Clearing the final leg of Nexus Delta-04 was a meticulous, high-stakes game of inches.

  Over the next month, I established a rhythm. Spend two days on logistics and building up the settlements, cities and establishments, then spend one night cracking open a floor. The floors after 90 were a mortal challenge, and so I wasn’t taking any chances. Before every major threshold, I retreated to my private command tent in the Lobby, burned a cooldown, and used [Glimpse of a Path] to map the threats ahead.

  Floor 91 was a volcanic vent where the “lava” was liquid solar-fire. I ate it with the [Hunger], turning it into the most potent heating-coils Eliza had ever seen. The Glimpse showed me that the Fire-Elementals there were actually symbiotic colonies; if you killed the Queen, the drones harmlessly dissipated. It saved us hours of fighting.

  Floor 92 was a void-bubble filled with null-beasts. Ironically, they were weak against a specific mana frequency within the Void, confusing my manipulated Authority signature with their alpha’s. I basically ordered them to stop attacking, turning a massacre into a harvest.

  Floor 95 was… odd. It was a garden of singing steel. The trees were blades; the grass was wire. The Guardian was a construct made of pure harmonics. In the Glimpse, it liquefied my brain with a sharp note. In reality, I wore custom-enchanted ear protection Leoric whipped up after getting a memory packet of the exact frequencies and dismantled it while it screamed silently.

  By Floor 99, I was exhausted, bruised, and exhilarated. I stood before the final gate, feeling the hum of my own perfected stats.

  I pulled up my Status Sheet. I had finally reached the peak of Tier 7.

  NAME: Eren Kai

  STAGE: 2

  CORE ATTRIBUTES:

  SOUL STRENGTH: S+

  SOUL GATE INTEGRITY: Grade S+

  ESSENCE MANIFESTATION:

  BODY: 799

  MANA: 799

  SPIRIT: 799

  SYSTEM SKILLS (9/10 Slots Used):

  [Syntropy] (Mythic)

  [The Void-Star’s Hunger] (Mythic)

  [Domain of the Ashen Phoenix] (Mythic)

  [Prime Axiom’s Nullifying Veil] (Mythic)

  [Void Walk] (Legendary)

  [Void Perception] (Legendary)

  [Apex Mana Authority] (Legendary)

  [Echo of the Ashen Sovereign] (Legendary)

  [Armory of the Ashen Soul] (Epic)

  “Four Mythics,” I murmured, running my hand over the glowing numbers. “And two Legendaries knocking on the door. I just hope my plan to combine and evolve my two Void skills with my Mana Authority works… then I will be called for the tournament. And I also need another skill that goes well with my set...”

  That was the current rough draft of my plan for my skills. The Mythic Five participants had tons of preparation before entry. So acquiring a new Legendary skill, evolving my Armory from Epic rarity and then trying to combine those three skills should give me a better shot at surviving whatever comes. The two open skill slots I should get once I evolve the last Mythic would be indispensable in determining my chances, which I will fill based on what I need after the Summoning.

  Back in Bastion, the mood was electric. The constant influx of high-tier materials from the towers had transformed the city into a magitech utopia. It was slowly turning into our shining capital.

  I walked through the Academy grounds with Anna. The buildings weren’t simple stone anymore; they were reinforced with Void-Alloy and polished granite that hummed with defensive wards, enchantments and detection runes.

  “Master Eren!”

  The Smith mentor from Zenith, Megmus, waved me down. He was standing over a massive anvil that glowed with inner fire in the open-air workshop. He looked exhausted but manic, surrounded by young apprentices who watched him like he was a prophet.

  “Look at this!” he bellowed, holding up a shield that seemed to trap sunlight inside its metal. “We combined the Diamond-Dust from Floor 65 with the Solar-Ore from Floor 91! It absorbs light kinetic energy and converts it into barrier reinforcement! We can make solar-mana-powered defensive grids!”

  “Does it hold?” I asked, inspecting the intricate rune-work etched into the surface.

  “Hold? It brushed off a Tier 6 siege cannon test this morning!” Megmus cackled, clapping a young Dweorg on the back so hard the boy stumbled. “And young Aris here… the boy has hands of stone. He helped me temper the flux. He sensed the impurity minutes before any other apprentice. He’s going to be a Grandmaster by thirty.”

  The boy, Aris, beamed, clutching his hammer. “Thank you, Master Megmus! Thank you, Lord Eren!”

  “Good work,” I nodded, activating my inventory. “For that insight, Aris, you get this.”

  I handed him a small vial of Liquid Starlight I had harvested from the resort.

  “One drop in your water once a week. It clarifies mana perception. Use it wisely.”

  The boy looked like he might faint. Megmus just nodded approval.

  I visited the alchemy labs. Eliza had expanded significantly. The labs now spanned three basement levels, filled with bubbling vats and scuttling construct assistants.

  “We’ve automated the lower-tier potion brewing,” she reported, wiping blue soot from her forehead but looking happier than I had ever seen her. “The mana-presses are churning out 500 healing drafts an hour. We’re supplying every settlement in a thousand-mile radius. Our potion making has evolved sufficiently for a while and the apprentices can handle the rest of the processes. I want to start exploring other aspects of alchemy and expand the labs with more sections.”

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  “Sounds good, whatever you need. How are the Neutral Factions doing?”

  “Trading,” Lucas confirmed, walking in with a digital manifest. “Even Korg sent a quiet request for a bulk shipment of recovery and mana potions. He’s paying in rare minerals from his sector. Pride is expensive, but healing is necessary. His people are tired of bleeding.”

  “We own the market,” I smiled. “Benevolent monopoly.”

  To ensure this prosperity reached everyone, I implemented a new layer to the economy: The Merit Shop.

  The System Shop was great for awarding people who excelled in their Essence related fields, but it ignored many aspects that we deemed vital. It didn’t reward the scribe who organized the tax codes or the farmer who grew the void-wheat if their System skills weren’t related to their profession.

  “Here is where we track the contribution points,” Jeeves explained the new interface floating in the city square. “Administrative tasks, teaching, cleaning, crafting — everything earns Merit. Merit can be exchanged for Void-Meals, specific skill manuals from the Archive, personal tutoring sessions with the Mentors, and many other rewards set up in this section here.”

  It worked. Productivity skyrocketed. People realized they didn’t have to follow the System quests, evolve their skills or kill monsters to get powerful; they just had to contribute.

  “A Duel is happening! Students from the Academy!” someone shouted from the training yards.

  I wandered over. A crowd had gathered. Two students — a human boy wielding a spear and a S’skarr girl with dual daggers — were sparring in the circle.

  The human lunged. The S’skarr didn’t dodge; she slid under his guard, using a gravity-shift technique taught by one of the Zenith monks. She tapped his chest plate.

  “Dead,” she hissed playfully.

  “Cheater!” the boy laughed. “We said no mana manipulation but you used mana on your feet!”

  “I did not manipulate any mana, it’s an inherent skill we learned!”

  I clapped. The crowd turned, gasping as they recognized who it was.

  “Excellent use of low-center gravity,” I complimented the girl. “And you,” I pointed to the boy, “good recovery, but don’t overcommit to the thrust. Keep your back foot planted.”

  “Yes, Lord!” they chorused.

  “Reward,” I announced. “For a spirited bout.”

  I pulled two items from the Armory of the Ashen Soul. For the girl, a dagger crafted from Shadow-Glass material we got from Floor 55. For the boy, a spear-tip forged from the fang of a Wind-Drake.

  “Grow strong,” I told them. “Ferra needs guardians. Make sure to sign up for the upcoming events, there will be plenty more rewards then, maybe even some Legendary items…”

  The cheers were deafening.

  My anima and allies were busy too. Anna and Freja were currently speed-running Tower Delta-12 to farm Elemental Cores, turning it into a competitive sport.

  “Race you to the top!” Anna’s voice boomed over the comms.

  “You’re on!” Freja laughed, static crackling. “First one to the boss gets the kill-shot!”

  They were stronger. Much more confident in their capabilities. The fear that had once defined their lives under the system was gone, replaced by the hunger for progress.

  But for me, the hunger was specific.

  I returned to Nexus Delta-04. Floor 99.

  The Gate to Floor 100 was massive. It wasn’t a door; it was a wall of liquid gold, shimmering with intricate geometric patterns that hurt my eyes to trace. The pressure rolling off it was tangible.

  “Okay,” I breathed, the air thin and sharp in my lungs. “I’m at the peak of Tier 7. My gear is the best it currently can be and my skills are primed.”

  It was time.

  I sat down in the safe zone of Floor 99. I ate a final nutrient bar. I drank a flask of Zenith-recovery water.

  “Glimpse is up,” I noted, checking the cooldown.

  I looked at Anna, who had insisted on accompanying me to the door.

  “Be careful,” she said. “Don’t die.”

  “I plan to die a lot,” I smirked. “That’s the point.”

  I closed my eyes.

  “Show me the boss, System.”

  [Glimpse of a Path.]

  I stepped through the Golden Gate.

  The sensation was immediate displacement. I wasn’t in a room. I wasn’t even in a cavern anymore.

  I was standing on the surface of a star.

  Or at least, an artificial one.

  The floor was blinding light. The sky was an endless expanse of burning plasma. The heat was conceptual; it burned the will, not the skin.

  And in the center, mediating on a throne made of singularity-glass, was the Guardian.

  He looked… human.

  Or he would have, if humans were much taller and had multiple arms on each side. He was seven feet tall, skin like polished obsidian, with six arms floating detached behind his back. Each arm held a weapon — a sword, a spear, a bow, a staff, a chalice, and a book.

  He opened his eyes. Entire galaxies seemed to swirl within them.

  “What are your intentions,” the entity spoke. His voice didn’t move air; it moved intention. It vibrated in my teeth.

  “Just scouting,” I replied, drawing my Void-Blade.

  “Scouts die quite frequently,” he smiled benignly.

  He moved.

  I did not see any movement. He simply appeared in front of me, but it was an inferior skill, utilizing Space instead of the Void.

  The spear thrust.

  I blocked with [Mana Authority], expanding a shield to deflect the incoming tip.

  The spear ignored the concept of defense. It pierced my shoulder.

  I gasped, the pain was excruciating, completely bypassing my Domain and pain inhibitors.

  “Rule One,” the being lectured, sweeping my legs with the staff while simultaneously firing an arrow of light into my chest. “An Ascendant does not follow the Laws. Ascendants impose them.”

  I [Void Walked] backward, healing instantly with a thought. The wound unzipped and vanished.

  “Edict: Crush.”

  I slammed him with gravity.

  He shrugged. The chalice glowed, and the gravity reversed, flinging me into the plasma sky.

  “Rule Two,” he called out, reading from the book. “A Sovereign’s Authority is a feeble request. An Ascendant’s, is a command.”

  We fought. Or rather, I survived.

  He was fast, strong, and impossibly versatile. He switched fighting styles mid-swing. He used spells that rewrote the environment — turning the floor to water, the air to stone.

  But he wasn’t invincible.

  I noticed a lag. When he switched weapons, the aura flickered.

  “Another construct,” I analyzed, dodging a sword strike that cleaved the horizon. “A simulation of a god, limited by the tower’s mana. It’s like the tower has to reallocate power for each weapon style.”

  I grinned, blood in my teeth.

  “I can eventually beat you.”

  “Show me,” the entity challenged.

  I summoned the Flame. The white-gold fire roared, eating the plasma of the artificial star.

  “Hunger!”

  I drained the environment to fuel my mana reserves, further empowering [Domain] to try to keep up with his own.

  I charged.

  The fight raged for hours in subjective time. I almost died more times than I could count, regenerating my entire body with [Syntropy], but eventually, I reached my limits.

  It was going to be very challenging. The entity’s Domain wasn’t as oppressive as a real Ascendant, and my Hunger wasn’t able to fully consume its mana, but it was doable. Especially since it was a construct, not a proper Tier 9 being that could detect my Glimpse.

  I snapped back to reality on Floor 99.

  Sweating. Shaking. But smiling.

  “Floor 100,” I whispered. “It’s going to be a knowledge check. A test of versatility. And patience.”

  I stood up.

  I wasn’t going in yet. Not for a while. I needed a lot more than a single Glimpse.

  But now I had an idea what to expect, and my initial fight showed me something else… a hint of what lay behind the Guardian. The roof wasn’t infinite. It had a ceiling.

  And I was going to shatter it.

  “Jeeves,” I called back to base. “Tell Leoric to prepare the forge. I have a design for a new shield based on the Chalice I just saw. And tell Masha to prepare a feast, let’s celebrate the accrual of the Tower’s resources with everyone. Then we have to set up a proper opening ceremony for the upcoming events for the Academy.”

  “Very good, Master. And the Tower, has Floor 100 been confirmed as the final challenge?”

  “I think so,” I said, walking to the teleporter pad to the Tower’s lobby, my eyes burning with anticipation. “Though, there is this weird sensation I am getting… I can’t tell what it exactly is but I think it’s going to be something big.”