The staircase twisted upward like the spine of some ancient beast. Kael's footsteps echoed against the stone, each step a reminder of the battle he had barely survived. His legs burned, his ribs still ached, but he refused to slow. The System had not given him the luxury of rest, and neither would he grant it the satisfaction of weakness.
Blue light shimmered faintly from runes carved along the walls, glowing brighter whenever his hand brushed against the stone. Each rune hummed with energy, as though they were veins carrying the lifeblood of the tower itself.
When he reached the top, the staircase opened into a vast hall. The chamber was circular, its ceiling lost in shadows, its walls lined with statues that stretched from floor to unseen heights. Each statue depicted warriors in various stances—knights, archers, mages, assassins—every class Kael had only ever read about in fantasy stories back on Earth.
And all of them were broken.
Arms shattered, heads missing, weapons crumbled into dust. Their hollow eyes seemed to follow him as he stepped inside. A chill prickled down his spine.
> [New Trial Assigned: Choose Your Path.]
The voice returned, steady and unfeeling.
A glowing circle flared into existence at the center of the chamber. Symbols of classes spiraled outward—swords, staffs, bows, daggers, and dozens more Kael couldn't even name. Each one pulsed like a heartbeat.
Kael stared, chest rising and falling as he tried to steady himself. "Choose my path?" he muttered. "So this is it… the point of no return."
He approached the circle, eyes sweeping over the glowing sigils. The swords pulsed brightest, resonating with the shard he had once wielded. Yet his gaze lingered on the staff symbol, where faint whispers tickled at the edge of his hearing.
Strength in steel, or knowledge in flame. Choose wrong, and you'll break before you begin.
The voice wasn't the System. It was softer, more human—an echo carried on the chamber's air. Kael froze, turning his head, but no one was there.
"Who's there?" he demanded, his hand instinctively tightening into a fist.
Silence. Only the flickering runes answered him.
His mind raced. Was it a trick? A remnant of the golem's destruction? Or… something older?
He swallowed hard and looked back at the glowing circle. His instincts screamed to pick quickly, but another part of him—something deeper—urged patience.
The System spoke again.
> [Choose your Class: Warrior, Mage, Ranger, Assassin, Guardian…]
The list continued, far longer than he could follow.
Kael closed his eyes, steadying his breath. Think. Don't rush. This isn't just power—it's a chain. Once I bind myself, the System will have more control.
But before he could decide, the ground shuddered. Dust rained from the broken statues. One by one, the stone warriors stirred. Cracks glowed with blue fire as the statues lurched into motion, their shattered forms rising like puppets pulled by invisible strings.
Kael's heart dropped.
> [Time Limit Initiated. You must choose within 300 seconds.]
A timer flared before his eyes, ticking down.
The first statue—an archer missing half its face—drew a bow of pure energy, loosing an arrow that screamed through the air. Kael dove aside, the shaft exploding against the ground. Shards of stone slashed his cheek.
"Damn it!" he cursed, scrambling to his feet. His options narrowed with every passing second.
The statues closed in, their movements jerky but relentless. A swordsman swung its broken blade, sparks flying as it cleaved through the air. Kael blocked with his arm, the impact rattling his bones even as his Adaptive Instinct dulled the worst of the pain.
The timer ticked: 220… 219… 218…
Kael gritted his teeth. "I don't have time for this!"
He darted toward the glowing circle, dodging arrows and strikes. Every sigil pulsed brighter as he neared. His gaze flickered between the sword and the staff, the two paths pulling at him like opposing tides.
The sword feels safe. Familiar. But the staff… the whispers…
Another arrow whistled past, nearly piercing his leg. Kael stumbled, blood dripping from his arm where the last strike had grazed him. His breath came ragged, but his eyes burned with determination.
He pressed his hand down on the circle.
The staff sigil flared to life.
The whispers erupted into a chorus, wrapping around him like chains of light. Pain seared through his veins as the sigil carved itself into his skin, etching faint blue lines along his arms. His vision swam, the chamber twisting around him.
> [Class Chosen: Arcanist. Subclass: Wanderer's Magus.]
The statues froze mid-attack, their bodies crumbling back into lifeless stone. The chamber fell silent once more.
Kael collapsed to his knees, gasping for air. His entire body trembled, every nerve still alight with fire.
Slowly, he opened his hand. Blue sparks danced across his fingertips, faint but undeniable. A staff of light shimmered into existence, forming from the fragments of his will.
Kael stared at it, awe and fear mingling in his chest. "Magic… real magic…"
The System's voice returned.
> [Class Attributes Unlocked. New Skill: Arcane Pulse.] [Skill Description: Release a wave of pure energy to repel enemies. Strength scales with Intelligence.]
A panel appeared, numbers shifting as new stats revealed themselves:
Class: Arcanist – Wanderer's Magus
Health: 65/120
Strength: 6
Agility: 9
Endurance: 8
Intelligence: 15
Skills: Adaptive Instinct (Passive), Arcane Pulse (Active)
Kael rose slowly, the staff solid in his grip. His chest still heaved, but his lips curved into a grim smile.
"For the first time… I feel like I've actually chosen something for myself."
But before he could savor the moment, the whispers returned—clearer now, no longer just fragments.
You've chosen well, Wanderer. But power comes with a price.
Kael's eyes widened. "Who are you?"
Silence followed, but a single rune on the far wall flickered, glowing faintly before dimming again.
The System spoke, cutting through the lingering voice.
> [Trial Complete. Advancement Confirmed. Prepare for Transition.]
A beam of light enveloped Kael, pulling him upward. The chamber dissolved around him, the statues, the runes, even the ceiling vanishing into darkness.
His body lifted weightlessly, the staff clutched tight in his hand.
And then, with a thunderous crash, he landed in a new place.
The sky stretched above him—no longer a cavern ceiling but a horizon painted with crimson clouds. Jagged mountains loomed in the distance, rivers of molten light flowing between them. The ground beneath his feet was cracked, as if the land itself had suffered endless wars.
And there, at the far edge of the broken plains, shadows moved. Figures cloaked in black armor, their eyes glowing with the same crimson fire as the golem's, marching toward him in silence.
Kael tightened his grip on the staff. His heart thundered, but his resolve was unshaken.
The journey wasn't easing—it was only growing harsher.
> [New Quest Assigned: Survive the March of the Forgotten.]
Kael exhaled sharply. "So be it."
The Wanderer's path had only just begun, and the world was already demanding more.
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