[There is no timer until the next floor begins. Please take a rest.] The Leaderboard started off normally—me, Ha Hee-Jeong, Seo Ho-Su, Seo Ha-Rin, Hendrick, Cole, and Rabuye Zrin—until I reached Rabuye Zrin’s name. Currently ranked eighth, Zrin had originally been in eleventh place. I was certain of it as I had checked the rankings while preparing for the fifty-eighth floor with Ha Hee-Jeong. The names of the climbers who had previously occupied the eighth, ninth, and tenth ranks had vanished. Of the three, two had been members of Alexei’s party: a warrior and a priest. The third had been a high-ranking warrior I had interacted with before as well. They weren’t the only ones who had died, either. Many climbers had now edged upward in rank, filling the gaps left behind. If even Hee-Jeong is struggling, then the other trials have to be brutal. I quickly scrolled down, searching for Hakin’s name. A breath I hadn’t realized I was holding finally escaped my chest. Hakin’s name was still there, meaning that none of my party members had perished. The tight coil of tension within me loosened just enough for my shoulders to relax, only for a wave of guilt to replace it almost immediately. The other climbers who died... They also mattered. Most of the top-ranking climbers were familiar faces. They were people I had repeatedly met, exchanged words with, and strategized alongside. That was especially true for Alexei’s party, as we had spent countless hours together. There was nothing I could do now, however. At the end of the day, I was human. No matter how well I knew them, I would always prioritize those closest to me. As I reassured myself, I suddenly realized that this wasn’t over. Unlike me, the others were still fighting their way through the fifty-ninth. That thought had barely settled before the rankings refreshed. The climber in twenty-fourth place disappeared. Along with it, the fleeting sense of relief I had clung to vanished, replaced by a surge of tension, sharp and unrelenting. Holding my breath, I kept my eyes fixed on the ranking board as it continued to update intermittently. Names disappeared, their places quickly filled by those below. Yet, for now, at least Ha Hee-Jeong, Alexei, and the rest of my party remained. I had no idea how long I had been staring when— Doppy’s voice pulled me back to the present. I had been so engrossed in the rankings that I had lost track of my surroundings. Blinking, I lifted my head. “Huh? What?” “How long are you going to keep staring at that? If you’re not training, I’m going to sleep.” Contrary to me, Doppy looked entirely at ease. That was understandable since neither he nor Ryun could see the tower’s system messages. I had no intention of explaining, either. Telling them would only add unnecessary worry. “Go ahead. Sleep first.” Nodding at him, I turned back to the rankings. For the first time, I truly grasped why Ha Hee-Jeong had always messaged me before or after I entered an individual challenge floor. Based on how often she finished them before me, she would watch the rankings just like I was now, her anxiety mounting with every update. My leg bounced restlessly, a physical manifestation of the unease churning inside me. I just wanted them to be safe. Exhaling slowly, I shut my eyes. Please. Let them all make it. Let nothing go wrong. I wasn’t sure who I was praying to. I didn’t believe in any gods. Despite that, the words surfaced naturally, unbidden. I had no idea how much time had passed. When I opened my eyes again, Ha Hee-Jeong was now listed as on the sixtieth floor. I shot up from my seat, a breathless exclamation escaping from my lips. Without realizing it, my knuckles had turned white from clenching. The urge to cry out in relief surged through me, but the emotions hit too fast, too hard, leaving me momentarily stunned. Instead, I exhaled sharply, loosened my grip, and immediately sent her a message. - Kwon Su-Hyeok (Sixtieth Floor): Hee-Jeong, are you okay? It took her less than five seconds to reply, but those seconds seemed to stretch forever. The notification sound echoed within my mind, and only then did the weight in my chest finally ease. Letting out a long, unsteady breath, I collapsed back into my chair. My strength drained all at once, and I read her message. - Ha Hee-Jeong (Sixtieth Floor): Holy shit. Don’t even ask. I almost died. Ha Hee-Jeong had completed an escort mission for the fifty-ninth floor. The top one hundred and fifty climbers had each been tasked with protecting one individual. On the surface, it sounded straightforward, but as expected of the second hardest trial on the fifty-ninth floor, there was a merciless twist. Each climber had been assigned a specific person, and if their charge perished, so did they. The tower hadn’t mentioned that beforehand, making the revelation all the more harrowing. All it said was that the more escort targets survived, the greater the reward. Because of that, the trial had been riddled with danger. The climbers had to set aside their own safety in order to ensure the survival of their assigned targets. Cole’s charge had barely made it, hanging on by a thread at the very end—an explosive trap had obliterated both of his legs. Seo Ha-Rin had fought desperately to keep them alive, while Seo Ho-Su had sprinted madly with them on his back. The rest of my party had endured similarly perilous ordeals. Even Ha Hee-Jeong had come dangerously close to death. Yet somehow, to my relief, my party members had all survived. - Ha Hee-Jeong (Sixtieth Floor): Damn, you messaged me the second I got back. Were you that worried? 😀 - Kwon Su-Hyeok (Sixtieth Floor): Obviously. The top climbers were dropping left and right. How could I not be? And I kept thinking that it was my fault. - Ha Hee-Jeong (Sixtieth Floor): Your fault? If anything, this is somewhat on me. I was the one who told you about the train moving in reverse. Honestly, though, it isn’t anyone’s fault. She was right. Even with all the losses, this hadn’t been on us. Looking at the bigger picture, this had been the best course of action. I had simply let my worry cloud my judgment. - Ha Hee-Jeong (Sixtieth Floor): I know it sounds awful considering all the people who died, but this trial didn’t go that badly. - Kwon Su-Hyeok (Sixtieth Floor): What do you mean? - Ha Hee-Jeong (Sixtieth Floor): It helped the climbers grow a lot. I’m not saying the sacrifices were justified, but the difficulty forced everyone to grow at an insane rate. - Kwon Su-Hyeok (Sixtieth Floor): Really? - Ha Hee-Jeong (Sixtieth Floor): Yeah. And it gave the top climbers some needed experience on how to cooperate. I just said this, but it is a good thing in the long run. With my party accounted for, my thoughts shifted toward others. - Kwon Su-Hyeok (Sixtieth Floor): What about Alexei? How’s she holding up? - Ha Hee-Jeong (Sixtieth Floor): She’s struggling. Even as we were about to clear the floor, she wasn’t smiling like usual. I had expected as much. Despite her easy-going personality, Alexei formed deep bonds with her friends, and they mattered a lot to her. After losing two of her party members, she would be in mourning. - Kwon Su-Hyeok (Sixtieth Floor): Hmm, should I message her now? Maybe just say something to comfort her. - Ha Hee-Jeong (Sixtieth Floor): No, let her be for now. Alexei probably needs some time alone. We can talk to her when we reach the safe zone. - Kwon Su-Hyeok (Sixtieth Floor): You think so? The more I considered it, the more I realized she was right. Words of comfort wouldn’t mean much if she didn’t feel ready to hear them. Waiting until she had somewhat come to terms with the tragedy would be better. Alexei and I were friends, but we weren’t particularly close. If anyone was equipped to navigate interpersonal situations, it was Ha Hee-Jeong. Her judgment in these matters had always been solid. - Kwon Su-Hyeok (Sixtieth Floor): Alright, then send me a party invite. I don’t feel like searching for you again. - Ha Hee-Jeong (Sixtieth Floor): Sure. But let me shower first. I didn’t mention it earlier, but I feel disgusting right now. - Kwon Su-Hyeok (Sixtieth Floor): Oh, yeah? Alright, go ahead. - Ha Hee-Jeong (Sixtieth Floor): Wait, did you shower? You didn’t, did you? - Kwon Su-Hyeok (Sixtieth Floor): Huh? Uh, no. How’d you know? She saw right through me. Then again, she had waited for my return plenty of times before. Maybe she had just formed an educated guess based on experience. - Ha Hee-Jeong (Sixtieth Floor): Obviously. Anyway, I’ll message you after I’m done. You should wash up too. - Kwon Su-Hyeok (Sixtieth Floor): Got it. Closing the message window, I stretched my arms above my head. Suddenly, Ryun remarked, “It seems... you have... resolved... your dilemma....” “Damn it, you startled me.” I had been so caught up in my own head that I hadn’t noticed Ryun. Now that I thought about it, I had left him resting against the desk the moment I arrived in the waiting room. To be honest, I appreciated that Ryun had waited quietly while I sorted through my thoughts. “So... am I... transferring... to that... weapon... now...?” I nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be using this from now on.” Ryun closed his eyes, beginning the transfer process. Branches extended from the Wrath of Yagmur, latching onto Soulbound before leaving the old axe behind. Wooden fibers spread from the base of the handle, reinforcing the grip, while Ryun’s eyes opened between the twin blades of the axe. “Strange... it feels... different....” “Different how? Does something feel off?” I hesitated, recalling that Soulbound contained soul remnants. Although I hadn’t considered it, who knew if they would welcome Ryun’s presence? Are they rejecting him? His eyes were still closed as if deep in contemplation. Feeling a twinge of unease, I questioned him again, “Are they rejecting you?” “No... that is... not the case....” “Then what is happening?” “I... showed them... my memories. They are... pure... souls....” “You shared your memories with them? How is that even possible?” “I am... uncertain. I have been... bound to... a weapon... for so long... and I... no longer know... if I am... still myself... or if I have... fully become... a weapon. But... they wished for it... and I... simply answered... their call....” Ryun’s gaze narrowed slightly, as if lost in contemplation. “They have... high expectations... of you. You should... test the weapon... train with it... see how it handles...” “That’s probably a good idea.” Before tackling the sixty-first floor, I needed to familiarize myself with Soulbound. The blade was still unrefined, seeming raw and incomplete. That could wait, though. Fighting above a sea of lava had left me drenched in sweat, and my skin still felt clammy and uncomfortable. “I’ll do that after I shower.” [3 minutes 12 seconds until the rest period ends. Please take a rest.] The last few climbers had conquered the fifty-ninth floor some time ago. Unsurprisingly, more climbers continued to fall. Unlike in previous trials, where the lower-ranked climbers tended to be the majority of the casualties, deaths were scattered throughout the Leaderboard this time. Roughly six thousand climbers had perished. Though the loss of many top-ranked climbers had been particularly jarring, the number wasn’t unprecedented compared to the number of climbers that had fallen throughout the course of the last nine floors. Ha Hee-Jeong had made sure to reiterate that this was a much better outcome than her previous life. Back then, the lower-ranked climbers had been almost completely wiped out. From a purely strategic perspective, ensuring that the strongest climbers would survive was far more beneficial than saving the weaker ones. However, reality wasn’t quite that simple. Letting the weaker climbers die just so a handful of elites could push forward unscathed wouldn’t be sustainable in the long run. To climb the tower, we couldn’t just scrape by floor after floor. Everyone needed to become strong enough to ascend—that would only be possible through struggle and challenging oneself. That didn’t mean I felt indifferent to the deaths of other climbers. I could feel the weight of their lives settle on me, a quiet exhaustion that seeped into my bones. At least the response in the Community wasn’t as bad as I expected. The potential for widespread outrage or demoralization had worried me. Some climbers, especially those in the lower ranks, often wished for trials tailored to their skill level. I had feared that those who had lost comrades would give up or direct their resentment toward me. Thankfully, that hadn’t been the case. Perhaps some harbored silent grudges, but overall, the sentiment leaned more toward recognizing the trial’s difficulty rather than placing the blame on anyone. The most commented post on the Community confirmed as much. - I feel kind of guilty for surviving through an easy mission. Honestly, wasn’t the fifty-ninth floor just designed to cull weaker climbers? - Hey, you really wanna die that badly? Shut the hell up and think about it. If the top climbers used you guys as sacrifices to clear this floor, then what would happen the next time they ran into this scenario? We still have forty floors to conquer, and I don’t think we can do it without pushing ourselves, weak or strong. - The guy above is right. I bet some people secretly resent Su-Hyeok for this trial, but cut that crap out. He took the hardest route possible. - Anyone who thinks like that is an idiot. From what I’ve heard, the trial was well-balanced for the matching rank. - Agreed. It felt like the tower tailored the difficulty to push each rank to its absolute limit. - Yeah, those who survived should be satisfied. Everyone got way stronger. You could literally see it happening in real time. Exhaling softly, I closed the Community. It was time to move on to the rest area. [Welcome to the sixtieth floor of the Tower of Ordeal: Unified Safe Zone.] [All aggressive actions are strictly prohibited within the rest area. Please rest and relax at your leisure. Time remaining: 71 hours 59 minutes.] Thankfully, Ha Hee-Jeong could invite me to the party this time, so I wouldn’t have to wander aimlessly like before. As climbers appeared one after another across the sprawling plain, Ha Hee-Jeong pulled a small device from her pocket. “A signal device. Alexei has the matching one.” I looked at Ha Hee-Jeong incredulously. “What?” Ha Hee-Jeong and Alexei had never been particularly close. As far as I knew, they exchanged words only when absolutely necessary. I shot her a questioning look, but she ignored me, flicking the device open and pressing a button. Turning to Seo Ho-Su, I mouthed, “What happened between them?” He turned his head subtly in my direction before giving a small nod, his expression unreadable. Something was up, but before I could press for answers— “Ah. There they are.” Ha Hee-Jeong waved toward Alexei’s approaching party. Each one of their expressions was grim. Their group seemed so much smaller without the two party members, and Alexei’s eyes were brimming with tears. As soon as she spotted me, she closed the distance in mere seconds before throwing her arms around me. A faint, soapy scent filled my senses. She trembled as she released the sobs that had built up within her. I could have pushed her away, but I didn’t. Instead, I lifted my rigid arms and gently patted the back of the third-ranked climber as she wept.