Scott stared at the blackened notification; his brows furrowed. Black meant only one thing: it was associated with the nihilistic zone.

The Nameless One has stopped watching you!

The notification disappeared, leaving Scott with more questions than answers. In the vast emptiness of space, his illusionary form continued to act according to the torturous commands of the lesser gods, yet Scott felt no pain. Instead, a desire had begun to take root in the mind of the voidweaver.

Scott blinked twice, and the illusionary space shattered. He opened his eyes once more and found himself lying on pristine marble tiles, surrounded by opaque partitions in an unfamiliar location. His companions also lay on the ground, a host of emotions playing across their faces.

Scott pushed himself into a sitting position, using one hand to rearrange his disheveled hair. He looked carefully at the glistening, but opaque walls surrounding them, catching hints of shadows moving behind them. The animated shadows moved about, each similar to the other. Perhaps there are other groups trapped behind those partitions, he guessed, not putting much thought into it. Turning his attention to his companions once more, he asked, “Are you guys okay?”

“That was something,” Orion giggled softly, still sprawled on the floor.

Zara, Slim, and Ember exchanged glances, their silence speaking volumes. Despite their efforts to hide it, Scott could see traces of fear in their trembling fingers and the confusion in their eyes.

They'll need some time to calm down after what happened, Scott mused as he pulled himself to his feet. He stared at the closest wall; his eyes fixed on the squirming shadows beyond it.

“Orion, are you up for an experiment?” Scott asked mentally.

Orion chuckled, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “Let’s hear it,” he replied mentally.

Scott activated the imprint of madness once more, pulling the mage into an illusionary space. This time, the duo wasn't alone. Creatures with the same blackened form as the lesser god of misfortune and the ambiguous form of the lesser god of torture surrounded them as soon as they arrived. Some violently hacked away at their forms while others performed vile acts of torture.

Orion laughed gleefully as his body contorted and bled, while Scott silently observed the creatures hellbent on eliciting the most painful torment possible. A moment later, Scott dispelled the illusion, and both champions returned to the glass room. Once again, Orion laughed with wanton abandon, a delirious ecstasy covering his eyes. Scott, on the other hand, frowned.

His experiment confirmed that, apart from Orion, it would be difficult to pull any of his other companions into his illusionary spaces anymore. While the possibility of going insane was nonexistent due to the imprint of madness, repeated torture could twist their personalities.

"This might be a problem," Scott muttered softly. Though tempted to see what would happen if he briefly sent Orion to the nihilistic zone, he didn't want to give the lesser god of misfortune the satisfaction.

You have decided to challenge Clacion’s layers as a group! Your group has been gifted three commands!

Commands Descend: When unanimously chosen and activated, all beings in a layer will descend to the next layer! Reshuffle: When activated, all beings within the activation layer will be sent back to the starting layer! Fight: When chosen and activated, descent will only be possible when specific targets are eliminated!

Note: There are no restrictions to command usage!

Scott stared at the new notification, frowning. Is there a mistake here or something? he thought.

"This doesn't look well thought out," Ember muttered, still seated on the floor but regaining her composure.

"I see what you're talking about," Slim chimed in, pulling himself into a sitting position. "Anyone with a little bit of sense can easily abuse it to gain a ridiculous amount of experience points. Descend once, use reshuffle to return to the start, and start the process all over again."

"But there's no telling if we would be rewarded for descending to the same floor over and over again," Zara interjected, stretching her neck with a series of popping sounds. "What bothers me the most is that, if we could figure it out, surely there are other people who have done the same and are probably using it now," she declared.

"Even if there are no rewards for repeated descent on one layer, those assigned to a particular layer can continue to descend until they reach the end. Everyone gets rewarded and gets to leave too," Ember said, watching as Scott approached to help the trio to their feet.

"People are dumb and greedy," Zara said suddenly. "Although that would be the most logical thing to do, there are people out there who wouldn't hesitate to slaughter everyone since there are more rewards up for grabs."

"The gods never make things simple. There's surely some catch we'll find out about later; I doubt things will go the way we expect," Slim added.

No one argued; there was always some kind of catch with matters involving the Tower of Champions.

After a long period of silence, Orion suddenly giggled, approaching one of the surrounding walls. "I have a theory," he said, pausing a few feet from the wall and looking up. "The gods don't care if people abuse it. In fact, I believe they'd be elated, especially knowing it would yield more entertainment for them—"

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"I have a headache right now, so forgive me for being forward, but what are you trying to say?" Zara interjected.

Orion turned around, wearing a bright smile. "The gods want us to get as powerful as possible. They don't care about us potentially abusing a glitch. But we all seem to be forgetting a mechanism they have in place to correct such a glitch."

Zara frowned. “What are you talking...” she paused, her frown deepening as a thought crossed her mind.

The same realization dawned on the other prisoners, turning their expressions serious. “The named calamities are there to keep us in check,” Ember muttered softly.

“Bingo!” Orion giggled. “Unfortunately, there’s no prize.” He lowered his gaze and continued approaching the wall again. “Of all places, three suddenly appeared in the same location where we fought. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t believe in coincidences. We were basically begging them to come and extinguish us back then. If my deductions are correct, anyone who abuses the glitch would be asking for the same.”

Slim sighed, shaking his head. “I’m tired of saying I really hate this place. Everything is just...” the necromancer sighed once more, shaking his head.

“So, what should our strategy be?” Ember asked, her gaze shifting from one person to another.

“It might be difficult to make a good strategy right now,” Scott answered. “We lack information. The only thing we know is that we must descend, and we won’t be the only ones trying to do that.”

“So, basically survive, huh,” Zara said, rearranging loose hair strands behind her ears.

“Exactly,” Orion and Scott said simultaneously.

“It doesn’t look like we will be able to get out of this one using some clever trick,” Slim sighed again.

Instinctively, the champions recalled what happened in the illusionary space, and a heavy silence hung in the air.

Scott looked around at his companions, his voice steady and calm. “We’re weak. That’s the truth we can’t escape. They tortured us, humiliated us, and laughed at us because of our weakness. But being weak isn’t our fault; it’s just a state of being. However,” he paused, his voice growing firmer, “remaining weak would be our greatest failure.”

He took a breath, his eyes burning with an eerie determination. “I’m done living under the shadow of forces that dictate my every move, that see us as insignificant. I refuse to be a pawn in their games, a mere spectator in my own life. From this moment on, I swear I will rise above this. I will become so powerful that even the gods will have no choice but to acknowledge me. An existence so undeniable that the mere mention of my name will make even the most fearsome beings tremble.”

Scott lifted his head, as if challenging the unseen powers watching them. “To those who have mocked and dismissed us, know this: the day will come when we make you regret underestimating us. Mark my words, we will become legends.”

The council of gods takes notice! Some lesser gods are intrigued; others are uneasy! The administrator records a bold declaration! Access to certain sanctuaries has been restricted! The Tower of Champions acknowledges your vow!

Scott lowered his head, taking deep breaths. His companions stared at him; their emotions evident on their stunned faces. Scott’s rare burst of emotion surprised them even more than his bold declaration. At that moment, they also had to reflect on their own goals and journey.

“Buddy, is that why you’re climbing the tower?” Slim broke the heavy silence, and all eyes focused on Scott.

“Yes,” Scott said without hesitation. “I can’t ask any of you to follow me—”

“You already selfishly declared we were going to become legends on your own. Are you taking that back already?” Zara interjected, smiling as she approached the voidweaver. “I probably would have died in that desert if I hadn’t met you guys; and it’s likely you guys will probably be the reason I’d die,” she paused a short distance away from Scott, smiling. She stretched out her right hand, making a fist which she placed on Scott’s chest. “Wouldn’t it be nice if we became gods? You and Slim would still be my minions, of course,” she said with a wink.

Scott smiled, then he turned toward Slim. The skeleton wore a dazzling grin while mouthing, “We will revolt against the feline tyrant.”

Scott could only silently shake his head. He turned toward Orion, and the mage wore an even brighter smile as he trembled. Scott didn’t need anyone to tell him the mage would follow him despite whatever ludicrous idea he proposed; in fact, an argument could be made that Orion was more interested in them because of their irrational antics and decisions.

Scott chuckled softly at the thought, then turned his attention to Ember. The dragonkin wore a deep frown, seemingly oblivious of Scott’s gaze.

“You don’t have to accompany us,” Scott said. “I wouldn’t want you to do anything that might compromise your relationship with your kin.”

Ember sighed softly, turning to face Scott. “It’s not that,” she began. “You seem not to realize the weight of your declaration. You’re not the first person to have uttered such words, and you’d probably not be the last. In fact, there are lesser gods right now who had once made such vows—”

“What’s the problem then?” Slim suddenly asked.

Ember turned toward the necromancer. “I have never heard of a situation where the tower itself acknowledges a vow.”

Silence hung in the air. The dragonkin prepared to continue, but a new system notification appeared.

The walls are descending! You have a minute to decide which command to use! Good luck!

The walls around them rumbled violently as the hound extermination crew huddled together, their backs pressed against each other. Plume, the Trisos who had joined them during their stay on Infernia, was missing. But in the chaos, no one spared a thought for the missing prisoner.

Three holographic projections flickered into existence near the ceiling. The first was a green downward arrow pointing to the ground. The second was a grey crisscrossing arrowhead, and the third was a flaming chain. The downward arrow sparkled, with the number 4 appearing beneath it. The crisscrossing arrowhead remained greyed out, while the flaming chain had the number 3 beneath it.

“What should we choose?” Zara muttered.

“Wait a bit longer,” Orion advised. “Let’s see what—” He suddenly stopped, blinking rapidly with a dazed expression. Zara turned to him, her face stern. “What’s wrong?”

Silence was her only response. Before Zara could speak again, an overwhelming pressure seized control of her body, rendering her unable to speak or move. Slim and Ember showed similar reactions, their faces etched with dread, and then nothing. Seemingly devoid of emotion. Scott, however, was focused on the walls that had already begun to lower, his gaze fixed on a human party a few feet away. Aside from the party and Scott, everyone else seemed frozen in time.

The leader had inky black hair that matched his black apparel and boots. Flaming crucifix tattoos covered his arms and neck, with a single blackened crucifix tattoo visible under his right eyelid. But Scott paid little attention to the man’s appearance; instead, he focused on the man’s citrine eyes, which glowed with an otherworldly presence.

Driven by curiosity, Scott opened his mouth instinctively. “Who are you?”

The man with the yellow eyes regarded Scott with a hint of surprise. “I can’t feel anything from you,” he said coolly. “I don’t like you.”