Sign In To The Body Of Chaos At The Start-Chapter 93: Climbing

After the first floor of the Tower, it didn’t grow any easier. The difficultly multiplied exponentially each floor he rose. The horrors only grew and grew, and the despair and rot surrounding him also grew.

Every single floor Damon ascended seemed to be torn from the page of a nightmarish scripture of a divine being long gone mad. It showed unspeakable sights and now, with blood crusted against his gloves, his coat torn, and soaked in soul energy, Damon stood upon the threshold of the tenth floor.

However, what led Damon to this spot was not mere progression, it was a war.

But what led him here... was not mere progression.

It was war.

Floor Two - The Choir of Worms

The moment Damon stepped from the golden portal, the air was filled with song. Not the kind one would find in a cathedral or battlefield... but a hum of hungry throats chanting in broken harmonies.

The floor was circular, its walls pulsing with flesh-like threads, and from above, hung long, silken strands that moved not with gravity, but pulse. From these threads descended wormlike beings, each with dozens of mouths and a single, glowing eye.

They sang. Each note a fragment of madness. Each chorus a compulsion. Damon’s ears bled but The Codex of Judgment spun rapidly, chains flaring out to keep his sanity intact.

[ Sanctum of Silence. ]

With a flick of his hand, Damon encased himself in divine quiet. The songs ceased for him alone. Then he attacked.

BloodReaper danced with divine light, severing throats and silencing hymns. But every death caused the remaining worms to mutate. Their mouths grew fangs. Their songs took on languages of lost civilizations.

It took judgment fire, and finally, a blast of purified Aether from his [ Primordial Spirit Aether Body ] to reduce the entire chamber into ashes and silence.

Floor Four - The Labyrinth of the Forsaken

Here, Damon found himself wandering a maze built from gravestones and weeping statues. Each turn led him deeper, yet the layout changed constantly, seemingly alive and amused.

The statues whispered.

They wore the faces of those he had lost, or feared to lose. Astralene with cracked wings, Artemis sobbing blood, Talia staring with judgmental scorn.

"Leave them," the walls murmured, "You’ll only drag them into damnation with you."

Damon didn’t argue. He carved his way through. Every dead-end was met with [ Void Lockout ], disabling the maze’s shifting mechanism. Every haunting whisper was silenced by [ Retribution Halo ].

He placed divine markers with golden chains, tearing a path through the illusions and lies. At the maze’s heart was a coffin.

Inside... lay a version of himself. Still breathing. Still sane.

But silent.

Damon didn’t kill it. He laid a hand on its chest and whispered:

"I’m still fighting."

Then moved on.

Floor Six - The Garden of Regret

It was silent, and lush, unnaturally so. Twisting trees with blood-colored leaves. The garden was alive, and each plant held the soul of someone who had failed to cleanse the tower. Many begged for help. Some hissed and cursed. Others were just... tired.

When Damon stepped into the center of the garden, he saw the Gardener.

Once a high-ranking World Spiritist of Elarith Valis, now twisted into a creature made of bark, metal, and broken hope. Its face split open, revealing rows of spirit cores pulsing with regret.

"I can help you grow," it said.

Damon responded with [ Damnation’s Chain ].

The battle shattered the garden. The Gardener wielded corrupted spirit techniques, forming thorn familiars and summoning hybrid spirit monsters.

But Damon was relentless.

He called upon the [Saint Grade WarMonger Technique], allowing each injury to fuel his momentum, and as his divine pressure built, the garden withered.

When the Gardener finally fell, it whispered, "I should have chosen to die... like you."

Damon moved on, dragging the Codex behind him as it burned the last vines to ash.

Floor Eight - The Trial of the Sins

A chamber of obsidian. Seven doors. Seven avatars. Each one representing a deadly sin. Envy had Damon fighting a mirror of himself that grew stronger each time he triumphed.

Pride forced him to kneel under the crushing weight of the Abyss, denying all titles and strength until he chose humility. Greed tempted him with visions of Artemis calling out from a cage of gold, pleading for freedom in exchange for power.

He denied it.

At the end, he unlocked another level of the [ Seven Deadly Sins ], now wielding Wrath.

He stepped out scorched, silent, and one step closer to the top.

Floor Ten - The Return of the Eye

And now, here.

This time, the chamber was not bone-white.

It was pitch black.

The only source of light came from Damon’s divine aura, and the ever-glaring presence watching from above.

The Eye had returned.

But it had changed.

Now the size of a house, its sclera was covered in shifting glyphs—thousands of runes from ancient and forbidden languages. Its iris spun faster now, and its pupil was no longer a jagged shard but a spiraling vortex of captured souls.

It spoke again.

"You’re still climbing. Improbable. Delicious. Do you know how few make it here intact?"

Damon raised BloodReaper.

"I’m not here to impress you. I’m here to end you."

The Eye shuddered... then laughed. Not aloud. Not in thought. But in the vibrations of reality itself.

And then it summoned them.

Six champions. Former defenders of the city, now utterly broken.

Each wore a suit of armor forged from abyssal essence. Each one bore a cursed title:

The Shield Who Broke

The Flame That Froze

The Saint Who Fell

The Archer of Endless Mourning

The Mage of Unforgiveness

The Blade of False Hope

They attacked in perfect coordination, their movements honed from lives spent defending the innocent, but now twisted to destroy.

Damon was forced into full engagement. He activated [ Overclock ], channeling celestial lightning into every nerve.

Time slowed.

[ Primordial Chaos Step ] warped him between their attacks. [ Heaven’s Parry ] shattered the Blade’s longsword. [ Void Lockout ] suppressed the Mage’s cursed casting.

The Flame That Froze nearly skewered him with time-frozen fire—but he bent space around it with [Eyes of Oblivion], redirecting it into the Archer.

Still, they kept coming.

Even as Damon destroyed their bodies, the Eye resurrected them.

"You see?" it whispered, "I learn. I adapt. I remember your techniques."

"Then remember this," Damon snarled.

[ Judgment Flash! ]

A blinding wave of divine light erupted from the Codex. It didn’t target the champions.

It hit the Eye. The glyphs burned. The spinning pupil slowed.

Damon hurled [ Retribution Lance ], enhanced with every technique he’d gained over ten floors.

It struck the Eye dead center.

~BOOM!!~

The chamber ruptured. Reality tore in half. The champions disintegrated in streams of unfulfilled purpose.

The Eye screamed.

"You are... not a man. You are entropy in judgment’s skin."

Damon, panting, stood over the writhing remains.

The Eye didn’t die. But it withdrew.

"I will await you at the peak, Damon. There, we will unmake the truth together."

Then it vanished again.

Silence fell.

The next gate opened.

And Damon, without a word, stepped forward, climbing toward the 11th floor.

Toward the origin.

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