The end of the world.
He had heard those words before.
He had heard them when he followed Abelard Pavlenko’s memories on the Floor of Breakthrough.
The operation that the Tower Master, Abelard Pavlenko, had pushed through even while disregarding his benefactor and teacher, Ren Hank.
The migration of the city of Tetradia itself.
What he had spoken of then was the end of the world.
He had said he would go there together with Tetradia.
He had not called it escape. Nor had he said they would retreat.
He had simply said it was an absolutely necessary process, that it had to be done.
Where was the end of the world, what in the world was it, and what secret, what truth was hidden there that made it so?
“Child. Hio Pavlenko. You are qualified. Though you are still lacking, you are qualified to know the truth, and qualified to set foot in that world.”
Kreutzwald spoke warmly, gently.
Truly as if soothing a child, or persuading one.
“You must be curious. You must have many questions.”
Of course he did.
There were far too many mysteries left unresolved.
Even though they were facing the abyss, there was no one who knew exactly what the abyss was.
“If you come with me, you will learn.”
So Kreutzwald’s proposal was not a proposal.
Whether he went with him or not.
It seemed like there were two choices, but in truth, there was only one choice Hio could make.
“What will you do? Will you come with me to the end of the world?”
He lifted his head and looked at Kreutzwald.
A consistently gentle expression, impossible to read.
And in that state, a hand extended toward him.
“Or will you return outside and see whether my words are true?”
Hio turned his head and looked toward the exit.
The countless people who would be waiting for him out there.
He was worried about them, but…
As said before, this was a problem with a predetermined answer.
And so he reached out and clasped Kreutzwald’s proffered hand.
“Let’s go, then. To the end of the world or whatever it is.”
Let’s go.
Let’s go and run straight into it.
He did not know whether what was hidden there was the truth or a vast abyss, but if he simply turned back now, the only thing that awaited them in the end was destruction.
He could not shake that feeling.
— Hehehe. Good. Once you go and get a little closer to that esteemed person, could you pass along a message from me? Tell him I respect him… or perhaps ask him about the theory of necromancy…
Skillfully blocking out Purnell’s fussing, Hio looked at Kreutzwald once more.
Kreutzwald was looking down at Hio’s hand in his and laughing heartily.
He laughed like that for a while, then suddenly stopped and said,
“I will tell you in advance, but the only one qualified to go to the end of the world is you.”
“…Then it’s just me. Who else is here besides me?”
“Kkulk-kulk… Yes, that is true.”
He let go of Hio’s hand and looked around.
Abyss filled every direction.
Not ordinary darkness, but the true abyss.
If not abyssal energy, but the real abyss were released into the world, then it truly would be the road to destruction.
That was why Hio could not turn back through the floor just to confirm whether Kreutzwald’s words were lies or truth.
Besides, there did not seem to be any particular reason for him to lie, so Hio had no choice but to believe it was the truth and go with him.
Even so, there was one thing he needed to make absolutely certain.
“You really can forcibly close the floor, right?”
“Do not worry.”
“You have to be sure. The moment this gets released into the world, there will really be no answer.”
“Of course.”
“Tell me at least the rough principle behind how you’re going to forcibly close the floor. Only then can I follow you with peace of mind.”
This much truly had to be made certain.
No matter how great a dark mage and necromancer Kreutzwald might be, to think he could even do something like this.
He, too, was still a mere human, so how could such a thing be possible?
Wasn’t this as if he had become a god?
“Klk-klek. What a clear-headed child. Come over here. I will show you how a floor is closed.”
Kreutzwald gestured, pointing beside himself.
Hio stood alongside him as he was told.
“…!”
And then, all at once, a tremendous surge of mana swept out again.
The mana spreading from Kreutzwald expanded like a storm, filling the floor.
For Hio, who could see the flow of mana, it was a sight that could only leave him appalled.
How could a human accomplish such a thing?
Having seen this, his doubts only surged higher.
As a person, no, as a mage, he could not suppress his curiosity.
How would Kreutzwald close the floor with this vast mana?
Because he was so curious, he opened his eyes wide and took in the flow of mana.
And there, within that storm of mana that would not even be visible to an ordinary person’s eyes,
“The formal name of this place, which you call an Abyss Gate, is the Tower of the Abyss.”
Kreutzwald’s low voice reached him.
“Then let me ask you one thing.”
At the same time, a pitch-black hole appeared beneath the two of them.
A distant hole like a bottomless pit, like the abyss itself.
But Hio could not spare even the slightest attention for the hole that had appeared under his feet.
“To begin with.”
The question Kreutzwald continued with—
And the answer one could infer from it—
Were things that lay far beyond common sense.
“Who do you think designed the Tower of the Abyss?”
A question he had never expected at all.
“Did you think it was a god?”
An assumption he had never once considered.
“No.”
The Abyss Gate.
Whether it was a tower or another world entirely.
The one who had created this space, whose number of floors could not even be guessed, was not a god.
“It was a mage.”
With those words, the figures of Kreutzwald and Hio were swallowed by the deep hole and vanished.
「A fatal error has occurred in ‘Abyss -58th Floor.’」
「The floor will be forcibly closed.」
「Abyss -58th Floor is sinking into an unfathomably deep abyss.」
Only those system messages echoed through the space where no one remained.
* * *
Truly.
He could say with absolute certainty that he had not intended to log out.
The reason was simple.
Because he truly loved this world.
「Would you like to use Logout Ticket (72h)?」
Silbert van Ernhem.
A top-ranked player ranked fifth in Ventair.
On Earth, he was Nam Taemin, famous as Korea’s savior and the first Awakened.
He was also a full professor at Imenia Academy, and the first possessor to research a method by which the residents of this world could develop skills without relying on the system.
「Using Logout Ticket (72h).」
Even for such a Silbert, there was nothing he could do.
What could he possibly have done?
He had done his best.
Even when the abyss filled the space, he had soothed the anxious possessors.
Even when aberrations he had never seen before ran rampant, he had tried to analyze them.
When Hio Pavlenko, who had been protecting the entire expedition alone, collapsed.
When the abyss surged in through the collapsing barrier.
Even when the aberrations charged at terrifying speed, he had mobilized all his abilities and tried to stop them.
But what use had any of that been?
The telekinesis he unleashed to its limit could barely hold down a single aberration.
Would the others have been any different?
Daphne had seemed to fight fiercely at a glance… but even she likely had no particular solution.
And all the while, the energy of the abyss, that dreadful darkness, drew closer.
The aberrations tore through the expedition without hesitation.
Truly, wasn’t there nothing he could do?
The Supreme Heavenly Demon had fallen, and a vast abyss had engulfed the expedition.
Even if Vitalianus remained, he was a knight.
It was obvious that he could not protect everyone and escape like the Supreme Heavenly Demon.
So he fled.
There was also a rational reason.
He could willingly risk his life for that world, but dying like that would have been a meaningless dog’s death.
It was not a situation where the tides of battle would change just because he staked his life on it.
And… on Earth, his family, his friends, and his loved ones remained.
No matter how sincerely he cherished and loved the world of Ventair, he could not compare its importance to that.
He had to protect it, no matter what.
Not that world, but this one.
“T-this isn’t the time…”
Silbert.
No, Nam Taemin staggered to his feet.
All the Awakened must have logged out.
If so, there was no need to even look. This floor was a failure.
Terrible aberrations, and an energy even more terrible than them, would spread throughout the entire world.
They had to prepare for that.
That was why he had logged out, and logout existed for that very purpose.
Logout was a power meant to protect this world, Earth.
Do not die in vain and lose the information you barely managed to obtain.
Use the information and power you gained to protect Earth.
That was the reason for logout’s existence that Nam Taemin had only recently concluded.
“…It can’t be helped.”
He had thought about it for quite a long time, starting several months ago, and this was the conclusion he had reached.
So it could not be helped.
Ultimately, it was the will of God telling him to protect his homeland.
How could a human defy God’s will?
If he could not defy it, then what should he do?
“I need to gather all the Awakened and establish countermeasures.”
Having finished his thoughts, Nam Taemin quickly left the room.
It was to anticipate the failure of the floor and establish countermeasures against it here on Earth, not in the world of Ventair.
And it was one day later that, along with the news that the floor had been cleared, unbelievable tragic news was delivered.
* * *
“Hehehe…”
A low laugh sounded in a spacious room.
A room wide and lavish, yet not even a single ray of light entered it.
“Heh, hehehe…”
The laughter coming from within it was somehow strange.
It cut off again and again, then resumed.
By the time that had repeated several more times, it had become impossible to tell whether it was laughter or sobbing.
No, by now, it was certainly closer to sobbing.
“Heh… heuh…”
With his head lowered,
A man was clutching his face in both hands.
The most famous man in America, and the man known as the strongest among the first Awakened in the world.
Antiphus Framan.
His original name was Phil Knight.
In his vast home, at the top of a skyscraper, he sat collapsed alone, spilling sounds that could not be distinguished as laughter or tears.
“I… didn’t know.”
He had never imagined such a disaster would happen.
He had never imagined monsters he could not even begin to figure out how to fight would emerge in such numbers.
He truly had not known.
Hadn’t the voice in his head said so?
That it would end with only the Supreme Heavenly Demon dying.
But what was this?
Wasn’t it different from what it said?
“…Did he die?”
He must have.
The Supreme Heavenly Demon, that is.
Because Antiphus had continued watching him, he knew.
He must certainly have died.
He had clearly seen him collapse, vomiting blood and shedding tears of blood.
The others might not have noticed, but Antiphus had long since realized that the gazes of every monster were directed solely at the Supreme Heavenly Demon.
The voice in his head had been wrong when it said it would end with only the Supreme Heavenly Demon dying, but it had been right when it said the Supreme Heavenly Demon would die.
Once he even lost consciousness in a situation like that, it was undoubtedly true that those aberrations would tear his limbs apart in an instant.
The moment he confirmed that, he logged out.
He was suffering from guilt because of it, but what was he supposed to do?
It had already happened, and there had been no way.
“…Yes. This was an accident.”
An accident.
Aside from saying it would end with only the Supreme Heavenly Demon dying, the voice had not lied.
Look.
There was no one who suspected Antiphus, was there?
Perhaps it really would have ended with only the Supreme Heavenly Demon dying, but he had struggled needlessly and caused it to turn out like this.
Yes.
It meant this was not his fault.
Antiphus, who had been muttering to himself like that for quite some time, abruptly stopped speaking.
After some time had passed, he reached a calm conclusion in a voice that had become much clearer.
“…No. It is my fault.”
He immediately blew away the filthy thought that had arisen.
It was true that he had started this.
It was also true that he had regretted it while fleeing toward the exit.
I should have ignored that voice. I should not have wavered.
So he could not turn away from it.
It was something he had done to stop the ruler’s penalty that grew larger day by day, and to overcome his fear that he would never surpass the Supreme Heavenly Demon.
He must not turn away from this truth.
If he was a ruler, he had to take responsibility.
“I will take responsibility.”
That did not mean he had the slightest intention of stepping before everyone and revealing the truth.
That would be revealing the truth, not taking responsibility.
Taking responsibility meant he simply had to try harder, to become stronger.
He only had to take on the role the Supreme Heavenly Demon should have played.
The role of the true strongest in the world.
The role of a hero whom all looked up to and admired.
He merely had to be the one to fulfill it now.
Yes. That was all.
What else could he do?
It had already happened.
“Right. Then first, preparations for this floor…”
Thinking so, he rose to his feet.
A corner of his heart was still uneasy, but what loomed even larger than that was relief.
The mysterious voice could no longer be heard.
In any case, no one knew the truth of this incident.
The Supreme Heavenly Demon was dead.
There was no reason his own abilities would diminish.
And so Antipus left the room to devise plans for what lay ahead.
What he let slip at the very end before leaving could no longer be called weeping.
“Heh, hehehe…”
It was unmistakably the sound of laughter.
* * *
Just like Silvert, a day later, Antipus also received the tragic news.
It must have been delivered to every possessor who had taken part in the raid.
The 58th floor of the Abyss, where not even the slightest hope had been visible.
That calamitous floor whose type they could not even be certain of, and whose possibility of being cleared had not seemed to exist in even the smallest measure.
The immense energy of the Abyss, and the countless, overwhelmingly powerful monstrosities.
While everyone was predicting failure and continuing their countermeasure meetings, the news that arrived completely defied those expectations.
“They say the 58th floor raid succeeded, and the gate has vanished.”
It was news of a successful clear.
“Most of the expedition force suffered injuries, major and minor, but there were virtually no deaths…”
They had even escaped.
From that hellish place.
There was only one reason they had been able to do so.
Only one person had remained in that hell until the very end and kept the flame of hope alight.
“Hio Pavlenko…”
The Supreme Heavenly Demon.
He had remained until the very end and let everyone escape.
He had sent everyone out, held back the Abyss and the monstrosities so they could not get through, and in the end, vanished together with the floor, together with the Abyss.
The shock that truth delivered, the weight of what a single man had done, was so great that no one who heard the news dared open their mouth.
And Antipus’s rigid face did not soften for days.
The Supreme Heavenly Demon.
Hio Pavlenko.
He had been a true hero.
Perhaps a hero who would have brightly illuminated the world.
A hero who would have kindled a radiant light in the darkness filled with the Abyss.
A hero who had offered up his own life without hesitation for the sake of insignificant people.
Could he dare take the place of such a hero?
Could he truly carry out even that man’s share?
“…”
He simply could not be certain.