Chapter 67: To Surpass a Legend

The moment I reached the Tower and placed my hand on the massive doors, a flash of light burst forth, followed by an alert window.

<Would Tower Trials? challenge like of the to you>

The “Tower of Trials.” In a way, it was an unembellished, almost dull name, but I found myself liking its simplicity. As soon as I tapped “Yes,” the tightly shut doors creaked open. I stepped inside without hesitation, and the doors slammed shut behind me with a heavy thud.

The interior was even more lackluster than the exterior. To be precise, it looked exactly like the outside. There were no stairs dividing floors, nor were there any other doors. Just high walls of weathered gray brick with occasional black windows peering through. I had expected at least a single monster to greet me, but the silence proved me wrong.

…Don’t tell me I’m supposed to manually tear this tower down or something?

Just as the confusion started to set in, a guiding voice whispered in my ear.

[Welcome to the Tower of Trials, Hero BlueberryWhiskey.]

Ugh. I really should have picked a cool IGN like Sephiroth…

While I wallowed in regret, the voice calmly continued its explanation.

[…The Tower of Trials evaluates your achievements and returns the fragments of the power you once lost. The Tower remembers the strength you have forgotten…]

It was the usual spiel I’d heard during the tutorial: this was one of the towers sealed away by the Evil God, and the type of power I’d regain depended on how I cleared it.

I endured the tedious explanation until the final prompt arrived.

[Now, please select your difficulty.]

The answer was already decided.

“Nightmare.”

[Understood. I shall cheer for your journey from here on.]

The interior of the circular tower remained still until the emotionless voice finished. But as the silence returned, the Tower let out a massive, low rumble.

The gray bricks began to deconstruct. The colors of the world blurred and swirled together like watercolor paint on a wet canvas. Transparent, vivid hues merged and overlapped, creating highlights and shadows where none had existed before. In an instant, the ashen interior transformed into a sprawling forest.

It would have been a beautiful sight if not for the fact that those gray bricks had also reassembled themselves into a massive, looming cluster. Far off at the horizon, an endless swarm of monsters cast a gargantuan shadow as they surged toward me.

[Objective: Survive for as long as possible.]

An alarm pinged above my head as if mocking me. I glared at it and took a combat stance. Regardless of the circumstances, my primary goal was to thin out this oncoming tide.

Ah, come to think of it, didn’t they say you get better rewards if you set a new record?

“If I’m doing this, I might as well go for the top spot.”

I gritted my teeth and raised my sword. Knowing that the last record holder was likely Sephiroth made me even more determined not to lose.

At first, it was just waves of Goblins, Ogres, and Golems. The sheer number was suffocating, but since all I had to do was swing my blade mindlessly, it wasn’t particularly difficult.

The true Nightmare difficulty began after that. Monsters that looked like Named bosses started appearing in groups. These Named variants were stronger, faster, and more grotesque than their standard counterparts, often buffed with specific concepts. For instance, the Pixie Queen focused on hallucinations, while the Blue Fire Bat possessed both Water and Fire attributes, making it immune to Fire, Water, and Grass elemental attacks.

The former was manageable, but the latter was a headache. Thanks to that damned curse, I couldn’t use skills or elemental attacks. I had to beat down these Named monsters with nothing but basic strikes—true brute force. My slowed movement speed made dodging a nightmare of its own.

To make matters worse, as I engaged in life-or-death struggles with the current wave, translucent shapes would begin to respawn around the arena. These were the silhouettes of the next wave. If I didn’t finish off my current opponents before those shapes solidified, I’d be forced to fight two sets of Named monsters at once. It was a vicious tactic designed to induce panic.

But the hardest part was the lack of a finish line. The “as long as possible” objective offered no reprieve. In a fight with an end, you can pace yourself. You can cling to hope.

But this was a mental war. The psychological pressure of knowing monsters would spawn until I collapsed from exhaustion was draining. I felt as if I’d been trapped in the Tower for at least an hour. Several times, the thought of giving up crossed my mind, but the competitive urge to shatter Sephiroth’s record kept me standing. My arms were heavy, and my blade felt dull.

The moment I felled five Golden Alligators, three Enhanced Three-Headed Hydras erupted from the earth simultaneously.

“…How much longer is this going to go on?”

Despite the name, these Hydras looked more like giant serpents. If I were being generous, I’d call them head-headed Imugis. They were covered in steel-hard scales—vibrant orange on the sides, white on the belly, and a shimmering gold from the back to the crown. The scales dazzled my eyes as they caught the artificial sunlight.

Each Hydra was the size of a four-story building. Their rounded heads eclipsed the sun, and venom dripped from their six massive fangs. Each drop was the size of a tree trunk. Long, crimson tongues flickered as eighteen eyes glared at me. And there were three of them.

The Hydras’ basic tactic was to herd me into the center. This was for their Stare of Death skill—if all three heads of a single Hydra focused on me at once, I’d be hit with a stun. Unlike other games where your character just stops moving, a stun in Zelpia felt like my actual limbs were paralyzed. It was a revolting sensation I wanted to avoid at all costs.

I twisted my body to escape the enclosure of the nine heads and thrust my sword into a gap in the thick scales. Instead of the sensation of tearing flesh, a jarring vibration traveled up my arm, as if I’d struck solid steel. One of the Hydras thrashed violently.

GYAAAAAH!

“Whoa!”

A tail whipped around faster than the scream, slamming into the spot where I’d just been standing. Sharp scale-spikes erupted from the ground where the tail hit. The other two Hydras followed suit, lashing the earth to expand the “no-go” zones with their spikes. To counter, I stopped running on the ground and began running along the Hydras’ own bodies.

While sprinting across their backs, I noticed something. The color of their scales wasn’t uniform. Between the vibrant orange and the shimmering gold, there were thin lines of a different color. These crimson scales were thin and didn’t shine, making them nearly invisible unless you were looking from up close.

There’s always a reason for hiding something.

Without hesitation, I drove my twin blades into the red line. This time, the sensation of the outer skin tearing reached my hands. As I sliced downward, the blade moved as smoothly as a knife through tofu.

Yes. This is it.

Traveling with Sephiroth meant I was usually facing enemies so strong I couldn’t feel the weight of my own strikes. And when I fought basic Slimes during quests, they died in one hit, which was equally unsatisfying.

True satisfaction comes from landing a decisive blow in the middle of a desperate struggle.

GYAAAAAAAH!

The Hydra shrieked and writhed—not in anger this time, but in genuine agony. The realism was unsettlingly perfect; it felt like I was actually slaying a dragon. A slight sense of elation followed the gore.

Soon, all three Hydras collapsed at my feet, turning into dark corpses. Weaving through heavy attacks to target a thread-thin weakness hadn’t been easy, but fortunately, twin blades were built for precision. I’d made it through.

And then, once again.

“…Please, give me a break.”

A translucent, shimmering silhouette solidified and fixed its gaze on me.

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