CHAPTER 91: CH 91: THE FINAL FRAGMENT- PART 1

Another week crawled by with frustrating stillness.

Fenrir kept a constant eye on system announcements, news bulletins, dungeon feeds—anything that might signal a shift in the Echoes of the Tower quest.

But there was nothing. No whispers. No sudden dings of system prompts. Not even so much as a misleading rumor.

Even the loud-mouthed theorists and self-proclaimed Tower experts online had gone quiet.

For Fenrir, it was unbearable.

He leaned back in his lab chair, tossing a half-completed potion formula aside in annoyance.

He had just finished brewing his latest batch of recovery and enhancement potions, all packaged and ready for Legion to pick up. It should’ve felt satisfying. It didn’t.

This limbo—it scraped at him. Each silent day felt like a delay against his very soul.

He glanced at the screen. Still nothing.

Fenrir let out a long sigh, rubbing at his temples.

"This is pointless. If the system won’t move things forward, I’ll just have to do it myself."

He muttered, standing up.

At that moment, Nedrax materialized beside him, stretching his long body lazily across the floor, wings folding in with regal grace.

The dragon’s eyes shimmered with intelligence as he gave Fenrir a skeptical look.

"Master, you are unusually restless. All this urgency... why?"

Nedrax said slowly.

Fenrir raised a brow.

"Because we’re wasting time."

"But why are you so worried about returning to the Tower so quickly?"

Nedrax asked, resting his head on his foreclaws.

"You have divine blood. Once you awaken fully, immortality is within reach. You could live ten thousand years without consequence. Why rush?"

Fenrir remained quiet for a moment. His fingers brushed against the edge of his workstation, tapping once, then again.

"I’m not worried about the Tower. I want to return to it. I need

to."

He said.

Nedrax tilted his head, waiting.

"I left somethings inside. Something... essential."

Fenrir admitted. "

There was a long silence before he continued, voice calm but edged with purpose.

"Back then, I knew they were coming for me. The divine ones. I wasn’t strong enough to face them—not in the body I had. So I made a choice. I scattered my power across the Tower... sealed fragments of it inside each floor, encoded into the very architecture of the place. My knowledge, my mana, everything that made me who I was."

"A contingency?"

Nedrax murmured.

"A blueprint for resurrection."

Fenrir corrected.

He finally turned toward his companion, eyes sharp.

"This body is just the beginning. But to reclaim my full self—to become whole again—I need those fragments. I don’t care if it takes time, but I do care if I sit around doing nothing."

Nedrax was quiet for a moment. Then he huffed, a small curl of smoke escaping his nostrils.

"I see. I didn’t expect you to be sentimental."

Fenrir snorted.

"Sentimental? That’s not it. I’m just... efficient."

The dragon smirked slightly, then nodded.

"Very well, Master. If you’re determined to seek the final fragment, then let’s begin. Where do we start?"

"That’s the question. There’s no clue. No hint. If the Tower won’t tell me, I’ll have to make it."

Fenrir muttered, pulling up his system map.

Nedrax flicked his tail.

"Then we hunt. Not just dungeons—but whispers, histories, anything connected to that tower. Somewhere out there, the last piece is waiting."

Fenrir grinned faintly.

"Exactly."

He glanced at the calendar and narrowed his eyes.

Another week was gone. Too much time wasted already.

"Come on. If the Tower won’t come to me, then I’ll shake the world until it does."

he said, grabbing his pack and slinging it over his shoulder.

______

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across his lab, Fenrir sat at his desk, scanning the news feeds and dungeon networks out of habit more than hope.

It had become routine by now—wake, train, craft, brew, check news. Repeat. But something caught his attention this time.

The headline read:

[Newly Reclassified Dungeon Raises Eyebrows — S-Class or Not?]

Fenrir leaned forward, eyes narrowing as he clicked through.

The article described a dungeon recently reclassified as S-class, despite its suspiciously easy monster patterns and unremarkable terrain.

It had quickly become a hotspot for high A-class hunters to farm experience and test their party formations without real danger.

There were even clips of guilds laughing their way through full clears.

It looked... off.

Fenrir didn’t believe in coincidences.

"This place doesn’t feel right. S-class, but it behaves like a training zone? It’s either a trap... or a hidden gateway."

He muttered.

Nedrax, lounging by the window in his curled-up dragon form, let out a slow breath.

"You’re thinking this is connected to the Tower, aren’t you?"

Fenrir didn’t answer directly. He stood up, pulling his coat on. His movements were decisive.

"Are you really going? You’ve already trained this week harder than any other. You’ve been pushing your stats. Is this necessary?"

Nedrax asked, raising his head.

"I have a feeling. And I’ve learned to trust those."

Fenrir replied, his tone curt.

Nedrax watched him in silence for a moment, then stood as well, his body shimmering briefly as he shrunk down into his compact travel form. His eyes didn’t blink as he spoke again.

"If you go through with this, you might bring the Tower closer to this world. Once it’s here, everything changes. The balance of power, the structure of our world, the way people live and survive... it’ll all shift."

Fenrir turned to him, face unreadable.

"So?"

"So? You’d plunge this world into chaos. Nations will crumble. Hunters who’ve grown lazy will die in droves. Cities will fall. You know what the Tower does when it anchors itself here."

Nedrax echoed.

Fenrir tilted his head slightly, brows furrowing as if truly considering it.

Then he shrugged.

"Why should I care?"

He said plainly.

Nedrax blinked.

"This world isn’t my responsibility."

Fenrir continued, voice calm, almost cold.

"If the Tower comes, then those who want to climb it will get stronger. Those who don’t will fall behind. That’s how it’s always been. Survival through evolution. I won’t slow down just because the world is too weak to keep up."

Nedrax let out a snort, wings twitching.

"You’re a tyrant."

"No. I’m efficient."

Fenrir corrected him.

The dragon narrowed his eyes.

"You don’t even pretend to care."

Fenrir glanced out the window, toward the lights of the city below, his expression distant.

"Why should I? I used to, a long time ago. Before I learned how pointless it was. People only care when they’re forced to. Comfort makes them soft. Fear makes them sharp."

"You really believe that?"

"I know that. If they want to survive the Tower, then they’ll have to adapt. Just like I did."

Fenrir replied.

Nedrax let out a low grumble, but even as he argued, he knew it was futile. His master wouldn’t budge. He never did.

The world would simply have to learn how to keep up.

Fenrir summoned his gear, checked the contents of his inventory, and slung his pack over his shoulder.

"Let’s go."

He said.

Nedrax shifted into a shimmer of light and followed silently.

They stepped out of the lab and disappeared into the night.

The dungeon, named Beginner’s Adventure, was just a few hours outside the city—a massive forest basin that looked entirely too serene for an S-class site.

At the entrance, a pair of high-ranking hunters lounged casually, waving at Fenrir without recognition. He ignored them and walked straight in.

Nedrax floated behind him in his compact form, murmuring.

"I can feel something here... it’s faint, but it’s not natural."

Fenrir nodded. "It’s hidden. Like a sealed gate. Let’s see how deep this rabbit hole goes."

And as he entered the dungeon, the wind shifted unnaturally. The monsters inside began to stir.

The Tower was listening.