The forest was too quiet.
Aaric felt it first—not in his ears, but in his bones. The kind of silence that didn't belong on the Third Floor. No rustling leaves. No growls in the distance. No hurried footsteps of his fallen companions. The world held its breath, as though even the Tower itself waited for what came next.
The monster's steps thudded behind him.
Aaric forced himself to stand despite the trembling in his legs. Darnel's blood still steamed on the forest floor, forming a dark pool around the lifeless body of the man who had led them. A man courageous enough to face a four-star beast… but not strong enough to survive it.
Aaric swallowed the rising panic.'Don't break. Not now. Not here.'
His fingers tightened around the shattered handle of the transport crate—useless as a weapon but something to hold onto, something to anchor him against fear.
The creature stepped into view.
A towering hound-like beast with jagged bone plates jutting from its spine, its four blood-red eyes locked onto him. Shadows bled from its maw with each breath, as if it devoured darkness itself.
Aaric's throat tightened.This was death. Real, imminent, merciless death.
Yet something in him refused to kneel.
A memory stirred—the final smile of Kael, his brother, on the day he had climbed past the 15th floor.
"Aaric… you don't run from your shadow. You use it."
Kael's voice rang inside him—steady, deep, unyielding.
Another voice followed, colder, sharper.Ariea, his only true friend. Her resolve had once frightened even seasoned challengers.
"Strength isn't given.""Strength is consumed."
Aaric exhaled.Their memories were all he had now. Their power was gone. His brother's cohort vanished.
Yet, somehow… as the beast crouched to strike…
A faint chill moved across his skin.
Like a drifting shadow brushing against him.
Aaric blinked.For a moment—just a heartbeat—Kael's silhouette stood beside him. A tall, calm figure draped in rippling darkness. The illusion flickered, unstable, like smoke in the wind.
Aaric's heart hammered.Was this fear?Or… something else?
The monster lunged.
Aaric rolled aside, feeling the wind of its claws slice where his neck had been. He hit the ground hard, dirt scraping his palms, branches tearing at his arms. He scrambled up just in time to dodge another blow.
The beast was fast. Far too fast.Aaric wasn't a fighter—not like Kael. Not like the Stainers. He was a transporter, a carrier, a nobody.
But as the creature barreled past him, he felt it—A pulse.A tiny spark.Something shifting inside his chest.
A faint blue screen flickered before him—
[Will Resonance Detected…][Inherited Will of Kael Vale — Awakening…]
Aaric eyes widened.
His shadow… moved.
It stretched, just an inch. As though reaching forward.
"What…?" he whispered.
No time to think. The monster whirled around, black saliva splattering across the ground. Its wounded leg—torn by Darnel in his final attack—slowed it slightly, but not nearly enough.
Aaric forced himself to focus.If Kael could see him now… what would he do?
He didn't have Kael's strength.He didn't have Ariea's resolve.He didn't have Darnel's courage.
But he had one thing they once gave him—belief.
Aaric raised his trembling hands.He felt for the spark again—the cold flicker of shadow.
And then… he moved.
Not skillfully. Not elegantly.But instinctively.
He darted left.The monster chased, snapping its jaws.He pivoted behind a fallen trunk.The beast slammed into it, cracking wood.
He felt the shadow again—closer this time. Threading through his veins, chilling his nerves, sharpening the world around him. Like a whisper kissing the edge of his consciousness.
Kael's voice again:"The Tower takes everything—fear, pain, time. Give it one thing back: yourself."
Aaric gritted his teeth and sprinted toward the scattered essence crystals spilled from the shattered crates. Small, faintly glowing stones rolled across the ground—the remains of lesser beasts the Stainers had harvested.
He dove and grabbed the nearest crystal.
It pulsed in his palm.
A weak pulse. A beginner's spark.
But enough.
The monster leapt.
Aaric closed his fist around the crystal and felt its energy rush into him—cold, sharp, biting. His shadow twitched. Expanded. Wrapped around his arm like smoke.
The creature's claws slashed downward.
Aaric raised his right arm without thinking—And the shadow surged.A burst of dark mist exploded outward, deflecting the blow just enough for him to stagger back rather than be torn apart.
Pain shot up his arm. The force nearly broke him.
But he lived.
He was still alive.
The beast recoiled, its lower claws scraping the dirt. It wasn't used to resistance from prey. Especially not from a mere 1-star.
Aaric trembled, panting, staring at the faint outline of darkness fading from his arm.
Was that… Kael's essence?A remnant?An echo?
No. That was impossible. Essence didn't linger like ghosts.
But maybe…Maybe some shadows did.
The monster roared, shaking the forest. It charged again.
Aaric didn't run.
He sidestepped at the last moment, sliding across damp leaves, letting the beast's momentum carry it past him. Then he grabbed another essence crystal—two this time—and crushed them between his hands.
The surge was stronger.A cold torrent shot up his spine.Shadows spiraled around his fingers.
He swung his arm toward the creature.
A wave of dark mist exploded outward—short, weak, unrefined, but powerful enough to slam into the monster's wounded leg.
The beast stumbled.
Aaric gasped.His vision blurred.The crystals' cold essence burned like ice in his veins.
But he wasn't dead.
He was fighting.
Kael… Ariea… look at me,
he thought fiercely. I'm not nobody. Not anymore.
The monster rose again, slower now. Blood seeped from its leg, mixing with the thick shadow around its jaws. Its eyes glowed brighter—angrier.
It lunged.
Aaric braced himself.
They clashed in a brutal dance—Aaric rolling, stumbling, sliding across roots and fallen leaves.The beast snapping, crashing, tearing through trees.Each dodge barely saving his life.
He jabbed with shadow-coated fists, weak but persistent.He struck the injured leg again and again.He used terrain to his advantage, ducking under branches, forcing the beast to smash into obstacles.
But every second drained him.
Every breath hurt.
Every heartbeat felt like fire.
The monster was weakening…But so was he.
Its last roar was a desperate one—echoing through the forest as it gathered its remaining strength for a final, frenzied charge.
Aaric saw it.In that moment, he truly saw it.
He wasn't Kael.He wasn't Ariea.He wasn't Darnel.
He was Aaric.A boy who carried crates.A boy who held onto memories because he had nothing else.
But right now…Right now he was something more.
The shadow around his arm flickered again.Yet this time—it didn't feel like Kael's power.
It felt like his.
Aaric sprinted straight toward the monster.
Not away—toward.
The creature, stunned by the defiance, reacted a fraction too late.
Aaric leapt.
He aimed for the wounded side.Shadow surged across his fist as he swung with every scrap of will he had left.
His blow connected.
The shockwave knocked him back.The beast staggered, collapsing into a tree, cracking the trunk in half. Essence-rich azure blood spilled from its wound.
For a moment—a fragile, trembling moment—Aaric stood victorious.
His chest heaved.His arms shook.His shadow fluttered, thin as smoke, but present.
He had done it.He had actually—
His foot slid.
A sudden shift beneath him—loose gravel, wet leaves, blood-soaked soil.
Aaric's balance vanished.
And at that exact second…
The monster's remaining eye snapped open.
Burning with primal fury.
It lunged.
Straight toward the falling Aaric.
And he—slipped.