Divine Apostasy Book 11 - Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Are you nuts? Ruin asked.

Yes, he is, Uruziel said, stepping into view as well.

Sivart spoke calmly. Our opportunities to gather intelligence on the Outerverse are rare and none are firsthand. This is a chance to see what is powering these towers without you risking yourself.

It’s too dangerous, Ruin replied. These towers are obviously connected by a higher dimension—probably the twelfth. You might not survive entering that.

That’s a possible outcome, but we might never get a chance like this again. Whether these are friends or foes, it’s in our best interest to learn as much as possible about them. Especially in a fashion that doesn’t pose a risk to you.

No way. I’m not going to gamble with your life. I don’t care about information. Not at this cost.

Sivart stepped closer. That is the point. I’m tired of being helpless. This time in the Destruction Realm has locked us away. I feel useless and wish to act.

You three saved my life by fishing my consciousness from that ocean of darkness.

Only because we failed to help you in the fight against Lalquinrial.

But you might die.

Yes.

Ruin pressed his lips together and shook his head.

Sivart either sensed the motion or understood Ruin’s reaction because he spoke softly. In truth, Holy Father, the decision is not yours. You granted us free will, and I wish to use it.

Ruin gritted his teeth.

The distant Towers ramped up the intensity of their battle with Ruin’s Will. It felt like the distant connections consolidated, as if all the many branches led to the same source.

Overlord? Ruin asked.

Let him go, Overlord responded immediately.

Uruziel?

The goddess didn’t respond immediately. Finally, she sighed and spoke. I disagree with the need but agree with his right to act like an idiot.

Ruin nodded at Sivart. Don’t die. I’ll resurrect you myself just so I can kill you again for being stupid.

Sivart bowed and then disappeared.

Ruin immediately felt Sivart rush down the connection.

Can you hear me, Sivart?

I can.

A tiny amount of relief soothed Ruin’s ache at risking his friend. He didn’t reach out again, not wanting to disturb or distract Sivart as he traveled this unknown path. In reality, Sivart had already provided useful information by confirming this connection was safe to travel.

The Harbinger quest Ruin had received when he’d transitioned from Peak Diamond to Angel had warned him against using any dimension higher than six. Tarot had said this was done to keep Ruin trapped and limit his mobility until the Outerverse Spire could send its representative.

This connection to the other Towers was certainly higher than the sixth dimension as Sivart had nearly reached the foreign Towers. Ruin found himself in so much danger now from the Outerverse he cared little about the threat from the Spire. And technically, the person with that dimensional restriction was Ruwen Starfield, not Ruin Val’dor.

Now that Sivart had tested the connection, Ruin pushed his Will outward and down the link instead of simply resisting. He stabilized the band of energy that traveled an unknowable distance to reach him. He caught up with Sivart but didn’t overtake the man, content that he could at least help a little if Sivart ran into trouble.

Sivart quickly navigated the many branches as he approached the location that Ruin identified as the primary source of energy pushing against his mind.

Sivart slowed and stopped.

Ruin advanced his Will until it stopped just short of Sivart’s position. The pressure from the distant Towers swelled, so Ruin wrapped Sivart in a bubble of Will to protect him but refrained from sending himself down the channel.

The constant pressure increased, and pain blossomed in Ruin’s temples.

Sivart still hadn’t indicated why he’d stopped, and Ruin worked to remain calm.

Instead of speaking, Sivart transferred what he’d found directly to Ruin.

Ruin gasped in shock. His gaze swept across the endless expanse below. The monochromatic landscape extended until it melded with the horizon. Five towers pierced the sky, each one a colossal monument. They radiated an ancient primal majesty; their sheer immensity challenged his understanding of what was possible.

At the base of each tower stood gigantic churches, their vaulted arches swallowing what little light filtered through the ashen expanse above. The towers’ epic nature demanded reverence and Ruin understood now why Sivart hadn’t spoken.

Around these monoliths lay the incomprehensible sprawl of a city. Countless lights flickered like embers of an incinerated forest. In the center of the five towers, a vast palace sat surrounded by gardens, parks, and lakes. Scattered along the Towers’ perimeter, other palaces broke up the endless city, but none of them matched the splendor of the central structure.

Another surge of energy shifted Ruin’s attention to the bands of silver power erupting from the tip of each tower. The five streams converged into a river of brilliance that warped the air, and clouds roiled in the angry atmosphere.

Jagged shadows exploded from the central palace, billowing upward for thousands of feet. The towering darkness, to Ruin’s horror, took the form of a man, black lightning forming a crown over his head. The figure rushed at Sivart, but the concentrated power from the Towers arced to anything that approached, slowing and then stopping the shadow titan.

It’s time to go, Ruin told Sivart, pulling him backward.

At least, Ruin tried to retrieve Sivart, but the Towers hummed, and Ruin’s body dropped to its knees as the energy attacking him condensed, doubling in power with every beat of his heart.

The intense pressure tried to break Ruin’s mental defenses—attempted to overcome his Will.

Every second threatened to destroy Ruin’s Will, to make him submit.

In the Dark Tower, Ruin pushed himself to his feet and growled.

All the Towers ever manifested connected to these five original ones. The web of their roots lay bare before him, spreading across the bottom of the Destruction Realm, supporting it. And like a wayward sprout, far away from that dense network, stood the towers of his tiny Destruction Realm.

And between these two Destruction Realms an ocean of condensed Willpower rushed like a tidal wave. It attempted to drown Ruin—suppress him—rule him.

Ruin hadn’t wanted to reveal himself or his true power. He’d only wanted to take the lift to level five and fight a dungeon boss for a rune.

But the five ancient towers fought Ruin and trapped Sivart, turning the thread-like roots connecting the two sets of towers into a bridge so wide an army could cross.

Again and again the pressure increased, and Ruin’s Mental Energy dropped.

Ruin knew on multiple occasions his emotions, especially his destructive tendencies, seemed amplified in this Saraph body, and his simmering anger at this situation became hard to control as the mental pressure increased.

If Ruin’s Mental Energy ran out before he pulled Sivart back to safety, his friend would die. Ruin might die himself if he allowed the foreign Towers to keep escalating their attacks. Retrieving Sivart and severing this connection was the smartest thing to do.

Ruin released the dam he’d constructed to contain his anger, and rushed down the river of power, reaching Sivart in an instant. Ruin easily broke the enemy Towers’ hold on Sivart and the man retreated.

Instead of following Sivart, Ruin glared at the offending Towers and Shadow Emperor. This situation had escalated far beyond a simple test of Wills. Something else had triggered and the torrent of power pouring from these Towers proved it.

Ruin wanted to teach these Towers and the Shadow Emperor a lesson. To show them his full Will and make them yield. How dare they try to subjugate him. His thoughts continued to cycle on this and in moments rage consumed him.

With a primal scream, a match for the shrieking Emperor trying to climb into the sky, Ruin slammed his Will outward like a fist.

The attack struck all five towers, and the colossal structures shuddered.

For a sliver of an instant the Towers’ flow of power faltered, and Ruin assaulted them again.

Ruin exerted all the Will he possessed. He wrapped the river of power flowing from the Towers around a mental arm and snapped it like a rope.

The Towers quaked causing debris to rain down on the city below.

Ruin seethed, and a blinding fury drove him into action. These five chunks of worthless rock had challenged him—tried to conquer him.

Ruin took control of the dazzling energy around him and formed his own towering form. He spread his four wings, unfolding them until they stretched thousands of feet.

Like a blazing sun Ruin hovered in the sky. He radiated blinding power, and the city below lit up from horizon to horizon.

The Emperor bellowed a challenge and streams of barbed shadows raced toward Ruin.

Ruin sneered at the Emperor and yanked violently on the stream of energy flowing from the Towers, snapping it off. Flexing his Will he shaped the power into a whip, which he flicked at the oncoming attack.

The spears of shadow vaporized when the silver whip neared them, and Ruin screamed at the Emperor preparing to dive downward and destroy him.

It’s time to leave, Overlord said from beside Ruin. If you don’t, both of us will be stranded here.

Ruin had no care for his own safety, lost as he was in the primal urge to dominate his foe. The thought of killing Overlord, though, cleared his head.

Ruin locked eyes with the towering shadow below, the true Emperor of the Destruction Realm.

“Follow and die,” Ruin said simply, his voice echoing like thunder.

The Towers had reassembled their stream, and Ruin slammed a fist hundreds of feet across against it, scattering it into the sky where it streaked downward like meteors. Then in another fit of rage, he pushed his Will down and into each of the Towers, intending to stop the attack at the source.

Ruin filled each Tower with his Will, forcing them to submit.

The surface of each Tower glowed. Long dormant runes flared to life.

In this Realm of black, white, and grey, the glyphs shone a piercing blue, the exact color of Ruin’s eyes.

With a final glare at the shocked Emperor, Ruin snapped his wings and let his energy dense form explode, filling the sky with burning stars.

Ruin found the fading connection to home and latched on to it.

Before Ruin could leave, an oppressive presence—no, he realized, five of them, materialized.

Ruin felt a mixture of emotions coming from the five: curiosity, confusion, resignation, and others he didn’t recognize.

A fusion of voices boomed in Ruin’s mind, and he nearly blacked out from the volume and power. He recognized the words, however. It was a question.

Is it time?

Ruin remained frozen, not in terror, not in reverence, but some combination of the two that his Saraph body responded to at a primal level. He could feel the blood in his body back home vibrating with the words.

For an instant, Ruin felt smothered. Power greater than anything he’d imagined brushed him, and it took all his remaining Willpower to keep his psyche from crumbling. In that moment, he was completely exposed.

No, not yet, the voices murmured. Then they disappeared, like monolithic creatures sliding back into the ocean.

Ruin shook himself and glanced a final time at the city. The five towers shone brightly with blue runes that covered their surface. The Emperor had collapsed when the five voices had appeared, and the city burned with thousands of fires caused by his exploding body.

With the last points of Mental Energy, Ruin entered the connection to home. Instead of just following it back, he absorbed the Willpower as he went, destroying the path, and making the route home impossible to follow.

Ruin opened his eyes to find himself on his hands and knees. Zylkin knelt next to him, supporting him and keeping him from collapsing. His head throbbed and blood dripped from his ears and nose.

Are you here, Sivart? Ruin asked.

Yes.

Ruin slumped in relief and a single word filled his thoughts. “Ouch,” he mumbled.

“What happened?” Zylkin asked. “I don’t understand why the Tower is acting so strangely. Even the runes changed color, and the tower shook so violently I thought we’d die here.”

Ruin’s eyes hovered only inches from the ground, and he confirmed Zylkin statement. The runes that had covered the floor and surrounded the lift had turned from silver to blue. The same blue the ancient Towers now glowed. The same blue as his eyes.

A Notification appeared and Ruin decided Zylkin’s grandma needed to update her stories.

Tower Level Access

Dark: 1,000

Fire: 1,000

Chaos: 1,000

Air: 1,000

Death: 1,000

“I hope you gained level thirteen,” Zylkin said. “Whatever happened seemed painful.”

Ruin raised his head enough to see Zylkin and grinned. “You should see the other guy.”