Trial of Overcoming

Thank goodness that ended quickly.

For all the bravado he'd made his entrance with, the Death Knight had gone down easy.

Come to think of it, we never even really fought, did we?

His sword and my dagger had crossed exactly once — and even that could hardly be called an engagement, since I was the one who gave ground.

He felt strong somehow… was I just imagining it?

Honestly, if we'd fought for real, I would have lost. I simply didn't know that the Death Knight had grown impatient and dug his own grave.

Well, I cleared it, so no harm done.

The moment the Death Knight died, the lesser undead scattered around it crumbled into dust. The blighted earth wouldn't come back to life, but it would recover little by little.

I should get some rest.

With no way of knowing how long the next trial would drag on, if I didn't rest now I was going to wither away and die for real. I found a reasonably level patch of ground and closed my eyes. The tension I'd been holding finally drained away, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and with that last thought, my mind sank into darkness.

The trial's content was nothing much at all. A single sentence — Overcome it — written and nothing more. No explanation, no instructions.

Overcome what, exactly?

Scratching my head, I looked ahead. A red carpet stretched out before me, laid down as if to guide my way.

Looks like I'm supposed to follow it.

I hesitated a moment, then started walking. There was no other option anyway. When it came to trials, the Tower of Trials was nothing if not honest.

No other way to do it.

That was, in truth, the biggest reason of all. This trial had nothing in it but this red carpet. The carpet was the only clue to what the trial demanded.

"Would it kill them to at least tell me what I'm supposed to overcome…"

To overcome something is to conquer it. But there was nothing here to conquer.

I half expected my trauma to show up…

Though truthfully, nothing qualified as a trauma. The only other candidate I could think of was Hubris.

The fight with Hubris is burned into my brain, after all.

An overwhelming defeat. Even for someone as used to losing as I was, that loss had ached down to the bone. A memory like that would certainly count as something to overcome.

"So when is this thing supposed to start…"

Over ten minutes of walking, and there'd been nothing. Only the red carpet, stretching on and on.

Don't tell me the trial is 'overcome this boredom'?

If it were, it would be a truly magnificent trial. Because I already wanted out.

Another ten minutes of walking, and the red carpet finally ended.

Is this the destination?

But there was nothing at the destination. Just the same darkness as where I'd started.

So what's even supposed to be the trial here…

Grumbling inwardly, I stepped onto the endpoint. And in that instant, the scenery around me changed. Buildings began to rise out of the empty void — not just any buildings, but buildings engulfed in flames.

This place…!

The surroundings were familiar. The burning buildings, the street. I had seen this scene before — before my regression.

So that's what 'overcoming' meant…

I wanted to curse the system for dragging this scene back in front of my eyes, but I couldn't afford to stand frozen here. I began to walk the street I knew too well.

BOOM! CRASH! CRACK!

The world around me collapsed and erupted. The detail was so perfect that anyone might have mistaken it for reality. I walked slowly, taking in my surroundings. Before my regression, this had been an everyday view. Everything burning away ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠into nothing, corpses strewn across the ground.

Rumble… rumble…

The sound of fire burning was the only thing that rang painfully loud.

After walking a while, I arrived at an apartment building.

Our home.

The trial's instructions, and this space. If my guess was right, then the thing I was meant to overcome was waiting inside. I climbed the stairs and stopped in front of the door.

"Hoo."

I let out one long breath, then opened the door and stepped inside. The smell of blood hit me in waves.

In the entryway, Seonha lay bleeding. In the living room, my father. In the kitchen, my mother. All of them collapsed on the floor.

"Ha."

My family's deaths. The thing I feared most in the world, and the past I most wanted to forget. I looked at each of them slowly, one by one. Before my regression, I hadn't even been able to look at them properly before I fled this place.

Mom.

Mom had a hole punched through her stomach.

Dad.

Dad's throat had been carved open by a blade.

Seonha.

Seonha was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a little different. There were no cuts from a knife — but his whole body was covered in bruises. I couldn't see it back then. Now I could.

"Jin-ah…"

"Son…"

"Oppa…"

Then the three corpses began to move. They drifted toward me, slow and steady.

"Why did you disappear?" my mother said.

"Why didn't you believe us?" my father said.

"Oppa, why didn't you save me?" Seonha said.

…

I gave no answer. I simply stood and listened, hanging on every single word they spoke.

"You had that power. You could have saved us, couldn't you?"

"That's right."

I answered my mother's question.

"You should have saved Mom and Seonha…"

"You're right."

I answered my father's words too.

"Oppa, it hurt."

"I know. It hurt so much."

I empathized with my brother's pain. I just stood there, motionless.

CHOMP! CHOMP! CHOMP!

The three of them hurled themselves at me where I stood and began to tear at my flesh, like zombies starved for it, craving my meat. And I stayed still.

Is this what I wanted to hear…?

The anxiety that had lived inside me all this time — what if my family blamed me? What if I failed to protect them this time too? I had wrestled with those questions over and over. Even with my regression, the memory of their deaths remained seared clearly into my mind.

And still…

This trial had eased something in me. Hearing the words of blame had made my heart a little lighter. I never knew that having someone hurl accusations at you could be this much of a relief.

Thank you…

Never even getting the chance to hear their resentment — that was what had truly been unbearable. I looked at the three figures beside me.

"Now then. Time to end this dogshit trial."

I understood now what the trial wanted me to overcome. But it wouldn't end here. I had to move toward the final goal.

Then a system message appeared.

The trial's content had changed. The Trial of Overcoming now displayed its requirements in precise detail.

So the only thing left is Hubris?

The first overcoming had been psychological — facing down the weakness in my heart, the anxiety born of my family's deaths. The other, most likely, was physical — or perhaps an overcoming of despair itself.

Either way, I'm betting it has something to do with Hubris…

I waited a moment, and the scenery began to shift again. The changed landscape was the one I'd seen just before I died.

Knew it.

I waited a little longer, and Hubris appeared. I stared at him. The strongest of them all — the one who'd taken my life and handed me a miserable, crushing defeat.

But he was different from the real thing.

"Are you the one who killed the other six?"

Same speech, same face — but the power and aura he gave off were unmistakably weaker. A knockoff of Hubris. A knockoff, but still stronger than I was right now.

"Hm. No intention of answering, I see?"

Basic Footwork.

Speed.

Instead of answering, I stepped into the footwork. I bored straight down his front and swung my dagger in one motion.

CRUNCH!

My dagger bit into his shoulder. But that was all — I couldn't carve clean ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠through.

"This is fun!"

Excitement ringing in his voice, Hubris swung his fist.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Every time his fist swung, the air around it detonated. I weaved this way and that, evading while I watched for my opening.

Rush in carelessly and I'll get wrecked.

Before my regression, I'd fought him by masking my presence and striking from his blind angles.

Not that it mattered — he read my thoughts anyway.

Fortunately, the knockoff couldn't read minds. I kept probing for an angle, then stepped into my footwork.

Basic Footwork.

Illusion.

The knockoff staggered. I didn't waste the opening — I moved again.

Basic Footwork.

Break.

Shards of debris flew at Hubris, and I charged in right behind them, hurling myself at the knockoff.

I can't win this anyway.

I had given up on winning. Which meant I had to show the system my own kind of overcoming — right here, right now — and force it to acknowledge me.

"Hoo."

I slid the blade into its black scabbard and drew out the broken hilt. The black scabbard wouldn't be enough. I forced mana into the broken hilt, shoving it in against its will.

KEEEING!

As the mana poured in without end, the broken hilt began to recoil, resisting. I didn't stop. I kept forcing mana into it, again and again.

I'm sorry.

Apologizing to the broken blade, I charged forward. And swung the dagger.

BAM!

The broken hilt collided with the knockoff's fist. The world around us exploded into chaos with the roar of the impact.

Trickle.

And what I saw was blood running down the knockoff's cheek. He watched it drip, then grinned slowly and muttered:

"You pass."

Once I'd confirmed the message, I flopped flat on my back on the ground, spread-eagled. I'd gotten plenty of rest during the Trial of Death, so why did I feel more exhausted now than ever?

Now that the trial was over, the system had kindly explained what it had been about. How about telling me that BEFORE the trial starts next time? I grumbled inwardly as I waited — because the Trial of Overcoming was the final trial of the 10th-floor quest. Which meant the Tower was now cleared.

After a moment, the system message appeared.

I closed my eyes for a moment and looked back over the Tower of Trials. Floors one through ten — grueling in every possible sense of the word.

I want to go home and eat a meal Mom cooked. Right now.

Months of nothing but frozen food had left me starving for a home-cooked meal. I wanted to clear the tower and get out of here as fast as I could.

"Tower coin balance."

At my request, the system message appeared.

Seventy thousand Tower Coins. More than enough to buy whatever I wanted and still have some left over.

And right on cue, the system message appeared.

Up to this point, it was the same kind of message I'd seen on every other floor. I waited a little longer, and the message I'd truly been waiting for appeared.