The flushed climber’s declaration surprised me, considering that four climbers ranked higher than him were standing right there. He stepped forward, gripping his sword so tightly that his knuckles turned white. The veins protruding along the back of his hand seemed to pulse from the intensity of his fury, starkly contrasting the rigid composure of his stance. As we locked eyes, I noticed a dark-red hue at the corner of one of his eyes, likely from burst capillaries. Losing one’s party is never easy. That was the most probable reason. For most warriors who had reached this floor, grief wouldn't manifest solely as sorrow. While there would be some mourning, the urge to fight, destroy, and tear something apart would be overwhelming. It didn’t particularly matter to me how he chose to vent his emotions. Thankfully, Hendrick took the time to filter out anyone with serious personality issues. That simplified things. I only had to evaluate their combat ability. Even if this guy couldn’t keep his emotions in check, all I needed to do was pick the strongest candidate. That was what Alexei wanted, after all. There was no need to concern myself with their level of patience or temperament. Frankly, I had no interest in judging those aspects in the first place. I understood him. If my party members died, I would probably look even worse than he did. Okay, time to start the test. “Yes, Alinder Petro. You remembered. It's an honor.” “No need for that. I’ve heard about your situation. I’m sorry about what happened.” Alinder nodded stiffly before drawing his sword and bringing his left foot forward. The air shifted in an instant. The drunken, rage-fueled man from a moment ago vanished, replaced by something entirely different. A beast, honed and sharpened, now stood before me. His aura felt raw, unrefined even, yet dangerously effective. I had never felt this kind of energy from any other climber. Even Alexei doesn’t give off a presence . For someone ranked the lowest among the five warriors, exuding this kind of aura was remarkable. Generally, the higher the rank, the stronger the climber. However, that was not the case all the time. This reminded me that rank, at the end of the day, was just based on the accumulated achievement points. I reached down and lifted Soulbound from where I had planted it in the ground. “Come.” From the moment I had agreed to Alexei’s request, I had decided that I wouldn’t attack first. With how powerful I had become, most climbers wouldn't even be able to block a single one of my strikes. Even if I only defended, I could still fully assess their skills. If any of them actually managed to land a meaningful hit on me, they would be accepted into the party immediately. Alinder advanced, keeping his sword positioned low on his right side. There are three likely attack routes from this position. Either he could go for a speedy thrust, slash diagonally upward, or make a feint and then strike at an unexpected angle. I also considered that he could use a skill I wasn’t familiar with. He didn’t stray from my expectations, and his first move was a lightning-fast thrust. I analyzed his strike, noting that it pierced the air efficiently in a precise trajectory, with no hesitation. He didn’t attempt to read my reaction or adjust midway. It was just a pure, honest strike, unlike the wild and predatory aura he had exuded moments ago. I deflected the strike with my axe, but Alinder didn’t falter. He charged in and shouldered his way toward me, determined to land a decisive blow, even if it meant sustaining an injury. Naturally, I had no intention of letting that happen. Stepping back just a fraction, I twisted to avoid his sword. At the same time, I spun my wrist and slammed the flat side of my axe into his ribs. If I had used the edge of my blade, his stomach would’ve been cleaved wide open. Alinder let out a suppressed grunt but didn’t stop. Instead, he took the impact and reached for me. A surge of powerful mana erupted from his palm. Sensing the incoming attack, I quickly pivoted the haft of my axe downward, striking his wrist with it. The unleashed energy veered off to the side, slamming into the ground and leaving a crater. That is quite the destructive force. I flicked my wrist again, bringing the axe up to rest just beneath his throat. To be honest, calling this a fight felt excessive, considering how quickly and easily I had defeated him. There was no helping it, however, since he was facing me. Though the numerical gap between our ranks didn’t seem that significant, in terms of raw power, the disparity was insurmountable. “You were already done before that last attack.” “That’s true. But if you had committed to the attack, I would’ve been able to hit you with that burst.” He made a fair point. If I had actually buried the blade into his shoulder, his blast of mana would have been far more likely to land. I glanced at the ground where his attack had struck. It had unleashed a considerable amount of destruction, but that wasn’t the reason I was examining it. In terms of sheer power, a mage’s spells were far more devastating. No, what stood out to me was his mindset. I liked his attitude in that way. I don’t know if he has always fought , or if it is just his grief fueling him right now. Regardless, his willingness to trade his safety for the sake of landing a critical hit impressed me. That attitude alone made him the most promising of the group. His clean, precise swordplay surprised me, as well. Most climbers had no formal training and didn’t have access to the combat training room. The only way they could learn was through combat, facing the monsters that appeared on the floors or sparring with other climbers. As a result, most climbers developed unorthodox, pragmatic fighting styles. Alinder was different, though. Just from that single thrust, I could tell. Whether it was a natural gift or something he had realized through his trials, his technique didn’t feel sloppy. It was refined, without any unnecessary movements. True, straightforward swordsmanship. Deception and unpredictability could only shine once the fundamentals were perfected. Though his skills seemed simple now, his room to grow was undeniable. I glanced around at the other four warriors. Their expressions said it all. Each of their faces held a mixture of expectation and resignation—they had anticipated this outcome. I lowered my axe and leaned closer to Alinder. “Is this always how you fight?” “Do you usually disregard your own safety to land an attack?” “It depends on the situation, but usually, yes. Especially if my sacrifice ensures my enemy’s defeat.” I nodded in understanding. “Good work. Wait here for a moment.” He hesitated for a second before adding, “Regardless of whether you choose me or not, it was an honor to cross blades with you. I learned a lot.” Alinder gave a small, polite bow before stepping back. I watched his retreating figure until a familiar voice remarked, “He is... quite something...” Ryun had noticed something about him, as well. To my surprise, Ryun said the same thing the first time he met Alexei. I had sensed it myself, but if Ryun, who had lived far longer than I, felt the same way, then it was certain. Even though we were masters, Ryun’s experience far outweighed my own. “Compared... to the axe-wielding girl... his potential... seems even greater...” “Yeah... of course... nowhere near... your level... but still...” More talented than Alexei? Earlier, Ha Hee-Jeong and I had chatted about the candidates, and she hadn’t even remembered Alinder. She had mentioned the name felt vaguely familiar, but she was certain they had never met in her previous life. It wasn’t surprising. With an original pool of a million climbers, recalling every single name would have been an extraordinary feat. Moreover, most had died before the fiftieth floor, meaning she wouldn’t have even had a chance to interact with them. Alinder could have easily perished early in Ha Hee-Jeong’s previous life. Is this a result of the butterfly effect we set in motion? There was no way to be sure. Regardless, Alinder undeniably possessed the potential to become a swordmaster. The problem was, I wasn’t the right person to guide him. My expertise lay with the axe, not the sword. “Ryun, since you're a swordsman, do you want to train him while we are in the rest area? We don’t have much time, though." “Not a... bad idea. Even two days... could... be enough to... refine his skills... a little more..." “Then let’s call him over first thing tomorrow morning." Having stronger climbers around would be advantageous for me, and if they were part of Alexei’s party? All the better. I turned my gaze toward the other climbers. In truth, I had already made my decision, even before Ryun chimed in. Entirely skipping over the rest of them wasn’t an option, however. Now, how should I handle this? Calling for another volunteer would be pointless. Now that the lowest-ranked climber had already stepped up, the rest wouldn’t hesitate any longer. Sure enough, the four climbers moved simultaneously, only to flinch, each trying to position themselves ahead of the others. They were likely aiming to secure an advantage by joining in after the weakest competitor had been assessed. I raised my axe toward them. “All of you, come at me at once.” The four had sparred with me before. If any of them truly surpassed Alinder, they would be able to prove themselves, even in a four-on-one battle. I nodded, and their expressions wavered. They were clearly puzzled, wondering why Alinder had fought one-on-one against me while they were expected to face me as a group. The more perceptive ones should have caught on. Or perhaps, having faced Alinder in combat, they had concluded he wasn’t particularly remarkable and assumed I was simply dismissing them as well. Regardless, my words had ended up provoking them, even if I hadn’t intended that. At least one thing worked in my favor. They were aware of the gap between us. No one made any absurd claims, like arguing that I couldn’t handle the four of them. Silently, they closed in. I planned to end this swiftly. In the end, their efforts proved to be lackluster, much like I had expected. Half of them charged headlong like Alinder, albeit more recklessly. The other half approached cautiously, obviously prioritizing their own safety. However, none of them wielded their weapons with the same poise that Alinder had. Their movements were practical, yet lacked clear intent. To make the difference in our skill levels unmistakable, I didn’t hold back. Not a single one lasted beyond a single exchange. [3 minutes 21 seconds until the rest period ends. Please take a rest.] - Alexei Braham (Sixty-first Floor): Hey! You need to take responsibility. - Kwon Su-Hyeok (Sixty-first Floor): Responsibility for what? You’re making it sound serious. - Alexei Braham (Sixty-first Floor): Come on, don’t leave Alinder . He’s basically your devoted follower now. - Kwon Su-Hyeok (Sixty-first Floor): Huh? Since when? He didn’t seem that way when we met at the rest area. - Alexei Braham (Sixty-first Floor): No idea. He said inspiration struck thanks to you or something. He’s a full-fledged disciple of the Su-Hyeok Shadow Fan Club now. - Kwon Su-Hyeok (Sixty-first Floor): But Ryun was the one who trained him. Why is he fanboying me? - Alexei Braham (Sixty-first Floor): How should I know? Anyway, that’s not why I messaged you. Just wanted to say thanks. I think you picked a solid teammate. I know I’ve already said this a few times, but seriously, thanks. - Kwon Su-Hyeok (Sixty-first Floor): Come on, we’re friends. We help each other out. We’re almost on the sixty-first floor now. Do your best, and see you later. - Alexei Braham (Sixty-first Floor): Yeah! Good luck to you, too! As I double-checked my gear, my mind absentmindedly returned to the rest area. Like always, nothing particularly unusual had occurred. Everyone had rested, strengthened friendships, deepened relationships, or finished incomplete conversations. Of course, I had spent my time training. Calling it training wouldn’t be entirely accurate, though. Although I had sparred with Alexei, Seo Ho-Su, and Alinder, I didn’t gain much from it anymore. At this point, they were receiving my coaching more than anything else. Thankfully, it did work toward my refinement of Soulbound, though not by much. Honestly, by the end of the day, it started to feel tedious. In the end, it boiled down to one simple reason: more trials still awaited us, and this rest area was but a reprieve. At first, the rest areas had seemed like a blessing. But now? My perspective had shifted. They were beginning to feel unnecessary. For the other climbers, it was even worse. Though they didn’t openly express it, I could see the fear in the faces of the mid-to-lower-ranked climbers. The fiftieth floor and beyond had taken a heavy toll, eliminating climbers en masse. The low-ranked climbers had all but given up, indulging in reckless enjoyment as if there were no tomorrow. Even though I had effectively erased half of the floors before the next rest area, this trend hadn’t changed. The individual challenge floors had just been overwhelming for the average climber. Part of me wanted to tell them to train instead of wasting time. Still, I didn’t. That was their decision to make. In truth, lecturing climbers who had already resigned themselves to their fate wouldn’t accomplish anything. Those who sought to improve themselves were already preparing for what lay ahead. Besides, I had no desire to interfere with those seeking one last moment of enjoyment before their inevitable deaths. They would do as they pleased. I had no intention of carrying those who lacked the will or the capability to keep up. Pushing aside my thoughts, I focused on the task at hand. It was time to step onto the sixty-first floor. [Welcome to the sixty-first floor of the Tower of Ordeal: The Ice Castle’s Princess.] [Rescue the princess imprisoned at the top of the Ice Castle. Time remaining: 17 hours 59 minutes.] As my vision cleared, a chamber entirely sculpted from ice appeared before me. It looked like something straight out of an animated film. At the center of the room, a young girl gazed up at me with wide eyes. She appeared to be around fourteen. Her expression lit up the moment she saw me. “Oh! You’re the oppa Mom told me about!”