Zero and Arven ascended the jagged crimson staircase, the air thick with the metallic tang of blood and ozone. At the top, the staircase opened into a massive circular arena, its walls carved from dark stone streaked with crimson veins that pulsed faintly. Shadows twisted unnaturally, as if alive, and the ground itself seemed to throb beneath their feet.
The Tower's voice rang out, louder and more merciless than before:
"Trial Three: The Crimson Arena. All remaining climbers are now prey and predator alike. Only one group may advance. Kill, survive, or be erased."
Zero's gray eyes narrowed. "The Tower accelerates its tests. This floor… it's trying to teach a lesson in blood and calculation."
Arven exhaled, gripping his blade tighter. "One group? That means… it's us against everyone else?"
Zero's gaze swept the arena. Figures began to materialize around them—dozens of climbers, eyes wide with terror and determination. Some were skilled fighters, others unprepared, all now trapped in a battle that would leave few alive.
Observation Before Action
Zero crouched slightly, analyzing patterns in the emerging climbers. He noted their stances, tendencies, and potential weaknesses. This was not just a test of strength—it was a test of mind, strategy, and composure under pressure.
"Arven," Zero said quietly, "don't rush. Let them make mistakes first. Observe. Predict. Strike where the opportunity is guaranteed."
Arven smirked, a faint thrill in his eyes. "You really do think like the Tower. Fine… I'll follow your lead… for now."
The First Clash
The arena erupted as a group of five charged forward. Zero sidestepped the first attacker, pivoted, and struck the second's leg, sending him crashing into a crimson wall. Sparks of energy flew from the collision.
Arven moved alongside him, blocking an overhead strike, then countering with a precise slash that incapacitated another. Their coordination, though unspoken, was fluid and lethal.
Other climbers panicked, attacking recklessly, leaving themselves vulnerable. Zero exploited each opening, cutting with clinical precision.
Fear Breeds Chaos
Screams echoed across the arena. Blood sprayed against the pulsing walls, the metallic scent thickening. Some climbers froze, paralyzed by fear; others lashed out blindly, only to fall to calculated strikes.
One desperate fighter, wielding dual daggers, lunged at Zero with unmatched speed. Zero anticipated the strike, sidestepped, and caught the climber's wrist with a flick of his blade, snapping the arm backward. The climber crumpled, incapacitated.
Arven whispered in awe, "How do you stay so calm…?"
Zero's gaze didn't waver. "Emotion clouds judgment. The Tower does not forgive hesitation."
The Turning Point
Suddenly, a larger group of survivors regrouped, trying to encircle Zero and Arven. Their plan was basic but dangerous if executed with discipline. Zero's eyes flicked over the formation, calculating angles, distances, and timing.
"Predict their pattern," he muttered to Arven. "Break formation. Force chaos. Exploit fear."
Using the arena's pulsing terrain, Zero baited the group into the center, where the ground beneath them heaved and spiked. One climber misstepped and fell into a fissure, screaming as jagged red shards impaled him. Panic rippled through the rest.
Arven seized the opportunity, cutting down two more with swift, precise strikes.
Clarity Above All
By the end of the brutal confrontation, only Zero, Arven, and a handful of survivors remained, battered and bloodied. The Tower's voice echoed again:
"Few remain… but the floor is not yet done. Only clarity, not power, will allow you to ascend."
Zero wiped blood from his blade, his gray eyes scanning the arena for hidden threats. His body ached, muscles screaming, but his mind was sharper than ever.
He looked at Arven, who nodded grimly, understanding what Zero already knew: mercy would be punished, hesitation would be fatal, and emotion was a liability. Only perfect clarity and calculated action could ensure survival.
From the shadows, the crimson walls pulsed once more, and the air thickened, as if the Tower itself exhaled in anticipation.
Zero's voice was quiet but resolute: "One floor remains before we leave the Blood-Touched Floor. One final test. The Tower watches… and it remembers every failure. We cannot fail again."
Arven gritted his teeth. "Then we finish it… together. But don't hold back."
Zero's lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile. "I never do.