Chapter 57: The Return to Celestial Peak
The guild transport rumbled along the dirt road, leaving Ashwick and the Tower of Ash behind. Through the rear window, Nathan watched the black tower shrink against the morning sky, its crimson mana veins pulsing with that same steady, indifferent rhythm. It looked smaller from a distance. Less menacing. But he knew better now. He’d felt its heat, breathed its ash, watched his party’s summons shatter one by one.
Old Marren had taken one look at their faces when they boarded and grunted. Garrett’s hollow eyes, Dillon’s silence, the way Nathan cradled his hand. He didn’t speak for the entire five-hour journey, and that was exactly what they needed.
The silence in the bus was different now. On the ride out, it had been filled with anticipation, nerves, excitement, and tension. Now there was only the quiet of shared exhaustion. It wasn’t the silence of grief, but the calm that came after surviving something difficult.
Nathan sat near the back, hand resting on his summon mark. The warmth beneath his palm was steadier now than it had been in Ashwick. Mirko’s presence pulsed faintly. a distant heartbeat, a whisper of green light. She hadn’t spoken again since the carrots, but he could feel her there. Recovering. Rebuilding herself piece by piece within the mark.
Kuro was in bunny form on his shoulder. She had refused to be desummoned. When Nathan had suggested it she had refused with a quiet finality.
’I will not enter the mark while Mirko is in this state,’ she had said. ’I am not strong enough to witness her in shattered light particles’
Nathan had filed that away. The inside of the summon mark had a space. Somewhere his summons existed when they weren’t manifested. He had never thought about it before, summons went in, summons came out. That was the extent of his understanding. But Kuro’s words suggested something more.
Garrett stared out the window, forehead against the glass. Dillon dozed fitfully, katana close, summon mark flickering with faint static. Elise sat near the front, interface open, scrolling through Tower of Ash data. Floor layouts. Enemy distributions. Heat thresholds. Already planning. Already preparing.
Nathan closed his eyes. The bus rumbled on. Somewhere ahead, the capital was waiting for them to return Home.
---
Celestial Peak’s observatory was warm.
After the volcanic hell of the Tower of Ash, the simple comfort of stone walls and gardens and the faint hum of the guild’s wards felt like stepping into another world. The koi pond glittered in the afternoon sun. Climbers crossed the courtyard, some returning from missions, others heading out. Normal life. Continuing on, indifferent to one party’s failure.
Helena met them at the entrance. Her Thunderbird perched on a nearby lamppost, blue feathers crackling with residual static. She took one look at the party, at their faces, their silence, the absence of the easy banter that had marked their departure... and she didn’t say any of the things a lesser liaison might have said. No empty reassurance. No false cheer.
"Valerie’s waiting," she said simply. "And don’t confuse her worry for anger. That would be an easy mistake to make."
She turned and led them inside.
---
Valerie Mayfeather’s office was as cluttered as ever. Tower maps covered the walls, some marked with fresh annotations. Boris the Yeti snored in the corner in his small form. The TUFF GRANNY mug steamed on the desk, filling the room with the scent of strong tea.
Valerie listened.
Nathan gave the full debrief. Floor by floor. The Ember Hounds and Cinder Bats—manageable, if draining. The Magma Crawlers on Floor 6, and Garrett’s slowed movements after the venom bite. The collapsing platform on Floor 7, and Red’s shattering as he saved his master. The vertical vent on Floor 8, and the Cloud Serpent’s sacrifice. Floor 9—the Elite Magma Centipedes, their terrifying coordination, the way they’d baited Mirko’s [Aegis Strike] and struck from behind. The green light of her forced recall. The extraction.
He was honest about his own failures. Pushing too hard. Not extracting sooner. Letting his determination override his judgment.
When he finished, Valerie was quiet for a long moment. She leaned back in her chair, leather creaking, and stared at the ceiling as if consulting some private archive of past failures.
"You know how many times I extracted from a Tower before I cleared my first Elite Class?"
She didn’t wait for an answer.
"Six. Six times." She held up her hand, fingers spread. "I got my ass handed to me by monsters that weren’t half as tough as what you faced. My first Elite attempt, I walked into a nest of Frost Wyrms with a party of five. Thought I was hot shit. Had a new axe. Had my summon. Had a whole speech prepared." She snorted. "We extracted on Floor 3. Two summons shattered. One broken arm."
She leaned forward, sharp eyes finding Nathan’s.
"Every time I extracted, I learned something. Every time I failed, I got better. That’s not failure. That’s climbing. The only real failure is not getting back up."
She let the words settle. Then her expression shifted, still warm, but with a new edge. The sternness of a leader who cared enough to be honest.
"But for the sake of leadership, I must berate you for your mistakes."
The party tensed.
"Nathan." Her voice was firm but not cruel. "You’ve naturally been acting as your party’s leader, and you’ve done well up to this point. But it was your mistake not to gauge your party’s limits properly. The moment Red shattered, you should have considered extraction. The moment the Cloud Serpent followed, you should have made the call. A leader’s job isn’t just to push forward—it’s to know when to pull back. You pushed because you wanted to win. I understand that. But wanting to win isn’t the same as being ready to win."
Nathan absorbed the words. They stung. But they were true.
She turned. "Garrett."
Garrett straightened like a cadet called to attention.
"You’re older than them. A little more experienced. After Red shattered, you should have spoken up. You should have voiced your concerns. Instead, you went silent. I understand grief. But in the field, your voice matters just as much as your mace. You’re the weakest among the party in terms of ranking, yes—"
Garrett flinched
"but you’re very much just as important. Don’t forget that. And don’t let your grief silence you next time."
Garrett nodded slowly. His hand moved to his summon mark. "I won’t."
Valerie held his gaze for a moment, then nodded. The sternness faded, replaced by the warmth that was her default. She reached into her desk and pulled out a small wooden box.
"Now that the scolding’s done."
She opened the box. Inside, on a bed of velvet, were three Heal Crystals. Small. Pale blue. Their surfaces pulsed with a soft, restorative light that made the air around them hum.
"For the summons," Valerie said. "Crush them over the summon marks. They’ll cut the recovery time by more than half. Two to three days instead of seven."
Nathan stared at the crystals. Heal Crystals were rare, expensive. The kind of resource guilds reserved for their top Climbers. Their veterans. Not for fresh recruits who’d failed their first mission.
"I don’t know what to say," Nathan managed.
Valerie’s face broke into a grin. "Saying ’thank you’ usually works." She winked a cheerful, grandmotherly gesture utterly at odds with the sharp-eyed veteran who’d just dissected their failures. "Alright now, off with you all. Rest. Recover. Train. You’ve got a Tower to clear in a few days, and I expect to see a better result."
---
The TCA forge wing smelled of metal and ozone, same as always. Nathan walked the familiar corridor, his new bow waiting at the end.
Vex was exactly where he’d left her. Hunched over her workbench, Ember the Molten Sprite dancing around her shoulders. The rhythmic clang of her hammer paused when she heard his footsteps. She pushed up her goggles, red eyes finding him immediately.
"Well, well. The Bunny King returns." She set down her hammer. "Heard about the Tower of Ash. Bad luck."
"Bad planning."
"Same thing, different words." She wiped her hands on her rag. "Your bow’s done. Just added the finishing touch this morning. Been waiting for you to show up."
Nathan wondered, not for the first time, how Vex was always so updated. She wasn’t a Climber anymore. Not in his party or his guild. But she always knew when he’d failed, succeeded, when he was coming. He filed the thought away.
Vex gestured to the wall behind her.
The bow hung on a rack. Beautiful—more than beautiful. The Tyrant’s Eye had been integrated into the riser, a swirling orb of silver mist and shadow that seemed to shift when Nathan looked at it directly, as if the veil itself had been frozen in the moment of its defeat and set into the wood. The limbs were Shadowsteel, dark and gleaming, their curves elegant and lethal. The string was silver thread, humming faintly with contained energy.
Nathan lifted it from the rack. The grip settled into his palm like it had been carved for his hand alone. The weight was perfect—heavier than his borrowed bow, but balanced. The string hummed when he touched it, resonating with the Leyline Ring on his finger.
"B-Rank," Vex said, crossing her arms. "Pushed it as far as the materials would go. The Eye gives it veil-piercing properties—illusions, mist, visual obstruction. That volcanic haze in the Tower of Ash? Won’t be a problem. Shadowsteel limbs increase draw weight and velocity. Silver string improves mana conductivity. Your [Mana Arrows] will hit harder. Your [Focus Shot] will charge faster."
She paused, studying the bow with the critical eye of a craftswoman never quite satisfied.
"Could’ve pushed it to A-Rank if I’d had another week and better materials. Maybe. But you needed it now."
"It’s perfect," Nathan said. "What’s its name?"
"Didn’t give it one. That’s your job."
Nathan studied the swirling Tyrant’s Eye. The silver mist inside shifted endlessly, caught in a loop of eternal motion. It reminded him of the Colosseum’s veil. Of the way light bent around it. Of the moon through the observatory dome on the night he’d joined Celestial Peak.
"Moonlight," he said.
Vex snorted. "Dramatic. I like it." She turned back to her workbench. "Now get out. I have actual work to do. Try not to break that one."
