Chapter 178: 『White Light』
Carisia moved forward without hesitation. It wasn’t a sprint—such haste was inefficient.
Inefficient for killing.
Inside White Light Tower, Carisia unleashed her instant-kill magic, perfected long ago during her battles against Argyrion in Elysion.
Even as a member of the Ten Towers, no mage could claim to know every magic in existence—least of all Carisia’s. Her magic was a self-written magic, a spell she had personally invented, completely unknown to the world.
Only two individuals were aware of its existence: the Argyrion members who had died to it, and Orthes.
Thus, Carisia could strike fatally at any mage who laid eyes on her. The activation condition of her spell was simple: perceiving Carisia.
That was why she didn’t run.
The mages rushing to stop her marveled at the overwhelming power she radiated. They were astonished that someone could wield such immense magic even within the influence of the Ten Commandments.
And the moment they saw her—they died.
Her spell fried their optic nerves and, beyond that, scorched their brains directly. Within seconds, a dozen mages dropped dead, unable to even react to the spell.
Their response was swift.
Clearly, Carisia hadn’t used this magic outside the tower. The main difference between her behavior inside and outside? The presence or absence of allies.
The mages formulated a hypothesis: the spell must indiscriminately attack everyone in its range, friend or foe.
They cautiously fell back, out of its perceived range. Instead of risking direct confrontation, they sent in swarms of drones to analyze her magic.
Mechanical beasts shaped like quadrupeds, along with simplistic cylindrical suicide drones, flooded toward Carisia. White Light's automated forces surged to confront her.
Carisia quickly canceled her spell, but it was too late. Several drones that had visually detected her exploded, their sensory circuits destroyed.
The mages of White Light had deduced the spell’s mechanism.
They would no longer rely on visible light to track her. Instead, they would shift to indirect methods like sonic detection.
It was time for a change in strategy.
"Like White Light."
Carisia raised her hand, her magic enveloping the area. The mages tensed, but the spell she cast was a simple, elementary one.
Telekinesis.
The shattered remains of the drones floated into the air, caught in her magical grasp.
Her intent was difficult to decipher. A physical projectile attack? Such a primitive method would never break through White Light’s defenses.
Still, the mages couldn’t hide their tension.
Since her incursion began, they had failed to launch a proper counterattack—more accurately, a proper magical counterattack.
It was possible to operate pre-enchanted drones and activate the tower’s automated defensive spells. But any attempt to directly cast magic at Carisia had failed.
This failure wasn’t due to a lack of effort or skill. It was magical interference—an extraordinary ability that disrupted the spells aimed at her.
Every single spell cast by dozens of White Light’s mages dissolved into nothingness at the exact moment of activation.
It was a terrifying display of precision and control.
Even though White Light’s elders had been deployed outside to protect the outer barriers, the remaining mages within the tower weren’t ordinary. Any one of them could easily suppress a mage from outside the Ten Towers.
And yet, dozens of these skilled mages had been rendered useless by Carisia’s simple gestures, their spells unraveling before they could take form.
The only effective attacks were those pre-programmed into drones or artifacts. But the artifacts couldn’t be used recklessly—they were reserved for moments when they could be guaranteed to strike their target.
***
Inside White Light’s Ether Space, the mages communicated via virtual cognition.
Cut off from the elders outside, the senior disciples coordinated their efforts, seeking a way to overcome Carisia’s interference.
The conclusion they reached was straightforward:
Simple attacks, like telekinetic projectiles, were the only viable option.
Sophisticated magic would be neutralized before completion. Carisia’s interference was akin to a divine technique, exploiting the brief window between a spell’s casting and its completion.
But telekinetic attacks were different—too simple to be disrupted. They required minimal preparation and could be executed instantly.
***
The mages, now resolved, began using telekinesis themselves, gathering debris from the surrounding area to prepare a counterattack.
Only a few seconds had passed since Carisia first cast her telekinetic spell.
But Carisia didn’t attack them with her gathered debris.
A flash of light.
The lead mage collapsed with a startled gasp, a clean hole pierced through his forehead.
Another flash. Another mage fell.
The method was eerily familiar. These were the results of White Light’s own signature laser attacks—the same devastation they had inflicted on countless enemies.
But there was a problem.
The angle of the attack was wrong.
Analysis of the drone footage revealed that the beams hadn’t originated from Carisia’s position. They had been fired from behind the mages.
Another enemy? A traitor within the tower?
The mages scrambled to activate their Ether Space-linked detection devices to locate the attacker.
And the truth was revealed.
Carisia’s telekinetically controlled shards of metal were the source.
Thousands—perhaps tens of thousands—of metallic fragments floated around her, precisely positioned to act as mirrors. She continuously manipulated their positions, using them as reflectors to redirect her beams in real time.
By constantly adjusting the angles of the reflections, she overcame the natural limitation of light traveling in straight lines, making her laser attacks nearly impossible to block.
No matter where they deployed defensive magic, she could instantly alter the trajectory of her beams to strike a vital point.
It was a murder spell at the speed of light, a method that shattered the conventional understanding of laser-based attacks.
Carisia looked toward the summit.
With the elders absent, resistance from the remaining disciples was meaningless.
Still, the tower lord had yet to appear. Was this deliberate provocation? Or were they preparing something to break the barrier isolating the tower from the outside world?
“Whatever the case, I’ll find out when I get there,” Carisia murmured.
The killing light began to dance wildly, tearing through the remaining mages blocking her path.
Carisia advanced, systematically crushing the morale of the mages who dared to stand against her.
She felt the presence of pursuers behind her but paid them no mind. The rear was Orthes’ responsibility, along with the forces of Hydra Corporation.
Her opponent awaited at the summit.
She ascended the final steps—
And came face to face with her.
Carisia recognized the truth immediately.
The tower lord wasn’t merely a symbol of White Light.
She was White Light.
One of the ten disciples of the Mage King, the original master of the light attribute, and the namesake of White Light Tower.
The first betrayer.
She had never been defeated in a succession war, nor had she ever passed on her title. She had achieved immortality.
The Mage King, betrayed by his disciples, left a final curse within the Ten Commandments—a spell to dominate the flesh of the tower lords.
It was this very spell that inspired White Light’s immortality. By engraving her soul into the infinite capacity of her Ten Commandments, she transcended the limits of human life.
But immortality wasn’t her only goal.
To ascend, both body and soul had to reach perfection.
Her soul, immortal and sublime, was now equal to the Mage King’s in spiritual stature.
What remained was the body—she required the divine vessel of the Mage King, one capable of commanding all attributes of magic and mana.
When body and soul both reached the pinnacle, White Light would finally achieve ascension.
Carisia knew this from the memories that had been forced upon her.
Carisia and White Light stood motionless, like mirrored reflections of each other. In their eyes, the other’s figure was endlessly repeated, like an infinite hall of mirrors.
The silence stretched, feeling eternal.
It was Carisia who broke it first.
“Do you remember me?”
White Light slowly opened her mouth.
“They haven’t moved. I suppose their focus lies elsewhere.”
Carisia’s eyebrow twitched.
White Light hadn’t answered her question. She was speaking to herself, as though Carisia wasn’t even there.
It wasn’t dialogue—it was monologue, dismissing Carisia’s existence entirely.
The Carisia of the past would have already erupted with rage. But not now.
This battle wasn’t just about her. Orthes remained.
Carisia smirked coldly.
“Too old to hear me properly, are you? Don’t worry—I’ll send you off soon enough.”
Above her shoulder, light began to gather. A spell of focused light, a condensed beam attack crafted in White Light’s own image.
The tower lord spoke as she observed.
“I didn’t think Blasphemia would kill you. And it seems they didn’t.”
Her voice was mechanical, devoid of warmth, and her faint smile was chilling.
“My daughter.”
Carisia’s jaw clenched. No one in this world had the right to call her daughter. It was a deliberate provocation.
“I’ve come to destroy you, White Light.”
“Is that what you desire?”
“Of course.”
“Then do it.”
White Light’s tone mirrored Carisia’s, eerily similar to the way she had just said “of course.”
“If you can.”
Carisia whispered to the rage boiling within her:
This is just the prelude.
The real battle begins the moment Orthes arrives.