Drawing my sword, I take a step forward.
In that instant, the tower's reaction shifts.
It begins to vibrate violently, radiating power into the surroundings.
The prostrating people rise in terror, screaming as they rush toward the tower.
(Not good.)
I cast a spell, erecting several barriers to block their path.
This prevents them from being absorbed by the tower.
I cannot afford to let any more lives be lost.
Before long, a thick miasma billows up from the tower.
Suddenly, golden tentacles erupt, shattering the ground.
They burst out from all directions, seizing people and absorbing them.
Not a drop of blood is left behind; the consumption is utterly clean.
The false god had spread itself beneath the earth like the roots of a tree.
A concealment so profound even I failed to notice it.
Perhaps while it remained motionless, it was impossible to detect.
(Fully outplayed. Was this a trap?)
Before I can dwell on regret, the golden tentacles lunge for me as well.
I cut down the simultaneous assault with my inherited sword.
Direct contact with the tendrils is far too dangerous.
Even I would likely be absorbed should they touch me.
Because you're absorbed as a whole, you cannot be revived by another undead.
Rushing in with sweet hopes of success, you'll be killed in an instant.
(My best bet is to cut them down. Defending poorly would only backfire.)
Making that instant judgment, I swung my heirloom sword, slicing off the tentacles.
However, the tentacles continued to approach, maintaining their overwhelming density.
Their numbers showed no sign of decreasing.
No matter how many I cut, more kept sprouting from the ground.
In the meantime, people were still being absorbed.
(At this rate, it'll be too late. I can't afford to take my time.)
Feeling a surge of panic, I tried to close the distance in one go with transference magic.
But the spell didn't activate properly.
My internal mana was in disarray.
Undoubtedly, the tower's influence.
Despite all the protective measures in place, they still weren't enough.
It seemed advanced magic was currently restricted.
Casting a forbidden spell also looked impossible.
Reluctantly, I resorted to a different kind of magic.
It was an intermediate spell infused with withered energy and mana.
A rain of varied long-range attacks poured down upon the golden tower and the tentacles.
Though immensely destructive, the magic was consumed without a trace.
The golden tower stood unscathed, and the tentacles were the same.
Attacks carrying magic power or miasma were, without question, consumed as nourishment.
(A unreasonable ability… is this the world’s will?)
While cutting down the tentacles that assaulted me from all directions, I charged through the city streets.
I sprinted, weaving through the shadows of houses, trying to approach while dodging the grasping limbs.
But once I closed the distance to a certain point, the defenses suddenly thickened.
Left with no choice, I retreated, withdrawing to a position hidden from the tower’s sight.
(My ability is mostly grasped now. The real fight begins here…)
Listening to the screams and cries of triumph from the people, I turned my thoughts over.
It had been a long time since I’d been in such a gritty fight.
That said, I was in no position to complain.
The false god apparently did not want me anywhere near it.
It seemed to excel at mid- and long-range combat.
Which meant my course of action was decided.
Close the distance and beat it down with physical attacks.
My keepsake sword could slice even a tower.
Having come this far, there was no point in voicing weakness.
Though I was forced into a ridiculously disadvantaged position, it was all I could do.