Kairos stood before them, unlike his earlier, untouchable presence.
Dirt clung to his once-pristine armor, bruises marred his skin, and his stance—though still commanding—wasn't as assured as before. He had taken damage.
Cedric eyeing him up and down muttered, "Looks like he's alone. What do we do about him?"
Before Noah could answer, a strained voice cut through the air.
"State your... purpose."
Adam. Even through the pain, sweat pouring off him like a waterfall, he forced himself to speak.
Kairos barely reacted. His arm was raised slightly, fingers curled just enough to suggest that he was prepared to fight for what was his… the relic behind them.
Noah tensed.
"Answer him," he ordered, watching Kairos carefully.
Kairos' eyes flicked toward him. His voice… despite the state he was in, carried an air of arrogance.
"You're the one that took what was mine. Give it back, and I shall forgive your impudence."
The moment he spoke, Cedric scoffed. "That accent of yours… a Gildreich bastard, huh? Didn't your daddy teach you not to be naughty on trial floors?"
That did it.
Kairos' entire demeanor shifted in an instant. "I dare you to say that again." His voice was low, dangerous.
Noah, however, wasn't looking at his anger… he was analyzing everything else.
If he wanted to kill us, he would've ambushed us. Instead, he stood there, making a scene.
Which meant he wasn't here to fight.
Noah exhaled through his nose, rubbing his temple. "Alright."
"Cedric, let me handle this."
Then, stepping forward, he met Kairos' piercing gaze and spoke.
Noah narrowed his eyes, suspicion coiling in his mind like a tightening noose.
"Identity."
A simple demand, but beneath the surface…
White hair is fairly common in this world, unlike my previous one. But violet eyes? That skill he demonstrated? And with the timing of his appearance…
A hunch formed. One he didn't like.
The man scoffed, his lips curling into something between amusement and disdain. "Hah. That explains your behavior. You don't even know who you're talking to."
Noah remained silent, waiting.
"Kairos."
That name.
I've heard it before.
Kairos smirked, as if enjoying Noah's delayed realization. "Kairos von Largent."
The moment Cedric and Elara registered the name, they went pale.
A beat passed.
Then, sweat. Nervous, uncontrollable. Beads forming on their brows as their shoulders tensed.
Noah exhaled slowly, gaze never leaving the man before him.
Shit.
An important side character—an ally to Adam in the future—this is way too early for them to meet.
By the time their paths were meant to cross, Kairos von Largent would have already shed his last name, rejected it, but here he stood, a reminder of his old arrogant annoying personnality.
One of the eight great noble families that rule the 56th floor. The 7th neutral floor.
He'd never expected to meet him this early.
Adam and Kairos would destroy Largent and the other families in the chaos…
he knew it. It was all in the future.
And yet, here was Kairos von Largent, still clinging to the last name he despised. Damn, I know too much.
Ignorance is a blessing. And yet, Noah wasn't about to let his knowledge turn into his downfall. He blinked once, twice, then sighed.
Nah, I'd kiss ass.
A half-sarcastic, half-panic-driven thought washed over him as he composed himself, slipping back into the role he had been forced to play.
He straightened up, the words sliding smoothly from his lips, his tone as respectful as it was careful.
"Ohhh, forgive our impudence, Lord Kairos. We were simply ignorant of your identity. But would you kindly understand the situation we are in?"
He took a slow, deliberate breath, meeting the noble's gaze.
"We cannot give you the relic," Noah continued, his voice steady now, even with the weight of the implications. "And a noble such as you knows—understands—that we are in dire need to win."
Noah's words hung in the air, an offer mixed with a plea, yet carefully measured to hold enough weight to make Kairos reconsider. The last thing they needed was to start a fight they weren't prepared for.
Noah's voice cut through the silence, just before Kairos could even open his mouth to respond.
"But I noticed that you are alone, sir," Noah said as though he had just realized something important.
"And as you already noticed, we lack a member—one who died at the hands of an evil team that ambushed us." He paused for a moment, allowing the words to sink in.
"So, what I would like to suggest is for you to join us—or more like, for us to join you."
Kairos, for a split second, was left dumbfounded. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something but couldn't. Surprise flickered across his face—he hadn't expected Noah to be so straightforward. Join them? It was almost too simple, too… convenient.
The truth of it stung Kairos, and he fought to suppress the surprise that lingered behind his eyes.
His pride had kept him from even considering asking for help. Yet, here was Noah, cutting straight to the point, offering exactly what Kairos had been too haughty to vocalize.
He wanted allies.
His team... obliterated by a monster of a climber.
Kairos's mind flashed back to the brutal fight he had witnessed earlier… the same climber who had wiped out his teammates, leaving him alone. He'd managed to escape, but only by the skin of his teeth.
Kairos's fists clenched. He would never admit it aloud, but the truth was undeniable: He had no team left, no strength to win this trial on his own.
He would have to swallow his pride. And perhaps, just perhaps, there was more to gain from an alliance than from standing alone.
For a long moment, he stared at Noah, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife. Finally, he spoke, his voice still laced with that noble edge but tinged with a quiet defeat.
"You speak boldly for someone in your position," Kairos said, his tone guarded, though there was a flicker of respect in his eyes. "But... it seems you're right."
"I'll join you. But understand this… this is temporary."
…
Noah focused on the bandage he was tying around Adam's leg, his fingers trembling slightly as he worked.
The injury was deep—too deep—and Noah could see the white meat of the bone through the torn skin. The sight made his stomach churn, but he kept steady, knowing Adam couldn't afford to lose any more blood.
Across the campfire, Cedric worked tirelessly, roasting the ape's liver with a practiced hand.
Elara, her eyes half-lidded, leaned against the relic, her exhaustion from the trial weighing heavily on her.
Kairos, sitting opposite them, didn't move. His eyes darted between them all calculating. The trust was nonexistent. Noah could feel it. It gnawed at the edges of the fragile peace they'd struck.
Time passed slowly, the smell of the roasting meat rising into the night air.
Eventually, the meal was ready.
Cedric took the time to carve a bowl from wood, its surface rough and uneven, but functional. He kneeled, offering it to Kairos without hesitation.
The nobleman stared at the bowl for a moment, surprise flashing in his purple eyes, before he accepted it. His pride was still there, but it was subdued—no more than a flicker in the shadow of what had happened earlier.
Noah glanced over at Adam, who was still wincing from the pain, sweat dripping from his face.
As he closed the bandage, he couldn't help but think back to his past run. He'd died once, and now, once again, Adam was on the edge of death.
There was so much he didn't understand. He had read Adam's story in the book—the one where he was already deep into the Pillars, at floor 48, Caelumgard.
Adam was already a young man, with allies scattered throughout the higher floors.
And yet, here Adam was, still a teenager, struggling to survive. His life was a puzzle, one Noah couldn't even begin to understand.
What had happened for it to be like that? He thought of how Adam had gone from being a victim of the Pillars to becoming one of the most dangerous climbers in the story.
And Noah... Noah couldn't help but wonder—was he the one to blame for Adam's suffering, for his failure to survive?
Noah shook his head. It's too soon to think like that, he told himself, but the thoughts didn't stop.
They swirled around in his mind, refusing to leave. As he tied the final knot, he looked at Adam, the confusion in his heart deepening.
Adam's past loomed over them both, but for now, Noah's only focus was on keeping him alive. Everything else could wait.
...
As dawn broke, its soft light spilling over the horizon, the team stood near the relic, exhausted but relieved.
The quiet of the moment was broken by the faint hum of energy emanating from the relic itself. Slowly the relic began to glow—at first a dim pulse, then brighter and brighter until it was almost blinding.
Noah shielded his eyes, and for a moment, the world felt like it was bending, warping, slipping from beneath him. Then, the light exploded in a final burst.
When the brilliance faded, they were no longer standing where they had been. They blinked, disoriented, as the world snapped back into focus.
They were at the starting point.
The trial was over.
All around them, the other teams stood.
Some, who had failed, were already slumped in exhaustion, their bodies heavy with the lethargy that came with failure, as they were transported to the neutral floors.
As for the dead—
May their souls find their way out of this hell.
Their bodies would serve as fertilizers, as this floor claimed them.
.
.
.
[Vitality Increased.]