NOVEL ONLINE FREE Chapter 172
Translator: FenrirTL
Editor: Doodle
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< Chapter 172: Roots (2) >
“Hmm, it seems Ragnar has encountered a rather exceptional Chosen One after quite some time. Don’t you all think so?”
Keratosuchus stroked his chin with interest as he gazed at the large screen floating before him.
The screen displayed Theo rapidly ascending the White Tower.
It was as if he knew exactly what each floor's mission entailed.
“No matter how much he came from the future, this is undeniably impressive.”
[The God of ■■ suggested that Theo’s abilities are not merely commendable but exceptional, even among the greatest Chosen Ones in history.]
[■■■ ■ pondered earnestly, considering that Theo might be worthy of being evaluated for the position of Apostle.]
[The God of Harmony ■■■■ ■■■■■■ ■ ■ ■■■■.]
.
.
The gods observing the White Tower were reacting explosively.
Some were so impressed that they were already itching to propose the Apostle position to Theo.
An Apostle was, after all, a kind of incarnation created by gods bound in the prison of causality to influence the mortal world.
Since they carved out a part of their own soul and body to create Apostles, these incarnations could manifest a portion of the god’s authority.
Thus, throughout history, Apostles had always left significant marks, whether positively or negatively, in historical records.
Gods paid close attention to Apostle selection, as it directly impacted their reputation and the expansion of their faith.
Yet now, most of the gods seemed deeply enamored with Theo.
[The God of Causality ■■ cautiously speculated whether this might finally be the moment when the secrets of the closed world could be revealed.]
Keratosuchus’s expression hardened at the sudden message.
“Perhaps the God of Causality should choose words with more care. Even if this is the first time in a long while that a promising Chosen One has appeared, hasty speculation and high expectations might only lead to deeper disappointment.”
[The God of Causality appeared crestfallen, their tail drooping powerlessly as tears welled up in their eyes.]
Sigh!
Keratosuchus let out a deep sigh.
Every time the gods displayed such unseemly behavior, he felt a growing sense of disillusionment with his profession.
Crybabies were standard, followed by chatterboxes, self-righteous nags, and even madmen obsessed with explosions. Dealing with this myriad of dysfunctional personalities had long worn him out.
‘I need to find a suitable candidate to close the Mysteries and be done with this.’
It was then.
Pop!
Suddenly, a small screen appeared beside the one showing Theo.
A warning message alerted Keratosuchus to the presence of an unauthorized intruder.
“Hmm.”
He instinctively prepared to issue an expulsion order but paused, momentarily lost in thought.
Upon closer inspection, the intruder turned out to be another Ragnar.
The figure appeared to have come out of jealousy toward Theo.
[The God of ■■ asked the Keeper what they were thinking.]
“Oh, I was just reflecting on the House of Ragnar’s family rules. Don’t they have a tendency to never obstruct challengers? I wondered if it would be appropriate for us to block the intruder’s approach.”
[The God of ■■ commented on the mention of family rules, saying the Keeper’s smile seemed particularly devious.]
“Ahem! That’s a misunderstanding, just a misunderstanding.”
[The God of ■■ replied that it seemed more like a deliberate trick than a misunderstanding.]
[Other gods in the Pantheon strongly agreed with the God of ■■’s opinion.]
“In any case, this seems like a good opportunity to further assess the Chosen One’s resolve and skill. Let’s leave the intruder be for now. If it becomes an issue, we can always expel them later.”
[Based on the Keeper’s suggestion, the gods in the Pantheon began a vote.]
[Votes in favor: 156, votes against: 21]
[The majority vote favored the Keeper’s proposal.]
“Then let’s see how this plays out, shall we?”
A sly grin spread across Keratosuchus’s lips.
*********************
‘What the hell is going on here?’
Kishar had been brimming with confidence when he first set foot in the White Tower.
After all, how difficult could a place conquered by a mere child possibly be?
But that notion shattered the moment he reached the second floor.
“Four swords at once?”
Initially, he had thought Theo had failed, as the body on the floor looked identical to him. However, the hair and eye colors were different, quickly revealing it as a fake.
The problem lay in the traces of battle all around.
Considering the floor had been conquered in a mere forty seconds, the intensity of the battle was baffling.
The destroyed surroundings and deep sword marks on the walls were undeniable proof of a fierce fight.
“They said he was at least at the level of an Advanced Swordsman. I thought that was just a rumor… Hmph! Still, he’s barely holding to the basics, isn’t he?”
Thinking Theo wasn’t at a level to pose any real threat to him, Kishar scoffed and dismissed him.
But when he reached the third floor—
‘...He might not be beneath me.’
For the first time, Kishar broke out in a cold sweat.
It wasn’t just Theo’s skill with the greatsword that startled him but also the level of control he demonstrated in wielding swords through telekinesis.
It felt as if four versions of Theo were working together seamlessly to attack in perfect harmony.
Especially the traces of cutting down multiple enemies with a single strike were sharp enough to send chills down his spine.
The tension grew heavier with each step up to the next level.
The fourth floor resembled an ordinary mansion.
It had a courtyard, and there were quite a few people passing by who seemed to be merchants.
However, the mansion appeared to have been ambushed. It was engulfed in flames, leaving only its ghastly skeletal frame exposed, and dead bodies littered the area, slain by swords or arrows.
The attackers had concealed their identities with masks, but every single one of them wore expressions frozen in shock, their hearts pierced cleanly.
It was the mark of the Flying Blade Technique.
“Did he come to rescue the mansion under attack? But the methods he used are merciless, as if he’s dealing with sworn enemies…”
Kishar now cautiously followed Theo’s trail.
What puzzled him this time was the stark contrast from Theo’s previous movements. While his actions so far had been marked by efficiency, this trail bore traces of needless brutality.
It was as if Theo had been overwhelmed by excessive emotion.
“Who were these people to him?”
One thing Kishar had noticed during his ascent of the White Tower was that each floor’s mission seemed to be closely tied to Theo.
That meant this particular event could be connected to Theo’s traumas…
Kishar began pulling off the masks of the corpses or rummaging through their clothes, searching for clues about their identities.
Thanks to this, he discovered a common feature.
“These are Ragnar people, aren’t they? And not just anyone—they’re from the Central Intelligence Bureau…”
Could this be related to a clash between Theo and Ed?
But according to Kishar’s knowledge, Theo had never left Winterer until he was fifteen years old. There shouldn’t have been any time for him to experience such a traumatic event.
‘Something feels off, as if the pieces don’t quite fit.’
Kishar found additional clues at the mansion’s outskirts.
It appeared to be the main base of the attackers, where Theo had clashed with them.
Dead warhorses littered the area.
Although it seemed the attackers had tried to disguise their origin, as the horses were clad in differently styled iron armor, Kishar quickly recognized the breed.
“These are dragonhorses, a breed specifically managed by Ragnar.”
And there was only one group that utilized dragonhorses.
“Leaving aside the Central Intelligence Bureau, why would the Black Iron Cavalry attack this mansion…?”
The mysteries only deepened.
****************************
As Kishar climbed the fifth and sixth floors, which felt like stepping into a dream, he had to face a fact he didn’t want to admit.
“He’s already on par with the Dragon Gate Swordsmen. He doesn’t falter at all.”
He couldn’t bring himself to say it aloud, but Theo might already be beyond him.
However, what truly terrified Kishar wasn’t just that realization.
“He keeps getting stronger. Endlessly. How can someone grow so much in such a short time?”
Kishar, unaware that Theo possessed the secret weapon of the Chronograph of the Sorceress Empress, couldn’t help but have such thoughts.
Every time Theo ascended a floor, he maximized the acceleration of his conscious time, reflecting on the battles of the previous floors and deepening his research on the current floor’s strategies.
The inspiration given by the Sword Sphere only grew more intense with each floor.
Even Kishar could now see it—Theo’s madness was becoming increasingly vivid.
Indeed, it had transcended mere desire and could only be described as madness.
A madness to grow stronger.
“I have to kill him. No matter what.”
Thus, Kishar resolved to change his approach.
Initially, he intended only to humble Theo and make him aware of his limits.
But now, he felt compelled to crush this budding rival, someone who might even surpass Torkel in the future.
Fortunately, from the signs left behind, it seemed Theo was also growing physically exhausted.
Schring!
The blade of a jagged Katchidoga, covered with sharp edges on one side, emerged from its scabbard.
Kishar carefully ascended the stairs to the next floor, ensuring his presence wasn’t detected.
He moved with the utmost caution.
But his determination was shattered the moment he reached the eighth floor.
“What… what is this place…?”
The eighth floor was unlike anything he had seen before.
Towering gray concrete buildings formed a forest of skyscrapers, creating a colossal skyline.
It resembled a futuristic city, surpassing even the grandeur of the Imperial Capital, the most prosperous city in the Empire.
Neon signs and billboards, flashing with phrases Kishar couldn’t comprehend, lit up every corner of the city.
Though Kishar had enjoyed all kinds of opulence and luxury, for the first time, he felt overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the city. It was as if the weight of its presence was pressing on his soul.
The streets were bustling with people.
Clad in simple suits, they hurried by, holding strange bags in one hand.
Though Kishar, armed as he was, stood out, they merely glanced at him like he was some eccentric and went about their business without much concern.
On the well-paved roads, strange mechanical contraptions clad in iron carried people around.
Bridges between the buildings held trains that moved silently without emitting steam, darting toward unknown destinations.
The air was stifling, so much so that it was difficult to breathe.
What troubled Kishar even more was the complete absence of mana in the atmosphere.
“Is the mission to drop us into an entirely foreign world and forbid the reckless use of magic? But what connection does this place have with Theo…?”
Gray.
If one were to describe this city in a single color, that would be it.
The previous floors, while seeming temporally disjointed, still felt familiar. In contrast, the eighth floor gave the impression of being in a completely different world.
How was he supposed to find any trace of Theo here?
For the first time, Kishar found himself utterly lost.
****************************
At that moment, Theo was already entering the tenth floor.
‘It makes sense for past lives to appear if the goal is to trigger trauma, but to think even Seoul would emerge…’
The events on the eighth floor still lingered vividly in his mind as if they had happened moments ago.
In truth, Theo had little memory of Earth.
All he remembered was that his name had been "Yoo Taeo." He had no recollection of his family, profession, or any significant details.
He had merely assumed from scattered fragments of memory that he had lived a miserable life.
And yet, here he was, confronted by a part of those memories.
The mission had been brutally simple:
-“Find and kill your original ‘self.’”
In a megacity with a population of ten million, finding himself without any clues seemed impossible.
But by continuously activating the Chronograph and pursuing the few scattered memories he did have, Theo eventually found himself in a place called "Pangyo," south of Seoul.
There, he saw himself.
A young man with sunken, weary eyes, sitting before a machine called a computer, a cigarette dangling from his lips.
Theo couldn’t tell what he was doing, but he appeared deeply serious.
“I have to finish it… Finish it…”
Even after killing this version of "Yoo Taeo," who seemed desperate for something, Theo couldn’t leave the scene for a long time.
He stared at the blinking cursor on the monitor, waiting for the next command, until Lodbrok’s impatient reminder to move before the All Buff ran out finally spurred him to ascend to the ninth floor.
999
It was then that messages began to flash before his eyes.
[You have completed the hidden condition.]
[Access to restricted Level 1 information has been granted.]
[The filtering system has been disabled.]
[You are currently running the 132nd beta service.]
[A new patch has begun.]
[1%, 2%, 3%... 16%, 17%... 69%, 79%...]
Many of the messages remained incomprehensible, but something about them felt disturbingly familiar.
Theo suddenly realized they bore an uncanny resemblance to the screen he had just seen on the monitor before the now-deceased "Yoo Taeo."
[The God of Causality gazes at you with bright, curious eyes.]