Conquering the Tower Even Regressors Couldn't-Chapter 453: Ninety-Fifth Floor, Waiting Room (2)

Endless darkness greeted me.

It was suffocating to the point I couldn’t see even a single step ahead of myself. Moving forward on instinct alone, I trod cautiously, one step at a time. Something unseen wound tightly around me. It felt like invisible coils were constricting me, and my breathing grew shallow and uneven.

I couldn’t tell how long I wandered before a crimson gleam tore through the void unannounced. I instantly recognized it as some living creature’s eye.

The luminous red pupils resembled those of a dragon, and the instant I met their gaze, a lingering sense of familiarity struck me. However, in that same moment, I froze stiff. Those burning eyes surged toward me as if to swallow me whole, closing the distance in an instant. A diagonal slash blazed right before my face.

...!

When my eyes flew open, I was staring at the ceiling of the waiting room. For several heartbeats, I was left speechless. It had been a nightmare. Well, to be more precise, it felt like I had suffered from a sleep paralysis demon.

Due to my stress, I had forgotten to even breathe. Still lying on my back, I started breathing in raggedly as my chest heaved. Cold sweat slid down my cheeks and across my back, which was still pressed against the bed.

What was that?

Nightmares and cold sweat were both rare occurrences for me. After reaching a certain level of strength, they had stopped altogether. My supernatural physique hardly got sweaty, and as my spirit strengthened, such nightmares never took place.

No, thinking about it carefully, this wasn’t simply rare. I hadn’t experienced anything similar in recent times.

From the first floor up to perhaps the fortieth, I did occasionally dream and have such nightmares.

Back then, the faces of those I had slain often surfaced in my sleep. As my resolve solidified, they stopped appearing entirely.

“Ugh.”

I pressed the back of my head deeply into the pillow and exhaled heavily, staring blankly at the white ceiling. Apparently, though I had concealed it outwardly, I bore far more strain than I realized.

The certainty of facing a formidable enemy on the ninety-fifth floor had heightened my nerves, and perhaps my solitude was taking its toll on me. It wasn’t just that, however.

It isn’t something tangible.

It didn’t press palpably against my skin, nor could I consciously perceive the sensation. Even so, I felt myself growing weary faster than usual, as if the energy I required to simply exist had multiplied. The more floors I climbed, the sharper that sensation became.

Perhaps it was natural for a challenger. The trials themselves grew harsher, and even the rest granted within the waiting room felt slower and less restorative.

Hmm.

The longer I lay still, the stronger my unease grew. Even considering the increased psychological strain of a challenger’s trials, this felt weird.

Why would a nightmare strike right before the ninety-fifth floor of all times?

Of course, the stress and mental strain I had accumulated could explain it, but something about it felt weird, out of place.

No idea.

I forced myself to recall the dream. From the heart of that suffocating dark, a creature with crimson eyes had charged straight at me. Waking up from the dream had caused my memory of the rest of it to appear blurry, but that single detail remained vivid. If I wasn’t mistaken, those eyes had stirred an odd sense of familiarity, though I couldn’t be certain.

What was it? A prophetic dream?

That couldn’t be right. I had never experienced such a thing. Even after contemplating the matter, nothing new surfaced. The dream had been strange, yes, but in all likelihood, my stress had caused it.

Still, I resolved to remember it, just to be safe.

Lifting my head, I checked the remaining time.

[45 hours 23 minutes until the rest period ends. Please take a rest.]

Normally, I would wake up at a precise time, but perhaps because of the nightmare, I had overslept by nearly an hour.

I immediately stood up.

My next trial was imminent, and apparently, the next floor was weighing heavily enough on my subconscious to influence my dreams. Every second was precious. Lost time meant sacrificing rest to make space for training.

I crossed the room to pick up Soulbound, which was leaning against the wall. From it, I felt not the fervor of battle but a calm, subdued resonance.

Two days ago, it was really excited.

It had split the walls of the training room then, revealing a space-like void. It wasn’t the first time I had caused such a phenomenon. As before, the tower shifted me out of the training room, only to send me back moments later. My training continued as usual.

Of course, I prioritized control after that. Soulbound was also too excited, given that it had been our first strike after our union. After several trials and errors, it learned to temper its strength to the appropriate degree.

Naturally, Soulbound draws upon my own power.

In hindsight, it was an inevitable process. Once Soulbound had mastered restraint, I focused on refining my new insights, reviewing every martial technique I had learned thus far, and sharpening them further. My realizations from the ninety-fourth floor lingered with striking clarity and prompted the training.

During the two-day span, I also found time to visit Natalie’s world. I asked her about my divine title, but the answer I sought eluded me.

She had given me a baffling answer.

“If I tell you, the tower won’t like it.”

It wasn’t that she couldn't tell me, but rather that the tower would disapprove. No matter how much I pressed her, Natalie remained persistent. In the end, I yielded since learning it wouldn’t be that meaningful.

I turned back to the training room. Tedious though it was, it was the best way I could prepare at this point.

***

With only two minutes left on the countdown, I stepped into the ninety-fifth floor.

[Welcome to the ninety-fifth floor of the Tower of Ordeal.]

The message popped up during the summoning process, as it occasionally had. Despite that, the message felt wrong. Usually, the name of the floor accompanied the greeting, allowing me to anticipate, or at least guess at, the contents of the next floor.

As my doubt grew, another message appeared.

[Before entering the ninety-fifth floor, you will be transferred to the ‘Room of Abandonment.’]

The Room of Abandonment?

Before I could even contemplate what that meant, my vision shifted abruptly. In the same instant, I felt solid ground beneath my feet, and a white room unfolded before me. It resembled the weapon selection room from the first floor, but unlike then, this room was utterly barren.

[God exists alone.]

[In preparation for the coming trial, please discard all equipment currently in your possession.]

[Only one item may be excluded. Leave behind the single most precious piece of equipment from your climb.]

As the message faded, a small altar rose from the center of the white room, clearly meant as the place to set down the one item I would choose to keep. Just like I expected, the tower updated the notification.

[Place the item you wish to exclude upon the space that has just manifested.]

The tower didn’t send another message. Even then, the series of notifications left me momentarily stunned.

What the hell is this? I have to discard everything except one piece of equipment?

The command made little sense. Still, I had already settled on my choice.

Soulbound.

My gauntlet and armor were indeed valuable and cherished, but they couldn’t compare. I couldn’t face a trial without a weapon. Why the rest had to be abandoned, however, I didn’t understand.

Will I ever see everything else again?

As if reading my mind, the tower continued.

[Discarded equipment will not be returned. Please choose carefully.]

“Tch.”

My reaction wasn’t from admiration, but rather bitter resignation. It was somewhat, no, absurd beyond belief, enough to make me curse.

These were items I had gathered through hardship, enduring countless trials and painful moments. For the tower to command me to cast them away was incomprehensible. Perhaps it was tied to the earlier message.

[God exists alone.]

Unfortunately, that hardly gave me clarity.

If God exists alone, why do I have to discard the equipment? Also, if that is the case, doesn’t allowing one item break that rule? Does this mean that to ascend to godhood, I must relinquish all that I have gained within the tower? If so, why not strip me of my skills as well?

The thought left me irritated, and a string of questions rose in my mind. Of course, if the tower ended up taking Soulbound as well, my anger would only grow. It was only a fleeting notion.

An idea occurred to me.

Can I store everything in my mimic?

It could be a loophole, but one worth trying. I quickly lifted Soulbound and held it toward the mimic. However, it didn’t open.

[You are in possession of the mimic. As a living being, it will be returned to you after the trial ends.]

With that message, Mung-chi vanished from my belt.

I had thought myself clever, but the attempt ended in futility. It left me staring blankly into the air, a hollow disappointment sinking in.

Has the tower already accounted for such tricks?

Perhaps not. The tower knew I carried the mimic, after all. More likely, it had prepared measures to prevent misuse. Or perhaps the moment I entered the ninety-fifth floor, it had designated such a restriction.

After all, Mung-chi is filled with equipment.

I attempted to open a portal, then sighed and abandoned the effort. Two-Way Portal was sealed, and even when I called for Poong-Wol, he didn’t respond. The tower had accounted for every trick I had thought of.

Regardless, to demand I strip away everything, just what trial awaited on the ninety-fifth floor? Until now, I had assumed there would be fighting.

I have had two floors to rest, and the timing seems right.

Perhaps the nightmare from two nights ago was influencing me, but to be told to enter a trial without any equipment unsettled me. Of course, there was no way the tower would demand my equipment and send me to battle. Any other climber would likely keep their weapon as I planned to.

Even so, I tried to figure out what awaited me.

A floor without equipment... what can it be?

No matter how much I thought about it, nothing came to mind. The tower remained silent. One more thing occurred to me. The message had called this the Room of Abandonment. Memories of every time the tower had blindsided me came rushing back.

Can it be?

It wouldn’t have given me the name without a reason. Perhaps this was the trial, and I had to discard my equipment within a certain amount of time. Or perhaps how long I took would influence the ninety-fifth floor.

I couldn’t be certain of anything, but further speculation wouldn’t change anything.

No matter what, I am keeping Soulbound.

Without another moment of hesitation, I placed Soulbound upon the altar and began removing the rest of my gear.

With nowhere nice to place my other items, I threw them onto the ground. The Mana-Accumulating Gauntlet of the Underworld was the first to go, followed by the Footsteps of the Abyss. They clattered against the floor.

I removed the Ring of the Dawn Breeze and Seraphim’s Ring, then the necklace Master of the Five Carriage Wheels had given me. Though it allowed me to communicate with Ha Hee-Jeong, that was irrelevant here. I had already confirmed it didn’t work while I was completing the last ten floors.

Next came the two dragon scale token earrings, then my cloak and armor. Soon, the floor was strewn with equipment.

Hmm.

Seeing them scattered like that, I felt a twinge of regret. They had accompanied me all this way. I ought to have removed them more carefully, laying them down with respect. I dismissed the thought. If there was a time limit, I couldn’t afford to be sentimental. Besides, the tower had already declared it wouldn’t return the items when the trial ended.

Still, seeing them all gathered stirred something in me. I had worn and removed them countless times, but this felt final. Truly the last. Memories of the journey flickered through my mind until the moment passed. Strangely, the message didn’t change.

I frowned.

What now? Am I supposed to remove the climbing suit?

At the moment, I was barefoot, wearing only the climbing suit. By definition, though, that was equipment as well.

Does the tower really want me to proceed naked?

As I debated whether to strip, the message finally updated.

[You are leaving the Room of Abandonment. Welcome to the ninety-fifth floor of the Tower of Ordeal: Phantom of the Predecessor.]

The instant I read the notification window, my eyes widened.

The Phantom of the Predecessor.

It was a trial I knew, and one I could never forget.