Heavenly Punishment
Robin did not give up even after his trump card had been shut down.
He scraped together whatever mana and strength he had left, determined to keep fighting Do-yun, but after the long chase he was finally driven into a dead end.
“Wow. You really don’t know when to quit running.”
Do-yun clicked his tongue as he looked down at the elf in front of him.
The body that had taken a direct Bash still lay smashed against the cliff face. The impact had left a long crack running through the bedrock. Even so, Robin had refused to let go of his weapon until the very instant the shock knocked him unconscious.
“Impressive. Seriously impressive.”
Do-yun genuinely admired the stubbornness as he sheathed his sword. He had no intention of finishing Robin off just yet.
I’ve got a lot of questions I want answered.
Starting with whatever that talk about the spirit had been, all the way to every scrap of information Robin might hold about the Tower of Ascension. Every challenger seemed to keep at least one unexpected card hidden up their sleeve. An opportunity to take another one alive might never come again.
With a soft rustle, Do-yun gathered nearby vines and bound Robin tightly from head to toe. Once he finished, something still felt insufficient.
He could probably snap these with raw strength.
Vines, no matter how tough, were still just plants. While he searched for a better way to restrain his prisoner, an idea finally clicked into place.
“I’ll cut some contaminated vines instead.”
Flora corrupted by a Mana Stone gained hardness on an entirely different level. He hoisted the unconscious Robin onto his shoulder, returned to the earlier Mana Stone site, and quickly located the blackened plants he wanted. The shattered beehive lying beside them also caught his eye.
“Right. There was this too.”
Robin’s sudden attack earlier had kept him from searching properly. A closer look now revealed something surprisingly useful.
◈ When ingested, the user cannot use mana for 1 hour.
What had once been an elixir that amplified mana now produced the exact opposite effect after corruption by a Mana Stone.
“Might as well take this too.”
Feeding it to Robin would seal off any unexpected variables. Do-yun first twisted the blackened vines into rope-like bindings, then considered how to force the foul-smelling Erosion Honey into his prisoner.
If I touch this with my bare hands I’ll probably get sick.
As a compromise he plucked a large nearby leaf, swirled it through the honey until it was thoroughly coated, and shoved the whole thing into Robin’s mouth.
“Ugh.”
The taste apparently matched the nightmarish appearance. Robin groaned and regained consciousness. After scanning his surroundings and grasping the situation, he fixed Do-yun with a murderous glare.
“What? You gonna do something about it?”
Staring was the only option left to him. Do-yun studied the uncooperative elf and weighed his next move. How was he supposed to pry that stubborn mouth open?
“By the way… are you an elf?”
The ears half-hidden under the hood were sharply pointed—exactly the trait every story gave to elves.
“Kuh… Just kill me!”
Even the dialogue was pure stereotypical elf prisoner. Types like this never broke their pride, not even with a blade at their throat. Threatening his life probably wouldn’t work.
“Let’s make a deal.”
So Do-yun played a new card. Meeting Robin’s murderous gaze, he tapped the mark etched into his own forehead.
“Answer me honestly, and I’ll return the wind spirit to you.”
The words carried two meanings. First, a genuine offer to hand the spirit back. Second—and more important—a clear warning that silence would mean the wind spirit belonged to Do-yun forever.
Robin’s eyes darted wildly left and right as the implication sank in. This was the same man who had already loosed arrows at Do-yun using that very spirit as leverage; he could never ignore the proposal.
“…Swear it on the name of the World Tree.”
Robin squeezed his eyes shut and spat the words like they tasted bitter. Do-yun merely shrugged and complied.
“Fine.”
“Swear it properly. After you receive answers to three questions, you will free both me and Sylphy.”
Do-yun looked down at the elf trussed tightly in vines. Seeing how desperately Robin clung to the condition, this oath clearly wasn’t ordinary. Some supernatural force of compulsion was almost certainly involved.
“I swear upon the World Tree. If Robin answers three questions, I will free both him and the wind spirit.”
Still, Do-yun decided to play along. Without at least this much, he doubted he would hear a single useful word.
A contract has been established under the name of the World Tree.
Failure to properly fulfill the contract will result in Heavenly Punishment.
The same green energy that had once wrapped around Robin rose again and settled over Do-yun. The system window itself confirmed the binding force of the oath. While he probed the strange new sensation in his body, Do-yun wasted no time asking the first question.
“When did you realize the eighth floor was your world?”
“I never knew the exact floor number. Once I entered, the scenery of the eighth floor simply felt familiar.”
Robin’s expression said he couldn’t understand why anyone would ask something so obvious. Watching him, Do-yun converted speculation into certainty.
Every challenger encounters their own world as they climb the tower.
Judging by the words Lily had muttered unconsciously on the seventh floor, the timeline was right before—or just after—entering the Tower of Ascension. Every challenger except Do-yun already seemed to know this. Just as they had been offered a choice before entering the Tower of Trials, the Tower of Ascension had probably followed a similar process.
Which raised one more question.
What about me?
Do-yun had been forced into the Tower of Ascension by a system bug. Beyond the ninetieth floor—territory no returnee had ever reached, about which nothing was known—would he eventually meet the familiar backdrop of Earth?
Speculation can wait.
He filed the information away and asked the next question.
“What reward did you receive for clearing the Tower of Trials?”
“Incomplete Salvation.”
After a brief pause to choose his words, Robin answered calmly, as though those two words contained everything that needed to be said. Do-yun frowned, wondering if the elf was simply refusing to elaborate, but Robin held himself with the confidence of someone who had already given a complete answer.
“There is no clearer reply than this. You already know that, don’t you?”
He seemed to assume Do-yun had also climbed the Tower of Trials to its peak, and even sought agreement.
If he’s this certain, that really might be the entire reward.
Whether it was the full truth or not, Robin himself clearly believed it was a perfect answer. Do-yun folded his arms and looked down at him.
Nothing ever resolves cleanly, does it?
Every question only spawned new ones. Robin, watching him sink into thought, grew impatient.
“Ask your final question already.”
His eyes had never left the mark on Do-yun’s forehead. Anticipation at soon reclaiming the wind spirit had him practically vibrating.
Why is he this obsessed with the spirit?
Do-yun couldn’t hide his confusion. He clearly remembered the wind spirit attacking Robin earlier. A spirit’s assault only manifested through its own will—which meant that, contrary to Robin’s claim of long friendship, the wind spirit itself felt no such bond.
“Doyun-nim, do we really have to send Sylphy away?”
Ciel, who had somehow grown attached in the short time, used the name she had overheard from Robin.
“Sylphy doesn’t seem to want to leave, you know.”
Do-yun already knew that much. Direct conversation like with the fire spirit was impossible, yet he could still sense the emotions of any spirit bound to him. What the wind spirit felt toward Robin was pure, unmistakable hostility.
And it wasn’t just the wind spirit.
Every spirit present had eagerly joined the attack. Not a single one liked Robin.
Yet Robin is still fanatically obsessed with them.
Persisting with someone who openly hates you is never easy. Robin’s fixation crossed into the abnormal.
“Hey. When exactly are you planning to ask that last question?”
Seeing Do-yun lost in thought again, Robin spoke once more. Plenty of questions still waited. The man before him had reached the summit of the Tower of Trials—something no returnee from Earth had ever managed. Do-yun had simply crushed him with overwhelming stats; combat experience was another matter entirely. Even a few pieces of advice could raise Do-yun’s fighting power dramatically. Beyond that, countless questions about the tower itself remained after only the two most critical ones had been asked.
But none of it is worth handing over the wind spirit.
From the very beginning Do-yun had never intended to honor the contract properly. That was precisely why he had accepted Robin’s terms so readily.
“Wait… you can’t be serious—”
The shift in Do-yun’s atmosphere finally registered. Robin’s expression hardened. Faint fear clouded his eyes as he stared up.
“You would break the contract?! Are you not even afraid of Heavenly Punishment?!”
Robin clearly regarded Heavenly Punishment as a catastrophic penalty. Worry for Do-yun even colored his voice. Yet Do-yun remained completely unconcerned.
At worst it just kills me.
Thanks to the Rune of Immortality he still had one life left. There was nothing to fear.
“Let’s find out just how impressive Heavenly Punishment really is.”
The corner of Do-yun’s mouth lifted at the same moment a blood-red system alert flared before his eyes.
The World Tree confirms that the contracting party possesses no will to fulfill the contract.
Heavenly Punishment begins.
In the next instant a colossal tree filled Do-yun’s vision. Roots thick as mountain ranges sprawled in every direction; branches pierced the sky itself. He understood at once what he was seeing.
The World Tree.
The guardian deity that held dominion over the entire eighth floor had manifested to punish the one who dared break a contract sworn in its name.
A single leaf drifted down from the distant heavens. The blue leaf sank without the slightest tremor, aimed straight at Do-yun. He watched it fall yet could not so much as twitch a finger. This was no physical event—it was a judgment illusion forced directly into his mind by the World Tree.
The moment the leaf brushed his forehead, a cascade of notifications exploded across his vision.
The World Tree severs you from the Spirit Realm.
Spirit responses vanish. Contract attempts become impossible.
All connections with spirits are forcibly severed.
Summoning, sensing, and commanding become impossible.
Your soul is incompatible with the order of nature.
Power of nature-type skills reduced by 70%.
Every trace of spirit energy dwelling in Do-yun’s body vanished as though it had never existed. He could feel nothing. Worse still was the profound sensation of being utterly abandoned by an entire world. That alien sense of loss clawed at the darkest corners of his mind. Uncontrollable suicidal impulses surged up, about to drown every rational thought—
Then a single notification shattered the silence.
All debuffs have been nullified.
The crushing pressure vanished. Limbs that had begun to twist returned fully under his control.
“Hah…!”
Do-yun sucked in a ragged breath and blinked. The world-spanning tree was gone without a trace. The spirits still nested throughout his body remained exactly as they had been.
“H-how… How did you endure Heavenly Punishment?!”
While Do-yun steadied his breathing and reclaimed his composure, Robin’s voice—trembling to the point of madness—hammered against his ears. He turned and met a face twisted with equal parts horror and desperate hope.
The instant their eyes locked, Robin’s gaze wavered. Then, slowly, his head began to lower. At first the bow was reluctant. Soon his back bent, his shoulders collapsed, and finally his forehead pressed against the dirt.
In that utterly humiliating posture, Robin muttered in a broken whisper.
“I’ll do anything. Please… teach me how to overcome Heavenly Punishment.”