The roar of the ocean was a distant whisper as I stepped deeper into the tower, my boots striking against cold stone.
The prisoners were free. That part of the mission was done.
But I wasn't finished.
Every exit was sealed. No way out. No second chances.
A perfect cage.
The ones still inside—the slavers, the tormentors, the filth—would never see daylight again.
A static-laced voice crackled through a lacrima-powered speaker embedded in the wall.
"You think you've won?" the man sneered, his bravado laced with desperation. "You're alone! There are dozens of us left! You're just one man against a fortress—"
Ivory barked, the shot tearing through metal and crystal. The speaker exploded in a shower of sparks.
Silence.
I exhaled, rolling my shoulders.
"They always talk too much."
A scent filled the air—fear, sweat, blood. The stench of men who knew their end was near.
Bootsteps pounded down the corridor. A slaver lunged from the corner ahead, eyes wide with panic, his curved sword slicing toward my head.
Pathetic.
I moved before he could register it, sidestepping effortlessly. My hand snapped up, fingers locking around his wrist.
A twist. A crunch. A scream.
His weapon clattered uselessly to the ground.
I met his eyes, watching as realization dawned.
"I'm not locked in here with you."
My grip tightened. His scream became a gurgled whimper.
"You're locked in here with me."
Then, with one swift motion, I ended it.
His scream was cut short when I jammed Ebony under his chin and pulled the trigger. His body collapsed, blood pooling at my feet.
And kept walking.
One down.
I barely had time to register his death before more footsteps thundered from deeper in the tower.
Good.
I strode forward, meeting them head-on.
The corridor exploded with gunfire as I pulled both Ivory and Ebony, twin flashes of muzzle fire illuminating the dimly lit halls.
Three slavers collapsed mid-charge, holes punched clean through their skulls.
A fourth dove behind a crate, fumbling to charge a Magic Cannon.
I flicked my wrist.
Chastiefol: Form Five - Increase.
A golden spike of light shot forward, impaling the man through the chest before he could fire. His lifeless body slumped over the crate.
They didn't stand a chance.
The deeper I went, the more brutal the executions became.
A slaver threw a dagger at my back. I caught it mid-air, spun, and flung it back. The blade buried itself in his throat.
A group of four tried to ambush me in a narrow hallway.
I leaped forward, releasing Durandal
A single, blinding arc of light carved through them, their bodies cleaved in two.
Their screams barely had time to register before their bodies hit the ground.
Blood coated the floors, the walls, the ceiling.
I moved like a storm of death, cutting down every slaver I encountered.
Some begged for mercy.
I gave them a bullet instead.
Some tried to fight back.
They died faster.
Some fled, sobbing, only to slam into the magical barriers I had placed.
There was no escape.
By the time I reached the central chamber, the last few survivors had gathered.
Unlike the weaklings before them, these ones were stronger.
Battle-hardened mercenaries, probably ex-rune knights, each brimming with magic.
The leader, a scarred man in thick plate armor, stepped forward.
"You've killed everyone," he growled. "But you won't get past us."
I rolled my shoulders. "You really think that?"
He didn't reply. Instead, he and his men attacked at once.
A swordsman lunged at me with blinding speed. I caught his blade with two fingers, twisted, and snapped it in half.
I kicked him in the chest, sending him flying into the far wall hard enough to shatter stone.
A fire mage hurled a massive inferno.
I simply walked through it, unharmed.
His eyes widened in terror.
"Impossible—"
I thrust Chastiefol forward. The golden spear pierced his skull before he could finish the sentence.
Two left.
One charged at me, fists glowing with earth magic.
I let him throw a punch—then caught his fist, crushing it in my grip.
He screamed.
I ripped his arm off and smashed him into the ground.
One left.
The commander stood there, trembling.
He had witnessed absolute devastation in mere seconds.
I stepped toward him. "Last words?"
His breathing was ragged. "You… you're a demon."
I grinned. "Close enough."
A single gunshot ended him.
With the last slaver dead, I stood in the silence.
The tower reeked of death.
I activated NIMO. "Status?"
All threats neutralized. No survivors detected.
I nodded. "Good."
Now, only one thing remained.
To ensure this place never stood again.
Or so I thought.
As I turned to leave, a presence made itself known.
Clapping.
Slow, deliberate claps echoed through the night air, breaking the fragile silence.
I turned sharply, my instincts flaring.
A figure stood at the edge of the treeline, watching us with an amused expression. Cloaked in dark robes, he radiated an aura of power that sent a chill down my spine.
His lips curled into a smirk. "Well, well… quite the performance."
My grip on Rebellion tightened. "Who the hell are you?"
The man chuckled, taking a few steps closer. "You may call me Brain."
Recognition flashed in my mind. The leader of Oración Seis.
What the hell is he doing here?
He tilted his head, eyes gleaming with intrigue. "I must say, your power is… fascinating."
I didn't lower my weapon. "And you're in my way."
Brain's smirk didn't waver. "Oh, I have no intention of fighting you. Quite the opposite, actually."
I didn't trust him. Not for a second. "Then why are you here?"
His eyes gleamed with something I didn't like. "Because power fascinates me. And you… you are something else entirely."
There it was. That dangerous curiosity. The kind that meant trouble.
"You and I are not the same," I said flatly.
Brain tilted his head. "Perhaps. But I wonder… how long will that remain true?"
Before I could respond, he turned on his heel. "We'll meet again, Oberon."
And just like that, he was gone.
I stared after him, my instincts screaming that this wasn't the last I'd see of him.
—-
The Tower of Heaven loomed in the distance, a monument to suffering that had stood for far too long. It was a scar on the world, carved by cruelty, and I had no intention of letting it remain standing a second longer than necessary.
The freed prisoners had gathered at the shore, a safe distance from the structure that had imprisoned them for years. Over a hundred men, women, and children—souls rescued from slavery. Their expressions varied: some cried, some clung to their loved ones, and others stood motionless, struggling to process their freedom.
I had made sure we traveled far enough to ensure their safety. When the tower fell, I didn't want so much as a speck of debris reaching them.
As I neared, a small figure broke from the crowd and sprinted toward me.
"Aiden!"
Kagura crashed into my leg, gripping my coat with tiny, trembling hands.
I rested a hand on her head. "I'm back."
She looked up, her brown eyes shimmering. "You took too long."
I chuckled. "Had to make sure no one got away."
She pouted, unconvinced. "Liar."
Irene approached next, her crimson gaze unwavering. She looked back toward the tower, still visible despite the distance. "You intend to erase it."
It wasn't a question.
I exhaled, turning my gaze toward the massive structure. "Completely."
The freed prisoners overheard, and whispers spread among them. Some turned to look, as if struggling to believe this nightmare would truly be gone.
I raised my voice, ensuring everyone could hear me. "Stay here. When it falls, there won't be anything left."
A mixture of anticipation and unease settled over them, but no one objected. They wanted this place gone as much as I did.
I took a step forward, my focus sharpening.
This place had stolen lives. It had broken families. It had taken everything from those who could not fight back.
It did not deserve to exist.
It needed to be erased.
I raised my hand, summoning a weapon that should not exist in this world.
Ea.
A low, unnatural hum filled the air as the blade materialized in my grasp. Three rotating segments twisted in opposing directions, spiraling endlessly like the gears of a celestial engine. The world itself recoiled at its presence, the fabric of reality bending under its impossible power.
The sea churned violently, tides surging as if the ocean itself feared what was to come.
Irene's gaze sharpened, her instincts immediately recognizing the sheer destruction held within the weapon. "That blade…"
I ignored her, focusing entirely on the monolith before me.
Ea's spirals began to turn, grinding against the very concept of existence. Space warped. The atmosphere howled. The sky darkened as the blade devoured the light around it.
I gripped the hilt tighter. The Tower of Heaven had stood for too long.
It was time for it to fall.
I exhaled. My grip tightened.
then spoke:
Heaven and Earth split, nothingness praised creation, my Sword of Rupture cleaved the world!
Mortar of the stars, heaven's hell is the eve of creation's celebration.
Now you shall die and be gone
A deafening roar answered my command. Space fractured. The sky itself split apart.
"Enuma…"
The spiraling energy compressed, condensing into an unrelenting force.
"…Elish."
A cataclysmic surge of power erupted.
The spirals spun faster. Then, with a single swing, I unleashed the attack.
A roaring maelstrom of destruction surged forth, a massive spiral of pure force tearing through the sky. The moment it connected with the Tower of Heaven, the world itself seemed to rip apart. A deafening explosion erupted as the very foundation of the structure was obliterated. The spiraling force consumed everything—stone, metal, magic—all of it reduced to dust and nothingness.
The ocean beneath the tower parted from the sheer force of the attack, revealing the seabed for a brief moment before water came crashing back, swallowing the remnants whole. The Tower of Heaven was gone.
The wind howled, carrying away the last traces of what had once stood there.
Silence followed.
Then, a single breath. A hushed whisper among the freed captives. And finally—cheers.
Tears fell freely from those who had been trapped there. Some fell to their knees, others hugged one another, unable to believe it was truly over.
I turned back to them, shouldering Ea before dismissing it back into my inventory. My work here was done.
Irene studied me in silence, her crimson eyes sharp and calculating. "Excessive."
I smirked. "Effective."
She exhaled, but for the briefest moment, I caught it—that flicker of something behind her cold gaze. It wasn't awe. It wasn't admiration.
It was fear.
She buried it quickly, masking it beneath her usual composure, but I knew. Deep down, she understood what I was capable of. And despite all her confidence, all her pride, a part of her was unsettled.
Still, she said nothing of it. Instead, she turned away, as pragmatic as ever. "At least it's gone. Now let's focus on what matters." Her eyes swept over the freed prisoners. "Standing here accomplishes nothing. We need to move."
I nodded. The Tower of Heaven was no more. Now, it was time to take these people home.
—-
The boat scraped against the shore, the soft crunch of sand beneath the hull marking our arrival. The moon hung high above, casting silver light over the restless waves.
The rescued captives stepped onto solid ground, some collapsing to their knees, overwhelmed by the simple fact that they were finally free. Tears fell. Some whispered prayers. Others simply stared at the open sky, as if trying to remember what freedom even felt like.
Kagura stuck close to my side, her small hand gripping my coat as we stepped onto the shore. She had been quiet since we left the ruins of the Tower of Heaven—her usual curiosity and stubbornness replaced by an uncertainty that weighed on her small frame.
Then, a choked gasp broke through the murmuring crowd.
"Kagura…?"
Kagura flinched. Her fingers clenched around my coat. Slowly, hesitantly, she turned toward the voice.
A boy stood a few steps away, his body rigid, his eyes wide with disbelief. He looked rough—scarred, battered, and older than he should have. His dark hair fell messily over his face, his hands trembling at his sides.
Kagura's lips parted, but no words came out. Her entire body trembled.
Then, before Simon could even move—Kagura ran.
She slammed into him, nearly knocking him off his feet.
His arms came around her immediately, gripping her tightly, as if afraid she might vanish if he let go.
"I thought—" Simon's voice cracked. "I thought you were gone."
Kagura clung to him, her tiny hands fisting into his torn shirt. "You never came back…" she whispered, her voice shaking. "You never came back for me."
Simon's whole body shuddered. "I—I couldn't. They took me. They took all of us."
Kagura sniffled against his chest, her small frame trembling. "I waited… I waited for you, but you never came…"
Simon dropped to his knees, pulling her against him. "I'm so sorry, Kagura. I'm so sorry."
She didn't say anything. She just held on tighter.
I exhaled softly, watching the siblings reunite. For the first time since we left the tower, Kagura wasn't clinging to me—she had someone she had been waiting for all this time.
Beside me, Irene observed the scene, her expression unreadable, arms crossed.
"A rare sight," she murmured.
I glanced at her. "What? A happy ending?"
Her crimson eyes flickered to me. "A child reuniting with family."
There was something in her tone. Something distant.
She wasn't talking about Kagura anymore.
I studied her carefully, watching the way her gaze lingered on the freed captives.
"She's in the crowd, you know."
Irene didn't move, didn't even blink, but I felt the subtle shift in her aura.
I rolled my eyes. "Come on. You think I wouldn't have figured it out? You look just like her."
She remained silent, but I pressed on. "The red hair, the way you carry yourself, even the way your magic feels. The resemblance is obvious."
Irene finally exhaled. "I know."
There was no hesitation in her voice. No denial. Just cold acceptance, as if the fact was nothing more than an inconvenient truth.
I tilted my head. "Are you going to see her?"
Silence stretched between us, long and heavy.
Then, Irene spoke. "No."
I raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"
Her lips curled slightly—not a smile, but something colder. "She wouldn't understand."
I scoffed. "That's a weak excuse."
Her gaze sharpened. "And what would you have me do? Walk up to her and declare, 'I am your mother'?"
I shrugged. "It's better than leaving her in the dark."
Irene's expression didn't falter, but I noticed the way her fingers twitched slightly—an unconscious reaction betraying her thoughts.
"She's happy," she muttered. "She has people who care for her. There is no logical reason for me to interfere."
I sighed, shaking my head. "You keep saying that like it's just a simple equation. But people don't work that way, Irene."
She didn't respond.
I glanced at the crowd, spotting the girl in question. Erza was speaking with some of the rescued captives, completely unaware of the woman watching her from a distance.
I looked back at Irene. "If you keep running from this, you'll regret it."
Her gaze drifted toward the dark waves, her expression as unreadable as ever.
But I knew.
Deep down, she was afraid. Not of Erza, not of rejection—but of confronting something she had buried long ago.
For now, I let the conversation drop. This wasn't something I could force. The only one who could decide was Irene herself.
The night remained quiet, the shore at peace.
And for the first time in a long time, Kagura had her family back.
—
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