By the time dozens of fighters reached Floor 46, the Celestial Tower had stopped pretending to be merciful.
The chamber stretched outward into a wide, misty woodland—trees of pale silver, roots curling around glowing stones, and drifting spores that shimmered like dust caught in moonlight. Sounds echoed strangely here. A step on the left might echo to the right. A whisper overhead might originate beneath your feet. It was a place built not for speed or brute force…
…but for hunters.
Julian Breadstone swooped in low, now wearing a vest patterned with leaves, binoculars dangling uselessly around his neck.
"HELLO, SWEET VIEWERS OF THE MULTIVERSE!
Have you ever wondered what would happen if a ranger, a survival expert, a patient predator, and a field tactician were combined into one person with NO MAGIC WHATSOEVER? NO ENERGY BLASTS? NO DRAGON BLOOD? JUST PURE STRATEGY?"
Jimmy nodded, adjusting his mic.
"This one is sharp. Really sharp."
On the spectral screens hovering above the arena, the image sharpened to reveal a woman crouched in the branches of a shining tree—motionless, controlled, watching the fog.
Lean, wiry muscles.
Ash-brown skin marked with faint scars.
Dark braids tied back with strips of fabric.
Her armor was simple leather reinforced with bone plating.
On her back:
A collapsible bow.
A quiver of metal-tipped arrows.
Three throwing knives.
One hatchet.
A hunter's tools.
Her name pulsed softly under her:
Tessa Volarne – Huntress of the Southern Glades
She didn't move.
Not even as three fighters sprinted beneath her, shouting, panicking, scattering through illusions intentionally placed by the tower.
Tessa watched them disappear.
She did not follow.
She waited.
Julian nodded furiously.
"OH YES. PATIENCE. A LOST ART. A RARE TREASURE. I HAVE NEVER WAITED PATIENTLY IN MY LIFE!"
Jimmy rubbed his eyes. "We know, Julian. We know."
The floor shifted suddenly.
A whisper of claws.
A low rumble.
A tower-spawn creature slunk into view—a lanky panther made of spiked roots and mirrored eyes, moving in ripples of silent menace.
Tessa exhaled.
She didn't nock an arrow.
Didn't drop down for a strike.
She listened.
Her fingers touched the bark beneath her.
She felt the vibration.
The creature's heartbeat.
Its weight distribution.
Its pacing pattern.
"Left," she murmured softly.
She dropped from the branch—
not toward the creature,
but away from it.
The creature lunged exactly where she had been.
Tessa pivoted, landing low, sliding beneath a low vine.
Her bow unfolded in one fluid motion, a soft metallic click smoothing into silence.
She didn't look at the creature when she drew the string.
She looked at the patterns of light scattering through the mist.
The wind rippling across the leaves.
The way the ground cracked slightly when it stepped.
Her arrow flew.
No glowing aura.
No chi-enhancement.
Just perfect trajectory.
It struck a glowing sigil embedded behind the creature's shoulder—its weak spot, not visible unless one studied the tower's biological constructs.
The creature screeched as the weak-point disrupted its energy stability, dissolving it like sand caught in a river.
Julian exploded into applause.
"YES! DID YOU SEE THAT?! TARGETING! PATTERN RECOGNITION! ZERO MAGIC! A PERFECTLY NORMAL KILL AND YET SOMEHOW STILL A MASTERPIECE!"
Jimmy inhaled sharply.
"She read that floor like she grew up in it."
Julian gasped.
"She DID! The Southern Glades—one of the deadliest hunting zones in the mid-realms! Oh, she's comfortable here."
Tessa didn't celebrate.
Didn't hesitate.
She moved again—silent, steady, scanning the fog from every angle.
Another fighter charged out of the mist—a muscle-packed brute with metallic gauntlets who mistook her for prey.
He swung.
Tessa ducked, barely moving her head.
The gauntlet shattered a tree behind her.
She rolled backward, flicked a knife into her left hand, and tapped the ground twice.
The brute lunged again.
She stepped aside.
Swift.
Minimal.
Efficient.
The brute's foot hit the spot she tapped.
A tiny puff of spores erupted upward—paralytic.
Not lethal.
Tower-made.
He froze midstride.
Tessa didn't attack.
She simply patted his shoulder.
"Wrong tracker," she said gently. "Go slowly. The floor punishes loud hunters."
She nudged him toward a safe path.
Then she moved on.
Jimmy whispered, "She… trains everyone she meets."
Julian sniffed dramatically, proud as a parent.
"A TRUE EDUCATING QUEEN."
Up ahead, a group of fighters huddled together—
four strangers who had banded out of necessity.
A mage with trembling hands.
A spearman with a bleeding shoulder.
A young archer firing arrows wildly.
And a bard clutching a broken lute.
They didn't see Tessa until she stepped from the fog.
"Stop," she said calmly.
They jumped.
"We—I—we're not hostile!" the spearman stammered.
"I know," Tessa said. "You're tired."
She scanned the area.
"Tighten formation. No more sprinting. Move only when the mist thickens."
The mage blinked. "Why?"
Tessa pointed.
A thin ripple in the air—a distortion almost too faint to see—glided through the clearing.
"Invisible blade trap," she said. "Triggers on fast movement."
The bard let out a squeak.
Tessa raised her bow.
One arrow.
Perfect shot.
The invisible trap fizzled and collapsed.
The group stared in awe.
Tessa nodded once.
"Follow that path. You'll reach the exit."
"But what about you?" the archer asked.
Tessa gave a small, faint smile.
"Hunters move alone."
The group hurried off, believing in her more than in their own abilities.
Julian leaned toward the camera.
"CAN WE GET A ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR THIS TREMENDOUS LEADERSHIP?! She's not just here to survive—she's here to help other people survive too!"
Jimmy nodded.
"Someone like her on a battlefield could save entire squads."
The tower noticed her progress.
And adapted.
Floor 46 altered its paths.
Roots shifted position.
Stone animals prowled.
Illusions of movement taunted from the mist.
A lesser fighter would panic.
Tessa closed her eyes.
Listened again.
One breath.
One exhale.
A soft step to the left.
The illusion parted.
The real path revealed itself.
She followed.
At the far end of the woodland chamber, a final challenge awaited:
A towering elk-like creature forged from starlight and bone, its antlers reshaping the branches above it.
This was a mid-tier guardian.
It didn't roar.
Didn't charge.
It watched her.
Waited.
Tessa lowered her bow.
"I'm not here to challenge your territory," she murmured. "Just passing through."
The guardian pawed the ground once.
She nodded.
She stepped wide—giving it space.
Respecting it.
The guardian sniffed the air.
Lowered its head.
Shifted aside.
Julian screamed in delight.
"SHE DIPLOMACIED THE STAR ELK! SHE NEGOTIATED WITH A BEING MADE OF PURE ASTRAL NATURE! SOMEONE GIVE HER A MEDAL!"
Jimmy chuckled.
"She's got the patience of someone who's spent a year tracking a single monster."
"Correct," Julian whispered. "She did. A razorback chimera. Took her fourteen months. She won."
Jimmy blinked. "How do you know that?"
"I READ HER APPLICATION. SHE WROTE IT IN PEN."
Tessa reached the exit gate to Floor 47.
She tightened her gloves.
Checked her quiver.
Tested the edge of her hatchet.
No supernatural buffs.
No magical amplifications.
Just preparation.
Always preparation.
She looked up toward the higher floors—
where the Wolf King had torn through traps,
where Swift danced silver arcs,
where Jake thundered upward,
where Korvas blazed a path,
where Eira whispered through shadows,
where Gravemane hunted predators,
where Danny prepared to climb with creation at his fingertips.
Tessa exhaled one breath.
Then climbed.
Not fast.
Not flashy.
Relentless.
The tower shifted around her, respecting her understanding of terrain and patience. She would not break records. She would not shock crowds. But she would not fall.
Julian clapped loudly.
"TESSA VOLARNE—THE HUNTRESS WHO WAITS! A PRACTICAL FIGHTER WITH NO GIFTS BUT HER SKILL, NO COMPANION BUT HER INSTINCT, AND NO REASON TO STOP BUT THE TOP OF THIS BEAUTIFUL SPIKY DEATH TOWER!"
Jimmy nodded.
"She'll make it. Maybe not to the top floors, but she'll make the cut."
Julian raised his waffle dramatically.
"A TOAST! TO THE HUNTERS, THE VETERANS, THE EVERYDAY WARRIORS!
THE BACKBONE OF THIS ENTIRE TOURNAMENT!"
Tessa didn't hear him.
She was already in the mist, bow in hand, eyes sharp.
Hunting the next chamber.
The tower shifted in appreciation.
And allowed her ascent.