I was sitting, immersed in silence that was broken only by the subtle pulsing of chaos energy. The light filtering through the high windows danced on the walls, reflecting off swirling motes of energy in the air. Each one seemed like a living creature—unpredictable, wild, yet strangely fascinating.

I felt the pain—a physical reminder of the last battle. But it wasn’t the bruises and scratches that kept me tense. What had happened during that clash wouldn’t let me rest.

The ability to control chaos energy granted me an unparalleled power. I could feel it strengthening every muscle, accelerating every nerve impulse. I was faster, stronger, more… instinctual. Yet with that power came consequences. My emotions had spiraled out of control. Frustration and anger erupted within me with a force I’d never known. I couldn’t hold them back—just as I couldn’t contain chaos itself.

I realized that the excess chaos energy within me led to its immediate conversion into raw power. It burned out faster than I could tame it. It was like fire—mighty, yet hard to control. This was a force I could harness, but it came at a price. In the end, losing control of my emotions during battle could lead to tragic consequences.

I sighed deeply, replaying every moment of the fight in my mind. Why had I lost? The answer came sooner than I expected. My long hair—because of it, the warrior had caught me during a dodge, yanking me and throwing me to the ground. That was the moment I lost both my advantage and control over the situation.

But it wasn’t just my hair. I lacked experience. In battle, I relied solely on evasion, as if I could dodge every blow instead of facing them head-on. It wasn’t a fight—it was an escape. I had no plan, no strategy. I felt as though I had stepped onto the battlefield empty-handed, relying only on luck and reflexes. That realization was bitter, yet necessary.

I turned my gaze toward the warrior, who stood silently in the corner of the hall with his arms crossed over his chest. He was gently twirling the hilt of his sword with his fingers, and the blade began to change shape. In one moment it was long and slender, and in the next, massive and broad—as if he were testing every possible form.

I looked at him with curiosity. During our battle, he had used only one form of his sword. Simple, effective, but now I saw that he was capable of so much more. So why had he limited himself to a single style then? Did he think I wasn’t worth witnessing the full extent of his abilities? Or perhaps… was it part of his method to test me?

"I could borrow your sword for a moment?" I asked calmly, even though my heart was beating faster.

The warrior looked at me coolly and shook his head. "No. That is my sword. Only I may touch it."

I raised an eyebrow slightly, but instead of insisting, I changed my plans. "In that case… will you help me? I need you to cut my hair."

For a moment, the warrior regarded me as if contemplating my request, then nodded and stepped closer. His footsteps echoed against the cold, stone walls, and a heavy silence fell over the room. He raised his sword with a precision that rendered his movements almost ritualistic.

I felt a cold shiver as the blade approached my skin. The sword paused for a fraction of a second just at my neck, as if the warrior were giving me one last chance to change my mind. Then, without a word, he cut my long hair with a single, fluid motion.

The sound of the cut was sharp and distinct, as if the metal was slicing not only through my hair but through reality itself. The strands fell to the ground in slow motion, swirling gently in the air before settling on the cold floor. Each individual lock landed with a quiet rustle.

With one problem off my mind, it was time to address what truly troubled me: the chaos energy. How could I tame it? How could I make it obey my command rather than slip out of control?

I closed my eyes and focused on the chaos energy, trying once more to channel it into my body. I felt it begin to circulate in my veins, pulsing rhythmically like an extra heartbeat. In an instant, this energy would transform into pure power, fortifying my muscles and sharpening my reactions. My body became stronger, faster, more resilient.

Yet that power burned out just as quickly—before it could manifest externally. It was like trying to catch the wind with my hands. Without proper “storage” of the energy, I couldn’t effectively use it beyond the confines of the tower.

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Then it struck me—here in the tower, chaos energy was concentrated and nearly omnipresent. It was because of this that I could manipulate power with such ease. But what would happen when I left these walls? What if the outside world didn’t provide the same abundance of energy? Would I be left defenseless? I had to find a way to carry that strength with me.

Then I remembered the moment from the fight. It was my hair. Just as chaos energy within my body immediately converted into pure power, it had also escaped through my hair in its raw, chaotic form. That uncontrolled flow of energy had enabled me to deliver the final attack.

"And what if…" I thought, a smile tugging at my lips. Instead of allowing chaos energy to automatically convert into pure energy inside my body—being constantly expended—I could begin to store it. Right there, in my hair, in its raw, chaotic form.

I concentrated the chaos energy and directed it into my hair. I could feel the energy accumulating there, remaining in its raw, chaotic form. It had become like a living battery, storing chaos energy—it didn’t flow out immediately but waited for my command. It was like taming a wild beast—I knew I could use it and transform it into pure energy within my body whenever I desired.

I began to wonder if I would be able to harness this energy externally as well, just as I had during battle. How could I release chaos in its raw form again, without converting it into internal power?

Only after I finished the experiment did I notice something strange. My hair began to regrow—if only a little—but it was different. It pulsed with a gentle rhythm of chaos energy, ready for my command. I furrowed my brows as I surveyed the space around me; the tower was still brimming with concentrated chaos energy.

I started to wonder—I wanted to absorb it all. But then what? Would my hair turn into a gigantic carpet sprawling across the floor? The thought was both amusing and unsettling.

Yet, I soon observed something even stranger. As I absorbed more chaos energy, my hair grew only to the length it had been before the warrior cut it. Then the growth halted, even as I continued to feel the energy surging into my strands. Instead of lengthening further, the energy began to compress—boosting its “charge” without increasing its volume. My hair grew heavier with power, yet its length remained unchanged. This discovery was astonishing—I could absorb all the chaos energy from the tower without worrying that I’d end up with hair trailing behind me like a carpet.

Fascinated by this newfound property, I ceased paying attention to my surroundings. Completely absorbed in the process, I began to endlessly draw chaos energy from the tower, feeling each impulse fill my hair with ever greater charge.

I lost myself in that trance, unable to stop—until, suddenly, the warrior’s piercing shout ripped me from my reverie.

"Stop!" his voice echoed off the walls, and I abruptly opened my eyes, confused. I was breathing heavily, as if I had just emerged from the depths.

I looked at the warrior, who regarded me with a mixture of surprise and concern. His face was tense, and there was something in his eyes that was hard to ignore.

"I see you're having a great time," he said sarcastically, gesturing toward my hair. "But if you keep pulling like that, you'll drain all the energy from this tower. The tower itself will become useless."

Startled, I glanced around. The chaos energy that had once filled the space had nearly vanished. The air felt heavier—as though the pulsing heartbeat of the tower had suddenly weakened. Only then did I realize how close I had come to completely depleting its reserves.

The warrior sighed, still watching me tensely. "This tower will probably replenish its chaos energy on its own," he said, softening his tone slightly. "But it's best not to take any risks. Leave some of that energy so it doesn’t have to regenerate from scratch. For now, we probably won’t be able to use it."

His words struck me like a blow. I looked around the tower once more, noticing just how little chaos energy remained in the air. Seeing how much I had absorbed, it dawned on me that I might have been able to use the tower one more time before I brought it to this state. I had ruined it.

But instead of crying over spilled milk, another thought began to fascinate me. Was this tower really just a tool for summoning? Did it harbor other secrets as well?

I regarded the warrior thoughtfully. Did he… have a system? Since he was a unit summoned by the tower, one might assume he shouldn’t have access to a status display. But did only rulers really possess systems? Or perhaps every being in this world had access to something similar?

"Hey, warrior," I began, frowning. "Do you have a system? Can you open your status?"

The warrior looked at me, puzzled, as if he didn’t understand the question. "System? Status? I don’t know what you’re talking about."

I sighed with mild irritation. "Just say 'status'. Out loud."

He shrugged, as if to imply that it was a silly request, but he complied. "Status."

Suddenly, a strange, luminous window appeared before him, hovering in mid-air. His arms stiffened and his grip on the hilt of his sword tightened, as if he were preparing for an attack. For several long seconds, he stood motionless, staring at the pulsating symbols and lines of text that illuminated the space before him.

Then something inside him snapped. Instead of panicking, he relaxed his hold and reached toward the interface. His fingers trembled for a moment, but when he touched one of the icons, his face lit up with pure fascination. He began to swipe through the panels, scrolling through lists of statistics and examining every detail, as if he’d discovered a new toy. Every so often, he raised an eyebrow, visibly surprised by the information that appeared before him.

I watched him with growing disbelief. It seemed that not only Lords possessed a status.