You have received 10,000 Exp for descending a layer! Congratulations! You have leveled up! Level: 73. Experience Points: 700/7400.

A luminous notification appeared in front of each member of the hound extermination crew as they lay sprawled on the cold, icy ground. Yet, their gazes remained focused on their new environment. Towering, crystalline ice pillars formed a labyrinthine network of paths that seemed to stretch into infinity.

Where are we? Scott thought to himself as he slowly rose to his feet. The air was frigid, but despite the biting cold, he felt no discomfort. He scanned the paths stretching out before them, but apart from the neatly carved ice pillars, nothing about the place seemed particularly out of the ordinary. His eyes then shifted to his companions, who were also picking themselves up off the ground.

“Are you guys okay?” he asked, his gaze shifting between them, checking for signs of injury or disorientation.

“My ass is sore, but I’ll live,” Slim muttered, rubbing his behind as if to emphasize the point.

Zara rolled her eyes, barely restraining her urge to smack the skeleton upside his skull. “You don’t even have an ass,” she muttered under her breath, holding back the sarcastic comment that lingered on the tip of her tongue.

“There are five paths,” Ember observed suddenly, her voice cutting through the tension. “And there are five of us. I don’t think that’s a coincidence,” she added, her tone thoughtful.

The prisoners all turned their attention to the dragonkin, intrigued by her insight, especially Orion, who seemed particularly captivated by her line of reasoning.

“Why do you think so?” Scott asked, curious to hear her thoughts.

Ember opened her mouth to respond, but before she could utter a word, a new system notification flashed before their eyes:

You have received a new task! Choose a path to begin the path defense sequence!

White Hell! Description: Each member of your group will be responsible for defending a path! After successfully defending a path, you will reconvene with another member of your group. Together, you will move forward to defend another path until all members are reunited. Once reunited, you may choose which command to use. You have 30 seconds to choose which path to defend. Once you have decided, please stand in front of the chosen path!

The prisoners read through the notification, their brows furrowed with concern and frustration.

“What’s the point of asking us to choose if we were going to descend as a group only to separate us again?” Zara grumbled, unable to hide her displeasure.

“My leader, complaining isn’t going to help now,” Slim sighed as he casually surveyed the available paths. “We should just choose one and get it over with.”

The memory of their last mission, where unintentional dawdling led to their banishment to the frozen wasteland, still lingered in their minds. None of them could say for certain what would have happened if not for Orion’s mysterious ability to repel the cold.

“I understand, but I don’t like it either,” Zara said with resignation, pointing toward the path directly in front of her. “I’ll take that one.”

“I’ll take the one next to you,” Ember declared, her voice steady.

Orion giggled with excitement. “I’ll take the one next to yours. It seems to be calling my name. I’m sure I’m going to have lots of fun,” the mage declared, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

Scott and Slim exchanged a glance, silently deciding between themselves which paths they would defend. Without further delay, the group moved toward their chosen paths, each pausing at the periphery.

As they stood at the threshold, their voices echoed simultaneously within the party communication channel, filled with determination.

“Don’t die!” they declared passionately.

Commencing Transfer!

A sudden buzz echoed within the frozen area, sharp and startling. Before any of the prisoners could fully grasp what was happening, the pathways they had chosen extended forward at an alarming speed. The ground beneath their feet rumbled, and the icy walls on either side of them shot out, slamming together with a force that reverberated through the ground. In an instant, the pathways converged, forming a pentagonal formation that enclosed each member of the hound extermination crew in their own isolated section.

Scott stared at the sturdy walls now separating him from his companions. The thick, icy barriers were impassable, and any attempt to see through them was futile. His breath fogged up in front of him as he involuntarily ran his fingers along the frozen surface, feeling the smooth, unyielding texture beneath his fingertips.

He paused, noticing something odd—once again, he couldn’t feel the biting cold. It was as if the walls themselves absorbed the chill, leaving him in a space where the frost seemed to have no effect on him. Yet, the realization brought no comfort.

With a frown, Scott attempted to reach out to his team via the party communication channel, but there was nothing. The link was severed, leaving him utterly alone.

Defend your path and reunite with your companions! Side Quest: Reach the first check point!

Scott glanced at the notification for a moment, then moved forward with a quiet determination. The path ahead was vast, more than wide enough for seven people to walk side by side, and the high ceilings loomed above him, casting long, shadowy echoes. His thoughts wandered as he walked, the hollow thud of his boots against the icy floor reverberating through the cavernous space. Did giants create this place? he wondered, his eyes tracing the towering walls. The occasional gust of howling wind swept through the pathway, but for the most part, silence reigned supreme.

His mind drifted back to the encounter with the cultivators. A seven-circle mage… Scott pondered; I wonder what level that corresponds to. Could it be as high as level 80? He instinctively shook his head, dismissing the thought. No, it must be higher. He was already at level 73, yet he still couldn’t see Orion or Ember’s stats. Whatever their levels were, they had to be significantly higher than his, he believed.

Cultivators, mages, puppeteers, conductors, and even parasites capable of devouring emotions... The sheer variety of abilities within the tower amazed him. The tower is even crazier than I imagined, Scott thought as he pressed forward, his senses alert for any sign of danger.

Twenty minutes passed in a monotonous trek. The scenery remained unchanging—endless walls of ice, with no signs of life or traps. The pathway stretched on, an unamusing, bland corridor of frozen silence. Scott’s gaze roamed the area, searching for any hint of activity, but there was nothing. His footsteps continued to echo within the hollow chamber, the sound almost mocking in its consistency.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“I wonder if the others have—” his thoughts were abruptly interrupted as a massive icy fist burst out from the wall, reaching for his neck with a speed that defied its size. Scott's eyes flicked to the oncoming threat, and with a calm expression, a blackened portal materialized in front of the voidweaver, swallowing the fist whole before it could reach him. But there was no time to relax—another fist lunged from behind, followed by two more from above and below. In a flurry of motion, Scott manifested multiple portals to the nihilistic zone, each one devouring the icy limbs before they could make contact.

Suddenly, a blinding, pulsating light erupted from deep within the path, forcing Scott to squint against the intense glare. At that moment, he instinctively tilted his head to the side as a massive arrow constructed from pure light whizzed past him, narrowly missing his skull. The walls around him erupted in chaos as more icy fists, arms, and weapons of all kinds manifested, each one eager to crush him. Yet Scott remained unfazed, his attention focused on a new threat.

An elven figure had materialized behind him, bow drawn, and three shimmering arrows nocked, all aimed directly at Scott’s head. The bow itself was constructed from the same dazzling light as the arrows, and the elf’s eyes glowed with a fierce intensity.

“You hid yourself in the arrow earlier, huh,” Scott remarked, a smile playing on his lips. His voice dripped with mockery as he added, “Go on, give me your best shot.”

Without hesitation, the elven figure released the arrows. They flew at the speed of light, arriving instantaneously at Scott’s position. But just as quickly as they appeared, a blackened portal manifested on Scott’s skin, devouring all three arrows before they could strike. The elf’s eyes widened in shock as its form began to dissipate, unraveling into particles of light.

“It’s too early to be surprised,” Scott said, his smile widening. “I’ll be coming for you soon. Wait for me.” With those words, the elven figure vanished completely, leaving behind only the echo of Scott’s threat.

The icy constructs around him surged forward, desperate to overwhelm him with sheer numbers. But they met the same fate as the arrows—devoured by the endless maw of the nihilistic zone. Scott didn’t even flinch as he turned back toward the path ahead, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

With a sudden burst of speed, he exploded forward, the ground beneath him shattering as he moved. The walls trembled, and the ice responded with fury. Fists, feet, spikes, lances, skewers—every imaginable weapon made of ice erupted from the surrounding walls, all intent on halting the voidweaver’s advance. But Scott paid them no mind. His blackened portals erased their existence as quickly as they appeared, leaving nothing to impede his progress.

The further Scott traveled, the more his excitement grew. Flickering lights glimmered in the distance, signaling that he was nearing the end of the pathway. Suddenly, the path about a hundred feet away from him crumbled, revealing a bottomless abyss that stretched all the way to the exit.

Scott’s laughter echoed through the corridor as his speed increased. In a flash, he reached the broken section of the pathway, his pace never faltering. The voidweaver ran even faster, his feet pressing against nonexistent ground as he charged straight through the exit. He arrived in a dome-shaped area, illuminated by dazzling ice crystals embedded within the walls. Like the entrance to White Hell, multiple pathways branched out from this chamber, each one sealed behind towering ice walls.

However, Scott’s attention was drawn to a three-man party standing a few feet away, near the third pathway to his right. The party consisted of three elven females, all of whom stared at the prisoner with visible apprehension. One held a long silver bow, nocked with three shimmering arrows made of light. Another crouched low to the ground, her hands seemingly buried in the ice, while the third bled profusely from her left eye, which was covered by a hastily applied eyepatch.

Level 45 Hunter, Level 46 Materialist, and Level 45 Illusionist, Scott thought to himself, smiling at the unique combination. But they’re so damn weak. What are they even doing here?

Scott knew that a champion’s level didn’t always correlate with their actual power. A higher-level champion wasn’t necessarily stronger, especially if they were in a support role or had a specialized skill set. A level 50 bard wouldn’t necessarily be able to defeat a level 30 fighter in direct combat, and some champions possessed unique or innate abilities that defied conventional classification.

The elven party held their ground, but their defiant stares couldn’t completely mask the fear lurking in their eyes. Scott took a step forward, and the hunter immediately loosed her arrows while the materialist attempted to bind him with the ice. Both actions, however, proved futile as the attacks were effortlessly neutralized by the nihilistic portals.

“You don’t learn, do you?” Scott said, halting his advance. His gaze wandered away from the elves, surveying the area in greater detail before focusing on the trio once more. “I have a question for you. I hope you’ll answer me,” he declared.

“Or what?” the hunter retorted, her voice sharp and unyielding. “You might be stronger than us, but we don’t fear that,” she continued, a cruel smile spreading across her lips. “We’ll simply revive as many times as you kill us, and eventually, we’ll be the ones who kill you.” She nocked another arrow, her confidence seemingly unwavering.

Scott’s smile deepened as he pieced together their situation. No wonder their levels are so low. They’re part of the Ranking Games. To them, I’m basically some kind of boss monster they need to defeat.

The hunter fired another shot, but it met the same fate as her previous arrows, swallowed by the nihilistic portals before it could even approach its target. Scott returned his focus to the group. “So, which layer are you in the Ranking Games?”

“What?” the materialist answered, her hands still entrenched in the icy floor.

“The Ranking Games,” Scott repeated. “Isn’t that why you’re able to revive over and over?” he questioned; his curiosity piqued.

The confusion on the elves’ faces was evident. None of them seemed to recognize the term, and Scott quickly realized that they genuinely had no idea what he was talking about.

“I have no idea what you mean by Ranking Games, and how we can revive is none of your business,” the hunter said brashly. “Just know that it’s true. We’ll defeat you, no matter how long it takes, and no matter how many times we must die.”

Scott’s confusion mirrored theirs. Are they lying? he wondered but quickly discarded the thought. The elves had no reason to lie about something so trivial. Orion’s theory might be right after all. There might be more than one way to climb the tower, Scott mused, his brows furrowing.

The fact that the missions had taken place on two different planets only reinforced his belief that the trials depended on where someone began their ascent. How different beings seemed to inhabit different planets remained a mystery, one of the many unknowns surrounding the Tower of Champions.

“I’ll make you a deal instead,” the hunter suddenly declared, snapping Scott out of his thoughts.

“Oh?” Scott asked, his amusement evident. “What do you have in mind?”

“Fight with us, and we’ll reward you with three core elemental shards,” the hunter proposed, her voice firm.

Scott chuckled softly, shaking his head. “No offense, but I’m not interested. I’m supposed to—”

The invader is arriving! Defend your path!

Scott's frown deepened as he read the system notification. He noticed that the elves had similar notifications in front of them, their anxious expressions mirroring his own confusion. Aren’t they the people I’m supposed to eliminate? he pondered, his thoughts wandering.

At that moment, ominous thuds echoed throughout the area, drawing everyone's attention to the left. Cracks formed in one of the blocked pathways, widening with each passing second. The elves tensed, their anxiety palpable. In contrast, Scott's interest was piqued as he eagerly anticipated whatever—or whoever—was about to emerge.

The tension in the air reached its peak as a loud bang resounded, and the ice wall crumbled into pieces. The echoes of rattling chains filled the chamber, announcing the arrival of a humanoid figure with scaly, metallic skin. The newcomer was clad in blackened armor, with crimson chains wrapping around their exposed arms, binding them from wrist to elbow. The chains were attached to silvery metallic balls, which shifted between liquid and solid states with an eerie fluidity.

The humanoid's beady eyes scanned the room, dismissively glancing over the elves before locking onto Scott. The humanoid’s eyes widened in recognition; shock evident in them. “It’s you!” the warrior declared, cackling as he pointed his right hand toward Scott.

Scott's frown deepened. He didn’t recognize the figure at all. “Do I know you?” he asked, his voice cold and steady.

The humanoid shook his head, a twisted grin spreading across his face. “No, but I remember you. You’re the man who caused the chaos in Enchanted Heights. I really liked that place. You shouldn’t have done that,” he growled, taking a menacing step forward. “You ran away before I had the chance to find you. You won’t be so lucky today.”

A blackened portal opened at Scott’s feet, and the war hammer of the Mad God forced itself out. Scott grasped the handle of the ominous weapon, the air around him growing heavy with the weight of its power. “Isn’t it too early to start celebrating?” he taunted, his gaze unyielding.

The humanoid's smile widened, revealing jagged, razor-sharp teeth. “Not at all. Fret not, I will make your death as swift as possible,” he paused, his smile turning maniacal. “But it will be extremely painful.”

With a wave of his hand, the humanoid declared, “I suspend all laws within my domain!”