Chapter 166: Creating the Truth (1)
Revolution.
It was an unfamiliar word, but not an unknown one. Niobe dug into the hazy recesses of her memory.
She had heard it during the early stages of Blasphemia’s ideological training, specifically during the lessons on historical perspective. It was a prelude, a part of history that was rarely explored in detail — the era before the Ten Towers were established.
The Mage King had shattered the old order — a palace of corruption erected by the so-called “cultists” who now bore the label of “superstition followers” — and established a new system.
Their power had been bestowed by the heavens, or at least that’s how they justified it. Divine right. A heavenly mandate. But as they clung to this absolute authority, it began to rot. Society crumbled from the inside out.
That’s when the Mage King appeared.
He rallied the warlords to his cause and stood against the priests who ruled from on high. He promulgated magic as a counterforce to the divine powers of “Holy Incantations” and “Divine Spirits,” the supernatural tools of the priests.
A cataclysmic upheaval in society, institutions, and the order of the world.
A radical resistance against the entrenched power of the era.
A violent transformation of the old mandate (天命) into something new (革新).
The Ten Towers called it by one name:
Revolution.
“Senior… Do you understand what that word really means?”
Revolution begins with a rejection of the prevailing order — the paradigm that defines society itself.
If the Mage King’s target had been the priesthood, then…
“Of course I do,” Orthes replied with absolute certainty.
It was clear to Niobe what he intended. The revolution he sought would be aimed squarely at the Ten Towers, the ones who monopolized the Commandments.
“Niobe. Do you have a dream?”
Dream.
She was silent.
Niobe had always been a simple person. Why had she joined Blasphemia?
Because she was hungry.
Panoptes offered food and shelter to volunteers, and since age wasn’t a barrier to learning magic, she had been allowed to enlist. Her magical talent was discovered by chance. She had the sensitivity to detect reliquaries and the physical aptitude to endure Blasphemia’s cybernetic implants.
Her life shifted from the lowest ranks of the Argos to becoming a full-fledged agent of Blasphemia.
Her “dream” back then had been nothing more than survival — to eat and to live.
Blasphemia relieved her of her hunger but not her fear of death.
So she thought: “If I do well as an agent, I might be recruited by one of the Ten Towers someday.”
She clung to that dream. It wasn’t unheard of for exceptional field agents to be recruited by a Magic Tower. It was rare, but not impossible.
Others might have refused such an opportunity to remain in Blasphemia and aim for higher positions. But Niobe wasn’t like them.
Her dream was simple.
To escape from the endless cycle of survival.
She wanted to one day live a life where she could think about what it truly meant to live.
She believed that once she joined one of the Ten Towers, she could finally begin to dream.
Perhaps, she thought, she could study magic not as a tool of survival but as an ideal, like the magic of fairy tales and legends.
Blasphemia’s teachings had been cold and pragmatic. Magic was not an ideal but a tool. A weapon. A means of control. The only kind of magic she had ever touched was the kind meant for killing, subjugating, and interrogating.
But the Ten Towers — their magic had to be different.
Or so she believed.
She believed that if she entered the Ten Towers, she would live a life unlike any she’d known before.
But it was an illusion.
Behind the illusion lay the hard, dried stains of blood.
When Orthes asked about her dreams, she couldn’t answer.
Her dream had crumbled before it even began.
Perhaps, she thought, her dream had been filthier than reality.
“You seem hesitant. Then I’ll go first,” Orthes said.
Niobe studied his face. As usual, his eyes were unreadable, hidden beneath a squint. His face was calm, and he spoke with his usual mild smile.
“I wanted to change the world.”
“…What?”
“I mean it. This world.”
His words carried the weight of conviction.
“While the threat of the extra-dimension looms over us, the Towers do nothing. Sure, they stabilize the dimensional rifts with mana cores, but after that? They do nothing. I thought it was because they didn’t have the resources. I believed that.”
Orthes shrugged.
He had believed that if the Towers weren’t wasting their strength fighting off cultists and doomsday zealots, they might have the capacity to protect the world better.
“I was wrong. I’ve made quite a contribution tracking down Argyrion. I’ve saved their precious Towers. But did I change anything? Did it improve the system in any way?”
The answer was no.
From the Ten Towers, to the Regular Magic Towers, to the Minor Magic Towers, to individual mages, and finally to the common citizens — the chain of control remained unbroken.
And the lives of the common people, at the bottom of the chain, never changed.
“The magical elite claw their way up the chain, but they don’t break it,” Orthes muttered.
“Now we know the truth. The Ten Towers never intended to create a better world. From the very beginning, their only goal was to reach Ascension. They’re pilgrims chasing an unreachable dream, obsessed with the idea of rising to heaven.”
“…So what?” Niobe asked.
Her heart was starting to pound.
“What do you want to do about it?”
Orthes leaned forward, his voice calm but firm.
“Change it.”
He placed a slip of paper on the table.
It was a calculation.
It was a detailed estimate of the amount of magic generated by the Commandments and the mana required to sustain the current magical world.
Niobe recognized it immediately.
“Everyone knows that. The Commandments have infinite mana.”
“Everyone knows it, yes. But have they considered what would happen if that infinite mana was no longer monopolized? If it was shared with the world, what would happen?”
Orthes’ eyes gleamed with certainty.
“With the energy of the Commandments alone, we could transform the entire world into something like Elysion — a purified, extra-dimensional haven. And that’s a conservative estimate.”
The revelation was staggering.
Her mind reeled at the possibilities.
The vast majority of mana from the Commandments was hoarded by researchers in the Ten Towers. They used it to fuel their pursuit of Ascension.
But what if that limitless energy was set free?
“Let’s release it. No more Ten Towers. No more hoarding.”
“…That’s insane.” Niobe shook her head. “To pull that off, you’d need to seize every Commandment. You know that, right? You’d have to fight the Ten Towers themselves.”
“Correct,” Orthes said. “But there’s only one moment in time when that’s possible.”
He laid it out plainly.
The Ten Towers were about to launch an expedition against Argyrion. The vast majority of their forces would be tied up. It was the one chance to seize the Commandments.
It was the only moment in history when a revolution could succeed.
But still, Niobe had doubts.
Even if they seized the Commandments, what then?
“Do you think the ones holding the Commandments will just give them up?” she asked.
“Not easily. But only those who have truly grown sick of power can give up power.”
Orthes leaned back and sighed.
He admitted that he didn’t have what it took to be the leader of a revolution. He’d be too greedy, he said.
“But if you want my honest opinion, I think I’ve already found someone who could.”
“…Who?”
Orthes locked eyes with her.
Niobe’s breath caught in her throat.
“No… No way. Not me!”
“Why not?” Orthes grinned. “You’re one of the rare people who has no desire for power.”
From his coat, he pulled out another document.
It was a plan to take control of Blasphemia.
“…This is crazy.”
“You’re perfect, Niobe. You don’t seek power. That makes you the only one I can trust to give it up.”
His voice was steady, calm, and deadly serious.
“Help me, Niobe. Let’s create something new. No upstream, no downstream.”
“…Then what’s left?” she asked.
Orthes smiled.
“A sea.”