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Slay Hero
Chapter 91

Chapter 91

The arena erupted into a frenzy. Thunderous cheers and vitriol of all manner of intent and intensity swirled into a cascade of mania. But among this, neither Shin nor the dhampyr moved an inch. The fervor directed at Shin sunk into a silent void around him as though it wasn’t there at all. And he tilted his head.

“What are you doing?” A casual and simple question, asked with all honesty.

“I could ask the same of you.”

“You have to fight.”

“So it seems.”

“You’re weird.” The dhampyr didn’t respond, and Shin fell into thought. He didn’t get it, not fully. It didn’t really bother Shin but he wanted him to get it. Shin tilted his head the other way, unsure of how to make him understand. But there was something more important.

“I’ll start.”

A wave of quake slammed into a barrier around the dhampyr, narrowed and targeted. The stage beneath cracked and chipped away under the pressure but neither the barrier nor the face of the man within changed. A probing mindfray faded into nothing and a vicious assault on his own mind returned.

A telekinetic blast sent Shin crashing back, and he raised his naginata just in time to block a thin silver longsword slashing on its own. The silver sword swirled and struck rapidly from all around in a manner impossible were it wielded by a person, forcing Shin to commit to defense while the assault still raged on his mind.

He led the sword erratically until he was close enough to blink right before dhampyr. He swung his blade and a force shot him back, the silver longsword taking an arm even as he tried to twist away. The sword struck again and he caught it with his regenerated hand, covered in a glove of quake, and shattered the weapon.

Shin turned to find two more identical weapons hovering around the psion. He spun his naginata horizontal as the two silver swords soared towards him, and pulled it apart into two katana blades at the end of short staffs. A sword in each hand he fended off the silver weapons clean, catching them as they crossed paths for an instant to destroy both in a single quake. But the shards all around floated in the air and flew back to the dhampyr reforming the three weapons around where he stood, still yet unmoved.

Shin knew he’d run out of mana if this continued. Black and white mana coated his blades and he burst forward. The three silver swords shot with him and he deflected all in kind. They slashed and soared in pursuit as Shin darted all around, cracking and chipping away with his skillless strikes until all three broke.

Shin flickered in front of the dhampyr and darted to the side as he baited the telekinetic blast. Both blades slashed and he froze in place completely. Blink failed and the three swords impaled him from behind. A duality infused greater spellbreak broke the hold but the swords twirled, splitting him in five.

Kong appeared behind for a brief moment, pushing the five slabs of Shin together before they fell while Mara covered them in layers of wards. Shin’s wounds welded in an instant and a mass of ghostly blue foxfire flared at the dhampyr. A blast shot through but the fire writhed around surging on his barrier. Duality blazed within and the flames started to slip through.

A massive force blasted everything away in all directions. The foxfire snuffed out and Shin crashed back. A force caught him mid air and ricocheted him all through the arena like a ragdoll. Slamming a broken body down as the three silver swords nailed him to the floor. A cold seeped through his body, slowing his regeneration and poisoning his flesh with death.

Shin laid there, casually and unhurried. At this rate he would lose. And he could not allow that. A force swelled and the swords shattered instantly into finer pieces that before. Shin rose unnaturally, shards of light falling from his body. He sought something beyond simple raw force. He sought the most violent erratic vibrations and the smoothest calm ripples, and everything in between.

[Quake has upgraded to the mythic tier skill Pulse]

He blitzed in front of dhampyr, landing a prismatic fist clad in duality right into his core. The vestiges of Telekinesis and the shards of a shattered Barrier that he rammed through with the propulsion of Pulse left in his wake. Shin felt it work, felt the sundering run deep even if it did not show on the dhampyr’s face.

He struck again, but the dhampyr scattered into dust reforming away at the speed of teleportation. Shin blitzed again and dhampyr appeared in his mind. Shin’s body froze in place, twitched and straining. It was not an assault this time, but a compulsion, and order. Domination.

“There’s no way out. If you have not the means to withstand this much, what lies ahead is beyond you.” The dhampyr spoke as Shin struggled. “I know not what drives you, but there are walls one cannot pass. Try and try, in the fleeting dream. All things end.”

A terrible weight fell on the world. Blood streaked down Shin’s eyes behind his mask, grim and frightful beyond comprehension. The domination ripped from his mind and a prismatic fist slammed into the dhampyr’s face. Shin blitzed after the man, breaking through his defenses like a madman as he pummeled him with truestrikes, recklessly, ceaselessly until a bare fist struck.

Robes and mask faded away with the last of his mana as he stood over the dying dhampyr, soul past the point of saving. His face was blank, almost serious beyond the indifferent nonchalance before the passionless man.

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“Try more.”

The dhampyr looked back in silence, giving no response. The cracks in his soul spread until it broke, and his body turned to ash. Shin lingered with a moment in silence before leaning up to the roar of the crowd and spectacular rain of lights.

The stage remained as it was around it, but eight giant marble statues rose from the ground. An imposing broad faced man with a long braided beard banded together. A young muscular warrior in cloth and bracers wear the helm of a bird. A heroic young man in cloth with long flowing hair, proud and domineering. A beautiful woman in silk gown with the symbol of the sun on her forehead and an intelligent smile.

A tattooed man of incredible might in barbarian clothes, hair tied back and face in a victorious rage. A shredded giant woman with long curled hair, fierce eyed and delighted. A thin old man with a long beard in mage’s robes. A savage warrior with a shield and club sword wearing a feathered headdress. An in the center ahead, a statue rose of Shin as he was, slight casual smile with unwavering hollow eyes.

“Behold, your ninth champion! Shin!”

[Acquired Title: Champion]

‘50% bonus to all attributes.’

A screen appeared before Shin, his other reward for the victory. The greatest reward thus far. An unrestricted choice of any mythic tier ability within the system. Shin scoured through the list immediately, but his subtle enthusiasm waned. There was no ability to find a soul outside the tower, none to recover any soul, none to leave the tower. Nothing he desired appeared at all. He paused for a moment, quiet among the revelry, and searched for something else.

[Acquired mythic tier trait Vestiger.]

‘Designate an ability of a monster that will follow them through evolution with an additional skill slot.’

In his hands, a black silk vest appeared stemming from a banded gold collar.

[Spiritmaster Vest]

‘Passive Ability: Decrease the cost of summoning or calling spirits by half.’

“Go forth now into the Tower true. Thou fortunate. Thou chosen. Beloved is the fate that awaits thee.” A chorus of indescribable beauty and splendor rose with the familiar goddess’ words, and the world turned to light. All throughout, the tower trembled and the gods felt the change of fate more chaotic and perilous than any epoch before.

“I knew you’d be a problem but I didn’t think it’d be this much. Ah, it’s gonna be a pain…” Shin found himself in the void opposite Onamuji once again. The god hovered lazily about with a sigh. “Well first things first. Well done.”

The god rotated into a seated hover. “Don’t actually have much advise for you this time. But things’ll probably work out for you. Just keep doing what you think best. I have a lot to explain about a lot of things but that’ll have to wait until we meet. Be a while ‘till then, though.”

“Mythic didn’t have what I wanted.” Shin spoke up, hollow eyes with a trace of desire. “What’s above that?”

“Gods.” Onamuji smiled, a weight within his words. “If there’s something you want in this world, take it with your own will. Beyond Monarch lies the law you seek.”

Red lightning sparked violently around Onamuji but nothing changed. “Rise to the peak in this perilous sea. And take it.”

Shin found himself back in the forest, calm breeze rustling his hair gentle in the serenity of nature.

“That tournament was mad.”

“Fight~?”

“I will spar.” Mujin volunteered.

“Probably best I join you, first time.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“Yeah you do.” Donny assured.

“How broken is your title that we get 30% just for being in your party?” Yen asked. “Why is it called Honorguard. Makes us sound like underlings…”

Shin turned around to face them in the midst of the clamor, eyes deep and genuine.

“I want to be above gods.”

A blunt declaration of something so grand it took some of them back. But within the simmering silence rose an atmosphere of wills united. Some excited, some inspired, some resolved, some prudent, all starting to flow in the same direction with increasingly zeal, centered around a hollow eyed boy who dreamed of nothing and all it entailed.

---

Asmodeus walked through the red stone halls of his castle with a smile on his face. His mood had been exceeding good since the ninth epoch began and the conclusion only served to improve it more. Elation might have taken hold were he the type to ever allow emotion to muddy his thoughts for even a moment.

Red and gold robes of unparalleled make adorned with gems and finery complimented long silky black hair and a pale face of beauty. Were it not for the pitch black eyes and red pupils, he would pass for a human. And in truth, if he desired it so, that could change as well, but could never do something so unsightly as to forget himself for his love.

He opened a brass door bound only to him and passed through. None but a mere handful could ever hope to even reach this far in the lowest floor of his personal castle deep in his ninth layer of hell, let alone enter, but that was no cause for carelessness. A single flaw can lead to the fall.

Asmodeus ascended the steps of a platform. In the center, two green skinned demons held up a large tome, blood draining from their eyes and trembling but never did the tome move an inch. The Prince of Gehenna closed his eyes and drew a third, this one distinctly human with glowing silvery pupils. With that eye and that eye alone he gaze over the contents of the tome once more. Intent directed to the pedestal demons caused them to shudder and a page turned on its own.

“You will never reach the end.” Mask spoke in casual posture.

“Such is the curse of curiosity.” Asmodeus showed no sign of surprise at the Jester’s appearance, continuing to read from the tome. “The time has come then, I suppose. I will set things in motion.”

“There is the small matter of the flame.” Mask’s position changed without notice, sitting now on a stack of books ahead.

“That will require another deal.” The pupil of the eye in Asmodeus’ hands started to shrink and he withdrew from the tome to find Mask leaning over it from the other side, peering at its contents without care.

“Alas, this simple servant has not the means to acquire what you seek. Fret not, dear Prince.” Mask spoke from behind as he walked away. “I shall handle it.”

Asmodeus turned in silence to an empty room, his mood worsened just slightly. But he did not let that affect him. Through the brass door and the hallway he headed back, sealing everything behind as he went. Glimmers of mana took him far away to a throne of grandeur in the center of a majestic great hall, and he sat.

“D-devastation… m-m-misery, a most t-terrible era.” A haggard old woman cackled from the side, sunken eyes and a body stretched too wide to be human. A fervor took hold as she spat an endless stream of consciousness with overbearing zeal. “Abaddon. Shaddai. Bane of Fate. End of All. The Heavens crumble. The Hells drown in rivers of blood. Fate has forsaken us. The Tower will fall to Chaos.”

“Yes.” Asmodeus looked up at nothing in particular. “How enchanting it all shall be.”