Chapter 37

Chapter 37. The Absolute God, Force Majeure

World No. 394.

Proof that before Earth, 393 more worlds had been destroyed under the pretense of the gods' Game.

While all those stars burned to ash, they must have sat on their thrones and cackled.

Ding!

A message window appeared.

Anonymous comments from the gods were streaming in real time.

[Anon 11: Oh, that guy. I remember him. The one who cut my Avatar's head off.]

[Anon 59: Tenacious bastard. Watching him struggle to the bitter end was quite the show.]

[Anon 39: Why is he only coming up now? I would've bought him ages ago.]

[Anon 44: Perfect as a collectible. I've got an empty spot in my display case.]

Revolting.

To someone, it had been a fight staked on their life. A desperate tale of survival.

But to these creatures, it was merely a bygone episode—or a well-crafted toy.

'A collectible.'

The most nauseating word of all.

A chilling thought flickered through my mind.

What if I hadn't been able to regress?

What if I'd resisted and ultimately failed and died?

Would my soul, too, have ended up in a glass tube at an auction house?

[Item: Earth's Deranged Mage]
[Description: The lunatic who tried to blow up the entire planet.]

That was probably how they would have introduced me.

"Ha."

A hollow laugh escaped.

It wasn't someone else's story.

The Sword Saint inside that glass tube was nothing less than another version of me—one who had failed.

"Bidding begins! Starting price, one hundred thousand Nectar!"

With the auctioneer's shout, lights flashed.

"One-fifty!"

"Two hundred!"

"Three hundred!"

The price skyrocketed.

Once it passed five hundred thousand Nectar, the pace of bidding slowed slightly.

The soul inside the glass tube opened its mouth.

A soundless scream.

It was crying out to be freed. Begging to be killed.

But the cries didn't reach the gods.

They were pricing even the soul's agony as 'rarity.'

Ruined nobility.

Trampled dignity.

It was heartbreaking.

A corner of my chest ached.

But.

'I can't buy it on sympathy alone.'

I forced myself to stay cold.

Five hundred thousand Nectar.

Not a small sum.

It was too large to burn just because I felt sorry.

That money could strengthen my floor further or expand my forces.

Rationally, giving up was the right call.

And yet.

Hummm.

"......?"

My left hand trembled.

The left hand that had been discharging Hellfire and releasing Disasters.

If the right hand was 'Predation,' the left was the domain of 'Emission.'

But right now, an unfamiliar light was seeping from that left palm.

'Blue?'

Not red, not black.

A clear, blue rune surfaced on my palm.

At the same time.

Hisss.

Thin blue threads extended from my left hand.

Their ends pointed precisely at the Sword Saint inside the glass tube.

'This is......'

Resonance.

Something latent within me was drawn to that soul.

It was nothing like possessiveness.

More like the intense pull of finding a lost half.

Different in nature from the right hand's Predation.

This wasn't devouring.

This was 'connection.'

'Accept it.'

Instinct whispered.

I had to obtain that soul.

Only then could I advance to the next stage.

I didn't know why.

But I trusted my senses.

What had kept me alive until now was an intuition sharper than reason.

"Five hundred fifty! Five-fifty on the board! Anyone else?"

The auctioneer prepared the countdown.

I placed my hand on the bidding console.

The hesitation was over.

Press.

I entered the number.

An overwhelming amount to crush all competition.

"Eight hundred thousand."

The number lit up on the display.

A murmur rippled through the venue.

"E-eight hundred thousand?!"

The auctioneer's eyes went wide.

No matter how legendary the soul, this price was overpaying.

No one else followed.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"Sold! To the anonymous bidder!"

The glass tube was transferred to my room.

The Sword Saint's soul, now right before me.

Up close, the blue threads connecting us were even more vivid.

The rune on my left hand vibrated as if in jubilation.

'What on earth is this thing?'

The identity of this blue rune.

And what was the relationship between that soul and me?

It was time to find out.

I touched the glass tube.

ZAP.

A rejection.

—......!!!

The Sword Saint's soul inside screamed.

Eyes rolling back, thrashing wildly.

Hatred.

A primal hostility toward gods.

The fury toward the beings who had annihilated his world and imprisoned even his soul surged through my fingertips.

But.

Hummm.

The blue rune etched on my left palm glowed.

—......?

The soul faltered.

Hsssh.

The resistance ceased.

The Sword Saint's expression turned calm.

The rage toward gods remained, but the hostility directed at me, at least, was withdrawn.

The soul flowed along the blue threads and seeped into my left hand.

Ding!

[Soul No. 1, 'The Sword Saint of Garsia,' has been stored.]
['Soul Bestowal' activates.]

'Soul Bestowal?'

An unfamiliar power.

I wondered if it fell under Necromancy or Death Magic, but it felt different.

It seemed to be a far higher-order power—one that overlaid a soul's strength onto a weapon or a subject.

If the right hand was 'Predation.'

'......Is the left hand "Dominion"?'

I didn't know.

I still didn't know the source of this power.

But one thing was certain: it would become a tremendous weapon.

"Now, the next item!"

The auctioneer's shout broke my reverie.

A second glass tube rose on the lift.

I glanced over idly.

And froze.

"This time, we have the soul of one called the 'Great Sage' from a destroyed world!"

Great Sage.

A title I knew all too well.

And inside the glass tube, the soul of an old man with a white beard.

'......Flunum?'

A groan escaped before I could stop it.

A comrade from my past life.

The mentor and friend who had taught me the principles of magic.

Great Sage Flunum was there.

'Why?'

It made no sense.

He had climbed the Tower with me.

He had fought to the bitter end to prevent Earth's destruction.

In the final moment, he had perished shielding us from the enemy's assault.

And yet.

Why was he among the souls of a world said to have been destroyed long before Earth?

That was when the gods' messages filled my vision.

[Anon 3: Oh, that's a good one.]

[Anon 58: Excellent mana circuits. Optimal for crafting an 'Avatar.']

[Anon 95: My last Avatar was too weak for my tastes. I should switch to that one.]

[Anon 51: The Intelligence modifier must be high. Tempting.]

......Avatars?

It felt like being struck across the head.

The puzzle fell into place.

Hideously, perfectly.

They harvested the souls of destroyed worlds.

Then used those souls as raw material to create 'Avatars.'

They sculpted the shell, breathed their own Divinity into it, and played their Game.

Then.

'Was Flunum...... an Avatar from the very start?'

The Great Sage who had stood beside me.

The old man who had flung spells left and right, swearing he'd save humanity.

Was he, in truth, an elaborate puppet crafted by someone?

The Final Five of the Final Strike Force.

Me, Kim Jeong-seok.

And Park Hayan.

We were definitely human.

But the other three?

Sword Emperor Aritolt.

Battle Emperor Yamamoto.

Great Sage Flunum.

'Could all three of them be......?'

I bit my lip.

Please, let it not be so.

Because those three had been so unbelievably strong.

Power that far exceeded the bounds of humanity.

A growth rate too absurd to chalk up to fortune.

But it might not be the case.

Park Hayan wasn't an Avatar either, and she'd achieved overwhelming growth.

I, too, had reached the pinnacle in the mage's domain.

CRACK.

I clenched my fist.

I had to buy that soul too.

Even if Flunum had been raw material for an Avatar, the memories and personality within him couldn't all be fabricated.

I had to confirm.

How far they had deceived us.

And which god had worn that shell.

Hummm.

My left hand resonated again.

The vibration was even more violent than with the Sword Saint's soul.

The blue rune glyphs on my palm burned as though they'd scorch the skin.

'I have to have it.'

Instinct struck like a blow.

Flunum.

His soul was not mere material.

It was the key to unlocking the truth—and a decisive clue to dismantling their Avatar manufacturing process.

"Bidding begins! Five hundred thousand!"

The starting price was already steep.

"Seven hundred!"

"Eight hundred!"

"One million!"

The price soared frantically.

A Great Sage's soul.

The Intelligence stat modifier was exceptionally high.

For gods who favored magic-type Avatars, it was a mouthwatering prize.

[Anon 12: 1.2 million. Hand it over.]

[Anon 4: Don't make me laugh. 1.3 million.]

The competition was fierce.

It was turning into a clash of egos.

I fixed the bidding console with ice-cold eyes.

To me, Nectar was just a number.

But I couldn't let them take this.

The soul of the man who had been my mentor and comrade, reduced once more to their plaything—I'd die before I let that happen.

I pressed the button.

"Two million."

Silence.

The entire Colosseum went quiet, as though doused with cold water.

Murmurs drifted from beyond the private rooms.

[Anon 12: ......Two million?]

[Anon 88: Is he insane? Over a mere soul?]

[Anon 4: Must be drowning in Nectar.]

Shock. And suspicion.

The nerve to hike seventy thousand Nectar in one leap.

An overwhelming display of capital that no one could match.

The auctioneer called out in a trembling voice.

"T-two million! Any further bids?"

None.

Of course not.

No matter how divine they were, no fool would burn two million Nectar on a single piece of Game material.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"Sold!"

The glass tube was transferred to my room.

Flunum's soul stood before me.

I clenched my fist.

'Saved.'

But the vibration in my left hand didn't stop.

There was one more.

One more soul that I needed—that my power craved.

***

The auction ended.

The stares from the gods behind me burned, but I ignored them.

Floor 7, a sealed chamber within the golden temple.

I lined up three glass tubes side by side.

The Sword Saint of Garsia.

Great Sage Flunum.

And.

'The Bow Demon.'

[Item: The 'Bow Demon' Who Shot Down the Sun]
[Description: A sniper from ruined World No. 402. Boasts stealth that evades even a god's eye and unerring marksmanship.]

Only these three had resonated with my left hand.

'How do I use them?'

I deliberated.

Absorption didn't seem right.

If it were, the power wouldn't have been named 'Soul Bestowal.'

Bestowal.

Overlaying onto a subject.

Which meant a subject was required.

That was when it happened.

HUMMMM!

The third glass tube—the Bow Demon's soul—vibrated violently.

As though calling to someone.

At the same time.

"......Master?"

Seria's voice came from outside the sealed chamber.

She entered.

And then.

"Ah......!"

Seria's gaze locked onto the Bow Demon's soul.

As if entranced.

The soul, too, surged at the sight of Seria.

Resonance.

They had recognized each other.

'I see.'

It clicked.

The purpose of these souls.

They were a 'new power,' bestowed upon those who were worthy—those whose vessel matched.

Ding!

[Conditions met.]
[Subject: Frost Tribe 'Seria']
[Condition 1: Must be an apostle.]
[Condition 2: Loyalty must have broken through the ceiling.]
[Condition 3: Soul and aptitude must align.]

Every condition was fulfilled.

Seria was my vassal and, in practice, my apostle.

Her loyalty had maxed out long ago.

And she was the Frost Tribe's greatest marksman.

There was no more perfect vessel for the Bow Demon's soul.

I looked at Seria.

"Seria."

"Y-yes!"

"Do you want to become stronger?"

Her eyes blazed.

There was no hesitation.

"I do. If it means being of use to you, Master, I would sell my soul to a devil."

Venom.

And desperation.

She passed.

I opened the glass tube.

I gripped the soul with my left hand.

Blue rune glyphs covered my entire palm, absorbing the soul.

"Take it."

I placed my hand on Seria's forehead.

'Soul Bestowal.'

WHOOOOSH!

Light exploded.

The Bow Demon's soul was sucked into Seria's body.

RUMBLE!

Her body levitated.

The surrounding mana swirled into a vortex.

Her silver hair grew even longer, and eerie cross-shaped markings were etched into her blue eyes.

Transcendence.

The moment of shedding a race's limitations and being reborn as an existence on an entirely new plane.

A moment later.

The light subsided.

Seria touched down on the ground.

She was different.

Her entire aura had changed.

A presence that was cold, sharp, and lethal.

She opened her eyes.

Ding!

['Soul Bestowal' successful.]
['Causality' connects.]
[Vassal 'Seria' transcends.]
[Hidden Class 'Frost Bow Demon' acquired!]
[Potential unlocked!]
[Unique Skill acquired!]
[Maximum level increased by 50!]

Soul Bestowal, and the connection of Causality.

She'd gained a Hidden Class, and her level cap had expanded by fifty.

On top of that, her potential had been unlocked, granting her a unique skill.

If that wasn't transcendence, what was?

'Can I bestow one on myself?'

The thought suddenly occurred to me.

I was the one who'd absorbed them. Couldn't I bestow one on myself?

With every Talent maxed out, aptitude shouldn't be an issue.

"M-Master......!"

Leaving a visibly moved Seria staring at me, I raised my left hand and pressed it against my own chest.

Channeling the first soul—the Sword Saint's.

'Soul Bestowal.'

Ding!

[The Sword Saint's soul resists desperately.]
[It is afraid.]
[It is paralyzed with terror.]

The Sword Saint, who had faced the destruction of an entire world—what could possibly frighten him?

Soon, another message appeared.

Ding!

[A soul has already been bestowed.]
[Currently bestowed soul: 'Force Majeure']