Crisas had done his best to help his older brother with his initial swing, but that had limited effects. His efforts weren’t as extensive as he wanted them to be, only hindering the actions of some of the shooters.

  “Just wait a bit,” he told himself, sure that he would be able to help.

  By the time his sickle had returned to him, having ripped out the insides of the test subject that he had caught, he was ready to swing once more, his target decided, but he was unable to.

  By the time Crisas had the sickle in his hand, a test subject that was mostly mechanical legs, appeared behind him, kicking him further inside the building. The force wasn’t enough to cause him to fall, and he was ready to quickly run back to a favorable position, but another test subject appeared.

  This one was a smaller version of the giant that had been in the landfill, his proportions more in line with what would be expected to be possible from a human.

  “Get out of my way!” Crisas exclaimed as he lunged toward his target.

  His sickle was fast, quickly reaching his opponent, digging into their metallic arm that was being used as defense. But as his sickle began to dig deeper, he felt something dig into his own flesh, in his upper arm.

  Beside Crisas stood an almost skeletal figure, completely rigid and silent. Its arm was divided into three different tubular sections that spun, digging deeper into Crisas’s arm.

  Trying to retrieve his sickle, Crisas found that any distraction could be fatal as a powerful hand gripped his wrist, threatening to crush it.

  Suddenly, everything became too much for Crisas. The pain in his arm kept demanding for him to do something. He could even feel his flesh being sucked in through the tubular arm. He swore that he could hear as his wrist creaked under the pressure of being squeezed.

  Even the sounds of shooting started to become overwhelming as they suddenly decided to increase in intensity.

  Fighting through all the noise that wished to distract him, Crisas found firm ground within himself. His goals, his desires, and his needs, they were all things that only he could accomplish.

  And he needed to accomplish them. If not for him, then for his brothers, and if not for them, then for their mothers, and if not for them, for the people that his family ruled.

  “Things need to change, and only I can do that,” he said through gritted teeth.

  Power began to flood through his entire body, an odd combination of warmth and cold fighting within him. Yet, despite this internal struggle, he had never felt better.

  He firmed his grasp on the sickle’s handle, his very muscles fighting against the pressure as he tensed them. When he tensed his upper arm, his very muscles began to make the digging slow until it ceased completely.

  No longer able to muster any strength in his left arm, Crisas fixed his posture and, using the base of his palm, struck against the skeletal test subject, sending it staggering backwards.

  And with more strength in his right arm then before, he broke free from the grasp he had been held in and immediately swung at his opponent, aimed at the same spot his younger brother had been targeting as well.

  The intensity with which he struck was more than enough to now only sever what he had targeted, but also drag some other stuff along with it. A large wound appeared on the test subject’s chest, causing it to falter sideways as it struggled to stand firm.

  If Crisas had caused such a wound earlier, then the test subject would have fallen for a considerable amount of time, but things were different now. Now they were warmed up and ready to fight, pushing themselves to protect what they needed to.

  Crisas was about to run forward, ready to aid his brother, but to his surprise, he found himself unable to move. Something was holding his shoulder firmly.

  “What?!” he exclaimed, turning to see what was holding him back.

  The test subject that he had just damaged was grabbing on to his shoulder with a steely determination. The wound in its chest was on fire. It wasn’t just a matter of a spark falling on the oil, but also its internal components working overtime to compensate for the damage it had received.

  Through heating and damaged components, it managed to mutter one word, “Mo-ther.”

  ----------

  Eric ran forward to where his swords were. He had dropped both of them, preferring to run away. But now the situation demanded that he act and attack the test subjects.

  He had tried to summon the katana, taking the chance to increase his understanding of the Bladesong style that he had been practicing, but the katana was nowhere to be seen.

  It’s either back in the landfill or one of the brothers has it, Eric thought. That being said, I can try and see how well I can do with a different sword. Maybe I’ll reach that fabled level of “everything is a blade,” like in the novels.

  When he grabbed both swords, he didn’t stop moving, dragging the body of the test subject he had impaled a few meters until both swords slid out. While he ran, Eric tried to simplify and modify the three movements he had remembered.

  He couldn’t rest the blade of the sword on his hand like “The wings take” demanded since he had it occupied with another sword, but he still brought it to his side, if only briefly.

  Knowing that he wouldn’t stop, he didn’t twist the sword completely vertical, and instead aligned it with the angle of the test subject’s neck.

  Mana was already coursing through his entire body, increasing his power as much as possible. When he reached the test subject that the eldest brother had faced first, Eric only swung his sword upward, at an angle, directly toward its neck.

  The air that glides.

  The mana helped him steady his powerful swing.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  Eric felt his blade hit the test subject, but he didn’t notice when his blade left its neck. That being said, both in his mind and in his actions, he never stopped to verify his strike. Only when a System message appeared before him did he confirm that he had succeeded in his strike.

  Test Subject T-093X-L7 +22,080 credits.

  Quickly dismissing the message, Eric continued on his way toward the next target, once again readying his blade.

  This time he did it with the sword in his left hand, and when the sword met its target, he had to stop. The force, the angle and even his drive was wrong. Knowing that he didn’t have time to lose, he poured more mana into his left arm and forcefully tore through the test subject’s neck.

  Test Subject T-071X-L7 +17,400 credits.

  The angle from which the blade began and where I struck was different. The swing wasn’t completely straight, I struggled a bit. Was it because I was running? Or was it because I’m not as adept with my left hand? Shouldn’t my new control over my body be more than enough to make up for me initially being right-handed?

  While Eric advanced, he analyzed everything he was doing. Every error, every variance and every correct action he did became a matter of note. Mental Focus, Mana Projection and Body Reinforcement were all being worked to their limits and Eric could feel how his mana was plummeting.

  Sure, it was a great effort to only master a single set of movements, but it was so much more than that. He was seeing his own limitations, understanding the weapons in his hands better than before. They were small steps, but steps, nonetheless.

  The very fact that he could do what he was doing at this very moment proved how much he had advanced already. Before the tower, he would struggle to do a simple swing with both hands and now he was adapting while on the move.

  Eric had already confirmed through his own experience that the tower somehow promoted growth. Not only through the designs of the various floors, but also with internal development. He was sure that the tower aided in the development of skills, if only a bit.

  Right now, he wasn’t only fighting to survive, he was also using that very fight to learn and grow. Considering that, it would be foolish of him to not take advantage of every situation that he found himself in. Especially now that he had no other choice if he wanted to survive.

  Soon, he reached the spot where the youngest began his own desperate fight for survival. It was only a few steps from where the biggest piece of the eldest’s body was located, the exact location where he fell.

  Looking at the body in the ground, Eric instincts, real or fake, pushed him to make a grimace.

  “There’s barely anything left of him,” he muttered, the grimace fully formed.

  Before him was a completely charred torso. Connected to it was a single leg stump, along with a thin piece of his neck that connected to an equally thin piece of its head. Basically, only a piece of his spine remained, most of the flesh was removed.

  From its head, the only thing that remained was its upper left side, eye socket and all, scraps of flesh interrupted by metal fragments.

  “Shit,” he added, feeling somewhat sorry at the sight.

  Whether he was truly feeling what he thought he was, or he was instinctively reacting how he thought he was supposed to, didn’t matter, not in this moment. He didn’t question anything and let the emotions flow, regardless of how fake or real they were.

  Somehow, his resolve hardened and he tightened his grip on both swords, turning to face the building.

  ----------

  When the youngest reached his dead sibling, an intense fury began to burn within him. From various points in his body, energy began to rise, solidifying into spheres.

  They weren’t constructs or technological in any fashion, they were spheres of pure energy. Each one of them was a different color and they were draining his power with great speed.

  With his mind set to burn the morgue to cinders, he rushed into the building without uttering a single word. His eyes conveyed his intention, and he cared little if the test subjects knew what it was or not.

  While he walked toward the building, a clear sphere with a hint of purple attracted all the projectiles toward it, protecting him. When he was a single step from the building, a yellow orb flew forward, releasing a blinding light that caused their attacks to pause for a moment.

  Before the light dissipated completely, a purple orb with a clear speck in the center, moved toward its opposite sphere. It took all the projectiles and shot them with guided precision.

  Once inside the building, the youngest began to swing his arm as if he were throwing something. Mid swing, an orange sphere with hints of black appeared in his hand. When the sphere reached its target, a small but powerful explosion was unleashed, causing the entire building to shake.

  Noticing that his attack had barely any effect in the grand scheme of things, he began to prepare another method of attack. A sphere as wide as his torso began to coalesce above his back, it was a mix of colors, ultimately ending in a dark sludge that was slowly building up.

  In the meantime, the test subjects began to attack him with all the means at their disposal.

  When they struck at him and he couldn’t deal with it, a gray and white sphere shot toward the attack, releasing a burst of air powerful enough to divert the attack. The speed with which the gray and white spheres drained his power was incredible, the consumption was way beyond anything else he was doing.

  Even in his enraged state, he knew that he couldn’t continue as he was. If he stayed in the middle of the constant barrage of attacks, he and his spheres would be overwhelmed. But he didn’t care, he could see his struggling brother deeper in the building.

  Crisas was always the one that was meant to lead us, guide us and our people into a changed clan. If my life can be used to guarantee that he lives, then… then it was more than worth it.

  The youngest had entered the building with a firm determination to end it all. The test subjects, the building, and the very life that was incapable of defending that of his sibling, his own.

  As his emotions flared to life, his determination to set on bringing an end to everything within his reach, a different type of energy began to exude from him.

  At first, the energy that left him was colorless, only gaining a color when it coalesced and its function was determined, but now it was completely different. The energy that was coalescing into the sphere above him was all red. Even before it left his body, it was already red.

  From across the room, Crisas noticed the familiar red energy that was rising from his sibling’s body. Even though he himself was barely able to deal with the enemies that refused to leave him alone, he could still spare some time for family.

  “NO!!!” he screamed, allowing various attacks to land on him. “Don’t!! No!!”

  The calm that Eric associated with him was nowhere to be seen. No, now there was only a pleading man, begging for the safety of his brother.

  The dark sludge was being overwhelmed by the life energy that was flooding the orb. What had once been dark, was now a bright red that was rapidly reaching completion.

  With one last glance at Crisas, the youngest of the three siblings that had entered the tower with great hopes, firmly put his palms together. Determination flooded his expression, a small smile appearing as he felt a sense of relief, and the sphere finally burst.

  ----------

  Eric ran into the building, ignoring the suicidal advance of the youngest of the three. With his enhanced leg strength, he easily reached the second floor and began to dispatch the still recovering test subjects.

  The scene before him proved that they were all in fact tests. Each of them was recovering in a different manner. Some were building around the damage, finding ways to function without the damaged part, while others were physically recovering the damage, He even saw one that was literally regrowing the mechanical piece, like organic material, replacing the damaged one.

  Eric guessed that it was through something like nanotechnology. Not because he actually knew that to be the case, but it was the closest thing that came to mind as he observed the test subjects.

  It wasn’t until he killed the last of the injured test subjects that his attention turned to the bright red floating sphere.

  “What the fuck is that?” Eric asked no one in particular.

  Then he saw that the youngest was staring at his remaining brother, the one called Crisas and then Crisas yelled “No!”

  “Fuck no!” Eric exclaimed. “I’m not going to be part of a suicide attack.”

  Without thinking about what he was about to do, Eric leaped toward the youngest. When he landed, he fixed his posture, grabbed him by the waist and with all his power, threw him outside the building.

  His happiness didn’t last a single second as he realized that the sphere didn’t follow the man he had just thrown. The sphere shone above Eric with greater intensity than before.

  “Shit.”

  The sphere burst.