Alessio Leone's Perspective
After allowing the group to rest for a few hours — just enough time for them to recover their strength and stabilize their bodies after crossing the plains — I didn't hesitate to move forward.
The wind still blew harshly, carrying tiny blades of ice that cut any exposed skin, but none of that mattered.The true challenge wasn't behind us — it lay ahead.The frozen mountain — the heart of this entire region — awaited.
A few meters from the camp, the entrance to the main trail opened like a white scar along the mountainside.From a distance, it looked like a thin line, almost invisible beneath the snow and mist that cloaked the first meters of ascent.But as I approached, I realized how distinct it truly was.
The natural trail climbing the mountain was a masterpiece of nature — or perhaps, of the Tower itself.It was wide enough for three people to walk side by side but narrowed at higher points, forcing the group into a single-file line.The ground was firm, composed of rocks covered in ancient ice, polished by wind and time.In some places, accumulated snow formed uneven steps, and the sound of our boots echoed between the ice walls as if the mountain itself had a heartbeat beneath our feet.
As we advanced, the scenery changed.The air grew thinner, and the landscape more hostile.Vertical cliffs rose around us, carved by centuries of storms, and crystal shards of ice as long as spears hung from the upper ridges, gleaming under the cold light filtering through the clouds.
In some stretches, the path wound through narrow corridors flanked by deep ravines, where the wind roared like a wild beast.In others, it opened into small plateaus, where the infinite white of snow merged with the blue of the sky, giving the sensation of walking at the very edge of the world.
But what truly defined that path were the caverns.
They appeared at almost regular intervals along the trail — dark, circular openings, some small enough to require crawling, others vast as cathedral gates.Inside each of them, I knew, a dungeon portal waited.An ethereal glow — golden or silver — marking the start of a trial, the Tower's silent invitation to anyone daring enough to cross the boundary between the known and the impossible.
And before every portal stood a guardian.
These creatures weren't mere wandering beasts; they were projections of the Tower itself — pure manifestations of judgment and trial.Each had a distinct form, power, and temperament — forged to measure the strength and resolve of those who sought passage through their domain.
Defeating the guardian was the first step.The proof that the player was worthy of entering the dungeon.The real battle didn't begin inside — it began here, in the cold, before the entrance, under the mountain's silent gaze.
I had been through this before.I knew exactly what to expect.
And yet, simply looking upon that trail — with its upward curves, its distant, unseen portals, and the almost sacred weight of the wind that blew from there — awakened something within me.
Every meter of that mountain was a story waiting to be written.Every cave, a secret waiting to be unraveled.
I took a deep breath.The freezing air burned my lungs, but the sound it carried — the echo of the wind climbing through the valleys — felt like a call.
I took the first step onto the trail.And as the sound of cracking ice beneath my boots merged with the colossal silence of the mountain, I knew we were about to cross the true threshold of the Black Tower.
With so many dungeons scattered across the mountain's range, it was clear that, in the future, this area would become a haven for new players.Each cave, each portal, represented an opportunity for growth — an experience point waiting to be claimed.
And indeed, that's exactly how this place would be used in the months to come: a natural training ground, a path of ascension for those who wished to rise quickly.A forge where the inexperienced would learn to fight, coordinate, master fear, and understand the true rhythm of the Tower.
But for now, everything remained untouched.Each portal was still in its initial phase — the so-called training dungeons — simple in design, yet deadly to the unprepared.And though, in appearance, they resembled the dungeon I had explored days earlier with Matteo, Eleanor, Hana, and Cassandra, the difference was immense.
This place… was unique.
The Frozen Mountain wasn't just a random cluster of portals — it was a living structure, an interconnected system the Tower itself had crafted with a greater purpose.The caverns weren't isolated from one another; they were linked — a vast underground network of trials, intertwined and sequential, forming what would later be known to all players as the Dungeon Set.
A legendary creation.
In essence, each dungeon was an extension of the last — a sequence demanding not just strength, but endurance and foresight.Completing one was only the beginning; every victory unlocked a new passage, a hidden fissure, a secret corridor leading to the next.And only the player — or group — who managed to complete all the interconnected dungeons within the mountain would receive the true reward.
A secret that, in my previous life, had remained hidden for months — until a major guild finally uncovered it and monopolized the region for years.That was when the Frozen Mountain became one of the most contested locations in the entire Black Tower.
But this time would be different.
I had arrived first.I knew the secret.And I was prepared.
Naturally, being the first to conquer the Dungeon Set wouldn't just mean unprecedented leveling speed — it would also grant unique rewards.
And it was for those rewards that I was here.It was for them that I had dragged the group through a desert of ice for nearly a month, enduring storms, beasts, and absolute cold.Even knowing that other guilds might be advancing faster elsewhere — expanding territories, hunting stronger monsters — none of that mattered.
Because in the end, if I claimed everything this mountain guarded…if I unlocked the Dungeon Set before anyone else…
Then every sacrifice — the time, the exhaustion, the wounds — would be worth it.
The Tower was built on choices.And at that moment, I knew I had chosen the right path.