Tower of Paradise

KATHYIN GRAMONT'S POV

Blood splattered across my face as I charged into the endless waves of undead surrounding me. I felt the rage burning in my bloodshot eyes. I roared with all the power of my lungs and ripped through the circle of rotting creatures like a beast freed from its chains.

I couldn't afford to show weakness. Never. My sister would have wiped them out in seconds, without breaking a sweat. I had to push myself twice as hard, three times as hard, to prove that my courage was no less.

A barrage of attacks flew at me from all directions: rusted swords and poisoned arrows, rotting claws seeking to tear my flesh, and corrosive acids threatening to dissolve my body. There were also brutal blows that, if they connected, could shatter my bones into a thousand pieces. They were everywhere, like a storm of death aimed solely at me. I clenched my jaw. I wouldn't die here, not like this.

Just as all those attacks aimed exclusively at me were about to reach me, I gripped the hilt of my sword tightly in my hands. I violently twisted my waist to rotate my body and began to swing my sword, which glowed with an intense sapphire radiance, as if it were a windmill in the middle of hell.

A furious blizzard of ice roared around me. Accompanied by piercing crystals, my sword cut through enemy weapons and deflected the arrows aimed at my heart. Even before the rotting claws could graze my skin, I severed entire arms that flew through the air while the corrosive acids dispersed like harmless jets of water. The undead who had tried to reach me fell in two at the waist before collapsing at my feet.

The cold emanated from me in growing waves. I had honed my physical abilities to the limit of human capability. Every muscle in my body was tempered by relentless training, by the need to compensate for what everyone considered a deficiency.

However, the upper body of the undead hadn't even touched the ground when a new wave of attacks, twice as fierce as the previous ones, pounced on me.

What surprised me most wasn't the intensity of the attacks, but realizing that I was counterattacking with the same ferocity. I had only thrown one blow, but a dozen ice lances suddenly emerged from my weapon and crashed into the space in front of me. The roar was deafening as a huge hole opened up in the middle of the enemy ranks.

I smiled, albeit a bitter smile. Would you see me now, sister? Would you still think I'm weak?

Finally, I could see clearly. I had managed to break through that wall of rotting flesh. My attacks had been extremely violent, almost suicidal, but I was reacting with a calmness I didn't know I possessed.

After wiping the black blood from my sword with a quick movement, I began to run around massacring my enemies. The undead counterattacked tenaciously, but every time my sword danced in the air, at least one of them fell to the ground lifeless. As dozens of skeletal soldiers and zombies succumbed minute after minute, the sad screams and howls that filled the battlefield gradually faded.

The incessant rain washed the blood from my face, but it couldn't cleanse the hatred I felt inside.

Just as the shattered corpses formed mountains around me and their blood stained the ground a deep crimson, I realized I was standing alone in that area sown with death and destruction. A strange feeling of emptiness invaded me.

—I'm tired...

I threw my head back as I let out the breath I had been holding for what seemed like an eternity.

I gasped and coughed dryly. I felt my whole body heavy, as if each of my muscles were carved from stone. The metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth, though I didn't know if it was mine or my enemies'.

With a final effort, I struck the last undead with my sword, who was struggling to get up. I watched as his life—or what was left of it—slowly faded as he fought uselessly against the inevitable. In a way, I saw myself reflected in him: fighting against a destiny that others had decided for me, resisting accepting the limitations imposed.

I looked up into the distance. The battle between Arceus and the Guardian of Corpses continued with a ferocity I rarely saw. They had razed several houses in the village and the terrain, already slippery due to the incessant rain, was riddled with multiple potholes and holes, leaving a desolate landscape in their wake.

Arceus was strong. He wasn't like the others, he didn't judge me for what I couldn't do, but valued what I was capable of achieving. A part of me—that part I never admitted to anyone, not even to myself—longed for that acceptance, that recognition that my family had denied me.

I watched the fight intently, feeling my heart sink to my throat when I saw Arceus fall helplessly to the ground. Even he, had been defeated by the Boss monster. I realized that if I didn't do something quickly, Arceus would die right there, before my eyes. I couldn't keep thinking. My body moved instinctively. Fear gripped my chest, but I ignored it. I wouldn't bow to it anymore.

My sword was enveloped in an intense blue light. The gleaming silver blade moved as it searched for the correct position, and a storm of icy air whipped the surrounding area. This was a technique I had created myself by infusing and increasing the power of my sword with my ice attribute. Endless hours of training, days of pain and frustration, all culminating in this technique that was uniquely mine.

When I reached the correct position, every movement of my sword froze the air around me. I focused on the Guardian, moved my sword to the right, slid my left leg back while supporting my body on the right, as if I were about to start a race.

My sword pulsed repeatedly as I charged the necessary energy. The reason I hadn't used this technique yet was because it required a charging time. Plus, I knew it would leave me vulnerable, exhausted.

My desire to surpass myself, to prove that I was worth more than my older sister—that desire fueled by the talent everyone denied I possessed—had allowed me to understand this new ability.

While its destructive level was amazing, the energy cost was equal. At my current level, I could only perform it twice before becoming completely exhausted. And after that long battle against the undead, I barely had enough energy for a single attack. The sword crystallized in my hands; I positioned my body and swung it with all my might in a horizontal cut.

[Ice Lance Explosion (A)]

A rain of ice needles, so sharp they seemed capable of piercing the sky itself, shot towards the Guardian. The incredible blast forcefully pierced his back and pierced his stomach, the lances piled on top of each other forming a macabre sculpture of crystal and flesh.

Fortunately, Arceus was lying on the ground, so no ice shards reached his body. The last thing I wanted was to hurt him with my own hands. I had already suffered enough losses in my life to add Arceus to that list.

I felt my legs give way under my weight. My body collapsed and I fell to my knees like a sharp sword that had lost its edge. I lacked the energy to even move. I had truly given everything I had this time, beyond my limits. Pain coursed through every fiber of my being, but there was a sense of satisfaction in it.

[You have killed a monster of the second evolution, the Guardian of Corpses (E+)]

[The undead have been exterminated.]

[You have perfectly passed the Fifth Floor test.]

[You have obtained the highest contribution: 60%]

[Your achievement will be ranked.]

[You are in third place.]

[You have obtained 300 Soul Fragments.]

[You have obtained an item: Eternal Chain (S)]