The moment Asher stepped through the glowing barrier, the world around him shifted.
The ruined city, the distant lights, the noise of hunters outside all of it vanished.
He was somewhere else.
The sky above was endless black, dotted with faint white stars, like a void stretching into infinity. The air smelled different heavy, thick, tinged with something unnatural.
Before him stretched a vast stone bridge, leading to a massive floating platform. The bridge was lined with towering statues, each depicting a figure wrapped in flowing robes some angelic, others monstrous.
The moment Asher took a step forward, a voice echoed through the void.
[Welcome to the Tower.]
The voice wasn't human. It was deep, ancient layered, as if multiple voices were speaking at once.
[First Floor: Trial of the Chosen.]
A soft chime rang in the air.
Asher felt it immediately.
A pressure.
An invisible weight settling over him. Something was watching.
He didn't know who or what.
But he could feel them.
Waiting.
Watching.
Judging.
Other hunters had arrived.
Asher wasn't alone.
A dozen figures materialized on the stone platform—some in combat gear, others in elaborate robes.
Hunters.
He recognized a few guild-affiliated members by their insignias. Some carried massive weapons, others held magical artifacts humming with power.
They were stronger than him.
At least, on paper.
A bright flash of light erupted in the sky, forming golden text that hung in the air.
[First Floor Rules:]
1. Defeat all other participants.
2. Only one may proceed.
3. No outside interference is allowed.
A ripple of unease passed through the gathered hunters.
Asher remained still.
A battle royale.
Some of the weaker hunters paled. A few hesitated, glancing around at their competition.
Then, a deep booming laugh broke the silence.
A man stepped forward, cracking his knuckles.
He was massive, nearly seven feet tall, dressed in thick armor, a massive war axe resting against his shoulder. His guild insignia gleamed on his chest Silver Fangs.
A well-known B-Rank guild.
"Looks like we're doing this the hard way," he rumbled.
Then, without hesitation he swung his axe.
The moment the axe cleaved through the air, chaos erupted.
Hunters scattered, diving for cover. Spells ignited, blades clashed, and the once-silent platform exploded into violence.
Asher didn't move.
He stood at the edge of the battlefield, watching. Calculating.
A hunter wielding twin daggers rushed him from behind.
A mistake.
Asher sidestepped effortlessly, twisting his body to avoid the strike.
Before the man could react, Asher's foot snapped out, striking his knee.
A sickening crack.
The hunter screamed, collapsing to the ground.
Asher grabbed his wrist, twisted and drove his own dagger into his throat.
Blood sprayed.
One down.
Asher let the body drop.
He felt nothing.
More hunters fell. The battlefield was a blur of movement, screams, and flashes of magic.
Asher fought with precision, not wasting movement, not wasting breath.
A sword cut toward him. He tilted his head slightly, the blade missing him by inches.
His fist lashed out. The attacker's nose shattered.
Another came from behind. Asher didn't turn.
His shadow did.
A dark tendril lashed out from the ground, wrapping around the hunter's ankle.
The man barely had time to scream before he was yanked off his feet, slammed into the stone floor with enough force to crack bone.
Asher froze.
He hadn't commanded it.
It had moved on its own.
He exhaled.
It was waking up.
And he wasn't afraid.
Minutes passed.
The battlefield grew silent.
The final survivor stood across from Asher the massive B-Rank warrior from Silver Fangs.
He was injured, breathing hard, his armor stained with blood but still standing.
His eyes locked onto Asher.
"You're strong," he admitted, rolling his shoulders. "Stronger than a D-Rank has any right to be."
Asher said nothing.
The man grinned.
"Let's see how strong you really are."
Then, he charged.
Asher moved.
Faster.
Sharper.
He met the charge head-on, stepping into the warrior's space. A feint. A pivot. A counter.
His blade slashed across the man's ribs, cutting deep.
The warrior stumbled and Asher struck again.
Once. Twice. Three times.
A rapid, brutal flurry of blows.
The man tried to swing his axe. Too slow.
Asher dodged. His shadow surged forward, wrapping around the warrior's legs.
A final strike to the throat.
The warrior collapsed.
And Asher stood alone.
A deep chime rang through the air.
[Trial Complete.]
The text in the sky changed.
[Asher Damien – First Floor Conqueror.]
[Proceeding to Second Floor.]
A golden portal appeared before him.
Asher exhaled slowly, stepping forward.
He was climbing this tower.
And he would burn it down.