Chapter 289

Chapter 289
## The Sovereign of Holiness

The instant ‘It’ manifested.

The entirety of the Tower, Lyca included, froze for a fleeting second.

This entity began to usurp authority over the Tower at a staggering pace, radiating a blight of pure enmity. Lyca, however, found himself unable to comprehend the nature of ‘It.’

‘Was she not supposed to be a Dragon God?’

There were two youths who held the rank of Dragon Gods. Among them was the girl known as Lucaria. A creature that by all rights should be sacred and untainted! He found it nearly impossible to reconcile such a being with the sheer volume of ‘enmity’ she was currently projecting.

No, he hadn’t misjudged it. That presence was a concentrated mass of ‘malice.’ Such a degree of hatred doesn’t simply appear under normal conditions.

‘It requires the agony of having one’s very spirit flayed. The scream of a soul that has plummeted into the abyss.’

It was only achievable if one had endured trauma and hopelessness that defied human thought. It required falling into the void of a crushing impotence that surpassed even physical torment. Even then, the transformation remained a paradox. Even if a sacred divinity were to fall from grace due to a deluge of hate, this thing was different… because this collection of malice seemed to dwarf even that fall.

It appeared as if the concept of hatred itself had taken a physical shape. If one had to define ‘It’ with a single term…

“Despair…?”

…that word would be the only one fitting.

A maiden possessing the rank of a Dragon God while harboring the essence of Despair. The entity born from that horrific contradiction was enough to make the blood run cold. As if forming wings, obsidian hands erupted randomly, tainting everything in their path with hopelessness. Everything they brushed against fell under the sway of ‘It.’

It was a force that seduced, stripped away free will, and enforced absolute loyalty. Yet, never satisfied, it continued to gorge itself.

“He-he, hi-hi-hi…!”

Those caught in its grip surrendered their sanity as they were dyed in the colors of spite. Aaron, of the Goddess Cult, was no exception.

“Oh, Goddess! I shall slaughter the heathens and present their heads to you!”

Aaron pressed his palms together. Simultaneously, a radiant beam of light descended upon him. It was a terrifying holy strength, far beyond anything he had previously wielded. In moments, Aaron transitioned into a Paladin—and a high-ranking one at that. He was now a vessel for the power of Despair.

‘Forced Implantation.’

Pure madness.

Lyca stared at the scene, momentarily stunned. The true horror of the entities known as the ‘Four Calamities’ was their capacity to multiply their ranks. Much like how Baal utilized his curse to manifest non-existent horrors within the Tower, Despair held the power to replicate itself by grafting its own essence onto others.

The Empire currently believed that the Black King was the host for ‘Despair,’ one of those Four Calamities. But why… why was the influence of ‘Despair’ appearing here?

By violently grafting its cells, it distributed its limitless might, forcing hosts to break through their natural ceilings. The key difference from Baal was that while Baal constructed cursed puppets, Despair amplified the latent power already present within the victim.

However, he never dreamed it would magnify sacred, holy power as well.

‘Is it because it took root within a Dragon God’s vessel?’

Regardless of the cause, that entity was not a foe that could be engaged directly. Yet, from the moment ‘It’ emerged, retreat was no longer an option.

《‘Emergency Withdrawal’ is unavailable.》
《You are forbidden from exiting the ‘Tower.’》

‘…The authority of the Tower and the authority of the Dragon God are in conflict.’

It was just as he feared. No one would be leaving this place until a resolution was reached. Either the Tower had to crumble, or that nightmare had to be erased for order to return.

Aaaah—
Aaaaaaaaah—

The sound resembled a melody. Lucaria, now entirely consumed by the void, was emitting a rhythmic, haunting noise.

‘The Siren’s Call!’

Physical contact with the obsidian hands wasn’t the only threat. Lyca covered his ears, channeling every ounce of his internal energy to seal out the sound completely.

Aah— Aaaah—

Yet, it persisted. The voice grew increasingly melodic, whispering sweet temptations to everything nearby.

—Lyca, my loyal protector.
—Your Imperial Majesty…!
—The deeds of the ‘Eight Excellence’ shall be etched in history.
—Your kindness is boundless!
—I shall grant you the ‘Sacred Blood.’ From this day on, none shall mock your lineage as common.
—…!

He envisioned the Emperor standing before him, offering words of high praise. He heard it clearly. The exact scenario Lyca craved most was being played out before his eyes.

‘Curse it.’

He was fully aware it was a delusion, but the allure was overwhelming. Even with his ears blocked, the sound bypassed his physical senses. Once the seduction concluded, the only things left were indoctrination and subjugation. There was only one path to escape this mental erosion.

“Flee!”
“Toward Randolph…!”

Eternal Randolph. To challenge that man. To submit to Eternal Randolph’s dominance.

In the end, it was a choice between two masters. To be hollowed out and serve that enigmatic ‘It,’ or to confront ‘Eternal Randolph’ and accept the defeat that came with it. No matter how much of a transcendent being Lyca considered himself, as long as he was trapped in this ‘event,’ there were no other paths. He had walked into a quagmire from which there was no retreat.

“Damn it all to hell…”

Lyca’s face twisted into a deep grimace. Nothing was unfolding according to the script. This was supposed to be a simple tournament to locate a successor; how had it spiraled into this? Was this some twisted ambush designed specifically for him? If not, the trajectory of these events was utterly nonsensical.

Shu-ung!
Shu-uu-ung!

They were vanishing, one by one. In a heart-stopping moment, Lyca realized he was the only one remaining who hadn’t been subverted.

Shi-shi-shi-shi.

The mocking laughter echoed again. But one fact remained certain: if he allowed that entity to dominate him, his future ended there. Even if he resisted, the strain would only hasten his demise. He might die before the ‘event’ even concluded.

In truth, there had only ever been one choice.

He gnashed his teeth.

“You bastard…!”

《‘Lyca’ challenges ‘Eternal Randolph.’》
《‘Curse of Domination’ is triggered; he has been subjugated.》

—

The Boss Room.

The domain where the third phase, Eternal Randolph, resided.

The moment they set foot inside:

《You are now under the authority of ‘Eternal Randolph.’》
《Subjugated entities are prohibited from attacking one another.》
《Eliminate the trespassers.》
《Should ‘Eternal Randolph’ fall, the ‘Curse of Domination’ will transform into the ‘Curse of Death.’》

Several lines of script hovered in the air. The chamber was already packed with those who had dared to challenge him and were met with failure.

“Pheromone… you idiot.”

Pheromone was among them. The Ant King. He had been stripped of his former majesty. Laktusha clicked his tongue in disappointment. He had always known that the Ant King’s tendency to charge blindly would be his downfall, but he hadn’t expected the end to come so abruptly.

‘Where is ‘Eternal Randolph’?’

Lyca scanned the room, but he couldn’t spot anyone who looked like the legendary figure. Instead:

“He is… that person there is ‘Eternal Randolph.’”
“…Aria?”

A new figure emerged. It was Aria, daughter of the White King, who had entered the fray claiming she would unmask Randolph. Having appeared out of nowhere, she was now silently gesturing toward a specific point.

Qiongqi, struggling for breath, asked, “…Are you claiming the Ant King Pheromone is ‘Eternal Randolph’?”

“The Ant King is currently in the middle of molting.”

Looking closer, it was indeed peculiar. Pheromone was motionless, his body curled tightly in on itself.

“‘Eternal Randolph’ has taken residence within the molting body of the Ant King. The process will be complete shortly.”

“Residence? Are you saying ‘Eternal Randolph’ lacks a physical form of his own?”

Aria gave a solemn nod but offered no further explanation. She had seen Randolph’s true form—the form of that ‘swordsman.’ But she chose to remain silent. Regardless of the circumstances, that ‘swordsman’ was the one who had saved her life. Furthermore, there was something unsettling about Randolph’s current state.

Suddenly:

Koo-rung!
Koo-reureureung!

“What’s happening?”
“Why is the room… vibrating?”

The Boss Room began to heave. Yet, Eternal Randolph was still dormant inside the Ant King. What could be causing this sudden upheaval? The answer arrived shortly.

《‘It’ challenges ‘Eternal Randolph.’》

“…It followed us here?”

The eyes of everyone present widened in terror. It had pursued them. ‘It.’ The nightmare entity drenched in despair!

Shu-ung!
Shu-uu-ung!
Shu-uuu-ung!

Moreover, it didn’t come alone. It arrived with a massive wave of ‘challengers.’ The hundreds of thousands of souls who had been ascending the Tower appeared all at once, now mere puppets under the control of ‘It.’

—

I stared at the summoned ‘King of Ill-Omen.’

But I was frozen, unable to do anything but watch.

“…Was it you who called for me?”

The being standing before me was not the ‘King of Ill-Omen.’ I forced the name out of my mouth.

“War God Karas…?”

Why had Karas appeared? He was the deity who oversaw the Tower of the War God and was also known as the ‘King of Ash.’ He was not the King of Ill-Omen. Was this a trick played by the two gods?

—Kawk?
—Kawk?

…Apparently not. Both the God of Ill-Omen and the God of Calamity were tilting their heads, seemingly just as confused as I was. I had to demand an explanation.

“Karas. What is happening within the Tower right now?”

“Who are you…? By what right have you breached the ‘Gap’ to interfere with the trials?”

Karas didn’t recognize me. In fact, he was visibly incensed.

“Are you attempting to halt the struggle of these mindless Primary Gods? Desist. I will never permit that.”

Karas unfurled his wings with a sharp snap.

“If one side is crushed, that side faces total extinction. The crows who lose their Primary God will dwindle, lose their wits, and forfeit their control over this Tower. Did you enter this place unaware of that?”

That was the reason those two had been locked in an eternal stalemate. A foolish pact dictated that the loser would be erased from existence. Whether it was the Clan of Ill-Omen or the Clan of Calamity, the disappearance of either would shatter the world’s equilibrium. That was why they barred entry to the ‘Gap of the Tower.’ It was a fundamental law established by both the King of Ill-Omen and the King of Ash. Seeing a stranger break that law was enough to fuel his rage.

“…Answer me. Why were you summoned in his place?”

I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. Karas appeared when I had specifically called for the King of Ill-Omen.

“I asked what your goal is, King of Ash, War God Karas.”

“…To fix what is broken. To return the world to its proper state.”

His answer remained cryptic. What was clear, however, was that the chaos currently unfolding in the Tower was linked to him.

“I will no longer be a pawn in the games of senile gods. A deity who forsakes their own kind is no longer a Primary God. Therefore, I am taking control.”

Guaaaaaaaaa!

A divine aura began to coalesce around Karas. He was powerful—frighteningly so. He had grown even stronger since our last encounter at the Tower of the War God where I was defeated. I had lost even while possessing Randolph’s physical form; in my current state, victory was a mathematical impossibility.

‘Wait, could it be?’

The most grim realization struck me.

—He has synthesized the essence of the King of Ill-Omen.
—Mmm.

The Primary Gods spoke, confirming my suspicion. He had merged with the factor of the King of Ill-Omen. There was only one person who could have provided that.

‘Did he consume Randolph?’

Randolph was the only one capable of carrying the legacy of the Terrible Ill-Omen and the King of Ill-Omen. …But even if that were true, he couldn’t have taken everything. The ‘Paradox of Fate’ wasn’t triggering despite Karas standing right in front of me.

“Cease to exist.”

Koo-rung!
Kwa-aaaa-ang!

Divine thunder crashed down from a cloudless sky. It was a bolt designed for absolute annihilation, a strike that could not be dodged.

“…What is that?”

However, the strike never landed. Karas wasn’t the only thing that had been summoned.

“Is that… the ‘Throne of the Sun God’?”

The legendary seat of the Sun God. The ‘Throne of Light’ had manifested alongside me. I didn’t understand why it appeared, but while one occupied that throne, all harm was negated. Even Karas’s divinity was useless against it.

Karas merely smirked. “That seat isn’t eternal. When the sun dips below the horizon, your sanctuary will vanish.”

The sun in the sky was indeed beginning its descent. Once the light faded, the Throne of Light would be powerless. I had to act before that happened.

“What will you give up, and what will you become? Regardless, the end remains the same.”

The Throne of Light was more than a shield; it was an altar that required ‘sacrifices’ to bring something into being. Riley of the Six-Sided Sword Saint and the Terrible Ill-Omen had both been manifested through its power. But in this moment, my options for sacrifices were severely limited. Even if I offered what I had, I couldn’t bridge the gap between myself and this empowered Karas.

I searched my mind. ‘I have nothing left to give?’

That wasn’t true. My gear was insufficient—the Primordial Armor and the Spear of Longinus were eternal artifacts, and thus couldn’t be sacrificed.

‘There is one thing I can give.’

The thought solidified instantly. I offered up the only thing of sufficient value.

《You offer the ‘Throne of Light’ itself as a sacrifice.》
《The ‘Throne of Light’ ascends to the ‘Most Holy Throne of Light’ for a fleeting moment.》
《Access granted to ‘Holy Radiance (Lv. 50).’》
《You summon the spirit of the most exalted and sacred being to the throne.》
《Based on the magnitude of the summoned spirit, the ‘Complete Golden Rule’ is depleted.》

What could I possibly bring forth to change the tide? This was the final utility of the Throne of Light. I needed something far beyond Riley or even the Terrible Ill-Omen.

‘I summon the mightiest entity I have ever known.’

There was only one name that fit the description.