Kyle closed his eyes and focused his consciousness.

Resonating with the Fragment, the goblin of the Sword Tower, required no elaborate incantations or rituals. Kyle had already met the Fragment and heard his “proposal.”

He imagined knocking on a door, and soon something like the clear chime of a bell rang inside his head.

When he opened his eyes, his surroundings had changed completely. Fenris embedded in the center of the cold marble floor, the throne—all of it was gone. Instead, he found himself in a spacious, opulent room.

A plush red carpet covered the floor, and a crystal chandelier cast a soft light from the ceiling. Kyle stood with his hands clasped behind his back and surveyed the room.

Of all the rooms Kyle had seen in his six years in the Sword Tower, this was the most lavish. Was this what the Emperor’s bedchamber looked like? Studying the inscrutable abstract paintings on the walls, he spoke.

“You like things fancier than I expected.”

“This is not my taste.”

The Fragment spoke from a large red sofa. Sweeping his red hair back, he regarded Kyle.

“It is the taste of the Dragon King who built the Sword Tower.”

“Isn’t the Dragon King’s taste your taste?”

Kyle grinned and dropped onto the sofa opposite him. Just as the Sword Tower was no ordinary tool, the Fragment was no ordinary goblin. He had introduced himself as a “fragment” and referred to the Dragon King as his “original self.” In other words, he was a part of the Dragon King dwelling within the Sword Tower.

“The Dragon King and I are different.”

The Fragment scowled in displeasure.

“Do not equate me with that obsession-ridden old monster. Yes, I am a part that split off from him, but I am not like him.”

“Hmm. If you say so.”

“Have you finished playing family?” the Fragment asked, tilting his head askew.

“Calling such heartwarming family affection a game? That’s rather harsh.”

“Hmph.”

The Fragment snorted and crooked a finger. A full-length mirror appeared in midair and slowly descended toward Kyle.

“Look.”

Kyle looked at himself in the mirror. A handsome, neatly dressed boy with golden eyes and red hair, carrying a wooden sword. It was the same sight that greeted him in the mirror every day, but one thing was different now.

A single pure-white thread sprouted from the crown of his head, extending into empty space. It looked like a string attached to a marionette, yet the light forming the thread felt strangely sacred.

“What is this?”

“A lifeline.”

The Fragment rose from the sofa, stood beside the mirror, and pointed at the thread of light sprouting from Kyle’s head.

“You ignorant brat. You came in without learning anything about the Floor of Asceticism, didn’t you?”

“Is that so unusual?”

“No. Your age is highly unusual, though. In any case, most of you Alastor bastards have more muscle than brains in your skulls and enjoy foolhardy challenges. To accommodate such idiots, a ‘guidebook’ is normally provided upon entry to the Floor of Asceticism.”

He crooked a finger on his other hand, and a thin, red-covered book appeared.

“Normally, you must read all of this and sign ‘I understand’ before entering the Floor of Asceticism. But since you can commune with me... I shall personally explain its rules to you.”

The Fragment waved a hand, and the red-covered book vanished.

“Listen carefully, brat. The Floor of Asceticism is part of the Sword Tower, but it is not as kind as the tower you have lived in for six years. Dangerous, deadly trials await here. Anyone who enters must become an ascetic, risking their life to overcome them.”

“Hmm. You called this a lifeline, right?”

Kyle tried to grasp the thread sprouting from his head, but no matter how he waved his hand through it, he felt nothing.

“You can talk about dangerous, deadly trials and ascetics risking their lives all you like... but the very existence of a lifeline seems awfully kind to me.”

“Do not be arrogant. Without even that, the Floor of Asceticism would have been declared forbidden and sealed away, even by those muscle-brained Alastor bastards.”

The Fragment looked Kyle straight in the eye, his gaze serious.

“The place you are about to enter is a land that does not permit the living. Bodies are routinely broken there, and it is all too easy for your mind to become corrupted and drive you mad.”

He tapped the lifeline reflected in the mirror.

“The lifeline is a safeguard. If you suffer a fatal wound on the Floor of Asceticism... or face the collapse of your mind and the loss of your self, the lifeline will forcibly summon you back to this room.”

“Hmm. So it revives me if I die? How convenient and kind.”

“It is rescue, not resurrection. It pulls you out just before you die.”

The Fragment’s expression grew stern as he added,

“But the lifeline is not unlimited. Once severed, it takes a week to reconnect.”

“A week...”

“Yes. If you throw your life away in there, you will have to sit here twiddling your thumbs for a week, unable to do a thing.”

Kyle quietly considered that. It was not a one-use safeguard, but its protection came with a penalty. His opportunities were limited. If he went in and immediately died by mistake, he would waste an entire week.

His gaze grew serious.

“What happens if I go in with my lifeline severed?”

“Do not go in.”

The Fragment’s eyes flashed. An explosive burst of golden light from his eyes bore down on Kyle.

“The lifeline does more than protect you from physical death. Its true purpose is to protect your mind.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I see no need to explain that myself. Even ignorant barbarians understand naturally once they enter.”

He paused, regarding Kyle with an odd look.

“Perhaps you... will understand even better. Though that is by no means a good thing.”

So he would understand once he went in? Kyle nodded, feeling his heart race. The light faded from the Fragment’s eyes, but he gave Kyle a thoroughly displeased look.

“You seem to have interpreted that however you pleased.”

“Oh, come on. I understood perfectly.”

“If you do not want to waste time... use your life sparingly. Unless you want to come all this way only to squander a week.”

“So all I have to do is not die, right?”

“Easy for you to say.”

The Fragment heaved a sigh and waved a hand. A door appeared on one side of the room.

“I am not saying this to frighten you, but take it to heart. The girl with the ice spiritual root who entered before you barely lasted a month here, and she spent half of that sitting in this room after losing her lifeline.”

“Hahaha! Aunt Erika offered to give me advice, and she spent half her time doing nothing?”

“Her performance is not worthy of mockery. Most of your relatives were the same on their first attempt. To survive here without dying, you would need to be at least twice your current age. Even then, that assumes you obey the ‘rules.’”

“What rules?”

“The Floor of Asceticism occupies the sixth through ninth floors of the Sword Tower. Each floor has its own environment and rules. The place you are about to enter is the ‘Mudflats.’”

“Mudflats?”

Kyle blinked. Hearing that the Floor of Asceticism was inside the Sword Tower, he had imagined he might be climbing the tower. The name Mudflats sounded utterly out of nowhere.

“You mean... the kind by the sea?”

“Yes. Those mudflats.”

The Fragment gave an odd smile at Kyle’s bewildered expression.

“There are two periods in the Mudflats. The incoming tide and the outgoing tide.”

He raised a hand and drew a circle in the air. An illusion of mudflats filled with ash-gray mud appeared.

“The tide is out now. The water has receded, exposing the ground. During this period, you fight the monsters in the mud. Fight, kill, and survive. Those are the rules of the outgoing tide.”

“And when the tide comes in?”

“Run.”

The Fragment’s voice sank, low and chilling.

“When the dark-purple mist begins to swirl and you hear the waves, run without looking back. Where, you ask? To the pure-white pillars of bone rising throughout the Mudflats. Jump onto them and take refuge.”

“If the water rises... can’t I just swim?”

“Ha. Swim?”

The Fragment gave an incredulous snort.

“That water is not the seawater you know. It is a poison that corrupts everything it touches. And ‘everything’ includes not only your body, but your mind.”

“...”

“But the water itself is not the real danger. Beneath it... roam things no human should dare face. Beings that can collapse your mind and sever your lifeline merely by meeting your eyes.”

Kyle silently met the Fragment’s gaze. There was not a trace of humor in his expression.

“So remember. Fight when the tide is out. Hide when it comes in. That is the foremost rule of survival on the sixth floor, the Mudflats. In truth, the best option is simply to return to this room.”

“Hmm...”

Kyle tipped his head.

“I get the general idea, but what about meals?”

“Normally, you return to this room to eat.”

“I don’t see anything edible...”

“You may request rewards in this room based on how many monsters you kill in the Mudflats. You can receive drinks as well.”

“If my lifeline breaks, do I have to starve for a week?”

“It is not that harsh. You receive the bare minimum of food and water needed to stay alive. Raise your hand and ask for food.”

Kyle raised his hand as instructed and thought of food. A loaf of bread the size of his forearm dropped out of thin air. He picked it up with a disbelieving laugh. The bread was so hard it felt like a club.

“If I come back after losing my lifeline, I’ll be too hungry to fight properly.”

“You need not worry about food.”

The Fragment walked past the mirror toward Kyle.

“Ordinarily, the Floor of Asceticism grants fair trials and rewards to those who enter. Killing monsters and absorbing their energy to strengthen your body is the reward offered here.”

He planted his hand firmly on Kyle’s chest.

“But you are no ordinary human. You possess that unprecedented, malformed spiritual root of chaos.”

“Yes.”

“Then kill the monsters of the Mudflats and eat them.”

“What?”

“Did I not tell you yesterday? Pass the trials and build a body capable of learning the cultivation method I will complete for you.”

The Fragment slowly raised his arm. Kyle’s body floated into the air, still in contact with his hand.

“If you recklessly absorb the power dwelling in the flesh of those monsters, your body will collapse, even with your spiritual root. But with my blessing, their flesh will strengthen your spiritual root further and optimize your body to suit it.”

A sharp jolt shot through him.

Kyle shuddered as though electricity were coursing through his entire body. Golden light bloomed from the Fragment’s hand, pierced his skin, and rapidly spread through his blood vessels and mana circuits. It was not simply an infusion of power. It was a process of fortifying the foundation and reinforcing the framework of the vessel that was his body.

“This blessing will purify the impure energy in the flesh you chew and swallow. It will filter out the dregs, leaving only pure power and properties to be added to your body.”

The Fragment’s eyes shone gold.

“Be grateful. In five hundred years, I have never intervened this much for any human of Alastor.”

The light faded, and the Fragment withdrew his hand. Kyle looked down at his chest. Nothing had changed outwardly, but he felt as though a solid core had been planted deep inside him.

“Oh...”

He rubbed his chest in wonder.

“It definitely feels different. Somehow... like my body’s sturdier.”

“Do not misunderstand. You have not become stronger yet. I have merely given you a digestive remedy so you can properly stomach whatever you stuff down your gullet from now on.”

The Fragment replied coldly and dropped back onto the sofa.

“I have told you everything I need to tell you and done everything I need to do. Any more questions?”

“No, that’s plenty.”

Kyle grinned as he answered, and his floating body slowly descended.

“Do not waste your time dying.”

With those words, the door on the side of the room slid open.

Kyle took a deep breath and stepped toward it.

* * *

SQUELCH.

Something wet and unpleasant pressed against the soles of his feet. The moment the view opened before him, Kyle involuntarily grimaced.

“What the hell is that smell...”

The nose-piercing stench could give Aslan after twelve years shut away in his cultivation room a run for his money. It smelled like rotting fish guts... No, a human corpse? An extremely, extremely old one. The foul odor burrowed deep into his lungs.

Looking around, he saw an endless expanse of ash-gray mud. Dark-purple mist blanketed the sky, and he could sense no sign of life anywhere.

‘So these are... the Mudflats...’

Kyle surveyed the landscape, then glanced behind him. The door through which he had entered had closed on its own and stood there alone.

The lifeline extending from the crown of his head was connected to its handle. Kyle understood how to return to the room.

‘I can’t stray too far from the door if I want to get back.’

Food and drinking water could only be obtained in the room. To venture far from the door, he would need to hunt monsters in the Mudflats, secure enough food and water in the room, and set out prepared.

‘But I don’t need to worry about the food in there. I can eat the monsters.’

The problem was drinking water. Could monster blood replace it? Pondering that, Kyle crouched and felt the ash-gray mud with his hand.

It was damp and sticky. He had never spent much time at sea, but he was not wholly ignorant of it. Seawater was not drinkable.

‘I’ll have a better idea once I catch a monster. If I can’t drink their blood, I can hunt around here today... then go back to the room, get some water, and come out again.’

Having decided on a course of action, Kyle started to rise.

At that instant, a chill sent goosebumps over his entire body.

“...?”

Kyle froze. He could not move. Fear? No. Something far more primal... an unpleasant, unsettling sensation that seemed to touch the deepest recesses of a living creature’s instincts washed over him.

He steadied his breathing, lifted his head, and looked up. He could not see the sky. Only dense, writhing dark-purple mist filled the space above.

Now, that mist looked to Kyle like a curtain concealing something. He slowly straightened and stared intently at it. Something incomprehensible. He felt the lifeline attached to his head thrashing.

Little by little, he realized what was causing this sensation. It was a ‘gaze.’ Something far beyond human understanding was looking down from beyond the curtain.

‘What is this?’

Kyle’s heart pounded wildly. A sickening feeling unlike anything he had experienced on any battlefield in his previous life churned in his belly. This was different even from the gazes of the powerful foes who had defeated the Sword Demon. At least those enemies had looked at him with hostility.

But he could feel no hostility in that gaze. That thing—it was not even looking at Kyle. It was merely looking down. Perhaps it was observing how the insignificant creatures so much smaller than itself moved, how they lived, and how they died.

A buzzing rang inside his head. Unfathomable whispers. Damp, unpleasant sounds like wet mud rubbing together.

‘He said I’d understand once I came in.’

The Fragment had said the lifeline’s true purpose was to protect his mind. Kyle understood exactly what that meant now. The only reason he could look up there was that the lifeline was protecting his mind.

He also understood what the Fragment meant by saying he would understand ‘better.’ The moment a person awakened their spiritual root, they sensed mana. Kyle felt something akin to what he had experienced a year earlier, when he first awakened his spiritual root and sensed mana.

His awakened spiritual root of chaos was sensing this gaze ‘better.’

“Hh.”

Kyle suppressed a retch. His stomach felt as though it were turning inside out. The ground beneath him did not feel like the sixth floor of the Sword Tower, but somewhere entirely different, foul and horrifying.

Perhaps it truly was. The Sword Tower, gifted by the Dragon King to Ruin Alastor. The Sword Tower where Alastor’s purebloods lived. Why was that tower connected to such an insane world?

‘Where am I?’

His instincts sounded a warning. The name Floor of Asceticism felt like a deception. Was this truly a place for training? Kyle wanted to know where on earth he was standing. Mudflats, incoming and outgoing tides—even those rules defied ordinary common sense. This was not the world he knew.

Anxiety gripped him, as though he stood precariously on a single thin plank in a vast darkness. One wrong step, and he would plunge into an endless abyss to be devoured by the unknown owners of those gazes.

“Ha...”

Breathing hard, Kyle gripped his wooden sword.

“Hahaha...!”

The unpleasant feeling crept up within him. At last, he understood exactly what it was. Fear. The urge to flee.

“Me?”

It was absurd, and it made him angry. Kyle drew his wooden sword and promptly smacked himself over the head.

THWACK!

The dull impact sent his skull ringing. Only then did he feel his mind begin to function properly again.

“Fuck that.”

He had hit himself so hard that blood trickled down his head. Wiping it away with the back of his hand, Kyle trudged through the mud with wet, squelching steps.

For the first time in a very long while, defiance and fierce determination surged within him.

Fleeing in terror was not in Kyle’s nature.