From Alessio Leone's Perspective
It would be wrong for Alessio to claim that numbers held no power within the Black Tower.In truth, they were one of the greatest forces a player or guild could command.
From the very beginning, he had learned — in the hardest way possible — that numbers were a weapon.A well-coordinated group could bring down monsters otherwise impossible to face alone, build cities, dominate regions, even manipulate the balance of the system itself.
Yes, numbers had power.But only when wielded by those who knew how to use them.
Even the mass guilds — hundreds or thousands of low-level players — had to understand one simple rule to survive:quantity without coordination was nothing but stacked meat.
And the thirty men before him were living proof of that.
Alessio watched the group calmly — his helmet reflecting the golden glow of the magical barrier surrounding them.The ground still trembled under his feet, scarred by cracks and craters from the previous impact.Bodies scattered, faint groans, the metallic scent of blood and dust in the air.And yet, the remaining Fighting Dogs still didn't seem to understand what was happening.
They still shouted.Still growled.Still tried to intimidate him with cries that sounded more like desperation than courage.
And in that instant, Alessio thought:The Tower really does reflect the real world.
He was only level five.Yes, his Essence was awakened — the Lion's Blood roared in his veins with every heartbeat — and he had four high-quality items:one Epic, one Rare, one Uncommon, and one Common.Combined with his Essence bonuses, that made him something close to a field boss.
But even then, he wasn't invincible.Not in the absolute sense.
He knew that better than anyone.He had seen far stronger players fall in wars across the Tower's higher layers — crushed not by monsters, but by coordination.Mages synchronizing shields and healing spells, archers creating suppression zones, tanks rotating the frontline with perfect rhythm —organization was what turned a mob into an army.
And if those thirty men — all between levels two and three — had displayed even a minimal degree of strategy, if they had divided roles, established attack and defense lines, combined area spells with support potions,the outcome could have been very different.
They could have won.Or at least survived long enough to retreat and try again.
But they hadn't.
They had no discipline.No structure.No plan.Their leader — now unconscious and slumped against a tree, half his armor caved in — had been the first to fall.And without leadership, all that remained was chaos.
What those men had done, essentially, was trap themselves inside their own cage.A barrier that, in theory, was meant to imprison powerful enemies and restrict the battlefield — but instead had turned them into prisoners in an arena with two predators.
Alessio took a slow breath.Golden energy still pulsed around him, each exhale sending faint tremors through the air.His shield remained raised, its edge stained with blood and light, while he observed the field before him with the detached calm of a judge delivering a verdict.
From a tactical standpoint, this wasn't a battle.It was an execution.
And though he understood the power of numbers within the Tower, he also knew when the balance had been utterly destroyed.
They — the thirty criminals, the so-called Fighting Dogs — thought themselves hunters.But the scroll they'd used had done something simple and cruel:it had locked them in a cage with two hungry lions.
The metaphor painted itself clearly in Alessio's mind.He could almost see it — two predators circling a herd of disoriented prey.The tremor of weapons in trembling hands, uncertain stares, hesitation thick in the air — all betraying the most primal instinct of all: fear.
With every step he took, the air grew heavier.The survivors of Aslan's first charge instinctively backed away, some stumbling over the bodies of their fallen comrades.
Alessio lifted his shield slowly, the motion calm, almost ceremonial.The golden reflection swept across its curved surface like sunlight breaking through clouds.
"Thirty against two…" he murmured under his breath, almost to himself. "Seems fair."
And then he stepped forward.
The metallic thud echoed within the barrier — muted, but steady — a prelude to the second wave of the massacre already underway.
The battle — if it could still be called that — unfolded as a slow, methodical slaughter, almost quiet compared to the chaos that had come before.The clash of steel was broken only by the short screams of men being hurled aside, and by the constant thunder of Alessio's shield colliding with flesh and bone.
He moved with firm, deliberate steps, every motion measured and controlled.The Titan's Bulwark was a living wall before him, absorbing blows and returning them with triple the force.Roughly a third of his strikes sent bodies flying several meters before crashing lifeless to the ground.Those who tried to flank him quickly learned there was no angle of attack against a warrior who moved like a fortress.
Alessio wasn't in a hurry.He didn't need to be.He knew none of them could escape — the golden barrier still pulsed around them, closing the space like a coffin lid.And perhaps because of that, he savored the rhythm of the fight — advancing slowly, dismantling the bandits' formation piece by piece.
A clumsy axe swing came from his left — too high.He turned, blocked with the shield, and the resulting shockwave sent the attacker crashing back into two of his allies, knocking all three down.From the right, an archer tried to retreat, arrow trembling on the string — but before he could release it, Alessio was already there.A single sideways blow of the shield struck the man's ribs.The crack of breaking bone echoed in the air.
The stench of blood mixed with the metallic tang of magic saturating the barrier.The ground was littered with bodies — some unconscious, some dead, some crawling helplessly in futile attempts to flee.And still, Alessio didn't stop.Each step brought him closer to his true target: the scroll bearer — the one still maintaining the barrier's power.
The man was backing away, terrified, hands trembling over the floating parchment sustained by a shimmer of gray and gold.The runes flickered, unstable, mirroring the panic of their caster.Alessio knew that one well-placed hit — one solid impact — would be enough to break his focus and shatter the barrier.
But even as he advanced, part of his attention stayed elsewhere — automatically tracking movement to his right.
Sith.
She was a bit farther off, but still within sight — a blur darting among enemies like a living shadow.With every flash of the barrier, he caught glimpses of her blade slicing through the air.Precise.Swift.Deadly.
A man tried to strike her from behind, but before his sword could fall, Sith had already turned — cutting his throat with the effortless grace of a breath.Another tried to flee — she chased him in two steps, swept his legs, and finished him in one motion.
Even from where he stood, Alessio could feel the predatory instinct radiating from her.The smooth rhythm of her movements, her breathing, the feline precision.She didn't fight like a warrior.She hunted.
And that made him smile beneath the helmet.While he tore through the frontlines, Sith cleared the flanks — as if they'd trained for this kind of synchronized slaughter.Every one of his advances opened a gap; every gap, she filled.Death moved in two directions within the barrier.
The clash of blades grew rarer.The screams faded.The scent of blood thickened.And when Alessio finally stopped before the scroll bearer, most of the Fighting Dogs were already down.
The caster, panting, tried to form a barrier of his own — but the look behind Alessio's golden helmet froze him where he stood.Alessio raised his shield, the barrier's light glinting off its edge, illuminating the man's pale face.
"You should've saved that scroll for something important," he murmured, his voice calm behind the steel.
Then the shield came down.
The impact made the barrier itself tremble.The runes flared one last time… and then began to dissolve.