To gain the power to stand against a Demon Lord, what Pure White did next could only be called madness.
Mortal magic, no matter how staggering its scale, was mere child's play before Orcus. It was like someone at the foot of a mountain drawing a bow and shooting at someone on the summit. The gulf between their levels of existence was enough to turn even the most exquisite spells into futile struggles.
To confront a Demon Lord, one first had to stand on the same "level" as him. To that end, Pure White had to seek divinity.
Secret dealings with the Lord of the Nine Hells, a plot to murder the sleeping Rock Divine Scion, an artifact capable of anchoring space for a thousand years...
Scene after scene raced before Renato's eyes like a film on fast-forward, faster and faster. Those distinct figures and settings gradually blurred into indistinguishable afterimages, their colors melting into chaotic patches as they shifted at high speed, until he could no longer make out any details.
A dull ache rose from deep within his mind. Renato knew the sensation well. After he finished studying the True Knowledge spell, the aftermath of that vast flood of information receding would often leave him with a severe migraine.
The pain now was milder, but more persistent, as though someone were slowly tapping against the inside of his skull.
Only when those jumbled images had completely faded did Renato realize he was lying on a spotless ceramic floor. The entire space was so brightly lit that it was almost blinding. White light fell evenly from every direction, yet carried no warmth.
I was just holding Klauthsura's hand as we crossed through the mist gate. How did I end up here in the blink of an eye...?
Before Renato