Many people came to the Frontiers for entertainment. If it received even a small amount of attention from the greater multiverse, then it was like a limited time event in which you got to see and experience many things that might be unique to the location. Now, if the Frontier drew in as much attention as this one was currently having, then the experiences would only be greater.
One of those experiences was the level of betting that there was at any given time. Most, if not all, of those bets were entirely focused on the tower and its participants. The bets started even before the tower arrived and people went in.
“Who would participate?” Was one of the type of questions that were asked even from before the tower’s arrival. Even if families had ways of keeping things hidden from the wider public, there were always hints and rumors that found their way out. From said rumors they would make their bets.
Then there were the questions that started the moment the tower began:
“What would be the lowest floor? What would be the highest floor? How long would the first batch take? Sure deaths? Sure survivors?”
Many establishments had walls filled with boards with many of these bets. Even the shops that weren’t ones that offered a service like cafés or bars, had one of these boards somewhere in their store. And in one of those bars, were two people.
“Did you hear?” someone whispered to the person in front of him, their words almost slurring.
“About?” his companion asked back.
“About the monarch’s chosen… that one,” he said, pointing toward the name at the bottom of one of the boards.
“Hmm… What does that say?” his companion asked, his eyes narrowing in an attempt to see further. “Unknown huam? —No! —Unknown huaman!”
“Human, you imbecile!” the speaker said, correcting his companion and hitting him in the back of the head.
“What—what was that, my friend?” his companion asked, his mouth twitching and eyes watering.
“Stop with the games and listen,” the speaker implored. “That one,” he said, pointing at the last name once again, “the monarch gave him some,” his voice became much lower, “infinite essence.”
Immediately, a surge of energy began to course through the companion’s body. All the alcohol vanished from his system as his expression turned stern and determination began to build within him. “Do you have an image of that unknown human?”
The betting activity that normally prevailed around the tower, while still present, was no longer the main focus of the conversation. Many, who had been waiting for the tower to be safer to enter it, began to make their way toward it.
Some looked at the constantly updated lists of those who had already failed the tower and exited, while others simply received the relevant information from people that were easily willing to share it. It wasn’t out of kindness, it was in fact out of greed.
As more and more people approached the tower, disregarding their own sense of safety, a new betting category was being added to the boards. “Who will claim the infinite essence?”
Unlike the previous boards, this new board only had no widely known names. They were all weak and unknown people. Even if they came from an established family, it was only established within their territory, and they were unknown in the wider multiverse.
Then, the first one approached the tower and disappeared in a bright flash. Following the first one, there were many bright flashes that took over the square. Some of those that were about to enter took a detour and bet on themselves before finally entering the tower.
Entering a café at a leisurely pace, as if they hadn’t been responsible for the current rush of activity, was Ondal.
“The usual,” he said, a smile across his face.
Normally, his booming voice would have caused everyone to turn and look at him, but everyone was already looking at him.
Turning slightly to his left, he caught a glimpse of the board and in that exact moment, the board shifted to the newest bet. His smile turned into a predator’s grin. Fight and grow, he thought to himself.
“And I would also like to make a bet,” he added, gesturing toward the cashier.
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The sun was already rising once more, and the field still appeared to be full of red ghosts. In fact, there was only one ghost that was missing, and it was the one that had appeared directly in front of Eric the evening before.
Eric was struggling to remain on his feet. He was covered in sweat and blood, all of it was clearly his since he was fighting ghosts. His left arm hung limply, and his right was struggling to maintain his grip on his sword.
Before him was a single ghost, and its posture carried no emotion, it was here to fight and that was what it was doing.
“Shit,” Eric said through clenched teeth, remembering how he had been before he actually started the trial.
Before the sun fully set and the ghosts were first appearing, Eric was looking forward to the trial. This trial would finally force him to tackle his biggest weakness, his lack of a connection with any weapon or specific fighting style.
When it came to fighting, he would do whatever was necessary to survive, regardless of the consequences for him or others. But that wasn’t really a style, nor was it something that could be trained. It depended on factors other than himself and that was a glaring weakness.
This trial, one focused on weapons, should have been the perfect place for him to finally gain something and shore up a weakness. But that wasn’t what ended up happening.
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Eric quickly got into position and prepared for the incoming wave, confident that he would succeed, even if he got injured, he was sure that he knew enough that he would be able to at least put up a fight.
His expectations were quickly shattered when only the nearest ghost moved and completely made his efforts irrelevant.
The ghost, holding a sword similar to the one Eric had grabbed in haste, left absolutely no room for Eric to make corrections or improvements. The worst part was that there was nothing special about how the ghost fought. Using only simple strikes and swings, the ghost overwhelmed Eric by simply knowing when to use which.
That shouldn’t have been enough to overwhelm Eric, or to leave him as injured as he was, but it had been enough. Each strike landed in a precise location that rendered Eric’s strikes useless, robbing them of their force and speed. Every swing caught him off guard and slowly the wounds accumulated and began to make lasting damage.
“I made the first mistake,” he said as he dodged a swing. “I was overconfident and when things didn’t go as I expected, I froze, and things began to snowball.” He exhaled heavily through his nose. “I need to get back to the starting point. Observe and not just react,” he said, coming to a decision.
Creating some distance, Eric tightened his grip on the sword and instead of looking at where the approaching ghost would strike, he tried his best to get into a stable position.
When he was sure that he had done his best, all the ghosts vanished.
“Huh?!” Eric exclaimed.
“Good luck!”
“May Devak guide your hand!”
“I’ll pray for you, kind stranger!”
“Huh?!” Eric exclaimed once more, quickly turning to see the exact same people that had accompanied him the day before.
Two soldiers were moving to the side and began to close the gate once more. Turning to face the sun, which up until a moment ago had been rising, he realized that it was once again descending beyond the hills.
“This is a fucking loop?” he said, a theory quickly popping into his head. “Wait—then that means—”
On cue, the sky was overtaken by an eerie red light and red ghosts began to rise. However, there was a clear difference this time around. Through a quick visual inspection, Eric realized that the number of ghosts had increased by a small amount.
Quickly coming to his senses and realizing that he had no time, he once again reached for the closest sword. “If there’s more of them… then do I have to fight two of them now?” he asked, his eyes darting around.
As the sun fully descended and the eerie red sky settled, combining with the night, only one ghost moved, alleviating Eric’s concern. Round two.
Time passed and unlike the first time when Eric wanted to use his half-baked understandings on how to wield the sword and beat the trial, while somehow still learning something, this time he put away all that he previously knew. He didn’t hide them away forever, he hid them for later, for when he reached a level where he could more accurately grasp them.
Now, Eric focused entirely on blocking, while simultaneously mimicking the movements that the ghost made.
It’s completely different from when I fought that guy in the first floor, Eric mused. He was going easy on me. Observing me more as a curiosity than an actual opponent. But this guy— His thoughts halted as he received a heavy blow. —this guy is fighting for real. While simple, he’s doing the best he can do.
Eric watched every movement with keen interest. After the end of the second night, he was already at a point where he no longer needed to worry about any injuries accumulating, he was already capable of blocking most attacks.
When the third night began, he was determined to learn to counterattack each attack with one of his own. I have more than enough weapons to make mistakes, and also… it’s a time loop. During the fifth night, Eric finally succeeded.
In a normal fight, you wouldn’t only observe your opponent’s weapon, you would look at them as a whole. Where they looked, where their body pointed and now, Eric was sure he was even capable of noticing muscles twitch. But right now, none of that was possible. The ghost moved only to attack. It didn’t have to look, turn or gesture in any fashion whatsoever, it only attacked.
Such a situation made Eric's learning both harder and easier. Harder in the sense that he had to get all his clues about how to react from the weapon itself. How it traveled, tilted and sounded, had all become essential. However, that was also what made it easier. With his focus honed entirely on the sword, he was able to ignore everything else and learn with greater ease.
On the twelfth night, a sword swung down in a perfectly vertical motion. There was no deviation, and the sword remained perfectly straight. For the first time since the trial began, the ghost had to block the attack, and it failed to do so.
The sword traveled down not only with a perfect form, but also with an incredible amount of weight. Eric’s physical abilities were restrained, and he wasn’t using mana reinforcement at all, but that didn’t mean his strength was average. With his evolved body, even the smallest strength he could muster would be hard for an average human to handle.
And now that he knew how to swing his sword properly, he could begin to incorporate what he had learned from previous floors. Things like which muscles to use to exert greater force, or how to make his stance steadier and firmer so that he could exert said force.
When the fifteenth night was nearing its end, Eric finally cut off the head of the ghostly soldier. It was with a horizontal swing that allowed no room to dodge. The swing came after a successful counterattack that staggered the ghost for a single second, but that was all he needed.
With a small nod, Eric gave his thanks for all that he learned from the ghost and as soon as he was done with that, his expression turned serious.
Around him was a sea of red. There was still some free space in the wide plains, but it was undeniable that the number of ghosts had undergone a considerable increase. Taking a deep breath, Eric tightened his grip on the sword and prepared himself.
His eyes darted around, looking for the smallest hint of movement. Then, when he had quickly spun in place once, he saw that the two nearest ghosts moved in his direction. One wielded a spear and the other a sword.
As the sixteenth night ended, the two new ghosts fell. Having already formed an idea as to what would happen next, he moved to a specific clump of ghosts and his idea was confirmed. Four new ghosts were moving, two swords, a bow and a spear.
Seeing the four ghosts move made a certain primal instinct rise, but it was quickly quelled by reason. “I still have mana reinforcement to add to the mix,” he said, feeling the mana rage within him that demanded to be used.
Without moving from where he stood, Eric saw the ghosts vanish before him. Walking back to where the weapons were, he once more heard the cries of the people that had accompanied him before the first night.
“Good luck!”
“May Devak guide your hand!”
“I’ll pray for you, kind stranger!”
Ignoring them completely, he fixed his sights on all the weapons before him. “I doubt infantrymen like the ghosts used daggers, so that’s a no,” Eric said, analyzing the choices he had. “Small axes might be a thing. Hmm, I’ll have to see if I can find a ghost that wields axes. But these two are confirmed. Let’s start with you.”
Putting the sword back where he had gotten it from, Eric instead picked up a spear. “This might be my only chance to learn as much as I am. I better take full advantage and if I can’t find something that’s uniquely mine, than at least I would fit my class: Battle Adept.”
When the seventeenth night rose, he made his way to the same group he had been near before. Standing closest to the one who had wielded a spear, Eric wanted to confirm one final thing.
Shortly after Eric stopped walking, the spear wielding ghost began to move. With a nod, Eric made some distance between the ghost and himself, unsure of what to expect.
Having recovered some confidence, he began to imagine how he would grow and what he would learn. An alien smile, more awkward and terrifying than before, took over his face. However, this time Eric noticed the incongruity between what he wanted to express and what he actually ended up doing.
With a light shake of his head, he dismissed any errant thoughts. “I have more important things to do,” he said to himself, staring at the approaching ghost.