During the Tower Entry schedule, the professors in charge of each grade gathered in one place.
The purpose was twofold: to discuss the progress of the Tower Entry and to respond immediately in case of any emergencies.
This semester’s Tower Entry theme was Introspection.
The concept was simple.
A fight against a replica of oneself.
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After overcoming the replica, cadets could request the summoning of other entities, but the primary challenge remained the battle against their duplicate.
As such, the evaluation criteria were neither as varied nor as strict as the Tower Entry in the first semester.
In essence...
"If it’s like this, why not just let them go? We’re not even getting real-time updates..."
The voice echoed in the quiet room.
It was Lee Suyeon, the professor in charge of the Elite Class.
Resting her chin on her hand, she murmured in a bored tone, prompting a few professors to nod inwardly in agreement.
Unlike the first semester, the holograms displayed on the table were sparse.
Even those were not real-time video feeds but simple charts and tables filled with equations.
For some reason, real-time video sharing was not implemented for this Tower Entry.
As a result, the first-year professors gathered here were all busy handling their own tasks.
A teaching assistant near Lee Suyeon offered a wry smile and responded.
"There might be emergencies."
"We’ve never had a single emergency before. It might be overkill, but honestly, what kind of accident could even happen here? A fistfight between cadets?"
"Haha..."
Siyoram’s defenses were infamous.
There had been countless attempts to breach it, yet not a single minor intrusion had ever succeeded. The term “impregnable fortress” suited it perfectly.
The idea of something going wrong at Siyoram was almost inconceivable to Lee Suyeon.
Still, the academy’s policies were the policies, so she remained in place.
In any case, since the first-year professors were gathered, multiple meetings took place.
"Will this year’s Birth Festival follow the same schedule as last year?"
"According to the Vice Principal, it will be even grander this year."
"Really? Last year’s was incredible—I had so much fun. Especially going around all the stalls cadets set up... Oh, wait, I’m in charge of a grade now."
The primary topic of discussion was the Birth Festival.
The Birth Festival was an end-of-year celebration hosted by Siyoram.
It had been a tradition since the academy’s founding, meant to celebrate the futures of students leaving Siyoram to venture into the world.
While the processes and schedules had changed over the years, the core of the festival—eating, playing, and enjoying—remained the same.
As such, the schedule was fairly standard.
Ultimately, the festival’s purpose was to provide enjoyment for its participants.
There were entertainment contests, competitions, and exhibitions showcasing unique magical tools.
And, as with any festival, food and drink stalls—some serving alcohol—were set up.
In addition to vendors from the commercial district, cadets themselves often ran stalls.
Recalling the joy of eating and drinking at last year’s festival, Lee Suyeon’s face brightened.
But she quickly remembered that this year she was in charge of the first-years, and her expression darkened.
Being in charge didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the festival, but she wouldn’t have the same carefree experience as last year.
“......”
“......”
As the discussion about the Birth Festival continued, two people remained completely uninvolved: Riana and Atra.
Riana listened intently, her eyes blinking curiously at the conversations around her, while Atra sat with her eyes closed.
Neither of them spoke.
It wasn’t that they chose not to participate—they simply couldn’t find a way to join in.
"...Professor Atra, don’t you have any opinions?"
Riana, glancing around, leaned over to whisper to Atra, who opened her eyes and looked at her.
Atra wasn’t a graduate of Siyoram.
She had attended the British Academy. While they had festivals there, Atra had spent her time obsessively training in the practice rooms—a self-professed training maniac.
"I don’t. I’d have to know something to offer an opinion. Besides, shouldn’t you have something to say? You’ve experienced it firsthand."
"...Me? Uh, no, not really... I don’t have any opinions either."
Riana drew out her words, evading the question.
She was a Siyoram graduate, having experienced the Birth Festival four times from her first to fourth years.
But Riana hadn’t enjoyed the festivals.
While others set up stalls and participated in competitions, Riana buried herself in books at the library or played with spirits in deserted areas.
Despite many wanting to spend time with her—especially as she continuously ranked first during her time at the academy—she had rarely accepted their invitations.
Back then, before experiencing the bitterness of the Demon Realm, Riana had a personality that was difficult to describe.
In any case, both Atra and Riana were far removed from the word “festival.”
And since there was no real-time sharing of Lee Hayul’s Tower Entry, they both found themselves idle.
Riana, at least, had her duties as the Spring Division’s head, but Atra had nothing to occupy her time.
Thus, while Riana busily handled tasks, Atra spent her time pondering Lee Hayul’s training schedule.
- Crackle...
"...Huh?"
A hologram appeared above the table.
The display showed ripples as the entrance to the tower slowly opened.
Everyone’s eyes widened at the sight. It was the afternoon of the fourth day of the Tower Entry. There was still a full day left before it was scheduled to end.
"Who’s coming out? Wait a second, let me check the records..."
Some professors hastily flipped through the holograms.
"...Cadet Lee Hayul?"
One professor voiced their confusion aloud.
Before the words had even finished, Atra and Riana shot to their feet.
On the screen, Lee Hayul staggered out of the tower’s entrance, teetering precariously.
Both of their hearts sank.
That fragile, precious little cadet—what had he gone through this time to exit the tower prematurely? And why was he swaying like that again?
Suppressing their rising unease, they bolted toward the tower entrance.
"...!?"
Atra, leading the way, suddenly halted.
Her body, instinctively ready to lunge forward, froze in place.
She wanted to rush to Hayul’s side immediately and check on him.
"...What is..."
The hair on the back of her neck stood on end.
Instinct warned her not to approach. Her accumulated experience screamed danger, forcing her to stop.
Lee Hayul’s presence had changed.
The once faint and fluctuating aura had undergone a dramatic transformation.
It felt as though the aura had taken on a tangible, blade-like form, shredding everything around it.
A phantom sensation of a cold blade at her neck sent chills down her spine.
Even Atra, seasoned and composed, found her body stiffening under the oppressive aura.
A bead of cold sweat rolled down her cheek.
"My God."
"...What happened in the tower?"
Riana and the other professors, who had followed her out, froze as well, overwhelmed by the ferocity of Lee Hayul’s aura.
A strange standoff continued.
When someone swallowed dryly,
[Teacher?]
[Professor Riana?]
The necklace around Lee Hayul’s neck clicked, and a stuttering, noise-filled voice emanated from it.
At the same time, the menacing aura dissipated.
Lee Hayul’s unusually cold demeanor softened, and his previously round, gentle expression returned.
While others fumbled with confusion at the sudden change, Lee Hayul began walking forward.
A few people remained tense, unable to relax after the earlier oppressive atmosphere.
But Lee Hayul paid them no mind, heading in a straight line toward his destination.
Finally, he buried his face into Atra’s arms.
"...?"
Atra, who had also been frozen in place, blinked in surprise.
Lee Hayul had thrown himself into her embrace.
Her body reacted instinctively.
She opened her arms without hesitation, pulling him close.
Wrapping an arm around his waist and placing a hand gently on his head, she stroked him softly.
In response to her touch, Hayul nestled deeper into her arms.
Holding Hayul in her embrace wasn’t anything unusual.
With that thought, she comforted the cadet who was clinging to her like a child seeking solace.
"What happened this time...?"
Riana, who had approached as well, shared Atra’s sentiment.
She didn’t understand why Hayul was acting this way, but she quickly moved to comfort him. Stroking his hair and back, she focused on soothing the distressed cadet.
"...It’s heartwarming to see such a close bond between mentor and student, but could we perhaps address the situation first?"
"Huh?"
"Oh?"
"While it’s not my place to comment on personal matters... isn’t this a bit too much physical contact for such an open setting?"
It had gone on for quite some time.
Professor Alberoth’s interruption finally snapped the two professors out of their daze.
As they lifted their heads and glanced around, they noticed the peculiar looks being directed their way.
"Oh my..."
Among the curious gazes, many carried intrigue. Lee Suyeon, in particular, widened her eyes and covered her mouth with one hand, letting out a soft exclamation of admiration.
In the once-chaotic battlefield filled with deafening explosions, silence had descended.
The wasteland, already barren and desolate, had become an unusable wasteland of rubble and ruin.
Deep craters, ruptures, and fractures marred the landscape—evidence of countless collisions between weapons and expansion abilities.
Sitting atop a mound of displaced earth, the second iteration absently traced its fingers over its shoulder.
Pain lingered.
A wound ran from its right shoulder down to its left hip.
For the second iteration, this wasn’t anything new.
It bore countless scars from its life. Some were residual effects of old injuries, while others, though functional, left hideous marks on its body.
Even a robust adult might faint at the sight of the second iteration’s grotesque visage.
"Hah..."
Yet now, the second iteration felt a complex mix of emotions toward this particular wound.
Even though it had deliberately suppressed its physical abilities to match Hayul’s...
This was a wound inflicted by the “real thing.” A wound that, under normal circumstances, should have been impossible to receive.
The wound served as the proof of the trial’s success, and the real one had just exited the tower.
In truth, its mental reserves were nearly depleted, so the second iteration had planned to pause anyway.
"...Haha..."
Running a hand over the wound, the second iteration couldn’t help but feel the gap between the fake and the real.
All the techniques and skills it had honed over countless struggles in pools of blood—Hayul had crudely acquired them in just a few days.
The sheer disparity was overwhelming, eliciting a hollow laugh.
Then again, was it even accurate to refer to itself as having a “life”? The fake was never the real thing.
"...Such a restless one."
As it traced its wound, the second iteration muttered to itself. The words were inaudible. There was no vibration, no flow of mana.
But the second iteration’s senses, its mastery of Ten Thousand Techniques, detected a change. The presence behind it hadn’t bothered to conceal itself.
Without turning around, it continued speaking.
"How absurd. Back when I was desperately searching, not a single hair of yours was visible, and now that I’m a damned ghost, you show your face?"
No response came. The presence remained silent.
"Why show yourself only to stay quiet? If that’s the case, you might as well crawl back into hiding. Or is it that you’re here to mock me for this pathetic state?"
『G...! C...!』
A strange sound resonated in response to the second iteration’s dry question.
What was it? Like hearing muffled sounds underwater, except far more distorted and incomprehensible.
"What nonsense... I’ll just lament on my own."
Scratching its ear, the second iteration shook its head.
"I understand the current approach. It’s better to hurt now and be happy later than to lose everything in misery at the end."
Having faced the real Hayul directly, the second iteration was well aware that Hayul’s pain perception was fully implemented. Yet, it hadn’t held back.
Stopping for such a reason would have been a waste of this opportunity. The figure behind it, bowing its head, likely thought the same.
Indeed, Hayul had returned with more than enough results—results that exceeded expectations to the point of ridicule.
Though still inexperienced, Hayul would undoubtedly grow and wield those results on his own.
An absurd existence.
Even so, the second iteration couldn’t help but reflect on the choices made by the Tower Lords...
It stopped mid-thought, memories flooding its mind.
A life both long and short, thick and thin.
An existence as a mere shell, never truly alive.
"...I understand. Given your position, this was the best, most efficient, and most certain choice."
The figure behind it remained silent.
"But no matter how much I understand, I hate you all."
Crunch... Strength surged into its hand, veins bulging over its scarred knuckles.
"I understand that your intentions were good, that you didn’t mean for me to suffer this much, that this was the best path. But... I cannot bring myself to like you."
Birth, growth, yearning, frustration, helplessness, desperation, impatience, death...
The second iteration, or rather, Lee Hayul, reflected on its life. A life of hardship and mediocrity.
Nothing had been achieved. It lacked the skill to match its ambitions.
Despite pouring everything into its struggle—scraping, clawing, and fighting—it still fell short and died disgracefully.
Even that wretched life hadn’t truly been its own.
It was merely a potential path, accidentally observed.
That fact was unbearably bitter. It felt as though its painstakingly fought-for life had been denied.
No, it had been denied. Its life wasn’t real.
『......』
There was no reply.
Perhaps the figure couldn’t speak, or perhaps it could but felt too ashamed to respond. It simply bowed its head, silently accepting the blame.
Noticing this, the second iteration let out a deep sigh.
"...Even so, I don’t wish for you to be punished to the point of death."
As much as it hated them, their actions weren’t wrong.
If the plan succeeded, the world wouldn’t end, and the real Lee Hayul would finally live the happy life he had always desired.
The presence behind it trembled. Perhaps it hadn’t expected such words.
"So help properly. You don’t have a way out either, do you?"
The second iteration... no, Lee Hayul, wasn’t someone who wished for others to suffer just because he had.
"At least let the real one be happy."
As the conversation drew to a close, Lee Hayul’s body began dissolving into light.
Meanwhile, inside the shared training room of the Tower of Growth...
"Yeonhwa, could I have a word with you about Hayul?"
"...About Hayul?"
At Elia’s question, accompanied by a light clap of her hands, Hong Yeonhwa’s expression turned sour.