Remnants of Magitech

Twenty-nine years had passed since the Mythic Tower first thrust its way into the heavens.

From those who awakened in that chaotic first era to the fresh novices who had only recently unlocked their potential, memories of the 4th Floor were bound to be largely the same. There was the constant peril of getting lost amidst the suffocating blanket of fog. There was the ever-looming threat of the ticking clock, running out before one could locate the ascent. One misstep could send an unwary climber plummeting down a sheer cliffside into the abyss, and lurking within the blind mist were relentless monster ambushes.

It was a floor fraught with every conceivable hazard—the true threshold where the real climb began.

Because it sat in the lower tiers, a decent amount of strategic information had circulated across the internet. Combined with the reconnaissance gathered from the lower Dungeons, roughly eight hours had become the accepted average time for a safe ascent.

Yet in a place like this, two hours and twenty-seven minutes?

"Even with your experience, shouldn't the monster ambushes have made that impossible?" Wahsh asked, bobbing on invisible currents beside Mu-saeng as the man bounded effortlessly up the rugged incline.

Giant mosquitoes. Murderous parasitic ticks. Vicious razor-tusked wild boars, not to mention the dreaded man-eating deer that stalked the mist.

Instead of answering with words, Mu-saeng unzipped a side pouch of his backpack and retrieved a small spray bottle.

"What is that?"

"Monster repellent."

"...What?"

"I brewed it myself. Turns out it works like a charm."

Pshht, pshht.

Mu-saeng casually spritzed the mist over his shoulders, chest, and arms. Wahsh adjusted his black horn-rimmed glasses with a frantic nudge of a wing and darted in closer, eyes wide behind the lenses.

"Re-repellent? You made it? How?"

"What do you mean, how? Just mixed it right."

"Stop being evasive and give me a proper explanation—"

"Werewolf blood," Mu-saeng said nonchalantly. "Mixed in with a generous pinch of cinnamon."

"...And what on earth made you think of that?"

Wahsh's tiny eyes flared with keen curiosity. Mu-saeng didn't even look back at him. He paused for half a second, glancing at the bark of a nearby tree, checking the moisture of the damp soil beneath his boots, and then gently swept his palm through the hanging fog.

"The boss of the 3rd Dungeon is a werewolf. Wolves carry a pretty imposing presence at the top of the food chain, don't they? Thick fur, predatory scent. I figured bugs like mosquitoes wouldn't dare buzz near one. So I gave it a shot."

Shifting his footing, Mu-saeng picked a new heading and resumed his steady march.

The fog was dense enough to choke out vision past a few yards, and this was an untamed mountain. There were no trail markers, no cleared footpaths—just raw, treacherous rock and dense undergrowth.

"The wild boars and man-eating deer steer clear of the scent too... Well, as long as I don't stomp right into the center of their dens, that is. If you intrude on their immediate territory, their eyes flip red and they'll charge no matter how much you spray."

Yet despite the zero visibility, Mu-saeng navigated the slopes without a second of hesitation.

It meant he understood this mountain down to its marrow. He knew every landmark hidden in the terrain, the exact rhythm of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠his own stride, the precise pace required, and the exact distance he could travel before brushing against the perimeter of a monster nest.

"That was a system mechanic I personally designed," Wahsh muttered, puffing up his chest. "Utilizing resources obtained from a lower floor to overcome the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠trials of the floor above. I made sure that design philosophy remained viable up through the 10th Floor at least."

"Huh? You built that into the Tower, Wahsh?"

"Of course I did! Dammit, this is all because of those bloody Dungeons! Those incompetent bastards running the system did such a trash job managing the thresholds!"

Wahsh began squawking in rage, flapping his stubby wings in midair. An unexpected outburst blaming the other administrators and the Dungeons?

Mu-saeng paused for a beat, the realization dawning on him.

"Ah."

Under normal circumstances, monsters slain within the Tower yielded no physical drops or loot. However, that didn't mean a climber couldn't harvest materials from the environment with their own two hands. One could kill the werewolf boss on the 3rd Floor, drain its blood into a vial, and carry it up to the 4th Floor. The blood wouldn't simply vanish into thin air.

The real issue was time and human psychology.

When climbers kill the werewolf, they're granted a skill. Even if their awakening allows versatile growth, who in their right mind stops to butcher a boss corpse and drain its blood when their adrenaline is surging? And those with single-attribute abilities who automatically acquire their skill just face the prompt: ascend to the next floor, or exit.

Climbers were entirely absorbed by the rush of acquiring new powers and leveling up. Who would ever think to mess with a slain boss's viscera?

In other words, the only reason Mu-saeng had discovered this repellent trick was that he had traversed the 3rd and 4th Dungeons countless times over thirteen years. It was an insight achievable solely by an experienced sherpa who had guided hundreds of expeditions through the Dungeons rather than blitzing through the Tower.

"Pfft, but you can't just chalk that up to the Dungeons existing," Mu-saeng chuckled. "None of the other sherpas ever went this far to—"

"I know that! Dammit, that's what makes it so infuriating!"

"...Why does that make you mad?"

"Never you mind! Just keep climbing!" Wahsh squawked shrilly.

The ex-administrator had every reason to feel sour. On the 3rd Floor, and now on the 4th, Wahsh hadn't needed to lift a single finger. Kim Mu-saeng—a mere human he had once scoffed at as utterly primitive—had fulfilled the hidden conditions entirely under his own steam.

Wahsh hated the idea of a contractor relying on him for everything, but he despised feeling completely useless even more!

Naturally, Mu-saeng couldn't read the intricate, petulant pride swirling inside the rubber duck's mind.

About an hour later, as the steep incline leveled out near the summit, Wahsh broke the silence.

"Kim Mu-saeng. Why didn't you climb the 4th Floor back then?"

Mu-saeng remained quiet for a long stretch, his boots steadily crunching against the frosty scree. Only when his sole pressed onto the flat stone of the peak did he finally reply.

"Well... as long as I'm climbing it now, does it matter?"

No matter how capable he had been inside the Dungeons, there had always been that lingering knot of dread and insecurity—the fear that his survival tricks might amount to nothing within the true Tower.

"Alright, summit reached!"

Even if he didn't lean on Wahsh, and even if Wahsh couldn't exercise administrator authority, having a reliable partner at his side made all the difference ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in the world...

"Kkwaak? What kind of answer is that? That doesn't address my question at all!"

Naturally, Wahsh was entirely oblivious to the warmth in Mu-saeng's heart.

The difference was night and day. His previous record of two hours and twenty-seven minutes had been slashed to a staggering one hour and twenty-four minutes.

"Man... that feels good."

Between soloing Floors 1 through 3 and the passive stat doubling granted by Steel Bone, Mu-saeng's physical vessel was incomparable to the man he had been just weeks ago.

He had grown stronger to climb higher, and climbing higher made him stronger still. It was the virtuous cycle of ascension that every climber dreamed of. Savoring the electric jolt of another round of all-stat increases washing through his veins, Mu-saeng grinned broadly.

"Hey Wahsh, was there no extra time-trial condition for the 4th Floor? Like reaching the top in under five hours or something?"

"...Hmph. You're as greedy as you are primitive. Don't worry, the 5th Floor has plenty in store for you."

Wahsh pushed up his glasses and shook his feathered head, though Mu-saeng didn't notice the subtle smirk tugging at the edge of the duck's yellow bill.

"Let's do this!"

A column of brilliant light enveloped him.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

What met Mu-saeng's eyes was a bleak, windswept ridge. Barely a shrub grew on the barren hill, the scarred ground littered with chaotic heaps of grey rubble. Whenever an Awakener drew near, those piles of stone would assemble into hulking stone golems. The objective of the 5th Floor was straightforward: shatter the constructs and harvest their cores.

Mu-saeng clenched his fists and strode toward the nearest cluster of boulders.

"Poison won't work on these guys..."

On this floor, Sraken's Poison Fang would be completely useless.

"Kkwaak! Of course not. An artificial construct is entirely different from a flesh-and-blood monster."

Harvesting a golem's core was notoriously difficult. First, the core's location differed from golem to golem. Unless a climber possessed a high-tier appraisal or structural analysis skill, the only way to find it was to systematically smash the construct apart piece by piece.

Second, their regeneration was absurdly swift. Unless a party could deliver continuous, linked heavy strikes or deal a singular blow powerful enough to obliterate both chassis and core in an instant, the golem would simply reassemble its fractured limbs. Because of this, standard doctrine for clearing the 5th Floor recommended a balanced party of at least three climbers.

Rumble, rumble, crash!

The ground shuddered. Massive boulders levitated into the air, snapping together with deafening clatter to form a towering humanoid shape. Standing before it felt like preparing to engage a dump truck with bare hands.

"GROOOOOOOO!"

The stone golem roared, its speed belying its colossal bulk as it lunged forward. Mu-saeng's eyes flashed cold. Fists clenched tight, he locked onto the rough-hewn surface of the golem's left ankle.

"Shut up. You're too damn loud."

He planted his weight and snapped out a straight punch.

BOOOOOOM!

A shockwave ripped through the air as the golem's left ankle detonated into a shower of pulverized gravel.

"GRO-GROOO?!"

"Do stone golems get startled, Wahsh? They're not even alive."

Standard climbers were advised to form a team. To solo this floor, one needed high-tier awakening abilities and potent offensive skills. But that was for ordinary climbers.

"Well... they may be artificial, but even magitech has self-preservation routines when confronted by a savage like you."

Mu-saeng's total stats had already matched those of Park Dohyun, a veteran of the 37th Floor, before he had even tackled the 4th Floor. After clearing it, those numbers had surged once more. Who cared if the golem was immune to neurotoxins?

"Hup!"

Mu-saeng closed the distance and drove his hips forward. Planting his rear foot into the dirt, he anchored his core and funneled the rotational force of his entire torso straight down his arm.

"I've watched the high-rankers fight for over a decade!"

With the Power Enhancement Gloves (C) flaring with a deep blue aura, the blow landed with apocalyptic weight.

KABOOOOOOM!

The golem's left knee disintegrated. Mu-saeng knew the structural anatomy of giant constructs inside and out. The moment a towering biped lost its balance, down it went. Rapid regeneration or not, physics still applied.

"GROOOOOO!"

As it tipped over, the golem swung a boulder-sized fist downward in desperation. The massive stone limb blocked out the sky, carrying enough kinetic force to shatter every bone in a normal man's body. But Mu-saeng had no intention of clashing fists head-on like an idiot. He had plenty of room to maneuver.

"This isn't a scenic tourist spot, and I'm not standing around to take a hit from a rolling boulder!"

Whoosh!

"Groo?!"

Mu-saeng rocketed into the air, leaping clear above the collapsing three-meter frame.

It was one of the prime artifacts he had seized from the Korea One Way Group bodyguards. Hovering above the golem's crumbling cranium, Mu-saeng pulled back his fist with a ferocious grin.

"Those silver-spoon climbers had all this firepower to themselves while climbing..."

Adding the accelerating momentum of freefall to his swing, he drove his knuckle downward straight into the construct's upper torso.

"...No wonder they made it look so easy!"

CRRRRAAAAASH!

The devastating strike demolished the golem's head and caved in its stone ribcage. Exposed amidst the splintered rock was a glowing sphere pulsing with magical energy—the Golem Core.

Rumble! The golem's remaining limbs spasmed as magical runes attempted to pull loose rocks together to regenerate, but it was far too late.

"Eat this!"

Mu-saeng unleashed a blinding barrage of hammer-blows. Stone chips, gravel, and cracked slabs rained down around him as his fists pounded the chassis into dust.

"Grooo..."

Within seconds, all movement ceased. The light within the core flickered and died.

"So... Wahsh, what's the hidden condition this time? How many minutes do I have to clear this in?"

Total time spent taking down the first golem: five minutes and forty-nine seconds. Mu-saeng smirked, fairly pleased with his pace. But Wahsh adjusted his horn-rimmed glasses with an ominous, solemn expression.

"If it takes you nearly six minutes just to handle a run-of-the-mill stone golem... meeting this floor's hidden condition might prove rather difficult."

"...What?" Mu-saeng blinked, tilting his head. Even an elite three-man party couldn't bring down a 5th-floor golem in under five minutes. What kind of insane hidden condition was this?

Wahsh looked toward the crest of the desolate ridge.

"Gather two more cores. Then we go to meet the Guardian."

"The Guardian?"

The title rang a distant bell. Before Mu-saeng could search his memory, Wahsh jogged it for him.

"The one who crafted these stone golems... the final sentinel left behind on the 5th Floor by Maia."

"Maia...? Maia?! As in Sorcerer Maia?!"

Now Mu-saeng understood why Wahsh sounded so dead serious, why the rubber duck carried a rare trace of tension. This was only the 5th Floor.

"Yes," Wahsh replied, his voice uncharacteristically grim. "After her work here was finished, she was transferred higher up. The very same Sorcerer who reigns as the boss of the 55th Floor."

Earning the hidden rewards of this floor was not going to be a walk in the park.