The mercenaries had been tracking Tyler’s group for days, navigating the treacherous labyrinth of the tower’s multiple first floors. Each day brought new challenges and hardships. The team, led by Rolf, was a mix of rugged individuals each with their own quirks and skills.
Rolf was their leader, a grizzled veteran with a stern demeanour and a scar running across his cheek. His experience in countless skirmishes made him a natural choice for heading the mission. He was supported by Zara, a sharp-eyed scout with a lithe build and quick reflexes. Zara’s ability to move silently and her keen sense of direction was invaluable in the twisted passages of the tower.
Then there was Kade, a brawny warrior with a booming voice and a jovial personality, who despite his cheerful demeanour, was deadly with his two-handed axe. Marek, the team's strategist, was a wiry man with sharp features and a knack for devising clever tactics, often providing the group with the edge they needed. Lastly, there was Elena, the youngest and newest member, a quiet and observant woman with a talent for healing magic, which had kept the team going through the tower’s many trials.
Their journey was fraught with peril. On several occasions, they were forced to retreat hastily, barely escaping with their lives from the tower's relentless creatures. They had to go in and out of the tower multiple times, relying on summons from outside to regroup and strategize. The enchanted compass, a rare artefact that could trace the slave brands on their shoulders, was their only guide, but its power was limited, requiring them to be within a certain proximity to their targets. This meant days of arduous travel and close calls, as they scoured the various versions of the first floor.
Frustration grew within the group. Kade often vented his annoyance, smashing his axe into the ground in exasperation. “We’re not adventurers,” he would grumble. “We’re soldiers, not used to this damned maze.”
Marek, always the voice of reason, would counter, “We’ve come too far to turn back now. The locator is picking up stronger signals. We’re close, I can feel it.”
Zara’s patience wore thin as well. Her usually calm demeanour gave way to snappy remarks. “If this compass fails us one more time, I swear I’ll smash it to pieces.”
Rolf kept the group together with his unyielding determination. “We have a mission. We see it through,” he would say, his tone brooking no argument.
Finally, after days of relentless pursuit, near misses with traps, and exhausting battles with the tower’s inhabitants, the locator gave a strong, unwavering signal. They had finally located the group’s hidden base. From a safe distance, they observed the group’s activities, noting their strengths and weaknesses. Tyler and his friends were formidable, their setup impressive. The mercenaries watched as they mined mithril, fought off scorpions, and went about their daily routines.
Rolf gathered his team for a final briefing. “Remember, the dungeon’s rules are strict. We need to be smart about this. Elena, you stay behind until we’ve secured the group. Once we give the signal, you can come in.”
The storm provided perfect cover for their approach. The howling wind and swirling sand masked their movements as they crept closer to the base. Rolf’s heart pounded with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. They couldn’t afford any mistakes.
Inside the base, Tyler and Livia were sitting by the fire, discussing Livia’s past. The warmth of the flames and the comforting glow provided a stark contrast to the chaos outside. The fire crackled softly, its light casting dancing shadows on the walls, adding a sense of calm and security to their secluded hideout. Livia had just finished recounting the harrowing events of her childhood, her eyes reflecting both pain and resilience.
Darius was in the forge, the rhythmic clang of metal on metal drowning out the sounds of the storm. His muscles rippled with each swing of the hammer, sweat glistening on his brow as he focused on crafting weapons from the precious mithril they had mined. The intense heat from the forge added to the warmth inside the base, creating a stark contrast to the harsh, cold wind outside.
Elric and Markus were supposedly asleep in their bunks, but in reality, Markus was outside, controlled by the shadow within him. The creature’s influence over Markus made his movements mechanical and precise, as if he were a puppet on strings.
In Markus’s mind, the shadow creature was experiencing vivid delusions. The watcher manipulated these delusions to control his actions. In his mind, the creature believed it was somewhere else, performing entirely different tasks that coincidentally aligned with the watcher’s commands. He saw visions of a grand hall filled with ancient runes and felt an urgent need to inscribe something critical to his survival. These visions translated into his physical actions as he approached the runes protecting the base.
Markus, under the shadow’s control, scratched out a small part of the rune, weakening the shield significantly. The storm raged around him, but he remained focused, his delusional state convincing him that he was engraving life-saving runes rather than sabotaging his own comrades. His eyes, now dark and void of their usual spark, gave no hint of the internal struggle.
As Markus finished his task and headed back inside, Tyler noticed him returning and felt a pang of unease. Markus’s eyes were dark, empty pools, devoid of their usual light. Tyler’s instincts screamed that something was wrong.
“Markus, are you okay?” Tyler asked, rising to his feet, concern evident in his voice.
Markus’s response was a mere grunt, his expression blank and unrecognizing. Before Tyler could press further, the door burst open, and the mercenaries stormed in. The chaos was sudden and overwhelming. Rolf, the leader, carried a large spherical device that immediately began to draw in Tyler’s mana. The device hummed with menacing energy, and Tyler’s body felt heavy, his strength draining rapidly.
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“Livia, get back!” Tyler shouted, trying to muster what little energy he had left.
Livia sprang to her feet, reaching for her weapon, but the mercenaries were well-prepared. Zara, the sharp-eyed scout, and Kade, the brawny warrior, moved with swift precision, disarming Livia and subduing her before she could react. The remaining mercenaries, Marek and Elena, quickly moved to secure the rest of the base.
“Markus! Help us!” Livia cried out, but Markus stood still, his eyes still those unsettling dark pools.
In the forge, Darius was completely oblivious to the commotion. The noise of his hammer striking metal and the storm outside drowned out any sounds of struggle. It wasn’t until a mercenary grabbed him from behind, twisting his arm painfully, that he realized something was wrong.
“What the—” Elric started, but a blade at his throat silenced him, and he was dragged into the common room where the others were being restrained.
He was yanked from his bunk, disoriented and groggy. He barely had time to register what was happening before he was thrown into the circle with the others, his hands bound tightly. The mercenaries herded Tyler, Livia, Darius, and Elric into the common room, their hands bound and their faces filled with a mix of anger and confusion. Markus, still under the shadow’s influence, stood motionless, his eyes reflecting the dark void within him.
Rolf, the mercenary leader, surveyed the captured group, his expression unreadable. He was a tall man with a grizzled beard and a scar running down his left cheek, a testament to a life of battles and hardships. “We finally found you,” he said, his voice calm but with an underlying edge of exhaustion and determination.
Tyler noticed Darius trying to get his attention. Then he noticed the sliver of a blade sticking out under Darius’s smithing apron, made from some scorpion chitin scales. Hoping to buy some time, Tyler made a show of struggling against his restraints as he fell next to Darius, moving the unfinished blade into his inventory as he asked, “What do you want? Why are you here?”
Rolf gestured to the spherical device. “We’re here to take you back. You’ve pissed off some very powerful people. The city is in ruins out there and they all think you had something to do with it.”
Tyler's eyes widened. "Why?"
Rolf continued, “Some experts tracked the patriarch from the 50th floor to the carriage you were riding in. The patriarch’s minions destroyed half the city before they could be subdued. Do you realize how well Lord Varon is paying us to find you? Not like this was easy. Fucking tower climbing. This tower is a nightmare really. We’ve been searching for days. The locator was barely working, in and out we went, trying to find some sign of your brands. We almost gave up, you know.”
Rolf walked around the group slowly as he added, “We’re not seasoned climbers or adventurers. This place has tested us beyond our limits. We’re just mercenaries trying to make some money.”
Tyler, trying to buy time and understand more about their captors, asked, "Why? Why send mercenaries with zero climbing experience?"
Rolf stopped and looked at Tyler. “Because experienced adventurers would be teleported to the last floor they conquered. The tower has a way of knowing. If a seasoned climber entered here, they’d be sent to the floor above the last boss they defeated. We were the only option Varon had left.”
Tyler’s mind raced, trying to understand their predicament. “You’re the ones controlling Markus somehow…”
Kade, the brawny warrior, looked confused. He was a hulking figure with a bald head and a stern expression, his muscles bulging under his armour. “Who’s Markus?”
Elena, the healer, glanced nervously at the group. She was a petite woman with sharp eyes and a constant look of concern, her hands always ready to heal or harm. “We need to get out of here. This place gets more dangerous the longer we stay. The tower’s rules are strict. We have to be careful.”
Marek nodded. The strategist of the group, Marek was a wiry man with a calculating gaze and a perpetual smirk. “The tower gets exponentially harder the more people group up, ten being the limit. You exceed ten and you’re basically dead. We had to make sure there were only five of you in the base before we moved in.”
Tyler, feigning more struggle, asked, “So, what’s your plan?”
Rolf looked to Zara. Zara, a lithe woman with striking features and a no-nonsense demeanour, was their scout and second-in-command. “Go find Elena. It’s time to call in the summons. I’ve had enough of this nightmare.”
Zara nodded and went to fetch their final team member. Tyler, still struggling, asked, “What happens if there are more than ten of us?”
Kade replied, “No one really knows, since no one has ever survived exceeding the limit on the first five floors. Don’t worry, we made sure to keep our numbers under control.”
Tyler’s heart pounded as he realized the severity of their situation. He thought quickly, trying to find a way to exploit the situation. The device the mercenaries brought in was only partially effective, sealing around half of his mana. Tyler realized his mana had doubled since they first entered the tower, giving him some hope. As Zara returned with Elena in tow, Tyler noticed Markus standing eerily still. Before anyone could react, a powerful surge of magic filled the room. The air shimmered, and a blinding light enveloped them all. In an instant, they were no longer in their base but in a dark, foreboding chamber. The oppressive atmosphere weighed heavily on them as they realized they had been teleported.
The mercenaries, now just as trapped as Tyler and his friends, exchanged panicked glances. The towering figure of the boss loomed before them, a monstrous presence that exuded power and malevolence. The chamber echoed with the sound of their collective breaths, their fate now intertwined in this deadly confrontation.
The group found themselves in a massive, dimly lit chamber. Heavy iron bars surrounded them, forming a cage. Outside the cage stood Thal’Kor, the Sentinel of Equilibrium, his eyes gleaming with malevolent curiosity.
Thal’Kor was a towering figure, covered in dark, crystalline armor that shimmered in the low light. His eyes, glowing with an eerie blue light, scanned the group with a mixture of amusement and disdain. His voice echoed through the chamber, deep and resonant. “Welcome, challengers. You have violated the balance. Now, face the Sentinel of Equilibrium and prove your worth.”
The mercenaries and Tyler’s team stood frozen, their fate now in the hands of the formidable boss. Tyler’s mind raced as he realized what had happened. Markus, or rather the shadow within him, had counted as the eleventh member, triggering the teleportation. Elric’s face paled as he pieced together the same realization.
“We were eleven,” Elric whispered, his eyes wide with fear. “It was the shadow in Markus. We never stood a chance.”