Chapter 328: Infinity Tower (1)
He received a revelation.
Hearing the Lord’s will directly was supposed to be a rare and special event, but the expression of the one receiving the revelation was indifferent.
Because the revelations no longer held a special meaning.
They came so frequently that it disrupted his peace.
[…The hero is coming.]
[…You must prepare.]
“…Ha.”
At the top of the tower where blue snowflakes swirled, the 3rd Apostle, Oblivion Orion, lightly tapped his throbbing head.
Ever since he became an apostle, the will of the god had spoken to him. Initially, the revelations were infrequent, but lately, the intervals had grown absurdly short.
‘Is it because the number of apostles has decreased? That must be it…’Ten years ago, it came once a month. Then one day, it became once a week. Then, once a day.
Now, it struck whenever there was the slightest pause in his consciousness.
Even yesterday, a revelation intruded during a battle, and he had found it incredibly troublesome.
To be honest, it was more of an interference.
What was once a glorious visit from the revelation had become disruptive, whether he was climbing the stairs, drinking water, or practicing his martial techniques. At one point, he nearly fell into a mental abyss.
‘But I won in the end.’
Before Oblivion Orion lay a corpse—a monstrous creature with enormous tentacles that was once the Tower Master of Despair.
Just yesterday, it had been observing the demonic landscape with great dignity. Now, in the swirling blue snowflakes, its body was growing cold.
[The hero has gained strength.]
“…It’s fine. I’ll build my workshop. Inside the workshop, I can never be defeated.”
With a headache gnawing at him, Orion muttered quietly while extracting blood from the massive corpse.
The countless tentacles gradually lost their color, and the eyes, once brimming with starlight, grew dim and empty.
Yet, its gaze remained fixed on Oblivion—
A gaze filled with both hatred and pity…
Crack.
A twig-like hand crushed an eyeball. Oblivion picked up the glistening gems within.
He peeled back the membrane and retrieved the deeply seated bones.
[…You will build a workshop?]
[Slaying the Tower Master and locking yourself in the tower is not a bad choice.]
[But since you killed the Tower Master, you will inherit their title. This means you can never leave this place.]
The Tower Master of Despair and Oblivion Orion had both reached the pinnacle of grand magic. However, even among great mages, the saying “there is always one above the other” applied.
The Tower Master of Despair was weaker than Oblivion, and thus he lost.
He wanted to escape, but the tower’s dominion did not permit it.
The tower was a divine artifact that had existed since the world’s creation.
The tower always required a master. It granted eternal life until the master was forcibly killed but prohibited leaving the tower in return.
Even the Demon God, who contributed to the tower’s creation, could not override this rule. Oblivion Orion was now trapped here until death.
Crack.
“…It’s fine. If the hero kills me, they’ll become the Tower Master. That way, they won’t reach the Lord.”
[What a noble sacrifice.]
“It’s not a sacrifice. I think of it as a trade.”
[A trade?]
“I haven’t ruled out the possibility that I might win. I will simply continue researching magic in the tower.”
The apostles—originally seven in number.
Each became an apostle for their own reasons, but Oblivion Orion had sought to overcome mortality and break through his magical limitations.
As a human, he had reached the level of an 8-Star Mage.
However, he was already in his sixties then, and rather than seeking magical accomplishments, he had been more concerned about preserving his sanity.
At times, he wallowed in self-pity.
Of course, he blamed his parents.
“Why was I born human? Why wasn’t I given more talent? A brilliant mind? If even one of my ancestors had possessed the long-life genes, I could have lived twice as long.”
And so, he became an apostle.
He shut himself in a solitary chamber, crossing the frigid winter mountains with his pale, emaciated body.
He reached the demonic realm. He unearthed an ancient map hidden deep within a dungeon and offered a ritual to a forgotten god…
Indeed, the power of the being who observed creation was immense.
The endless cliff was quickly reduced to rubble, and dazzling achievements firmly took root in his consciousness.
There were sacrifices and demands in exchange for enlightenment, but the joy of breaking through his limits outweighed any price he had to pay.
Mages were driven by curiosity and, at the same time, inherently selfish beings.
There was no such thing as a favor without a price.
Gaining power always came with a cost.
Thus, Oblivion Orion willingly fought Prient.
At first, he was inexperienced—his limbs were torn apart, and his entire body was shredded repeatedly. Yet, the foundations he built were never destroyed.
Each time he resurrected, he grew stronger.
His magical accomplishments advanced day by day.
At some point, he stopped dying altogether and was free to pursue whatever he desired in his workshop…
[You still have lingering attachments, don’t you?]
“…”
The god pierced through the third apostle.
[Sacrifice is inevitable.]
[In exchange for your destined sacrifice, I will grant you even greater rewards.]
The god’s will was engraved.
The tower’s uppermost floor, filled with the stench of blood, began to surge.
The remnants of Orion’s work were absorbed into the floor.
[A workshop will not suffice.]
[You have killed the Tower Master, so you must take everything he possessed.]
[His techniques, his knowledge, his artifacts—]
[Everything.]
While interfering with the tower itself was impossible due to its divine origins, it was entirely possible to overlay something on top of it.
Oblivion Orion stroked his beard in admiration. He bent his thin, spindly legs and swept his hand across the floor.
“…Is this a level I can someday reach? No—can it even be reached at all?”
His tone lacked reverence or respect. Only an overwhelming longing and greed remained.
[…It exists.]
Yet the god still answered Oblivion Orion’s question.
Because he was special and worthy of love.
Because he was the last remaining apostle.
A week had passed since the power of prophecy was enhanced.
‘No, I suppose “enhanced” isn’t the right word since there was no power of prophecy to begin with?’
To put it simply, Shiron had gained the power of prophecy.
By touching the obelisk where starlight gathered, he was overwhelmed by an immense energy and passed out. It took him a week to recover from that minor incident.
“…Can’t I turn this fire off somehow?”
Shiron blinked his left eye, which glowed with a pulsing blue flame, and furrowed his brows as he tried desperately to extinguish the energy.
“No, damn it! This thing won’t turn off?!”
“Why would you want to turn it off? It looks cool.”
Lucia chuckled, voicing her honest opinion.
It wasn’t because she was blindly enamored with Shiron; her words came from the heart.
There were many literary ways to describe killing intent, piercing gaze, or boiling fighting spirit. But ultimately, those were mere illusions conjured by the observer.
Even if someone cast magic to emit light from their eyes or visualized mana swirling around them, it could never fully express the energy of the one emitting it.
However, the blue flames blazing from Shiron’s left eye were different.
It was ghastly.
It seemed like a spirit of determination to devour the enemy to the bone had been imbued into it.
“If I knew it looked this cool, I would’ve… umph!”
“You idiot! Do you have a death wish?!”
Seira hurriedly clamped her hand over Lucia’s mouth and shouted.
It had only been a week since the Oath of Mana was made, yet she had already forgotten. Watching this absurdly reckless display, Shiron let out a sigh of relief.
“…Cool? What’s so cool about this? I’m not some angsty teenager.”
“More importantly, did you properly receive the power of prophecy?”
“It’s like flashes of light flicker and pass by…”
At Seira’s question, Shiron focused on the odd sensation.
As far as he knew, the prophecies of the Prient family did not manifest in a fixed way.
In the game, Lucia Prient’s prophecies appeared in her dreams, while Glen Prient’s prophecies were seen as visions during moments of unconsciousness.
Shiron’s prophecy seemed closer to Glen’s.
‘It’s disorienting.’
[It’s also sucking up a lot of mana.]
It was like reality had turned into a fast-forwarded video.
Unlike the world seen through his right eye, his left eye—pulsing with blue energy—showed a fleeting “future” at an accelerated pace.
‘I could use this in combat, but how does this even work?’
“I can see the future. Seira, you’re going to let go of Lucia and stand up.”
“…And what happens if I don’t?”
Seira immediately caught onto Shiron’s intent. She deliberately decided to ignore his prophecy.
At that moment—
Crack.
“…Ugh!”
A sharp headache, like being stabbed with needles, hit Shiron. A new future appeared: Seira looking concerned, quickly standing up, and approaching Shiron.
“What the—wait. Don’t tell me something happens to you if I don’t get up?”
Following the exact vision of the future, Seira stood up with a worried expression and inspected Shiron.
“Oh…”
Shiron let out a pure expression of admiration. The future could only be seen when he didn’t speak of the prophecy.
If he deliberately tried to twist the outcome, another timeline would immediately reveal itself.
“This is broken as hell.”
The blue flames in his eye and his edgy appearance no longer mattered. Clutching his pounding heart, Shiron turned toward Lucia with excitement.
“Lucia.”
“Yeah?”
“Close your eyes and stab me with your sword.”
“…What?”
“Hurry, I need to see how well this works.”
“…Alright.”
Lucia frowned but obeyed Shiron’s request. Soon after, she held the Sirius sword and pointed it toward Shiron, who had covered his eyes.
“…Ready?”
“Uh… Wait. Okay, I saw it. Go ahead.”
“I’m really stabbing you, okay?”
“Yeah, just do it already.”
Shiron confidently puffed out his chest. Was it concern for Shiron? In the future Shiron had glimpsed, Lucia thrust the Sirius sword forward—at an absurdly slow pace, like an ant crawling…
‘I could dodge this even without the prophecy—’
It was at that very moment.
Thud!
The star-like blade of the sword pierced Shiron’s chest.