Chapter: 10
The Master of the Holy Sword
Immediately after the 3rd gate, ‘Sanctuary Purification,’ began.
Darakan, the seed of the Dark Elf clan, cheered inwardly.
“This is my chance.”
A bitter smile tugged at his lips.
The aptitude evaluation, which was the 2nd gate.
There, ‘Rag,’ whom he had considered his strongest competitor, had received a score of 0.
They had made a fuss about it being black, but in the end, the administrator Gugu’s evaluation was ‘nothingness.’
It meant he had zero aptitude for handling disasters.
‘Lucky bastard.’
Darakan was certain.
Winning the jackpot in the first test and obtaining the dragon of great calamity was merely divine luck.
And even that was a newly hatched baby dragon.
What could you do with a fist-sized lizard?
On the other hand, he was different.
“Go! Sweep them all away!”
Kuaaaaaaah!
Along with Darakan’s shout, a massive shadow covered the forest.
It was his familiar, the ‘Abyssal Dragon.’
Although not a full adult, the breath emanating from its house-sized body was overwhelming.
Whoosh!
The dark blue flames engulfed the corrupted spirits.
The mist-shaped monsters were annihilated without even being able to scream.
“Hahaha! Yes, this is it!”
Darakan clenched his fist.
Overwhelming military might.
This was truly the qualification to become a god.
It was a destructive power that someone like Rag could never even imitate.
‘I will take first place in this gate.’
Then, he could overtake that bastard in the overall score.
And ascend proudly as the master of the 1st floor.
Dreaming of that sweet future, Darakan dashed through the forest.
But.
“…Damn it, why are there so many?”
Not even 10 minutes had passed before Darakan’s expression twisted.
No matter how many he cut down, there was no end.
When he cleared away the mist, another wave of mist rushed in.
Each individual spirit was weak.
The Abyssal Dragon’s claws would burst dozens of them at a time.
The problem was the sheer quantity.
Keeeek!
Grrrrr…
Grotesque cries came from all directions.
The dark red mist obscured his vision.
It felt like being trapped in a swamp.
The more he struggled, the deeper he seemed to be sucked in.
“Huff, huff…”
Darakan’s breathing grew ragged.
Even the Abyssal Dragon showed clear signs of exhaustion.
The power of its breath had noticeably diminished.
‘This is insane.’
This wasn’t a test.
It was a massacre.
They were supposed to ‘purify’ tens of thousands, perhaps even hundreds of thousands, of spirits.
It was an impossible mission from the start.
“Grrk! Block them! Don’t let them get close!”
Darakan shouted irritably.
The spirits surged right up to his nose.
A stench that felt like it was rotting his skin pierced his nostrils.
Fear struck him.
‘If I’m struggling this much…’
Suddenly, he became curious about the safety of the other seeds.
He had a top-tier familiar like the Abyssal Dragon, and this was his predicament.
What about the others then?
‘They must all be dead.’
There was no need to see.
A pathetic death.
Especially that guy.
‘Rag.’
An incompetent with a 0 in disaster aptitude.
The only thing he had to rely on was a fist-sized baby dragon.
He was probably getting torn apart by spirits at the forest entrance right now.
He probably wouldn’t even have any bones left to find.
“Serves him right.”
Darakan took some consolation.
The reason he was struggling was because the difficulty was insane.
At least he was holding on, wasn’t he?
Just surviving was practically a guarantee of a top rank.
Just as he was rationalizing it to himself.
Flash!
From the center of the sanctuary, far in the distance, a flash of light exploded.
“…?”
He couldn’t believe his eyes.
It looked like the sun had risen.
The violet-sickened sky was instantly bleached white.
And then.
Kwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaang!
A deafening roar hit his eardrums with a delay.
The earth shook violently.
Standing trees were uprooted.
Darakan threw himself to the ground and screamed.
“Aaaargh! What the hell?!”
Had a nuclear bomb gone off?
The shockwave swept across the entire forest.
The spirits that had clung so tenaciously were caught in the blast and vanished without a trace.
The mist cleared.
The world fell silent.
Dazedly, Darakan raised his head.
At the center of the sanctuary, shrouded in dust and smoke.
A massive mushroom cloud was rising there.
‘What in the world… is that?’
Before he could grasp the situation.
Ding!
A system message appeared before his eyes.
[The 3rd gate, ‘Sanctuary Purification,’ has ended.]
[The contamination source of the sanctuary has been completely eliminated.]
[All seeds, cease your actions immediately.]
Ended?
Already?
Darakan’s mouth fell open.
They said the contamination source had been eliminated.
‘Who? How?’
Could it be that the administrator intervened?
Did they stop the test due to a difficulty adjustment failure?
Before his bewildered eyes, an additional message appeared.
[Calculating contribution to clearing the gate.]
[Announcing the rankings.]
Rankings.
Darakan swallowed hard.
Yes, if someone solved it, the rankings would show.
He had killed quite a few spirits early on with the Abyssal Dragon.
He could reasonably aim for first place.
But.
As he scrolled down, Darakan’s eyes widened impossibly.
[1st Place: Rag (Contribution 99.7%)]
[2nd Place: Darakan (Contribution 0.15%)]
[3rd Place: Seria (Contribution 0.1%)]
…]
“…Huh?”
His breath caught in his throat.
He thought he had misread the numbers.
99.7%?
He did it all by himself?
Furthermore, his own contribution in second place was a decimal point.
A value less than dust.
“Wh-what is this…?”
It didn’t make sense.
He couldn’t accept it.
They said his disaster aptitude was 0.
An empty shell with no abilities at all!
It’s a dream.
This is definitely a very bad dream.
Darakan rubbed his eyes.
He looked again, and again.
But the numbers floating in the air remained unchanged.
99.7%.
Smack!
He slapped his own cheek hard.
A stinging pain washed over him, but the nightmare didn’t end.
“How… does that make any sense?”
That massive mushroom cloud that obliterated the center of the sanctuary.
The destructive power that altered the very terrain itself.
Was that caused by a single human?
That guy who supposedly had 0 aptitude for disaster?
“That’s impossible! There’s no way he has that kind of power!”
Just as Darakan screamed in frustration.
Fwoooooosh!
The sky opened.
The storm clouds parted, and a pillar of blinding holy light poured down.
Within that light, someone slowly rose.
“…An angel?”
The seeds’ gazes locked onto the sky all at once.
Archangel Abriel.
The high-ranking being known as the sanctuary’s guardian was ascending to the heavens.
In her arms, she held someone.
Limp arms and legs.
A blond man with his head hung weakly.
It was Rag.
“Di-did he die?”
“There’s no way he survived that explosion.”
The seeds murmured.
It seemed he had perished, unable to withstand the blast’s aftermath.
A glimmer of hope returned to Darakan’s eyes.
Yes, he had to be dead.
Such an absurd monster shouldn’t exist in this world.
But.
[Hearken.]
The angel’s voice resounded throughout the sanctuary.
A voice so solemn it made the listener involuntarily feel pious.
[This one respected my children, and punished the Mad God that no one else could handle.]
Abriel cradled Rag’s body tenderly.
As if handling a holy relic.
[O most merciful, and most destructive one.]
She knelt in mid-air.
[I, Abriel, hereby swear from this day forth to serve you as my new god and sole master.]
“……!”
Before the shock could even erupt.
Fwooooosh!
A dazzling radiance burst from Abriel’s body.
Her physical form seemed to scatter into particles of light.
Then, it coalesced into a single shape.
Clang!
A clear, beautiful ringing sound.
Where the light faded, there was no longer an angel.
Instead.
A single holy sword, with a hilt shaped like a dazzling white wing, floated beside Rag.
“…Huh.”
Darakan couldn’t close his mouth.
Not only the Dragon of Great Calamity.
…Even the archangel of the sanctuary had willingly become a weapon to follow Rag.
* * *
Administrator Gugu pressed his forehead with his short wings.
‘…This is a disaster.’
His head throbbed.
This wasn’t part of the plan.
No, the entire scenario itself had been completely upended.
Originally, the design intention of the 3rd gate was clear.
On the surface, it was ‘Sanctuary Purification.’
But its true nature was ‘Contract Killing.’
The target was Archangel Abriel.
The goal was the release of the seal she was protecting with her life.
Namely, the liberation of the Mad God, Tulcacha.
‘I can’t let Tulcacha’s authority go to waste.’
Gugu clicked his tongue.
‘Raging Volcano.’
This power wasn’t just about spewing hot lava.
It was the power to grasp and shake the very veins of all volcanoes.
It was even a sovereign’s authority, capable of forcibly subjugating lower gods with fire and earth attributes.
It was enough to make the gods of the tower salivate.
But there was a problem.
Tulcacha had gone mad, and it was the noble Archangel Abriel who had sealed him.
‘There’s no justification.’
The gods valued their dignity.
Killing a perfectly fine archangel to release a mad god?
The public opinion of Asgard wouldn’t allow it.
So they played a trick.
They deployed ‘seeds’ who knew nothing into the sanctuary.
If the spirits attacked, the seeds would fight back to survive.
The plan was to naturally make them hostile towards Abriel.
If the seeds killed Abriel, the gods could just appear surreptitiously and retrieve only Tulcacha.
It was a perfect plan.
Until that bastard, Rag, showed up.
‘How on earth did he do it?’
Gugu narrowed his eyes, staring at Rag.
He was pretending to be unconscious, limbs limp, but his vitality was intact.
No, it was actually stronger than before.
Granted, he had joined hands with Abriel.
Granted, he had borrowed the power of her transformed holy sword form.
But even so, ‘annihilation’ was impossible.
A god is a near-immortal being.
While you can destroy their physical body, erasing their very source, their divinity, is a different matter entirely.
Yet Tulcacha had vanished without a trace.
As if someone had chewed him up and swallowed him.
‘The higher-ups must be quite furious.’
Gugu sighed.
But what could be done?
It was water under the bridge.
He could only hope that ‘their’ wrath would be directed at Rag, not himself.
More importantly.
Ding!
The system calculated the results.
An administrator is a slave to the system.
Regardless of personal feelings or political stances, he had to announce the results fairly.
Wheeeeee!
With a flash of light, the surviving seeds were summoned.
“Ugh…”
“I-I’m alive.”
Darakan and the other survivors.
They were crawling on the ground, covered in dirt.
They had been chased by spirits and were on the verge of death, barely managing to survive thanks to Rag’s explosion.
Gugu forcibly pulled up the corners of his mouth.
Beaming.
A professional smile.
“Alright, everyone, you’ve worked hard! The 3rd gate is now over!”
Clap clap clap.
He clapped his wings together to make a clapping sound.
The seeds stared blankly up at Gugu.
They seemed unable to read the mood.
“As promised, the contamination source of the sanctuary has been removed. Although the process was… quite spectacular.”
Gugu’s gaze momentarily lingered on Rag before moving away.
“The scoring criterion for this gate was ‘contribution.'”
Gulp.
The seeds swallowed nervously.
A flicker of hope.
Since they survived, wouldn’t they get some points?
But Gugu was cold-hearted.
He pointed to the holographic chart floating in the air.
“I will now announce the results.”
Gugu’s voice echoed dryly.
“1st place, Rag. 300 points.”
“……!”
The seeds’ mouths dropped open in shock.
300 points.
200 points had been astonishing enough, but now it was 300.
A number so high it was impossible to even guess the maximum score.
“And…”
Gugu scanned the rest of the list.
He barely managed to suppress a sigh that almost escaped.
“Darakan-nim, 2 points.”
“…Th-this is absurd! There’s clearly been some mistake for me to get only 2 points!”
