Chapter 335: Orion (2)
Blinding light scorched the cornea. Acrid smoke poured out from the searing wounds, and the pain from the recoil struck the mind directly.
“You want me to hold that?”
Aisha Banta Abidos suppressed the urge to scream at the top of her lungs. The pain was so intense it felt as if pulling out her eyes would be a relief, but her pride as the daughter of the Demon King wouldn’t allow it.
“Ugh!”
However, she couldn’t fulfill Shiron’s “request.” All she had to do was close her eyes and reach out, but the excruciating pain tangled her mind, as if something prior to the suffering was screaming not to do it.
-Don’t grab it.
-You must not grab it. Don’t fall into that man’s schemes.
“What?”
“That icy white sword?”
Unable to keep her eyes on the Holy Sword, Aisha clenched her eyelids shut. Black tears dripped down her chin, and the pain that surpassed her limits made her feel as if her intestines were twisting inside out.“Just lift it up.”
Despite everything, she reached out her hand. She gritted her teeth so hard they could shatter and barely managed to force out words.
“Place it… on my hand.”
Having observed Shiron since the 77th floor, she understood how much he desired to ascend the tower.
Though Aisha was now on the 93rd floor, she hadn’t reached this point on her own merit. From the 80th floor onward, she had relied on Shiron Prient’s strategies, and from the 85th floor, his explicit assistance had brought her here.
If she missed this opportunity, she would fall behind on the 93rd floor. To avoid the price of becoming an apostle, to prevent being left behind, she crossed the line.
“Enough.”
Shiron retrieved the Holy Sword. The light that seemed to burn away all evil disappeared, and Aisha’s charred body began to regenerate.
“What do you mean, enough?”
“It means no.”
“But we didn’t even try… you just had to place it on my hand!”
Frustrated, Aisha’s words poured out rapidly. That sword, the Holy Sword, was it? Shiron had wielded it on every floor, and judging by the overwhelming destructive power I just experienced, it was clearly no ordinary weapon.
But was it only powerful enough to burn a little skin?
Aisha, being innately strong, had regeneration abilities far beyond other demons. Even if her wrist were severed, a little rest would allow her to regenerate.
So, for her, a few burns weren’t a hindrance.
Shiron shook his head, cutting off such naive thoughts.
“If you’d held it, you’d be dead.”
“What?”
“If not dead, you could have been permanently disabled.”
“What are you talking about…?”
“That light wasn’t something I consciously unleashed.”
The Holy Sword inherently exuded divinity simply by existing. As a divine weapon, it emitted divine power that interacted exceptionally well with users.
“But that only happens when the user intends to use it.”
“Remember when you came to greet me before, while I was holding the Holy Sword? How did it feel then?”
“It felt sharp, but…”
“It didn’t openly try to kill you back then, did it?”
“…”
“The light just now was clearly beyond my control. The longer it went on, the more intensely it burned your body, far more than when I held the Holy Sword close to you.”
Aisha couldn’t fully comprehend Shiron’s words, but she barely understood that there was something significant about the sword. The first realization was that it wasn’t just a weapon. The second, even more unnerving, was that it seemed to possess its own will.
“So what are you going to do? If you don’t finish it, you can’t erase the position of the Apostle, right?”
Seira, who had been listening, frowned.
The one who killed the master of the tower must pay the price and could never leave the tower.
The condition to completely eliminate an Apostle aligned with the restriction of divine weapons, leaving no room to escape.
“I’ll kill it.”
“Shiron!”
Lucia shot to her feet. Her face, slightly turned back, was ashen.
“What else can I do? If nothing else works, I’ll kill it myself.”
“If you do that, you’ll be trapped in the tower forever! That’s unthinkable!”
“I’ll make every effort to ensure she can hold the sword. If that fails, I’ll consider using a blind sword to slice her throat.”
Several methods came to mind.
One option was to incapacitate the Apostle and have Aisha “lead” the blade to sever its neck.
How about creating a guillotine with the Holy Sword and having Aisha sever the ropes holding it? Although Aisha couldn’t hold the Holy Sword herself, she might be able to cut the ropes from a sufficient distance.
…But there was an unsettling possibility: the will of the Holy Sword might twist causality itself. The sword rejected Aisha’s hand. What if the Holy Sword manifested its obstinate will that only the Hero, Shiron, could wield it?
What if the sword lost its light the moment Aisha intervened?
[This is too absurd. The Holy Sword contains the Lord’s power. The Lord stands with the Hero…]
“Surely not.”
As Latera claimed, there was no way such a thing would happen.
Although Shiron had never met the so-called god face-to-face, wasn’t that the same being urging him to proceed toward the demonic realm?
If the goal was to kill both the Apostle and the Demon God, why wasn’t the mere act enough? Did it have to be the Hero slaying both the Apostle and the Demon God?
If only the purpose were made clearer.
At this rate, it felt like he was falling into the Apostle’s trap. Having saved the world without expecting compensation, wouldn’t it be reasonable to wish for a happy ending later?
“It has to be this way.”
“Why not try drawing the Holy Sword once more?”
Seira’s voice cut through Shiron’s thoughts. Shiron, who had closed his eyes softly, pulled the Holy Sword from his possession without hesitation.
The faint divine glow shimmered gently. Unlike the time he extended it to Aisha, the Holy Sword no longer radiated light. Shiron let out a hollow laugh at the blatant intentions of the sword.
“What are you planning?”
“If you don’t want to stay in the tower, I’ll handle it. Let’s see if I’m worthy of being a Hero.”
With those words, Seira reached out toward the Holy Sword.
The sword still did not lose its light. Relieved that the divine energy remained intact, Seira tried to lift the Holy Sword.
Thunk!
The Holy Sword embedded itself into the floor. At the moment Seira gripped it to lift, it felt as though an overwhelming gravitational force had rooted it to the ground, making it immovable.
“…Ha.”
Seira let out a groan with a twisted expression. She waved her right hand through the air, and numerous magic circles appeared in its wake. Layered enchantments and telekinesis followed. Mana surged violently, materializing as an invisible force.
Crack! Crackle!
The power to uproot the entire hotel floor wrestled against the Holy Sword. Yet, the sword remained unyielding. More layers of magic circles were added, with identical spells cast simultaneously on her other hand.
Rumble! The entire building shook under the force of a grand spell. This level of power could carve canyons into vast plains.
Thunk!
Screams echoed.
“W-What’s going on?!”
Despite everything, the Holy Sword remained immovable. Even as the floor was torn apart by the unseen might, the sword stayed firmly embedded in the lower level, gripping a small piece of wood like a stubborn root.
“Stop it! The building’s going to collapse!”
“…Ridiculous.”
At Aisha’s intervention, Seira tore at her own hair in frustration. Lucia gulped nervously, her face pale, while Shiron rubbed his neck with a pained expression.
“For now, let’s just continue ascending the tower and figure something out later. We haven’t even defeated the Apostle yet, so there’s no point in stressing over it now.”
It had been quite some time since the Third Apostle ascended the tower.
A magician, no, a transcendent grand magician like the Third Apostle wouldn’t simply wait idly for Shiron. They could have set up advantageous battlefields or prepared incomprehensibly complex strategies.
There was much to consider. Everything Shiron knew about the Third Apostle.
The variables surrounding the Apostle’s ascent of the Tower of Despair and their acquisition of the Tower Master’s position.
With fewer Apostles, the Demon God grew more closely tied to Oblivion, taking any measure to avoid losing their head.
The priority was clear: victory. Oblivion Orion was a formidable magician, an even more troublesome opponent than Jaganata, the oldest Apostle. A master of teleportation, even a single moment of hesitation could leave Shiron at the mercy of death.
While unable to leave the tower due to killing its master, the Apostle could still move to other floors.
“There’s no time to think—we must strike without pause.”
Shiron promptly cast aside his arrogant thoughts. This was no easy foe. With the Demon God still looming, preserving strength for victory remained the utmost priority.
“…What a mess.”
He tapped his heated head lightly. With his thoughts somewhat sorted, Shiron grabbed his coat.
“I’m heading down to pick up the Holy Sword.”
“Let me come with you! The hotel staff will definitely say something…”
Aisha hurriedly stood, speaking with urgency. She didn’t fully understand the situation, but from the bits and pieces of the conversation, she realized the gravity of not being able to wield the Holy Sword.
Even if she couldn’t reach the very top, she had to at least get close.
Aisha was acutely aware that she couldn’t afford to fall behind Shiron and his companions.