Chapter 971: The Tower Struggle (Part 3)

“Hello, I’m Shiler, Shiler Rodriguez. I trust you’ve seen the tower that fell in the center of the battlefield, correct?”

“Hello, I’m Shiler Rodriguez. Did you see the tower that fell earlier? Did you sense the soul power on it?”

“Hello, I’m Shiler…”

“Hello…”

Identical voices echoed across the palaces of countless demon lords, one Shiler after another appearing before them as honored guests.

Of course, each fragment of Shiler’s soul was deeply tempting, yet every demon lord knew that if even one fragment was this alluring, what if they could obtain them all?

The territory was vast, with countless demon lords, yet few bore notable names; to become a renowned demon lord, one needed either vast lands or immense personal strength—and often, both.

To gain both, one must either be as ancient as the demon Beelzebub, having claimed territory early and developed over centuries, or as formidable as Azazel, undefeated in hell’s wars and thus famed throughout.

These renowned demon lords all coveted Satan’s throne, yet none moved immediately, fearing they’d become the first target and be overwhelmed by the rest.

This time, when Astaroth moved, many demon lords began contacting one another, seeking alliances to defeat Astaroth.

For they knew that as long as Lucifer remained absent, they operated without restraint and could freely strengthen themselves—but if Astaroth ascended, they would surely be suppressed, even eradicated.

On matters of survival, demons remained surprisingly united; numerous quasi-top-tier demon lords joined forces, planning a coalition army to punish Astaroth and halt his bid for Satan’s throne.

Yet the falling tower shattered this unity—every demon lord desired the tower: the already renowned sought to enhance their power, while those still unproven aimed to seize it and rise to fame overnight.

At this moment, a man calling himself Shiler Rodriguez approached them. Of course, the demon lords remembered: it was this Shiler who claimed he could repay all of Constantin’s debts.

From Shiler, they learned that his audacious claim stemmed from his ability to split himself; aside from possessing energy-rich fragments, the tower itself was an exceptionally potent soul—meaning the entire tower was essentially a grand gift.

According to Shiler’s information, the soul traits within the tower would gradually migrate to Constantin’s creditors’ palaces over roughly a month to settle his debts—but he, the Shiler who had escaped prematurely, refused to accept such a fate.

He preferred that the entire tower and its power serve a wise sovereign; thus, he had fled early to seek such a ruler—and after searching a thousand times, Your Majesty, you must be the destined one I’ve sought.

Every Shiler delivered the same speech; these named demon lords possessed high intelligence matched by equal greed—they wished to reclaim the debts owed by Constantin, but even more, they wanted to seize the repayments meant for others.

When investments failed, all sought only to break even; yet when breaking even posed no risk, all desired profit—and once a little profit appeared, they craved massive gains. All intelligent beings were the same: greed was their nature.

To the demon lords, the tower had already reached hell, fallen from the cliff—it couldn’t escape. Meaning, Shiler had already fulfilled his contract, repaying Constantin’s entire debt.

Now came the time for each to rely on their own ability: how much you lent didn’t dictate how much you must recover. If I reclaim tenfold, it proves my prowess; if you recover nothing, it proves your weakness. Survival of the fittest, the strong devour the weak—this was hell’s eternal law.

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Thus, every demon lord approached by Shiler grew restless.

Shiler also struck deals with all demon lords: he would provide complete intelligence on the tower and do his utmost to help them win the coming war, while in return, each demon lord would guarantee the safety of the Shiler who made the deal once they obtained the tower’s soul or the tower itself.

To the demon lords, this deal was extremely favorable: a single soul fragment held little power—consuming it offered only temporary satisfaction. Better to endure, and even if they couldn’t seize the full tower, gathering more fragments would far surpass a single small piece.

Shiler’s subsequent performance did not disappoint them—he handled intelligence gathering, dispatched reconnaissance units, analyzed terrain, and executed battlefield maneuvers with effortless ease.

Moreover, each Shiler had unique strengths: some excelled in internal finance, unraveling millennia-old contracts and bad debts in just a few nights; others mastered accounting, clearly explaining how to balance projected future revenues against military expenditures in mere words.

Some Shilers were skilled negotiators: they could participate in deals between demons and humans to maximize gains, analyze allies and enemies, orchestrate alliances, and negotiate directly with other demon lords to form strategic pacts.

Others excelled in domestic governance, resolving power balances among factions within a demon lord’s domain, mediating internal conflicts, and uniting all demons toward a single purpose.

Yet all Shilers shared one trait: an intense passion for war, surpassing even these chaotic and warlike demons.

“I must say, Shiler, you’re more insane than the most chaotic demon I’ve ever met. I never imagined humans could be this warlike,” said Beelzebub, seated on his throne, watching the Shiler before him.

“Humans who arrive in hell are always timid—either screaming nonstop, unable to speak, or cursing wildly, claiming they belong in heaven and that we devils are merely God’s tests for them.”

Beelzebub shook his head, then asked: “Actually, I’ve always wondered—why do you repay Constantin’s debts? From what I know, he’s hardly a good friend to anyone…”

Beelzebub lightly pinched his fingers and said: “Just in my domain alone, hundreds of souls have perished due to Constantin’s actions. Yet you’re the only one who’s volunteered to repay his debts.”

Shiler smiled, then shook his head: “Because he’s my friend, and I simply can’t bear to see him suffer under so much debt. I want to save him completely.”

“Humans are truly strange. When you hate someone, you curse them to hell; when you love someone, you descend into hell for them…” Beelzebub sighed.

“Your Majesty, if you have no further orders, I’ll inspect the border defenses and reorganize the previous guard structure. The reconnaissance team sent to investigate Astaroth’s weaknesses should return soon…”

Beelzebub waved his hand, dismissing Shiler. Sitting on his throne, he sighed again: “Humans may not be smarter than demons, but in the path of destruction, they’re far more diligent.”

As Beelzebub said, demons weren’t without strategists or intelligent minds—hell had functioned steadily for centuries not by mere chance; among demons, there were many with high intellect or exceptional foresight, most serving renowned demon lords.

Yet as Beelzebub lamented, Shiler may not have been smarter or more skilled at managing demon territories—but he was far more diligent.

Since Shiler arrived in hell and became a counselor to its major demon lords, the demon counselor class had plunged into frenzied internal competition.

Demons were emotional beings; with emotion came the need for rest, relaxation, and entertainment—but Shiler needed none.

As a soul, he required no food, water, or sleep—he could work from dawn to dusk, then dusk to dawn. He needed no entertainment to soothe his mind, could shift effortlessly from domestic affairs to foreign diplomacy, from logistics to the front lines, taking on every task, big or small.

Normally, demon lords might fear such absolute control, fearing it threatened their own authority.

Yet on one hand, Shiler was merely a weak human; even if his soul energy surpassed other humans, he paled beside demons. Humans had no desire or ability to become demon lords—their highest aspiration was merely resurrection.

On the other hand, under Shiler’s instigation, war erupted everywhere; nearly all demon lords began tentative offensives, and within moments, thousands of battles flared across hell.

In wartime, absolute authority meant absolute efficiency. A single all-encompassing steward proved far more effective than a system of checks and balances, yielding swift victories. As report after report of triumph arrived, demon lords naturally favored Shiler’s approach.

Thus, Shiler rose steadily within the demon lords’ councils, simultaneously fueling the internal competition among demon strategists.

Annual leave? Nonexistent. Entertainment? Pure waste of time. Rest and relaxation? To suggest such things now is to show utter disregard for Your Majesty’s great cause. If you can’t give your all, exhaust your spirit, and sacrifice your very life in an emergency, how dare you call yourself a Pope?!

The higher the efficiency, the greater the demon lords’ confidence; the greater their confidence, the smoother their warfare; the more they won, the more they wanted to fight—and the more they fought, the more chaos erupted.

Originally, only border skirmishes occurred; then they escalated into clashes between border cities; soon, massive armies converged, sparks ignited, and war became inevitable.

Within just three days, the largest, most chaotic, and fiercest war in hell’s history erupted.

And since the war's cause was the struggle for the tower at the center of hell, it was historically named the Tower Struggle.

Shiler thrived under the demon lords, but to Batman, who had fallen into hell at the same time, it was a very different story.

Since he fell into hell alongside Shiler, his landing site was near the tower—but fortunately, he didn’t land in the battlefield’s center, but on a desolate slope.

Yet he witnessed countless Shilers pouring out of the tower, only to be captured by demon armies and dragged in different directions.

To Batman, this was Shiler fulfilling his contract with the demons—sacrificing his soul fragments to repay Constantin’s debts.

Meaning, those captured soul fragments would likely be devoured entirely; once most of the soul power dissipated, the tower would collapse, and Shiler’s soul would be completely consumed.

Standing atop the slope, Batman slowly clenched his fists. Before him surged the brutal, bloodthirsty demon armies—and within his heart burned endless, unyielding warlust.

Yet remembering his solitude, Batman calmed himself. He knew he must devise a plan to rescue every Shiler soul fragment from these vicious demon lords—a task destined to be perilous and long.

But soon, he realized this task was far harder than he’d imagined.

For as he descended the slope, among the rubble below, he saw lying on the ground the Pride Shiler—the Shiler Professor he knew best.

His face was pale, utterly weak.