Chapter 132: The True Face of the Spirit Pact

Bang—!

A hurricane swept out from beneath Roland’s feet, transforming him into a blurred phantom as he charged toward Revis.

In the atmosphere, flashing sword light streaked continuously. Reaching Revis in an instant, Roland suddenly raised Est, not intending to give her even a moment to mount a counterattack.

But Revis was clearly not merely boasting. Facing an assault that even most Servants would struggle to react to, her blade-sharp gaze still precisely captured the trajectory of Roland’s line of sight.

She held her greatsword horizontally, letting vines—faster than her own conscious will—erupt to deflect Roland's onslaught.

Violent sonic booms that shook the earth rang out incessantly amidst their clash. Amidst afterimages that flickered like moon reflections on water, Revis and Roland were driven further and further away from the previous battlefield, rushing toward a more desolate and silent expanse.

Crystal light spilled down from the firmament, illuminating countless churning waves. They were flames—flames as crimson as fresh blood, as viscous as blood.

"Weak! Pathetic!"

Roland swung Est, and with every strike, soul-stirring radiance spilled forth from his body. At a combat level of Lv7, his raw attributes had officially surpassed those of many Servants, allowing Roland to cast aside all restraint and unleash his magic power without reservation.

This was the first time in battle that he had channeled the demonic energy derived from his fire magic and the Soul of the Demon so fluidly.

Rather than deliberately studying or developing one’s talents, or consciously practicing technique, surrendering oneself to instinct in the heat of a fully committed battle was the truest path to mastery. A single meaningful life-or-death struggle brings growth that no mere "leveling up" could ever match.

This is how it should be fought! No—rather, this is the only way it can be fought!

For the eight great demons who once ruled the world, were they academics who locked themselves away to study like those in the Clock Tower? No. One could not rule the world by hiding away to conduct research. Every Demon Sovereign was a pinnacle figure tempered in the fires of battle against the mages of the Righteous Side.

"BOOM—!"

Amidst the heart-pounding roars, the magic power Roland unleashed and the sword light of Est ignited everything around them. Even the crystals, which should not have burned, transformed into dazzling pillars of light before those flames.

The inferno rolled like endless ocean waves, whipping up surge after surge, carrying thick smoke that scoured away all filth in the vicinity.

"Damn you!"

Revis, who had just been boasting, now wore a face as twisted as a demon’s. In the battle thus far, it was not she who was fighting Roland, but the Void in her hand—fused with a magic stone and possessing its own life—instinctively resisting Roland’s attacks.

But now, the ripples stirred by those frantic, merciless flames were scorching everything. Even the air was twisted by the intense heat into multiple illusions. Aside from the ominous black smoke, all of Revis's escape routes were sealed.

In this purgatory where no life could stand, she could capture nothing but the silver, heroic sword shadows before her.

"I am the one chosen by her! How can this be!"

Amidst the crisscrossing sword light, the usually arrogant Revis could not help but turn pale. She grit her teeth against the physical agony, struggling to keep up with the incoming storm of blows, yet she could not endure the palpitations in her heart.

"Isn't the answer simple? Even if you call yourself a lifeform of a new world, deep down, you know the truth..."

Roland, however, used a mocking tone to reveal the answer she refused to acknowledge.

"Monkeys can never surpass humans, Revis! And to me, you are nothing more than a monkey!"

"What did you say!"

Revis was enraged. Though she appeared cold, her pride in being the "chosen one" exceeded that of anyone else. Her usual haughty attitude was the best proof of this; she had been so arrogant that she hadn't even wanted to draw the Void when first facing Ais.

"Didn't hear me? Then I shall be merciful and repeat it: Revis, compared to me, Roland, you are just a monkey!"

Roland’s lips curled into a playful arc, stained by the scene before him. Hot, scorching energy surged and washed over them, even plating the sacred blade of Est with a layer of crimson.

"And now, if this is all you have, you have no value to me!"

The moment Roland’s voice fell, he kicked off with both legs. The air screamed as it solidified under his feet, and with a roaring gust of wind, he transformed into a stream of light, striking directly at Revis’s throat.

The speed of this strike far surpassed anything before. Even though Revis had been waiting with her full attention, she could not react.

"BANG—!!!"

The blade slowly bent with a teeth-grinding, buzzing screech. The Void in Revis’s hand acted on its own to intercept the blow. Though it blocked the strike, the blade was left coated in a shimmering red hue, and the magic stone at the center of the hilt dimmed rapidly, its yellow-green flame flickering as if about to extinguish.

Watching the state of her Void, a bone-chilling sense of calm crawled up Revis’s spine. Though surrounded by a burning hell, she felt as if she had fallen into a ten-thousand-meter abyss. She could only feel a massive force and an omnipresent chill spreading through her; moving even a single finger felt agonizingly difficult.

She had underestimated the hero before her. Even without the Spirit, he was a genuine monster.

No, rather, he was far more terrifying than the holy sword forged by the Spirit.

At the beginning of the fight, his technique could only be called exquisite, but now, Revis felt that he might have touched the realm of the gods.

To the people of this world, such praise would be considered blasphemous, for even when gods sealed their powers, they remained gods. The God of the Forge could still craft weapons beyond the reach of the lower world; the God of War, even with a sealed body, possessed combat power rivaling high-level adventurers; the God of Wine could brew captivating divine nectar even with common materials.

Revis did not want to offer such praise to an enemy, but she could find no better description.

Among warriors, she was of the elite class. No matter the opponent, she could—like an excellent examinee—quickly find the logic and patterns to provide an answer. Every person’s technique had a style: heavy or nimble, using magic to support a stance or to create an opening, the inertia between combos—these things were traceable.

But Roland was different. The blade, almost impossible to track with the naked eye, left only beautiful traces in the air. His movements were not forceful; they were gentle and elegant. It did not feel like a battle, but rather like he was conducting his own orchestra on a stage, calm and confident. Every one of her counterattacks was treated by him as a predicted chord. That was how composed Roland felt to Revis.

Every downward stroke of his blade erupted into a grand performance.

"CRACK—!"

The magic stones embedded in Revis’s blade shattered one by one. The vines that had been dancing wildly were severed by the crimson radiance and consumed entirely. Before long, aside from the fetus-like gem on the hilt, the Void in her hand had no external help left.

There was only one chance!

She moved her body violently, and in a reversal, she detached the Void from the battle.

Immediately, the sword shadow, whistling with terrifying air pressure, descended.

Revis watched helplessly as that cold, silver-white blade pierced her chest and was pulled out with effortless grace.

But Revis did not panic. Before her body lost its strength, she slammed the dim Void into the location of her magic stone!

Suddenly, her body transformed into a mass of deformed flesh, using the sword hilt as an anchor. It climbed onto it rapidly, and in an instant, the high-tech-looking blade became incredibly twisted, its volume expanding continuously.

Only when it grew larger than Roland’s body did the blade stop its growth.

Yet, it did not fall; it floated eerily in the air. A mouth opened in the flesh surrounding the hilt.

"You forced my hand, Hero. I didn't want to use this form—it's irreversible, after all. But if I can finish you here, it will be worth it!"

As if her sanity had been affected, the once-cold Revis began to chatter in a joyful tone.

"Unlike you old-era lifeforms, as a Xenos, as long as my magic stone isn't destroyed instantly, I will be fine even with fatal wounds. And my Void can gain power by consuming magic stones! Therefore, as long as I completely abandon my original form and offer up my magic stone to become one with the Void, I will grow into a monster unmatched in this Dungeon!"

"I am far beyond Lv7 now! Among all the adventurers currently in Orario, I am invincible!"

"The intensity has certainly increased. A monster with a second form? The collision of different worlds truly has triggered some marvelous chemical reactions. However, this only makes me more interested in the true nature of that Contract Spirit."

Roland did not rush to attack. He scrutinized Revis, then shook his head and scoffed.

"It is a pity, though. Vitality that doesn't match one's strength is nothing but a waste."

The undisguised contempt in these words enraged Revis once more.

She was now a living blade, a new existence that subverted the form of Dungeon monsters. Compared to her, no matter how strong Roland was, there was a fundamental difference in their life forms that no technique could bridge!

"I will kill you!"

Revis twisted her blade tip and, with a speed no less than Roland’s previous pace, struck out like a meteor!

"Give up the resistance. The reason I shifted the battlefield was precisely because I considered this worst-case scenario. No one can come to help you!"

"Is that so... Then we really thought of the same thing. After all, while playing the hero is fun, I do want to stretch my body once in a while."

Roland’s lips split open, revealing a savage grin.

He took a step toward Revis and reached out his hand. With that motion, it sounded as if something had been shattered—the crisp chime of breaking glass.

During this process, Roland’s physique expanded continuously; his muscles bulged rapidly, and a layer of tough, smooth scales covered his fair skin.

The horns on his head curled naturally, like a noble crown, and a thick tail extended from his back, lashing about. The hand he extended was also covered in muscle and scales; the joints grew, and the fingertips curled slowly, gleaming with sharpness. "Claw" was a more fitting term than "hand." He accurately grasped the hilt of Revis's blade, swung it twice, and brought the living weapon under his control.

Having returned to his true form, Roland gripped the blade, his grin still fixed on his face. However, due to the change in his features, his mouth had stretched to his ears, revealing layers upon layers of sharp teeth that shimmered with a cold, meat-grinder-like edge.

He stared at the blade in his hand with tyrannical, evil, crimson pupils and let out a sigh of satisfaction.

"Whew, it feels good to be back."

Revis, who had just been ferocious, was now as powerless as a sheep. The power she possessed that could shake the earth could not even escape the palm of Roland’s hand.

"Dragon... You are neither a god nor a hero!"

Thus, she could only twist her blade body continuously, like a willow swaying in the wind.

Revis roared constantly, but given the overwhelming gap in strength, even the act of resistance seemed adorable.

Roland, however, grew impatient. He flicked Revis—now in his hand—casually. The force was so great that it caused a boom in the air like an explosion. This single movement left Revis dazed and confused, her consciousness blurring for an instant.

"Stop struggling. It’s hard to control one's strength when trying not to crush an ant underfoot."

After spitting out the cold words, the mark of the Sheep Talisman flashed in Roland’s eyes.

Realizing that her soul was being invaded, Revis instinctively wanted to struggle. Having become a living blade, she and the Void had become one. Thus, while she understood some soul-level power, their reaction speed was much faster than before.

But before that invisible divine power, she remained unable to move; even her voice could not be emitted. She could only vent her wild rage within her heart.

Move, my body! Why won't you move!

But no matter what turbulent waves Revis felt in her heart, her body remained unresponsive, a dead silence, as if she were truly nothing more than a sword.

"Now, let me see, let me take a look..."

After stripping away Revis’s consciousness, Roland began to search for the traces left by the Contract Spirit in the depths of her memories.

Surprisingly, Revis’s exploration progress even exceeded that of the Loki Familia; she had already reached the fifty-ninth floor. And in the depths of this floor, Roland finally saw the location of the Contract Spirit.

It was a violet space. In a cavern similar to the previous floor-boss rooms, but many times wider, the surroundings were filled with purple-black crystals resembling stalactites, densely distributed across the walls.

Above the stairs formed by these purple crystals lay a floating platform and a wide, flat bridge.

Atop the platform, purple-black crystals clustered as well, but they did not appear chaotic; instead, they were stacked into a curious shape, like a throne forged from angular crystal flowers.

And above the throne stood a massive, translucent purple crystal.

Inside the crystal, a young girl was sleeping with her eyes closed.

This was the first time Roland had seen an escaped Contract Spirit with a physical form. However, more than that, the girl’s appearance made him narrow his eyes slightly.

She had fair skin, perfect features, and rare, pale pink hair as quiet and elegant as cherry blossoms.

Then, as if sensing Roland’s gaze—

—the girl sleeping within the crystal slowly opened her crimson eyes.