Chapter 153: The World Responds
The Empire was not the only nation watching the Tower.
For nearly two weeks, humanity’s attention had remained fixed upon the colossal structure dominating the horizon. Initially, most governments focused inward. Emergency meetings were held. Military preparations were organized. Scholars were mobilized. Every nation sought to understand the situation before making decisions. Yet now the first reports from inside the Tower had become public knowledge. The existence of the First Floor civilization. The passage of time. The rewards granted to survivors. The information spread across the continent with unstoppable momentum.
And the world responded.
Far beyond the borders of the Empire, kings, queens, saints, warlords, and scholars reached the same conclusion.
The Tower was real.
The rewards were real.
And whoever understood the Tower first would gain an advantage that could reshape history.
Within the Holy Dominion, one of the oldest religious powers on the continent, the atmosphere inside the Grand Cathedral had become increasingly tense. Hundreds of priests filled the massive chamber while sacred candles illuminated ancient murals depicting the gods of creation. At the center of the gathering stood the High Saintess herself, a woman whose authority rivaled monarchs. Before her rested dozens of reports gathered from spies, merchants, and official diplomatic channels.
"The Imperial Reconnaissance Unit survived."
A priest lowered his head respectfully.
"Partially."
The Saintess remained silent.
The reports contained enough information to disturb even her.
Entire worlds.
Civilizations.
Rewards.
The heavenly announcement itself already challenged countless religious doctrines. Now the existence of people living inside the Tower raised even more questions.
Who created them?
Did they possess souls?
Were they truly alive?
Or were they merely constructs?
The Saintess slowly closed the report.
"The Church’s position remains unchanged."
Several senior priests immediately listened attentively.
"We observe."
The Saintess turned toward a stained-glass window overlooking the distant horizon.
"We investigate."
Her gaze hardened slightly.
"And eventually..."
A faint glow appeared within her eyes.
"...we enter."
Silence followed.
Nobody questioned the decision.
The Holy Dominion had survived centuries by adapting to change rather than resisting it. If the Tower truly represented a new age, then the Church would ensure it remained relevant within that age.
Thousands of kilometers away, within the Beast Kingdom, the reaction proved significantly different.
The royal palace resembled a fortress more than a residence. Massive stone walls surrounded the capital while banners bearing beast insignias fluttered beneath powerful winds. Unlike many human nations, the Beast Kingdom valued strength above nearly everything else.
Naturally, the rewards fascinated them.
A towering lionkin warrior crushed a wooden table with one hand while reading reports regarding the Imperial survivors.
"They became stronger."
The king’s golden eyes gleamed.
"Simply by surviving?"
A military officer nodded.
"According to every available source."
The king laughed loudly.
A genuine laugh.
The kind produced by someone who found the situation exciting rather than terrifying.
"Excellent."
Several advisors exchanged worried glances.
The king continued.
"Prepare our strongest warriors."
"Your Majesty?"
"We’re going to challenge the Tower eventually."
His grin widened.
"If strength is its reward, then we have no reason to fear it."
Throughout the Beast Kingdom, similar reactions emerged. Warriors viewed the Tower as an opportunity. Hunters viewed it as the ultimate challenge. Adventurers viewed it as a path toward glory.
The concept of risk barely entered their calculations.
Meanwhile, within the Merchant Federation, entirely different priorities dominated discussion.
The Federation possessed no emperor.
No king.
No supreme ruler.
Instead, merchant lords controlled one of the wealthiest regions on the continent through commerce and influence. Their meetings rarely focused on military matters.
Today proved no exception.
Inside a luxurious conference hall, dozens of merchant leaders sat around a circular table while financial projections floated above enchanted displays.
The numbers were astonishing.
One elderly merchant adjusted his glasses.
"The Tower settlement population has tripled within a week."
Another nodded.
"Projected growth remains exponential."
Trade routes.
Equipment sales.
Food supplies.
Transportation.
Accommodation.
Every category displayed extraordinary potential.
One merchant eventually smiled.
"The Tower may become the most profitable location in recorded history."
Several others immediately agreed.
While warriors focused on strength and kings focused on power, merchants focused on opportunity.
And opportunities rarely became larger than this.
The Tower wasn’t simply attracting adventurers.
It was attracting entire economies.
Throughout the Federation, preparations had already begun. Caravans were organized. Investments secured. New businesses established.
The merchants intended to profit from the age of climbers.
They had no intention of being left behind.
Even the secluded Elven Forests eventually reacted.
For centuries, the elves maintained limited involvement in continental politics. Their isolation allowed them to avoid many conflicts affecting neighboring nations. Yet even they couldn’t ignore the Tower forever.
Within a sacred grove hidden deep inside ancient forests, several elder elves gathered beneath enormous silver trees.
The atmosphere remained noticeably solemn.
Unlike other races, elves possessed exceptionally long lifespans.
Perspective came naturally to them.
One elder slowly opened his eyes.
"The world is changing."
Simple words.
Profound meaning.
Another elder nodded.
"We felt it immediately."
Mana throughout the continent had shifted dramatically since the Tower’s arrival. Ancient forests reacted strangely. Magical creatures behaved differently. Even the world’s natural rhythms seemed altered.
The eldest elf gazed toward the distant horizon.
Though hidden by mountains and distance, he knew the Tower stood there.
Waiting.
Watching.
"It will affect everyone."
Nobody disagreed.
The Tower’s influence transcended borders.
It transcended politics.
It transcended race.
For perhaps the first time in centuries, every major civilization faced the same challenge.
Understanding the unknown.
Back within the Empire, Aurelion spent much of the week reviewing international intelligence reports. Spies, diplomats, and merchants continuously supplied information regarding foreign reactions. The overall pattern became increasingly obvious.
Nobody intended to ignore the Tower.
Nobody.
Some nations approached cautiously.
Others aggressively.
Yet all of them moved toward the same destination.
The realization felt inevitable.
The Tower had become the center of the world.
Every road now led toward it.
One afternoon, Aurelion found himself inside the Imperial Intelligence Headquarters alongside several analysts. Massive maps covered entire walls while enchanted markers displayed recent movements throughout the continent.
One officer pointed toward multiple locations.
"These are confirmed expedition groups."
Aurelion examined the display.
There were many.
Far more than expected.
The Empire.
The Holy Dominion.
The Beast Kingdom.
Merchant organizations.
Independent adventurer alliances.
Everyone was mobilizing.
The officer continued.
"We estimate dozens of groups will reach the Tower within the next month."
The room remained quiet.
Dozens.
And that was merely the beginning.
Aurelion understood the implications immediately.
Competition.
Humanity hadn’t even explored Floor Two.
Yet competition was already emerging.
Different organizations would gather information.
Acquire rewards.
Discover secrets.
Not everyone would share those discoveries willingly.
The Tower would inevitably become a battlefield of interests.
Political interests.
Economic interests.
Military interests.
The age of climbers wouldn’t eliminate conflict.
It would transform conflict.
The thought remained with him long after the briefing concluded.
Later that evening, he traveled toward one of the highest observation platforms overlooking the capital. The sun was setting, bathing the city in golden light while countless citizens continued their daily activities below.
Normal life.
At least on the surface.
Yet beneath that normality, change continued accelerating.
People trained harder.
Dreamed bigger.
Planned further.
The Tower had altered aspirations themselves.
A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Thinking again?"
Aurelion smiled faintly.
Grand Duke Caelion.
Of course.
The older man joined him near the railing.
For several moments, both observed the city.
Then Caelion spoke.
"The entire continent is moving."
It wasn’t a question.
A statement.
Aurelion nodded.
"Yes."
"Faster than expected."
"Also yes."
The Grand Duke laughed softly.
"Sometimes I forget how predictable people are."
Aurelion raised an eyebrow.
"You sound disappointed."
"Not disappointed."
Caelion folded his arms.
"Just impressed."
His gaze shifted toward the distant horizon.
"The Tower appears."
"Nobody understands it."
"People die."
"People get stronger."
A grin appeared.
"And humanity immediately decides to jump inside."
The summary wasn’t entirely inaccurate.
Aurelion found himself laughing.
The situation truly was absurd when viewed from that perspective.
Yet it also felt deeply human.
Civilization advanced because people chased possibilities.
Even dangerous possibilities.
Especially dangerous possibilities.
Darkness gradually spread across the landscape while lights illuminated throughout the city below. In the distance, the Celestial Tower continued dominating the horizon.
Silent.
Motionless.
Unchanged.
Yet its influence reached every corner of the world.
Kings discussed it.
Merchants invested in it.
Warriors trained for it.
Scholars studied it.
Children dreamed about it.
The Tower no longer belonged to any single nation.
It belonged to history itself.
And as Aurelion gazed toward the impossible structure beneath the evening sky, he understood something important.
The first stage was over.
Humanity had discovered the Tower.
Humanity had tested the Tower.
Humanity had tasted its rewards.
Now came the next stage.
The race.
The race to understand it.
The race to conquer it.
The race to climb higher than everyone else.
And like all races, it would produce winners.
It would produce losers.
And it would almost certainly produce tragedy.
The age of climbers had not officially begun.
But the world was already running.
[To Be Continued]
