Sign In To The Body Of Chaos At The Start
Chapter 92: Tower of Damnation!

Chapter 92: Tower of Damnation!

The moment Damon crossed the threshold of the tower, the Codex of Judgment hissed in protest. Not from fear, but from revulsion. Even the divine artifact, forged to judge sin and obliterate evil, could barely endure the sensation flooding the interior of the tower.

The building was basically alive, and it was the apex of evil. Flooded with malevolence and darkness. The walls were bleeding rot and the floors groaned with every step Damon took like a creature half-alive.

As for the air in the building, it scraped against Damon’s lungs like serrated glass, that was how disgusting it was.

Damon actually had to use his mana to block out the deep abyssal scent. He stepped throughout the tower’s first chamber, which resembled a huge foyer, but one that was entirely inverted.

The ceiling was the ground and the ground was the ceiling, while the walls spiraled inward like the mouth of some unspeakable creature.

Statues of guardians, once noble, angelic defenders of Elarith Valis, lined the edges, but their wings were now tattered meat, and their swords had rusted into obsidian bone.

Abyssal rot completely covered all of the statues as well, and their eyes were open, seeming to lock onto Damon everywhere he walked, despite not being alive and able to move.

It honestly weirded Damon out, but he continued forward trying to ignore them all, advancing with his <Eyes Of Oblivion> peeled wide open, detecting the flickering corrupted souls trapped within stone.

They watched him walk through, some of them banging against the stone that held them, trying to warn him to escape before it. Some of them wanted to escape to take his body, and some just stayed, crying in despair as they saw another potential victim.

Still, Damon didn’t listen, walking forward until he heard a screech echo throughout the entire chamber, putting him on extremely high alert.

From the far side of the chamber, a wave of Abyssal thralls poured in.

Some walked on backward-bent legs, others dragged their bodies with arms too long and too many.

Their mouths stretched impossibly wide, filled with rows of teeth shaped like runes of grief. Their armor, once bearing the banners of the Valis Defenders, had fused with their flesh, becoming chitinous shells of pain and obedience.

Damon didn’t hesitate.

[ Judgment Spiral ]

He spun once, unleashing a cyclone of light. The Codex of Judgment hovered high above him, raining down purifying fire, each droplet burning with golden chains.

The light tore through the first ranks, reducing the front line of thralls to nothing more than dust and ash.

Still, the wave continued.

A second volley came, some screeching in tongues no human throat should produce. One leapt onto the ceiling and launched down toward Damon like a scythe made of bone.

[ Divine Combat Technique – Heaven’s Parry ]

BloodReaper shrieked in his grip, intercepting the strike and twisting it mid-air. Damon flipped, drove a knee into the monster’s throat, and shoved the butt of his scythe into its skull.

~CRACK!~

The thing exploded in a mist of darkness.

Still, they kept coming.

Damon’s Gloves of Slaughter pulsed with the echo of each kill. The Abyss fought with numbers, but he fought with purpose and power.

His [ Primordial Eternal Heart ] burned within him like a sun, and he activated it fully now, letting golden veins spread across his body. His aura flared, an explosion of divine pressure.

Another volley came, this time from the shadows. Beasts cloaked in negative light—horrors made of fractured memories. One of them took the shape of his mother, weeping blood. Another wore Artemis’s face, smiling as she dissolved.

Damon clenched his jaw. He didn’t swing blindly.

He walked toward them.

[ Damnation’s Chain ]

The Codex roared. Chains of judgment surged forth, wrapping around the impostors and dragging them into pillars of light.

The truth of their form revealed.

Hollow shades. Born of his doubt.

He burned them away using Judgement Flames and continued onwards, exploring the various rooms on this floor to find the door to the next floor.

A wave of spectral monks attacked, their rosaries made of bone, their chants laced with madness.

[ WarMonger Technique – Fractured Rhythm ]

Damon moved with grace and fury, predicting their motions as if he had fought them a thousand times before. His scythe became a blur of divine death. One by one, the monks fell, until only silence and echo remained.

The next room was worse.

It was a hallway of mirrors. But each mirror showed not Damon, but twisted possibilities.

— A Damon who let Artemis die.

— A Damon who surrendered to the Abyss and slaughtered Talia.

— A Damon who ascended as a god and abandoned everyone.

Each reflection tried to speak or reason to him, tried to convince him why he should choose them as his future, but he didn’t listen at all, destroying every last one of them.

Then came the wall of flesh.

Literally.

The fourth next room was a corridor formed from the bodies of those who had failed. Their mouths were open, whispering for help, their eyes flickering. Some were still alive, though barely.

Damon swallowed hard. The Codex hovered beside him, glowing slightly as he whispered a prayer, not to gods, but to the people themselves.

Then he raised a hand.

[ Retribution Pulse ]

Light exploded from his palm. The flesh burned, the mouths silenced, and the souls released. He heard a sigh ripple through the corridor as if a weight had been lifted.

The next room was a battlefield or more accurately, it was a memory of one. It was a frozen echo of Elarith Valis’s final stand. The defenders stood against an invading tide of Abyssal horrors.

Only... they were all frozen mid-motion.

Spectral images.

Unmoving.

Except one.

A warrior still alive. Or... partially. His armor was shattered, his body covered in rot, but his will remained intact. A flicker of the city’s last resistance.

"You... shouldn’t be here," the man rasped, his voice wet with infection, "The tower listens. It remembers. It hates."

"I know," Damon said. "And I’m going to destroy it."

The man looked up. His eyes were milky, but they burned with faint defiance. "Then take this..."

He handed Damon a shard.

A fragment of a soul anchor. It pulsed with purified memory.

"If you plant that at the tower’s heart... it might be enough."

Damon nodded and moved on, leaving the warrior behind, sealed in his moment of resistance.

He finally arrived at the final door of the first floor. Once he opened it, he saw a jagged rupture carved into a bleeding wall pulsing with Abyssal mana.

Damon approached it cautiously, BloodReaper already drawn and humming with restrained hunger. The Codex of Judgment hovered near his shoulder, its chains swaying restlessly like serpents in anticipation.

Damon exhaled slowly.

He pushed his hand through the bleeding hole, which gave way with a moist shlick, coating his skin in a film of ice-cold slime that evaporated under his divine aura. One step forward, and reality buckled slightly, compressing inward.

He emerged into a circular chamber.

The air was heavier here. Suffocating. No rot clung to the walls, this room was... clean. The moment Damon’s boots touched the bone-white floor, he felt it.

The stare.

Above.

A massive Evil Eye floated in the center of the ceiling, though calling it just an "eye" would have been a disservice to the monstrosity watching him.

It was the size of a carriage, its sclera gray and veined with lines of pulsating black mana, its iris an ever-shifting spiral of colorless madness. The pupil was jagged, like a cracked mirror, and it followed Damon with unsettling precision, as if drinking in his soul one layer at a time.

And worst of all... it smiled.

Not with a mouth. But with knowing. Damon raised BloodReaper in warning, "You watching me?"

The Eye blinked once.

And then everything changed.

The walls peeled back like scabbed skin, revealing massive holding cells hidden behind the room. Screeches filled the air, and then they came.

Abyssborn.

Dozens of them.

They poured in like tar, squelching and howling, some on two legs, others slithering like centipedes made of ribs and fangs. One had no face, only a spiraling hole in its chest. Another dragged a long tongue behind it, wrapped in barbed chains.

Damon didn’t wait.

[ Saint Grade Shadow Stalker Technique ]

He vanished into darkness just before the first beast could strike, reappearing behind it with a snap of displaced air.

BloodReaper carved a crescent of divine energy, cleaving through three of the creatures in one swing. Their corpses collapsed inward, unraveling into shrieks.

[ Judgment Spiral ]

He spun, golden chains lashing outward from the Codex, purifying the front line in a single burst. The light seared their malformed flesh, but more came, eager to fight.

The Evil Eye blinked again, causing the monsters to evolve. Their limbs extended. Their bones twisted. Black fire lit in their sockets, and their movements became more coordinated. One reached for Damon with a claw of pure soul-rot, striking faster than the eye could track.

[ Heaven’s Parry! ]

BloodReaper met the strike. Sparks flew. Damon drove his elbow into the creature’s snout, then kicked it backward into two others. He followed it up with a downward swing, cleaving through all three.

Still, more surged forth.

The Evil Eye pulsed again, and this time Damon heard a voice, deep and cavernous, not with words, but with thoughts burned directly into his skull.

"More data. Fascinating. You defy entropy. You fight like memory incarnate. I want to understand..."

[ Void Lockout ]

Damon detonated a sphere of void mana around him, stripping the Abyssal monsters of their corruptive energy. Many fell instantly, shriveling into ash as their connection to the Eye severed.

Only a dozen remained now. Damon blurred forward, striking down four more with blinding efficiency, their bodies exploding in trails of judgment fire.

Three lunged at him from three different angles.

[ Primordial Chaos Step ]

Time bent. He reappeared at the top of the chamber, flipping mid-air as golden lightning danced around him.

[ Retribution Lance ]

The Codex summoned a massive golden spear, etched with divine runes. Damon hurled it downward. It struck the last group of enemies like divine punishment incarnate, exploding in radiant flame and blinding light.

Only silence remained.

Smoke drifted upward, lit by the golden glow of the Codex’s aftermath. Damon landed with a crunch, his breathing steady, BloodReaper dripping motes of void-corrupted essence. The monsters were gone.

But the Eye remained.

Now pulsing with... excitement?

It stared deeper into Damon, like a predator discovering a rare and fascinating prey.

"You burn brighter than expected. You carry law, chaos, judgment, sin. Such contradictions. I must see more."

Damon narrowed his gaze, "Then you’ll get your turn. Eventually."

"Yes... eventually. But not today."

The Eye began to flicker.

Its form destabilized, distorting into pure shadow, twisting and unraveling like a reel of cursed film. It blinked one final time, and its voice echoed once more:

"I’ll see you at the top. Don’t die before then."

Then it vanished.

Damon stood still for a moment, scythe still in hand, before exhaling and glancing around the empty chamber. The once-sealed exit behind the Evil Eye flickered with golden light now.

The way to the second floor was open.

The Codex floated down beside him, chains coiling loosely as if in preparation.

"Guess we’re not done," Damon muttered.

He stepped through the light, and began the climb to the second floor of the Tower of Damnation.