The Tower of Emnu

“I got him!”

Merlin looked up from his perch 30 steps up the stairs to this passage to the second level. Everyone in his team was in position, ready to intercept the Cultivator once the rest of the hunt had found him.

Everyone but Morris. He had no idea what had possessed him, when he had invited the Archer into his team. No, that was not true and not fair, Morris was an amazing Archer with synergistic skills, enhancing his damage and range by multitudes, making him one of, if not the most potent Vessel damage dealer in his generation. It was just that he was entirely useless when it did not come to shooting stuff from far away really hard. He was also an Earther like him and his kind had no discipline compared to the rest of his team.

His two Warriors, Atris and Beresix stood both in plate armor like statues at the foot of the stairs, their hands on their weapons. They were always ready and alert, his healer Krathak had his staff out and was crouched behind them in cover. Textbook formation, classic and never wrong. Melia was skulking around to his right somewhere, her skills making her almost invisible in the shadow of the great big trees. But Merlin could sense her clear enough. She still disturbed the magic around her and until she learned a skill or trick to help with that she would never be a real threat to other mages with a modicum of skill.

Like all Mages, Merlin Aster formed the center of the group, he was their leader, but also the most crucial part of it. Merlin was unlike any other mage climbing the tower for the last 20 years a force mage. Instead of elements he had taken a liking to the most basic and fundamental of spells. How to imbue things with kinetic energy. He had seen the spell books that might await him if he got into a good college in Ambition. Force balls, Force shields and no shortage of different fundamental Force spells which could be manipulated and chained together to make him a monster of a thousand arms, a thousand blades who could hit harder than a tank and could snuff out lives from a hundred paces away with a gesture.

But Merlin was nowhere close to that level. He had one spell which had broken into intermediary mastery. The spell was colloquially known as push. But in fact he could push and pull with it and it was more a very rudimentary form of telekinesis. That was the reason why his leather armor was adorned with throwing daggers without hilts. His weapons of choice and deadly projectiles. His second spell was a force sling of sort that could lock down or trip enemies, as it was entirely invisible to someone who could not sense mana.

He set up their kills and besides Morris he was their damage dealer like all mages in Climber Teams. But he was more defensive minded in forming his team than others and had snagged not only some of the best Tower born fighters, but also a rare Healer Vessel who could keep both of them alive. Melia was more of a mercenary, befitting of her [Rogue] class, but she was a masterful scout and absolutely deadly in melee. Her wide range of invisibility and movement skills had made exploration so much easier with her in his team, he would never let her go now.

But Merlin could not compare to the damage dealers in most Teams based in Ambition. His spells were simply too reliant on his throwing daggers and did not pack enough of a punch to climb beyond the 15th level.

So he and his team were stuck doing low level missions between Ambition and the Town of Beginnings. A thankless job that paid well enough. And money, manastones, were all he wanted right now. With them he could buy better tomes, learn more spells and eventually when he had saved up enough, a spot in one of the Colleges. He could also buy time for his team to progress safely, by joining bigger hunts to kill higher level beasts. That Vessels leveled up from killing things was absolutely unfair compared to what Merlin had to do to 'level up' so to say as a mage.

But his parents had named him right. Merlin would have never traded anything for becoming a mage.

Still sometimes he wondered why he had to study of all things to become stronger and not just kill things. It was so much easier to end lives compared to studying old tomes and actually understanding them.

Morris the idiot had scrambled down from his high perch on top of a giant fir tree and was running towards him excited like a golden retriever who heard a squeaky toy.

“I got him, Merlin. I shot him.”

Merlin felt a headache coming and frowned down at the young man. He would have liked to think he was older than him by at least a decade, but the fact was, their bodies were exactly the same age as they had been summoned together two years ago.

“Who did you shoot this time, Morris?” Merlin sighed and rubbed his temples.

“The Cultivator Merlin, I saw him skulking around towards that way.” He pointed to Merlin’s left.

“Took all my skills to reach him with one of the deathbolt shots, had to layer them twice, can you believe it? I hit him dead in the chest, speared him right through.” Morris animatedly mimed his shot, drawing an imaginary bow.

“Must have been a mile out, a mile Merlin. That was an A grade sniper shot. Movie stuff!”

“Morris…”

“I had to use [Eagle Eye] to even see him, can you imagine?”

“Morris!”

“Yeah, what? I did good right?” Morris asked and looked suddenly a bit unsure by the way the entire group looked at the archer.

“How do you know that was the cultivator?”

“What?”

“How did you know? We don’t know how what he looks like and without Melias identify skill we have no idea who we are hunting, yes? So how did you know it was the Cultivator you shot.”

“But...but...he...he was skulking around. I had a gut feeling Merlin, you know…”

“All I know is that this is not the first time you shoot stuff without thinking or identifying the target.”

“What? Come on, that never happens. Hahaha.” Morris laughed nervously and looked from Merlin to the others almost pleadingly.

“How about that camp of Jungle Skulkers you thought looked like the Snakes we had been tasked to kill.”

“That’s not…”

“Or the fellow you shot coming back from the 14th level.” Atris said smiling dangerously.

“Well yes, but that was an accident.”

“How can it be an accident? He was a Beast-kin not a monster.” Krathak said with a frown.

“He had fur, anyone could have gotten confused.”

Merlin shook his head and scowled down at the [Sniper].

“You remember in how much trouble we were back then right?”

“But… but I really shot the Cultivator, you got to believe me!”

Merlin shook his head in disgust.

“As if you could tell what someone’s class is by looking. Ridiculous. But oh well, you hit someone? Lets see who it was, if its not someone important we might be able to get away with it.”

The two warriors shared a look and Krathak cursed under his breath.“He needs to put a muzzle on his rabid dog.”

Merlin ignored the comment and waved towards his right, before he made the group follow Morris directions.

Melia appeared in front of them not 20 seconds later and vanished in between the trees, her feet leaving no trace in the snow. They left behind the trees and soon crossed over some open land that made Merlin mildly uncomfortable. But his team was well trained and their formation good, his two Warriors in the front, Merlin in the middle with Krathak behind and Morris keeping their back free. Much to his displeasure.

“How am I supposed to guide you when I am back here?”

“I would prefer you don’t guide us at all. A direction is more than enough for Melia.” Merlin said and Morris humphed dissatisfied.

Melia appeared before them as soon as they got close to the first giant boulders strewn about like a giants playground. The hills towered above them. Creeks had dug themselves all the way through the rock and left behind deep canyons filled with ice and snow.

“There is blood, a lot of blood, but I don’t see a corpse.” Melia’s short and terse report was as always blunt and to the point.

“Lets have a look.” Merlin said with a frown, hoping for something not to be terribly wrong for his team.

There were some protective enchantments people could buy for a lot of money that could preserve someones life and teleport them out of their current position. If that was the case then they were in deep shit. If someone could afford a charm like that on the first floor that meant their family were someone either in Ambition or higher up. But that was honestly unlikely to encounter on the first floor of the tower. They would not walk around alone and would already be halfway up the tower with a handpicked team of Towerborn Vessels. No, down here, Merlin’s team were the top dogs and not just a mediocre B rank group. Even in the worst case scenario they might be able to make the body disappear if the guy Morris had shot had been alone.

Either way they had to check it out.

Melia led them towards a giant rock that towered like a monolith above them, its deep shadow concealing a narrow canyon leading deeper into the hills. The whole rock was spluttered crimson and Merlin could see someones hand print on the rock, before the blood continued along the creek.

“Careful, guard formation, be ready.” Merlin ordered and readied his force sling, the loop forming above his head, hovering above him like a balloon on a thin string of mana.

Atris was in front, his blade drawn, his shield up as he inched forward at an even pace. They shifted to a single file guard formation, which meant Melia was behind Atris to spot and guide him. Merlin behind her to intervene and attack. Khatrak close by to heal either of their tanks injuries, Morris behind him, fulfilling the same role as Merlin just towards the back and Beresix with his axe and shield out looking behind them, copying Atris steps almost in perfect unison as his team moved through the Canyon.

This level of coordination was the reason why their team held together, why they were so effective. If only he had more oomph behind his spells they would have long reached Climbers Rest. To Merlin’s mind this kind of cooperation was the bare minimum he expected.

But he was far from the norm.

They followed hurried steps, died crimson and splutters of blood along the canyon that got narrower and narrower. Then the canyon split with another deep gulf and Atris stopped. While Melia peered over his shoulder and under his shield.

“Puddle of Blood, Arrow, no Corpse.” was all she said as she drew her daggers.

Merlin frowned, absorbing the information. Someone had been hit by Morris double layered Death bolt, had then stumbled away down this canyon with huge steps and then survived ripping out the arrow?

He had expected none of this. In his mind they were looking for a corpse. Some unlucky hunter who had been shot by his overeager idiot of an Archer. But he had doubts now and the back of his neck prickled with danger. Someone had taken that attack and had walked away.

“It looks like I have to apologize to you Morris. It seems you really hit the Cultivator.”

“See, See, I told you. I was right! Wait, why was I right?”

“Atris, push forward a bit, I want to see the Arrow.”

With a grunt of acknowledgment the heavily armored warrior stepped through the blood puddle and took up guard towards the seemingly empty canyon that was blocked at the other end. They all filtered into the canyon so they did not expose themselves to the other pathways down the crossroads of canyons.

Merlin knelt down and studied the blood, the crimson color and coppery smell turned his stomach queasy in an instant. So much blood. He forgot how much of the stuff people had in them sometimes. The blood was fresh, not congealed and the arrow was stained crimson. It was one of Morris giant Deathbolt arrows that looked like they had been shot by a small ballista, not a bow. Someone really had survived the shot.

“So what do we know about the Cultivator?” he asked, raised his hand and fired a bolt of red light into the air. The signal to show the other teams on the manhunt for the cultivator who had barely started their sweep, that they had found their target. It was a futile gesture, they were the cavalry and no other team on this level was close to their prowess. But it did not cost him anything and depending on who came they might even be good distractions for them to kill the guy.

“Movement Technique, some sort of Lightness skill, very fast, probably melee specialist. No idea what weapon he uses, killed most of his victims with a dagger he stole.” Melia said tersely and looked up.

“Right and he can take one of Morris shots and walk away. So he is tanky as well or he has good regeneration.”

“A Fast tank? Reminds me of something.” Beresix said and Merlin paused. Both he and Atris came from “Upstairs”, which meant they were born on a level higher than lvl 50 in the tower. They knew a lot, but shared very little. But when they did it was almost always important.

“Reminds you of what?” Morris asked nervously, an arrow knocked, his bow clenched tightly in his hands.

“The magical beasts on the 15th.”

Everyone cursed. Merlin included. They had ran against those beasts time and time again and to their group those beast were seemingly unkillable without dying themselves. They had stuck those beasts with so many throwing daggers and arrows it had frankly been a bit ridiculous.

“Lets hope this Cultivator is a bit less robust.” Merlin said after clearing his throat.

“There is no way he measures up to the 15th level, he has been in the tower for what? A week? No way.” Morris said and shook his head frantically.

“Cultivators work differently than Vessels or Mages. But yes, I don’t think so either. Still very dangerous. We should…”

A rumble made all of them look up and they all watched with slight disbelief as a rock, more than two men tall rolled down the cliff directly towards Beresix who brought up their end.

Aaron had climbed up on a nearby plateau and laid down on his back, feeling cold stone underneath him while he waited. He could have escaped further. But he did not want to. He wanted some payback and if they came into this terrain with him, he would have it. Already he planned a few ways to distract, obstruct and ambush any group coming for him.

It felt great to lay down and heal, to just rest for a while, but while his body relaxed, his mind was clear and crisp. It felt so good to be just alive. To not feel any pain, to just be.

Aaron sighed deeply, feeling his lungs inflate so smoothly and every single breath tasted like pure life.

He had never felt like this before. It was a strange bliss that put his existence in the Tower so far into perspective. He had not chosen to die in his old life, he had not chosen to be resurrected in his new one, but in the moment where he had been so close to death that he had felt the reapers cold touch in the back of his neck, he had chosen to live. Chosen to stay. There was a conviction now in Aaron’s chest. A will to live, to fight, to survive, come what may.

In his tranquility he still felt a searing, monstrous anger at the people who had wronged him, who were hunting him for no discernible reason. Okay, sure he had killed some of them before, but they had chosen to fight him, chosen to pursue and hunt him. He did not feel guilty about going on the offense in that situation, hell, in his old life he had never felt guilty before.

That thought stuck in his mind and once again he realized that something had changed in him, something was different with the Aaron right now and the Aaron of the past life.

His body reacted differently, his mind too. He felt strangely disconnected to his body for a moment right then and he did not like that feeling at all.

Aaron shook his head and the feeling passed as quickly as it had come over him. He tried to focus on his breathing. Whatever was wrong with him, whatever had changed, it could wait until after he had killed the bastards that had literally shot a ballista sized arrow through his chest.

With his eyes closed and his breath nice and even he started to feel the mana around him, felt it flow into him, replenishing his bodies diminished supply of Qi. Healing had taken a lot out of him. His body had healed itself, was still healing. The gruesome wound had already closed, probably thanks to the health potion. If he had not been so occupied with getting away he would have probably been able to see how his flesh had knit itself back together. When he touched the spot where the arrow had been, he could feel smooth, if tender skin there.

He was incredibly gratefully to the great master and his gift. Without his Fiend-god art he would have died twice over, health potion or not, he was sure. In the first ambush and just now. His body had somehow used the Qi stored in his cells, in his very flesh to fuel the regeneration. How that worked he had no clue, but he could feel the difference in the spots where he had healed. They were metaphorically devouring Qi, were little nexuses of greedily absorbing cells. But with every breath he felt himself go back closer to equilibrium.

Aaron felt their presence before he actually heard them, which was a fundamentally weird feeling. The group that came looking for him felt like blips on a radar to him, like sense impressions that he had no name for. How do you describe the feeling of literally sensing someone through the ambient mana around you?

It was equal parts the sense of physicality, of feeling them with his body as much as smelling them through the qi or sensing them like heat on his skin. His sense impressions were entirely garbled but he felt them nonetheless.

There were 6 of them and one was particularly strong in his sense, like a bigger blip on the radar. Damn he would have to train this new sense of his, or he would be unable to use it. He opened his eyes and his sensory garbled radar vanished to almost nothing. It was just a very feint sense of direction now, barely noticeable if he had not already felt it stronger with closed eyes.

This feeling, these sense impressions had actually been there from the moment ha had awoken in the summoning chamber, he realized. He just had not really noticed or focused on them before.

Aaron closed his eyes again and felt for the blips on his radar. They were going for the spot where he had ripped the arrow out and Aaron slowly and silently crept in that direction on the plateaus. He took slow deliberate steps and kept to rock not to make any noise stepping into snow. Soon he was close enough so that he could confirm his sense impressions and eavesdrop while he was at it. He could listen to them talk about the 15th level and magical beasts and how they were hunting a cultivator after all. The warning of the great master echoed in his mind not to underestimate people who were able to go past the fifth level of the tower until he could break spells.

Well there was a simple solution to that. Kill the spellcaster before they could cast spells. Aaron looked around and spotted a nice big boulder resting on top of the plateau, not far from here. He took one glance down, seeing the group and decided for a spot, the tunnel entrance. So that the rock would trap them in the narrow canyon. Then he slowly pushed the boulder towards the canyon. He cursed silently as the rock rumbled and scraped on the plateaus surface. Then it started rolling on its own, tumbling over itself and then it fell down with an earsplitting crash and rumble.

Dust billowed out and although Aaron had only planned on trapping them down there, now he had an opportunity in the dust. He did not hesitate and activated Wind Steps, took one big step and plummeted down towards the mana signature that felt the most dangerous.