The Fanatic
Hyun of Adrium.
The moment he moved to the seventeenth floor.
"…God-Sword Unity, you said? He never even swung his blade."
"He did nothing at all and still passed?"
Everyone was bound to be baffled. Neither of them had taken a single action. And yet he had passed?
"……"
But Sancha gave no answer. He had no obligation to satisfy their curiosity—and more than that, he himself had never anticipated a situation like this.
The instant God-Sword Unity activated and their blades crossed, Sancha knew.
If I swing, I die.
The moment that sword was swung, he would die as well.
God-Sword Unity was a technique that always struck its target. And it always inflicted a critical wound. A unique skill capable of dealing fatal damage even if the blade itself never connected.
In short, God-Sword Unity was the materialization of reinforced will. It was a form of Heart Sword—a technique that made the very thought of extending a blade and dealing a fatal wound manifest as sword energy itself.
And yet… the moment he unleashed that Heart Sword Unity, Sancha's thoughts froze solid. Only one thing rose in his mind.
I die.
I die.
I die…!
If he extended his blade and inflicted a critical wound, that strike would return twofold and kill him instantly.
An ability that reflects physical damage at double strength… Does something like that even exist in this world?
Techniques and equipment with reflective properties certainly existed. But they could never, under any circumstances, reflect more damage than what had been received. What people called "reflection" was closer to "sharing"—sharing pain, sharing damage, nothing more.
The man before him was different.
And so Sancha could not move. That was why he had sheathed his blade and declared a pass without so much as an attack.
…And perhaps that was not even the whole of it.
This is a sensation I never felt even when facing Wilhelm and Randolph…
Sancha looked down at his own hands. Both of them were trembling finely, as if sobbing. Instinct had driven into him a deathly terror more intense than anything he had ever known.
He had felt awe when facing Wilhelm and Randolph, but never this pure terror of instant death.
Sancha raised his head. And then—
So this is what it feels like to be alive.
…A smile touched his lips, and Sancha thrilled with excitement.
He was alive. This was nothing like the time he had been dominated by the Demon of Jealousy. Back then, even living had been a kind of death. But not now.
Reviving through the Tower's trials had clearly been the right choice. To think he would meet such an entertaining specimen right from the start.
I can grow stronger still.
At last, he was certain. Feeling the terror of death was proof that he still had room to become stronger.
And so he would challenge Randolph again. Challenge him—and win!
Therefore, this was not the end. The true trial was only just beginning.
King of Ruin.
A completely new name, born from the fusion and elevation of the previous Hidden Class inheritances. The utterly unexpected development left me speechless for a moment.
Similar to when I obtained the Supreme Sword Saint class.
By conquering every trial in the Abyssal Labyrinth, I had seized the Hidden Class Supreme Sword Saint—overcoming both Laily of the Six Heroes and the trials of the Supreme Dragon. It was a Hidden Class completed through continuous class elevation.
The difference this time… is the starting point.
Back then I had endlessly elevated an ordinary class until it barely became a Hidden Class. Now I was starting from a Hidden Class. And further evolution beyond even that was possible.
If I had simply inherited the Heavenly Demon class or something else, I would have been beating the ground in regret.
If I have to climb anyway.
I lifted my gaze upward. To the top of the tower. Once you started climbing, you could not stop.
The existence of 'Randolph' grows a little clearer.
The presence of 'Park Hyunmyung' grows fainter.
…Even if climbing higher left my body less and less able to move. Even if my entire flesh became paralyzed.
I see it through to the end.
I always had. If I were going to stop halfway, I never would have started.
Of course I wanted it right now. It would be a lie to say I wasn't tempted.
King of Ruin. Did the name itself not send a thrill through you? A class name was a declaration of proof—and the less ordinary that name of proof, the higher its rank. Just like Star's Successor. Just like Supreme Sword Saint.
And now, King of Ruin. The mere attachment of the word "Ruin" to a class name was already ominous. I had never seen a class bearing such a word.
But this could never be the end.
King of Ruin is only the beginning.
Knowing it could evolve, I could not stop here. And if the name was already this grand at the start, my heart ached with anticipation for whatever name would emerge when I finally reached the end.
Whoooosh!
That was when it happened. A warp opened right beside me, and a man appeared. Watching closely, I found the figure who tumbled out strangely familiar.
"Ahh, O Goddess!"
…The fanatic, Aron. How on earth had he passed? I thought I already knew without needing to ask.
His entire body was covered in blood. Every tendon had been severed; his body was so frail he could barely move. He was, quite literally, on the verge of death.
Perhaps that was why—the moment Aron crossed the warp, he collapsed unconscious.
He recited a Self-Sacrifice Prayer.
I thought as much, looking at the unconscious Aron. One way to block or evade Sancha's technique was to weaken yourself so thoroughly that Sancha was reduced to the same state. Aron had steeled himself for death and recited a Self-Sacrifice Prayer. As a result, he had passed Sancha's trial.
…Easy to say. Anything but easy to do.
Whoosh!
Whoooosh!
After that, passers appeared through the warp one by one. The pace gradually accelerated until, in an instant, a hundred had filled the floor.
"Welcome to the seventeenth floor of the Tower of the War God."
The hundred-and-first arrival was Sancha.
Ssssshk!
A red circle was drawn around him at once.
"The seventeenth floor is the opposite of the sixteenth. I will block the challengers' techniques. Force me to take even a single step, or drive me out of this circle, and you pass."
Offense, not defense. No need to counter—far easier.
Then one man asked, "You only block? Nothing else?"
"Correct. I only block."
"…Quite the confidence."
Any lingering doubts were settled. Pure defense. If anything, an easier trial than the sixteenth floor.
"What happens if we fail? Immediate elimination?"
"Not immediate elimination."
"If not immediate, then?"
"One hour."
"……?"
"If no one passes within one hour, I will step out of this circle myself."
"That means… you'll step out and fight us?"
"Indeed. All of you against me. We fight until one side is dead. Understood?"
"And if even one person passes…"
"Everyone advances."
Everyone passes—or everyone dies. The seventeenth floor's trial resolved into only one of those two outcomes. No exceptions.
But the confidence was truly insane. Arrogant enough to call it hubris. If they kept challenging for a full hour, even Sancha would tire. Forcing a single step should not be that hard.
"…Methods don't matter, I assume?"
"You ask the obvious. This is an arena. For victory, spare no means and no method."
Every method was permitted. Just make him take one step.
And yet it was not baseless bravado.
Sancha already saw all of our abilities on the sixteenth floor.
A true master could read an opponent after a single exchange. And Sancha had already faced every person present on the sixteenth floor. He had seen their abilities, experienced them, and drawn his conclusion: that he could not lose. That he was confident he would not so much as flinch under sixty continuous minutes of assault!
"……Then I'll go first."
With an irritated voice, Hanchess, the Knight of the Sun, stepped forward. A Transcendent and a powerful contender for tournament champion—easily among the top three strongest challengers gathered here.
Fwoooosh!
His blade blazed hot.
"Let's see how long that confidence lasts."
Hanchess thrust his sword. At the same moment—
Groooooar—!
A small sun rose above Sancha's head. Light poured from that miniature sun, gathering to a single point, then radiating heat intense enough to burn and melt Sancha where he stood.
"There is nothing my sun cannot burn. Stay still and you will vanish without a trace."
"Hmm. Hot, I'll grant you."
"……?"
But Sancha's response made Hanchess's brow furrow. The man stood with his eyes closed, as if sunbathing, simply feeling the light and heat.
Of course he was not unscathed.
Sizzle!
He was burning, bit by bit. The problem was that it truly was only bit by bit. Completely incinerating Sancha this way would take at least another full day.
"……Dwell within my blade, Phoenix."
Kraaak!
The small sun's form shifted into a bird of fire—a phoenix. As the phoenix was drawn into Hanchess's sword as if absorbed—
Fwaaaaaaah!
Flames erupted from the blade, and tremendous heat flooded the seventeenth floor.
"H-Hot!"
"Aagh! I-I'm burning…!"
People scrambled to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the fight. Paying them no mind, Hanchess charged at Sancha.
Clang!
Sancha raised his sword and lightly blocked the phoenix-imbued strike.
Clang! Clang! Claaang!
Hanchess pressed relentlessly, but Sancha did not take a single step. It was as if every movement was being read in advance.
"…!"
Hanchess clenched his teeth. He could not accept it. He was the Knight of the Sun, a model for countless knights. And yet he could not force even one step. The gap in skill was that vast.
"How long are you going to fight?"
"It's already been thirty minutes!"
Well past the thirty-minute mark, Hanchess was in despair. He had swung his blade for over half an hour, and Sancha had not so much as twitched inside the circle.
Thud!
At last Hanchess dropped his sword.
"Hah! Hah!"
Sweat poured from his entire body, already pooling at his feet.
I can't… win.
He had no choice but to admit it now. Sancha. That bastard was an untiring monster. For all the overwhelming difference in skill, he had not shed a single drop of sweat. It felt like standing before a colossal wall.
"Damn it! I'm next!"
Challengers, growing desperate, rushed forward in rapid succession. But nothing changed. They threw exploding potions from range, released poisons—Sancha remained unharmed. They truly spared no means and no method, and still nothing worked.
"What the hell is he…!"
"Is that bastard invincible?"
Time had already passed fifty minutes. Less than ten minutes remained. Naturally, their gazes turned toward me.
My legs won't move.
But it was not that I refused to step forward out of reluctance. The Paradox of Fate. The higher the floors I climbed, the further my body drifted from normal. Even at a mere seventeenth floor, my left arm and both legs barely responded.
"Nngh…"
In that instant, the unconscious Aron came to. I looked at him at once and spoke.
"Aron."
"Where is this… Ah! Bearer of the Goddess's will. Did you call for me?"
Even in his ruined state, Aron responded to my call with every ounce of strength he had left.
…Good. If my prediction was correct, there was exactly one way for me to move.
"Venerate me."
"Pardon…?"
"Recite the Prayer of Adoration."
That was it—the Prayer of Adoration. But offering the Prayer of Adoration to anyone other than the Goddess was a taboo of the Goddess Sect. That was the problem. No matter how much faith he had developed in me, a believer of the Goddess Sect would naturally hesitate…
"Gladly!!!"
…Without so much as a shred of hesitation, Aron began reciting the Prayer of Adoration.
Whoooaang!
Light wrapped around me. Far more intense light than I had expected. Aron was pouring out every last scrap of remaining life force and divine power.
A Self-Sacrifice Spell. A Prayer of Adoration offered with his own death as collateral!
I can move.
My body stirred, little by little. I rose slowly from my place.
"……Will you challenge me?"
Sancha's eyes gleamed as he asked. On the sixteenth floor he had been able to do nothing—but on the seventeenth, their positions were reversed. The question asked whether I could still fluster him here. A fierce will to avenge that humiliation radiated from him.
"I will."
Regardless, I gave a light nod—and smiled faintly.
…Because the path to the tower's summit had just come into view. And so had the surefire way to clear this trial.
The power of the Hidden-grade Talisman 'Cataclysm' is unleashed!
Rrrrrumble—!