drawing closer still. Aron lifted his gaze.
Hyun of Adrium.
The man was approaching him, step by step. Black hair. Pitch-black eyes. Colors ominous to the extreme. Look closer and even his features felt subtly alien—tall frame, pale skin, prominent lips, a straight nose, slightly pointed ears… a face hard to believe belonged to someone from Holy City Adrium.
More than anything, his presence was peculiar. At a glance he seemed ordinary enough to slip from notice if one paid no attention, yet the longer one stared, the more an irresistible allure seized the eyes and refused to let go.
Even in a situation like this.
He must have been touched by an evil god’s influence.
Evil gods do not reveal their names. Other gods disclose theirs to gain greater divinity, but an evil god grows weaker the moment its name is known.
Therefore he had to learn it. Hyun of Adrium. The name of the evil god that man served! If he could only speak that name, the situation would reverse. The Goddess Sect had researched the realm of evil gods as well.
Valakgas, Angra Mainyu, Gaz, Diablo.
Those were the Four Great Evil Gods as defined by the Goddess Sect—the most powerful among them. Valakgas in particular was strongly suspected to be the Chief God of the Balrog Cult. A Chief God stood one rank above ordinary deities. They ruled the world itself rather than a tower and could not intervene directly in the intermediate realm, yet they shared power with their followers. The Goddess herself was a Chief God.
But that man, Hyun, was at least no apostle of the Four Great Evil Gods. Their natures and his were far too different.
He had to get it right in one try. A careless guess would only invite an evil god’s curse in return.
“Wicked spawn! Speak the name of the evil god you serve!”
In the end Aron abandoned conjecture and recited a prayer. A hymn of praise to the Goddess. If the man were merely an apostle of some lesser god, the prayer alone would force him to reveal the name!
“······.”
Thud.
Barely three paces remained. Aron’s pupils began to shake violently. The prayer had no effect either. Of course—if a prayer had worked, Bartashu’s divine words would have worked as well.
“D-don’t come… don’t come any closer!”
“Divine Sword!”
“O Goddess!”
Only then did the holy knights snap back to their senses and bar the way.
Thud!
······Yet in that instant, every blessing was nullified. The blessings they had always worn like breathing itself. The weight of heavy armor and the raw pounding of their hearts pressed vividly against their skin.
“······.”
“What is this······”
“Snap out of it! He’s an apostle of a powerful evil god! Protect Lord Aron!”
They raised their swords again, but—
Clang!
BOOM!
“Guh!”
“······God······”
“······dess······!”
Every holy knight who stood in the way had his body shredded to pieces. Swords shattered, armor was breached, and in the worst cases the remains were crushed beyond recognition. With a single blow.
And that was not the only strange thing.
The holy knights’ dying gasps. The direction those final cries faced!
Why are all the dead knights’ eyes looking······
Every last one of them had died staring above the man’s head—died with eyes full of awe and horror. For a fleeting moment the word “Goddess” seemed complete, yet Aron still could not understand. Was there a goddess floating above the head of an evil god’s apostle? If so, the holy knights—and he himself—could never have failed to sense her. They were followers of the Goddess. They believed in her alone.
“Ah······.”
Now he truly did not know. A being that raced toward the extreme of the incomprehensible. Even the plea to be spared would not leave his lips.
“As prophesied, I’ll take one.”
Prophecy? What prophecy?
It can’t be!
Aron instinctively flung his left arm backward, but he was already a step too late.
Slash!
“Aaaagh!”
His left arm, cleanly severed from the shoulder.
“I-it hurts, it hurts······!”
Aron rolled across the floor, screaming. Blood gushed freely until the ground was soaked. Please stop this pain! End it! His body flopped like a fish, then his face went deathly white and he fainted, unable to endure the agony.
Yet just before unconsciousness claimed him, a hallucination reached Aron’s ears.
—On this eleventh floor, one left arm will be cut off.
—······?
—On the twelfth floor one right arm will be cut off, on the thirteenth a left leg, on the fourteenth a right leg, one by one. And on the fifteenth floor······ that, you can think about when you get there.
It was a hallucination whose content declared that Aron’s suffering had only just begun.
100 challengers have been eliminated.
The remaining 900 challengers proceed to the 12th floor of the Tower of the War God.
When 90 more are eliminated, the 13th floor may be reached.
‘Equal Struggle’ begins in 30 minutes.
The twelfth floor.
Its structure and trappings were identical. The sole difference was—
“······.”
“······.”
—the gazes fixed on me.
From the beginning I had been a person of interest, and everyone had expected my elimination. That expectation had been wrong. On the eleventh floor alone I had eliminated ten holy knights—ten percent of the dropouts by myself. How many could have watched that fight? Not one or two.
All of them.
Every person gathered here had witnessed my battle. And they had reached a conclusion.
They’ve decided to exclude me completely.
Their movements were ominous. They would not rush me first, yet the moment I showed an opening they would strike at once. Still, plenty of other hostile groups remained, so for now they had set me aside.
The most likely are the group under Husta, disciple of the Mercenary King; the Dersian group; and the group of Hanchess, Knight of the Sun.
A three-way struggle. No one could yet claim a decisive advantage. In other words, they still lacked the numbers to turn on me. They were probably quietly hoping Aron and the holy knights would either remove me or at least buy them time.
Well then.
That suited me fine. I had no intention of turning my attention to them just yet. Instead I focused on the other lines of text floating before my eyes.
Cheonma Shingong – Record of Life and Death activates and absorbs mana.
Mana has increased by 5.
Cheonma Shingong, Record of Life and Death.
The Absorptive Great Method took the mana of those I killed.
Ten holy knights slain, five points of mana gained. This was nothing like the Dead King’s skill. Not everyone who died became a Dead. But Cheonma Shingong was different. It absorbed the mana of every single person I killed and converted it into my own.
······Insane.
Even a simple comparison showed its ceiling far higher than the Dead King’s skill. Moreover, my “vessel” had no limit. In other words, it could expand without end.
And it was not only my mana that had grown.
◈ Drinks blood and advances one stage.
◈ Enhanced into True Blade of Transcendence.
Blade of Transcendence. A sword that grew on its own. Once it completed four stages of growth, it would transcend into an entirely different form depending on the environment in which it had matured.
And then—
······Killing holy knights had refined yet another Hidden Class. The One Who Erases Holy Radiance. My actions themselves were linking directly into Hidden Classes. I understood now.
Climb to the very end. Break every record.
My purpose had changed. I would climb all the way. No matter what, I would see the end. Then an Inheritance surpassing every Hidden Class that had appeared so far would be completed. I was certain of it.
I slowly loosened my body.
At last—
30 minutes have elapsed.
12th Floor, ‘Equal Struggle’ has begun!
30 minutes have elapsed.
14th Floor, ‘Equal Struggle’ has begun!
Past the twelfth floor, beyond the thirteenth, upon reaching the fourteenth, every remaining challenger shared the same thought.
That man is dangerous.
Hyun of Adrium!
We have to eliminate him first.
The martial power he had displayed was simply too overwhelming. Moreover, with each successive floor he only seemed to grow stronger. One by one the remaining groups began to coalesce. They had realized this was no time to fight among themselves.
“L-Lord Aron, are you conscious?”
One holy knight cried out as he looked at the unconscious Aron. For reasons unknown, whenever a struggle began Aron was forcibly awakened, and just as the “prophecy” foretold he lost his limbs one by one. It was a terror beyond words.
“Why······.”
The moment the struggle started, Aron’s mind snapped awake again. Only three holy knights remained. All of them poured every scrap of holy power into healing him, yet—
Why can’t I forfeit······.
Aron’s expression was pure despair. He could not forfeit. Even if he tried, the forfeit would not be recognized. From the very beginning the Tower of the War God had never intended to let them leave alive.
Aron had lost all will to fight. The severed limbs would not reattach. The man’s mana was so high that holy power would not take hold on the cut surfaces. Only his right leg remained. He could no longer even walk. At the same time a deep regret washed over him. Hyun of Adrium. He regretted ever having provoked him.
Thud.
Thud.
The struggle had begun, and the man was approaching.
“L-Lord Aron?”
“St-stand aside.”
Aron crawled across the floor. He had realized this was the final method left to him. Using his remaining leg, his torso, and his head, he desperately crawled, crawled, and crawled again until he stopped before the man.
“I-I yield. I··· I was wrong in my thinking.”
Yet he had not stopped merely to apologize for the provocation. Aron raised his head. Looking above the man’s head, he spoke.
“You are n-n-not some apostle of an evil god. You are······.”
At first he had not known. Why the holy knights had died staring above that head. But now he understood. The closer death drew, the more he pushed his foot across the boundary of death······ he had felt it. He had seen it. Even then he had not believed, yet now he thought he could.
Aron moved his head and traced the holy sign of the Goddess Sect in the empty air.
“You are······ the one the Goddess······ loves most of all······.”
The man was an apostle of the Goddess. No—not merely an apostle. A word like “apostle” could not dare define him. He was one who received the Goddess’s love. Closer to the Goddess than any Holy Maiden, closer even than His Holiness the Pope. What title could one give such a being? Someone like Aron himself could never define it.
“······.”
The man looked down at him for a long moment.
Thud.
Then he walked past Aron.
“Hyun of Adrium! We admit we were wrong.”
“Sorry, but we’re killing you first.”
The groups began to gather. All of them united to take down Hyun of Adrium. Their number easily exceeded two hundred. Aron urgently called to the remaining holy knights.
“You······ help that man······.”
It was already too late. Even he could not face that many alone.
That was when it happened.
Whoooosh!
Black flames erupted across his entire body.
The true power of Cheonma Shingong – Record of Life and Death.
The Heavenly Demon has descended.