Come, count your sins.

"That power should have belonged to me! Why are you able to bear it!"

The white-robed man let out a desperate, agonized roar, utterly unable to comprehend how things had turned out this way.

"Perhaps because, from the very beginning, it chose me."

Roland looked at the stigma in his palm, feeling somewhat perplexed.

The Apocalypse Virus possessed a collective consciousness; its very first host would become the King—the supreme authority known as Eve. The virus itself carried the mission of triggering the Apocalypse, and to fully achieve this requirement, the existence of another power, Adam, was indispensable. Only when the two combined would they possess the power of Genesis.

The question was, why was he chosen?

Seeing the state the white-robed man was in, Roland understood instantly. He lacked the fundamental qualities required to shoulder this power, and this power of the King certainly could not have been bestowed upon him by the Virus Queen.

Clearly, this was all the handiwork of the second kindred spirit behind the scenes, who had neatly packaged this gift and dutifully delivered it straight to him.

The authority of Adam was extremely dangerous; even to the Virus Queen, this authority was independent. Yet, the second kindred spirit within had made such a bold choice even after Roland had displayed clear hostility.

It was entirely too suspicious...

Although in many anime works, the notion of being "chosen" was a crucial factor—where many fortunes could truly only be utilized by the protagonist, and only the protagonist could accomplish such feats, a fatalism difficult for even many shonen series to escape, much like Naruto being the Child of Prophecy and the reincarnation of Ashura—before obtaining the power of the King, one first had to be acknowledged by the Apocalypse Virus. During the flight of the silver helix just moments ago, even if someone had stood in Roland's path attempting to seize this power, they would simply have been reduced to a part of the river of souls.

However, Roland was not naive enough to think that he had genuinely caught the eye of the Apocalypse Virus just because of his recent success. Having departed from their original world, viewing those phenomena through old perspectives would only bring self-inflicted hardship.

The reason the Virus Queen took the risk to gift this power of the King to Roland might be because his inherent nature strongly resonated with the Apocalypse Virus, but there was only one possibility that could make even the second kindred spirit acknowledge this choice.

"Is there something within me that it is utterly determined to obtain?"

Roland's eyes flashed slightly, though he did not hesitate much. He wielded the silver-white holy sword in his hand with effortless ease. Even separated by the purple barrier, the white-robed man, glaring at him with intense hatred, could feel the overwhelming murderous intent and the massive magical power entwined around his figure.

Then, the earth cracked.

Deep within the dark and profound grotto, thunder suddenly burst forth.

In an instant, Roland's figure transformed into a dazzling bolt of lightning, charging toward the purple barrier like a fired cannonball.

The solid ground beneath his feet instantly disintegrated, shattering as if blasted by explosives. Sharp, intricate fissures spread in all directions from his former location, kicking up a thick cloud of dust.

At the very same time, a divine brilliance radiated from Roland's hand.

The holy sword of steel—capable of annihilating a Demon King and slaying the Primordial Spirit King—was gripped tightly by Roland, instantly converting the surging magical power into a cold, piercing sword light, accompanied by raging crimson flames that ignited everything in the surroundings.

Amidst the mournful wailing of the air, the dazzling sword light carried an irresistible, terrifying momentum as it slashed fiercely toward the purple crystal wall!

Without even producing the sound of shattering, the purple crystal wall was cleanly sliced open in silence by the dazzling silver-white blade.

The white-robed man stationed inside the crystal wall's expression shifted drastically.

"How is this possible? The defense of the River of Sighs is the strongest in the world!"

This seemingly modest purple crystal wall was formed by mixing the shed remains of a corrupted spirit's avatar with the powers of the Dungeon and the Virus Queen, making it several times more powerful than the original version.

Previously, Riveria had tested its defense, and even with the power of Level 7, she could only leave a scratch.

With a constant supply of souls, when subjected to a Level 7 attack, it wouldn't even leave a mark. Right now, however, a large majority of this world's souls had descended here; to say it without exaggeration, even if the entire fifty-ninth floor were shattered, the River of Sighs wouldn't suffer the slightest harm.

In other words, didn't that single strike just now possess the power to shatter the entire fifty-ninth floor?

"The Corrupted Spirit!"

Such an awe-inspiring attack made the white-robed man forget to wail; with a ferocious expression, he invoked the defensive measures of the River of Sighs.

In fact, he didn't even need to remind it. The moment the River of Sighs was punctured, the corrupted spirit, which had been standing like a statue, sprang to life.

A gigantic flower and countless tentacles rushed toward the breach slashed open by Roland the very first second, quickly turning back into purple crystals to patch the opening.

And her counterattack had already manifested within the cavern.

"Magic... Can it still chant even after degenerating into a monster?"

Riveria, overseeing the overall situation from the rear, let out a cry of surprise and subconsciously looked toward Ais.

Before the corrupted spirit had even chanted the spell to activate her magic, Ais's gaze had been completely captivated.

The blood in her veins began to boil, everything around her seemed to recede into the distance, and she could hear only a ringing in her ears. Such a unique sensation was even more intense than the time with the jewel fetus.

"Corrupted... spirit?"

Ais bit her lip, suppressing the trembling from deep within her heart. At that moment, though no magic was chanted, cyan wind spontaneously began to dance around her.

Without anyone needing to explain, Ais knew what this was.

"It's Mother's wind..."

The wind she had witnessed with her own eyes throughout her childhood—the gentle presence of her mother that she could always feel back then.

Though she had departed, her mother had always accompanied her side at any time and in any place through another form.

Just like the current spirit wind.

Her mother had already left along with the hero's retreating silhouette; so how should she, having inherited this bloodline, conduct herself?

Seeming to resonate with this, the corrupted spirit—whose primary consciousness had already faded away, reduced to the role of a gate-guarding vicious hound—suddenly cast its gaze upon Ais and let out a cheer.

"Aria! Aria!"

Following that, the magic chanted by the corrupted spirit was unleashed.

As if intending to dye the world in crimson, a tsunami-like wave of flames came roaring forward, completely engulfing Roland.

The scorching fire baked the earth, hanging in the sky like a blazing sun.

Under the corrupted spirit's magic, the originally gloomy grotto underwent the miraculous spectacle of day and night reversing, black and white inverting.

Protected by the spirit wind, Ais gazed at the sea of fire before her. Though she couldn't see the interior of the blazing inferno at all, for some reason, she could simply feel that silhouette belonging to the hero was within it—belonging to her hero.

She placed her hand over her chest, feeling the wonderful beating sound and the instinctive call.

Spirits were born solely to dance with heroes.

Faced with this offensive, the defensive barrier erected by Riveria could barely sustain itself. The corrupted spirit surveyed her surroundings; among the isolated adventurers, only Ais's wind was still stubbornly resisting the flames. Aside from that, everything around was scorched earth. Witnessing this, she let out a delighted laugh like chiming silver bells.

Yet the very next moment, her laughter abruptly ceased.

Within the flames, a cold radiance flashed.

A physique as unyielding as a rock stepped out of the wildly dancing fire as if walking on flat ground. With every step she took, the coalesced flames scattered and splashed away like flowing water, the bouncing sparks striking the surrounding walls and leaving behind charred pits and scorching liquid resembling magma.

"Flames, obey my command!"

Roland leaped high into the air, issuing a cold, mocking taunt toward the astonished spirit.

The next moment, as if hearing a supreme command, the surging tide of fire receded like an ebb tide. The flames released by the corrupted spirit gathered around Roland like a thousand rushing torrents, condensing into a layer of crimson flame-attire exuding an aura of the netherworld. They transformed into pure magical power, reinforcing Roland.

In an instant, the holy sword—purer than any silver in the world—burst forth with a flowing, wandering radiance, erupting like a breached mountain torrent!

Amidst a clanging sound, the figure of the corrupted spirit floating outside the River of Sighs was directly slashed away and obliterated!

She would die, she would die, she would die!

The white-robed man behind the River of Sighs could no longer endure the pressure running straight from his spine to the top of his head, feeling as though the Grim Reaper stood right behind him. Staggering backward and abandoning any thoughts of ambition, he intended to immediately awaken the Virus Queen behind him.

Yet under this attack capable of leveling Orario, the Wall of Sighs, aside from two deep sword scars and densely packed cracks, was still stubbornly holding on, continuously repairing itself just like the surrounding dungeon.

The white-robed man's words had not been empty boasts; the performance of the River of Sighs was indeed quite remarkable. At this moment, it was akin to connecting to an external Holy Grail; unless one obliterated it in one go with power far exceeding its specifications, it would simply take a bit more time.

Just as Roland prepared to add a few more strikes, an ethereal voice came from behind him.

"Using only a single sword won't be enough to defeat her in one blow."

"Ais?"

Looking at the girl who had walked up behind him, Roland frowned and spoke with cautious phrasing.

"I know you're very strong, but... leave this to me."

However, Ais did not heed Roland's words as she usually did; instead, she continued forward, coming to stand right before him.

"I realized a truth: those wearing the fire-dragon's protective garment were not severely injured in the attack just now, though their clothes were destroyed. But someone not as powerful as them can also rely on my mother's power to counter the spirit's magic."

"Only the power of a spirit can counter a spirit."

Roland instinctively looked at her. Meeting Ais's beautiful golden pupils, he understood everything.

"Could it be..."

Ais wore a shy smile, actively throwing herself into Roland's arms and speaking in a tone akin to spoiled whispering.

"I also want to be of help to you, and right now—I feel a warmth in my heart."

As they drew closer, Ais's chest also bloomed with a cobalt blue radiance, echoing the stigma on Roland's hand from afar.

When Roland looked forward once again, the River of Sighs had transformed into a spherical monster covered everywhere in purple crystal vines and the faces of female monster bodies.

Combining the powers of both the Dungeon and the Apocalypse Virus, what was born from this union was an ancient monster that would never pale in comparison to the One-Eyed Black Dragon, and it was letting out a roar that seemed destined to shake the world.

"Then, let's go..."

Roland felt the weight gripped in his left hand and looked down at Ais in his arms.

The young girl gazed into his pupils and uttered a warm summons.

"Please use me."

The next instant, Roland took action. He reached his hand out toward Ais's chest.

"Mmm..."

Accompanied by a hazy, low murmur, Ais slowly closed her eyes.

Loki and the others, gazing at the backs of Roland and Ais, suddenly widened their eyes. Even the surrounding infected monsters stopped their attacks, staring wide-eyed at the two figures in midair as if intending to witness this moment.

Feeling as though a strong electric current was surging through his entire body, Roland experienced this wondrous sensation, slipping his right hand into Ais's body, spreading his fingers, and grasping the ray of light at the deepest core.

"Roar—!!!"

As if sensing the approach of crisis, the River of Sighs suddenly and proactively lashed out at Roland with unprecedented tentacles, every strike carrying the power to shatter the body of a nearby Level 1 adventurer, which was comparable to that of a Servant.

Then, the moment before Roland could be struck, deep, dark wind transformed into assembled starlight, blowing away all surrounding attacks.

"That is—!"

Riveria, watching this scene unfold from afar, dropped her jaw in shock.

Roland pulled a breathtaking legendary sword from Ais's body.

Faced with the berserk ancient monster, Roland stood tall and unshaken. He gently used the wind to lift Ais's body, sending her back to the vanguard camp, while grasping Ester with his other hand.

Looking at the roaring River of Sighs before him, he revealed a confident smile, knowing victory was already within his grasp.

"Now, then... count up your sins."

Riveria subconsciously caught Ais, completely unable to spare a thought to check on the girl's condition, staring blankly and fixedly at Roland's back in the distance with a trembling, thrilled sigh.

Behind the hero wielding dual holy swords, as magical power continuously poured in, the phantom spirit figures of silver and gold also seemed to appear at his sides, gripping the holy swords right alongside him.

"Well then, Ester, Ais, here we go!"

He leaped high into the air, moving at a god-speed that surpassed all else, and roared as he brought the holy sword crashing down—delivering a light of judgment upon the dark ancient monster in a posture identical to the heroes of legend.