The next corridor stretched endlessly before Rainey, its narrow walls almost suffocating as the dim light from the runes barely illuminated his path. His body ached, the aftermath of the previous trial weighing heavily on his shoulders. Every step felt heavier than the last, his limbs tired, his mind buzzing with thoughts of the encounter with his reflection.
He couldn't shake the feeling that the trial had been more than just a fight. Facing the reflection again had forced him to confront something deeper—something about the very nature of the tower and his own place within it. But he was too drained to fully process it now.
The corridor opened into another chamber, and Rainey's eyes swept over the area. The chamber was vast, larger than the others he had passed through, but something about it felt off. The air was tense, heavy with a quiet intensity. There were no glowing symbols of safety, no obvious indications that this was a place of rest. It looked calm, but Rainey knew better than to trust appearances in the tower.
He moved cautiously, his grip on his sword tightening as he approached the center of the chamber. His instincts told him this was not a place to let his guard down. He was about to find a quiet corner to rest when he heard the unmistakable sound of voices—muffled at first, but growing louder as he moved deeper into the chamber.
Rainey stopped, pressing himself against the cold stone wall. He listened carefully, trying to make sense of the conversation. As he peered around the corner, his heart sank.
A group of six climbers stood gathered in a loose circle, surrounding a lone figure who knelt on the ground. The lone climber was badly injured, his breathing labored, blood dripping from a gash on his forehead. His attackers loomed over him, their weapons drawn, their expressions cold and calculating.
"You should've known better than to try to climb alone," one of the attackers said, his voice dripping with mockery. He was tall, his armor gleaming in the faint light, and he held a long spear crackling with a dangerous energy. "Weaklings like you don't belong on these floors."
The injured climber said nothing, his head bowed, his body trembling from the pain.
Rainey's hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. He had never encountered other climbers before, and now that he had, it was clear these weren't people to be trusted. They weren't just intimidating the lone climber—they were toying with him, enjoying their dominance like predators circling their prey.
This isn't a fight. It's a hunt.
The leader of the group stepped forward, his spear raised high. "Time to put you out of your misery."
Rainey's breath caught in his throat. He knew what was coming next. The injured climber didn't stand a chance.
Before he could stop himself, Rainey stepped out from the shadows.
"That's enough," he said, his voice sharp as he moved toward the group, his sword drawn and ready. The attackers turned to face him, surprised by his sudden appearance.
The leader sneered, his grip on the spear tightening. "And who the hell are you?"
Rainey's heart raced, but he kept his voice steady. "Does it matter? Leave him alone."
The climbers exchanged glances, amusement flickering in their eyes. To them, Rainey must have looked like just another challenger—a fool who didn't know when to stay out of other people's fights.
"You're outnumbered," the leader said, taking a step toward Rainey, his eyes narrowing with menace. "You should turn around and walk away while you still can."
"I'm not walking away," Rainey replied, his tone icy. "And you don't want this fight."
The leader laughed, but there was no humor in it. His eyes glinted with malice as he raised his spear, pointing it directly at Rainey. "I've got six fighters with me. You've got a death wish."
The other climbers shifted, readying themselves for the inevitable confrontation. Rainey's pulse quickened, and his mind raced. He didn't know these people, but he knew he couldn't stand by and watch this slaughter unfold. He might be outnumbered, but he had faced worse odds before.
"You've got one chance," the leader said, his voice low. "Walk away."
Rainey held his ground. He had no intention of walking away, even if it meant facing down six climbers at once. "No."
The leader's face twisted with anger. Without warning, he lunged forward, thrusting his spear at Rainey with deadly precision. Rainey dodged to the side, barely avoiding the crackling tip of the weapon, and swung his sword in a wide arc. The blade clashed against the spear, sparks flying as the two weapons met.
The leader snarled, pulling back and readying for another strike. But Rainey was quicker than he expected. With a swift movement, Rainey sidestepped and delivered a sharp kick to the leader's side, knocking him off balance.
The other climbers rushed forward, their weapons gleaming in the dim light. Rainey's heart pounded as he prepared himself for the fight. He knew he couldn't take them all on directly, but he didn't have to. He just needed to keep moving, stay one step ahead.
The first attacker swung a heavy axe at Rainey's side. Rainey ducked, dodging the blow, and countered with a quick slash of his sword, forcing the attacker back. Another climber came at him with twin blades, moving in a blur, but Rainey managed to parry the strikes, his muscles burning from the effort.
He could feel the pressure mounting. Six against one—it was a losing battle. But Rainey didn't give in to the fear. He couldn't afford to. He had faced the tower's trials, fought creatures more fearsome than these climbers. He wasn't going to lose here.
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through Rainey's shoulder as one of the climbers' attacks broke through his defenses. He stumbled back, his vision blurring for a moment from the shock of the injury. Blood dripped from the wound, but he didn't falter. He couldn't afford to.
The leader advanced again, spear raised high, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of the hunt. "You're finished."
Rainey clenched his jaw, refusing to give in. I've made it this far. I'm not going to fall now.
But just as the leader moved in for the kill, a sharp whistle cut through the air, and a dagger embedded itself in the ground between them. Rainey and the attackers froze, turning toward the source of the interruption.
A figure stepped out from the shadows, his face obscured by a hood, but his presence immediately commanded attention. He held another dagger in his hand, twirling it casually between his fingers.
"Back off," the newcomer said, his voice calm but laced with authority. "Unless you want to make this your last fight."
The leader's eyes flashed with anger, but he hesitated, clearly assessing the newcomer's skill. After a tense moment, he spat on the ground and motioned for his group to retreat. "This isn't over," he growled, glaring at Rainey before turning to leave with his followers.
Rainey exhaled, his muscles relaxing slightly as the danger passed. The injured climber remained on the ground, weak but alive.
The hooded figure approached, offering Rainey a faint nod. "You shouldn't have gotten involved," he said, though there was no malice in his voice.
Rainey wiped the blood from his blade, his chest still heaving from the fight. "I couldn't stand by and watch."
The hooded man looked at him for a long moment before replying, "Next time, be more careful. You're not the only one climbing, and the tower doesn't just test your strength. It tests your mind and your choices."
Without another word, the man disappeared into the darkness, leaving Rainey alone with the injured climber.