1,000,000 Karma: My Reward Is a Quiet Life-Chapter 102: Stairway To Heaven

"Fascinating may you be, all will be learned once you’re assimilated, Noah Soul." 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

It felt as though his very essence was being spun into one, singular point; his organs cried and his bones began to crack beneath the inexplicable pressure–

"That’s quite enough of that."

For once, a look of perplexity found itself on the Primordial’s face, tilting its head back just as a shower of light rained down. It brought radiance to the bloodied city; the countless hundreds of shards of illuminance parted the despair.

Noah looked up, discovering a sight that fueled his exhausted body with a sense of hope: a masculine figure with long, silver hair hovering above the cityscape.

At a snap of the unknown one’s fingers, the manipulated land of flesh all turned to pristine glass.

"Oh?" The Primordial observed with genuine curiosity.

Between the young man and the otherworldly entity, the illustrious figure of platinum hair descended. While Noah considered himself a "novice" when it came to magecraft, even he found no mistake in sensing the quantity of mana coming from the man.

It was simply infinite; at least, it appeared to be a well with no bottom to observe.

["In the world of Gaios, those that stand at the pinnacle of their craft are granted a divine title—"Saint." Peerless, without equal, the Saints represent the highest degree of strength among mortals."]

[The Saint of Magic, Merlin]

"Primordial, you do not belong in this realm. Take your leave now," the Saint of Magic demanded, folding his arms in front of his chest.

Except for merely the loose fabric that bore the complexion of the cosmos, Merlin was bare chested.

"No being in this realm has authority over me," the Primordial answered. "The Gods will not descend from the Heavens to aid you."

While the malice of the malignant entity could be felt through the air, Noah’s eyes stayed fixated on the sudden aid.

"You there," the Saint of Magic addressed, only then glancing back at the blood-soaked adventurer. "You’ve done well to hold your own for this long."

"Hold my own...? Not sure about that," Noah caught his breath. "That thing is insanely powerful. I can’t hurt it—not with any attack I use."

"That’s to be expected when dealing with a Primordial. That grotesque thing you’re looking at is nothing more than its avatar," Merlin explained, sitting on the air as though it were a surface.

"An avatar?"

"There’s few things that can affect a being like that one. The most effective way is Divine power, though there are other ways," Merlin explained, holding his hand out. "Prepare yourself. Things are about to get chaotic."

"It wasn’t already—?" Noah questioned.

At the turn of the Saint’s wrist, reality itself seemed to contort; the skies shifted into an ocean of shining cobalt.

["Magecraft is " will" given form by mana. Intent is manifested through meticulous craftsmanship of the arcana, allowing for endless possibilities. However, it is limited by one’s understanding and innate talent.

For the Saint of Magic, however, it is as natural as breathing."]

Noah looked around, recognizing nothing of the cityscape that had once again completely altered. Giant bubbles floated in the air, and the buildings once turned to visceral meat became objects of glistening marble.

A beautiful scenery enough to move even his heart in such trying times; he witnessed the sheer majesty of the Saint’s craft.

The Primordial stood there within the crater in observation, looking up at one of the translucent bubbles, "I see. You’ve placed a contained reality over this region to counteract my own authority over this space."

"It’s one way to harm something like you," Merlin responded, snapping his fingers.

At the gesture made by the pinnacle of all mages, light took shape within the sublime realm; a thousand blades formed in the air, forged of a majestic glow.

["Multiplicity"] ["Lock-On"] ["Lightning Infusion"] ["Explosion Infusion"]

Layering spells upon the army of weapons in the sky, the Saint of Magic brought his hand down, commanding the enchanted blades to rain down on the Primordial. Noah watched, looking up as the shining beacons of emerald light descended onto the singular point, each landing with explosions of electric force.

["It was the mere wave of a hand, and thus enough force to wipe out an army was called down. And yet—"]

Beneath the sparking smoke, a pulsating mass was unveiled. A giant sphere of meat flexed, gushing blood before dissolving to reveal the unscathed entity beneath.

"Hmm," Merlin glanced back. "This one is problematic, isn’t he?"

"Yeah...I’ve noticed that, too," Noah agreed breathlessly.

The Saint of Magic looked uninterested entirely by the ordeal, snapping his fingers once again—

In the blink of an eye, sentinels of glass and bubbles ascended around the city. The soldiers of unconventional elements surrounded the Primordial, leaving no avenue of escape. While the assault commenced, the Saint turned around while hovering over the ground, facing the confounded adventurer.

"You," Merlin addressed. "In terms of combat strength, you’re not far off from a Cosmic rank."

"How can you—?"

"That’s not important right now," Merlin answered before the question could even be asked, staring intently at the young man with his kaleidoscope eyes. "That thing still sees us as mere ants relative to itself. So, it’s taking us lightly–that’s good."

While they conversed, the titans of glass and bubbles swarmed the Primordial’s position, only to be swept through by tendrils of flesh, each lashing out with the quickness of a serpent’s lunge. Watching how the entity defended itself, the idea of it merely "playing" proved true to Noah’s eyes; the Primordial didn’t move a single step, nor did its expression shift with panic or fear–it simply countered.

"If you don’t mind me asking, who are you?" Noah asked amidst the chaotic situation. "I can tell–you’re a cut above anybody else I’ve met."

"Then your observation skills have not failed you," the platinum-haired man answered. "I am the Saint of Magic, Merlin."

’He’s a Saint...That’s a relief,’ the thought filled his mind, though he stopped himself from feeling too optimistic, considering what they were up against.

"I’m going to imbue you with a spell—one I’ve woven on my own—that will allow you to combat that grotesque thing," Merlin explained, holding a glistening, golden light in his hand.

"Sure, but...You’re way stronger than I am, so—"

"That may be correct, but I’m not a specialist in direct, close-quarters combat," Merlin explained with a wave of his hand.

"Even so, what sort of spell would even close a gap like that?" Noah asked, watching in the distance as the elementals were wiped out.

Merlin held a silent confidence, "One I’ve devoted decades to. This spell will grant you a temporary title of Sainthood—a Psuedo-Saint, I like to think of it."

"Sainthood? Me?"

"It’ll elevate the craft you’re considered most adept at and ascend you to the threshold of a Saint. Are you ready?" The Saint of Magic asked, holding out the divine light.

"Hit me with it."

As his consent was given, the bountiful light was gifted to him, or rather, shoved into his very soul—

["Stairway To Heaven"]

["...The Saint of Magic neglected to warn the unknowing adventurer of one, significant stipulation to the spell:

To ninety-nine point nine percent of the world, it would fail. Failure would also result in the spontaneous, brutal death of the recipient. A requirement for its success was that the target possessed a powerful body, and the innate talent to one day reach Sainthood."]

Throughout his body, each cell ascended; strength far beyond his comprehension flooded the fibers of his being. His very soul was engulfed in sublimity, denouncing all mediocrity for mastery itself.

As his eyes opened, a golden sheen embedded itself in his irises. Within his hand, the axe he clutched vibrated with anticipation.

["Axe" Proficiency +999]

The ascension was complete—Noah Soul temporarily held the mantle of one higher than any other:

["The Saint of Axes"]

"Magnifient," Merlin clapped his hands together. "You’ve awakened a rather fascinating possibility. What is your name, traveler?"

"Noah," he gave. "Noah Soul."

"Noah Soul," the Saint of Magic repeated. "Let us witness what your Sainthood is capable of. I’ll back you up, so–let loose."

"Right," Noah agreed. "I can do that."

With a single stride, he covered multiple blocks of the ever-shifting cityscape. In his path, the Primordial intercepted his step with a raise of its hand. At the behest of the impervious being, mountains of flesh rose, given form through colossal creatures taking the shape of blood-red dragons. Multiple of the grotesque creations rivaled mountains in size, while other stood the height of skyscrapers–

He swung his axe, a league away from any of the flesh-formed creatures. As the sable blade passed through the wind, its authority spoke through space, cutting cleanly through it and forth:

[World-Chop]

–The stampede of colossal beasts was split evenly through the middle by the obscene range of the strike. In the very same path of the axe’s swing, a dozen buildings were separated at the middle, leaving a chunk of the city collapsing while the wind hissed by.

Noah paused for just a moment, in awe of the result of such a simple gesture, one he performed countless times by now.