William lounged in the shade of Luminara Tree, eating bread and vegetable stew. The vegetables were bizarre, one looked like a cactus but tasted sweet like carrot. Whatever they were, they hit the spot.
Beside him, Centaurs was already devouring his third fruit, something that looked like a green peach. On William's shoulder, Lumina perched, nibbling on a tiny fruit that resembled a plum but was actually a Moonberry. She'd barely managed to eat a quarter of it.
After finishing his meal, William let out a loud yawn. Everyone had been transported after midnight, and he was still running on pure adrenaline from this wild fantasy situation. Seven hours had passed since the protection period began, and he'd managed to get everything he needed. Now, it was finally time to rest before he started preparing for the Ascension Test.
Closing his eyes and leaning back against the tree, he muttered, "Rollie, wake me up in six hours."
[Sure, sweet dreams, my dear Will~]
William let out a quiet chuckle at Rollie's antics before drifting off into a world of dreams.
By now, in the Tower Expanse, every tower lord had checked their troops and talents. Even the most clueless ones had figured things out with the Tower System's help. Those with solid talent or troops were at ease, but the unlucky Lords with nothing special were panicking, begging others, fear gnawing at their hearts.
In the blink of an eye, another six hours slipped by. William woke up, wincing in pain and irritation etched across his face. "Couldn't you have woken me up normally? Did you really have to zap me? I nearly had a heart attack," he grumbled.
[You told me to wake you up. I don't have a body, so that was the only way.]
"Yeah, right. You could've at least gone easy on me. It felt like a damn thunderbolt hit me," William muttered, still uncomfortable as his muscles twitched.
After shaking off the sleepiness, he headed toward the grassland, where the centaur was practicing with his spear. Each swing was precise and controlled, impressive given the sheer length of the weapon.
William figured it was time to practice his sword technique. He pulled the technique scroll from his inventory, just a simple scroll tied with a grey ribbon. As he opened it, he found straightforward illustrations showing each stance, shift, and footwork.
Surprisingly, it was easy to grasp. There were only eight stances: four for offense and four for defense. Each rotation and step was marked with a clear, numbered order.
William drew the Balanced Steel sword, its blade catching the light with a gleam. He didn't need to check the edge to know it was razor-sharp. It was a longsword, meant for two hands, and was probably close to twenty pounds.
He gripped the sword by its hilt, mimicking the first stance illustration—a straight vertical slash. Thanks to his new physique, the weapon felt almost weightless in his hands. Planting his front foot firmly into the ground, he swung the blade straight down.
But the forward force threw off his balance. He clicked his tongue in annoyance and tried again, then five times, then ten—each swing with the same result. His weight kept shifting outward, following the momentum of the blade.
Not far away, the centaur watched William struggling for a while. After a moment, recognizing the problem, he strode over to help.
William stopped swinging when he noticed the centaur approaching. The centaur took a spot a few meters in front of him, then raised his spear and performed a flawless horizontal swing followed by a forward thrust. He stood rooted in place, hands steady and eyes tracking the tip of the spear.
William realized the centaur was trying to teach him, so he studied every movement. The centaur repeated the same move, but this time with much more force—and his stance finally broke.
Instantly, William understood where he'd screwed up. "So you're saying I'm putting too much force into my strikes?" he asked. The centaur nodded. William reset his stance, this time taking it slow, eyes locked on the blade.
He performed a forward slash—this time not with sheer force, but with control. His stance held steady. A grin spread across his face as he thanked the centaur.
The centaur wandered back, and William resumed practicing his vertical swings—again and again, determined to perfect the motion. After a dozen more, he switched to horizontal swings. These were tougher; he had to shift his grip from tight and close for the vertical slash to wide and loose for the horizontal.
He practiced the vertical and horizontal swings back-to-back. With every attempt, he grew steadier, his muscles adapting to the movements faster than he'd expected. After an hour, both strikes felt natural—his hands balanced, his stance solid.
He collapsed onto the ground, completely spent, sweat dripping down his face. Pulling out his water, he drank, then exhaled in relief. A crooked smile spread across his lips. "Not as hard as I thought. At this rate, I'll hit intermediate in this technique in two days at maximum," he said.
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Time zipped by. On the third and final day of the protection period, William and the centaur faced each other in the grassland, both breathing hard, sweat dripping down their faces as the sound of clashing metal echoed around them. Their strikes were clean, precise, and had no wasted movement.
William had already perfected all eight stances by the day before, his status now showing Basic Sword Technique (Low). After that, he tried to push his proficiency to intermediate before the test, but practising alone just wasn't doing the trick.
He'd asked Rollie about it, apparently, you could reach low proficiency by training solo, but for intermediate, you needed a real opponent. As for high proficiency, that could only be achieved through real fights and life-or-death situations.
So, to reach intermediate, he'd teamed up with the centaur, who also needed the practice. They'd been dueling for hours, trading blows, shifting from attack to defence and back every few seconds.
After a while, they stopped to rest. While drinking water, William thought, 'We're too evenly matched. At this rate, I'll never hit intermediate before the test. I also need to build that damn trap on the first floor. What I need is real pressure.'
He glanced at the Bloom Flowers. 'I could use the red one to boost Centaur's attack, but after a minute he'd be weakened, and we'd have to stop.' As he thought it over, Lumina started circling him, giggling every few seconds with her childlike antics.
An idea lit up William's eyes. "Well, this might work." He stood, patting Lumina's cheek. "Can you use Light Touch on him?" he asked, pointing at Centaur. Lumina stared at him with her big eyes, then, with a little "Kyuu~", drifted toward Centaur.
When she reached him, Lumina raised both hands and pointed at the centaur. Silver mana streamed from her palms, wrapping Centaur in a subtle silver glow, and the buff was active. With that, both of them took their positions and began sparring.
With a 20% boost to all attributes, Centaur's strikes hit much harder. William kept getting pushed back, forced to stay on the defensive most of the time. When the 30-second buff faded, they didn't stop—since there was no weakness effect, and Lumina could cast it a few more times, they just repeated the process.
This was exactly what he needed. They kept at it for a few hours, taking breaks whenever Lumina's mana ran out.
William sat, completely drained but grinning as he viewed his status. He'd finally reached intermediate proficiency, and thanks to using Light Touch so many times, Lumina's skill had also advanced to intermediate. Now, she could boost attributes by 25% for thirty seconds.
As he rested, the Tower System suddenly appeared before him, startling him to his feet. A flood of notifications related to the Ascension Test flashed across his vision.
[Greetings, Tower Lords.]
[The Ascension Test will begin in six hours.]
[The Gods will send Climbers at random.]
[Their strength will be Tier One(Low) to Tier One(Intermediate). The number of Climbers will be random.]
[Tower Lords will be judged on their performance and rewarded accordingly.]
[Tower Lords may kill the climbers or force them to submit.]
[If a Tower Lord fails to defend and the Tower Core is destroyed, they will die.]
The same notification flashed before every Tower Lord, strong or weak; it didn't matter. Tension filled the air; things had just gotten real. In six hours, they'd all be tested on what they'd prepared over the past three days.
William wasn't worried about the test itself, but about his luck. "What if I get all intermediate ones? I'd be royally fucked. I should start making the final touches," he muttered. Then he asked, "Rollie, how do I go to another floor?"
[Just think about visiting any floor and you'll be transported there.]
He did as instructed, first visiting the second floor. Unlike the Lords' floor, which was full of life, this place was dead silent—empty, a hundred meters on each side, surrounded by dark gray stone walls. The only light came from yellow stones embedded in the walls. It felt like a blank canvas, waiting to be filled.
William exhaled. "I'll buy something for this place after the test," he muttered, then headed to the first floor. It was just as empty as the second, completely blank. He'd expected to find a door, but there was nothing, just a walled-up cage.
He opened his status and scrolled through his inventory until he found the 'Poison Arrow Traps Blueprint.' Next to it, the word Use glowed. The moment he thought about it, a panel popped up with a notification.
[Poison Arrow Trap Blueprint Detected.]
[Resources required: 400 Wood, 200 Stone, 10 Iron, 5 Poison.]
[Construction will take 20 minutes. Please confirm to proceed.]
William frowned at the requirements. "That damn looney tune only gave me just enough to build the trap." As soon as he confirmed the build, the whole floor filled with white mist—just like when he'd summoned the centaur. The walls slowly started to close in.
As time passed, the walls closed in until only a single straight path remained—barely ten feet wide and stretching to the far end. The floor revealed itself, now lined with identical square tiles, randomly hiding a trigger for the arrows beneath.
Poison-tipped arrows were concealed within the walls, invisible to the naked eye. As the trap finished assembling, William nodded in satisfaction. "Let's see if those bastards enjoy a warm welcome."
⟡⟡⟡
[A/N]: Powerstones greatly help the novel. If you enjoy it, please throw some!