They climbed floor after floor, and with each one, the guardians changed.

Not all wore the faces of orcs. Some prowled on four legs, lupine constructs with stone-forged hides and eyes that gleamed with mana. Others rose like mountains—pretty huge golems shaped from obsidian and gravel, their steps causing the marble beneath to tremble. Once, they entered a room and faced three tall figures with pointed ears and slender blades—creatures that looked like elves, or at least what was left of them, their features preserved in cold metal and ancient enchantments.

Khorvash didn’t hesitate. None of them did. Because every floor felt like a test. The Duneborns treated it like their divine judgement, smashing their way through fire and steel with reverence in their eyes and blood on their fists. In a way, it was a trial—just not for them.

Kai kept to the rear, being observant throughout. The more he saw, the more he pieced together things. How these weren’t random enemies. These could be opponents Valkyrie herself fought back in the day and had placed them here in the forms of golems to test her son. Some of the murals on the walls he saw confirmed that.

That gave him another question, had she made them herself? Or a golem maker had been involved. He hadn’t found anything in the information about her that hinted at a love for golems. But the arrangement, the escalation, the symbolism—it all spoke of intent. And the orcs, blinded by devotion, trudged on through the very halls meant for someone else.

Not that they cared.

Big Nose had already lost an arm, the flesh above the elbow a seared stump. Bald Head and Stinky bled from half a dozen cuts, their steps dragging, their breath ragged. Only Khorvash still walked with fire in his stride, the infernal gauntlets dim now, but pulsing with promise.

Kai’s role remained the same—hands on seals, eyes on the gate, mind running calculations. He never lifted a blade. Never cast a spell.

But he watched. Every swing. Every mistake. Every flash of mana from the warlord’s rings. And most importantly—every glance Khorvash threw at his wounded subordinates. They had a plan—Kai knew it very well. They were thinking of finishing them off once they reached the top.

And Kai was waiting for just that.

Another gate loomed ahead. A set of seals waited beneath his fingers.

Kai placed his palm on the center and felt the familiar pull of the enchantment, his mana sinking into the grooves like water into stone.

The gears behind the wall began to shift.

They had climbed too many floors to count, but Kai could feel it—each step brought them closer. The mana in the air was thicker now, almost syrupy, and the pressure on his skin confirmed his suspicion: they were nearing the top.

As the gate groaned open, stone grinding against stone, he turned to the group and said, “The next level should bring us to the control room.”

“Explain.” Khorvash narrowed his eyes, his heavy breath rasping through grit-stained teeth.

“The control room is the heart of the tower. The place where every mechanism, enchantment, and defense is regulated. It’s also where the tower’s creator likely stored the greatest resources.”

“So that’s where Belkhor left his final gift for us.” Khorvash grunted.

“Yes. Likely more than just that. You’ll see.”

That seemed to satisfy him. The warlord turned, barking a command, and the party began moving again—Khorvash in front, the others falling into the same formation. But this time, Kai hung back just slightly, his fingers brushing his waist as he gave a few subtle hand signals. Gareth blinked once. Claire gave a tight side nod. And Adil’s hand shifted nearer to the hilt at his side. They had all understood.

The trap had to be sprung soon.

The corridors here were different—short, narrow, and unnervingly quiet. No more twisting labyrinths or guardian ambushes. Just a straight path that ended in a circular platform embedded in the marble floor. There were seals running along its edges.

Three solid walls closed in around them, and the fourth—where an exit should’ve been—was simply blank.

Khorvash slowed, his eyes narrowing at the formation.

“What’s that thing?” Big Nose squinted at the glowing platform.

“It’s called a lift. It’ll take us to the top.” Kai didn’t look at him as he stepped forward.

He was the first to step on. The others followed, cramming onto the platform. It wasn’t spacious—especially with the bulk of the orcs—but it held. As soon as the last foot touched the edge, the platform shuddered once and began to rise.

The three orcs instinctively grabbed the railing, their bodies tensing from the unfamiliar sensation. Only Khorvash stood firm, arms crossed, eyes fixed upward.

No one spoke as the lift ascended. And the humming grew softer. The silence kept growing till the lift stopped.

Kai took one step out and froze as his breath caught in his throat.

The room before them could only be described as a palace in the sky. The floor sparkled, covered in a mosaic of embedded crystals that pulsed faintly with mana. Graceful statues were lined in the edges of the hall—Mages with prepared spells, beastkin in fierce stances, even a dragon mid-roar—each carved with breathtaking detail, as if they might move at any moment. A small garden of silver-leaved trees and glowing flowers breathed life into the center of the room, dew sparkling in the crystal light.

Above them, the ceiling was pure glass.

Through it, the open sky bled orange and violet, the setting sun illuminating the chamber. Mana pooled in the air, thick and tangible, denser than anywhere he had ever felt. It clung to his skin, soaked into his lungs. Even without visible crystals, he knew—this entire space was saturated. Either an aethum vein ran beneath the floor, or the room itself was built from refined crystal.

But none of that held his attention for long.

Because in the very center of the hall, raised slightly on a circular platform, stood a pedestal. And atop it: a crystal bowl, glowing faintly.

Kai’s chest tightened. That was it. The conduit. The activation point.

If Valkyrie had left behind a tower spirit, this was how to call it forth.

He stepped toward it without a word.

Behind him, Khorvash’s voice rumbled, “So… this is the end?”

Kai turned to face him.

There was no door left to open. No guardian left to fight. Only this.

“Yes,” he said. “This is the heart of the tower. Now it’s just a matter of taking control.”

He didn’t say who would take control. But that would be settled soon enough.

Khorvash’s eyes lingered on the glowing bowl for a beat longer before shifting to Kai.

“You have done well so far, human,” he said, voice almost reverent. “I believe now you are a follower of Belkhor. I truly hope the gods are kind enough to grant you rebirth… as a true orc in your next life.”

There was no warning. No signal.

The moment the last word left his mouth, the three orcs behind him moved like lightning—drawing weapons as they lunged toward Kai’s companions.

But the party was already ready.

Kael ducked under Big Nose’s axe swing and met him with a flash of his dagger. Gareth slammed into Stinky with a charge, pushing him back with a growl. Adil didn’t hesitate—he roared and met Bald Head head-on, his sword already out.

Kai didn’t spare them a glance. His eyes were locked on Khorvash.

“I guess it’s time to stop pretending,” he said calmly.

“So you did expect this.” Khorvash’s lip curled into a fang-filled smirk.

“Can never trust an orc.” Kai’s hands lifted, spell blazing to life

Flames burst forward, coiling with slicing gales of wind—ripping through the air toward Khorvash like a vengeful serpent. The overlord’s gauntlet lifted, shielding him from the brunt of the spell, but behind the wall of fire, his eyes widened.

“You used me to get here,” he growled, voice rough with fury. “You’re no follower of Belkhor.”

“No,” Kai said, eyes glowing with heat. “I’m not. This tower is my inheritance. It has nothing to do with you.”

Khorvash let out a snarl that shook the walls.

“Belkhor would never give anything to a human!”

His gauntlets erupted in flames—black and red, the fire of infernos—and he charged like a beast unchained.

Kai, too, shifted his stance, mana thrumming at his fingertips. The air around him surged in a vortex of elements. He dodged left, barely avoiding a flaming strike that shattered the crystal floor behind him, and launched a volley of spells—[Flame Arrows] laced with [Ice needles] carried by wind.

Khorvash tanked through the storm, swatting spells aside with brute force and armour protection. Each blow of his gauntlet lit the room in a hellish glow, forcing Kai to stay in constant motion.

Still, Kai smiled as his third-circle spell [Wind Rush] slammed into Khorvash’s shoulder and drew blood.

Khorvash grunted, pain flashing across his face before it twisted into fury. He roared and slammed his gauntlets into the crystal floor. Fire exploded outward like a shockwave, scorching everything in its path. Kai raised an [Ice Barrier] just in time—the wall hissed and cracked as the flame collided, mist bursting out and shrouding the battlefield in steam.

But then the air shifted. The pressure dropped. A hum of authority thrummed through the space, deep and thunderous.

Kai’s eyes widened. A presence far beyond mortal will finally entered the battle. The Storm Sovereign descended.

Not walked, not flew—descended, Its form manifesting from mana itself, towering and formless, composed of rolling clouds and crackling arcs of lightning. Its gaze locked on Khorvash.

The orc’s body tensed. "W-What—?"

The words didn’t finish.

Bolts of lightning screamed down from above, slamming into Khorvash with divine fury. A shield flared to life around him—an artifact’s last defense—but each strike fractured it, bit by bit. The shield began to crack like glass.

Kai didn’t waste the opportunity. He drew deep from his heart—mana surging, raw and violent—and cast forward.

From the swirling blaze in front of him, three [Infernal Titans] emerged—each one molded from crimson flame, humanoid in shape but carrying elemental rage. With a synchronized roar, which Kai totally didn’t project but took full credit for, they rushed Khorvash.

The first punch shattered the orc’s failing shield. The second sent him crashing into the marble floor like a sack of screaming muscle.

The floor trembled. Statues shook. Somewhere in the tower, a vase fell over. But Kai knew he wasn’t done—he was nowhere close to being done.

He spun his arm with flair, snatched up a crystal statue with a wind spell, and hurled it towards the Overlord. Khorvash blocked with his gauntlets—impressively—but still skidded back across the floor like a curling stone on fire.

“You dare!” He roared, eyes flaring wide, flames now licking up his body aggressively. “You dare strike the Champion of Belkhor?! You will all die here! No trick, no spell, no storm can stop me!”

His gauntlets erupted in flame, fire spilling like molten lava across his limbs, torso, legs—until he stood in full-blown infernal armor, forged from sheer heat and righteous ego. The flames didn’t flicker.

They roared. They looked like they had feelings.

He charged.

Kai’s [Infernal Titans] met him head-on—fire against fire. The fists collided, releasing shockwaves that rattled the very foundation of the tower. Lightning still rained from above, the Storm Sovereign’s wrath unrelenting, but Khorvash didn’t falter. His skin was seared. His mouth leaked blood. Yet he moved as if he didn’t even know what pain was.

Did he not feel pain? Kai didn’t know the answer and he didn’t get the time to wait around.

Khorvash ripped one of the flaming titans apart, punching through its chest and watching the flames burst into ash. Another he sent crashing into the wall, splintering it with the impact. Despite Kai pushing mana towards the third; it swiped at him—but Khorvash twisted beneath the strike, rolled through it, and locked eyes with Kai.

"You—" he growled, voice raw and bestial, "I will kill you!"

He lunged.

Kai’s body flared with wind, threads of magic wrapping around his limbs. He darted sideways just as a blast of searing heat tore through the space he'd been standing in—one of the toe rings pulsing with smoky red light.

But Khorvash was already there. A fist surged forward.

Kai raised a [Wind Barrier]—not strong enough to stop it, just enough to deflect and buy him a heartbeat. As the gauntlet slammed through, Kai conjured a volley of [Freezing Floes], point-blank.

They struck Khorvash’s chest. And melted instantly.

Steam exploded from the impact zone, hissing in the air as Khorvash sneered, “You can't kill me, human.”

“We’ll see.”

Behind Khorvash, the last fiery titan surged in.

It grabbed the orc’s shoulders, lifted him clean off the ground, and hurled him into the wall, stone shattering under the impact. Before Khorvash could rise, the giant moved to end it—its fist crashing downward.

Khorvash let out a primal scream, bracing with both gauntlets as another of his rings blazed. A blast of force and flame exploded from his body.

The giant’s chest caved in. Fire consumed its limbs. And just like that, the last construct fell.

Kai stood still, heart pounding, mist swirling at his feet, the scent of char and ozone heavy in the air.

The orc rose from the wreckage, armor cracked, blood pouring down his chin—yet somehow, he grinned.

“Try again, little Mage.”

There were cracks webbing across his infernal armor, eyes blazing with an unholy fire. His gaze swept to the far side of the room, where Gareth, Adil, and Kael were locked in brutal combat with the other three orcs. Blood pooled beneath them, and two of the orcs already looked one breath away from death.

Grinding his teeth, Khorvash turned his fury back to Kai. His voice trembled—not with fear, but something darker, wilder.

“This is no failure. This is Belkhor’s trial. His test.” He raised a hand to the heavens—or the glass ceiling above them—and continued, voice deepening, roughening, “The supreme god has granted me a path. All I must do is crush you… and I shall ascend. Become his true champion. His crusader.”

Kai's brows drew together. “This is not Belkhor’s temple. You’re deluded. This tower belonged to a human Mage named Valkyrie.”

“You know nothing!” Khorvash roared. “If this place weren’t built for him, would it have gifted me such strength?!”

Before Kai could respond, he pulled something from his belt. A small vial—filled with silver liquid that shimmered like starlight under the glow of the crystal ceiling.

Kai’s eyes widened in recognition. “Don't drink it!”

He unleashed a volley of third-circle spells, [Flame Arrow] and [Infernal Chains], but a translucent barrier burst from Khorvash’s chest, absorbing the impact as if it were nothing. The orc uncorked the vial, snarling.

And drank. Every drop.

His eyes rolled back. His mouth twisted into a bloodied smile.

“Power, human. I drank power. And now—” he dropped the empty vial, the glass shattering like a fragile bone, “you die.”

Mana exploded from his body like a wave crashing into the world.

“What the fuck was that?” Gareth yelled from behind, but the answer shifted in front of everyone.

The floor cracked beneath Khorvash—thin spiderwebs of stone splintering outward as he swelled in size. Muscle piled onto muscle, grotesque and unnatural, stretching his armor until it tore away in shrieking scraps of metal. His tusks pushed past his jaw like curved daggers, and each breath became thicker with mana than the last.

The wounds that once littered his body—deep gouges, torn and burnt flesh—sizzled with silver light, sealing shut in pulsing flashes, as if time itself refused to let him die.

Five seconds. That’s all it took.

And yet, to Kai, it stretched like a nightmare. A slow, deliberate horror.

You’ve got to be joking, he thought, eyes locked on the shifting beast before him. At this point, he was almost tired of his enemies transforming, but he knew, he just knew that there were always surprises.

He raised a hand—light flared as his spell surged forward.

The flaming arrow slammed against the barrier and fizzled out. He shot out another, but nothing happened.

Each cast—fire, wind, ice—was eaten alive by the same glowing wall that shimmered around Khorvash like a cocoon. The mana bounced back, dissipating in the air before it even reached the Overlord’s skin.

And still he grew.

His final vein bulged beneath his neck, blackened and glowing, pulsing once—twice—before settling into eerie stillness.

Only then did the shield vanish. And Khorvash opened his eyes and screamed.

And in a single step that cracked the marble beneath his feet, he charged right up.

Kai barely had time to conjure a wind barrier before the second round began.

***

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