《The Chronicles of Leafshade》


 Chapter 1 - Weakling (1)

    PRELUDE


    What¡¯s happening? Why did everything suddenly go dark?


    Just a moment ago, I was in my small bedroom, minding my own business. And now¡ªthis. An empty void, silent and lackness of light. My mind scrambled to make sense of the situation, trying to recall what had just transpired. But something felt wrong.


    I couldn¡¯t move. I couldn¡¯t even feel my body. There was no weight, no sensation¡ªjust a strange, eerie lightness, as if I were floating in midair.


    Then, from the distant darkness, tiny specks of light began to emerge. Slowly, they drifted toward me, illuminating the void.


    Damn it, have I gone insane?


    Yet, for some inexplicable reason, this sensation felt¡­ familiar.


    Before me stood six figures, lined up in perfect formation. No, not people¡ªcharacters. Characters from Dreadspire. The very ones I had painstakingly played with for the past twelve years.


    My breath caught in my throat as memories surged back.


    Dreadspire. A single-player roguelike RPG, unique in its unforgiving nature. When it launched twelve years ago, it had skyrocketed in popularity¡ªonly to plummet within months. The reason? Its brutal difficulty.


    The game¡¯s premise was deceptively simple: form a team of five and ascend the Tower to reach the top floor. But unlike most roguelikes, there were no second chances. If a character died in the Tower, they were gone forever¡ªno revivals, no stat boosts upon death. And if the main character perished, it was game over.


    Every battle was a brutal struggle. Even low-level monsters could annihilate a character who had been meticulously trained for months if you let your guard down.


    I vividly recalled my first time reaching the fourth floor¡ªonly for my entire team, built through blood, sweat, and sleepless nights, to be wiped out in an instant by a single misstep.


    I let out a deep breath unconsciously, remembering the countless characters I had lost to this merciless game.


    But despite its overwhelming difficulty, Dreadspire was a masterpiece. Its deep and intricate skill system allowed for thousands of character build combinations, demanding precise strategy and tactical decision-making. The game¡¯s stunning artwork and compelling storyline had made it an instant hit.


    Yet, it was its secrets that kept me hooked. Dreadspire was filled with branching storylines, hidden lore, and cryptic mysteries waiting to be uncovered. In its early days, players were buzzing with theories and strategies, but even then, most only made it as far as the third floor.


    It had taken me two years to break past that point, to finally reach the fourth floor. And from there, I had dedicated the next decade to unraveling every secret the game had to offer.


    And then¡ªthere was the final moment I remembered.


    The giant golden door.


    The entrance to the final boss.


    I could still picture its grand, ornate carvings, exuding an aura of both majesty and dread. I had hesitated for only a moment before reaching out, heart pounding with anticipation.


    After twelve years of grinding, strategizing, and sacrifice, I had finally reached the Tower¡¯s summit. My mind raced with possibilities.


    What kind of monster awaited me beyond that door?


    Was my team strong enough to handle it?


    What instant-kill move would it have? How many phases would I need to survive?


    I had to focus. There was no way I would defeat it on my first attempt, so I needed to gather as much intel as possible.


    Then, as I clicked on the golden door, an unfamiliar message appeared.


    [Do you wish to proceed?]


    [You may not be able to return.]


    A warning I had never seen before.


    Without hesitation, I clicked [Yes].


    I had been waiting for this moment for twelve long years. I had poured thousands of hours into this game, devoting myself to mastering every detail. My hands trembled with excitement. Sweat beaded on my forehead. And despite myself, a faint smile curled at my lips.


    Then, the screen flickered.


    [Welcome to Dreadspire.]


    [Reach the top floor and claim your wish.]


    A blinding light erupted from my monitor, so intense that I instinctively tried to shield my eyes. But even with my eyes shut, the searing brilliance pierced through my eyelids.


    A sharp, dizzying sensation overtook me. The world spun violently, my ears ringing with a deafening noise.


    And then¡ª


    Silence.


    When I opened my eyes again¡­


    I was here.


    <hr>


    Chapter 1 - Weakling (1)


    What must I do to survive in this brutal game?


    I quickly forced myself to focus, my mind racing as I tried to process the impossible truth¡ªsomehow, I had entered the world of Dreadspire. Just moments ago, I would have dismissed such a thought as pure fantasy, a hallucination born from exhaustion. But this was real. Unmistakably real.


    Before me loomed the character selection screen, its eerie yet familiar glow casting long shadows across my vision. I had spent years mastering Dreadspire, memorizing its mechanics, perfecting every strategy. But none of that prepared me for this.


    A flood of questions filled my mind, but one stood out among the rest: What happens if I die?


    A few possibilities surfaced in my head. The first¡ªand most hopeful¡ªwas that I would simply wake up, returning to the real world as if this were all just an elaborate dream. The second was that I¡¯d be forced to restart from the beginning, trapped in an endless cycle of death and rebirth until I completed the game. Annoying, but manageable.


    The third option, however, was the most terrifying and realistic. What if death here meant death, for real?


    Some believed in an afterlife. I wasn¡¯t one of them. The thought of complete oblivion sent a cold shiver down my spine.


    But now wasn¡¯t the time to dwell on fear. Survival came first.


    As a veteran player, I had an advantage. I knew the game¡¯s mechanics, the monsters, the traps, the hidden secrets. That knowledge might keep me alive¡ªat least for a while.


    Taking a deep breath, I focused my will and let my consciousness drift toward an obvious choice: Dragonian.


    Dragonians possessed the highest base stats, making them the most formidable choice for survival. From my extensive experience, they had the highest chance of enduring the challenges ahead.


    [Insufficient Status] [Minimum Vitality: 12] [Minimum Strength: 20] [Minimum Agility: 20]


    What? I was stunned. I had successfully moved toward the Dragonian character, but just as I was about to enter it, an invisible force repelled me, flinging me out of it. In the game, all I needed to do was click on my desired race.


    I tried again. And again. Each time, the result was the same. Frustrated, I decided to attempt a human race instead. Humans were the most balanced race in the game and had numerous advantages due to their sheer population. With their versatility, I should have a better chance of survival.


    [Insufficient Status] [Minimum Vitality: 10] [Minimum Strength: 10] [Minimum Agility: 10]


    "Gosh darn it!" I cursed under my breath. My frustration mounted. Determined, I attempted to enter the other races, only to face the same result each time.


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    Why does the world hate me? I thought bitterly.


    Only one race remained.


    One of my favorites in the game, yet the most difficult to survive as early on. It had the lowest starting stats and was the least populated race, making it an unpopular choice among players. Even at the game''s peak, only a handful of players had chosen this race, and none had made it past the second floor. I had only mastered it after countless failed attempts, employing unconventional methods to increase my early survival chances.


    I sighed, accepting my fate. With a deep breath, I entered the body of a Druid. Druids resembled humans but bore deer-like antlers on their heads. Clad in robes and wielding wooden staves, Druids commanded nature-based magic and were incredibly versatile¡ªa true jack-of-all-trades in this game.


    [Druid Selected Successfully.]


    [?????]


    [Soul Level: 1


    Vitality: 2


    Strength: 3


    Agility: 3


    Wisdom: 21


    Willpower: 134]


    The moment I opened my eyes, I found myself trapped in a small, dark space. My body felt stiff, as if it hadn¡¯t moved in years. A strange sensation ran through me¡ªdiscomfort, curiosity, and an unshakable awareness that something was different.


    I reached out, my fingers pressing against the wall beside me. It was solid yet damp, its surface fibrous like aged wood. As I traced the rough texture, my hand brushed against something unusual¡ªsofter, thinner, almost membranous. Instinct took over. Without hesitation, I tore through it.


    A blinding light pierced through the opening, forcing me to squint. A rush of fresh air filled my lungs as I crawled forward, emerging from the confinement into the open world.


    This¡­ this is real.


    The first thing I did was examine my body carefully. It was exactly as I remembered from the game¡ªexcept now, it was far more detailed, more vivid, more real, and more naked. Moving my limbs felt strangely natural, as if I had inhabited this form my entire life. There was no awkwardness, no resistance¡ªjust a seamless connection between thought and motion.


    Next, status window.


    In the game, checking my character¡¯s status was as simple as pressing a button. But now¡­ things were different. I tried everything¡ªverbal commands, closing my eyes and focusing, even specific gestures. Nothing worked.


    Looks like I¡¯ll have to figure this out later.


    I quickly picked up and put on the clothes laid out in front of me. I stretched my stiff limbs, loosening the lingering rigidity in my muscles. As I turned, my gaze fell upon the place from which I had emerged.


    There, standing tall and majestic, was a Sacred Willow¡ªits thick, curved trunk marking it as a Druidic birthplace. The branches stretched high into the sky, adorned with cascading leaves that shimmered in the sunlight.


    So this is where I was born...


    Druids were unlike humans. Their lives followed a vastly different rhythm, shaped by nature¡¯s ancient cycles. While humans experienced rapid growth, druids matured slowly, their bodies and minds cultivated through a sacred rite. For ten years, they slumbered within the embrace of a Sacred Willow, their consciousness growing in a deep meditative state. When they finally emerged, they were not infants but fully aware beings¡ªpossessing the appearance, wisdom, and maturity of a late adolescent human.


    And unlike humans, who were lucky to live past a century, druids could live for centuries, well beyond 150 years in most cases. Their lifespan was a testament to their connection to the natural world, their essence intertwined with the very forces of life that sustained it.


    As my eyes adjusted, I noticed something remarkable.


    Scattered across the grove were dozens of Sacred Willows, each one standing tall and majestic. And from each of them, one by one, figures began to emerge¡ªother young druids, just like me.


    Before I could process the sight, a deep yet gentle voice called out, resonating through the grove.


    "Welcome, newcomers.¡±


    The language was unfamiliar, yet somehow, I understood every single word.


    Turning toward the source of the voice, I saw an elderly druid approaching. His presence radiated wisdom, his movements calm and measured. He had been expecting us¡ªwaiting for this very moment.


    ¡°Line up quickly and follow me,¡± he instructed.


    Without hesitation, we obeyed.


    I moved into formation with the others¡ªthirty, maybe forty druids in total¡ªall newly born into this world. As we marched in silence, I observed my surroundings carefully, analyzing every detail, committing them to memory.


    Before long, we arrived at a large open courtyard dominated by a long ceremonial table and an ornate throne at its far end.


    Several elder druids sat upon the thrones. Their majestic antlers gleamed, radiating an aura of raw power and authority. Unlike our small, budding horns, theirs had grown into towering, intricate structures, shimmering with natural energy.


    ¡°Congratulations, young druids!¡± The elder sitting at the center¡ªthe one with the largest horns¡ªspoke in a deep, commanding voice.


    I narrowed my eyes. Could he be the Archdruid? The leader of our people?


    ¡°Today marks the day of your birth¡ªand the beginning of your journey to becoming true druids,¡± he declared.


    This is it. The tutorial phase.


    In the game, this was the moment when the Archdruid would recount the history of our people, followed by a brief tutorial. This introduction covered essential survival skills¡ªpotion brewing, basic spellcasting, and the necessary preparations for the Tower.


    But instead of a simple tutorial, what awaited us was something far more intense.


    For five grueling days, we underwent rigorous training. We were taught everything¡ªfrom the core principles of druidic knowledge and sacred traditions to the harsh realities of survival within the Tower. Unlike the others, who eagerly conversed and bonded, I remained focused, absorbing every lesson, every detail.


    I don¡¯t need to waste time talking to NPCs.


    In the game, interacting with NPCs often led to side quests, lore, or clues about hidden secrets. But I didn¡¯t need additional guidance¡ªI already knew this world inside out. Instead, I dedicated every free moment to something more valuable: planning and preparation.


    Whenever I had time, I would venture into the surrounding forest, gathering herbs and materials for potion-making.


    And so, the days passed.


    On the final evening, we were summoned to a sacred gathering place. One by one, we stepped forward¡ªto receive the blessing of the Archdruid.


    "State your name," an elder commanded as the first druid stepped forward. Just like in the game, druids were free to choose their own names once they were born.


    ¡°O-Orin Sylvas,¡± she murmured hesitantly¡ªlooking anxious.


    ¡°Orin Sylvas. May the blessings of the Sacred Forest guide you¡± the Archdruid intoned. A faint golden light surrounded Orin before fading away.


    In the game, this gesture had no mechanical impact. It was merely a ceremonial step in the tutorial.


    ¡°Riven Greenthorn.¡±


    ¡°Sable Thornveil.¡±


    ¡°Kaelen Mosshear.¡±


    One by one, the others stepped forward, declaring their chosen names.


    ¡°Elowen Nymaril.¡±


    ¡°Fenric Mirelthas.¡±


    The blessing ritual continued until it was finally my turn.


    ¡°State your name.¡±


    I took a deep breath. ¡°Erynd. My name is Eryndor Leafshade.¡± This is the name I¡¯ve always chosen when using druid.


    One second, two seconds, five seconds passed. The Archdruid remained silent, his sharp gaze locked onto me. A wave of unease washed over me. Did he know I wasn¡¯t from this world? My mind raced, conjuring worst-case scenarios.


    Then, to my surprise, he stroked his long beard and murmured, ¡°It has been decades since I last felt this... Not since Centrius Eldertide, the great hero of our people¡ªthe Keeper of the Grove.¡±


    The words hung in the air, resonating in ways I couldn¡¯t fully understand. I had heard about legendary figures in druidic history, but this one¡ªCentrius Eldertide¡ªwas a name that held no meaning to me. It wasn¡¯t in the game. Who is he? My mind spun, desperately trying to connect the dots, but the pieces didn¡¯t quite fit. There was no record of this hero, no mention of the ¡®Keeper of the Grove¡¯ in any of the game''s lore or histories. A strange unease crept up my spine. Something was off.


    The Archdruid seemed to catch the confusion flickering in my eyes. With a quiet chuckle, he continued, his voice rich with knowledge and experience. ¡°I can sense something unusual about you. There is a power within you, something rare... an exceptionally high Willpower stat, a trait I¡¯ve only seen in heroes.¡±


    I blinked. Willpower? That didn¡¯t make sense.


    Dreadspire had four primary stats: Vitality, Strength, Agility, and Wisdom. There were also secondary stats like Dexterity, which affected things like movement speed and evasion. But never¡ªnot once¡ªhad I encountered ¡®Willpower¡¯ as a stat.


    "What exactly is Willpower?" I asked, my voice laced with both curiosity and caution. The weight of the word itself felt heavy, as if it held far more significance than I could comprehend.


    The Archdruid regarded me with a contemplative gaze, his aged eyes reflecting the wisdom of centuries. He let out a slow breath, as if carefully choosing his words. "It is not something easily explained in mere words," he admitted, his tone carrying both patience and reverence. "Willpower is... the essence of one''s determination, the unyielding force that drives a being to survive, to push forward even in the face of despair. At its core, it is the strength to defy fate, to carve one''s own path, and to create change where none seemed possible before."


    His words hung in the air, their weight settling deep within me.


    The moment he said that, everything clicked.


    I thought back to my life in the real world¡ªthe endless misfortunes I had endured. The accidents, the betrayals, and, lastly, the physical limitations I was forced to live with. No matter how much the world pushed me down, I kept moving forward. I fought to survive. And in the end, I had clung to Dreadspire as my escape from reality.


    It all made sense now.


    My physical and mental condition in the real world is reflected in this realm, as if my very essence has been transcribed into this new existence.


    And that was why¡ªout of all the races¡ªI could only choose to be a druid.


    ¡°¡­the hell?¡± I muttered under my breath.

 Chapter 2 - Weakling (2)

    Sanctum of Trials. This space, roughly 3 by 3 meters in size, was bare, with no furniture except for a single meditation seat at the center of the room. The walls and ceiling were made of wood and leaves, a hallmark of druidic architecture. Etched into the curved roof and all around the walls were intricate symbols, unfamiliar to me. These symbols emitted a faint green glow. The magical aura in the room was palpable, thick with power.


    After the blessing, we young druids took turns entering this sacred space. I immediately seated myself cross-legged in the center, closing my eyes to meditate, as I had been instructed. Within the game, the Sanctum of Trials is where druids learn their spells. Each spell branched into its own unique paths, allowing for countless combinations. Most druid spells were nature-based, designed to enhance status or provide buffs. It was no surprise that druids often filled support roles within teams.


    As soon as my eyes closed and I began to meditate, visions of the spells available to me appeared, along with detailed descriptions.


    Verdant Surge, Emberroot, Thornstrike, Nature¡¯s Veil.


    One by one, I read the details of these spells. Fortunately, they were identical to what I had seen in the game.


    After simulating hundreds of strategies in my mind, I settled on one spell that seemed essential for survival in the early floors.


    But how do I choose the spell I want? I wondered. I focused my thoughts on the spell.


    [You have successfully learned Rejuvenation.]


    I felt something magical enter me, accompanied by a gentle vibration in my horns. It seems to have worked, I thought. Now, it was time to choose the next spell.


    Druids could select two basic spells at the start of the game. Most players would choose one defensive spell and one offensive spell. Based on the strategy I had decided on, I already knew which spell to pick next. High risk, high reward. If this failed, my character would likely become worthless or even worse, perish. But if it succeeded, I was confident I could at least make it to the second floor. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes once again.


    [You have successfully learned Windstride.]


    I hope this works.


    ***


    After the Sanctum of Trials, the young druids were allowed to prepare for the adventure that awaited them the following day. More than half of them made their way to their rooms to rest, as the night had already fallen. Some gathered in groups, chatting and testing out the spells they had chosen. I don¡¯t have much time left. Every second is precious, and I must use it wisely to finalize my last remaining preparations. I quickly headed back to the starting area, passing the Sacred Willow, and made my way toward a small hidden waterfall deep within the heart of Willow¡¯s End¡ªthe place that druids lived.


    Fleet Lotus seeds, Blue Shell Snails, and Red Nightshade. I worked diligently to gather all of these, all of which could be found around the waterfall. Once I had collected everything I needed, I hurried to my next destination¡ªNightspring Glades. A small area at the border of Willow¡¯s End and Ellarion Woods to the west. Here, I could find the last ingredient I needed. Nightspring Glades was an open space within the forest, where the moonlight pierced through the canopy, illuminating the area clearly. Filled with tall grasses, it was unmistakably the place I had been searching for.


    To my surprise, I spotted a dark figure bent over in the middle of Nightspring Glades. It was highly unusual to find anyone else here at night. Slowly, I moved forward, keeping a close eye on the figure.


    ¡°Orin Sylvas?¡± I asked. I could vaguely recognize the shadowy figure. She was one of the newly born druids, small in stature and looking rather shy. I recognized her by her stiff gestures and confused demeanor during the ceremony¡ªperhaps because she had been placed in the first place.


    Startled and nervous, Orin turned to look at me. She seemed relieved and gave me a stiff smile. "Are you collecting Emberfly?" I asked again, returning her smile. Orin nodded slowly. "Eryndor Leafshade," I continued, extending my hand.


    ¡°H-hi,¡± she stuttered, clearly caught off guard. "Y-yes, I know you. You are quite famous among the newborns," she added, her voice still a little shaky. I remained silent, my gaze fixed on her. She must have been referring to the moment with the Archdruid during the blessing ceremony.


    I was somewhat surprised to find another druid who knew about the use of emberfly. I had planned to ask more, but decided to hold back. Instead, we both focused on gathering the emberflies, engaging in light conversation now and then. To my surprise, beneath her shy exterior, Orin actually seemed quite eager to talk. She shared how she had learned about emberfly. It turned out she had visited the library and read extensively about a certain area.


    We spent about 20 minutes gathering the emberflies before deciding to return to the resting area.


    "Eryndor, would you like to form a team with me?" Orin asked, breaking the silence as we walked.


    I paused for a moment, considering her question carefully, before responding.


    Druids have long been regarded as the weakest among the adventurer races. While a druid may manage to join a team, their role is often relegated to that of a courier or a support character, ensuring that they receive only the smallest share of any spoils or rewards. This unfair condition widens the gap in combat prowess between druids and the others, as the rewards from the Tower are essential for any adventurer seeking to thrive. For this very reason, druids are often encouraged to form exclusive teams with others of their kind. Though such arrangements are far from ideal, they do increase the likelihood of survival, especially when faced with the harsh realities of the Tower. Adding weight to this notion, the Archdruid¡¯s endorsement of me made the idea of teaming up with me all the more reasonable.


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    "I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t," I replied curtly, choosing not to elaborate. According to the strategy I had mapped out, entering the Tower alone was necessary. I had to follow through on that plan, no matter what. Yet, I held back from explaining the entire situation to her.


    "Hahaha, I understand," Orin chuckled, though her smile didn¡¯t quite reach her eyes. It was clear that she was hiding a hint of disappointment. Feeling a bit guilty about turning her down, I decided to offer her some helpful advice about the Redridge Range, ensuring it was all common knowledge while also trying to avoid raising any suspicions. After all, it would be strange if a druid, barely out of their birth stage, had so much detailed knowledge about the Tower.


    "Wow, you really know a lot," Orin said with wide eyes, her face filled with admiration. "No wonder the Archdruid has such high expectations for you."


    I shifted uncomfortably. "I¡¯m just repeating what the elder shared with me during our study," I said, trying to downplay my knowledge.


    "I¡¯ll make sure to repay you once the exploration is over," Orin responded eagerly, her excitement barely contained.


    I couldn¡¯t help but smile at her earnestness. She truly was a unique individual. I thought to myself, hoping silently that both of us would be able to overcome the challenges of this first exploration. It was a daunting task, but perhaps we could find a way to succeed together, even if our paths diverged for now.


    ***


    At exactly 10 o''clock, the young druids gathered in the training area, where the morning sunlight filtered through the canopy of trees overhead, casting dappled shadows onto the forest floor. We stood in neat rows, eagerly awaiting our instructor¡¯s next words. After a short speech, we used the recently distributed equipment, feeling a slight boost in our overall stats. Then our group was broken into smaller teams, each assigned a different instructor.


    [Eryndor Leafshade]


    [Soul Level: 1


    Vitality: 2 ¡ú 3


    Strength: 3 ¡ú 4


    Agility: 3


    Wisdom: 21 ¡ú 22


    Willpower: 134]


    [Spells: Rejuvenation, Windstride]


    ***


    My instructor, Vallen Raenhir, was a young woman of average stature, her figure wrapped in a deep crimson robe that flowed around her as she moved. Her face was stern and determined, and there was no mistaking her authority. The sharpness in her voice left no room for hesitation.


    "Hurry up, we don¡¯t have time to waste!" she barked, her tone commanding and urgent as she motioned for us to follow. She swiftly led us through the dense forest, moving with purpose toward a particular destination.


    As we walked, the trees around us grew larger, towering high above, their bark as white as moonlight, and their leaves shimmering faintly in a delicate glow, as if touched by the magic of the world itself. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth, freshly bloomed flowers, and the almost imperceptible hum of nature¡¯s arcane energy.


    We reached a clearing where the vastness of the forest opened up, and at its heart stood an awe-inspiring sight: the Worlroot, an ancient oak that seemed to stretch toward the heavens. Its trunk, gnarled and twisted by time, pulsed with a deep, steady life force. Its massive roots extended far into the ground, creating a network that connected the tree to the very heartbeat of the earth itself. Above, its branches twisted through the sky, weaving in and out of the clouds, as though the tree itself was trying to touch the heavens.


    At the base of the Worlroot, nestled among the vines and moss, was a large, circular stone platform. This platform, ancient as the tree, was covered in intricate druidic runes¡ªsymbols whose meaning had been lost to time, but whose power remained. They glowed faintly under the touch of sunlight, their ethereal light casting a soft shimmer over the stone.


    Andrheus Rift, a mystical anomaly embedded in the heart of the ancient oak¡¯s roots, pulsating with an energy that felt as though it were alive. It was a magical warp point, a conduit between places, allowing druids to travel across vast distances with ease. In the game, one had to complete a certain achievement before being allowed to travel using the rift. I remembered the process well¡ªtedious and time consuming process¡ªbut none of that mattered now. Here, in this world, the rules were different.


    "How convenient," I mused silently, admiring the shimmering rift before me. However, a small seed of caution sprouted in the back of my mind. The world around me was tangible, alive, and unpredictable. Not everything I had learned in the digital realm would apply here. I needed to let go of the mindset of a mere gamer and embrace the uncertainty of this new reality. It was time to adapt¡ªto be open to the unknown rather than relying on strategies built in a virtual world.


    When instructor Vallen Raenhir raised her hands and began the incantation to activate the Andrheus Rift, a strange sensation gripped me, deep within my stomach. It was as if my insides were being twisted and stirred, causing an uncomfortable churning that radiated outward. My vision immediately began to swim, the world around me blurring into an unrecognizable mess of colors, as if the very fabric of reality were unraveling before my eyes. The air grew thick, pressing in on me from all sides, and for a moment, I felt as if the ground beneath my feet had ceased to exist altogether. It lasted only a few moments, but those moments felt like an eternity.


    Then, as quickly as it had come, the sensation faded. The spinning stopped, the dizziness vanished, and I could finally open my eyes again. But the world I found myself in was no longer the one I had just left. The clearing by the Worlroot was gone, replaced by a landscape that was totally different. The very air was thick with a different energy¡ªa type of magic that vibrated in the atmosphere, alive and ancient. In the distance, towering high above the surrounding landscape, stood the Tower of Ascension.


    Rising high above the bustling town like a monolith carved by the gods themselves, the Tower of Ascension stands as both a symbol of hope and a daunting challenge for any adventurer who dares to enter its shadow. Located at the heart of the town, its towering spires stretch up to the heavens, reaching a total of ten stories, each higher and more treacherous than the last. The tower is constructed from ancient stone, its surface etched with intricate runes and symbols that pulse faintly with an inner magic. The air around it feels charged, as if the tower itself is alive with an ancient energy.


    The base of the Tower of Ascension is surrounded by a sprawling plaza, where adventurers gather, prepare, and share stories before embarking on their climb. Massive iron doors adorned with gilded symbols of various elemental forces guard the entrance, opening only to those who have been deemed worthy by the Tower''s ancient magic. At the foot of the tower, an inscription reads: "Only the strongest may ascend. The trials will test your mind, body, and soul.


    I felt a surge of anticipation mixed with trepidation as I gazed at the tower before me. This was no mere challenge. It was a rite of passage, a trial by fire that would push every adventurer to their limits. Only those who were truly worthy would succeed.


    Suddenly, a loud, mocking laugh broke the tension, and I turned to see a group of adventurers sneering in our direction. ¡°Hahaha, look at those grass-fed weaklings!¡± one of them jeered, pointing a finger at our group. They were a rowdy bunch, their laughter echoing across the plaza as they mocked us, but we simply remained silent, pretending not to hear them, just as instructor Vallen had advised. Their words stung, but I knew better than to rise to the bait.


    Those fuckers. I thought bitterly to myself while remembering their faces.

 Chapter 3 - The First Battle (1)

    After completing the administrative procedures with the Royal Guard, we had only ten minutes left before noon. Every second felt heavier, the anticipation coiling tightly in my chest. Without wasting any time, we made our way toward one of the massive iron doors that loomed ahead like a gateway to an entirely different world.


    Instructor Vallen stood before us, her sharp gaze sweeping over each of us, as if silently memorizing our faces before we stepped into the unknown. Then, in a firm yet solemn tone, she uttered her parting words.


    "May the blessings of the Sacred Forest guide you."


    Her voice carried a weight beyond mere tradition¡ªit was both a farewell and a warning. The Tower was no place for hesitation, weakness, or second thoughts. It was a crucible, one that would either forge us into something stronger or break us entirely.


    One by one, we stepped forward, crossing the threshold into the Tower¡¯s domain. The moment my foot passed through the iron doorway, a familiar yet deeply unsettling sensation gripped my body. Just like the Andrheus Rift, this door was more than just an entrance¡ªit was a warp point, a passage that tore through space and transported us into a cruel and merciless realm.


    Then, in an instant, the shift was complete.


    So¡­ this is the first floor of the Tower.


    What I had seen in the game was nothing compared to this. The sheer scale of the place was overwhelming, far larger and far more terrifying than I had ever imagined. The air was sharp and frigid, biting into my skin like unseen daggers.


    What was truly astonishing was that, instead of the familiar ceiling of the tower above me, I found myself gazing into a vast, dark sky. The space we stood in now was not a literal room within the Tower itself, but a boundless magical realm that seemed to stretch on forever, an ethereal representation of the first floor of the Tower of Ascension. It was as if the very fabric of reality had shifted, and what I had once considered a mere chamber had transformed into an expansive world all its own, with its sky, its atmosphere, and its own unspoken rules. The sensation was overwhelming, and for a moment, I almost forgot where I was, lost in the grandeur and mystery of this enchanted domain.


    I wasn¡¯t the only one unsettled. The other young druids glanced around nervously, whispering among themselves in hushed voices. Their expressions mirrored my own unease, their breath visible in the icy air.


    But I had no time for their fears¡ªor their company.


    I deliberately distanced myself from the group, avoiding the inevitable team-up offers that I had already declined more times than I could count. In the Tower, time was everything. Every second wasted was a lost opportunity, and I refused to let anything slow me down.


    The moment an adventurer enters the Tower, they are always transported to the center of the first floor, an area known as the Safe Zone, placed randomly based on the entered door. Here, thousands of adventurers bustled about, preparing for their ascent. Among them, the ever-present Royal Guards stood watch, their imposing figures a constant reminder that even within the Safe Zone, order was maintained with an iron grip.


    No monsters roamed this area. But beyond the Safe Zone, the Tower¡¯s true nature awaited.


    The first floor was divided into four massive regions: Northern Glades, Gravehollow, Deepnest Tunnel, and Redridge Range. Each had its own unique terrain, dangers, and difficulty levels. Deepnest Tunnel was widely considered the easiest path, a place where even a lone adventurer had a fair chance of survival.


    Unfortunately for me, I didn¡¯t have the luxury of taking the easy route.


    My path lay to the east. To a zone far too dangerous for a solo adventurer. And yet, that was exactly where I needed to go.


    ***


    It had been an hour since I set foot on this narrow, winding trail. Instead of taking the main road, where adventurers often traveled in groups, I deliberately chose an alternate route through Gnashfang Warrens¡ªa treacherous, rocky path that wove through dense undergrowth and jagged cliffs. The reason was simple: during daylight hours, this route had the lowest monster spawn rate in the entire Redridge Range. But that didn''t mean it was safe.


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    A vast, untamed expanse of jagged cliffs, dense woodlands, and scorched valleys stretched endlessly before me. The very air was thick with primal energy, carrying the scent of damp earth, smoldering wood, and the musky odor of countless beasts prowling the wild. Towering crimson-hued mountains loomed over the landscape, their mist-cloaked peaks casting ominous shadows over the battle-scarred terrain.


    This was Redridge Range, a land notorious for being the breeding ground of beast monsters such as Borgoth, Hoblins, and Gnolls. Vicious and territorial, these creatures usually moved in groups, constantly warring over dominance and hunting grounds. To set foot here alone was to invite death.


    Swoosh!


    A sudden, razor-sharp whistle sliced through the air.


    Pain flared in my ear. I winced, instinctively ducking low, my body reacting faster than my thoughts. A piercing sensation burned through the edge of my ear¡ªnarrowly missing, but close enough to make my heart hammer in my chest.


    The pain was real.


    My body trembled uncontrollably. Fear crept in¡ªnot because of the pain itself. I had long grown accustomed to pain. But because, in this world, the line between life and death was terrifyingly thin.


    I clenched my fists, trying to steady my breath. Stay calm. Focus. My breath hitched as I scanned the shadows, my senses sharpening.


    Then, from the darkness, came a high-pitched, staccato cackle¡ªharsh, guttural, and unnervingly inhuman.


    A Gnoll Archer.


    I gulped. My throat felt dry. The first shot wasn''t a warning. It was a test.


    And the next one would hardly miss.


    Gnolls are sadistic raiders who revel in torment and slaughter. With their wiry, hyena-like bodies and jagged teeth, they take pleasure in hunting for sport rather than survival. Many of their kind are found wearing scavenged armor, adorned with bones and trinkets taken from their victims.


    Fortunately, Gnoll Archers were the weakest among their kind. But that didn¡¯t mean I could let my guard down.


    Instead of traditional bows, these creatures wielded crude blowguns, crafted from bones and wrapped in strips of leather. Their projectiles were far smaller than standard arrows, but what they lacked in size, they made up for in lethality¡ªeach dart was coated in a slow-acting poison.


    I could already feel the toxin spreading through my veins, a creeping numbness crawling from the tip of my ear down to my shoulder. My breathing grew ragged. I didn¡¯t have much time before the poison started impairing my movements.


    Gritting my teeth, I channeled Mana into my staff, whispering the incantation for Rejuvenation. A soft green light pulsed around me, its warmth purging the poison before it could take full effect. Relief washed over me, but I had no time to linger¡ªI immediately retaliated, thrusting my staff forward and launching a burst of energy toward the Gnoll.


    The attack landed, but the impact was disappointing.


    It barely staggered the creature. The Gnoll snarled, its beady yellow eyes locking onto me with renewed aggression. Druids really aren¡¯t suited for combat. Even swinging my staff a few times felt exhausting. My strength was abysmal¡ªless than five, if I had to estimate.


    ¡°This damned weak body,¡± I muttered in frustration.


    I refused to back down. I adapted my strategy¡ªbaiting its attacks, dodging at the last second, then counterattacking whenever an opening appeared. If I took a hit, I immediately retreated and healed myself with Rejuvenation before re-engaging.


    Five minutes passed.


    Fifteen minutes.


    Thirty minutes.


    Before I knew it, I had been locked in this grueling fight for nearly an hour. My breathing had grown heavy, my arms ached from repeated spellcasting, and my mana reserves were dangerously low¡ªonly 25% left, by my calculations.


    Tsk. I need to finish this as soon as possible.


    Unlike other races, druids relied on mana for even basic attacks. That was one of our greatest weaknesses. While humans and elves could replenish their energy with potions, druids had no such luxury. Our mana wasn¡¯t just a resource¡ªit was a direct extension of natural energy, something that couldn¡¯t simply be restored with an artificial remedy.


    That meant I had to conserve every drop I had left.


    Which also meant one thing¡ªI could no longer afford to use Rejuvenation.

 Chapter 4 - The First Battle (2)

    The creature was on its last legs.


    Its once-aggressive yellow eyes were now dull and weary, its movements sluggish, its body covered in wounds. Seventy-five minutes had passed since our battle began, and by my calculations, the Gnoll Archer¡¯s health had dropped below 10%.


    Unfortunately, the same applied to me.


    My vision blurred, dark spots dancing at the edges of my sight. Every muscle in my body screamed in agony, my limbs felt as heavy as lead, and my grip on my staff was weakening. My body was reaching its limit.


    [Warning: Your HP has fallen below 5%]


    [Warning: Mana reserves are below 10%]


    I clenched my jaw.


    I had, at most, ten attacks left before I was completely drained.


    The first strike¡ª A miss. The Gnoll dodged at the last second.


    The second strike¡ª I landed a hit, my attack sinking into a vital point.


    The third strike¡ª Another miss. The Gnoll counterattacked, forcing me to twist my body in a desperate dodge. Too close.


    The fifth strike¡ª My heart pounded. Let this be the last one. I prayed silently, even though I already knew¡ªmy prayers never came true.


    The sixth strike¡ª My thoughts wavered. Should I use it? That one item I had been holding onto, my failsafe. No. If I used it now, I would lose a valuable opportunity. I needed to endure.


    The seventh strike¡ª


    Splaash!


    The Gnoll let out a gurgled snarl before collapsing. Its body twitched, then began to glow, its form disintegrating into fading particles of light¡ªvanishing in an instant.


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    For a moment, I stood frozen.


    Then, as the adrenaline faded, my knees buckled. I dropped onto all fours, gasping for breath, my fingers digging into the cold, bloodstained dirt.


    I clenched my teeth, rage simmering beneath my exhaustion.


    All of this¡­ for just two mana stones?


    I cursed under my breath.


    ***


    Two hours had passed since my last battle.


    My Mana had fully replenished through meditation and natural regeneration, and my health had gradually restored thanks to countless casts of Rejuvenation. While the spell was undeniably useful, its healing power paled in comparison to that of a human priest. Still, at the very least, I didn''t have to rely on potions.


    The sky was darkening, shadows stretching across the twisted landscape. Night was approaching. I knew better than to linger near Gnashfang Warrens at this hour¡ªGnolls became far more aggressive after sundown.


    ***


    I had encountered two more Gnoll Archers on my way here. However, I had learned from my previous mistakes. Their movements were easier to read, and I could predict the timing of their attacks. My dodges became sharper, my counterattacks more precise, striking at their weak points with ruthless efficiency. The battles had ended quicker than before.


    I''m getting stronger¡­


    But despite my progress, one thing about Dreadspire remained frustrating.


    There was no experience system.


    Killing monsters wouldn¡¯t make you stronger in most cases. Instead, they only left behind Mana Stones or, if luck was on your side, monster drops¡ªeither monster parts or equipment. And on an even rarer occasion, a monster could drop a Soul Fragment¡ªone of the few things capable of permanently enhancing a character¡¯s status.


    Unfortunately, I wasn¡¯t lucky enough to find one tonight.


    Still, I had survived. That alone was a victory.


    Moving with caution, I approached a small, well-hidden burrow¡ªa secluded space I always used as a resting spot in the game. Carefully, I slipped inside, ensuring I wasn¡¯t followed. The moment my body hit the ground, exhaustion overtook me.


    I barely had time to think before sleep consumed me.


    What a long day.

 Chapter 5 - Wind Cutter (1)

    I woke up to the first light of dawn filtering through the cracks in the earth above my resting spot. The chill of the night still lingered in the air, but I had no time to indulge in comfort. With practiced efficiency, I shook off my fatigue, gathered my belongings, and resumed my journey along the predetermined route.


    Just like yesterday, my path was riddled with battles.


    Time and time again, I found myself facing off against Gnoll Archers. At this point, I had grown accustomed to their erratic attack patterns, their piercing screeches, and the faint whistle of their poisoned darts slicing through the air. The once-grueling battles were becoming routine. I could now take down a single Gnoll Archer in less than an hour¡ªmy fastest kill so far clocking in at 47 minutes.


    And so, my daily cycle continued: traverse the winding trails near Gnashfang Warrens, engage in battle, deplete my Mana, restore it through meditation, and repeat.


    But no matter how well-planned my routine was, misfortune had a way of slipping through the cracks.


    There was an encounter that nearly cost me my life.


    Instead of a Gnoll Archer, I stumbled upon a Gnoll Warrior.


    A melee-class gnoll, bulkier than its archer counterpart, wielding a rusted, serrated dagger in its clawed grip. It shouldn¡¯t have been here¡ªnot during the day. I blame my luck for that.


    And just like in most games, melee warriors were the natural predators of fragile ranged supports like me.


    I didn¡¯t stand a chance in direct combat.


    The moment it lunged, I knew I had no choice but to run.


    Thirty agonizing minutes.


    That was how long I spent weaving between jagged rocks, darting through tangled undergrowth, scrambling over uneven terrain¡ªall while that snarling beast relentlessly pursued me, its growls and heavy footsteps pounding in my ears. My lungs burned, my legs ached, and for a moment, I thought I wouldn¡¯t make it.


    But somehow, I did.


    After what felt like an eternity, I managed to lose it. Whether it was due to sheer luck or a natural boundary in its territory, I didn¡¯t care. All that mattered was that I was still alive.


    I took a shaky breath, steadying myself.


    ***


    Night had fallen.


    The inky darkness of the Redridge Range stretched endlessly before me, broken only by the occasional flicker of torchlight in the distance. It was around 6 PM when my ears caught a faint, ragged sound¡ªa weak, pained whimper carried by the wind.


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    I froze, instinctively lowering my stance. My grip on my staff tightened as I strained my senses, trying to pinpoint the source.


    Someone was dying.


    Carefully, cautiously, I moved toward the sound. Each step was deliberate, my heart pounding louder with every inch I closed in. And then, as I emerged from the shadow of a jagged rock formation, the scene before me unraveled.


    A lone elf lay sprawled on the cold, blood-stained ground¡ªhis body battered, his breaths shallow. Around him, several corpses of adventurers littered the area¡ªmost likely his fallen comrades. But what caught my attention next was the only survivor still standing.


    A dwarf.


    Sturdy and battle-worn, he gritted his teeth as he stood his ground, facing off against a monstrous, 2.5-meter-tall Gnoll. The beast was enormous, a towering juggernaut of muscle and rage. Its fur was caked in blood, its eyes glowing an unnatural crimson.


    A Field Boss.


    It took me one full minute to assess the situation.


    Judging from the erratic, desperate movements of the boss¡ªand the telltale glow of its eyes¡ªit was already in its final phase.


    One elf archer¡ªout of commission.


    One dwarf¡ªacting as the last line of defense.


    It didn¡¯t take long to decide my next move.


    [Rejuvenation casted.]


    A soft green glow enveloped the fallen elf as my magic took effect. Without wasting a second, I tossed a low-rank healing potion toward him.


    ¡°Heal yourself, now.¡± My voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.


    The elf weakly nodded, struggling to drink the potion with trembling hands.


    After quickly confirming the skills and combat power of the elf and dwarf, I shifted my focus to the battle ahead. The dwarf was barely holding on¡ªhis massive shield dented, his breathing heavy. He couldn¡¯t last much longer.


    ¡°Hey, dwarf! Hold the line! Just keep him occupied until the elf is back in action!¡± I called out.


    For a moment, the dwarf scowled, clearly annoyed at being ordered around. But to my relief, he didn¡¯t argue. He tightened his grip on his shield and dug his heels into the dirt, bracing for another brutal exchange.


    I clenched my teeth, my fingers hovering over my inventory.


    This better be worth it.


    With a sigh, I pulled out one of my most valuable items.


    [Flameburst Flask used.]


    The glass vial shattered mid-air, releasing a sudden burst of searing flames. The fire clung to the Gnoll¡¯s fur, crawling over its body like a living inferno. It let out a guttural, agonized howl, its movements turning frenzied¡ªwild and unpredictable.


    But that was exactly what I wanted.


    [Rejuvenation casted.]


    I immediately redirected my magic toward the dwarf. His armor was dented, his body bruised from the relentless strikes of the Gnoll¡¯s massive axe. Unlike potions, Rejuvenation had an advantage¡ªits healing properties continued even if the recipient was taking damage. As long as he could withstand the assault, the regenerative effect would keep him standing.


    Ten minutes.


    That was how long we had been fighting so far.


    And in those short minutes, I had already burned through three of my precious Flameburst Flasks. Worse yet, my Mana had dropped by 30%.


    I wasn¡¯t sure how much longer we could hold out.


    Then¡ªswoosh.


    The unmistakable whistle of an arrow slicing through the air.


    Finally.

 Chapter 6 - Wind Cutter (2)

    The bad news is that I¡¯ve already spent nearly half of my precious items. The good news is, the elf archer I had been waiting for is finally joining the battle.


    [Cinderbrew Vial used.]


    The elf''s arrows were engulfed in a bluish-red flame. Upon impact with the monster, a small explosion followed, releasing a cloud of thick black smoke. Burn marks scorched the body of the Gnoll Chieftain, leaving clear traces of fire across its fur.


    Cinderbrew Vial is an item designed to imbue weapons with fire attributes. The creatures inhabiting the Redridge Range have a notable weakness to fire, which is precisely why I gathered so many Red Nightshade and Emberfly ¡ª two key ingredients for both Flameburst Flask and Cinderbrew Vial. The problem is, I had carefully prepared these items as part of my future strategy. But as always, reality has a cruel way of turning plans upside down.


    Thirty minutes had passed, and the three of us were utterly exhausted. Thankfully, we had managed to deal a significant amount of damage to Mad-Eye Mordok ¡ª the name of the Gnoll Chieftain we were facing. Parts of his body were scorched, and one of his legs was severely wounded, leaving him limping with a pronounced limp. Suddenly, he raised both of his massive axes high above his head.


    ¡°Dwarf, run!¡± I shouted with all the strength I could muster. Fortunately, the dwarf had already sensed the imminent danger and had started retreating even before I gave the command.


    [Windstride casted.]


    The dwarf¡¯s speed surged dramatically, as if an invisible force was propelling him forward. Baaaam! The deafening sound of an axe slamming into the earth echoed through the air. The strike nearly grazed the dwarf, missing him by less than a few centimeters.


    A powerful gust of wind erupted from the impact, as though the very force of nature had been unleashed. We were all thrown backward, the sheer force of the wind tossing us aside. This was one of the instant-kill moves that could be found in the depths of Dreadspire¡ªa brutal and unforgiving technique.


    Without missing a beat, the three of us sprang to our feet and launched ourselves back into the fray, attacking the Gnoll Chieftain with everything we had.


    [Piercing Arrow casted.]


    [Bastion Strike casted.]


    [Flameburst Flask used.]


    [Lightning Bolt casted.]


    [Shield Bash casted.]


    Mad-Eye Mordok howled in pain as the onslaught hit him. In a final act of desperation, he hurled both of his massive axes toward us.


    One of the axes flew off into the empty air, spinning out of control.


    The other, however, flew directly toward the elf¡¯s head. Time seemed to slow down as I turned in horror, watching the deadly trajectory. My heart skipped a beat.


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    The elf narrowly dodged the incoming strike at the last possible moment, grinning and joking, "An axe thrown that slowly will never hit me."


    Swish. A dark streak of blood appeared across his upper body.


    "Darwyn!" the dwarf cried, rushing toward the elf in alarm. It turned out that Mordok had infused his final throw with the element of wind, using it to slice through the elf¡¯s vulnerable form with an unnerving precision.


    [Rejuvenation casted.]


    [Low-rank Healing Potion used.]


    I quickly tended to the elf¡¯s wounds, while the dwarf poured a low-level healing potion over him. I kept applying Rejuvenation, all the while monitoring his condition closely.


    Despite our desperate efforts to heal him, the blood kept pouring out. No matter how hard we tried, the wound refused to close.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare die on me, you stupid elf! You still owe me¡ªa lot!¡± the dwarf shouted, his voice shaking.


    But there was no response.


    Three potions¡ªgone. And still, no sign of improvement. I kept casting my spell on the motionless body.


    I could see it clearly now¡ªthe panic on the dwarf¡¯s face, the sadness in his eyes. His lips pressed into a tight line, as if holding back tears.


    Minutes passed, heavy with tension.


    Then¡ªmovement.


    I froze, barely daring to hope. Slowly, I reached out to check.


    "The wounds are severe, and they¡¯ve struck vital organs, but he should survive," I said calmly, though a hint of concern flickered beneath my words.


    ¡°Hahaha, thank goodness,¡± the dwarf chuckled weakly, collapsing onto the ground beside the elf.


    ***


    "My name is Muradin Bromir, son of Thrain," he said with a chuckle.


    "Fangbone Scepter," I replied coldly.


    "Plus half of the Mana Stones and both Gnoll Tails."


    Confusion was evident on his face.


    In this world, druids were often underestimated and given the smallest share. On top of that, I had only joined the battle in its final phase. From my perspective, this was the perfect moment to negotiate. The elf was still unconscious, and the dwarf was riding high on adrenaline after a long, exhausting fight¡ªtoo mentally drained to think clearly.


    "That''s too much, druid," the dwarf said, his expression hardening as his grin faded.


    "I''ve already used almost all of my precious consumables," I shot back.


    "And let''s not forget, I saved the elf not once, but twice," I continued, pressing the point. "Besides, you got Mordok''s Battleaxe ¡ª that should be more than enough."


    Mordok¡¯s Battleaxe was a drop weapon from Mad-Eye Mordok, the Gnoll Chieftain, a named Field Boss from the Gnashfang Warrens. Weapons dropped by bosses always had much higher stats than regular weapons. What made this one particularly special was that it came with an active skill ¡ª a weaker version of the instant-kill attack that had almost ended the dwarf''s life.


    The dwarf fell silent for a moment, before responding, "You can take the scepter and all the monster parts. That''s my final offer."


    I exhaled, preparing to play my last card. "You do realize I saved you from Mordok¡¯s instant-kill attack, right? I could have let you die and defeated Mordok along with the elf instead."


    It seemed the dwarf finally understood, as he inhaled deeply and fell silent, processing my words.


    "Alright, as long as you tell me your name," Muradin grinned, his expression loosening, and the mischievous look returned to his face.


    "Eryndor Leafshade, but you can call me Erynd," I said with a faint smile.


    I hadn''t expected my negotiation to succeed. My hands were damp with sweat, and my legs were shaking.


    I guess I hit the jackpot this time.

 Chapter 7 - Wind Cutter (3)

    Mad-Eye Mordok, the Gnoll Chieftain, was a rare spawn¡ªso rare, in fact, that encountering him on only the second day felt almost absurd. Judging by the state of Muradin¡¯s team, it was clear they hadn¡¯t sought out this fight. They must have stumbled upon the Field Boss by sheer misfortune. Normally, a Gnoll Chieftain wouldn¡¯t appear alone; he would be accompanied by an entire pack of gnolls, ranging from lowly Gnoll Archers to the monstrous Bandersnatch. Among these, there was one variant I was particularly wary of¡ªthe Fangbone Sorcerer.


    And from that very monster came the legendary Fangbone Scepter.


    The moment I laid eyes on the battle between Muradin¡¯s party and the Gnoll Chieftain, I had already taken note of the scepter¡¯s presence. It was the key reason I decided to step in and aid them. With the boss¡¯s health now below 10%, our chances of victory were solid.


    Perhaps my decision seemed selfish, but in a world as unforgiving as this, every move had to be calculated. A single reckless mistake could cost far more than I was willing to lose.


    ***


    1793 Mana Stones and 2 Gnoll Tails.


    Compared to the mere 29 Mana Stones I had gathered on my own, this was an incredible haul.


    Then there was the Gnoll Tail¡ªone of the primary reasons I had spent so much time hunting Gnoll Archers. I needed at least one of these monster parts to help me in the labyrinth ahead.


    And finally, the true prize of this battle:


    Fangbone Scepter.


    Unlike ordinary weapons, this staff was classified as a drop from a mini-boss, meaning it came with an active skill. The moment I held it in my hands, I could feel the raw energy pulsing through the bone-like structure, an eerie warmth radiating from the ancient runes etched along its shaft.


    I could barely contain my excitement. Now, it was finally time to test it.


    [Eryndor Leafshade]


    [Soul Level: 1


    Vitality: 3


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    Strength: 4 ¡ú 11


    Agility: 3 ¡ú 5


    Wisdom: 22 ¡ú 31


    Mana Regen: 9 ¡ú 11


    Willpower: 134]


    [Spells: Rejuvenation, Windstride, Wind Cutter]


    ***


    After offering a final moment of respect for Muradin¡¯s fallen comrades, we finally took the time to properly introduce ourselves.


    ¡°This is my first time meeting a druid,¡± Darwyn, the elf, remarked, his emerald eyes gleaming with curiosity. ¡°And I truly owe you my life, Erynd.¡± His voice was warm, sincere.


    ¡°Well, at least we paid him handsomely for his troubles,¡± Muradin quipped with a playful smirk.


    I responded with nothing more than a small smile.


    ¡°We¡¯re heading to the portal that leads to the second floor. Why don¡¯t we go together?¡± Muradin suggested, throwing an arm over my shoulder in a friendly manner. Despite his imposing stature and rugged appearance, he was surprisingly easygoing.


    I nodded. ¡°As long as I get a fair share of the spoils,¡± I said directly. ¡°Besides, my destination is in the same direction as yours.¡±


    With our combined strength, I no longer had to take the long and winding paths to my destination. Instead, we could cut straight through enemy-infested zones while hunting along the way.


    Murlocs, Bandersnatches, Hoblins¡ªevery monster that crossed our path fell before us. With Muradin and Darwyn¡¯s impressive combat prowess, fights were more efficient than ever. Our team composition was nearly perfect for Redridge Range: a durable frontline melee warrior, a ranged damage dealer, and a versatile support.


    But the most important part?


    [Wind Cutter casted.]


    [Wind Cutter casted, effect successfully stacked ¨C extra damage dealt.]


    [Wind Cutter casted, effect successfully stacked ¨C extra damage dealt.]


    I was finally able to contribute meaningful damage in battle.


    Unlike most weapons with active skills, Wind Cutter was classified as a spell, requiring Mana to activate. With its low Mana cost and short cooldown, I could effectively replace my basic attacks with this spell. Though the individual damage output was small, the real strength of Wind Cutter lay in its stacking mechanic. Consecutive strikes would increase its damage exponentially, punishing any enemy that let me chain my attacks uninterrupted.


    Splaash!


    The Red Murloc in front of me let out a shrill gurgle before its body was torn apart by a relentless barrage of Wind Cutter, its form breaking down into particles of fading light.


    Everything had been going smoothly¡ªalmost too smoothly. Yet, for some reason, my heart pounded in my chest, a nagging sense of unease creeping up my spine.


    Given my notoriously terrible luck, this could only mean one thing¡ªsomething bad was waiting just around the corner.

 Chapter 8 - Familiar Face (1)

    Day 13.


    After enduring countless trials together, our journey as a team was nearing its end. Soon, we would reach a fork in the road¡ªone that would lead us toward our respective destinations.


    A part of me felt reluctant to part ways. Over these past few days, Muradin and Darwyn¡ªwhom I considered as mere NPCs¡ªhad become more than just temporary allies; they were comrades, people I could trust. But as much as I wanted this companionship to last, I had my own path to walk¡ªmy own battles to face.


    Since the encounter with Mad-Eye Mordok, we hadn''t faced another battle of that magnitude. There were dangerous moments, of course¡ªfights that pushed us to our limits, where a single mistake could have cost us our lives¡ªbut we always pulled through. Not a single one of us had suffered grave injuries.


    Unfortunately, luck hadn''t been on our side when it came to loot. No Soul Fragments, no rare drops¡ªjust the usual Mana Stones and common monster parts.


    But in the end, that hardly mattered.


    Muradin Bromir. Darwyn Vonn Gwydion.


    My first companions in this world.


    I was grateful I had chosen to help them that day.


    With a brief yet heartfelt farewell, we finally parted ways, walking in opposite directions.


    ¡°Don¡¯t forget your promise, dwarf!¡± I called out over my shoulder. ¡°Once we make it back to the city, you owe me a drinking night till I pass out!¡±


    Muradin let out a booming laugh. ¡°Aye, and I¡¯ll make sure you regret those words, lad!¡±


    ¡°And you, Darwyn,¡± I smirked. ¡°Stop whining about women already. Let me find one for you later.¡±


    The elf scoffed, shaking his head. ¡°I¡¯d rather take my chances in the dungeon.¡±


    I chuckled at their responses, watching them disappear down the road.


    And just like that, I was alone once more.


    ***


    Continuing the journey by myself, I returned to a safer route, occasionally hunting any lone monsters that crossed my path. As nightfall approached, I searched for a secure resting spot and enjoyed the provisions I had prepared¡ªa late dinner under the vast, starry sky.


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    My thoughts wandered. I still vividly remembered the moment I first entered this world¡ªthe overwhelming fear, the crushing sense of helplessness. That fear only deepened after my first near-death encounter with a monster. But with each battle I survived, with every danger I overcame, something inside me changed. I no longer feared this world; I had begun to revel in it.


    The thrill, the adrenaline, the challenge¡ªit all reminded me of playing Dreadspire. Except this was far more intense, far more real. For the first time in my life, I felt truly alive. More alive than I ever did in my previous world. The thought of returning? It barely crossed my mind. What mattered now was my goal: reaching the final floor, picking up what I left earlier.


    Thanks to Muradin dan Darwyn, I had managed to cut down my travel time significantly. That meant I had some extra time to visit certain places before heading to the labyrinth¡ªit¡¯s time for treasure hunting.


    I began reconstructing my plan in detail, going over every possible route, every necessary preparation, before finally allowing myself to rest.


    ***


    Smash!


    [Magic Resistance +1]


    Smash!


    [Stamina +1]


    Scattered throughout this rocky terrain were strange, oddly-shaped stones¡ªstones that, when shattered, granted permanent stat increases. It was an incredible find, one I had been taking full advantage of since morning. So far, I have broken six of them.


    "Alright, this is the last one," I thought to myself.


    Smash!


    [Movement Speed +1]


    I had stumbled upon this secret entirely by accident while exploring this desolate, stone-filled region when playing Dreadspire. But the moment I saw these peculiar rocks, my gamer instincts flared up. There was no way something this conspicuous didn¡¯t have a hidden mechanic behind it. And I had been right.


    Unfortunately, I wouldn¡¯t be able to return here anytime soon. I¡¯d have to wait for the next few Tower cycles before this place became accessible again. A shame¡ªbut at least I had reaped the benefits while I could.


    [Eryndor Leafshade]


    [Soul Level: 1


    Vitality: 3 ¡ú 4


    HP Regen: 1 ¡ú 2


    Magic Resistance: 3 ¡ú 4


    Stamina: 2 ¡ú 3


    Strength: 11


    Agility: 5


    Flexibility: 5 ¡ú 6


    Movement Speed: 3 ¡ú 5


    Wisdom: 31


    Willpower: 134]


    [Spells: Rejuvenation, Windstride, Wind Cutter]


    ***


    Shrikk!


    Suddenly a sharp, hissing sound sliced through the silence behind me. I knew that sound all too well.

 Chapter 9 - Familiar Face (2)

    Moraxus.


    A monster that resembled a meerkat¡ªif meerkats were the size of wolves and clad in thick, armor-like plating that made them nearly impervious to damage. Its beady black eyes gleamed with an unsettling intelligence, and its powerful limbs twitched with restless energy. This thing wasn¡¯t just fast¡ªit was too fast. Running wasn¡¯t an option.


    In truth, I knew this creature was beyond my current combat abilities. But fear? That was never part of the equation. My grip tightened around the Fangbone Scepter, its weight grounding me, filling me with confidence. If I played this right, I could bring the beast down.


    [Wind Cutter casted.]


    A crescent blade of wind shot forward, slicing through the air with a sharp whistle before colliding with Moraxus¡¯ armored hide. The impact staggered it slightly, its body jerking backward. Yet, when the dust settled, there wasn¡¯t even a scratch.


    Tch. As expected.


    One strike wasn¡¯t enough? Then I¡¯d hit it again. If two weren¡¯t enough, I¡¯d make it five. Ten. A hundred, if that¡¯s what it took.


    [Wind Cutter casted ¨C effect successfully stacked. Extra damage dealt.]


    I unleashed a relentless barrage, spell after spell, refusing to give Moraxus even a moment to recover. If I let up for even a second, I was dead. This creature was fast, but more than that, it was cunning. It knew how to chain its attacks, how to capitalize on hesitation.


    Perhaps sensing the pressure, Moraxus changed tactics. It no longer charged head-on. Instead, it zigzagged unpredictably, its movements erratic and near-impossible to track with the naked eye.


    Then¡ª


    Scratch!


    A searing pain lanced through my side.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    I gasped as warm blood trickled down my ribs. Moraxus had gotten past my defenses, its razor-sharp claws carving through flesh like butter.


    ¡°Darn it,¡± I hissed, pressing a hand to the wound.


    The moment my blood hit the air, something changed. Moraxus froze, nostrils flaring. Then¡ªits movements grew wilder, more frenzied. It became a blur of motion, darting around me in an erratic, almost rabid frenzy.


    This was bad.


    [Windstride casted.]


    I pushed off the ground, wind magic enhancing my speed as I tried to gain distance. At the same time, I fired another Wind Cutter¡ª


    ¡ªbut Moraxus was relentless.


    It closed in with terrifying speed, claws flashing under the moonlight. I barely managed to twist my body in time to protect my vitals, but¡ª


    SLASH!


    Pain flared through my leg as its claws carved deep. My movements faltered. I stumbled.


    No¡ªfocus!


    Through gritted teeth, I forced myself to stand. My fingers curled tighter around my scepter.


    "Just a little more..."


    [Wind Cutter casted ¨C effect successfully stacked. Extra damage dealt.]


    The best defense¡­ was an overwhelming offense.


    [Wind Cutter casted ¨C effect successfully stacked. Extra damage dealt.]


    Again!


    [Wind Cutter casted ¨C effect successfully stacked. Extra damage dealt.]


    At last¡ª


    A shift in the air.


    [Wind Cutter has reached maximum stack. Hidden effect activated ¨C Tornado Slash casted.]


    A violent gust of wind erupted around Moraxus, a vortex of razor-sharp blades. The force of it was deafening. The monster let out a shriek of pure agony as the wind carved through its armor¡ªthrough its flesh¡ªuntil nothing remained.


    As the winds settled, silence followed.


    Then¡ª


    A glimmer of red.


    A small, semi-transparent Soul Fragment lay where Moraxus had stood. My breath came fast, my body shaking with adrenaline. I had done it.


    I reached forward¡ª


    BAM!


    A searing impact exploded at the back of my head.


    Pain.


    My vision blurred. My knees buckled. Darkness crashed over me like a wave.


    I couldn¡¯t move.

 Chapter 10 - Familiar Face (3)

    There was an unspoken rule among adventurers: never attack a fellow adventurer inside the Tower. That was why Royal Guards patrolled the area, ensuring order was maintained. Even stealing from another adventurer carried severe consequences.


    But right now, I was in a secluded place¡ªfar from prying eyes, far from the law.


    Five figures.


    That was the first thing I saw as my vision gradually returned.


    "Heh. Thought you were a monster for a second," sneered a hulking warrior, his massive warhammer resting casually on his shoulder. His lips curled into a cruel smirk as his beady eyes swept over me, dripping with mockery.


    Those fuckers¡­


    I clenched my fists, forcing down my anger. There was no mistaking then. I had seen their faces before---just before entering the Tower. A gang of scum, nothing more.


    ¡°Well, well, well¡­ What luck!¡± The brute chuckled as he crouched down, his thick fingers closing around the Soul Fragment I had fought for¡ªbled for. He held it up to the light, inspecting it like a jeweler admiring a precious gem.


    "The thing I''ve been searching for was just lying on the ground, waiting for me. Almost feels like fate, doesn¡¯t it?" His voice dripped with arrogance.


    I took a step forward, barely restraining the urge to rip it from his filthy hands. "That¡¯s mine." My voice was low, controlled¡ªbut beneath it simmered a storm.


    He grinned, flashing yellowed teeth. "Oh? I don¡¯t see your name on it." Then, with exaggerated slowness, he popped the fragment into his mouth and swallowed. A shudder ran through him as the power settled in his core.


    "Congratulations, boss! You finally got your first Soul Fragment!" one of his lackeys gushed, practically wagging his tail like a loyal dog.


    "About damn time," another snickered.


    Then, just as I was about to take another step forward, one of them shoved me back¡ªhard. I staggered but didn¡¯t fall.


    "See ya, grass-fed weakling," he sneered before turning away.


    The gang left, their laughter echoing through the empty corridor..


    I stood there, heart hammering, rage seething beneath my skin like molten steel. I could still feel the taste of defeat on my tongue, bitter and humiliating.


    I will get stronger. No matter what it takes.


    ***


    Thick, inky-black smoke billowed from the altar, curling into the air like writhing shadows. The dark stone surface pulsed faintly with an eerie, otherworldly glow, radiating an unsettling presence.


    For several tense moments, the ritual chamber was silent, save for the lingering hiss of dissipating smoke. Then¡ª


    Thud!


    A small object dropped onto the altar¡¯s surface with a dull, heavy sound.


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    I stepped closer, my breath caught in my throat as I examined the item before me. It was a hexagonal relic, its surface etched with intricate, cryptic patterns that seemed to shift when viewed from different angles.


    I could hardly believe it¡ªI had managed to obtain this on my very first Tower exploration.


    The process to acquire such an artifact was far from simple. It required the sacrifice of several rare monster parts, along with an immense quantity of mana stones¡ªresources that should have taken far longer to gather. And yet, here it was, resting in the palm of my hand.


    A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips.


    Looks like I owe you one, Mad-Eye Mordok.


    With this in my possession, there was nothing left to prepare.


    I was ready to enter the labyrinth.


    ***


    The first thing that greeted me was the towering stone head of a monstrous bull, its lifelike features carved with eerie precision. The sheer brutality and terror etched into its expression perfectly captured the nature of the beast it represented¡ªMinotaur.


    This was the Palace of Minos, a vast and imposing structure built in the style of ancient Minoan architecture. Its massive limestone walls, worn by time, were overgrown with creeping vines and patches of moss. Despite its age, the palace still exuded a sense of indomitable strength, as if it had withstood countless sieges and trials.


    The palace itself was an endless labyrinth, a sprawling maze of corridors and chambers designed to confuse and trap those who dared enter. It was from this place that the very word labyrinth had originated¡ªits treacherous design meant to disorient even the most skilled adventurers.


    To reach the main entrance, I had to ascend hundreds of stone steps, climbing from the lower courtyards toward the heart of the maze. And now, as I stood before the entrance, the weight of history and legend pressed down on me.


    Inside lurked the creature that had haunted countless adventurers¡ªMinos the Minotaur.


    A terrifying beast with the body of a man and the head of a bull, it towered over five meters tall, its immense frame packed with raw, unrelenting power. In its massive hands, it wielded a colossal iron club, capable of crushing stone and bone alike.


    But brute strength wasn¡¯t its only advantage. Despite its size, the Minotaur was incredibly fast¡ªso fast that even the most agile elves would struggle to outrun it. Against a creature like this, escape was almost impossible.


    Defeating one required at least three elite teams, each composed of five adventurers ranked Fifth Floor or higher. Even with those numbers, victory was never guaranteed. I still remembered my struggle against it in the game¡ªit had taken me dozens of attempts before I finally prevailed. The mere memory of those battles sent a shiver down my spine.


    And yet¡­


    Here I was.


    A newborn druid, walking straight into the depths of this deadly labyrinth.


    The moment I crossed the threshold, an unnatural sensation washed over me.


    It was subtle at first, but within seconds, I could feel it spreading through my body. My skin tingled¡ªhypersensitive to every shift in the air. My limbs felt weaker, as if my physical strength had been drained. But strangely, amidst the discomfort, my magic felt¡­ amplified.


    So this is what it feels like.


    [Field Effect Activated ¨C Daedalus¡¯ Curse. Cooldowns reduced by 50%. Incoming damage increased to 300%.]


    I exhaled slowly, steadying myself.


    This was no ordinary dungeon. This was a death trap.


    And the real challenge had just begun.

 Chapter 11 - Golden Opportunity (1)

    Minos Labyrinth was a place of secrets.


    Hidden pathways, deadly traps, concealed chambers¡ªthis place was a maze of deception and peril. But after all the time I had spent studying its intricacies, I was convinced that I had uncovered every secret it had to offer.


    Most of the hidden treasures scattered throughout the labyrinth were far beyond my reach at the moment. Except for one.


    A single hidden item¡ªa crucial piece in the core build of the druid I was aiming for. This was the reason I had risked everything. From gathering hard-earned materials to willingly handicapping myself into a trash-tier character¡ªeverything had led to this moment.


    All or nothing.


    With quiet, measured steps, I moved deeper into the labyrinth. The air was thick with tension, and in the suffocating darkness ahead, a deep, ragged breathing echoed through the corridors.


    Then¡ª


    A low growl rumbled, accompanied by the rhythmic tremors of heavy footsteps. Each thud sent vibrations through the floor, growing stronger, closer. The walls quivered with every impact.


    From the shadows, a massive figure emerged.


    Minos the Minotaur.


    Without hesitation, I activated my secret weapon.


    [Fleeting Potion used.]


    Minos Labyrinth¡¯s Field Effect, Daedalus¡¯ Curse, granted a 50% cooldown reduction. By consuming a Fleeting Potion, I could push that reduction even further¡ªan additional 15%.


    For most wizards, whose high-powered spells suffered from excruciatingly long cooldowns, this was a godsend.


    But for a druid¡ªwhose spells already had naturally short cooldowns¡ªthis was an exploit.


    [Windstride casted.]


    A druid spell designed to boost movement speed by 50% for a brief duration. Normally, it required a delay before it could be used again.


    [Windstride Casted.]


    But now, with Daedalus¡¯ Curse and Fleeting Potion in effect, Windstride could be cast almost without interruption.


    [Windstride Casted.]


    I, who was usually slow, now surged forward with a speed that defied belief. The Minotaur¡¯s heavy steps thundered behind me, but I was already pulling away, vanishing into the twisting corridors of the labyrinth.


    [Windstride Casted.]


    Left, right, second intersection¡ªleft again. Press the hidden section of the wall¡ªthere. The passageway shifted, revealing a secret route. I dashed through without a second thought, my body moving purely on instinct, following the mental map I had memorized down to the smallest detail.


    [Windstride Casted.]


    The labyrinth blurred past me as I pushed myself to the limit. A quick glance over my shoulder confirmed it¡ªthe Minotaur was falling behind, its sheer bulk slowing its pursuit.


    Just 200 meters straight ahead. Then, jump onto the hidden platform on the right and double back to the grand intersection.


    My breath was ragged. My lungs burned.


    [Windstride Casted.]


    Almost there¡­ Just a little more¡­


    At the final stretch, I forced my legs to move faster. The path ahead led directly into a dead end, but that was exactly where I needed to be.


    [Fleeting Potion effect has worn off.]


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    I had arrived. Relief washed over me¡ªI had made it.


    Without wasting a second, I turned toward the wall at the dead end and pushed.


    Nothing.


    I pushed again, harder this time, my palms pressed against the cold stone.


    Move, damn it!


    I shoved with all my strength¡ªagain and again¡ªbut the wall didn¡¯t budge.


    Not even a fraction.


    Behind me, the heavy footsteps of the Minotaur grew louder.


    A wave of dread crept up my spine.


    Oh, shit.


    ***


    Within the labyrinth, the Minotaur was nothing short of a cheat-like monster. Unlike ordinary creatures bound by sight and sound, the Minotaur possessed an unnatural ability¡ªit could sense the presence of any being inside the maze, pinpointing their exact location without exception.


    And instead of following the labyrinth¡¯s winding paths like a normal pursuer, the Minotaur simply smashed through the walls, carving a direct path toward its prey.


    This was why so few adventurers dared enter Minos Labyrinth, despite the vast treasures hidden within. No amount of preparation, no amount of tactical maneuvering could ensure safety when faced with a relentless force that could rewrite the very structure of the dungeon itself.


    Yet, here I was.


    I forced myself to take a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. My reckless overconfidence had led me here. I had relied too much on my game knowledge, assuming that my past experiences would be enough to carry me through.


    I had been arrogant.


    This world wasn¡¯t just a game. There were things I didn¡¯t know¡ªthings I had yet to understand.


    GROOOAAR!!


    The Minotaur¡¯s roar shattered my thoughts, reverberating through the stone corridors. From the intensity of the sound, I estimated that I had minutes before it arrived.


    My heart pounded against my ribs, adrenaline flooding my veins, but I knew one thing¡ªpanic and fear wouldn¡¯t help me survive.


    I needed to act.


    I needed to find the item.


    A memory surfaced¡ªthe teachings of the elder druids.


    "Calm your mind. Close your eyes. Become one with nature."


    I shut my eyes and focused.


    The chaotic noise of the labyrinth¡ªthe distant echoes of shifting stone, the Minotaur¡¯s heavy footsteps, the whispering air in the corridors¡ªall of it faded into silence.


    Then¡ªthere it was.


    A faint yet distinct pulse of energy lingered beyond the wall ahead.


    I opened my eyes, my vision sharpening as if seeing the world anew. A greenish aura flickered on the other side, calling to me.


    Without hesitation, I turned and sprinted in the opposite direction, weaving through the narrow corridors until I reached yet another dead end.


    This was it.


    The energy here was dense, practically leaking from beyond the stone wall. I could feel it¡ªwhat I was searching for was just beyond this point.


    Drrrrt.


    I pushed against the wall with all my strength.


    For a brief moment, nothing happened.


    Then¡ªa deep, grating shift echoed as the wall gave way, revealing a narrow opening. The hidden room was small, almost claustrophobically so¡ªbarely enough for someone of my size to fit inside.


    At its center stood a solitary stone pedestal, upon which an object rested.


    My breath caught in my throat.


    This is it.


    "Please¡­ just this once, let my luck hold out."


    I stepped forward, reaching out with trembling hands.


    The moment my fingers touched the artifact, a violent sensation tore through me.


    It started in my stomach¡ªa gut-wrenching twist, as though my insides were being churned by an unseen force. A sickening lurch spread through my entire body, making my head spin.


    Even though this was already my third time experiencing it, the sensation never became any less unbearable. I clenched my teeth, shutting my eyes to dull the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm me.


    But¡ªI am truly grateful to be able to experience this sensation.


    Just like in the game, claiming this item triggered an automatic teleportation. Within moments, my body was forcefully transported back to the entrance of Minos Palace. The labyrinth would now be sealed off, inaccessible until the next Tower cycle.


    I had done it.


    The talisman I had been searching for¡ªthe druid-exclusive artifact¡ªwas finally in my hands.


    But there was one problem.


    Talisman drops in this chamber were random. There was no guarantee of what I would get. The best possible outcomes were the Arcturus Talisman or the Wildkin Talisman¡ªboth of which would have doubled, or even tripled my combat ability.


    But when I looked at the talisman now resting in my palm, my chest tightened. It wasn¡¯t what I had expected. It was¡ªsomething even stronger. More powerful than either of the talismans I had originally wanted. If I had found this talisman at a higher level, I would have been ecstatic¡ªbeyond thrilled at my luck.


    But right now¡­


    My hands curled into fists as a sinking realization settled over me.


    "Shoot¡­" I muttered under my breath. This talisman was too strong for my current build. If I wanted to use its full potential, I would have to completely rebuild my druid from scratch.

 Chapter 12 - Golden Opportunity (2)

    An ancient relic of raw, untamed power, the Talisman of the Ursine Spirit is shaped like a meticulously carved bear-like claw, its surface smoothed by time yet brimming with an earthy, primal warmth. Fashioned from rare darkwood and wrapped in intertwining vines, its core is embedded with a small, yet mesmerizing emerald gemstone that pulses faintly¡ªlike a heartbeat, synchronized with the very essence of nature itself.


    For a druid, a talisman is more than just an accessory¡ªit is an awakening.


    Once worn, it does not merely sit upon the skin; it merges with the wielder, permanently fusing with their body, altering them from the inside out. It enhances status attributes, reshapes the very fabric of their being, and grants the sacred ability of transformation.


    As I press the talisman against my chest, a gentle yet consuming warmth spreads through my body. My senses sharpen¡ªeach breath feels deeper, every sound more distinct. And then, it hits¡ªa surge of overwhelming raw strength rushing through my veins, as if the ancient spirit of the Ursine itself now inhabits my body.


    The transformation completes in mere moments, but the effects are undeniable. A faint, ethereal glow shimmers on my chest¡ªshifting into the familiar pattern of the Ursa Major constellation, permanently etched into my flesh like a celestial brand.


    For now, I focus on the silver lining¡ªthe Ursine Spirit Talisman grants one of the highest permanent stat increases of any druidic artifact.


    Even if the brute strength boost is meaningless to me in combat, the other enhancements more than make up for it.


    [Eryndor Leafshade]


    [Soul Level: 1


    Vitality: 4 ¡ú 29


    Physical Resistance: 1 ¡ú 6


    Magic Resistance: 4 ¡ú 9


    Stamina: 3 ¡ú 10


    Strength: 11 ¡ú 61


    Agility: 5 ¡ú 15


    Wisdom: 31 ¡ú 41


    Willpower: 134]


    [Spells: Rejuvenation, Windstride, Wind Cutter]


    ***


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    The path that winds through the heart of Redridge Mountain is as treacherous as it is ancient, a jagged trail etched into the very bones of the earth. Cliffs rise sharply on either side, their stone faces worn smooth by the biting winds that howl through the highlands. With every step I take, the air grows thinner, carrying the sharp scent of pine and distant snow.


    The sun, reluctant to grace this landscape, barely pierces through the ever-present mist that clings to the slopes, swirling in thick, unrelenting waves.


    Above, shadows flicker through the fog.


    Harpies.


    These ravenous, winged predators have long claimed Redridge Mountain as their hunting ground. Their eerie screeches fill the sky¡ªhalf-hidden forms circling the peaks, their razor-sharp talons and hungry, predatory eyes searching for prey. Occasionally, one of them swoops past the sun, its dark silhouette casting ominous shadows across the rugged path.


    The higher I climb, the more distant the world below becomes, swallowed by an eerie, suffocating silence.


    And yet, the quiet is never truly empty.


    Every gust of wind carries the leathery flap of wings, the subtle rustling of feathers, the echoing caws of harpies hunting across the sky.


    This mountain is not a mere passageway; it is a trial¡ªa test of both body and spirit. And the higher I ascend, the clearer it becomes.


    ***


    Kwaak!


    Another Harpy falls.


    I don¡¯t know how many I¡¯ve slain by now. Dozens? Maybe more.


    I have been climbing for days, battling through relentless waves of these creatures. Morning, noon, and night, they descend upon me¡ªclaws slashing, wings beating, their piercing screeches threatening to drive me mad.


    If nothing else, I can say this:


    Even though the strength boost from the Talisman of the Ursine Spirit is useless for my combat style, the other stat enhancements have been a lifesaver.


    Not long ago, I had struggled against Moraxus¡ªa foe that had nearly crushed me in battle. And yet, here I am now, standing my ground against Harpies that are stronger, faster, and far more vicious.


    This is Day 22 of my Tower exploration. Time is running out. Soon, this cycle will end, and whatever remains unfinished will have to wait for the next rotation. There is still one final destination I must reach before that happens. Deep within Redridge Mountain¡¯s central region, hidden amidst the craggy peaks, lies a place of importance.


    If my calculations are correct, I should be one or two days away from reaching it.


    But before that¡ª


    I pause mid-step, my fingers tightening around the remnants of my rations.


    A disturbance.


    A sudden shift in the air¡ªsubtle, but unmistakable.


    From below the ridge, the sound of conflict.


    I move instinctively, slipping into the shadows, carefully maneuvering along the cliffside edge. Each step is measured, cautious¡ªone wrong move, and the sheer drop below would be the end of me.


    I inch forward, peering over the ledge.


    My lips curl into a slow, dangerous grin.


    A golden opportunity.

 Chapter 13 - Golden Opportunity (3)

    In Dreadspire, monsters came in many forms¡ªordinary creatures, field bosses, non-combative entities, floor bosses, and more. Each monster, upon defeat, dropped something of value¡ªwith one exception: special monsters.


    Unlike their common counterparts, special monsters left behind no loot, no equipment, no treasures. Instead, they offered something far more precious¡ªa direct, permanent enhancement to the one who landed the final blow.


    Here, in Redridge Mountain, where the skies were ruled by Harpies, the special monster of this region was the elusive Golden Harpy.


    Summoning one was no easy feat. A series of prerequisites had to be met, but even then, luck played the greatest role. The appearance rate of a Golden Harpy was abysmally low¡ªfar rarer than even a Field Boss.


    In all my twelve years of playing, despite fulfilling the conditions multiple times, I had only ever encountered four Golden Harpies.


    That was how absurdly rare they were.


    Or maybe¡­ I had just always had terrible luck.


    In terms of power, the Golden Harpy wasn¡¯t particularly threatening. It possessed the strength of three, maybe four regular Harpies, and its attack patterns were nearly identical. Nothing extraordinary. Nothing unmanageable.


    So it was obvious why they were after it.


    "Hurry up and cast your fuckin¡¯ spell!" a sharp, impatient voice rang out. A wiry archer, his face lined with cunning and arrogance, glared at the robed wizard beside him.


    "Shut up before I shut you up myself," the wizard snapped, his features twisted in irritation.


    "Both of you, shut the hell up! You''re breaking my focus!"


    The one barking orders was a towering warrior, his massive frame radiating authority. Judging by his presence, he was the leader of this dysfunctional group.


    His cold, narrowed eyes scanned the battlefield, his grip tightening around his weapon.


    "If I don¡¯t get it, I¡¯ll kill every last one of you."


    Instant silence.


    The archer and wizard exchanged venomous glares, but neither dared to utter another word.


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    It was easy to tell¡ªthe dynamics in this team were a mess.


    No doubt Redridge Mountain had taken its toll on them. The grueling battles, the dwindling resources, the exhaustion creeping into their bones. After all, this was the final stretch of their tower exploration. Survival wasn¡¯t just about skill anymore. It was about endurance.


    "Boss, the monster''s almost dead!" A rat-faced man, likely the team¡¯s guide, scurried to the warrior¡¯s side. His beady eyes gleamed with anticipation.


    No further commands were needed. The rest of the party halted their attacks, their weapons lowered. They had already planned this. The warrior alone would deal the finishing blow.


    A twisted grin stretched across his face, his eyes filled with pure, insatiable greed. He could already see the jackpot before him¡ªa permanent stat boost that could push his power to the next level.


    One strike.


    Just one final strike¡ª


    WHOOSH!


    A pillar of fire erupted around the Golden Harpy, its flames swirling wildly as fierce gusts of wind tore through the battlefield.


    The monster let out a piercing shriek, while the warrior¡¯s body instinctively retreated, forced back by the unbearable heat.


    The warrior¡¯s eyes widened in fury.


    "What the hell was that?!"


    His head snapped around, his gaze locking onto the wizard behind him.


    "I¡ªI didn¡¯t do anything! I swear on my parents¡¯ graves!" the wizard stammered, his face pale with panic.


    A beat of silence.


    The archer beside him snorted. "Your parents are dead, you idiot."


    "Then I swear on yours!" the wizard barked back, his expression twisted between frustration and the urge to cry.


    The warrior clenched his fists. It wasn¡¯t them. And yet, his boiling rage needed an outlet. With a feral roar, he swung his weapon wildly, striking his own teammates in blind fury. Even if he knew the truth, even if he knew the attack hadn¡¯t come from them¡ª


    Someone had stolen his kill.


    And he would make them pay for it.


    ***


    +20 Luck.


    +2 to all primary stats.


    That was the reward for slaying the Golden Harpy.


    And Luck was no ordinary stat. In this world, Luck was nearly impossible to improve¡ªit was considered a permanent, almost finalized attribute.


    It influenced various things from drop rates and monster spawn rates, to combative power like evasion and critical hit chance.


    That was why the Golden Harpy was regarded as the golden treasure of the first floor¡ªnot for its combat prowess, but for the immeasurable advantage it bestowed.


    [Eryndor Leafshade]


    [Soul Level: 1


    Vitality: 29 ¡ú 31


    Strength: 61 ¡ú 63


    Agility: 15 ¡ú 17


    Wisdom: 41 ¡ú 43


    Luck: -31 ¡ú -11


    Willpower: 134]


    [Spells: Rejuvenation, Windstride, Wind Cutter]


    A strange lightness settled over me, as if the burden pressing on my shoulders had eased.


    I exhaled slowly. The feeling was subtle, but undeniable¡ªlike I was on top of the world. If I were still in my old life, back in reality, I would¡¯ve bought a lottery ticket right this second.


    Or walked straight into a casino.


    And left a very, very rich man.

 Chapter 14 - Unexpected Duel (1)

    It had been several hours since I killed the Golden Harpy, yet a strange sense of unease lingered. To make the most of the remaining daylight, I decided to hunt for a Harpy Soul Fragment¡ªa rare and valuable drop that could significantly boost my abilities. However, something was undeniably wrong. I had slain dozens of Harpies by now, yet not a single Soul Fragment had dropped. In fact, I hadn¡¯t received anything¡ªno monster parts, no equipment, nothing.


    I frowned, gripping my weapon tightly. This shouldn¡¯t be happening. With the massive Luck boost I had just obtained from the Golden Harpy, my drop rate should have improved drastically. I should¡¯ve been swimming in loot by now. Instead, it was as if something¡ªor someone¡ªhad placed a curse on me.


    Letting out a frustrated sigh, I eventually decided to stop and rest. No point in wasting energy on pointless fights. There was still a long journey ahead, and I needed to conserve my strength. I found a quiet spot, nestled between two large boulders, and lay down against the cool stone. The sky above was a canvas of deep indigo, streaked with the last remnants of sunlight, and the wind carried the distant cries of harpies circling overhead.


    My expression might have seemed blank, but my mind was anything but still. Plans, calculations, and possibilities ran through my head at lightning speed. I had to be efficient once I returned to town. I needed to sell excess materials, upgrade my gear, prepare potions, and¡ªmost importantly¡ªbuild a team for the next Tower cycle. The list of tasks grew longer by the second. I let out a slow exhale. "Looks like I¡¯ll be busy for the next few weeks," I muttered, closing my eyes briefly.


    ***


    On the 24th day, I finally arrived in the central region of Redridge Mountain. The jagged peaks loomed overhead, their towering forms casting eerie shadows over the land. The air here was noticeably thinner, carrying the scent of damp earth and the faintest hint of sulfur. This was an area few adventurers dared to explore¡ªnot because of the harpies, but because of something far worse.


    For the past two days, my luck hasn''t improved. I had given up on hunting Harpy Soul Fragments entirely; the drop rate was abysmal, far worse than I had anticipated. It was a waste of time. Instead, I shifted my focus to something far more important¡ªfinding the hidden cave that housed Ooborosk¡¯s Nest. I scanned my surroundings carefully, my sharp Druidic senses attuned to every detail. Somewhere beneath these rocks lay the entrance. I just had to find it before it was too late.


    Ooborosk¡¯s Nest. A secret dungeon hidden deep within Redridge Mountain, its entrance shifting unpredictably with every Tower reset. Unlike normal dungeons, this one followed an obscure mechanic that most players never even discovered.


    Ooborosk was a monstrous, ancient serpent¡ªthe apex predator of Redridge Mountain. A single mistake in combat could mean certain death. However, unlike most monsters, Ooborosk¡¯s loot wasn¡¯t particularly valuable for druids. There were no nature-aligned weapons or elemental-enhancing artifacts to gain from the fight. In a normal situation, I wouldn¡¯t even bother engaging it. But this time was different.


    I wasn¡¯t here to fight. I was here for the egg.


    For those who knew the hidden mechanic, there was one golden rule¡ªif you visit Ooborosk¡¯s Nest on the 20th day or later, you¡¯ll find an egg left behind in the lair. That egg was my real target.


    I checked my pocket watch. 2:00 PM. Perfect timing.


    Another crucial secret about Ooborosk¡¯s Nest was its feeding pattern. Every day, at exactly 2 PM, the monster would leave its lair to hunt. For a short window of time, the nest would be completely unguarded. That was my opportunity¡ªthe perfect moment to slip in, steal the egg, and escape before the beast returned.


    I took a deep breath, my heartbeat steady. Now or never.


    After carefully navigating the uneven terrain, I finally spotted it¡ªa narrow fissure in the rock face, almost imperceptible at first glance. If I didn¡¯t already know what to look for, I would¡¯ve walked right past it. The entrance to Ooborosk¡¯s Nest was always concealed, blending seamlessly with its surroundings. I crouched down, running my fingers along the stone, feeling the subtle energy that pulsed beneath it.


    "I should still have plenty of time," I murmured, double-checking my watch.


    Wasting no time, I squeezed into the passage, the cold rock pressing against my skin as I moved forward. The air grew damp as I descended, the scent of moss and stagnant water thick in my nostrils. The tunnel walls were lined with bioluminescent fungi, their faint glow casting eerie shadows along the uneven ground. Each step I took echoed softly, swallowed by the overwhelming silence of the cave.


    Then, up ahead, the tunnel widened into a vast underground chamber. The ceiling stretched high above, disappearing into the darkness. Jagged stalactites hung ominously, their sharp points glistening like fangs. The cavern floor was uneven, littered with massive, shed scales¡ªthe unmistakable remnants of Ooborosk¡¯s molting. But I wasn¡¯t here for those.


    At the very center of the chamber, nestled within a bed of crushed bones and dried leaves, lay a single egg¡ªits smooth surface gleaming faintly under the dim light.


    There it is.


    My pulse quickened.


    I had come all this way for this moment.


    Now, all I had to do¡­ was take it and get out alive.


    ***


    I had barely taken a few steps toward the egg when, from the darkness at the far end of the cavern, a massive figure slithered into view. A deep, guttural hiss echoed through the chamber as Ooborosk¡ªa monstrous serpent with obsidian-black scales¡ªrushed forward, coiling protectively around its egg. Its slitted, amber eyes locked onto me with terrifying intensity, filled with a primal, murderous intent. The razor-sharp stinger at the end of its tail lifted menacingly, aimed directly at me, glistening with a thick coat of venom that could melt through flesh.


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    What the heck! So much for the plan. It wasn¡¯t supposed to be here.


    I clenched my jaw, gripping my weapon tightly. "Damn reality patch," I muttered, frustration bubbling beneath my breath. It seemed like the snake behaved differently than the game.


    Ooborosk was the natural enemy of druids.


    Its thick scales provided a formidable resistance to magic. Its lightning-fast reflexes made it almost impossible to dodge. And worst of all, its venom attacks could cripple even the most resilient warriors, let alone a class known for its weak defenses. A normal druid would stand no chance against this thing.


    But I wasn¡¯t a normal druid.


    With exceptionally high Agility and Vitality compared to other druids, as long as I played it carefully, I could win.


    Still, this fight was going to be brutal.


    I already learned something¡ªafter a grueling 20-minutes battle against this monster¡ªthat Ooborosk never strayed far from its egg. It fought defensively, relying on its venomous tail to snipe enemies from afar while keeping its massive fangs as a last resort.


    [Rejuvenation casted.]


    I felt a warm energy wash over me as the healing spell took effect. My body mended slightly, countering the slow but persistent venom seeping into my system. Luckily, the venom from its tail wasn¡¯t too potent¡ªit could be neutralized with Rejuvenation. But the real danger lay in the stacking effect.


    Each hit made me slower.


    Each hit blurred my vision.


    Each hit brought me closer to death.


    I ducked behind a nearby stalagmite, breathing heavily. A moment later, CRASH! Ooborosk slammed into it, shattering the rock pillar into dust.


    That was too close.


    [Wind Cutter casted ¨C effect successfully stacked. Extra damage dealt.]


    The air shimmered as blades of wind tore through Ooborosk¡¯s massive body, their sharp edges digging into its scales. The attack wasn¡¯t enough to break through completely, but it did something even more important¡ªit stacked damage over time.


    [Wind Cutter has reached maximum stack. Hidden effect activated ¨C Tornado Slash casted.]


    A violent cyclone erupted around Ooborosk, ripping through its body like an invisible saw. This is the second Tornado Slash I had landed after a prolonged battle. But even though the attack was powerful, it still wasn¡¯t enough to cripple the beast.


    Shit. If only I still had Flameburst Flask¡­


    I clenched my teeth, cursing my past decisions. Fire was Ooborosk¡¯s weakness¡ªa single burst could have seared through its defenses. But I had used my last Flameburst Flask killing the Golden Harpy earlier. No use regretting it now.


    [Windstride casted.]


    My body moved on pure instinct as I narrowly dodged another venom strike¡ªbarely escaping with my life.


    But something was different now.


    Ooborosk was changing tactics.


    Before, it relied on long-range poison attacks and brute-force slams. But now¡ªit was lunging directly at me.


    It¡¯s getting desperate.


    That was good. That meant it was starting to feel cornered.


    Suddenly¡ª


    SPLAT!!


    A glob of thick, green venom splattered across my face.


    My left eye burned as if someone had shoved a red-hot dagger into it. My vision instantly blurred, my head spinning.


    And in that moment of weakness¡ª


    Ooborosk struck.


    I barely had time to react before its massive jaws lunged forward, fangs bared.


    I twisted my body just in time¡ªbut not fast enough.


    CHOMP!


    A searing pain shot through my left shoulder as Ooborosk¡¯s fangs sank deep into my flesh. I could feel the venom coursing through my veins, far more potent than what its tail had injected earlier.


    This wasn¡¯t normal venom. This was lethal.


    My arm burned like fire. My fingers went numb. My body screamed in agony.


    If it had bitten my chest instead, I¡¯d already be dead.


    But I wasn¡¯t going to go down without a fight.


    With a desperate roar, I swung my Scepter as hard as I could¡ªslamming it against Ooborosk¡¯s skull.


    BAAM!


    Thanks to my high strength stat, the impact was enough to make the beast recoil. Its head snapped back, releasing me from its fangs. I staggered backward, gripping my bleeding shoulder as I gasped for breath.


    I needed to assess my condition¡ªfast.


    [Rejuvenation casted.]


    My bleeding stopped, but my condition was dropping fast. The venom was relentless, and my Mana reserves were dangerously low.


    I couldn¡¯t afford to waste any more spells.


    From now on, I had to switch strategies.


    No more Mana-draining attacks. I had to go full defense¡ªuse only essential healing¡ªand counterattack with brute force.


    ***


    CRUNCH!


    BAAM!


    SPLAT!


    We exchanged blows over and over again, both of us pushing past our limits. My body was battered, bruised, and barely holding together. But so was Ooborosk.


    It all came down to who had the stronger will to survive.


    Ooborosk recoiled, preparing for one final attack. Its body coiled like a spring, and in an instant, it launched forward¡ªjaws open wide, fangs gleaming, ready to end me. I braced myself, focusing every ounce of strength left into dodging¡ª


    CRUNCH!


    I wasn¡¯t fast enough. Ooborosk¡¯s fangs sank into my abdomen.


    A sharp, excruciating pain exploded through me. I felt my organs rupture, my blood soaking the ground. But I didn¡¯t let go.


    With everything I had left¡ªI swung my weapon, again and again, slamming it into Ooborosk¡¯s skull with wild, reckless fury.


    BAM. BAM. BAM.


    The serpent convulsed, its body twisting violently¡ªuntil finally¡­


    Its massive form flickered, turning into particles of fading light.


    [Warning: Your HP has fallen below 3%.]


    My vision blurred. My body felt cold. I had to do something.


    [Warning: Your HP has fallen below 2%.]


    I could barely breathe. My stomach burned, my limbs felt heavy.


    [Warning: Your HP has fallen below 1%.]


    I collapsed onto the cold stone floor.


    And then¡ª


    Darkness.

 Chapter 15 - Unexpected Duel (2)

    A small, motionless figure lay sprawled across the cold, rocky ground of the hidden dungeon¡ªthe very domain where Ooborosk had once ruled. No signs of life stirred from the battered body, its chest unmoving, its limbs limp. The aftermath of a ferocious battle was evident all around.


    Dark crimson stains painted the cavern floor, the scent of iron and venom thick in the air. Jagged stone fragments lay scattered across the dungeon, remnants of shattered stalagmites. Puddles of toxic residue sizzled faintly on the cracked earth and burned streaks marked the walls¡ªsilent witnesses to the deadly venom that had splashed across them.


    The silence was eerie, suffocating.


    For minutes, nothing happened.


    Then, a faint, pulsating glow¡ªa soft green light¡ªbegan flickering around the body. At first, weak and almost imperceptible, but slowly, steadily growing stronger.


    A sharp breath tore through my lungs.


    I was still alive.


    A dull, throbbing pain flooded my senses as I slowly regained feeling in my limbs. The memory of the final moments before Ooborosk¡¯s attack flashed in my mind. The searing agony of its fangs piercing my abdomen, the venom burning through my veins¡­ and the desperate gamble I had taken at the last second.


    Just before the fatal strike, I had forced down my very last item¡ªFleeting Potion.


    Even without the Daedalus¡¯ Cursed effect, which halved spell cooldowns, Fleeting Potion had given me just enough time to cast Rejuvenation faster¡ªslowing down the poison¡¯s lethal progression and continuously patching my wounds at the very last moment.


    It saved my life.


    I exhaled shakily, still trembling from the ordeal.


    My thoughts drifted back to the sheer effort it had taken to craft that one bottle.


    Gnoll Tail.


    An essential material needed to brew Fleeting Potion.


    I had hunted countless Gnolls¡ªand not a single one dropped it. I had nearly given up hope when, by pure chance, I obtained two Gnoll Tails after a chaotic battle against Mad-Eye Mordok. The irony? These materials were already laid on the floor before we defeated the Gnoll Chieftain.


    And because of that fluke, I had managed to brew exactly two Fleeting Potions. One had been used to escape the Minotaur. The second had saved my life today.


    I sat there for a long moment, staring at the flickering green glow on my body, reflecting on how a single, seemingly small event had changed my fate.


    A single drop of luck could alter the entire course of the future.


    For the first time in a long while¡ªI truly felt lucky.


    ***


    I grimaced, holding my breath as I forced down the Ooborosk¡¯s Egg, my stomach twisting in protest.


    The thick, translucent slime that coated its surface reeked of rot, filling my nostrils with a rancid stench that nearly made me gag. The outer membrane was rubbery and unnervingly tough, making it difficult to bite through.


    And the taste?


    It was revolting.


    A horrific blend of bitterness and overwhelming sourness, with an aftertaste that reminded me of month-old, unwashed socks left to rot in damp conditions. No matter how much I rinsed my mouth with water, the awful taste clung stubbornly to my tongue, refusing to fade.


    But it was worth it.


    [Egg of Ooborosk has been consumed.]


    [Passive Skill Acquired: Ooborosk¡¯s Mantle. Negative status effect durations reduced by 15%.]


    A passive skill.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Unlike active skills or spells, which relied on resource and had cooldowns, passive skills had no usage limits¡ªthey were permanent buffs that stayed with me for as long as I lived.


    A 15% reduction might not seem like much now, but once I reached the higher floors¡ªespecially past Floor 4 and beyond¡ªevery second of survivability mattered.


    I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth, still feeling the lingering bitterness, and forced myself to stand.


    I had survived.


    And now, I am stronger.


    [Eryndor Leafshade]


    [Soul Level: 1


    Vitality: 31


    Strength: 63


    Agility: 17


    Wisdom: 43


    Willpower: 134]


    [Spells: Rejuvenation, Windstride, Wind Cutter


    Passive: Ooborosk¡¯s Mantle]


    ***


    It seemed that I had to endure countless misfortunes¡ªeven teetering on the brink of death¡ªbefore I was allowed even a sliver of luck.


    At first, I doubted my own eyes. The lingering effects of Ooborosk¡¯s venom still clouded my senses, my vision unfocused, my body sluggish. But amidst the battlefield¡¯s ruins, half-buried in the darkness, I spotted something.


    A small, semi-transparent orb, barely distinguishable from the shadows.


    The dim glow from the dungeon¡¯s crevices reflected faintly off its smooth, glass-like surface, giving it an almost ethereal presence. It was black as the void, but within its depths, I could see a ghostly silhouette shifting¡ªa distorted shadow of Ooborosk itself.


    I picked up the mysterious sphere, cradling it in my trembling hands, and examined it closely. This was the first time I had ever seen a Soul Fragment up close. And it was breathtaking. I could have stared at it for hours without growing tired, mesmerized by its delicate yet powerful aura.


    It was small enough to fit neatly in my palm, light as a feather, yet its texture was unlike anything I had ever felt¡ªsomewhere between solid and gas, as if it existed in two states at once. Despite its fragile appearance, it was surprisingly sturdy. It wouldn¡¯t shatter easily, which meant I could store it safely inside my pouch.


    But no matter how valuable it was, I couldn¡¯t use it.


    Ooborosk¡¯s power held no synergy with mine.


    Soul Fragments were precious, but my Soul Slot was limited¡ªand wasting one on a fragment that didn¡¯t compliment my abilities would be a grave mistake.


    Still, I couldn¡¯t bring myself to discard it.


    Reluctantly, I tucked the fragmented soul into my sub-space pouch, unsure of what to do with it. Perhaps I would keep it¡ªor perhaps I would sell it. A Soul Fragment of this caliber would fetch a fortune on the market.


    I would decide later.


    ***


    When I finally woke up, I felt refreshed.


    I had no idea how long I had slept, but judging by the aching stiffness in my body, it must have been for hours. The exhaustion from yesterday¡¯s brutal battle had completely wiped me out.


    I sat up, stretching my sore limbs, and glanced around. The cavern was eerily silent, empty and desolate without Ooborosk¡¯s presence.


    Strange.


    Despite its gloomy, foreboding atmosphere, this dungeon now felt¡­ safe.


    It made sense. With Ooborosk gone, this place was likely the safest location in all of Redridge Mountain¡ªat least, for now.


    I exhaled slowly.


    There were only a few hours left before the Tower closed, meaning my time here was running out. It was time to take stock of what I had gained from this treacherous journey.


    I emptied my inventory, laying out everything I had collected. 212 Mana Stones and various monster parts¡ªlikely worth around 100-200 Mana Stones.


    Not much, honestly.


    A beginner adventurer could easily farm at least 1,000 Mana Stones on a standard run. But considering how much I had sacrificed for my real goal, this amount was understandable.


    After all, a large portion of my Mana Stones had been used as an offering at the Vault of Aether¡ªthe altar where I had obtained that peculiar relic: a hexagonal artifact, engraved with intricate, cryptic patterns¡ªwhich can lead to a great fortune.


    But beyond raw currency, I had gained far more valuable rewards¡ªitems that would shape my journey in the long run.


    The Fangbone Scepter, a powerful weapon that had carried me through every fight so far.


    The Talisman of the Ursine Spirit, a rare and formidable artifact that significantly boosted my strength.


    A boost of luck from the Golden Harpy, something any adventurer would kill for.


    Ooborosk¡¯s Egg, which had granted me a new passive skill. And lastly, the Ooborosk Soul Fragment¡ªits power still a mystery, but undeniably potent.


    Any one of these would have been considered a major haul for a first-time adventurer. To obtain them all in a single run?


    Unheard of.


    The total value of my loot was beyond extraordinary.


    Of course, this also meant that if word got out¡­ I would become a target. Greedy eyes would turn toward me. Rivals, envious adventurers, and possibly worse.


    I needed to be careful when I returned to the city. My success was not something to be flaunted. The moment I became careless, I would invite dangerous, unwanted attention¡ªand in this world, jealousy often led to disaster.


    ***


    Before long, the clock struck noon.


    A familiar, disorienting sensation washed over me¡ªa strange, fleeting discomfort, as if the very fabric of reality was shifting.


    And just like that¡­


    My first Tower exploration had come to an end.

 Chapter 16 - Unexpected Duel (3)

    ¡°Eryndor!¡±


    A familiar voice called out from behind me. I turned to see Orin, running toward me with an eager expression. I raised a hand in greeting.


    ¡°Hey,¡± I replied casually.


    ¡°How was your adventure? It¡¯s good to see you back in one piece.¡± Orin panted slightly, still catching her breath.


    I smiled, but before I could respond, her eyes widened in excitement.


    ¡°Whoa¡ªyour antlers! They¡¯ve grown a little, haven¡¯t they?¡± she asked enthusiastically.


    Instinctively, my fingers brushed against the small, budding antlers on my head. A druid¡¯s antlers were a direct manifestation of their power¡ªthe larger and more radiant they were, the stronger the druid.


    ¡°Well, well. It seems I¡¯ve been making progress,¡± I mused.


    ¡°Now, about that promise¡ªyou said you¡¯d pay me back after our exploration.¡± I smirked, reminding her of the wager she had made before we entered the Tower.


    ¡°Wow, Eryndor¡ªbehave!¡± she feigned exasperation, rolling her eyes, and chuckled. ¡°I haven¡¯t even had time to breathe yet! Let¡¯s regroup first¡ªthen I¡¯ll treat you to a meal.¡±


    I stretched my arms with a grin. ¡°It¡¯s been far too long since I had a decent meal.¡± Then, with a teasing glint in my eye, I added, ¡°I hope you have enough Mana Stones.¡±


    ***


    At exactly midday on the 26th day, the Tower would close its doors, forcing every adventurer inside to return to the city. However, despite spending what felt like weeks inside, only a single day would have passed outside.


    The flow of time within the Tower was fundamentally different from that of the outside world. One hour in the city equated to an entire day inside the Tower. And since adventurers could only enter on the first day of the month, it meant that today was already the second day in the city.


    Every adventurer would be forcibly teleported back to the city¡¯s central plaza, where the Tower stood. Luckily, I had emerged not too far from my group¡¯s previous rendezvous point.


    We made our way toward our team¡¯s meeting spot, where instructor Vallen would be waiting. It took no more than fifteen minutes before I spotted her¡ªa tall, imposing figure wrapped in a deep crimson robe, a signature of her.


    Her expression was stern, but I could see faint traces of worry on her face as she scanned the area, searching for the druids under her command.


    Orin, still brimming with excitement, rushed ahead¡ªbut just as she neared instructor Vallen¡ª


    Thud!


    A burly, rat-faced man deliberately shouldered into her, nearly knocking her off balance.


    ¡°Well, well, well¡­ Look who we have here,¡± the brute sneered, his beady eyes locking onto mine with mocking amusement.


    I instantly recognized him. One of the fuckers.


    And as if summoned, his sleazy, wiry companion stepped forward¡ªa man named Fletcher, an archer known for his sharp tongue and smug arrogance.


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    ¡°Hey, Fletcher,¡± he grinned, nudging him. ¡°Why don¡¯t you say hello to our little friend?¡±


    Fletcher smirked. ¡°Oh? Looks like our dear little druid found himself a girlfriend,¡± he jeered. His sharp gaze flickered to Orin before settling back on me. ¡°Hey, nerdy wizard, maybe you should take some notes from him.¡±


    The wizard in their group¡ªclearly just as despised by the archer as we were¡ªshot Fletcher a cold, hateful glare but said nothing.


    Before I could reply, I felt a heavy weight settle on my shoulder.


    A large, muscular man had placed a thick, calloused hand on me, pressing down with deliberate force. It was their leader, the muscular warrior¡ªa towering figure, grinning wickedly as he applied pressure.


    ¡°How¡¯s your head, huh?¡± he taunted, his grip tightening. ¡°Next time, maybe you should stay in the forest¡ªwhere you belong, with your little deer friends.¡± The others laughed cruelly, reveling in their own mockery.


    ¡°L-Leave us alone!¡± Orin snapped, her voice trembling, her fists clenched at her sides. The rat-face guy grinned maliciously. ¡°Shut your mouth, bitch,¡± he spat, shoving Orin roughly.


    I felt my anger surge. My hands balled into fists, but before I could respond¡ª


    ¡°Hey!¡± A sharp, commanding voice cut through the tension. It was instructor Vallen. She strode toward us, her crimson robes billowing behind her. Her tone was firm, authoritative. ¡°Enough. Leave them alone. I¡¯ve already called the Royal Guard.¡±


    Guz snorted, eyes flashing with contempt.


    ¡°Well, well. Look who it is. The mother deer has arrived,¡± he mocked, his massive frame turning toward instructor Vallen. ¡°Think I¡¯m scared of you?¡± Guz smirked, cracking his knuckles. ¡°Get lost before I snap those cursed antlers of yours.¡±


    Without hesitation, Orin and I moved closer to Vallen¡ªsafety lay in numbers.


    Fletcher chuckled, tossing a piece of trash in our direction as we walked away. ¡°Take care of your girlfriend. I heard druid girls scream loudly.¡±


    I stopped in my tracks. I turned slowly. And then, with a deliberate smirk, I met their gaze and asked, ¡°Tell me¡­ did you enjoy the bonfire I prepared for you?¡±


    Silence.


    I let my words sink in before adding, my tone dripping with mockery, ¡°Thanks to you all, I feel incredibly lucky back then.¡±


    Guz¡¯s face twisted with rage. He definitely knew what I meant.


    His skin flushed red, veins bulging along his thick neck. His teeth clenched, eyes burning with raw fury.


    ¡°You little shit,¡± he growled. ¡°I challenge you to a duel!¡±


    ***


    Dueling was an ancient tradition in the Kingdom of Asterion.


    Though brawls were strictly forbidden within city limits, adventurers were allowed to settle disputes formally through a sanctioned duel. Once both parties agreed, the match would be officially recorded and witnessed by the Royal Guard.


    The rules were simple: The fight continued until one of the duelists could no longer fight¡ªor until death.


    Instructor Vallen whirled on me, her expression fierce.


    ¡°Eryndor Leafshade! This is reckless!¡± she hissed, clearly furious.


    I placed a calm hand on instructor Vallen¡¯s  shoulder. ¡°Relax, instructor.¡± Then, turning to the challenger, I responded smoothly, ¡°Fine. But only if you¡¯re willing to wager your warhammer.¡±


    He grinned savagely. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry,¡± he sneered. ¡°After this, I¡¯ll be taking everything you own.¡±


    The Royal Guard stepped forward, recording the duel¡¯s terms before raising a hand, channeling a spell. A large, translucent barrier erupted around us¡ªa shimmering dome of energy, enclosing both me and Guz inside.


    Its purpose was clear.


    To contain our battle¡ªensuring no harm befell the spectators outside.


    The Royal Guard¡¯s voice rang out, ¡°Eryndor Leafshade and Guz Winston! Take your positions!¡±


    Beyond the barrier, instructor Vallen¡¯s face creased with worry. She had warned me repeatedly not to do this¡ªand yet, I ignored her. Orin looked close to tears, terror written all over her face. The other young druids whispered anxiously amongst themselves.


    Their fear was justified.


    Druids specialized in support magic. They fought from a distance, using nature¡¯s power to heal, enhance, and protect.


    And I was about to face a brute-force warrior in direct combat.


    By all logic¡ªthis should have been my certain defeat.