“Is it just me, or did you guys become shorter for some reason?” Slim muttered, his bony arms akimbo. The skeleton then noticed something off—the size of his suit had shrunk considerably. “Huh? Why do my clothes look like this?” Slim animatedly observed his attire, unable to hide the panic in his voice.
Meanwhile, Scott, Orion, and Ember's tensed features began to relax. At that same moment, Zara's form trembled softly in Ember's arms, and the puppeteer stirred awake. Her blood-red irises shifted between her companions, lingering on Slim as the drowsiness in her eyes disappeared.
“Am I seeing things, or did Slim get way, way taller?” she muttered, tempted to rub her eyes in disbelief.
“It doesn’t seem like there are any changes to their personalities,” Orion commented with a chuckle, though there was a lingering sense of disappointment in his voice. His staff vanished into his inventory, and Scott’s war hammer followed, retreating into the nihilistic zone.
Scott's gaze alternated between the newly advanced champions. “So, how do you guys feel?”
Slim stopped probing his bones, lifting his head toward Scott. “I feel weird, buddy,” he said after a momentary pause. “Everything feels smaller, and I constantly hear voices in my head,” he added, his tone slightly bewildered.
“Oh?” Orion’s eyes sparkled with interest. “What are they saying?”
“They’re singing,” Slim clarified. “The death hymn…” he added, his voice dropping to a low murmur.
The expressions of the champions stirred, even more so Orion, whose interest was thoroughly piqued. “Sing it,” he said eagerly.
“Please don’t,” Zara quickly interjected, managing to stand on her own two feet.
“My leader, even if you hadn’t said anything, there’s no way I would do that,” Slim muttered softly. He cast a glance at Orion. “Buddy, you’re going to bite off more than you can chew someday. Knowing you, you’d probably laugh in excitement without giving two fucks.” The skeleton grinned, and Orion mirrored his expression.
“So, what are your new classes?” Scott suddenly asked. All eyes focused on the recently advanced duo, silently awaiting their answers.
Zara’s cheeks flushed with a hint of embarrassment as her gaze began to wander, and she fiddled with strands of her now crimson hair. “Feral Marionette,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “The system is so stupid. Who asked it to make me a puppeteer?” she grumbled softly.
Ember stifled her rising urge to laugh, pulling the feline into her embrace while gently patting her head. Zara’s face turned even redder as she buried her face into Ember’s soft bosom. All eyes then turned toward Slim, and the skeleton wore a confident smile as he declared, “I’m now a Requiem Conductor.”
Ember and Orion’s brows furrowed; neither of them familiar with the class or its abilities. “That sort of explains the singing then,” Orion muttered. “Were you given options before the advancement?”
Slim shook his head. “Not at all,” he began. “The system simply said I had met the requirements for a hidden class—”
“A hidden class?” Orion, Ember, and Scott interjected simultaneously. The full weight of their gazes bore down on the skeleton. Slim smiled awkwardly as he nodded. “Yeah. That’s what the system said.”
Champion Interface Basic Stats
Name: Slim the Grim Level: 65. Experience Points: 800/6600
Race:
* Undead!
Class: Requiem Conductor.
Party Members:
* Scott Dorsey.
* Orion Audeus.
* Ember.
* Fi-Fi.
* Zara [Party Leader].
Title:
* Death's Maestro.
* Minion 9999.
* Calamity in charge of Area D-15.
Rank:
* 1.
Energy Sources:
* Necrotic Essence: Draws power from death and decay.
* Imprint of Madness – Partial.
* Melodic Resonance: Channels energy through songs and vocal performances.
Abnormal State: Happy. Blessings: Illusionary Mirror - Mimicry. Incarceration: Godsfall Island !
Requiem Members:
* Wraith Choristers: Ethereal singers that provide buffs and debuffs through their songs.
* Undead Minions: Skeletons, zombies, and necromantic summons that fight for the Conductor.
Sponsor: None!
Physical Stats Strength: 55. Agility: 70. Endurance: 30. Dexterity: 70. Toughness: 45.
Skills Necromantic Arts [Level 6] Vocal Mastery [Level 6] Life Drain [Level 3] Wraith Chorus [Level 4] Death's Lullaby [Level 4] Bone Conduction [Level 2] Spectral Symphony [Level 2] Party Communication (Level 2)
Abilities [High-Tier]
* Domain of the Dead: Creates a zone where the living are weakened, and the dead are strengthened. Skeletons and wraiths are summoned within this domain.
* Requiem's Command: Directs the wraiths to specific tasks, enhancing their effectiveness.
* Melodic Drain: Uses songs to drain life energy from enemies, healing the Conductor or empowering his minions.
* Melody of the Mad God: ??? – [Imprint of Madness dependent!]
* Haunting Harmony: Causes enemies to be enthralled or frightened by the spectral songs, reducing their combat effectiveness.
* Dirge of the Damned: A powerful song that can temporarily increase the power and resilience of all undead under the Conductor's control.
Quests
Main Quest: Complete your second mission – Ongoing! Side Quest: Announce yourself at the Point of no Return – Not Started!
Scott's attention drifted momentarily to Slim's overhauled system interface, where his gaze lingered on the Melody of the Mad God—a new skill whose ominous name stirred a fresh set of questions. Yet, Scott knew better than to let his thoughts wander; after all, nothing would reveal itself no matter how much he dwelled on it.
"My new class is a hidden one, too," Zara announced, her arms still wrapped around Ember’s body.
"Oh? Another hidden class. That’s interesting," Orion commented, nodding as if taking mental notes. Just as the mage prepared to speak again, a system notification suddenly manifested in front of the champions.
You failed to choose a command within the allocated time!
The expressions of the champions stiffened, a looming sense of danger overwhelming their minds. Another notification appeared almost immediately:
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
You will be punished!
The crew stared at the floating blue screen, a palpable silence enveloping the area.
Please choose a command!
A third notification blinked with a warm hue in front of Zara. She released her grip around Ember’s waist, her gaze wandering toward her companions. “What should I choose?”
“Descend,” all members of the party declared simultaneously.
“That’s the only sensible option, really. There’s nowhere for us to reshuffle to, we can’t fight anyone here either. So, descend is kind of the obvious call,” Orion muttered, staring intensely at Zara.
Without hesitation, Zara clicked on the first option [Descend].
The holographic arrow depicting the command lit up; and in that same moment, a crack echoed. Before anyone could react, the floor beneath the champions shattered. Hearts in mouths, eyes widened, arms flailing, the hound extermination crew plunged into the icy mist below, while the corpses previously strewn on the floor combusted and then disintegrated into white ash.
A strange gravitational pull acted on the falling prisoners, increasing their descent speed. Neither of them had any sense of bearing nor could they adjust their positions. A thunderous bang followed as the group crashed into heaps of snow.
You have received 10,000 Exp for descending a layer! Congratulations! You have leveled up! Level: 71 Experience Points: 5000/7200
Scott managed to extricate himself from the voluminous snow, his gaze lingering on the frozen wasteland they had descended into. The sky was nonexistent—only a swirling grey vortex unleashing an unending torrent of snow, coupled with rancorous winds intent on battering everything in their path.
"Are you guys okay?" Scott called out mentally.
Slim popped out from the surrounding snow, his teeth clattering as the unforgiving winds struck against his skull. Zara and Ember revealed themselves next, with Orion leaping out moments later like an excited child.
Your punishment has been determined! You must endure Clacion’s climate for at least three minutes!
“No one can endure this for three minutes,” Slim commented mentally, the biting cold rattling through his bones.
Orion’s whimsical laughter echoed in their minds, and before they could react, the prisoners felt something attach itself to their bodies. A wave of warmth followed.
“I knew such a day would come,” Orion declared mentally. “I’m never going to die by freezing to death,” he added as he forced himself to stand on the snow. A thin, somewhat crimson layer covered the entirety of the mage’s form, and the same glow enveloped the rest of the hound extermination crew. One after another, they extricated themselves from where they had fallen, but none moved further into the wasteland.
Though tempted to ask how the mage had managed to ward off the cold, no one spoke. They were all too familiar with Orion’s eccentric abilities. Instead, they collectively observed the snowy wasteland, which constantly accumulated layers of fresh snow. Yet, for some reason, the prisoners did not sink into the snowy earth but hovered above it.
“I wonder what else they have in store for us?” Orion questioned mentally.
“Please don’t jinx it,” Zara chided the mage as she tried to peer through the thick, icy fog. However, only a hazy, swirling mist met her gaze. Although the party stood close to each other, it was still difficult for them to see one another.
“So, we’re just going to wait here for the next couple of minutes, huh?” Slim muttered mentally.
“Do you have some place to be?” Zara retorted. “I don’t think there’s anything we can do,” she added.
Orion retrieved a small spatula and tiny vials from his inventory. The mage crouched, carefully scooping several spoonfuls of snow into labeled vials. With a contented smile, he began to stand, but something caught his eye. His vision narrowed in concentration, and without a word, he retrieved his staff, slamming its base into the snow. A vibration rippled through the thick layer beneath them, and Orion's smile brightened as he turned toward his companions. But the stunned expressions on their faces made him pause, their heads raised, eyes fixed on the turbulent heavens.
What are they looking at? Orion wondered, his gaze instinctively following theirs. His brows shot up, and his mouth parted slightly in surprise. Now, you don’t see that every day, he thought, staring at the hazy sky where two figures clad in snow-white Daoist robes stood atop glistening golden swords.
“Um, buddies, I know I don’t have eyes and all, but we’re all seeing those guys standing there, right? This isn’t some kind of illusion, is it?” Slim asked, his confusion evident.
Though the skies were hazy and thick fog surrounded them, the figures remained clear, their robes shimmering with an azure luminescence.
Champion Interface Basic Stats
Name: ??? Level: 65. Cultivation Base: Divine Transcendence [godly manifestation]. Experience Points: 800/6600
Race:
* Kitsune!
Class:
* Cultivator.
* Yōkai.
Title: None.
Energy Sources:
* Ice Qi.
Abnormal State: Curious. Sponsor: None!
Physical Stats Strength: 45. Agility: 76. Endurance: 20. Dexterity: 78. Toughness: 35.
Scott stared at the stats of the cultivators; disbelief etched across his face. Both figures wore silver fox masks that obscured their identities, but their iridescent turquoise eyes shimmered hauntingly behind the masks. Despite Hastur’s gaze, Scott couldn’t discern their skills, abilities, or quests. It was both surprising and unsettling to discover there were other ways to accumulate power in the tower—ways he had yet to comprehend. He couldn't help but wonder just how many other absurd and enigmatic beings were lurking out there, still undiscovered.
“Scott, please tell me this isn’t an illusion,” Orion asked mentally, his voice brimming with barely contained excitement.
“Your data field is still up, isn’t it?” Scott retorted.
“Yeah,” Orion nodded vigorously.
“You’re not being tortured right now, either. So, it’s definitely real,” Scott confirmed, then made an announcement on the party channel. “Be careful, everyone. These guys are different,” he warned, his tone leaving no room for doubt.
“Different how?” Zara was the first to speak, her gaze fixed on the enigmatic cultivators.
“They’re cultivators,” Scott declared without hesitation. The word sent Orion into a visible frenzy of excitement.
“Culti-what-now?” Slim asked, his confusion palpable. Zara and Ember shared a similar bewildered expression, unfamiliar with the term. Scott had no intention of elaborating further, not with the cultivators glaring down at them. Orion, however, was all too eager to explain. With barely suppressed excitement, the mage offered a brief, enthusiastic summary of what a cultivator was.
“Wait, you’re telling me people from your world used to write about them for entertainment?” Ember questioned, incredulous, and Orion affirmed with an eager nod and grin. “But how did they know?” she pressed, voicing the same question lingering in the minds of the other prisoners.
Orion giggled softly. “Honestly, I wish I knew,” he mused, his gaze narrowing as he scrutinized the cultivators. “My theory is that everything we once considered imaginative thoughts, artistic inspirations if you will, might actually stem from people experiencing what other variants of themselves were seeing. The timelines don’t make sense, but time itself isn’t linear, so it’s entirely possible that there are timelines where races from the same planet were integrated into the tower in the past—or the far future. Exciting, isn’t it?”
Silence followed as everyone mulled over Orion’s words, the weight of his theory sinking in. Unlike Scott, the rest of the crew couldn't fully grasp the implications, but the thought lingered, nonetheless.
Without warning, one of the cultivators raised their hand, summoning several glistening swords that hovered ominously around them. The figure lowered their hand, and the swords shot toward the hound extermination crew like deadly comets. In response, several blackened portals manifested, each one swallowing a sword before it could even reach the midway point of its flight.
The cultivators’ eyes widened in shock; their astonishment palpable even through their masks. Without hesitation, they spun on their swords and vanished into the soulless grey skies with a burst of speed that left only a faint ripple in the air.
“Well… that was something,” Orion remarked, his tone a mix of amusement and admiration as he applauded the cultivators' swift retreat.
Scott turned his attention to Orion, his curiosity evident. “Orion, you’re a mage, correct?”
Orion met the voidweaver’s gaze, sensing the intensity behind it. He smiled, nodding. “That’s correct, and I know what you’re about to ask.” The mage raised seven fingers, his grin widening. “Seven circles. That’s how many I have,” he added, his pride unmistakable.
The duration of your punishment has ended.
Before anyone could react, the ground beneath them shattered, and a new notification appeared in their minds. Once again, the hound extermination crew plunged into the abyss below.