A. F. Kay
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Divine Apostasy Book 11 - Chapter 25
🕑 Added 2024-10-26 05:30:50 +0000 UTCChapter 25
The cold hit Ruin first. It sank into his bones the moment he stepped inside.
The air thickened. The darkness pressed against his skin like ink poured over his senses, muffling them. Sounds in the shadows—whispers, rustling—and the scent of aged stone mixed with ash. The surroundings shifted and stretched, the architecture bending as though reality itself could not decide how it should exist.
Ruin’s eyes adjusted to the dim light, and the darkness gave way to faint glimmers of light from stones embedded into the walls. Shadows moved without cause, flexing and contracting in strange, impossible angles. He glanced at an unaffected Zylkin, whose posture remained calm and assured.
The Shadowmancer gave him a slight nod, and Ruin returned it.
They entered the main hall, an expansive space that opened upwards, disappearing into the towering heights above. Staircases twisted along the walls, leading to places unseen, and passages—some massive, some ordinary, many with no doors—surrounded the edges of the chamber.
“Are those pocket dimensions?” Ruin whispered.
“No. Most lead into the caverns under the foundation. That’s where the tower keeps the creatures it uses for protection.”
Those had been the beasts Ruin had wiped out with his Minor Prelude of Stillness spell when battling Lalquinrial.
Zylkin moved toward one of the passages, and Ruin followed. They passed under a massive arch, and Ruin detected a subtle shift in the air as they crossed its threshold—like stepping through a veil. The corridor curved to the right under a low ceiling carved from black stone with silver veins that pulsed regularly, each surge resonating with his Dark Meridian.
“The first rune dungeon lies on the fifth level,” Zylkin said, his voice loud in the narrow passageway. “Reaching it requires us to use the central lift. It connects all levels of the Tower, and it will test you.”
“Test me how?”
Ruin kept his voice even but couldn’t shake the sensation of being watched and scrutinized by the ever-shifting shadows.
Zylkin didn’t answer immediately, his eyes flicking upward as if considering the unseen levels above. “The lift tests your right to proceed,” he finally said. “The energy here is drawn to doubt, to hesitation, and to weakness. If you allow it to take hold, the Tower will deny you.” He paused, then added, “It’s less a physical trial than a trial of will. You must prove to the Tower that you belong. It will assign you a maximum floor. Your goal is to qualify for thirteen floors. That will give you access to all eight of the rune dungeons. Your Reputation with the Tower will help and lower the bar for acceptance.”
“This tower sure does a lot of testing.”
“They all do. Here it’s because many enter from the other Towers to gain their Dark runes. As you witnessed during your fight with the Demon Lord, the Towers won’t hesitate to attack each other if provoked. The Towers seem to look for any excuse to deny outsiders their runes.”
“Is it rude to ask others their tower level?”
Zylkin shrugged. “Generally, yes, but I don’t mind telling you mine. To qualify for the Sentinel Class I needed a Floor Level of twenty. Which is rare to achieve. To become a Prime Warden a level of twenty-five was required. I’ve pushed myself to reach level twenty-seven, but the mental battle was exhausting, and I have no desire to climb higher. Now my mind is filled with doubt and guilt over my actions and only my pride allows me to retain my qualifications for Prime Warden.”
Ruin didn’t address Zylkin’s mental state. He knew from experience the solution to those issues needed to come from Zylkin himself.
“How high do the tower levels go?” Ruin asked.
Zylkin looked down and his body language turned hesitant.
“What?” Ruin asked.
Zylkin reluctantly looked up. “I’ll tell you what I know, but please don’t take offense, Exalted One, my grandmother is old, and her stories are full of lies and half-truths.”
That Zylkin had returned to using the honorific of Ruin’s Class meant Zylkin’s grandmother’s information must not reflect well on Ruin somehow.
“Saraphs are a noble race, and the Val’dor are a revered family. Your predecessor manifested the five towers here, a tribute to the power of her blood. Shadowmancers are a lower race and not privy to the secret knowledge of the noble races, which is why I’m forced to use my grandmother’s ravings as my only source of knowledge.”
“Enough hedging, Zylkin, just tell me.”
“Grandmother’s stories state the Towers each have a hundred levels, although no one has summoned a tower of such height since the eight noble families pushed back the void and revealed the original towers. If one of the descendants from these eight families is strong enough, they can summon towers equal to their tower level. This is where I beg your understanding. My grandmother believes our tower barely reaches forty levels, which makes the noble lady Deryssa Val’dor weak compared to the towers my grandma witnessed as a girl—towers that rose over fifty-levels.”
Ruin didn’t feel insulted. What did he care about Deryssa Val’dor’s strength. He didn’t identify with this body or being a Saraph—a mistake he would soon fix. Besides, from what he understood, this universe was purposefully placed a vast distance from the rest of the Outerverse to keep it safe. That likely increased the difficulty of manifesting the towers.
“Is there anything valuable on the higher levels?” Ruin asked.
“Nobody knows. Of course Grandma claims those upper levels hold ancient dungeons or the ruins of past civilizations. Even the eight noble families supposedly don’t understand the mystery of the towers.”
“That’s interesting,” Ruin said, “and I appreciate the information. Your grandma sounds like a fun person to talk with. Okay, my goal is level thirteen so I can get my eight runes.”
Zylkin gave Ruin a nod of encouragement.
Ruin had faced trials before. This latest one had literally forged him anew. What hadn’t changed was his determination to move forward. If this Tower wanted to test his Will, he welcomed it.
They emerged into a larger chamber at the corridor’s end, the central lift waiting before them. Ruin had expected something mechanical, powered by air or weights. Instead of a platform or a physical structure, the lift was an empty, circular area, surrounded by silver runes. The glowing glyphs held the swirling shadows away.
Zylkin stepped onto the rune-covered portion that marked the boundary to the lift. The symbols on the floor flared for a moment before returning to their subdued silver glow.
“One moment,” Zylkin said, raising a gauntleted hand at Ruin. “I’ve been thinking about what happened when you entered the tower. Something similar might occur here, as this is your first time using the lift. Usually, the test of Will is cursory, but this first time, it might test your limits. I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to think you’re failing which might allow doubt to take root in your mind.”
“Thank you, Zylkin,” Ruin said, and then stepped confidently forward.
The shadows pulled away from Ruin revealing the black stone of the floor. In three steps he reached the complicated runes surrounding the lift.
Silver glyphs flared beneath Ruin’s boots, creating a bright light that enveloped him.
The chill deepened, biting into Ruin’s skin. He felt a pull—a tugging at his essence, as if something wanted to jerk him out of his body. He closed his eyes, focusing inward.
The yanking sensation came from his Dark Meridian, as if it wanted to pull him completely into itself. His physical connection to the Destruction Realm, which seemed anchored by the Shadow Core in his center, resisted this pull, but without help his Dark Meridian would swallow him in just moments.
Ruin exerted his Will, providing a stable foundation to support his Shadow Core. The energy of the Tower pulled against him, a strain that whispered of his failures, of his weaknesses. It reminded him of the forest in the Bamboo Viper Journeyman Trial. The place that had trapped Echo. That forest had weighed him down with doubt and almost paralyzed him, but he’d grown since then.
With steady breaths, Ruin stilled his thoughts and focused on the power his Dark Meridian exuded. As the strength of the attack increased, he resisted with an equal amount of his Will. He belonged here. He had survived against all odds, becoming part of the Destruction Realm. He had claimed the Destruction Emperor Class, and he would not be denied.
When the Dark Tower tapped the other four Towers for additional power, it pulled Ruin to his knees, and he heard Zylkin gasp in alarm. Ruin stood, pouring more of his Willpower into the fight of supremacy, now against all five towers. When he successfully countered their attempt to rip him from his own body, he laughed, mocking their attempt.
The pull against Ruin paused, almost as if the Towers had become confused or unsure. He sensed the Towers’ connection to the void under the Destruction Realm and the network of roots that, even at this great distance, connected to the other Towers, presumably in the real Destruction Realm.
Through those roots a tidal wave of power flowed, and the silver glyphs under Ruin burned so brightly the air burned.
Zylkin refused to move. He’d pulled his weapon and placed an arm over the slit of his helmet to save his vision.
Ruin pushed Zylkin into the lift and the Prime Warden disappeared.
Overlord and Uruziel appeared in Ruin’s vision, as he matched the incoming surge of power from the foreign towers.
What’s going on? Overlord asked.
I’m in the Dark Tower and it was supposed to test my Will. Then it cheated by adding the other four Towers. When it couldn’t overcome me, it linked to Towers farther away.
Farther like the Outerverse farther? Uruziel asked.
That’s what I’m guessing, Ruin responded.
Sivart appeared next to Overlord and spoke to him. The connection is stable and dense enough to traverse.
Overlord and Sivart moved from Ruin’s peripheral vision to stand in front of him. He’d closed his eyes against the scorching light but that didn’t matter to the mental projections.
I request permission to scout this connection, Sivart stated.
Comments
Samuel Strode
He is an emperor class he might be subjugating all of the towers
