Chương 401: Dance with the Void
Things don't always go according to plan. It's a rule that governs life with infuriating consistency. I knew it well enough to account for contingencies, to prepare for failure—but still, a part of me always hoped that, just once, things might proceed without the universe throwing a wrench into the works.
But the universe, it seemed, was feeling particularly vindictive today.
While I waited for Cecilia to complete administering the potion to Maximus—a task critical to gathering the evidence I needed to dismantle the Tower of Alchemy properly—Luna's voice cut through my thoughts like a blade.
"Arthur…" Her tone was urgent, her words edged with an unnatural gravity. "Fate has been twisted. The Paladin will awaken. You need to stop him earlier!"
Earlier. The word slammed into me with the force of a blow. If she was right—and I had no reason to doubt her—a critical part of my preparations would be rendered useless. The potion, the thought condenser, the careful, methodical groundwork—it all became irrelevant in the face of an immediate threat.
I clenched my fists, frustration coiling in my chest. "Earlier?" I muttered under my breath, earning a sidelong glance from one of Cecilia's knights. My mind raced through alternatives. If the Paladin of Void awakened now, I wasn't ready. The thought of facing him, even in his weakened state, chilled me to the core.
The Paladin wasn't just powerful—he was beyond. Even at high Immortal-rank, he had fought Lucifer to a standstill when Lucifer wielded a Legendary-grade artifact. And now? The Paladin was at low Immortal-rank, but that hardly mattered. The gap between us wasn't something I could hope to bridge at my current level.
"I don't want to fight him," I said quietly, though the admission felt like a weakness.
But Luna's response was resolute. "You don't have a choice. Fate has already shifted. If you don't act now, everything crumbles."
My teeth ground together. "Then help me."
Cecilia arrived not long after, her expression steely but concerned as she entered my quarters. She took one look at me and seemed to understand. "What's happened?"
"The Paladin is waking," I said simply. "We don't have time to wait for the potion's effects. I have another plan, but it'll require… resources."
Her crimson eyes sharpened. "What do you need?"
"Mana. A lot of it," I said. "And I need your knights."
Without hesitation, Cecilia nodded and issued orders to the five Imperial Knights flanking her. They snapped into action with military precision, their discipline a stark contrast to the chaos brewing within the Tower.
With Luna's guidance, I quickly etched a rune array on the floor using beast blood, each stroke of my hand deliberate and precise. The array would allow me to channel the mana of Cecilia's knights into the Nirvana Flames. It wasn't perfect—it would be inefficient, wasteful even—but it was the only option left.
The knights stood in formation around the array, their mana flaring as I activated it. The runes glowed, feeding their energy into the white-hot flames that began to dance around me. The Nirvana Flames burned with a purity that was almost painful, their light cutting through the dim, mana-infused air of the Tower.
I gritted my teeth as the flames reached out, activating in the locations I had carefully planted them throughout the Tower's defensive network. The strength of the Tower's defenses was its interconnectedness, but that was also its greatest weakness. A single breach could unravel the entire system.
The flames roared through the network like a wildfire, burning away the defenses piece by piece. The Tower trembled faintly, a shudder that reverberated through its steel and stone.
"It's done," I said, my voice hoarse. I turned to Cecilia, who was already moving. "We need to reach floor 190. Now."
The journey was anything but smooth. The Tower was in turmoil, its staff scrambling to contain the cascading failures in the defense systems. Alarms blared, and mana lights flickered ominously as Cecilia, the knights, and I ascended through the levels.
We reached the stairwell leading to the 190th floor, but our progress was abruptly halted. A group of Tower Elders, their mana brimming with power and authority, stood in our path. At their head was Lucas Wrought, the Tower Master himself, his expression a mask of cold fury.
"This is madness," Lucas said, his voice cutting through the cacophony. "Princess Cecilia, whatever grievances you have with this Tower, you overstep your authority."
Cecilia didn't flinch. "The Tower of Alchemy has engaged in treasonous acts against the Empire. As its princess, I am well within my rights."
Lucas's gaze flicked to me, and his lips curled into a sneer. "This is your doing, isn't it, Arthur Nightingale? I should have known."
Before I could respond, Cecilia stepped forward, her crimson eyes blazing. "Move, or be moved."
The standoff stretched taut, and then Lucas's mana surged. The air around us grew heavy, oppressive. "You forget yourself, Your Highness," he said, his tone deadly. "This is my Tower."
The Imperial Knights stepped forward as one, drawing their weapons in unison. Nolan, their vice-captain, was the first to speak. "Protect the princess and Lord Nightingale. Engage!"
The knights launched into action, their mana flaring as they charged the Elders. The clash was immediate and explosive, the confined space of the stairwell amplifying the raw power on display.
Cecilia grabbed my arm, pulling me forward. "Go! They'll hold them off."
I hesitated, glancing back at the chaotic battle unfolding behind us. The knights were skilled—disciplined and unyielding in the face of the Tower's might. But they were outnumbered and facing opponents of immense power. Every second counted.
With a sharp nod, I followed Cecilia up the stairs, my mind racing. We were nearing the heart of the Tower, the place where the Paladin of Void awaited. If Luna was right—and she always was—we had precious little time before all hell broke loose.
The room was a symphony of chaos, the remnants of Maximus's body dissolving into the air like ash on a bitter wind. The Paladin of Void, wreathed in a shroud of dark mana, stood tall, its presence swallowing the space in an oppressive silence. Its blade—black as the void itself, edged with malice—hovered effortlessly, pointed directly at me.
My heart thundered in my chest.
This wasn't just an opponent. This was the Paladin of Void.
A legend made flesh. A monster born of death and despair. The strongest foe I had ever faced, eclipsing even the Immortal-rank cultist who had nearly ended me once before.
I wasn't the same as I had been then. I was stronger—much stronger. But as the Paladin turned its hollow, pitiless gaze toward me, I felt the weight of its power press against my soul. A tide rising, threatening to drown me before the first blow had even landed.
"Cecilia," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "Help me."
A part of me—instinct, pride, perhaps a desperate echo of my old self—wanted to protect her, to shield her from what was about to unfold. To carry this burden alone.
But I wasn't a fool. Not anymore. Not here. Not against this.
I felt her mana pulse behind me, steady and reassuring. It wasn't just mine to bear.
The researchers around us were frozen in terror, their bodies trembling as their mana faltered. They were nothing—flecks of dust in the presence of titans. They hadn't even scaled the Wall, let alone faced a force like this. They didn't matter now. Only survival did.
"Give me everything, Luna," I whispered, the words nearly lost in the tempest of mana swirling through the chamber.
And she did.
Lucent Harmony roared to life, light bursting through my veins like a nova. Mythic Body surged, muscles reinforced to their peak. Soul Vision and Seraphim's Embrace activated, the threads of reality stretching and bending into view. Astral Manifestation flared, the heavens themselves seeming to whisper at the edges of my awareness. Mythic Transplant thrummed, its power embedding into every fiber of my being. Eclipse Blade pulsed in my hand, its edge keening with unrelenting hunger. Mind's Aegis expanded, splitting my thoughts into a symphony of clarity.
Every sense sharpened. Every breath a controlled rhythm. My world narrowed to a single focus.
To kill the monster before me.
The Paladin of Void tilted its head, an almost curious gesture, before raising its shadow-forged sword. The blade seemed to hum, an unearthly sound that sent shivers down my spine.
Then it moved.
We blinked—no, we vanished—as the distance between us collapsed. Our swords clashed in an explosion of light and shadow, a shockwave tearing through the chamber and sending debris scattering like leaves in a storm.
The impact reverberated up my arms, tingling like the warning bells of an overloaded spell. Even with Mythic Body reinforcing me, the Paladin was physically stronger. It was like fighting against a mountain, every strike an avalanche bearing down.
But I wasn't here to match power for power. That wasn't my way.
We disengaged, our swords singing as they scraped apart. My feet slid back a fraction on the broken floor as I exhaled, centering myself.
The Spectral Sword art flowed through me like a second heartbeat. Its movements were precise, elegant, each stroke weaving a tapestry of strikes. But that wasn't enough. Not against him.
So I pushed further.
Grade 5 Art: Tempest Dance Technique.
My sword became a whirlwind, its edge tracing arcs of silver light as I unleashed the art. It wasn't just about speed or power—it was about overwhelming the Paladin with sheer unpredictability. Each strike came from a different angle, a storm of blades designed to tear apart even the most impenetrable defense.
The Paladin responded in kind, its shadowed blade moving with an eerie fluidity. Each swing of its sword seemed to anticipate mine, its defense as seamless as a river flowing around rocks. But I wasn't deterred. I wasn't fighting to break through with one strike. I was fighting to wear him down.
Behind me, Cecilia's presence was a beacon. Her mana surged in pulses, forming protective barriers and supporting spells that shielded us from the residual chaos. She was steady, unflinching, her resolve bolstering my own.
I could feel the threads of battle stretching thin, each moment a tightrope walk over the abyss. My consciousness splintered under Mind's Aegis, dividing into streams of thought. One focused on my surroundings, mapping every flicker of movement. Another tracked the Paladin's sword, analyzing its patterns. A third monitored Cecilia, ensuring her safety. The rest managed my own movements, spells, and breathing.
I felt alive in a way I rarely did—every fiber of my being honed to a singular purpose.
The Paladin of Void shifted, its movements growing faster, more aggressive. Its dark astral energy pulsed like a heartbeat, each wave radiating malice. It was trying to overwhelm me, to break my rhythm.
But I adapted. The threads of Soul Vision revealed its intent before it acted, each movement telegraphed in a language only I could see. My blade danced in response, a counterpoint to its every strike.
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