SSS-Class Revival Hunter-Chapter 340: Absolute Music (1)

[Following your request, you will be immediately teleported to the seventieth floor.]

Without wasting a second, a sandstorm swallowed me.

[You have entered the seventieth floor.]

The smell of sand became more intense under the sunlight. When I used to play outside in the yard as a child, I would sometimes look at my palm and catch a faint, soft scent of sand. My body and mind, which had grown heated from the hard fight a moment before, were washed away by a wave of tranquility.

[The Mirage-Walking Princess blesses your climb.]

That was a message I hadn’t heard in a long time. Had she been watching me fight from afar? For some reason, I could imagine the princess on a couch, eating potato chips as she watched the battles, so I smiled.

In front of me stood another Pillar—the Primordial Staff.

“You look calm. Your attitude alone is already different from others. It’s been a while since a challenger has come to the lobby I run. When your Guardian, the Sword Emperor, first came here, he was calm, just like you...” The Primordial Staff knitted her brows. “Actually, he looked far more relaxed than you. Perhaps only people like you and him can reach the top of the Tower.”

“I’m curious. What was he like?”

“He gave me a look as if asking me why I didn’t serve alcohol to guests who made it this far. Actually, he said that out loud, using some innovative curses, but I’ll leave that to your imagination.”

I clicked my tongue and looked back at the Guardian, who gave me a look of “So what?”

—There were only dust bunnies here when I arrived, but I never said that.

“He won’t be able to remember anyway,” the Primordial Staff said as if she heard his complaint.

She couldn’t have heard him, she was just smart enough to predict what she couldn’t hear, as if that were a perfectly normal thing to do.

“The Sword Emperor isn’t the only one who had his memories erased. Everyone who meets the Pillars loses their memories. Even the memories of the Constellations who took part in the floor auction are fading away quickly. Yes, Death King, you’re the exception.”

The Primordial Staff leaned her long staff on her shoulder. The seventieth floor was a white space with no mountains, rivers, or trees, but it wasn’t like the white waiting room where the princess had stayed before.

Swish...

Big and small cubes spun together to form one big Rubik’s Cube. Some were as big as the moon while others were smaller than a fist.

Swish.

The cubes moved like gears, meshing and turning as they merged with the white background, popped out again, formed sharp angles, and faded back into white. That was it. They only became sharp for a moment before returning to normal. This loop made up the celestial bodies on this floor, the only existences of this world.

“What do you want from me?” I asked.

The Primordial Staff didn’t offer a straight answer. “The one who wanted things this way is the Tower master. Amethyst wants the Tower to be yours. At least, she wants you to think so. The less the Pillars are seen, the better. That’s what she thinks.”

“But each time we go up a floor, she sends us blessings.”

The Primordial Staff smiled bitterly. The cubes moved slowly behind her back. “Selfish, isn’t it? The duchess can’t refrain from telling you that someone is by your side. That’s how a goddess who only wants to exist when you need her is like. I can’t save the Tower master. Neither can the other Pillars. For the Tower master, we’re what the Constellation Murderer is to you. We owe her our lives. All we can do is help her. All born in Zrakua, the world where the Tower master was born, are bound by this curse. But—”

She looked at me. I could guess what the Primordial Staff was going to say.

“It’s not the same for the people outside your world. Like the Sword Emperor and I.”

Her silver eyes turned dark. “Exactly. Death King, it’s not that I’m choosing not to erase your memories. My hands are simply bound. You earned your position and power on your own. If we wait a thousand years, or ten thousand, or a million years, or even ten million, a human will eventually reach the ninety-ninth floor. It’ll happen. Someday, someone will also reach the hundredth floor. Many will, but we the Pillars may never be allowed to meet someone like you again.

“You’re a miracle. The princess made the gap that Mutia and Hishimit Kritz widened. When Hamustra poured rain in that gap, you bloomed. You found and exploited the weak spot in the spiderweb that the Tower master weaved. I won’t wait for this miracle of life to appear in the universe a second time.”

Again, I asked, “What do you want from me?”

“I only want the same thing you want.” The Pillar raised her staff and tapped the edge of the cube that popped out of thin air. “So far, you’ve been fighting using your specialty.”

The cube became soaked in yellow as its sharp corners melted. It looked like paint flowing out of a pierced balloon, but unlike a balloon, the flow of the melted cube was endless.

She continued, “From now on, you should strive in areas that aren’t your specialty. These are the areas you’ve never paid much attention to.”

The yellow paint dripped on the floor, first soaking her feet, then my shadow and eventually the horizon. The ground under my feet turned bright yellow. The color was gentler than gold and as soft as a wheat field.

The Primordial Staff stepped on the wheat-colored floor, keeping her gaze down. “Just because one is a Constellation of martial arts, that doesn’t mean only warriors serve them. Even a merchant whose life has nothing to do with fighting may fight a thief in a dark alley one day. A musician could end up in a duel with their rival who courts their beloved. Music, medicine, magic, study, farming, trade, sailing...”

Human figures appeared from the yellow waves. Some hit the ground with pickaxes, while others steered boats toward the unknown sea. A man plucked the strings of a violin-like instrument.

“If you want to be a Constellation, you should know these things in order to reach out to them. Well, that’s a grand way to put it, but I’m saying that you’ll also need to improve in areas where you’re not very skilled.”

The corners of her mouth twitched like sleepy grass[1]. I belatedly realized that was an attempt at a smile.

“We’ll need to call an expert to judge whether or not you’ve cleared a stage.”

The Primordial Staff tapped the floor with her staff.

Whoosh!

Light burst forth, and a faint shape of a person emerged from it. Perhaps they had been in the middle of a meal because they seemed to be sitting down. With a thud, they fell to the ground.

“Hm? Huh? What? This is bad! Black Dragon Master? Or is that you, Inquisitor? Calling someone without letting them know in advance isn’t very nice.”

What impressed me was how safe the fall looked. Though they were summoned out of the blue, the person rolled the floor and got up immediately. Our eyes met.

“Oh?”

“Eh?”

We both knew each other well.

“What is this, Gong-Ja? You’re the one who called me? I didn’t know you knew summoning magic.”

Her bright armor shone. As far as I knew, only one of my friends wore armor every day.

“Patricia?”

“Yes, it’s me. I see. I was worrying about nothing. I thought a crisis had arisen and that I had been summoned out of the blue, so I was tense. Kim Gong-Ja, you’re the only friend who hasn’t made a Patrasche joke even after learning my real name.”

“I don’t know if this is the right moment to ask, but I’ll do it anyway. What is Patrasche?”

The Paladin looked shocked. “What? You don’t know Patrasche? Are you okay in the head?”

“I don’t get why I’m treated like this...”

“This is a grave sign that the world will end soon. Gong-Ja, what do you know? Why were you born? Did you ever try to learn anything about the world? Can you really call yourself a Hunter representing our Tower? I recommend that you reflect deeply on your life. When you’re done, read The Dog of Flanders and cry. You have tear ducts for a reason.”

“Okay, I now know for sure that this isn’t the conversation to have right now.”

One thing was clear. Though we hadn’t met in a long time, we didn’t ask each other “what’s up.” Instead, we were discussing each other’s sanity. Our friendship was peculiar like that. We were both equally crazy, so this was considered normal between us.

The two of us looked back at the Primordial Staff. She said, “Death King, I’ll tell you the quest you need to complete, starting from the seventieth floor. Make that person your follower. From the seventy-first to the seventy-ninth floor, get one follower per stage. That’s at least nine followers. That is your first task as a Constellation.”

With a real smile, she added, “A Constellation can’t exist without followers, after all.”

***

The Paladin, the Primordial Staff and I fell quiet. However, a certain ghost was pretty loud.

—I see. I see! I now understand everything perfectly. I never understood why the Sword Emperor Church was founded, you know. If a religion that worships me as a god appeared, I would have been the first to end it. Why put a living person on an altar and turn them into a ghost?

But you are an actual ghost.

The Guardian scoffed.

—No, I’m not. I wasn’t back then. Something felt wrong. I somehow thought I was so skilled that people praised me even if I did nothing, but... Tsk. I guess I was also doing this quest from the seventieth to the eightieth floors.

Huh?

—Yeah, yeah. That Pillar or something said that memories get erased. After clearing the floors, my memories were distorted. Still, I ended up with followers, and the Sword Emperor Church was founded, but I somehow forgot how I did it.

That sounded plausible.

The Primordial Staff said, “Normally, clearing the seventieth to eightieth floors is very difficult. Unless there’s a special case, Hunters from the same Tower as the challenger are picked as the examiners, but the challenger often doesn’t get along with those Hunters. They’re usually hellbent on making the challenger fail.”

“Oh...”

“Even the best Hunters often fail or roam these floors for hundreds of years, but maybe things will be different for you, Death King.”

The Primordial Staff also explained to the Paladin how the floors worked. At first, the Paladin was confused, but she soon understood.

“So, if I worship Kim Gong-Ja as a god, the seventieth floor will be cleared.”

The Primordial Staff nodded. “That’s right, child.”

“Are there any special conditions to serve a Constellation? Does one need to bow with a full heart or give their soul? Must these needs be met before one can say they serve the Constellation?”

“No. When the Death King struggles his ass off on the seventy-first floor and you say ‘enough,’ the floor will be cleared.”

“Alright.” The Paladin turned to me. “Gong-Ja.”

“Yes.”

“Look at me closely.”

As usual, she looked grave.

“My name is Patricia. I’m... the person who will make you a god. Be grateful.”

What?

“I don’t want anything from you. Go to the seventy-first floor and live as you wish. Just breathe. Anyone can breathe. It’s fine. I’ll make you a god.”

Her expression and tone were so serious, but somehow I wanted to aggressively poke her shoulder and start a fistfight.

“Even if you do something stupid, I’ll accept you as a god since gods are also stupid at times.”

“You and I have become really close, haven’t we?” I asked, dumbstruck.

My first follower candidate was far from ordinary.

1. Mimosa Pudica is the academic name. It shakes like crazy if you grab it by the stem. ☜