The fourth floor of the Tower, aptly named The Crimson Thicket, had a reputation that sent chills through even the bravest climbers. Its terrain was infamous—a haunted forest of twisted, blood-red trees and undergrowth that seemed to pulse with a faint inner glow.
A heavy, metallic stench of iron permeated the air, mingling with the lingering scent of old blood that clung to every leaf and root. For new climbers, the fourth floor was a place to avoid at all costs unless one had a well-prepared party or was already bound to a faction. The entire area was eerie, with its bloody-red hue casting an ominous glow on everything it touched.
As Reece emerged on this floor, he appeared right in the midst of a violent battle. A horde of blood goblins, their feral eyes gleaming with bloodlust, clashed against a large pack of frenzied bloodhounds, their jaws snapping and muscles coiled, seeking to rip their enemies to shreds. The moment Reece materialized, both factions paused, thrown into stunned silence at the sudden arrival of a dark-clad masked figure. In the instant he landed, the two monsters fighting at his position were crushed, their bodies flattened with a resounding BOOM !.
"Ugh," Reece muttered in disgust, his gaze drifting down to his once-pristine boots, now smeared with entrails and blood. "I really need to adjust [Dimensional Traverser] to land me in less… messy locations."
The battlefield, momentarily shocked by his appearance, had now shifted focus from their bloody feud to the intruding figure. The frenzied monsters, sensing a new presence, seemed to instinctively understand that this strange humanoid was no ordinary opponent. The blood goblins and hounds, usually sworn enemies, redirected their aggression toward him, their eyes glowing with an unsettling, mindless rage.
Reece sighed as he finished scraping the blood and gore off his boots. "Well, if nothing else, this does save me the trouble of searching for the next set of mobs. The Tower's quest here is simple enough: kill a set number of blood goblins and bloodhounds."
"For someone who could kill with a flick of a finger, you're quite the clean freak, Master," Prima teased, her voice a mix of amusement and exasperation.
"Shut up, look, if I were wearing your armor, you'd be ranting in pure fury, casting [Purge] every two seconds!" he shot back, already activating the spell in question. [Purge] was an elemental spell of his own design, a sophisticated incantation that disintegrated any target down to its atomic structure, erasing its presence entirely. The spell was immensely powerful and, as its name suggested, left no trace of whatever it touched.
Prima's tone grew serious. "Master, using [Purge] on this scale is… well, excessive. You're wielding an immortal-tier spell while your cores haven't even gotten at archmage level and they're at artisan stage. That's dangerous."
"Don't worry, I've reduced its range and power. I'm not going full throttle." With a flick of his wrist, Reece activated the spell, and a gray, circular formation took shape around him, expanding outward. Ancient runes, etched in primal energy, glowed faintly as they carved themselves into the air, pulsing with power. The circle spread slowly, radiating outward and consuming everything it touched.
The effect was instantaneous. As the formation passed over the horde, the frenzied monsters halted mid-stride, their forms flickering as they were reduced to fine dust. No screams, no desperate cries—just silence as the ash of their remains scattered in the wind. Some creatures, still unaware of the spell's effect, continued their mindless charge, only to dissolve the moment they crossed the boundary, their bodies simply vanishing in an instant.
To any observer, it would have been a scene pulled from a nightmare: a once-roaring battlefield reduced to a silent barren landscape covered in gray mounds of ash. Trees, shrubs, and even patches of blood-red grass had been cleared away, leaving an unnatural stillness in the wake of Reece's spell.
"Well, that's one way to clear a floor," Reece muttered, glancing at the now silent, ash-laden landscape. His boots were pristine once more, his surroundings no longer tainted by blood or mud. He checked his status panel, satisfied to see that his level had jumped from three to five, progressing far faster than he had anticipated.
"Let's move on, then," he said, a glint of excitement in his eyes. "Time to find Liz."
With a few swift movements, he prepared [Dimensional Traverser] again, tweaking the spell to ensure he'd appear in a relatively safe spot near the fifth floor's entrance. As the portal materialized before him, he took a final look around, feeling an odd sense of satisfaction at the desolation he had left behind.
Then, with a quick step forward, he vanished into the portal, leaving the barren, silent clearing behind.
*****************
[Random climber's POV, 4th Floor]
Jake, a newly-minted climber, had joined the Tower with aspirations as lofty as any other. Like many before him, he'd been drawn to the Tower by stories of power and glory, tales of ascension and the mysteries that awaited. But the tutorial had shattered his illusions, forcing him to face mortality head-on. Only his rudimentary skill in mana sense and sheer luck had allowed him to survive the grueling first zones. Now, with a small party he'd cobbled together from tutorial survivors, Jake had made it to the 4th floor's Crimson Thicket, hoping to tackle this floor as a team.
"Alright, let's take a breather," Jake called to his group, wiping sweat from his brow. They had just dispatched a small pack of blood goblins and hounds, and the group was using the brief respite to recharge their mana cores before pressing forward.
They were all on edge—the blood-soaked trees, the oppressive silence, the thick scent of iron—it made the air feel heavy, suffocating even. Every shadow seemed to pulse, every rustle felt like a predator waiting to pounce. Here, any mistake could mean death.
"Jake! Jake! You need to see this!" one of his comrades called out, a female scout who had climbed up a slight ridge to check their surroundings. Though her back was turned, he could see her shoulders trembling slightly, an unusual sign of alarm from someone as level-headed as her.
"What is it?" he asked, moving to her side, his pulse quickening at the tone in her voice.
As he reached the crest and looked down, he froze, his breath catching in his throat. "Guys… you need to see this!" he called out, barely able to keep his voice steady.
One by one, the rest of the party gathered beside him, and the same shock rippled through them as they took in the sight.
In front of them stretched a vast expanse, over a hundred miles in area, where everything—trees, plants, monsters, everything—had been erased. The land was barren, covered only in ashen dust piled in eerie gray mounds. The blood-red trees had vanished, replaced by a ghostly silence that felt even more oppressive than before. The air itself seemed different, the mana around them unsettled and erratic, hinting at the sheer power that had swept through this place.
One of Jake's comrades whispered, his voice shaking, "It's… like the whole forest was incinerated in an instant."
Another climber, their healer, clutched her staff tightly, her face pale. "This isn't normal. No spell, no attack we know could do this… at least, not from someone who belongs on a floor this low."
Jake swallowed, fear clawing at his throat. His mind raced, thinking of the tales of high-ranking climbers who could devastate entire landscapes. But those climbers operated on higher floors. There was no reason for a climber of that caliber to be here, on the fourth floor, with fresh recruits like them.
"Everyone, we're heading back. Now." His voice was firm, unyielding. They had barely made it through the tutorial—there was no way they were prepared for the kind of power it would take to create this wasteland.
No one argued. With grim faces and an unspoken understanding, the group activated their teleportation charms, disappearing one by one from the eerie, dust-covered scene. They would report this to the Adventurer's Association. Whatever force had passed through the fourth floor, it was beyond anything they could comprehend, and the Association needed to know.