The Devouring Monarch Regresses

The Pantheon.

The 100th floor of the Tower of Babel, where societies of various gods made their home.

I came to a stop before a grand temple built on the outskirts of the Pantheon.

A tightly sealed door blocked the way forward.

“I’ve finally reached it.”

Blood surged up my throat and sprayed from my mouth.

Wounds covered every inch of my body. Poisoning, burns, lacerations, frostbite—every possible scar had been carved into me. They were the price of carving a lone path all the way to the Pantheon.

Even so, I could not stop.

I still had something left to do.

I drew ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in a deep breath and slammed the altar door open with all my strength.

Rumble—!

As the doors parted left and right, the interior of the Twilight Altar revealed itself.

Powerful relics infused with the divinity of the Old Gods. Supreme-grade artifacts. Holy relics.

Among them, I picked up the golden-glowing stalk of wheat. Its plain appearance looked shabby next to the radiant holy relics, yet I knew its true worth better than anyone.

The divinity dwelling within the relic seeped into my body.

“Ugh.”

My stomach churned violently.

By the time I reached the Pantheon, I had already absorbed the essences of multiple gods. They felt ready to explode at any moment. Under normal circumstances I would have needed months of careful refinement, but I didn’t have that luxury.

If I could just devour a little more of Ishtar’s essence—the central axis of the entire mechanism—!

“This is the end, mortal.”

“There is nowhere left for you to run.”

“To think you would scurry into the Twilight Altar like a rat.”

Long shadows fell one after another across the Pantheon.

The sun god Hyperion.

The sea god Nodens.

The god of magic Luraine.

Humbaba, the demon of the triple-peaked mountain.

Dozens of other Old Gods whose Names had been stolen appeared alongside them.

The Old Gods.

The true culprits behind this entire catastrophe.

“You all came as a group?”

I twisted my lips into a mocking smile and provoked them.

My insides burned, but I held it in. I still needed time to Devour Ishtar’s divinity. Showing weakness now would be fatal.

“How tenacious. Humans of Earth… mere vermin, yet you struggle until the very last breath.”

Hyperion stepped forward, his expression filled with displeasure.

His eyes brimmed with arrogance. If my body had been whole, I would have broken every limb he possessed. What a shame.

“A lowly creature that shows no reverence for the divine.”

“You’re the ones who can’t let go of your faded glory, you obsolete relics.”

The Old Gods were those pushed aside by the flow of time. Like the Titan gods displaced by the Olympians. Like Bergelmir, driven to the cold and barren Jotunheim by Odin’s great flood.

They were the gods of a previous generation who had lost their Names and Status to the current gods. The Twilight Altar existed to house the holy relics that symbolized them.

“A mere mortal who only knows how to sow discord out of fear, yet you talk so well.”

Even in crisis, humanity had never united. Players who chose personal glory sided with the gods. Those who weren’t chosen died one by one beneath the Old Gods’ invasion. Hyperion was one of the masterminds behind that scheme.

“Insolent mortal—!”

Hyperion raised his hand. Scorching flames looked ready to pour down at any second.

I clenched my left fist.

“Enough, Sun God. You don’t have the right.”

“One of only six Monarch-class players on Earth. It is indeed impressive that a mortal has stepped into our domain.”

“More importantly, we must discover what the Devouring Monarch is plotting.”

Devouring Monarch. That was what they called me.

The sea god Nodens, the magic god Luraine, and Humbaba restrained Hyperion.

I shrugged with deliberate calm.

“Plotting? Please.”

Luraine stepped forward.

“You are one of only six Monarch-class players in all of humanity.”

“I was.”

“When the last human resistance made their final stand, why didn’t you fight alongside them?”

“If I tell you, will you spare my life?”

I shot the question back at Luraine.

“Unfortunately, that is a request I cannot grant.”

Luraine shook his head without hesitation.

“How cold-hearted.”

“Only when you die will the Tower of Babel finish absorbing this world completely.”

The Old Gods had one purpose: to absorb countless worlds, integrate them into the Tower of Babel, and reclaim the power, names, and authorities that had been taken from them.

For the Tower to swallow a world, every last human had to perish.

In other words, these detestable Old Gods were saying…

“So I’m the last human.”

“Correct. You are the final human remaining on this Earth.”

I closed my eyes for a moment.

The future—no, changing the past is up to you now.

I’m counting on you, Devouring Monarch.

May our desperate struggle have meaning.

The last humans, the so-called resistance, had launched a frontal assault against the Old Gods. A war with less than a one percent chance of victory. The final survivors, who had avoided all-out war until now, had switched to offense for one reason only.

To buy time until I reached the Twilight Altar.

They had thrown away their lives to create this single opportunity. It was the only way to overturn this hopeless situation.

I wouldn’t say something cheap like “thank you.”

I recalled the two Monarchs who had stayed with me until the end. If I succeeded, they would also gain a second chance thanks to me. They should be the ones thanking me. Even if I’m the only one who will remember.

Perfect. The final piece was in place.

I ended my brief reverie and drew in a deep breath.

Drrrrrrrr—!

A fierce mana storm raged around me. At the same time, the countless wounds covering my body healed at terrifying speed.

Tension flickered across the Old Gods’ faces.

If I fought at full strength, I could at least drag one of them down with me as a companion on the road to hell. After all, I had earned the title of Monarch and had once been the strongest player humanity ever produced.

Hyperion’s eyes widened.

“I will sever that windpipe with my own hand!”

A spear wreathed in searing heat left Hyperion’s grasp and shot forward like a ray of light. The divine power compressed to its limit carried the presence of the sun itself manifested in this world.

“Mortal, erasing you will take only a single second.”

He wasn’t wrong. The moment that spear touched me, my body would melt away.

Exactly. That colossal divine power was what I had been aiming for.

Shuk! Hyperion’s spear pierced straight through my heart.

A guttural scream tore from my throat.

Hyperion’s expression twisted in surprise.

“Why?”

“Did you think I’d just stand here and take it?”

I grinned.

It must have looked like my wounds had healed. On the surface, at least. All I needed was for these arrogant Old Gods to use their full power.

“Hyperion, retrieve that spear immediately!”

“What is that bastard doing—!”

The Old Gods shouted in panic.

Too bad. That wouldn’t be convenient for me.

I reached out with both hands and gripped the spear tightly.

“I was just running a little low on energy.”

The one second Hyperion had boasted about was more than enough.

I slammed the crimson gem I held in my left hand against the spear shaft.

An overwhelming amount of mana flooded through my veins.

Hyperion had apparently drawn out every ounce of his strength to cut my throat. Thanks to that, I now had more than enough mana to activate the Mythic power I had built up until now. Climbing all the way to the top of the Tower had left my mana nearly depleted.

Click—! Click—!

All the divinities I had forced into myself through Devour meshed together perfectly, using Hyperion’s divine power as fuel.

The time-related relics that the human resistance had gathered at the cost of their lives.

I had taken every essence into my body, but operating them in my weakened state had been impossible. Hyperion’s divine power provided exactly the energy needed to activate the concept of Time I had accumulated.

Time flowed backward.

Along with the floating sensation, the forms of Hyperion and the other Old Gods began to fade.

“See you again in the future. Or rather, in the past.”

I raised my middle finger in farewell.

The floating sensation gradually settled.

Beyond the flickering darkness, a single ray of light entered my vision.

I blinked several times.

A bright yellow ceiling filled my sight. An oddly familiar yet strange contradiction. It was the one-room apartment I had lived in during my youth.

Success.

I pinched my cheek and pulled. The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠flesh stretched easily. When I yanked harder, the pain brought tears to my eyes.

“Ha… hahaha.”

Even though pain prickled across my face, laughter burst out anyway.

Time regression. The final gamble had worked.

A miracle even those damned Old Gods could not achieve. By devouring the essences of gods related to Time, I had returned to the past.

“What year is it?”

I reached out and fumbled across the desk until my hand found a cell phone.

Thirty years before my regression point. I was twenty-three. I had just been discharged from the military.

I ran a hand over the back of my head. My hair was quite short. I clicked my tongue. At least I hadn’t returned to my time in the army. That was a relief.

“Looks like the regression worked.”

Muttering to myself, I browsed through internet news articles.

Articles related to the Tower of Babel. Among them were names I recognized.

Ellen. Sergey.

Players who would one day rise to Monarch. Comrades who had fought shoulder to shoulder with me in a dying world. We had fought each other fiercely before the Old Gods stepped in, of course.

I recalled events that now belonged to the past—or rather the future—and let out a soft chuckle.

That aside.

“That damned Tower is still standing.”

I gazed at the massive structure visible through the window. The enormous edifices that had risen simultaneously across the globe. The so-called Tower of Babel.

It had appeared on Earth ten years ago. Without any warning, identical towers had erupted from the capital ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cities of every nation at once.

At first, people called the towers a blessing.

Gold and silver treasures. Elixirs that cured incurable diseases. Mana stones that became the third great energy source. The vast wealth pouring from the towers had shaken the global economy.

The popularity of players had also skyrocketed. Those invited by the Tower—the so-called Players—became the new celebrity profession.

All without realizing that the rewards were merely the vanguard of destruction.

The more rewards the Tower releases, the faster dimensional synchronization progresses.

The Tower of Babel had already devoured countless dimensions. The rewards that appeared each time a trial was overcome were nothing more than bait to lure in prey.

But could the world be saved by refusing to climb the Tower?

Once synchronization has begun, it’s only a matter of time.

In the end, the Old Gods had to be defeated. If I had wanted to avoid the fight, I never would have regressed. I could have simply chosen an appropriate god as my constellation and left Earth behind.

I clenched my fist tightly.

I would not lose a second time.

At that moment, a mechanical voice devoid of emotion brushed past my ear.

Ah, so today was that day.

October 9, 2025—the day I received the Tower’s invitation and became a Player. Back then I had felt as if I had gained the whole world.

A bitter smile tugged at my lips.

“Status window.”

I spoke the command I had uttered countless times before.

Compared to my status window before regression, it was pitiful. All the power I had accumulated over thirty years had been reset to zero.

But the most important thing remained.

I smiled.

Devour.

The ability that would one day elevate me to the strongest player alive. In the beginning I hadn’t used it properly. I had thought Devour simply let me steal a portion of the strength from the corpses of defeated monsters.

That had been a mistake.

I picked up the cup sitting nearby.

The cup remained unchanged. Yet the smile on my lips deepened.

When I first obtained the ability, I had believed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I could only extract essence from the corpses of defeated monsters. That had been an illusion.

The targets of Devour were not limited to physical or tangible things. Essence was not something only living creatures possessed. In the broader sense, it included status, concepts, and authorities.

If I devoured the Olympic sacred flame offered to Zeus, the king of the Olympian gods, I could devour part of Zeus’s own myth.

There were quite a few essences across the world that could be devoured.

I licked my lips.

The Tower of Babel’s entrance opened on the first of every month. Twenty days remained until I could enter.

Plenty of time.

I would prepare thoroughly.

I pressed the power button on my computer. It was time to plan exactly which essences I could devour and how I would grow stronger by absorbing them.

Old Gods.

My revenge begins now.