Three days passed after Ariea left the outpost room, and during those days, Aaric did little other than breathe, rest, and think. The memories of the forest lingered like a bruise in his mind—every scream, every blow, every shadow that wrapped around him when he slipped.
He felt stronger… but also hollow.
And yet, with every hour that passed, one thing pulled him forward—
His sister.
She was all he had left.
So when his body stopped trembling with pain and his strength finally returned, Aaric left the Stanners Guild outpost and walked toward a small settlement on the edge of Dawnvale City.
This part of the Tower was quieter than the bustling upper districts. Lanterns lit the narrow paths between cottages, and the smell of woodfire drifted through the air. It reminded him of home… before everything collapsed.
His footsteps slowed in front of a small wooden cottage.
He pushed the door open quietly.
Inside, lying on a thin bed with blankets gathered around her small frame, was a girl of thirteen—his little sister, Lynia.
Her long black hair lay scattered across her pillow like rivers of ink.Her breathing was soft, but her body was frail—too frail for a world filled with beasts and power.
Aaric's heart squeezed painfully.
"…I'm back," he whispered, even though she couldn't hear him.
He moved to her side and brushed a strand of hair from her forehead.Her skin was cool.Her eyelashes fluttered slightly, but she remained asleep.
A deep slumber that had lasted for weeks.
"Lynia… I brought essence crystals today," he murmured.
He reached into his pouch.
The crystals glimmered with faint blue light—pure energy harvested from defeated monsters. The majority had been taken by the Stanners Guild as compensation, but what remained was still more than Aaric had ever held in his life.
Enough to feed them for months.
Enough to buy more medicine.
He set them gently beside her bed.
His throat tightened.
"I'll keep going," he said softly. "I won't let you disappear like Kael… I'm going to make things better. I promise."
He stood up slowly, wiping the moisture from his eyes before it could fall, and walked into the small kitchen area. He lit the fire crystal on the stove, boiled rice, cut dried meat, and heated stew.
Cooking was the only time he felt a little at peace.
Just as he set the pot on the table—
Knock.Knock-knock.
Aaric stiffened.
Visitors were rare here.
He walked to the door, heart alert.
When he opened it, his breath caught.
Standing in the doorway was Ariea.
But not the cold, silver-armored vice leader who commanded entire outposts.
No.
This Ariea wore simple white clothes—loose, soft, and casual.Her hair was tied in a low knot.And she was smiling.
A soft, warm smile he does not see her very often.
"Aaric," she said, her voice gentle. "Can I come in?"
He stared for a moment, stunned. "Ah—y-yeah! Come in."
She stepped inside the cottage, her sharp presence immediately softening as she looked around. The warmth of the room, the faint scent of stew, the sight of Lynia sleeping peacefully—it all seemed to relax her.
"You keep it cozy," she said with a small laugh.
Aaric scratched the back of his head. "I… tried."
"You cooked?" she asked, surprised.
"Yeah. It's nothing fancy but… it's food."
She smiled again. "Then I want some."
He blinked. "Seriously?"
"Seriously."She sat at the table like she owned the place. "Serve me, chef."
Aaric sputtered and moved quickly, pouring stew into wooden bowls.
They sat across from each other, eating quietly for a moment.
Then Ariea leaned back.Her expression shifted—soft, but with the sharpness of a question she had been holding.
"Aaric… what actually happened in the forest?"
He froze.
The spoon trembled in his hand.
"You said you ran," she continued slowly, "but I know that wasn't the whole story."
Her voice wasn't accusing.It was concerned.
Aaric set the spoon down.
"I… didn't tell them everything," he admitted.
Ariea's eyes narrowed slightly.
Aaric took a shaky breath.
"When the beast attacked… something inside me changed."
She leaned closer. "Changed how?"
He lifted his hand and concentrated.
A faint black mist rose from his palm—shadow essence, swirling slowly like smoke.
Ariea's eyes widened, her breath catching.
"Aaric… that's—"
"I don't know how," he whispered. "But when I slipped… when I thought I would die… something woke up inside me. It felt familiar. Like…"
He swallowed.
"Like Kael."
She stared at him as though she couldn't believe what she was seeing.
Then, slowly, her lips parted.
"…Aaric, do you understand what this means?"
He shook his head. "Not really."
She exhaled sharply. "Your brother's essence… the core he awakened… you—somehow—you inherited it."
Aaric's heart pounded.
"…Is that even possible?"
"It shouldn't be," she admitted. "But neither should surviving a Four-Star beast with a cracked rib and no weapon."
Aaric looked at his hand again.
The shadows flickered.
Ariea leaned closer, her eyes bright—not cold, but full of wonder.
"Aaric, this is incredible. A shadow-type essence is extremely rare. And Kael was known across all floors for it. If you inherited even a fraction of his potential…"
She smiled—wide and proud.
"…you could become someone extraordinary."
Aaric's chest tightened.
No one had ever said something like that to him.
But the warmth was short-lived.
Ariea's expression suddenly turned serious.
"And this is why you need to be careful. You can't let the guild or any other faction hear about this. Not yet."
"Why?"
"Because shadow-type awakeners were hunted by certain legacy clans years ago. The wrong people hearing this could put you and Lynia in danger."
A cold chill ran down Aaric's back.
Ariea reached across the table and placed her hand over his.
Her touch was warm.
"I'll help you," she said softly. "Like Kael wanted. Like I promised him."
Aaric swallowed, emotion rising.
"…Thank you, Ariea."
She gave a faint blush and looked away. "Don't get emotional. It's annoying."
He laughed quietly.
Then Ariea straightened.
"There's something else I need to tell you."
Aaric tilted his head.
"I'm leaving the city soon," she said. "In two days."
His eyes widened. "Leaving? For what?"
"There's a tournament on the Fifteenth Floor," she explained. "All the major legacy guilds are hosting it—the Ironflame, Drakonhelm, Seraphis, and even the Sovereign's Circle."
Aaric's breath caught.
Those were names of giants.
"That tournament decides the next generation of elites," she said. "Positions, privileges, alliances… everything."
"And you're competing?"
She smiled confidently.
"I'm representing Stanners Guild as their Vice Leader. I'm already at Four-Star… and I've cleared twenty-five floors."
Aaric stared in awe.
She had grown stronger—so much stronger—while he had remained stuck on the lowest floors.
But instead of envy, pride filled his chest.
"Ariea… you're incredible."
She blushed again and threw a spoon at him. "Shut up."
He laughed weakly.
Then her gaze softened as she looked at Lynia sleeping peacefully.
"When I return," she said quietly, "I'll train you. Properly. Until then… survive. Don't disappear like Kael. Don't leave another hole behind."
Her words sank deep.
Then she stood.
"I'll visit again before I leave."
She walked toward the door, paused, and looked back with a tiny, rare smile.
"Your cooking is very terrible, by the way."
Aaric blinked. "What—"
"And I want more next time."
Then she left.
The door closed softly behind her.
Aaric looked at the bowls on the table…
Then at his sister…
Then at his hand, where faint shadow essence still flickered.
Ariea was leaving.
A huge tournament awaited her.
And he—
He had power now.A seed of something enormous.Something dangerous.Something he barely understood.
And he had no time to waste.
He needed direction.Strength.A path upward.
He looked toward the ceiling—the invisible floors above.
And for the first time…
Aaric felt the pull of the Tower.