Chương 387: Chapter 377 - It’s Over 9000!!!

Alonso hovered in the quiet sky, the silence feeling far too still for everything that had just happened. His body was wrecked. Burns mottled his skin. Cuts stung with every breath. Bruises throbbed beneath torn fabric. Dried blood clung to his armour and hair like a second layer of grime. And beneath all that, deeper than muscle, he felt the real strain. His mind was ringing. The high, razor-sharp tempo he had been riding through the fight had collapsed into a dull, heavy muddiness. A pressure behind his skull.

A throb that pulsed behind his eyes. The unmistakable recoil of pushing Will Manifest past its threshold. He knew this feeling well from training. It meant one thing. He wouldn't be using it again for a while. But despite the pounding headache, the shaking breath, the ache in every fibre of his body—he grinned. Items drifted downward from where Jack had vanished, falling like quiet stars returning to earth. Seven red orbs. A piece of gear. Tempering materials. All looked rather fancy.

Yet his eyes barely touched them. His gaze lingered on the empty space where the boy had stood—golden eyes, wings, vines, feathers, everything—gone without a trace. Only the faint shimmer of his Will remained in the air. The fight replayed in his mind. It had been… a good fight. A worthy clash. A battle that forced him to give everything he had inside him and more. And still, a part of him felt the faint smallest ache of disappointment. Because even though Jack's Will was immense, his presence had been hollow.

No feelings. No sparks of emotion. No resolve to give it his all. Just a Dungeon construct doing what it was designed to do. If he had possessed desire, if he had fought the way humans did, or even the way the natives did, like the seven-tails with its relentless refusal to die and its ability to improve in the middle of a battle, then he would have been a far more terrifying opponent. But as he was, he had still been enough. A great challenge. Enough to push him past the line.

His skills spoke for it, with Will Manifest advancing more in one battle than in a week of training: No-Strike – 20. 845% ➤ 20. 999% Path of Shards – 20. 993% ➤ 20. 999% Will Manifest – 9. 654% ➤ 10. 782% This pressure. This danger. This feeling of his life on the edge as he matched another Will with everything he had—this was what he needed. What refined him. What shattered the walls in his way. He lifted one blade, letting it catch the faint light still shimmering in the sky.

Then he dipped his head by a fraction. He wasn't sure who he was thanking—Jack, the Dungeon, or The Tower itself—but the feeling rose naturally. A gesture of a warrior to another.

"Thanks for the fight." He held the posture for a breath before straightening. His focus shifted back toward the others below and the loot scattered in the air, but then a prompt flickered into view, as if it had been waiting for that exact moment. Grade 03 - Title Earned:"Burden of the Lone Hero" Effect: +5% Power of Will Another title? He studied it for a moment, unsure if the 'lone hero' referenced the legendary boy he had just defeated… or if it was aimed at him, for fighting alone.

The second possibility pressed on him faintly as he descended, the others coming into clearer view. Their expressions carried a mixture of awe, disbelief, pride, and something heavier beneath it. He wasn't alone—he knew that. But there was a divide again. A gap that pressed heavier on them than on him. He saw it in Ayu's eyes. Pride, sharp and bright. And under it… that quiet weight she could never hide from him. The longing. The determination. She wanted to stand where he stood. Not behind. Not watching.

Beside him. And that was fine. She was a warrior too. They all were. Each had their own path, and he truly believed that they would all grow. Whether the divide remained, he couldn't say. But as for him… he would not hold back. He would not slow down. He would not bow to comfort. Whatever came next, he would overcome it. And he would use this world's strongest— this Tower's endless trials— To temper his blades.

Chiara stared calmly as Alonso descended. There was so much streaming through her head that, for the first time, even three minds felt insufficient. Lines of logic overlapped, calculations misaligned, probabilities derailed. For a moment she felt her foundation… wobble. Everything she had done up to now—every theory, every model, every breakthrough—felt painfully small. She questioned herself. Her path. Her very existence. For once in her life, she felt truly, profoundly inferior to someone else.

And for once, she was staring at a problem she could not solve. This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Since entering The Tower, her desire to rise, to uncover the ultimate truth, to peer into that black hole of unanswered questions, had been the constant that shaped her. She wanted to climb. She wanted power only as a means to reach deeper knowledge, vaster systems, the hidden mechanics of the world itself.

She had believed she was at the top of the curve. Maybe not the very best, but certainly someone who would always be prepared, someone who would overcome every trial The Tower offered. Yet now that belief cracked. She wondered if she truly had what it took to stay ahead of The Tower's rising difficulty curve. Maybe she was fine today… but tomorrow? The gap between her and Alonso wasn't a gap at all. It was a void. A singularity.

Every calculation she ran gave the same answer with zero deviation: if all Climbers fought him together, they would be wiped out. Easily. But it wasn't Alonso she feared. She trusted him completely. It was what his existence meant. If someone could reach such a height, it meant only one thing: The Tower's curve would eventually climb to that level. And when it did… everyone beneath it… would die. Even if they were brought back to Earth… to her, that would be no different than afterlife comfort.

A concession for the fallen. It meant her path would be cut short. Her dreams unfinished. That she was unworthy of the knowledge above. That she was— Useless. Her fist tightened at her side. But then a warm pressure settled on her shoulder." Don't overthink it," Lukas pulsed lightly, the tone almost annoyingly relaxed." If you try to calculate your way out of feeling bad, your brilliant brain's gonna overheat and explode. And then who's gonna explain things to the rest of us?" Chiara blinked.

A snort almost escaped her. Lukas kept going, the corner of his mouth lifting into that lazy half-smile that always disarmed her." Alonso found his path and worked himself to the bone. Good for him. But that doesn't mean the rest of us are supposed to curl into a ball and cry. It just means the ceiling is higher than we thought.

Great news, really. More room for you to show off." He shrugged, expression casual, voice soft beneath the humour." You're the smartest person I know, Chiara, and you've got the kind of drive needed in this place. If anyone can keep up with this crazy Tower… it's you." A small breath left her. A smile rose before she could stop it." Well… you better be there with me when I do." Lukas gave a lazy nod." Of course."

Leonie stood rooted in place, breath trapped somewhere between disbelief and awe. What had she just witnessed? For a moment she genuinely wondered whether the Dungeon had warped her senses. It felt too impossible, too unreal. How? How could someone who began where she did stand at that height already? This wasn't a gap that could be explained by training or talent. It was something vast, something that made the world feel small around him.

If Alonso appeared on Earth with this power, people would not call him strong. They would call him divine. A being capable of wiping humanity clean if he ever chose to. And yet he was just Alonso. The composed, skilled young man she had sparred with a week ago. The Golden Goose. The boy. The seven giant beanstalks tearing the sky. All of it looked like a trial reserved for the end of the world. And he walked through it. She inhaled, steadying herself with the discipline she had honed her whole life.

Her grip tightened on her sword as she steadied her breath. She was Leonie. Pride didn't vanish just because the gap was enormous. Pride meant wanting to climb no matter how impossible the summit looked. Pride meant refusing to fold even when faced with someone who shattered every expectation she had ever held. Her eyes drifted to Alonso as he descended. He was bruised, burnt, streaked with dried blood, but his posture never wavered.

There was a steadiness to him, a quiet confidence that felt earned rather than displayed. He walked as if he had touched a boundary no human should reach and then stepped past it without hesitation. The sight hit her harder than the spectacle of the fight. Something warm stirred low in her chest. Admiration she could not deny. Respect so sharp it almost hurt. And beneath it, a softer pull she refused to name but could feel all the same.

She had always valued strength, will, discipline—but seeing all of that inside him, burning so fiercely… it struck something deeper than she expected. She let her breath ease out, her heartbeat settling into something steady and bright. The gap between them was heaven and earth. Fine. Her goal did not change. Her pride did not break. If anything, the path ahead became clearer than ever. She wanted to reach that height. To stand on that same plane. Even if he already had Ayu.

Even if what stirred in her would go unspoken. Her resolve was hers alone, and this moment burned it solid. She lifted her chin. One day, no matter how long it takes, no matter what it takes… She would stand beside him.

Alonso approached the loot after exchanging a brief nod with the others, a gesture that said more than any words could. He picked up one of the red orbs and felt that familiar surge rush through him, a clean restoration that wiped away every trace of the battle's toll. He wondered for a moment if he could stockpile these and use them for training. That kind of instant recovery would be a blessing for the kind of pain he often pushed himself through.

The thought made him chuckle as the strength climbing through his body deepened everything around him. Stage 1 – 30. 643% ➤ 33. 643% It felt great. A 3% SP jump at this point was huge, far beyond what the boss giant had offered. Once again The Tower proved that only big risks earned big rewards. His gaze shifted to the lone item left behind. He was about to complain about the stingy drop rate when he froze, jaw slack for a second before a slow grin overtook his face.

Grade 04 - Sky Blades of the Giant-Slayer Tempering State: 0 Physical aptitude +4% Pillar aptitude +4% Internal EM conduction +8% The blades lay crossed on the cloud-paved field, each single-edged and shaped like the long curve of a fallen feather. Their surfaces were pale white with a thin gold line running from guard to tip, and a coiling beanstalk emblem rested at each hilt. Toward the last third of the blade, the edge subtly narrowed, ending in a reinforced, double-edged tip. He reached for them.

Nothing happened. Oh right, gear limit. He slipped off the Grade 1 belt, and the twin blades responded at once, lengthening and adjusting until they matched the reach he was used to. He tested their weight. Smooth. Balanced. Perfect. He pushed an EM pulse through them and the response made his eyes widen. They carried far more conductivity than Imani's crafted pair—easily over 20%. For someone else it might have been a pleasant bonus.

For him, whose entire path depended on two perfectly conductive blades, it was fantastic. He swung them once. They responded smoothly and naturally, the razor-thin edges cutting cleanly through the air. They were excellent swords. The best he had ever held. Just the physical traits and EM conductivity alone would increase his true combat strength by no small margin. His path didn't need any other equipment, just two blades capable of matching his output. Then he reread the final line.

Internal EM conduction +8% His pulse tightened. He activated his micro-capacitors and felt the shift instantly. The response was cleaner. Quicker. His field corrected faster than before, the flow aligning itself a couple of nanoseconds faster. Was this item tailor-made for him? He studied the blades a moment longer, almost amused by how well they fit his style. A thought drifted in." What do you think, Houston? What would be my Power Index now?"" Hard to tell," Houston replied." But one thing I'm sure of.

At the very least… it's over 9000."