The Tower.
Who built it?
What was it built for?
A place where people are dragged in without anyone knowing.
From all manner of parallel worlds, all manner of races are brought here. Knowing nothing, they compete against one another and climb the Tower.
And at the end of it all, there was a young man who had brought the finale to a close alone.
Having driven the holy sword into the reverse scale beneath the red dragon’s jaw, he leaned back against its corpse and sat down to rest, as if exhausted.
If he had his way, he would have sprawled out on the floor right then and there.
Splash.
But the blood that had flowed from the red dragon’s corpse had long since pooled into a sea of blood (血海). His stomach was not strong enough to lie down in this sticky place, reeking of iron.
He gave a faint snort.
“My word.”
A hollow laugh escaped him anew.
“A Heavenly Killing Star with a weak stomach.”
A Heavenly Killing Star, one meant to be drenched in blood and driven mad by murderous intent, had a weak stomach. If the people of his hometown in the Fourth Murim heard this, they would no doubt make it into drinking gossip and roar with laughter.
Ding!
[Congratulations! Damcheon!]
Had this damned system somehow seen through his desire to return home? It offered its congratulations for clearing the 10th floor even faster than usual, when it handed out rewards.
‘Damn. I’ve gotten completely used to the foreign language now. I’ll probably make a few slips of the tongue even after I go back.’
Whether he did or not,
the system remained faithful to its role.
[You have cleared the Tower’s 10th floor!]
[You may return to your original world!]
[Would you like to return to the 《Fourth Murim》?]
[Yes/No?]
There was no need to ask.
“……Yes. Yeah. I’m going back.”
He was, at last,
going home.