Chapter 72: The Rematch Begins!
Ashwick appeared in the early afternoon. The village was unchanged—the central square with its stone well, the handful of scattered houses, the scarcity of modern vehicles along the dirt roads. A few old mana-powered cars sat near the inn, but most of the village’s infrastructure was simpler than the capital’s.
The Tower of Ash dominated the eastern sky, its black spire a constant presence. Heat shimmers warped the air around its peak.
Marta saw them coming from her doorway. She set down the sack of potatoes she’d been hauling, wiped her hands on her apron, and planted them firmly on her hips. Her grey hair was pulled back in its usual practical bun. Her expression was a mix of surprise, relief, and admiration.
"Well, well. Look who’s back."
Her voice was gruff, but there was unmistakable warmth beneath it.
"Was wondering when you lot would show up again." She stepped aside and held the door open. "Most parties that escape that tower never come back. Get scared off. Find easier Towers. But you..." She studied them as they approached. "You look different. Steadier. Like you’ve been through something and come out the other side."
"We have, ma’am," Nathan said. "We’re here to clear it."
Marta studied him for a long moment. Then she nodded slowly, a small smile cracking her weathered face. "I believe you. Same rooms as last time. Stew’s on the stove. It’ll be ready soon." She paused at the door. "I just had the AC unit fixed, so Cool off before you get into that hot environment."
---
The inn’s common room was warm and quiet. The AC unit hummed softly in the corner, blowing cool air that was a welcome relief despite the volcanic heat radiating from the Tower even at this distance. Electric lamps cast soft light across the wooden tables. A small television was mounted near the ceiling, tuned to a TCA broadcast channel.
The party gathered at their usual table near the window. The Tower of Ash was visible through the glass as a black silhouette against the darkening sky, its crimson veins pulsing with that same steady rhythm. But now, instead of a monument to failure, it felt like a challenge they were finally ready to answer.
They reviewed the floor layout one last time, the dossier spread across the table.
"Floors 1 and 2," Nathan said, tracing the diagram. "Ember Hounds and Cinder Bats."
"Floors 3 and 4," Elise continued. "Magma Serpents. We know their patterns now. Freeze the lava, target the cores. The Frost Golem is fully regenerated and stronger with some enchantments I put on It, It won’t sublimate this time."
"Floor 5." Dillon tapped the map. "The Magma Serpent Alpha. We killed it last time, but it cost us too much. This time, we finish it faster. Hit-and-run. Don’t let it pin us down."
"Floor 6," Garrett said. "The Magma Crawlers. Tight corridors. Venomous. I’ll carry extra antitoxin potions. Red’s wool is better adapted now after fighting them once, he won’t struggle as much in the heat."
"Floor 7," Nathan said. "Unstable platforms. Magma Serpents and Ember Hounds together. Garrett, you called the ambush last time before I did. Keep doing that."
Garrett nodded firmly. "I will."
"Floor 8." Elise’s finger rested on the diagram. "Vertical vent. Cinder Bats and Crawlers. The Cloud Serpent is fully recovered. It’ll intercept the bats before they can dive."
"Floor 9," Dillon said, his voice quieting. "The Magma Centipedes. Three of them. Coordinated. They baited Mirko’s Aegis Strike and flanked her from behind. That’s where everything fell apart last time."
Nathan met his eyes. "This time, we bait them. Mirko holds one. Elise freezes one. Kuro assassinates one. We isolate them instead of letting them coordinate. No more fighting them on their terms."
"And Floor 10," Garrett said. "The Pyre Wyrm."
The name hung in the air. The final boss. The reason no one had full-cleared the Tower of Ash in three years.
"We know its mechanics," Nathan said. "Heat-based attacks. Lava manipulation. A core only exposed after a certain damage threshold. It’s not unbeatable. It’s just hard."
"We’ve beaten hard before," Dillon said.
"Yes." Nathan looked around the table. "We have."
Marta appeared with bowls of stew. She set them down without ceremony. "Eat. You’ll need your strength tomorrow. That Pyre Wyrm doesn’t care if you’ve had a good night’s sleep, but I do."
Nathan took a spoonful. The stew was as good as he remembered: hearty, spiced, the kind of food that stuck to your ribs. "Thank you, Ma’am."
Marta waved a hand. "Thank me by clearing that Tower. It’s been looming over this village for three years now. Be nice to see it tamed for once." She paused. "And bring back something from the boss. A scale or something. I’ll hang it on the wall. Good for business."
Nathan almost smiled. "We’ll see what we can do."
The party ate in comfortable silence. When the bowls were empty and the evening had deepened into true night, Nathan pushed back from the table.
"The first time we climbed the Tower of Ash, we weren’t ready. We pushed too hard. We didn’t extract when we should have. Summons shattered. We retreated. And that loss could have broken us."
He looked at each of them in turn: Garrett, Dillon, Elise. Mirko in her small green form on the table. Kuro, a silent black shape on the windowsill.
"But it didn’t. We trained. We grew stronger, not just individually, but as a team. This time is different. We know the enemy patterns personally. We know the heat thresholds. We know when to push and when to hold back."
He paused.
"We clear it. No extraction. No shattered summons. Just victory."
Garrett raised his mug of matcha. "To the rematch."
The party raised theirs: Dillon’s coffee, Elise’s tea, Nathan’s water. "To the rematch."
Outside the window, the Tower of Ash gleamed against the night sky. Tomorrow, they would climb it. Tomorrow, they would reclaim their honor.
Tonight, they rested.
---
Dawn came grey and gold.
The party assembled at the Tower of Ash’s entrance: the yawning archway of volcanic stone, the portal shimmering with heat. The air was already oppressive, waves of dry, ashen heat radiating from the Tower’s maw. The crimson mana veins in its black spire pulsed with the same steady rhythm they’d been pulsing with for three years.
But something was different this time. The Winterhart cloaks were fresh, fully restored, their enchantments reinforced by a Celestial Peak enchanter Valerie had personally commissioned. They shined in the morning light. Elise’s Frost Golem stood ready, eight feet of crystalline ice radiating cold in defiance of the Tower’s heat. Its mass was fully regenerated.
Dillon’s Cloud Serpent crackled around his shoulders, scales gleaming. It had been restless all morning. Garrett’s Mad-Sheep Red snorted steam, its crimson wool already adapting to the heat, armored plates hardening and softening in rhythm with its breathing.
Mirko shifted to humanoid form in a burst of green light. Her D-Rank sword gleamed, the silver filigree of her armor catching the morning sun. Her pink eyes were fixed on the portal, fierce and steady.
’Master. This time, I will not fall.’
"I know. None of us will."
Kuro remained within Nathan’s summon mark, she would materialize when needed, but for now, she observed. Nathan could feel her presence, silent and watchful.
He drew Moonlight. The Tyrant’s Eye swirled in the riser. The Shadowsteel limbs gleamed. The silver string hummed.
"Everyone knows their roles," Nathan said. His voice was calm, but there was steel beneath it. "We’ve trained for this. We’ve bled for this. We’ve spent weeks rebuilding ourselves for this. Now we finish it."
He stepped toward the portal. The heat washed over him: dry, ashen, familiar. It no longer felt oppressive. It felt like a challenge he was ready to answer.
The party followed him through. The portal swallowed them, and the Tower of Ash welcomed them back.
"Time to wash away our failure."
