Chapter 391: The Time He Waited, The Time He Walked (4)
From the moment he was forged, he was a solitary blade.
[Oh! It’s done!]
[It’s finally forged!]
Many people do not remember the first moment the world gnawed at them. It is only after time has nurtured the body, and the body has made the mind resilient, that meaningful cognition arises and creates memories. But for him, the length of his existence was synonymous with his memories.
[At last, it has been created!]
[It has been tempered!]
[The Grand Magic is complete!]
[It is what we have finally forged!]
Those surrounding the completely formed person called out thus.
[The Primal Blade!]
He looked around at the people.
[Oh!]
[Primal Blade!]
The people gathered before him seemed empty. Their emaciated fingers testified that everything they had grasped in their lives had slipped away like sand.
Those fingers, quivering like countless seaweeds in the deep sea, clutched at his sleeves.
[Our]
The destitute spoke.
[Sorrow]
[Pain]
They said.
[Disappointment] [Despair]
They voiced.
[Agony] [Suffocation] [Hunger] [Thirst]
They articulated.
[Recognize us!]
[Take responsibility for us!]
Thus, the destitute cried out in unison.
[Save us!]
He looked intently at them, then turned his head away.
The people who gathered behind him seemed frail. Their trembling legs revealed the hardship of the paths they had walked thus far, and the fear of the paths yet to come.
One by one, their legs folded like logs, kneeling at his feet.
[Our]
The weak spoke.
[Future]
[Fear]
They voiced.
[Hope] [Longing]
They declared.
[Waiting] [Regret] [Fear] [Wish]
They articulated.
[Feel for us!]
[Bear our burdens!]
[Take responsibility for us!]
Thus, the weak cried out in unison.
[Lead us!]
There were many such people.
Since the Primal Strike, no light had ever penetrated this place. Inside a cave where only darkness festered and rotted, countless people had gathered. Wherever he turned his head, there was such a crowd. They beseeched, implored, pleaded, and begged him.
From the moment he was forged, he was a solitary blade, signifying that he was ready for the targets and reasons he had to swing for.
In other words, he was the protagonist of this world.
[This world exists solely for you.]
The one who governed the Grand Magic stated.
[All other humans are but phantoms. Straw men. Empty cans.]
The one who made such declarations did not seem destitute or weak. They did not resemble a phantom, a straw man, or an empty can.
Yet, the orchestrator continued unwaveringly.
[If there is any reason for the existence of others in this world, it is solely to be shattered by you.]
[To prove that you are right.]
Pointing at the destitute.
[To be saved by you.]
Pointing at the weak.
[To be protected by you.]
Pointing at himself and then at others.
[To be surpassed by you.]
Somehow, he could sense the truth in those words.
‘Is that so.’
He understood.
‘In this vast world, am I the only one who is special?’
Am I…
alone?
Dusk had settled.
The shadows left by the sun were gradually devoured. This corrosion occurred sporadically, and the dark spots claimed their places like constellations in the sky. Though everything would turn dark eventually, for now, they only spread their roots on the twilight. Beside them, a spider was dying. Next to the convulsing spider, a slender, trembling finger hovered.
It was the hand of a pale and thin woman. Following the green veins on the back of her hand up her slender wrist and arm, one could see that they extended like branches of a tree on a winter day. The woman, gasping for breath with her face buried in the dirt, was the Grey Spider.
The Grey Spider was dying.
“…….”
The bitter fate built by the Magic Tower. The hatred she accumulated. The endless challenges had eventually brought down her, who was once the emperor of the 50th floor.
“We won…”
Someone next to the dying spider spoke.
“Finally. At last, we’ve won.”
The Grey Spider knew precisely who the voice belonged to.
Even in the darkness, it didn’t matter. Despite nearly losing her sight and hearing, she could tell.
Despite the multitude of people gathered around the Grey Spider, despite so many witnessing her demise, the Grey Spider could identify the owner of the voice accurately.
Because she knew them all.
“What a monster!”
The man who just spat out those words was named Rodrick.
He was a werewolf from the White Wolf World, who had lost his family to the Magic Tower. The mages of the tower cherished the Moon Circle Stones embedded deep within the hearts and brains of werewolves as materials for ornaments. The more the werewolves starved, the brighter the Moon Circle Stones glowed, so the tower made it standard practice to imprison werewolves and starve them to death to harvest the stones.
“Devil…”
The sobbing woman was named Yichunlin.
Yichunlin came from the Dragon Fire World. Her race, called Diliks, resembled trees more than humans. A rare example in the lineage of intelligent life.
The boundless expansion of power and inflated self-awareness turn the living space of others into one’s own stepping stone. The mages of the tower gladly substituted the rarity of Diliks for preciousness. Renowned mages planted Diliks in their personal flower pots, trimmed their various appendages with knives and scissors to their liking. The fruit that they bore once a year, apart from tasting good, enhanced the magic power of the eater, making it a favored delicacy.
“I wanted to be the one to kill her.”
The Grey Spider knew the name of the one muttering so.
“It was my right to have that privilege.”
She knew well where the one grinding their teeth in anger had come from.
“I…”
“Only I…”
“It should have been me…”
All of them had reasons to wish for her death.
The Grey Spider had been the queen of the Magic Tower. She bore the responsibility for all the deeds committed by the tower. It wasn’t as if the Grey Spider was innocent.
Her hands were stained a deep red, burdened by far too many unnecessary bloodsheds.
“It was supposed to be me first.”
“Don’t joke! My right to challenge came first.”
“Why couldn’t you even wait for my turn…”
Growling voices surrounded the Grey Spider, weaving a web of enmity and tension with their words and breaths.
Someone stepped forward.
“Stop it.”
The Grey Spider knew who this someone was.
She knew that this individual wished for her death more than anyone else present.
This someone was the very person who had defeated her— the challenger in the recent battle.
“What’s this?”
“You think winning the challenge gives you the right to preside over this?”
“You’re not sympathizing with this monster, are you?”
People bared their teeth. For those who had lost their skin to the tower and were left with exposed flesh, everything that happened in the world felt like a biting cold wind.
But the challenger spoke calmly.
“We didn’t come here to fight among ourselves.”
People silenced themselves. They could sense the precariousness of his calm, like a tower built on ice with cards.
Suppressing his emotions, the challenger looked down at the Grey Spider.
“You’re dying, aren’t you?”
The Grey Spider’s lips parted weakly, but only a bubbling froth of blood escaped before they sealed again.
It didn’t matter. He had no interest in her response.
Or rather, he was intensely interested but was forcibly suppressing it.
“I hope you just die like this.”
The challenger crouched and whispered.
“Please, don’t try to show any will or spirit. Don’t flail about or try to leave a last will.”
“Just die as you are.”
The hushed whisper continued.
“You won’t have a dramatic death.”
The whisper was laced with a curse.
“There will be no coffin for you, no grave for your burial. No one will know the date of your death, so no one will commemorate it. I wish for you to die…”
“Lonely and forgotten.”
Silence ensued.
No one spoke. It wasn’t just because of the chilling hatred. They were silently agreeing with his words.
Just as the Grey Spider couldn’t forgive her own gods, they too couldn’t forgive the Grey Spider. It was just that. That was the end of it. Some things in the world simply end that way.
The Grey Spider knew this too. She knew it better than anyone.
“I…”
The Grey Spider coughed.
“I-I…”
She reached out with a withered hand.
Those gathered tensed. Even the challenger who had been pouring out curses hesitated, reaching for his weapon.
It was a misunderstanding. The Grey Spider had merely stretched her hand towards the night sky. Her fingers, spread like hooks, grasped at the star-studded sky once.
And then let go.
With a light thud, it was over.
“…….”
“…….”
And that was the end.
The Grey Spider didn’t open her mouth again. She couldn’t.
Literally, she was no longer among the living.
“Is she gone?”
“She’s gone.”
People murmured. Some approached and poked at the Grey Spider’s body with the butt of their weapons. Only when there was no response did a sigh of relief spread among them.
It was brief. The relief soon turned to questions.
“What was she trying to say?”
Murmurs resumed.
“She probably wanted to act arrogantly until the very end.”
“No, she was likely begging for her life in a pathetic manner.”
“Maybe she wanted to say sorry.”
“Or maybe…”
In the darkness of the fields, those murmurs almost spread like wildfire.
The challenger shouted.
“Enough!”
People halted and fell silent.
The challenger, with clenched teeth, declared.
“Don’t speculate.”
It was as if he was stamping out the embers of a forest fire.
“Don’t try to interpret or convey. Don’t try to find meaning.”
“…….”
“Understanding is necessary to harm, and comprehension is needed to kill. So, trying to understand the Grey Spider was only necessary when we were fighting. Now that she’s dead, there’s no need for that.”
The challenger stated firmly.
“Just forget it.”
People nodded silently. Someone echoed, [Right.] Another added, [Oblivion is the rightful hell for the soul of that monster to fall into.]
Following the challenger’s suggestion, they resolved to forget the existence of the Grey Spider entirely.
However.
“…….”
“…….”
They all knew it was impossible.
The death of the Grey Spider, in the end, left an indelible scar on those gathered here, much like her life had.
“Damn it…”
Filled with resentment and reproach, the challenger could only clench his teeth and turn away.
The body of the Grey Spider was left in the field, unclaimed by anyone.
But it wasn’t left alone.
[Key manifestation complete.]
A quiet declaration resonated.
[Despite facing the greatest turning point in their fate because of you, leading to their death, they hold no resentment towards you.]
[The 94th floor stage has been cleared.]
The one who heard the declaration looked down silently at the Grey Spider’s corpse.
No soul or semblance of it rose from the spider’s remains. There was no recognition of him, nor any confrontation with the Guardian Spirit by his side. Just as in life, there was no reconciliation or forgiveness between the Grey Spider and her victims after death.
Not yet, at least.
The one who heard the declaration knew such an event would happen. No matter how long it took, he knew it would happen, that he would facilitate it, that it was the role he had taken on long ago.
[You are entering the 95th floor.]
To make it happen, he would have to climb the tower.
