I was always proud. A little conceited, as my brother always told me. Having an intelligence stat of 100—far above enough to elicit envy even from a Silver—I was content with my life despite failing to awaken an Aspect.

So what if I failed to awaken an Aspect? I was more useful than one with an aspect. I had always believed this. Not anymore. It wasn't like I had any other chances anyway. I was going to die.

I coughed. The metallic tint of blood assaulted my taste buds. A cold, shining metal pierced through my heart, and my silver hair, mangled and soaked in blood, cascaded on my shoulder. Through my blurred vision, I tried to imprint the face of the man holding the other end of the metal.

"Why?" I choked out, my voice barely a whisper.

His expression was unreadable, his eyes cold and distant. "You should die," he said simply as if stating an undeniable truth.

The words echoed in my mind, mingling with the memories of my past. The day I failed to awaken an Aspect. The day my dreams shattered. The day the system, always silent and indifferent, had spoken for the first and only time:

[You should die…]

Tears welled in my eyes, mixing with the blood on my cheeks. I didn't want to die. Not like this. Not after everything I had endured.

But my body was failing me. My breath came in shallow gasps, each one more painful than the last. My heart, pierced and broken, struggled to beat.

"This is what happens when someone forgets their place," the man said, his voice cold and merciless.

Silver's words didn't hurt anymore. It was my inner turmoil, burning my incentives, twisting my soul into tearing agony.

And then everything disappeared, followed by a metallic chiming in my ears.

[Congratulations. You have died.]

[Aspect awakening… Initializing aspect.]

[Congratulations for awakening the aspect: Endless Death.]

[Endless Death: Every time you die, the cause of your death will become your power. The more unique and gruesome the cause, the stronger your power will grow.]

With that, the surroundings around me shifted. Snapping my eyes open, my gaze fixed on the retreating back of the man who killed me. No. Awakened me.

[You got a new affinity: Fire]

[You learned two minor skills.]

[Thrust (Minor): Lvl 1 (0%)]

[Trait: Magic damage increases by 10%]

[Flash Strike (Minor): Lvl 1 (0%)]

[Trait: Magic movement increases 200%]

I hardly registered the voices in my head as my mind wandered through the events that led me to this condition. 

* 

* * 

One day before I took that job.....

"Zane, which path should we take?" asked Jake, the only warrior in my training party.

My gaze fell upon the eager faces of the youngsters before me, then toward the path diverging into two parts.

I was leading a party of four newly awakened, ranging from early to mid-Iron at best. I was an Orchestrator. My sole job was to guide adventurers through their first test of the guild.

A smile graced my lips, which I quickly hid behind a calm act. I always enjoyed my job. Guiding awakeners with infinite possibilities who waited anxiously for the command of someone stagnated infinitely until her death, created a sugary taste in my throat.

"One is towards the Forest of Goblins." I could feel the tense atmosphere of the group lessen considerably. A smirk appeared on my lips.

"The other is towards the Swamp of Death." The grim atmosphere returned instantly.

"T-then…" Nyla, the archer in the party, pointed her finger in a direction. "…The path to Goblin Forest, is it?"

"No. We are going to the swamp."

My answer stunned the tomboyish girl, widening her eyes. Upon noticing my teasing gaze, she quickly covered her mouth. Cute.

My gaze then trailed over Jake, Kane the assassin, and finally stopped at the golden-haired boy in the group. I saw surprise and understanding in his eyes rather than the dumbfounded looks of the others. So keen! Ronin was his name. Perhaps a legatee. I made a mental note.

Legatees were descendants of Climbers who had successfully challenged at least five floors of the tower. They possessed knowledge that common brawlers on the lower floors lacked. I heard from my brother that floor five was the real turning point of a Climber.

"Ronin, anything you wanted to say?"

Ronin recoiled from his reverie. He bowed before asking. _Oh, a good-natured boy._

"No offense, untapped Zane." Not so good-natured. Untapped was the common name given to aspectless people like me. In a derogatory term. My impression of him fell below zero.

"…Goblins in the outer section of the forest are Tier 1 mid at best, level 6 at maximum. But in the swamp, the minions of Bloodtooth are at least level 7 in Tier 1, and Bloodtooth itself is a Tier 1 Beast. Meanwhile, in our team, except for me and Jake, Nyla, and Kane are level 4 in Iron." He looked at me in confusion.

The strength of monsters not only depends on their tiers but also on their classifications. A Tier 1 Ordinary monster was like an ant before a Tier 1 Beast. A Tier 1 Beast could only become cannon fodder before a Tier 1 Elite. And so on. (Ordinary, Beast, Elite, Lord, Calamity, Tyrant, Terror and Titan).

While technically an Iron-ranked adventurer could take down a Tier 1 monster, if the monster had high classes, it would be difficult—if not impossible. On the first floor, the strongest monster ever to appear was a Tier 1 Elite. Even then, it took a party of Bronze-ranked adventurers to take it down.

"Hm… so?" I tilted my head at the golden-haired brat. Ronin was a battle mage. Unlike the others, he had unlocked a subclass the moment he chose his path—one of the most talented adventurers I had led. 

Ronin gritted his teeth at me. Defiance.

I had already sensed his dissatisfaction with me—an unranked adventurer—leading the party the moment he saw me. Only because the guild ordered them to follow my lead if they wanted to be chosen into the guild did he bury his grievance inside his petty stomach.

It appeared to be sprouting now. I curled the corner of my lips, provoking him further. Pfft, how funny.

I didn't need to study the expressions of the others to feel the uncertainty creeping into them. I locked my palms behind my back.

"Who has the most mana capacity here?" I asked, turning my gaze toward the path to the swamp. They looked at each other before Nyla stepped forward.

"M-me." She had a slight stammer when anxious. The rest of the time, she was fine.

I nodded at the blushing little girl. Calling her a little girl would be a bit of a stretch, as both of us were at most two years apart.

Still, she became an Iron before me. I sighed.

"How much? 100? 120?"

"90." She bit her lip. I curled the lock of silver hair that had fallen across my face behind my ear.

With a mere 9 in intelligence, she became a mage adored by the guild. If I awakened an aspect, even if it was F-rank, with my mana capacity of 1000, I should have been chosen as a disciple by higher beings. Alas, the world had lost a talented person. I cringed.

Shrugging my shoulders, I muttered, all while acting disappointed by their foolishness.

"It's true that most goblins there are in the initial stages of Tier 1. They are weaker, I know, and easily beatable even by me. But do you guys forget what kind of monsters goblins are?"

I watched them fall into silence as my words helped them grasp something they had conveniently forgotten. A newbie mistake. It was not the first time I saw it on beginner adventurers.

Against monsters, a simple mistake might kill you. Newbie or master.

Goblins, despite being weak, were among the most dangerous monsters on the first floor. They were smart, cunning, and, above all, hoarders. Meaning attacking a single goblin could result in being besieged by a group.

Just because goblins were useless in the grand scheme of things, they weren't easy targets. They were akin to a final boss for newbie adventurers. 

They could fight against ten goblins easily. Twenty might be a stretch. But what about fifty? What about a hundred? What if a hobgoblin appeared?

Chances were low for that, anyway. After all, they were in the outer area of the forest. Factually stating, a training area created by the guild.

The most powerful monsters had likely already been cleared out by the guild, leaving weaker opponents for newbie adventurers to train against.

Ronin was the first to return to his senses. He bowed again. This time, I almost rolled my eyes. What now, little brat?

"Unta—"

I stopped him with my palm. It felt like he was trying to sting me again and again with that greeting.

"Don't forget your mission today, Ronin." I hardened my voice. "It's not about how many monsters you kill. It's about which party plants the flag first." I pointed at the red flag in Kane's hand.

"Fighting against goblins may be easy, but it is so time-consuming. There's also the chance of being ambushed by a large number of them. Even without a hobgoblin, how long do you guys think you can continue fighting?

And if you succeed in fighting through a group, everyone will be stained with the blood of those greenish abominations.

Wouldn't that be like announcing our presence from a mile away with a loudspeaker?"

I watched Ronin's face change colors like a chameleon. I wanted to tease him further, but I decided against it. Currently, they might be under my leadership and obligated to follow my lead if they wanted to secure a spot in the guild.

However, things would be different after they joined the guild. In no time, a talented person like Ronin would climb the actual first floor and upgrade into a Climber from a mere adventurer. Our positions would turn 180 at that time.

I didn't want to offend a potential Climber. I cleared my throat, tuning down my voice a little.

"Has anyone wondered the reason for this odd test of planting a flag to be chosen into the guild?"

They looked at each other before turning to me, waiting for my answer. I smiled. A pure, delightful happiness I genuinely showed.

It was always my style to play emotions with my trainees in a way that, at the end of training, they would have a favorable impression of me. I could calmly lead them without flaring their inner pride. But that would make me a normal, uninteresting character on the first page of their life.

I didn't want that. I wanted to make an impact on them so they would always remember me as the unranked adventurer who opened the door of possibilities to them—not the random stranger they had met as a procedure.

I have been an Orchestrator for two years now. I had led countless parties in their assessment, and all of them secured a position in the guild. Some of them still contacted me from time to time. Most of these contacts became Climbers and ascended to higher floors.

That was all I wanted—to become a character they recalled from time to time when they escaped danger because of my teachings.

"Zane…" Jack called me. I saw a slight blush on his face. Only then did I remember I was smiling like an idiot staring at them. I wanted to cover my face and groan.

'Zane, ah Zane. You zoned out again.' I coughed, gulping my embarrassment down.

"The main reason for this test is to inject critical thinking into you."

"Critical thinking?" Jake frowned. A common expression for a warrior like him. I nodded.

"Yes. It's always to climb the floor, not clean it. Unlike gates, monsters in the tower are endless. They always spawn in minutes. So a successful Climber should always remember their purpose in a challenge is not killing but to reach the end."

I waited to hear any doubts from them. All my trainees had some opposing statements against my words. But, improving my mood, the four of them just nodded in understanding.

"However, that's different for one trying to earn experience points and equipment. But that's not under my judiciary to teach, and I have no knowledge to teach. After all, I have no experience in it." I curled my lips into a smile.

Anyway, my speech happened to hit a sore spot in my trainees. They all acknowledged my words as Kane, the silent guy in the party, opened his mouth to speak.

"True. Goblins are dangerous in groups. But swamp monsters… seem even worse."

I adjusted my cloak, pulling it closer as the cold breeze brushed against my skin.

"First, they are territorial. Meaning the chances of us meeting more than one is low to zero. Second, they never actively hunt unless hungry. Third…."

With my last words, the group followed me to the swamp. The damp, musty scent assaulted our noses.