"I’m done just looking around. Let’s get this party started," Rean echoed.

’Man not main × multi main.’

’This is the best option I have to cover range and maximize kills while keeping mana usage to a minimum.’

’I’ll clear floor by floor—and only when needed will I stack up with an even stronger skill.’

The second floor didn’t change.

It still roared with chaos—steel clashing, monsters howling, hunters shouting over one another as fractured lines struggled to hold.

But something else entered it.

Quietly.

Unseen.

A hunter braced as a hulking stonehide brute lunged at him—its body plated in jagged rock, fists raised to crush—

The head came off.

Clean.

No blade. No flash. Just a sudden line across its neck—and the massive body collapsed mid-step, momentum carrying it forward without life.

The hunter froze.

"...What?"

Behind him, a cluster of frost-limbed crawlers skittered along the walls, limbs sharp and twitching as they closed in on a wounded group—

They were cut apart.

Pieces fell in staggered beats, as if something invisible moved through them faster than the eye could follow. Limbs dropped. Bodies split. The sound came after.

"Did you see that?!"

"No—what—what just—?!"

It spread.

Not from one direction.

From everywhere.

A blade no one could see carved through a pack of wolves, each one falling before it even finished its lunge. A towering horned beast raised its arm to strike—only for that arm to separate at the shoulder, spinning uselessly through the air before the rest of it followed.

Hunters began to notice.

Then react.

"Something’s here—!"

"Is that... us?! Is someone helping?!"

"What is that?"

A woman stumbled back as a serpent-like monster coiled toward her, jaws opening wide—

It split down the center.

Her breath hitched as she stared at the halves sliding apart, eyes darting wildly.

"...Is this—"

Another hunter laughed.

"Impossible!"

Sharp. Disbelieving.

"I don’t care what it is—keep moving!"

Because it wasn’t stopping.

Everywhere they turned—monsters were falling.

Not slowed.

Not wounded.

Erased.

And then—

They saw it.

Or something like it.

A flicker.

A distortion in the air.

Then another.

And another.

Multiple.

"...There’s more than one," someone whispered.

Invisible figures moved through the battlefield, their presence only betrayed by the results they left behind. A heavy beast charged—cut down before it took three steps. A cluster of clawed creatures leapt—sliced apart mid-air, bodies scattering across the floor.

It wasn’t random.

It was thoughtful.

Targeted.

Each invisible Rean moved with purpose, targeting pressure points in the battlefield—where lines were breaking, where hunters were about to fall, where monsters were about to overwhelm.

And each time—

They arrived first.

A man dropped to one knee, breath ragged as a towering creature loomed over him—

Then it died.

He looked up slowly, eyes wide, searching for something—anything.

"...Thank you," he said anyway.

Others didn’t speak.

They just fought harder.

Because now—

They could.

The pressure lifted.

Not completely—but enough.

Enough to breathe. Enough to strike back. Enough to believe that the tide wasn’t fixed against them anymore.

"Push forward!" someone shouted.

And this time—

People listened.

The monsters thinned rapidly, their numbers collapsing under the relentless, unseen assault. Every attempt to regroup was cut apart. Every surge was dismantled before it could form.

Within minutes—

It was over.

The last creature fell without ceremony, its body dropping to the bloodstained floor as the echoes of battle faded into something quieter.

Heavier.

No one moved for a second.

They just stood there, breathing, looking around at a battlefield that had been on the edge of collapse—

Now cleared.

"...We’re alive," someone said, like they needed to hear it out loud.

Another laughed, breathless, almost hysterical.

"Yeah... yeah, we are."

Another confirmed it, disbelief still in his voice.

A few glanced around again, searching for their unseen savior.

There was nothing.

No figure.

No presence.

Just silence.

Then—

"Up," a hunter said, gripping his weapon tighter. "We’re not stopping here."

Heads turned.

Determination replaced fear.

"They cleared this floor for us," another added. "We move."

And just like that—

They did.

The survivors gathered themselves, formation tighter now, steps more certain as they turned toward the stairs leading upward.

Morale had shifted.

Not fragile.

Not breaking.

Rising.

The third floor didn’t greet him with hesitation.

It was already breaking.

The moment Rean stepped in—unseen, unfelt—the chaos swallowed him whole. Hunters were scattered across the floor, some holding fractured lines, others already collapsing under the pressure. Monsters moved in dense clusters here—heavier, faster, more aggressive than the floor below.

Good.

He didn’t slow down.

The first fell before it even registered him—a towering, ice-armored brute split clean across the torso, its body sliding apart as Rean passed through it. A pack of long-limbed predators leapt from the side—

They dropped in pieces.

Invisible cuts carved through them mid-air, limbs scattering across the frozen ground before they even landed.

Rean moved without pause.

One step—

Three kills.

Another—

Five.

Multiple presences again. Multiple paths. Every version of him cutting through a different section of the battlefield, collapsing pressure points before they could form.

A cluster of hunters braced for impact as a massive, tusked creature charged—

It stopped.

Then folded.

Their eyes widened.

"...Again?" one whispered.

"Don’t question it!" another snapped. "Just move!"

Because it was happening everywhere.

A swarm pushing from the rear—gone.

A flanking group—cut down.

Anything that threatened to overwhelm was erased before it could take hold.

The hunters felt it.

"The association must have sent a high-ranking assassin type. Definitely S-rank," one said.

"But there’s only one high-ranking assassin type we know of," another responded.

"It has to be..."

That invisible hand guiding the battlefield, stabilizing it piece by piece. Panic turned into coordination. Desperation into momentum.

They began to fight with it.

Not knowing what "it" was—but trusting it anyway.

Rean maintained the flow.

Precise.

Relentless.

But—

Slower.

Just slightly.

The difference was small. Almost invisible.

But he felt it.

His movements were still clean. His strikes still lethal. But the constant output—the splitting, the coverage, the layered presence—it was taking its toll.

’Stamina... dipping.’

Still manageable.

But not for long.

A heavier wave surged from deeper within the floor—larger monsters, denser bodies, pushing harder than anything before. The hunters braced again, lines tightening, but this time—

The pressure didn’t collapse instantly.

Rean cut through the front line.

Then the second.

Then the third—

But there were more behind them.

"...Yeah," he muttered quietly.

’This won’t end clean if I drag it.’

He stopped.

For the first time since entering the floor—

He stood still.

Invisible.

Unseen in the middle of chaos.

And gathered.

Mana didn’t flare outward.

It compressed.

Drew inward, tighter and tighter, condensing around him in a dense, silent build. The air shifted subtly, pressure bending toward his position as everything he had left funneled into a single point.

The battlefield didn’t notice.

Not yet.

Rean exhaled slowly.

"...Mana Pulse."

Then—

He released it.

A massive pulse erupted outward from his position—not as an explosion, but as a crushing wave of force that expanded in all directions. It tore through the battlefield instantly, a sweeping surge of raw mana that didn’t cut—

It overwhelmed.

Monsters caught in its path didn’t resist.

They were crushed.

Bodies buckled, shattered, erased under the sheer density of the pulse as it spread across the entire floor in a single, unstoppable sweep.

The sound hit a second later.

A deep, rolling impact that echoed through the structure as the wave finished its path and dissipated.

Then—

Silence.

Complete.

Rean stood at the center of it, invisible still, chest rising slightly heavier now.

The floor was clear.

No movement.

No threats.

Just hunters left standing, frozen in place, trying to process what had just happened.

"...What... was that?" someone whispered.

No answer came.

Because Rean was already moving again.

Upward.

The next floor awaited.

And he didn’t have much left to waste.

As they charged toward the next floor—

They didn’t feel like prey anymore.

’I guess I boosted morale a bit... well, good for them.’

Rean pulled up his stats. His mana was still relatively full.

’Good. That’s just good.’

’I may have used way too much mana just now, but I was left with no choice. I can’t proceed if my stamina’s all burnt out.’

’I wonder how many floors remain.’

A panel popped up.

This is floor 3. Entering floor 4. 97 floors remain.

"Wow..."

’That’s definitely not a lot,’ Rean thought sarcastically.

**********

"Sir ,we just got report that the hunters have been advancing much faster. They’ve cleared two floors In half the time it previously took to clear just one."

The chairman of the association was elated.

"It’s probably thanks to the S ranks who’ve arrived on the scene. I knew it was a good choice sending them ahead to handle things.

We can’t have this tower incident be anything like the Ruins of Zaheer.

If things proceed in this mana and hopefully they do, we’d be done with this and back to regular programming."

The chairman tugged at his chest. The association was barely involved in most of the action these days. They were only active when it came to national emergency as just one guild would usually not suffice. They were needed to coordinate and coordinate they did.

"All that’s left---"

He paused

"Let’s believe in our forces."