Chapter 75 – Climbing Higher

The remainder of the thirty-first floor passed without any major incidents.
Not because the floor was easy.
Far from it.
The monsters were stronger than anything they had faced below the twentieth floor. Many hunted in groups. Some used traps. Others possessed enough intelligence to retreat when losing and return later with reinforcements.
It forced Team Snail to adapt again.
Every floor seemed determined to teach them something new.
Aerin learned patience.
Mira learned observation.
Kael learned that even careful planning sometimes failed.
And when plans failed, they had to survive anyway.

One afternoon, while crossing a valley filled with giant stone pillars, they found themselves surrounded by a pack of creatures resembling wolves.
At least from a distance.
Up close, the differences became obvious.
Their bodies were larger than horses.
Dark scales covered their backs.
Their eyes glowed silver.
And unlike normal wolves, they did not rush forward immediately.
They watched.
Studied.
Waited.
“That’s disturbing,” Mira muttered.
“I preferred the ones that attacked immediately.”
Aerin drew his sword.
“I preferred the ones that looked like wolves.”
“They do look like wolves.”
“No.”
Aerin pointed.
“Wolves don’t have scales.”

The battle lasted nearly twenty minutes.
Long enough for everyone to become exhausted.
The creatures worked together.
Whenever Aerin pressured one, another attacked from behind.
Whenever Mira prepared medicine or support, one attempted to target her directly.
Even Kael struggled to find a pattern at first.
Because there wasn’t just one.
The creatures changed positions constantly.
Adjusted.
Adapted.
Learned.
It felt less like fighting monsters and more like fighting trained soldiers.
Eventually they won.
But not easily.
When the last creature fell, Aerin sat down immediately.
“I hate this floor.”
Mira collapsed beside him.
“I agree.”
The mysterious man remained standing.
Of course.
He didn’t even seem tired.
Mira pointed accusingly.
“You’re not allowed to look that relaxed.”
“I wasn’t doing anything.”
“Exactly.”

That evening, Kael spent extra time studying the battle.
Not the monsters.
The team.
Lately she had begun noticing something.
Without realizing it, they were becoming coordinated.
Not just strong.
Connected.
Aerin already knew how Mira moved.
Mira already anticipated Kael’s decisions.
Even during chaotic fights, they naturally covered each other’s weaknesses.
Months ago they had been three individuals climbing together.
Now they were truly a team.
The realization made her strangely satisfied.
She didn’t mention it.
Of course.
That would require talking about feelings.
And she preferred not to suffer unnecessarily.

Several days later, they reached the test area leading toward the thirty-second floor.
Unlike previous tests, there was no monster waiting.
No puzzle.
No arena.
Only a massive stone gate.
The gate stood alone in the middle of a clearing.
Ancient.
Weathered.
Silent.
Mira immediately became suspicious.
“I don’t trust it.”
Aerin nodded.
“Same.”
Kael approached carefully.
The moment her hand touched the stone—
Words appeared.
Not carved.
Not written.
Appeared.
Glowing softly across the surface.
Everyone froze.

The gate displayed a single sentence.
Only those willing to abandon certainty may proceed.
Mira stared.
“What does that even mean?”
Nobody answered.
Mostly because nobody knew.
The gate remained motionless.
Waiting.
Patient.
As if expecting them to understand.

For nearly an hour they examined it.
Nothing happened.
No hidden mechanism.
No additional instructions.
Just the sentence.
Eventually Aerin sighed.
“I have an idea.”
Mira immediately looked worried.
“Why do you sound confident?”
“Because I think I know what it means.”
“Now I’m even more worried.”

Aerin stepped forward.
Placed his hand on the gate.
And simply walked.
Straight into solid stone.
The impact echoed across the clearing.
Mira covered her face.
Kael closed her eyes.
The mysterious man looked away.

Aerin stumbled backward.
Rubbing his forehead.
“That wasn’t it.”
“No,” Mira replied.
“It definitely wasn’t.”

The answer came much later.
Not from intelligence.
Not from strength.
Not from logic.
Ironically, it came from Mira.
Who was pacing around the clearing and complaining loudly.
As usual.

“This makes no sense.”
She kicked a stone.
“We don’t know what the test is.”
Another kick.
“We don’t know what the answer is.”
Another kick.
“We don’t even know if this gate is real.”
She froze.
Everyone looked at her.
Mira blinked.
Then slowly looked toward the gate.
“Oh.”

A few minutes later, she stepped forward.
Without certainty.
Without confidence.
Without knowing if it would work.
And walked directly through the stone.
As if it had never existed.

The silence afterward lasted several seconds.
Then Mira began laughing.
“I hate this floor.”
Aerin immediately followed her.
Then Kael.
Finally the mysterious man.
The gate accepted all four of them.

The thirty-second floor welcomed them with rain.
Endless rain.
The sky remained hidden behind dark clouds.
Water covered the landscape.
Streams.
Rivers.
Lakes.
Marshes.
Everywhere they looked, water dominated the floor.

The first thing Mira said was:
“I hate this floor too.”

For the next week they traveled through storms.
The rain rarely stopped.
Clothes remained damp.
Boots remained muddy.
Everything became annoying.
Even Kael looked irritated.
Which amused Mira greatly.
Until she slipped into a river.
Then everyone laughed at her instead.

One evening, while sheltering beneath an enormous tree, the mysterious man suddenly spoke.
“Do you know what I think?”
Nobody trusted that opening sentence.
Especially Mira.
“What?”
“I think we’re changing.”
Aerin blinked.
“We’ve been changing for months.”
“No.”
The man looked toward the distant rain.
“I mean differently.”

Nobody interrupted.
The fire crackled softly.
Rain continued falling.
And for the first time, the man seemed unusually thoughtful.
“When I met you on the eleventh floor, you were strong.”
His gaze shifted toward Aerin.
“Now you’re stronger than many climbers I’ve met.”
Then toward Mira.
“You were learning medicine.”
A small smile appeared.
“Now you’re becoming an expert.”
Finally—
He looked toward Kael.
Longer than the others.
“You were searching for answers.”
Kael frowned.
“And now?”
The man hesitated.
As if choosing his words carefully.
“Now I think the answers are searching for you.”
The fire crackled again.
Nobody laughed.
Because for some reason—
The words felt uncomfortably true.

Later that night, after everyone fell asleep, Kael sat alone beneath the rain-covered branches.
The three joined shards rested in her hands.
Quiet.
Motionless.
Waiting.
Just like her.
Thirty-two floors.
Three shards.
No Riven.
And more questions than ever before.
Yet for the first time since entering the Tower—
She no longer felt like she was wandering blindly.
Something was pulling her forward.
Toward the thirty-fifth floor.
Toward the next shard.
Toward something much bigger than she understood.
And deep inside, a feeling she couldn’t explain continued growing stronger.
The feeling that the Tower already knew her name.
Even if she still didn’t know why.