The wind howled through the broken towers of the Scar District, where the Dungeon Tower loomed like an ancient god. The morning sun failed to reach the spire's surface—it absorbed light, hope, and time. Somewhere within its haunted chambers, Kian Thorne bled, breathed, and rose again.
He was on the eleventh floor now.
The stone beneath his boots hummed with old magic, and above him hung a sky painted with falling embers. This was the Realm of Forgotten Flames—a plane that seemed suspended between worlds. Charred trees crackled in the distance. The air shimmered with heat, and the ground trembled with the soft cries of fire elementals mourning their eternity.
Kian gritted his teeth and stepped forward. His cloak was torn, half of it singed. The shoulder of his leather armor was cracked, exposing a shallow wound. He didn't heal it. Pain kept him sharp.
He whispered a command.
"Wake."
From the void stitched into his satchel, two figures emerged—remnants of fallen warriors he had bound in earlier raids. A phantom lancer, her armor spectral and glowing faintly blue, and a hulking brute stitched together from bone and mana threads. His Hollow Banner wasn't just a guild now—it was a concept made flesh, even if his subordinates were corpses.
Flames erupted from the path ahead.
The first of the guardians appeared: a fire-forged golem, its arms molten, its eyes molten cracks in a slab of obsidian. It let out a low roar and charged.
Kian didn't speak. He moved.
The phantom lancer dashed ahead, piercing the golem's leg with a lance of shadow. The brute grabbed its arm and locked it in place. Kian leapt into the air, twin blades drawn, spinning as he brought down his enchanted steel into the golem's neck.
Sparks flew.
The golem shattered into shards, glowing like embers in the dark.
System Notification: Flame Guardian Defeated. Remaining: 2
Kian landed and caught his breath. "Two more."
He pressed forward.
Back in Draegor…
Nyla sat by the window of their home, staring at the dull sky. A week had passed. Their older brother, their anchor, had not returned.
Dael paced the hallway, muttering to himself. He had modified the house's wards—just in case—and now fiddled with a mana core meant to boost signal pulses.
"He should be back," Nyla whispered.
"He said he'd be safe," Dael added, but neither of them believed the words.
Unknown to them, their worry was being echoed across the city.
In the upper council chamber of the Luna Assembly, Guildmistress Celia Mohr peered at a crystal globe swirling with dark mana.
"He's changed the flow of this city's threads," she murmured.
Behind her, her assistant shivered. "Should we find him?"
Celia shook her head. "Not yet. The Tower tests more than power. Let's see what emerges."
Floor Twelve: The Feast of Lies
The trial was different.
Kian sat at a long table. Food piled high—roasted meat, golden bread, fruits gleaming like jewels. He hadn't eaten in what felt like days. Across from him sat versions of people he loved—his siblings, his parents, even a younger version of himself.
They smiled.
"Stay," said Dael.
"You've done enough," whispered Nyla.
"Just rest," murmured his mother.
Kian's stomach growled. His hands trembled.
But he shook his head.
"This is not real."
The moment he said it, the food rotted. The walls burned. The people screamed, twisting into flame-wrapped horrors.
He stood, eyes cold. "I am not here to rest."
System Notification: Trial of Deception Passed.
Reward: Shadow Pulse (Area Damage Spell)
Kian stepped over the burning illusions and into the next chamber.
Floor Thirteen: Trial of Chains
A pit of darkness. In the center, a chained creature—a man-shaped shadow with golden eyes and scars made of light.
The moment Kian entered, the chains hissed, and the creature lunged.
"I am you," it hissed.
"I know," Kian replied, drawing his blades.
The fight was brutal. The creature mirrored his moves, predicted his attacks. Every slash was met with one of equal skill. Kian realized this wasn't just his reflection. It was what he would become if he gave in—if he let hatred and vengeance consume him.
He needed to break the pattern.
Kian dropped his weapons and stepped in close. The creature struck—but instead of defending, Kian embraced it.
The shadow paused.
"I don't reject you," Kian whispered. "But I won't be you."
The chains exploded. The shadow screamed and turned into dust.
System Notification: Trial Passed. Title Gained—Chainbreaker
By the time Kian reached the fourteenth floor, his mana was low, his body bruised, and his soul strained. But his spirit was burning.
He rested by a mana spring nestled in a silver grove. The grove shimmered, untouched by the trials. The spring's water cooled his thoughts.
Kian closed his eyes.
"I will become more than they expect. I will rise not for revenge, but for freedom."
The silver leaves rustled, as if in agreement.
Back in the city…
Whispers now danced through Draegor's taverns and alleyways.
"A lone climber reached the thirteenth floor."
"They say he's unregistered."
"They say he's raising the dead."
Some were terrified. Some intrigued. But all were watching.
In the shadows beneath the old cathedral, a man smiled.
"So the Hollow Banner grows roots."
And in the tower, Kian rose.
He was not done.
End of Chapter 9