ushernet Chapter 170: Even Gods Fall
Chapter 170: Even Gods Fall
"Zephiron."
"I wish for you to reach the Summit with me."
A man with long white hair stood beside him.
His silver-white hair flowed gently in the wind, reaching past his shoulders. Unlike Zephiron’s imposing presence, the man looked calm and approachable. There was always a relaxed smile on his face, as though nothing in existence could truly trouble him.
Yet Zephiron knew better.
Beneath that smile was one of the strongest beings their universe had ever produced.
The man crossed his arms and looked toward the endless staircase leading upward.
"After the Tenth Floor, we’ll be competing against Stream Hunters from other universes."
His voice carried a hint of curiosity.
"Do you still think we’ll remain the strongest?"
Zephiron laughed, a proud laugh.
"The strongest?"
He shook his head.
"It does not matter."
The white-haired man raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
"If they are stronger than us, then we’ll surpass them."
Zephiron’s eyes burned with confidence.
"If they stand above us, we’ll climb higher."
"And if they try to stop us?"
"We crush them."
The man burst into laughter.
"You really do say the most ridiculous things."
Zephiron smirked.
"And yet you’ve followed me this far."
The white-haired man sighed dramatically.
"Unfortunately, made the mistake of becoming your friend."
And so the two continued climbing.
Eleventh Floor.
Fourteenth Floor.
Twentieth Floor.
Thirty-Seventh Floor.
Fiftieth Floor.
Each trial became more difficult than the last.
The enemies they faced became stronger and the universes they encountered became stranger.
Entire worlds rose and fell around them, yet the two continued climbing together.
Whenever Zephiron charged recklessly into danger, his friend dragged him back.
Whenever his friend made foolish plans, Zephiron solved them through force.
They argued, they fought, they laughed.
And they climbed.
Slowly, they became legends.
Their names spread across countless worlds and their universe celebrated them as heroes.
The entire universe believed they would one day stand at the Summit together.
And perhaps they would have had Zephiron not begun changing.
The higher he climbed, the stronger he became.
The stronger he became, the more people praised him.
The more people praised him, the more he began believing his own legend.
Eventually, he no longer viewed himself as a climber.
He viewed himself as someone destined to win, someone destined to stand above all others!
Then the Ninety-Eighth Floor came.
For the first time in countless years... Zephiron failed.
A moment of arrogance and a single wrong decision was all it took.
He had charged forward, believing he could handle the challenge alone.
Believing that victory was already guaranteed because he was "invincible."
Though he was wrong, he was not the one who paid the price.
Instead, the consequences was ultimately given to the precious friend that he had climbed along with instead.
Zephiron still remembered the sight of the lifeless body in front of him along with his fading smile.
The white-haired man had not cursed him, nor had not blamed him.
Instead, his final words had been something etched deep within Zephiron’s memories.
"Looks like..."
A weak laugh escaped his lips.
"You finally messed up."
Truly, for once in his life, Zephiron felt fear and loss.
The following days were a blur.
Grief became anger.
Anger became obsession.
And obsession became madness.
Thus, standing before the gates of the Ninety-Ninth Floor, Zephiron challenged the Tower itself.
"If I conquer the Ninety-Ninth Floor and prove myself the strongest among all climbers..."
His voice shook the heavens.
"You will return him to me."
The manifestation of the Tower of Yxthar silently listened.
"And if I fail..."
Zephiron clenched his fists.
"I will surrender all three authorities of my universe."
The "Tower" remained silent.
For a brief moment, Zephiron expected resistance or mockery towards his silly claims.
Instead, the Tower accepted almost immediately.
Only later did he understand why...
Because the Ninety-Ninth Floor was special.
The Viewers called it many names.
The Floor of Champions.
The Gathering of Prodigies.
The Throne Before the Summit.
It was a place where monsters among monsters gathered.
The strongest climbers from countless universes eventually arrived there.
If one truly believed they were special... Eventually, they would reach the Ninety-Ninth Floor.
And there, reality would judge that belief.
Zephiron entered that floor carrying absolute confidence.
After all, he possessed all three authorities of his universe.
He had conquered impossible trials and defeated countless enemies and surpassed nearly every climber he had encountered.
Surely he was special.
Surely he could win.
Surely he could bring his friend back.
Then he arrived.
And for the first time in his life...
He saw true monsters.
Beings who had accomplished things beyond imagination.
Beings whose existence made his achievements seem ordinary.
Beings who carried burdens greater than entire universes.
Beings who possessed talents that made his own appear insignificant.
For the first time, Zephiron understood.
He was not special.
Not among them.
Not among the endless possibilities of existence.
Not among the countless universes contained within the Tower.
He fought.
And he lost.
Completely.
Overwhelmingly.
Hopelessly.
The wager was fulfilled.
The authorities of his universe were stripped away.
The world began to collapse.
Civilizations vanished.
Gods died.
Reality itself shattered.
And in the end...
He gained nothing.
His friend remained dead.
His universe was ruined.
His people suffered.
All because of a single selfish wish.
A wish born from pride.
And so Zephiron became the Storm Tyrant.
Not a conqueror.
Not a champion.
But a reminder.
A monument to arrogance.
A guardian forever trapped in the ruins of the world he had destroyed.
...
Hearing Adam’s words, Zephiron could not help but fall into thought.
His gaze lingered on Adam’s calm expression. The young man’s black hair flowed freely with the wind as he stood above the dark waters.
For a brief moment, Zephiron saw someone else.
A memory.
A ghost from a life long gone.
His lips parted.
"...Sylas?"
Adam remained silent.
Whether he understood what Zephiron was thinking or simply chose not to comment, Zephiron could not tell.
"Hahaha..."
A self-deprecating laugh escaped his mouth.
It was a laugh filled with exhaustion.
A laugh that had been buried beneath countless years of pride.
[Numerous Viewers are looking in pity at Zephiron’s state]
Zephiron ignored them.
Even Adam quietly disabled his Stream System. He had no desire to let the viewers turn the final moments of a fallen god into entertainment.
For a while, neither spoke.
Then Zephiron finally broke the silence.
"Do you think I am a fool for making that wager with the Tower of Yxthar?"
Adam shook his head.
Zephiron let out another laugh.
"Surely you jest."
His gaze drifted toward the dark sky.
"The Tower of Yxthar possesses countless authorities. There are powers capable of seeing into the future, powers capable of observing endless possibilities."
His voice grew quieter.
"How could I not have known the odds?"
"How could I not have known I would likely lose?"
"Only a fool would make a bet he knows he cannot win."
Adam looked at him.
"But what else were you supposed to do?"
Zephiron glanced back.
Adam’s voice remained calm.
"What was the alternative?"
"Accept your companion’s death?"
The words struck deeper than any attack.
Zephiron fell silent.
Although the version of history recorded within the Tower was likely different from the truth Adam knew, there was one thing he was certain about.
Zephiron had truly loved his friend.
Perhaps not romantically.
Perhaps not in any way mortals would easily understand.
But he had cared.
Deeply.
Enough to gamble an entire universe.
Enough to destroy himself.
Enough to spend countless years regretting it.
Eventually, Zephiron smiled.
A small smile.
A genuine one.
"Hahaha..."
"The more you speak, the more you sound like him."
He lowered his head slightly.
"You are right."
"Among the countless possibilities that existed before me, I simply chose to believe in myself."
His voice was steady.
"Even knowing what I know now..."
"I would still make the same choice."
The dark waters rippled below.
"I would wager everything again."
His smile weakened.
"Just to have another chance to bring him back."
For a brief moment, silence returned.
Then Zephiron spoke again.
"Even if I had succeeded..."
A faint chuckle escaped him.
"He would have scolded me."
"He cared about our world far more than I ever did."
His eyes drifted toward the shattered remains of the Seventh Floor.
"But me?"
"I never cared about the universe."
"I only cared about him."
Adam remained silent.
There was nothing he could say to that.
After a while, he finally asked:
"You don’t wish to climb the Summit with me, do you?"
Zephiron slowly nodded.
"I’m tired."
There was no arrogance left in his voice.
No pride.
No fury.
No defiance.
Only exhaustion.
The kind of exhaustion that could not be healed by rest.
No one knew how long Zephiron had served as a Floor Boss.
If the Guardian of the Sixth Floor had existed for millions of years, then how much longer had the Storm Tyrant remained trapped here?
Watching.
Waiting.
Remembering.
Regretting.
Eventually, Zephiron lifted his head and looked at Adam one final time.
His expression was unreadable.
Perhaps he was seeing Sylas.
Perhaps he was seeing a foolish mortal.
Or perhaps, for the first time in a very long while, he was looking toward a future he would never witness.
The lightning around his body slowly faded.
The divine energy sustaining him disappeared.
His regeneration gradually came to a halt.
The wounds across his body stopped healing.
And little by little, life left his eyes.
The Storm Tyrant did not die in battle.
Nor did he die screaming in defiance.
He simply stopped holding on.
The wind grew quiet.
The waters calmed.
And the ancient god closed his eyes.
[The Floor Boss has given up their will to fight.]