The Thunder Emperor
Crackle-zzzt!
The manifestation of Noe-je has been released.
Noe-je had appeared for a mere five seconds, swept his arm once, and vanished.
The result was staggering.
Nothing less than the end of a Ranker.
“Huh.”
A dazed sound slipped from Hyun Si-woon’s lips. Strength drained from his entire body, and he nearly crumpled to the floor without realizing it.
Is this even a power that makes sense?
Five seconds. In that span, a silver-haired man had appeared, assessed the situation, flicked his hand once to seal a Ranker, and disappeared.
“Ha… hahaha.”
Ha-wol seemed to find the situation equally absurd, letting out a hollow laugh.
“At this level, he ranks above even this lady’s prime. Truly, Noe-je is Noe-je.”
She marveled openly. Ha-wol herself had once been called the Sword God—strong enough to reach Rank 15—yet even she was offering pure, unreserved admiration.
Gulp.
Si-woon swallowed dryly without thinking. Only now did the sheer weight of the absurd fortune he had obtained press against his skin.
“Hoo.”
First, sort out his thoughts. He drew a deep breath and forced himself back to his feet. One thing at a time.
Starting with the item lying alone over there. Might as well check that first.
Si-woon picked up the fang-shaped necklace. A familiar holographic window bloomed before his eyes.
◈ A portion of the sealed Ranker Penlark’s power dwells within. Grants the wearer the instincts of a hunting hound.
◈ Durability: 100/100
◈ Weak Point Detection: Enemy vital points appear as red afterimages.
◈ Fang Strike: Successful strikes on vital points are judged critical hits and deal triple damage.
“……!”
Si-woon’s eyes flooded with shock.
Epic? Epic grade?
Considering that Unique-grade items in the Tower of Despair normally only began appearing after the tenth floor, Epic was something that showed up from the fifteenth floor at the earliest. And now an item of that caliber had fallen into the hands of someone who had just cleared the fourth floor.
Weak Point Detection, plus triple damage on vital strikes…
The options were excellent. A single necklace like this would elevate a Climber’s combat power into an entirely different dimension.
“Hmph.”
Ha-wol snorted.
“Why so surprised? You took down a Ranker—this much reward is only natural. If anything, this is on the ordinary side.”
“Ordinary?”
“Of course! To you it may look amazing, but among Rankers no one even bothers with Epic. Penlark was a worthless mongrel, so you only got Epic. The Rankers with any real name to them get sealed into Legendary grade at the very least.”
“…….”
That said… Ha-wol and Noe-je themselves were Normal. Growth-type, of course, but still.
Anyway.
Si-woon allowed himself a satisfied smile and fastened the necklace around his neck. With options this strong, there was no need to hand it over to another party member. As the party’s leader and main dealer, him wearing it was the most efficient choice. Passing it to Kang Si-a would also be efficient… but he’d just give her a better necklace when one appeared later.
While he was still fingering the necklace, something began to take shape slowly in the air.
At first it was only a thin blue mist. The mist soon condensed, knitting itself into a clear human form—long hair of silver-white.
Hup!
Si-woon stumbled back without thinking. The very being who, mere moments ago, had erased a Ranker in five seconds. The ancient Ranker Noe-je now stood revealed—in the same spirit form as Ha-wol.
Pitch-black darkness. A prison of eons where even the flow of time could not be felt.
I was there.
Noe-je—the Thunder Emperor. That title had once shaken the Tower itself. He had ruled every bolt of lightning in the heavens, and when the tip of his spear swept forth, most Rankers trembled in fear.
But what in this world is eternal? Noe-je had been arrogant, and in the end he was defeated. With that defeat he lost everything—power, honor, and freedom itself. Sealed inside the very spear he had wielded, he was cast down beneath the Tower of Despair, into the unknown region only Climbers could ever reach.
It was a sealing without precedent in the Tower’s history, and from a Ranker’s perspective the worst possible kind. There were many ways to seal a Ranker: strip away a portion of their power and exile them, or confine them to a designated space. Those were common. But sealing a Ranker in the world “beneath the Tower”—the lower floors where Climbers dwelt—was a different matter entirely. It consumed a staggering amount of TC and violated the Tower’s own rules. Naturally, the penalty paid by the one who performed the sealing was immense.
Who paid a price like that?
Noe-je despaired. The realm beneath the Tower was accessible only to Climbers. For a Ranker to be trapped in a place he could never enter under his own power meant eternal exile. A perfect prison.
Yet the one who sealed him did not stop there. They planted the phantom of the Thunder Dragon he had once ruled as well. The Thunder Dragon was the shadow born of Noe-je’s own power and arrogance—a destroyer that even most Rankers would struggle to handle. A gatekeeper of despair no mere Climber could ever hope to overcome. It was a clear sentence:
Rot here forever.
At first the injustice burned. Rage swallowed his entire soul. This was a world of the strong devouring the weak. He had simply been strong. He had crushed countless others on his climb to the summit. How could that be a crime? He accepted the defeat. But who would bury him for eternity in such a petty, vicious fashion? He could not even guess. He had stacked up so many grudges that those who hated him were beyond counting.
So he waited inside that rage, swearing revenge, hoping for a miracle someday. Yet across eons, no one came.
No—two beings had once set foot in that space. Foolish Climbers who had likely lost their way. They turned to dust at a single roar of the Thunder Dragon. Hope sank into despair, and despair sank further into endless nothing.
Time passed. How much, he could not know. A thousand years? Ten thousand? Noe-je gradually felt himself going mad. Even an immortal Ranker was no match for the weathering of endless solitude and emptiness. His steel will crumbled like sand; the rage that had burned so hot cooled to ash and scattered.
On the threshold of that madness he squeezed out the last of his reason and made a single vow—his final shackle and his only thread of hope.
If… if by any chance someone should free me from this hell—
It did not matter who. Even the hated rival who had broken him. Even some insignificant worm of a Climber.
I will offer everything I am and serve him as my lord. I will become his spear and raise him to the supreme existence. I will devote my remaining eternity to him as my master.
Yet even that was empty monologue. No one could reach a place like this. The vow became a hollow echo and scattered into the dark.
He felt his mind slipping further. Who he had been, why he was sealed here, even the grudge itself—all of it was beginning to blur when—
Flash!
His consciousness blacked out and then lit again. For the first time in ages he felt the sensations of the outside world. Before his eyes stood a worthless Ranker with a dog’s head, claws bared toward someone. And that someone was a Climber of faint presence—holding the spear that had once been his.
Noe-je’s judgment was instant. No thought was required. Across eons his soul understood everything by pure instinct.
One second.
That Climber.
The one holding his spear, the Thunder Dragon Spear. The one who had awakened him. A faint but unmistakable connection to the spear. Proof of a contract.
My lord.
Two seconds.
Situation.
A lowly Hound-race Ranker was directing killing intent at his lord. A crisis. That was why he had been summoned. Understood.
Three seconds.
The vow.
To the one who woke him he would give everything. He would become that one’s spear. The vow still held. No—it had to hold. It was the last thread that had kept him intact.
Whoosh!
That was as far as Noe-je’s thoughts went. Anything more was unnecessary. The dog-headed thing that had dared bare its claws at his lord had to be punished. That was the end.
Five seconds arrived, and Noe-je felt the power that had been realized in the world begin to melt away. For the first time in eons he had tasted the outside—freedom. That thrilling, intoxicating sensation was scattering like a mirage. The lightning particles that had formed his body lost their force and dissolved into the air.
Ah…
A vast emptiness crashed over his soul. Must he return to that cold, dark prison again? The eternal darkness waiting after a single flash of light would be crueler than before.
Then he felt it. His power was not vanishing—it was being drawn back into a certain “vessel” that held him. That vessel was his other self, the Thunder Dragon Spear. And the one gripping it possessed a faint yet unyielding presence.
In that moment Noe-je understood every rule.
This spear must grow.
For him to unleash greater power and remain longer in this reality, the spear that served as the medium had to become stronger. When that growth reached its peak, he would reclaim his full strength and return.
His gaze turned toward the young Climber who now stared at him with startled eyes.
Which means my lord must grow stronger as well.
That was the extent of Noe-je’s thought.
“Wh-wh-wh-what?!”
Ha-wol reacted first, her voice leaping in shock.
“That’s Noe-je?! Noe-je is standing here looking exactly like this lady!”
Gulp. Her voice trembled. Even she, once called the Sword God, could not help but tense before the weight of the name Noe-je. The ancient tyrant. One of the highest Rankers of the old era.
Si-woon was startled as well, yet he quickly recovered his calm. Something felt off. The overwhelming pressure that had annihilated Penlark was nowhere to be found. Noe-je simply regarded him with quiet, deep eyes.
“You are Noe-je? You saved my life. Thank you.”
Si-woon bowed his head first. Having received help, offering thanks was only proper. That plain greeting actually put Ha-wol on edge. The old tales said that anyone who crossed Noe-je’s temper was fried by lightning without exception. In his presence, the only way to survive was to prostrate oneself as abjectly as possible and show every courtesy.
In that moment—
Rustle.
Noe-je’s spirit form began to move. Floating in the air, he slowly stepped down until he stood before Si-woon.
“St-stop right there.”
Flustered, Ha-wol moved as if to block Si-woon’s path.
“Even if you are the ancient Thunder Emperor, this child is the only disciple this lady has ever acknowledged. Lay a hand on him and this lady’s sword will not stay still!”
A resolute will filled her voice. Impressive, really. But Master—both of you are spirits. You can’t actually use physical force…
Noe-je ignored Ha-wol completely and planted himself squarely in front of Si-woon. Then, without the slightest hesitation—
Thud.
He dropped to one knee.
“……!”
A brief silence fell, and Noe-je’s voice flowed out. The words would have staggered Ha-wol if she heard them fully.