The Holiest Being

The moment it appeared, everything in the tower—Raiga included—froze for an instant.

It ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠scattered curses of malice, seizing control of the tower at terrifying speed. But Raiga could not comprehend what it was.

Wasn't that a Dragon God?

Two children who possessed the rank of Dragon God. Among them, the girl called Lucaria—a being who should have been purely sacred, utterly pure!

He could not readily accept that such a being would display that much malice.

No. He had not misseen it. That thing was a conglomeration of malice.

But malice of that magnitude did not arise under ordinary circumstances.

The agony of having living flesh torn away. One who howled even with their soul and finally fell to corruption.

Only by tasting pain and despair beyond imagination—only by being crushed by a helplessness deeper still than that—was it possible.

Of course, even having fallen that way, questions remained. Even if a sacred divinity had been corrupted by overflowing malice, that thing was a mass of malice that dared to overwhelm even that level. As if malice itself had taken form.

If one were to describe it in a single word…

"Despair…?"

…There would be no shortage in calling it Despair.

A girl who possessed both the rank of a Dragon God and the soul of Despair. The form of it born from that imbalance was truly spine-chilling.

Like wings, black hands burst forth haphazardly, staining everything they touched with despair. Everything they touched fell under its dominion—a power that beguiled, brainwashed, and finally forced obedience. And still unsatisfied, it continuously devoured.

"Heh heh, hihihi…!"

Those dominated lost their reason as they were stained with malice. Aron of the Goddess Sect was no exception.

"Ah, O Goddess! I shall offer up the heads of those heretics!"

Aron clasped both hands together. At once, a radiance of light poured down upon him—holy power of a magnitude incomparable to before. Soon after, Aron became a holy warrior. And not just any—one of the highest order. He was sharing the power of Despair.

Forced transplantation.

Insane.

Raiga stared blankly at the scene for a moment.

The truly terrifying aspect of those commonly called the Four Calamities lay in their ability to multiply their numbers. Just as Baal, within the tower, continuously summoned nonexistent things using his curses as a medium, Despair likewise possessed the power to transplant its own cells and replicate.

And currently, the Empire judged that one of the Four Calamities—Despair—was in the possession of the Black King. So why… was Despair's ability manifesting here?

By forcibly transplanting its cells, it shared that infinite power and pushed beings past their limits. Moreover, the difference from Baal was this: while Baal created and summoned curse puppets, Despair maximized only the power originally possessed by the one whose cells had been transplanted. But he hadn't expected it could even maximize holy power.

Because it has taken root in a Dragon God's body?

Whatever the case, that was not a monster one could face head-on. But from the moment it appeared, escape was impossible.

…The tower's divinity and the Dragon God's divinity are colliding.

As expected. Thus, until a conclusion was reached, no one could leave this tower. Only when the tower collapsed or that monster vanished would things return to normal.

Aaaah—

Aaaaaaah—

It was like a song. Lucaria, completely consumed by darkness, continued to make that strange sound.

A voice of beguilement!

Just because the black hands hadn't touched him didn't mean it was over. Raiga covered his ears. He drew up all his energy, blocking without a single gap.

Aaaah— Aaaaah—

But it continued to reach him. The voice grew sweeter little by little, beguiling everything around it.

—Raiga, my proud knight.

—Your Majesty the Emperor…!

—I shall never forget the grace of the Eight Houses.

—Your grace is boundless!

—I bestow upon you the Sacred Blood. Now none shall mock your blood as base.

—…!

He could see the Emperor awakening and praising him. He could hear it. The situation Raiga most desired was projected before his eyes.

Damn it.

He knew it was an illusion, but the power of beguilement was too strong. He blocked and blocked, yet it would not be blocked. But once the beguilement ended, only brainwashing and domination remained. There was only one way to distance himself from this phenomenon.

"Run!"

"To Lord Randolph…!"

Eternal Randolph. Challenging that one—and being dominated by Eternal Randolph. In the end, it meant he had to choose one of the two. Be dominated by that unknown it and submit, or challenge Eternal Randolph ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and willingly accept defeat.

No matter how transcendent a being Raiga was, once caught up in this phenomenon, no other options existed. He had already stepped into the swamp—a deep swamp from which there was absolutely no escape.

"Damn it…"

Raiga furrowed his brow as hard as he could. Nothing was proceeding or flowing as expected. It was only a tournament held to save his disciple—why had it come to this? Could it be some kind of surprise party someone was throwing targeting him? If not that, nothing about the flow so far had been normal.

Whoosh!

Whooooosh!

One by one, they vanished. In the blink of an eye, save for those already dominated, only Raiga remained alone.

Heeheeheehee.

A laugh rang out again as if mocking him. But one thing was certain. If dominated by that thing, there would be no tomorrow. Even if he held out without being dominated, that thing would only pull his death forward all the faster. If that happened, he might die before this phenomenon ended.

In truth, there had only ever been one choice from the start.

Crunch!

"This goddamn…!"

Boss Room.

Phase 3—where Eternal Randolph existed.

The moment he arrived there—

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠surroundings overflowed with those who had already challenged and willingly accepted defeat.

"Fermon… what a fool."

Among them was Fermon. Ant King Fermon. He had completely lost his previous appearance. Laktusha clicked his tongue bitterly. He had thought the habit of charging at anyone without discrimination would lead the creature to ruin, but the timing had been far too soon.

Where is Eternal Randolph?

Raiga looked around. But no matter how he looked, there was no one who appeared to be Eternal Randolph. Instead—

"He… that one is Eternal Randolph."

"…Aria?"

Someone appeared. Aria, daughter of the White King, who had challenged to confirm Randolph's identity. Suddenly appearing, she was calmly pointing at something. At this, Gungwi asked while panting roughly.

"…Ant King Fermon is Eternal Randolph?"

"The Ant King is currently molting."

Come to think of it, it was strange. Ant King Fermon hadn't moved at all. He remained still, body curled in on itself.

"Eternal Randolph has possessed the molting Ant King. He will finish molting soon."

"Possessed? Then you're saying Eternal Randolph has no physical form?"

Aria nodded. But she said nothing more.

Of course, Aria had seen Randolph's form—that swordsman's form. But she didn't bother to mention it. After all, the swordsman was her lifesaver who had rescued her. More than anything, something about Randolph's condition had been strange.

Then it happened.

Rumble!

Ruuuuumble!

"What is that?"

"Why… is it shaking?"

The boss room shook. But Eternal Randolph was currently molting within the Ant King's body. So what was this sudden phenomenon?

Soon, they learned the reason.

"…It followed us?"

The eyes of those looking at the message shook violently. It had followed. It—that terrifying existence stained with Despair!

Whoosh!

Whooosh!

Whooooosh!

And it appeared together with an enormous number of challengers. Hundreds of thousands who had been climbing the tower, dominated by it, simultaneously revealed themselves before their eyes.

I looked at the summoned Ominous King. But I could do nothing but look.

"…Did you summon me?"

What stood before my eyes was not the Ominous King. I slowly opened my mouth and spoke his name.

"Martial God Karas…?"

Why had Martial God Karas been summoned? Martial God Karas was the divinity ruling the Tower of the War God, and simultaneously the Ash King—not the Ominous King. Had the two gods intended this as well?

—Caw?

—Caw?

…It didn't seem so. Both the God of Omens and the God of Ash were tilting their heads.

So I couldn't help but ask.

"Karas. What is happening in the tower right now?"

"You… who are you? Why have you entered the Gap and freely conducted trials as you please?"

Karas did not recognize me. Moreover, he was angry instead.

"Trying to end these foolish Chief Gods' fight? Don't. I will absolutely not allow it."

Flap!

Karas spread his wings.

"If one side loses, the defeated side is annihilated. The crows who lose their Chief God will grow small, grow stupid, and lose the tower's authority. Did you enter knowing that?"

That was why the two had been fighting for eternity. Because of a foolish promise that the loser would be annihilated. Whether it was the Ominous race or the Ash race, if either side completely disappeared, the world's balance would collapse steeply. That was why no one was allowed to enter the Tower's Gap—an absolute rule agreed upon by both the Ominous King and the Ash King. With some strange fellow breaking that rule and entering, his anger was only natural.

"…Answer me. Why were you summoned?"

But I still could not understand—the fact that I had summoned the Ominous King, yet Karas had been summoned. So I said again.

"I asked what you're doing. Ash King, Martial God Karas."

"…Normalization of the abnormal. To return everything to how it was."

Still an incomprehensible answer. What was certain was that everything happening in the tower now was due to Martial God Karas.

"I will no longer be swayed by the foolish gods' fight. A god who has abandoned his race is no longer a Chief God. Therefore, I will now take the initiative."

Guaaaaaaah!

Divinity condensed across Martial God Karas's entire body.

…Strong. He had grown stronger—even more so than when I had climbed the Tower of the War God and been defeated. I had lost even in Randolph's body. In my current state, I absolutely could not win.

Could it be?

Only then did the worst thought occur to me.

—He's mixed with the Ominous King's factor.

—Mm.

As if supporting my thought, the Chief Gods spoke. Mixed. The Ominous King's factor. No matter how I thought about it, only one person possessed that.

He absorbed Randolph?

Randolph. There was no other being who had inherited the Dreadful Omen and the Ominous King's will.

…But even if so, he couldn't have absorbed everything. Because even with Karas before me, the Paradox of Fate was not activating.

"Disappear."

Rumble!

KRAAAAAASH!

From the dry sky, a lightning bolt imbued with divinity fell—lightning premised on absolute, unavoidable death.

"…What is that?"

But it did not reach. What had been summoned was not only Martial God Karas.

"Could that be… the Throne of the Sun God?"

The throne said to have been sat upon by the Sun God. The Throne of Light had been summoned together as well. I didn't know why the Throne of Light had appeared together, but sitting upon the Throne of Light nullified all attacks—even Karas's attacks.

But Karas sneered.

"That throne is not eternal either. When the sun sets, the invincibility is meant to be released."

The sun floating in the sky. The sun was gradually setting. Before long, when the sun's light completely vanished, the Throne of Light would also lose its power. So I had to choose before then.

"What will you offer, and what will you become? Even if you do, the result will not change."

The Throne of Light. It was simultaneously a chair that infinitely devoured offerings to summon something forth. Both the Six-Horned Sword Saint Ryleigh and the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Dreadful Omen had been summoned by the Throne of Light.

But in the current situation, there were limits to what offerings I could make. Moreover, even if I offered something, there was no way I could win against the strengthened Karas.

I deliberated.

No offerings to make?

Well, there weren't any. My equipment was infinitely insufficient. The Archetypal Armor and the Spear of Longinus were immortal things—the kind that could not be made into offerings.

There is one certain offering.

But my deliberation was not long. I immediately made what I had thought of into an offering.

What should I summon to reverse the current situation? The last chance to use the Throne of Light.

Ryleigh—who had been a hero of the Six Horns of the old empire, a Supreme Dragon, and a Sword Saint. Or I needed a being even more powerful than when I had summoned the Dreadful Omen.

I will call the strongest being I know.

…Then, there was only one answer.