[Corruption Wielder] Chapter 160: Angel

The angel woke, and it understood. Where the world prevented it from moving, it changed it or removed the obstacles in its path.

It was a being of many purposes and abilities, but it had been awakened with a singular one.

Eliminate. Eradicate. Execute.

No. That wasn’t quite right. That was… a memory of a memory. Not its own. Implications it was picking up from the souls of those that had fed it. Knowledge from Beyond.

This was not what it was meant for.

It raised its head and Looked.

With its first step, a world warped beneath its stride. What had been a technologically advanced reality pocket, purchased from a sovereign-tier in a clandestine deal and quietly reinforced over months with the assistance of the finest agents magical compulsion could procure, became little more than dust raining from the sky.

Creation screamed as it stepped forward again, bringing more aspects of its Self from Beyond.

Sunlight shone down upon a new world.

But an angel’s light burned brighter.

#

The last time Lev had felt truly able to relax had been—well, if he was being honest with himself, that ship had sailed long ago. Once the world had ended, he hadn't had a single night where he didn’t wake up at least once, wondering if that sound he'd heard outside was another silver-rank monster trying to break into his house.

Discounting that, he had thought that the period between the end of the tutorial and the arrival of the life elf empire had been pretty decent as well. It hadn't been perfect, but he had some kind of security for a while.

He couldn't say the same was exactly true now, but it was nice to be under the control of an entity that actually knew what it was doing—well, in as much as anybody could know what they were doing in this fucked-up world.

He and most of the rest of the settlement he created had been folded into the ESNA, placed in an offshoot of one of the major cities. To be quite honest, he and the others had been okay with not being in one of the biggest places. Even though cities like Boston, New York, and D.C.—or whatever they were calling those places nowadays—had more defenses, they were also significantly more susceptible to major attacks.

Lev, Allie, and so many others—most of them high bronze if not silver—had found this place to be a nice sweet spot. It was still defended by a decent group of high-ranking silvers, and they weren’t often attacked by monsters above their pay grade. If they needed to run away, they would. Life was a lot easier to move when everyone was carrying several tons' worth of extra-dimensional storage on them.

Day-to-day life wasn’t quite what it had been before, but there was some semblance of normalcy returning. After diving the local dungeons, people would go out and party. Training was a necessary part of every day, of course, but it wasn’t just combat that people were practicing for. Those with non-combat classes were working to make their world a better place and disseminate teachable skills to those whose entire skill set revolved around killing things faster.

All in all, things were looking… okay. And he hadn't felt okay in a long time.

He had long since stopped getting updates from Will. While the corruption wielder still talked to him every now and again, it was clear he did so more out of some sense of obligation to someone who had once been something of a friend than an actual desire to inform Lev of what was happening.

That was honestly completely fine by Lev. He’d seen tidbits on the news. Whatever the hell was going on out there, he was glad that other people were dealing with it while he found a life for himself.

Today was no different from the last couple of weeks he had. Lev and his dungeon group, all of whom had fought their way through the tutorial with him, were working their way up to fighting and defeating their first gold-ranked boss. They weren’t quite there yet, but they’d be there soon.

As they filed into the local bar, greeted by another one of their friends who’d taken up bartending after losing both legs during a previous mass casualty incident, the channel playing on whatever the equivalent of TVs was in the apocalypse abruptly switched.

None of them paid it much mind until the sirens started blaring.

At the same time, a system message scrolled across Lev’s eyes.

This is a warning from Supreme Commander Regina of the ESNA. Activate defensive skills. Take shelter. Do not look at the sky.

On the screens posted around the bar, the same message was playing. This time, it showed video. A satellite—or some similar magical equivalent—was looking down at the United States, or what was left of it, from high above. A massive bloom of white had emerged from where Nevada had once been, and it was expanding at a terrifying rate.

“Holy shit,” Lev said. “Everybody down!”

Taking his own advice, he hit the floor, shielding everybody as best he could with his recently maxed-out silver-rank skill, Ionized Shield. Allie, utilizing her evolved class of Radiance Overlord, activated another protective skill.

Not a moment too soon. Power strummed through the bar like a tornado, raw force searing through Lev's skill and annihilating it. Even with his eyes squeezed shut, he could see nothing but white.

It felt like something was tearing through him, but he could tell from his system that his body was suffering no damage. The pain said otherwise, but after an indeterminate period of time, it ceased. Despite having bombarded his eyes with a light that burned the sky, Lev could see immediately after.

When it had passed, none of their skills were still active, and his magic felt like it had been burned to its core, but their bodies hadn't suffered any effect.

They looked at each other, reminded of the other time they had seen this amount of raw power. That didn't even compare to what they had just felt.

All that remained was the sensation that something had changed and the odd feeling that someone was missing.

Allie asked the question on everybody's mind.

“What the hell was that?”

In the corner of his eye, as Lev pulled up his chat window to talk to anyone who might have known anything, he caught the notification.

His stomach sank.

Warning: contact [William Li-Brown] has died. Messaging has been frozen.

#

“He did not stop the angel,” Dread Executor Azathoth commented.

“No, he didn't.” Ramiel’s aura flickered in a pale imitation of a smile. “That won't matter.”

“Won't matter? He is dead. The fragment of myself attached to him is gone.”

“I wouldn't be so quick to count him out,” Ramiel said.

“Are you still planning on going?” Azathoth asked. “This is the perfect excuse not to.”

“It depends,” Ramiel replied. “This could be all for nothing. If so, then I'll wait for the next cycle. But I believe in my choices. I haven't made a wrong one yet, and this is my newest one.”

“Bold talk about a corpse.”

“We'll see about that.”

#

Will had thought that he was ready. He had faced gods on their own territory, pushed back against sovereign tiers with nothing but his soul. There was a reason he was the single most feared human being on Earth. Maybe all of that had made him overconfident. He had thought that he could buy at least a few seconds—critical moments where the superweapon the ESNA had been building could be deployed or a powerful skill could activate. If he had managed to land a bit of corruption on the angel, that could have been a game changer.

But the light that burned the sky burned him too. There was a moment of brief, intense pain, and every single wall—barriers in his soul that had stood up to deities, features he had gained specifically for fighting back against creatures far greater than him—turned to ash like toilet paper in a wildfire.

Will barely got to think oh shit before his body was reduced to its component atoms.

#

The corruption wielder blinked awake in a familiar area. He hadn't been here in a while, courtesy of the god running it having a bit of a grudge against him, but his memory was pretty good these days, and he definitely remembered being here the last time he died.

That time, it had been his soul. This time, he was pretty certain it had been a lot more than that.

He found himself in a throne room. Said throne dominated the attention of the room. Built from thousands upon thousands of crowns, Will knew exactly what it was.

This was the Eternal Throne.

Skill: [Eternal Throne]

- Spell (Sigil).

- Cost: 1 charge fulfilled. [210/10,000] to 2nd charge.

- Cooldown: varies.

Gold

To obtain the Crown is to rule. To rule is to stand on a thousand lives.

This skill grants the ability to return from death after you have killed and absorbed the essence of 1,000 users of your rank. Each rank above you counts ten times more than the rank below. Each rank beneath you counts ten times less than the rank above.

Subsequent uses will require more fuel.

“To stand on a thousand lives,” Will repeated. “You got what you asked for.”

Using this skill didn't seem to be as simple as just letting the system take over. It was a sigil skill, so it made sense that it would be a little bit more complicated. The gods themselves did have some level of influence over the system, after all.

The throne was occupied. Its resident was a familiar, if not friendly, face.

“YOU,” said the Crown.

“How many times do we have to do this song and dance?” Will asked. “Yes! Obviously, it's me. Who else could you be talking to?”

“YOU HAVE PAID FOR YOUR IMPUDENCE, MORTAL.”

“So you're still doing this,” Will said.

To be honest, as much fun as dicking around with a god was, Will could tell something was different this time. Every previous time he'd gone into a god's soul space, he had gotten the impression that he was simply a part of himself. His soul had been projected into the space just like it would into the Beyond.

This time, he was just floating. Will couldn't sense anything to return to. He had a suspicion that if he fucked up here, he wasn't going to have a second chance.

What he did have in here was a soul. That was, he assumed, what was going to get brought back. If it got brought back.

“INSECT.” The Crown was clearly happy about this. There was a nuance to the way it was roaring so loud that Will's eardrums would have shattered if he were here with a body. It was enjoying this. “YOUR DEATH WILL BRING PEACE AND PROSPERITY. PROSPERITY TO ME AND MINE, BUT PROSPERITY NONETHELESS.”

“Sorry about that,” Will said. “You see here, I've got this skill that says I've got one charge of a do-it-again ability. Yours, in fact. I don't think I'm quite gone yet.”

“WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I WILL PERMIT YOU TO RETURN?”

That was the kicker. Will didn't actually know enough about how the system operated, especially when it came to gods.

He opened his mouth to reply, and then a flicker of something passed through him. Well, his soul at least. The sensation carried implication. It was something greater than he was, a force deeper than what one mortal could manage alone.

Will suspected it was his plausibility manifesting in the space at first, but he wondered if there was something deeper.

There had been a reason he had been selected to be a Dread Executor candidate. Those people weren't just independent forces of chaos. There was a reason they existed. There was a reason the system had created them.

He took a step forward.

“You know, if I was in your position,” he said, “I wouldn't be so fast to promise something to the system and try to go back on it.”

He took another step forward. The Crown did not move. It did not provide anything that might be interpreted as an emotion.

“YOU ARE BUT ONE LOWLY MORTAL. THE SYSTEM CARES NOT FOR YOUR PLIGHT.”

“Maybe not,” Will said. “But will it care that one of its gods has decided that the supreme force in this universe is not the system, but a self-serving deity?”

Another step forward. The energy that had been seizing him started to grow into a static shock, infusing his soul.

The Crown did not speak.

Will took that as a win and continued forward. “I don't know if whatever created the system is still alive or if it itself is alive, but I was a programmer once. I can tell you that any system that has stayed intact this long hasn't done so without a few defenses. Let me make an educated guess about one, and you can tell me if I'm right.”

Peace had been making a power play this entire time, and no other god had been willing to stand up to her directly. The thing was, she had been forced to make that power play. If it was as simple as denying the system what it wanted, she would never have had to do that. Will highly doubted the Crown was stronger than one of the core gods. He certainly didn't believe that it could go against the system that had put it in its place.

But how would the system fight back against abuse? The other gods hadn't directly been acting against Peace. They had used proxies.

And what, Will had wondered, was the single most powerful proxy he could think of?

“Certainty through death,” he recited.

The Hunger did not visibly react, but it was not used to controlling its emotions. The light in the room grew dimmer. The crowns on the throne lost a bit of their luster.

Will gave the Crown his single favorite shit-eating grin.

“Order through chaos,” he continued.

“YOU KNOW NOTHING OF THE WORLDS BEYOND YOUR OWN, MORTAL.”

Except from its reaction, Will could tell that the secrets that Ayla, Nynn, and so many others had been gradually giving him clues to were ones that he could use today.

“Peace through dread,” he enunciated.

Will was almost at the foot of the throne now. That shock that had been traveling through him was a full-on flame now.

“Eliminate.”

The Crown looked down upon him impassively, but Will didn't even need his aura sense to tell that the god knew it had made a mistake.

“Eradicate.”

The Crown made to say something else, so Will made sure to get the final word.

“Execute.”

Power surged through him, the spark that had become a flame evolving even further. Will could feel the raw plausibility shaping around him, protecting him, empowering him.

“Does that ring a bell?” Will asked. He clenched his fists, and his soul burned with rage. “You and yours might not be used to hearing this, what with how you seem to think every single mortal is a toy for you to play with, but hear me now: get out of my way.”

The Crown looked down, shook its head slowly, and reached out.

Will knew what was coming. Indescribable pain. The kind that could rend his soul apart. A god’s fury.

Except it never arrived. The plausibility, the strange energy burning around him, shone like a supernova.

For a second, Will thought he sensed fear.

And then, all of a sudden, the Crown disappeared.

Will glanced around the throne room, looking for something to exercise all his gathered energy on. Finding nothing, he shrugged and sat atop the throne.

You have met the requirements for [Eternal Throne]. Reconstructing your body and soul…

You have met the requirements for a hidden class evolution. Upon your next rank-up, you will gain the ability to become a [Dread Executor].

When the light settled, Caiyeri looked around her. The world had changed. Where there had been a desert before, her feet now sank into soggy ocean sand, water submerging her leg up to the knee.

Beside her, all that was left of Will was a few fading traces of light.

She could do nothing but look. They’d talked about contingencies, but somewhere along the way, she had convinced herself that they would never be necessary. Like there was a universal constant of an overly snarky, overpowered corruption wielder and that nothing would change that.

That shock lasted for all of two and a half seconds. The monsters in the area had been stunned by the sudden changes the angel had caused, but they hadn't been affected all too much either. The elf leapt back into action, though her distraction nearly cost her life.

Just as she was getting back in the swing of things, a second burst of power came. It was less devastating than the first, but it felt no less significant.

Once again, the world seemed to pause.

Caiyeri turned her head as that very constant she'd been thinking of reestablished itself.

From a hole in reality, two dark wings emerged. Shortly after, they were followed by a man cloaked in darkness.

Caiyeri’s smile was the most genuine she’d had in a long time.

Always one for dramatic entrances, she thought.

As he reentered, the angel’s light ignited once again.

In response, its dark mirror spread his hands and wings.

“Every setback is an opportunity,” he said, his voice booming across the battlefield despite the lack of a skill to do so. “I’ll have you know this: I won’t go down so easily the second time.”

William Li-Brown reached out to the Beyond.