CHAPTER 134: CH 134: THE WARNING- PART 3

Fenrir didn’t break his stride, but his eyes flicked sideways for a moment, narrowing slightly as he caught the scammer’s words.

"Executioner of the ninth floor,"

He murmured.

The scammer, noticing this subtle reaction, jumped on the opportunity like a starving wolf finding scraps. He darted a few steps closer, his voice a little too eager.

"Yeah, yeah, I can see you’re interested now."

He said, trying to sound calm but visibly sweating.

"See, unlike the floors you’ve been through so far, the ninth isn’t just another trial. It’s a prison. They stuck a real monster down there. Not a beast or a summoned creature. A real, living nightmare."

Fenrir said nothing, but his silence was different this time—less dismissive, more thoughtful.

The scammer continued, encouraged.

"The higher floors, they collared it—her, I think—but even then, they couldn’t kill her. Couldn’t control her completely either. So they just... dumped her on floor nine, gave her the right to execute anyone who dares to cross without permission."

He gave a low chuckle, trying to play it casual.

"Tower even penalized her, from what I hear. Like, the system limits her powers so she doesn’t blow up the whole floor, but even with the restrictions? She’s unstoppable. No one who tries to brute-force their way through that floor has ever made it."

Fenrir finally stopped walking. The motion was subtle but sharp, like a blade snapping into place.

"...What’s the name?"

He asked quietly, his tone unreadable.

The scammer blinked.

"Huh?"

"The name of the executioner. Do you know it?"

Fenrir said.

A flicker of nervousness crossed the scammer’s face. He hesitated and scratched the back of his neck.

"Ah, well, y’know, people don’t really use her name. She’s just called ’The Annihilator’ these days. That’s what the rumors say."

Fenrir didn’t press him. He merely looked forward again and began to walk once more, uncaring.

The scammer frowned, confused. Why wasn’t he demanding more?

"Wait—hey—aren’t you gonna ask me for more details? I mean, that’s important information! Don’t you wanna know if she has a weakness or something?!"

But Fenrir just kept walking, unmoved, as if none of it mattered.

The scammer panicked. He grabbed Fenrir’s arm.

"Okay, okay! I did hear something! One time—I swear—I heard guards call her something. Something weird. They called her... ’Penelopy of the Fire Forest.’"

Fenrir stopped again. This time, he turned his head just enough for the scammer to see his expression.

A slow, sharp smile had spread across Fenrir’s face.

"Penelopy..."

He said, almost like a whisper, tasting the name.

The scammer tilted his head.

"You know her?"

Fenrir didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. His expression—calm, amused, and just a little too pleased—told the scammer everything he needed to know.

The scammer paled.

"Wait, are you—are you happy to hear that? You’re not scared?"

Fenrir finally looked at him fully, those icy eyes like the still before a storm.

"Scared? Not even a little. Thanks for the warning, though."

He repeated, his smile widening.

Then, without another word, he turned and resumed walking.

His steps now had a different weight to them—less like someone moving forward and more like someone returning to a long-delayed reunion.

The scammer stood frozen for a moment, mouth slightly open.

"You—you’re insane. You’re actually going to walk right into the monster’s cage."

He muttered under his breath.

He clenched his fists, frustrated.

"Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you."

With a final glare at Fenrir’s back, the scammer turned around and began trudging back toward the market, muttering curses under his breath.

"Dead man walking, that’s what he is. Can’t even help someone when they’ve already decided how they want to die."

But despite his words, a nervous chill followed him long after he left Fenrir behind.

Fenrir walked silently through the narrow canyon leading toward the exit of the seventh floor, his eyes scanning the flickering light on the map projected by his system.

He wasn’t in a hurry. Instead, his pace was steady, thoughtful—more contemplative than cautious.

Penelopy of the Fire Forest.

The name echoed in his mind like a song from a half-remembered past. She hadn’t been a commanding officer or a trusted lieutenant.

In fact, among his old subordinates, she barely stood out in terms of rank. She was nothing more than a mid-tier soldier, one of many who followed orders and fought when told.

But Penelopy... she was different.

She never bowed easily.

Always the first to challenge his commanders, never afraid to speak her mind, and reckless enough to question authority even when she didn’t have the strength to back it up.

That fiery nature—both literal and metaphorical—had made her impossible to forget.

There had been something wild about her, something untamed and unpredictable, like the forest fires that used to rage across the outer ring of their old territories.

"She wasn’t strong, but she was loud."

Fenrir muttered to himself.

That was why her name had stuck with him. Not because of power, but because of presence. He hadn’t seen her since the collapse of their unit.

Most of his former soldiers had vanished, killed, imprisoned, or worse. He never gave them a second thought.

Penelopy had been one of the many... and yet, now, she stood as the so-called "Annihilator" of the ninth floor.

"A collar and a prison. Did you finally explode, or are you still burning just slow enough to stay useful?"

He said with a faint snort.

He tilted his head slightly, gazing at the map again. Two exits were listed—one labeled Official Exit, brightly marked and surrounded by towers and checkpoints.

The other was dim, marked simply as Exit.

He didn’t need to think twice.

Fenrir turned toward the abandoned path.

There was no need to ask what lay beyond it. A forgotten road, an ignored gate, and a monster waiting in the dark.

He could already feel the heat beginning to rise in the air, faint embers drifting from somewhere far off like the breath of an old dragon.

This route didn’t promise safety or comfort—it promised conflict. A confrontation.

And perhaps... answers.

He rolled his shoulders and stretched his arms with a lazy groan, cracking his neck.

"Tch. Looks like this’ll be a tough one."

Still, the corner of his mouth twitched upward. There was something in him—something old and cold—that relished the idea.

Far below, on the first floor of the tower, the mood was vastly different.

King Gorgon stood at the edge of the cliff that overlooked the bustling settlement that had bloomed under his quiet protection.

He was massive, armored in hardened scales, his long spear resting against one shoulder.

The humans who had helped him manage the chaotic influx of newcomers now stood by his side.

"I suppose this is farewell, then?"

He rumbled, his voice deep enough to shake pebbles loose.

Kevin, the young man with a slightly too-confident grin, adjusted the straps of his travel bag and nodded.

"Yeah. We got what we needed here. The supplies, the readings... Now we’re heading up."

Gorgon turned slightly to face him, his reptilian eyes narrowing.

"Do you know what waits above?"

"Not really. But we’re not here for sightseeing. My boss sent me to find someone. If I come back empty-handed..."

Kevin admitted.

He gave a dry laugh and tapped his neck meaningfully.

"Well, I’d prefer to keep my head where it is."

The giant king let out a slow exhale, the wind from his breath rustling nearby trees.

"You’re brave. Or foolish."

"Both."

Kevin said easily.

Gorgon lowered his gaze.

"Then listen well. The Tower’s mercy ends here. The further you climb, the less reason you’ll find. Some floors are ruled by strength. Others by politics, or monsters. Sometimes the line between them disappears."

"We’ve already seen that. But thanks for the heads-up. We’ll be careful."

Kevin replied.

Gorgon gave a slow nod.

"I wish you luck. I will not forget your assistance here."

As Kevin and his companions turned to leave, Gorgon’s gaze lingered for a moment longer.

Something about those humans reminded him of a past that was hard to recall—one full of fire, blood, and forgotten names.

He didn’t know who they were looking for... but part of him suspected the Tower already knew.

And the Tower didn’t give up its monsters easily.