"Yes the association had infact mobilized S ranks from various guilds, but this was different."

"The results being reported weren’t those of some S rank veteran. No these were Rean’s doing."

"The world just doesn’t know it yet."

Back at the tower.

"The mana pulse I expended was totally unaccounted for."

"If there’s still that many floors, I’ll have to re-strategize or something."

Heavy footsteps were heard.

The pattern and rhythm was so organized.

"Is that reinforcement?" one of the hunters shouted.

The room already filled with an insane amount of diminishing aura came alive.

"It seems you guys have fought well," Commander Ross stated.

The hunters felt seen and appreciated.

Ross was instrumental in clearing the previous tower, it makes sense the association would have him lead the charge.

"Is that Commander Ross?" one shouted.

"Wasn’t he one of two who’ve faced a tower and come out alive?" another followed.

"You guys can fall back. Go get your mana replenished by healers, leave the towers so your systems can run your upgrades and then scale and join us."

"We await you."

This little words charged the hunter’s forces.

They scaled downwards, going to the lower floors and from there exiting the tower to do as instructed.

"Let’s move," he said.

A snark followed. "Oh come on. We’re all S ranks here, don’t try to baby anyone." He ran pass Ross.

This S rank was Loki Winfrey from the monster’s guild. He previously ranked eighth in the previous ceremony.

His status - S rank.

Operating point - A rank

(Due to the effects of the tower.)

Talent - Space manipulation.

He ran up, he was the first to make the new floor.

"I’m excited to see what these S ranks have in them," Rean said.

He got up, now on the floor that the S rank had just arrived at. He was met with a rather unique sight. Monsters killing monsters.

"Savour this, noobie, this is my spacial technique. World of Malice," he said in the most dramatic of tones.

A technique that turns every within a space on everything within a space. Its effect only lasts on those casted.

He casted it prior to the other hunters reaching the floor so all is fine.

The next floors didn’t descend into chaos.

They fractured into control.

Rean felt it before he fully saw it—the shift in intent, the unnatural pauses between movements, the way aggression didn’t always point outward anymore.

Then he saw it.

A pack of bladed crawlers rushed a lone hunter, limbs slicing the air as they closed in—

They stopped.

Mid-charge.

Their bodies jerked, not like hesitation—but like something pulling at their strings. One turned. Then another.

And without warning—

They attacked each other.

Claws tore through chitin. Limbs ripped apart limbs. The pack collapsed inward in a frenzy of self-destruction, screeches cutting short one by one until nothing remained but twitching remains.

The hunter stood there, breathing hard.

Hand raised.

Fingers curled slightly.

"...Move," he said hoarsely to the others behind him. "I’ve got them."

Manipulator.

Rean’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"So that’s how this floor was being held."

Further ahead, it got worse.

A towering ice brute raised its arm to crush a group—

It froze.

Its entire body locked, muscles straining against something unseen. Then, slowly—unnaturally—it turned its own arm inward.

And drove its fist into its chest.

Once.

Twice.

A third time—

Until the structure gave and it collapsed, lifeless.

Hunters stared.

"...That’s messed up," someone muttered.

Another didn’t respond.

Because it wasn’t isolated.

Across the floor, monsters faltered, staggered, turned on themselves. Some fought it—bodies shaking violently as they tried to resist whatever grip had taken hold.

Some didn’t.

A wolf-like creature sprinted forward—

Then abruptly shifted direction and leapt off the edge of a fractured platform, vanishing into the darkness below without a sound.

Silence followed.

Then—

A voice, strained but controlled.

"Keep pushing!"

The hunter stood at the center of it all, eyes locked forward, veins faintly visible along his neck as mana pulsed unevenly around him. His control wasn’t clean. It wasn’t effortless.

But it was effective.

Rean watched for a moment.

Then moved on.

Because above—

Something else was happening.

The pressure shifted again.

Not chaotic.

Not desperate.

Dominant.

An S-rank passed him on the stairs without even slowing down.

No words. No acknowledgment.

Just presence.

Heavy.

Contained.

Then—

Impact.

A floor above them shook violently, a single, concentrated burst of force rippling downward through the structure. The noise wasn’t prolonged fighting—

It was an ending.

Fast.

Decisive.

Rean stepped onto the next level just in time to see the aftermath.

A field of monsters—

Gone.

Not scattered. Not wounded.

Gone.

A single figure stood at the center, weapon lowered slightly, the air still vibrating faintly from the force of whatever had just happened.

"...Next," the S-rank said simply.

And moved on.

No hesitation.

No need to regroup.

Further up, it repeated.

Another S-rank.

Another floor.

Taken.

Individually.

Each one carving through an entire level alone, their presence turning what should have been drawn-out battles into brief, overwhelming conclusions.

Rean watched it unfold as he climbed.

Below, hunters struggled, fought, survived—some aided by strange, brutal manipulation that turned monsters against themselves.

Above, S-ranks erased entire layers of resistance with single pushes.

The tower was being split.

Controlled from both ends.

And in between—

Everything was being crushed.

These S ranks were just taking floors and levels individually, more efficiently than Rean himself did.

They were about twelve in number.

No coordination among them. They just went.

There was a respect among them, like they could just tell if someone was handling a floor, you should keep it and head on up.

"I can’t keep up. Even if I go invisible, these guys will just clear the monsters before I can just about do anything."

Rean was stunned. "I’ll have to go even faster and climb ahead of what they’re capable of."

Rean made it from floor to floor. All he met was different kill styles, monsters put down in methods he’d never even heard of.

Some floors had no fight in them, just aftermath, if the monsters were lucky, else it’s just plain nothing.

"Woah, it looks like everything in this floor got flat out erased."

"I’ll have to speed up. I’m already 40 floors in and these S ranks have got way too much of a handle on things."

"I’ll take a risky jump and just go up straight to floor 80. I’ll avoid monsters, hit and run. No, just run. No interaction till I make the 80th floor."

From the 40th floor, Rean stopped holding back.

He moved.

Not like a hunter climbing a tower—but like something cutting straight through it. His presence blurred, steps compressing distance until floors stopped feeling separate. Corridors stretched and snapped behind him as he passed, the world reduced to flashes of motion and shifting pressure.

The 40s were still ice.

Heavy frost clung to every surface, the cold biting but familiar. Monsters here were thick-bodied, slow to react—but they died before they could even turn. Rean didn’t slow, didn’t engage. Anything in his path was brushed aside—cut, crushed, or bypassed entirely.

Then the shift came.

Around the 50th floor.

The cold thinned.

Not gone—but unstable. Ice melted into slick water that refroze unevenly across the ground. Steam began to rise in patches, the air fluctuating between biting chill and sudden warmth. Creatures here were different—leaner, more reactive, bodies adapted to the unstable terrain.

Rean passed through fights already in progress.

Hunters clashed with serpentine beasts that moved through both water and ice, their forms phasing between states. A group held formation against a towering creature that radiated heat, its presence cracking the frozen floor beneath it.

Rean didn’t interfere.

He saw.

Measured.

And kept moving.

The 60s twisted further.

The environment stopped deciding what it wanted to be.

One corridor burned—dry heat, cracked stone, air thick and suffocating.

The next froze instantly—frost forming mid-step, breath crystallizing in front of his face.

Then both at once.

A battlefield where fire and ice coexisted, clashing violently, turning the ground into something unstable and dangerous. Hunters fought here in harsher conditions, their movements heavier, more deliberate. Mistakes cost more.

Rean moved through it all.

Untouched.

A clash caught his eye—

An S-rank.

Alone.

A massive creature collapsed under a single overwhelming strike, its body breaking apart under sheer force. The hunter didn’t pause—just moved on, already climbing higher.

Rean’s gaze lingered for half a second.

Then he accelerated again.

The 70th floor.

That was where things changed.

Not just the environment—

The people.

More hunters were here.

Alive.

Fighting.

Holding.

Groups had formed, tighter, more disciplined than the lower floors. These weren’t survivors scraping by—they were hunters who had pushed through, who had earned their place this high up the tower.

Battles here were different.

Cleaner.

Deadlier.

A team moved in perfect sync against a winged predator, their coordination sharp, strikes landing with purpose. Another group rotated seamlessly, covering each other as they advanced through a pack of armored beasts.

They saw Rean—

Or rather, they felt something pass.

A blur.

A pressure.

"...Did something just—?"

"No time—focus!"

They went back to fighting.

Rean slowed.

Just slightly.

His eyes scanned the floor, taking it in—the strength, the structure, the fact that this level wasn’t collapsing like the others.

Good.

That meant what was above was worse.

He stepped forward.

Toward the next ascent.

And then—

Something blocked his path.

Not suddenly.

Not explosively.

It was just... there.

Standing in the corridor leading upward.

A monster.

Larger than anything he’d passed so far—not just in size, but in presence. Its body was layered in dense, shifting elements, parts of it freezing while others burned, the air around it warping from the conflicting forces.

But what stood out—

It didn’t move.

It didn’t attack.

It simply stood there.

Waiting.

Rean stopped. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

For the first time since the 40th floor—

He was forced to.

The monster’s gaze locked onto him, unflinching, unmoving.

And then—

It took a single step forward.

The ground cracked under its weight.

A low, distorted sound escaped it—not quite a roar, not quite a warning.

A refusal.

Clear.

Direct.

You don’t pass.

Rean’s eyes narrowed slightly, his breathing steady despite the shift.

"...So that’s how it is."

His stance adjusted.

Not rushed.

Not reckless.

But ready.

Because this one—

Wasn’t going to be bypassed.

"New plan, I’ll just start off from this point on."

"Multimain."

He activated, producing 5 clones of himself.

"Why settle for just this when I can have clones continue on, huh."

His clones lunged on to continue moving.

"They’ll strike as many monsters as possible and then they’ll get to even higher floors."

Rean didn’t reach for his blade.

He reached inward.

Five presences split from him—clean, immediate. No flare, no spectacle. Just five identical Reans stepping out of the same space, their outlines stabilizing as if they had always been there.

The monster reacted.

Not with confusion—

With pressure.

Its body shifted, elements grinding against each other as heat and frost surged unevenly across its frame. The corridor tightened under its presence, air distorting, the path upward still sealed behind it.

Rean didn’t look at it.

He looked at his clones.

"Go."

They moved.

All five.

Not around—

Through.

The first darted left, testing the edge of the corridor, blade flashing as it aimed for an opening between the creature’s layered defenses. The strike landed—

And stopped.

Not clean resistance.

Shifted resistance.

The surface froze instantly at the point of contact, hardening unnaturally before bursting into heat that forced the blade back. The clone twisted away, narrowly avoiding the follow-up as a burning limb swept through where it had been.

The second came in low.

Faster.

Its blade carved upward in a tight arc, targeting the creature’s leg joint—

This time the surface burned first.

The heat flared violently, disrupting the edge before it could fully bite. The slash dragged instead of cutting clean, sparks and frost exploding outward as the clone forced through just enough to create imbalance.

The monster adjusted immediately.

Too quickly.

A counter came down—

The third clone intercepted.

Steel met limb, mana reinforcing the block just enough to deflect instead of break. The impact still drove it back, boots carving lines into the ground before it slipped past, creating a narrow lane—

"Now."

The fourth and fifth moved together.

Perfect timing.

One high. One low.

Two slashes crossed at opposing angles, forcing the creature to react to both. It shifted again—freezing one side, burning the other—

But not fast enough.

Not for both.

The lower strike connected.

Shallow.

But real.

The creature staggered half a step.

That was all they needed.

The clones didn’t press.

Didn’t linger.

They slipped through the space created, bodies blurring as they passed beyond the monster’s immediate reach and into the corridor behind it.

It turned.

Too late.

One of them took a hit on the way through—a glancing blow that tore across its side, destabilizing its form for a moment—but it didn’t stop. It couldn’t afford to.

All five pushed forward.

Past.

Up.

The pressure behind them surged as the monster roared, the sound echoing down the corridor as it realized what had happened.

But it didn’t follow.

It couldn’t.

Because the original Rean—

Was still there.

Standing exactly where he had been.

Waiting.

The clones disappeared into the upper floors, their presence fading into the distance as they continued the climb, carrying his intent forward.

Clearing the path ahead.

Leaving behind—

The real fight.

Rean rolled his shoulder once, eyes settling fully onto the monster now.

No more splitting focus.

No more bypassing.

"...Alright."

His blade came up.

The air tightened.

"Just you and me."

"No audience. I guess I can pull out all manner of tricks from the bag."

"I’m getting way too excited, it’s like back then all over again."