Mors lay on the damp soil, watching fireflies drift lazily through the night air.
It was still dark, but judging by how long he had slept, he guessed a new day had probably begun.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have woken up at all.
'If I want to survive in this world, I'll need power. But how am I supposed to cultivate a body with a useless condition like mine?'
Mors racked his brain, trying to find even one convincing reason to stay alive.
'It's not like I can magically get—' Realization struck, and his eyes widened.
Mors suddenly yanked himself upright. "Since this is a magical world… shouldn't there be a remedy for my condition?"
He paused, then added hopefully, "An Elixir of Life or something like that."
The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea.
"Alright, Mors. Let's think positively," he muttered. "First, I need power. Enough to at least not die immediately. And to gain power…"
His lips curled upward.
"I need to Awaken."
Mors looked out at the forest and smiled.
'Thankfully, Little Mors died trying to do just that.'
In this world, when a person reached the age of 16, a rare few would manifest a sigil shaped like a key.
Mors turned his left hand and looked at the upper part of his palm.
A black key-shaped sigil was etched there.
The Origin Sigil.
Those who possessed a Sigil were able to enter the Towers of Ascension, colossal structures scattered across the world, their towering forms blotting out the sky.
The Realik Continent alone had more than eight towers, and most major cities and civilizations were built around them.
No one knew who had created the towers, or how they truly worked.
The Holy Kingdom, however, claimed they were a blessing granted by their goddess, Nüwa.
'Yeah. Right.' Mors scoffed inwardly.
From the memories he had inherited, Little Mors had been exiled at the age of 16 after a series of unfortunate events involving his fiancée and the Solaris Family.
That exile had led him to a single decision.
He would Awaken.
And to do that, he headed toward a Tower located in a free city-state named Qunad.
Currently, Mors was inside Floor 0 of that Tower, which stood in Qunad's capital city.
Floor 0 was also known as the Floor of Awakening.
It presented three individual trials to those who entered the Tower.
If a Challenger completed all three trials, they would awaken their Class and Mana Core.
If they failed…
They would die inside the Tower and become nothing more than fertilizer for it.
"Hoo… let's hope the trial is still ongoing," Mors muttered, steadying his breathing as he focused on the trial's details.
Soon enough, a black runic panel materialized in front of him, its surface etched with glowing silver letters.
This was how the Tower communicated with its Challengers.
Mors grinned and began to read.
— ◈ —
[ Tower of Ascension ]
[ Floor 0 – Awakening Trial ]
Objective : Complete all three Trials.
Progress : 0 / 3
Active Quest : Trial of Endurance ( 1st Trial )
Condition : Survive within the forest for seven days.
Time Elapsed : 5 days, 00 : 55 : 45.
— ◈ —
"Damn… Little Mors really died in the very first trial."
Mors felt a flicker of pity for the kid.
Well, it couldn't be helped.
Floor 0 didn't allow Challengers to bring anything with them. It didn't even give proper equipment, only a training outfit that was basically just plain cloth.
Of course, once he completed this floor and left the Tower, the outfit would disappear, and everything he had carried before entering would be returned to him.
Since the trials were individualized, Little Mors had no way to prepare properly.
He had trained with a blade back home, sure. But this forest had no beasts, no animals, and no weapons.
For three days, Little Mors had starved.
On the fourth, he finally found a stream. Water quenched the thirst, but hunger was a different beast. Desperate, he eventually stumbled upon a bush bearing small, cherry-like fruits.
Sadly, Little Mors was the type who preferred action over botany.
And that preference cost him his life.
The fruits were poisonous. Slow-acting, at that.
Unaware of the danger, the boy ate five of them before collapsing, dying alone and helpless in the forest.
Mors clicked his tongue.
"Then shouldn't I be dead too?" he muttered. "That poison should still be in this body, right?"
The thought lingered.
But when he woke from his forced sleep, there was no pain. No burning in his gut. No sign of poisoning at all.
If anything, he felt… refreshed and reinvigorated.
"…Something is seriously wrong with me," Mors said quietly, then grinned. "And for once, I'm thankful for it."
With that, he pushed himself to his feet and looked around.
Thankfully, the moonlight was bright enough that he could see.
The entire forest and everything in it was probably just an illusion created for the trial. Nobody truly knew how it all worked. Those who entered Floor 0 were rarely strong enough to tell what was real and what was fake.
Anyway, first things first. He needed food and water.
Mors decided to retrace the path toward the stream from his memories. From his experience, he could probably survive the trial with just water, and after his forced sleep, he might feel even more refreshed.
♢ ♢ ♢ ♢
Mors soon reached the small stream and crouched beside it.
Cupping the water in his hands, he drank greedily, water spilling down his chin.
"Pwaah… I'm alive." He splashed some on his face to wake himself further.
He would have loved a proper bath, but drinking water from a stream he'd just bathed in seemed… questionable.
'Nah… a week without a bath isn't that bad,' he thought, nodding to himself.
Grlll.
His stomach growled its endless protest. Mors rubbed it absentmindedly, trying to calm the noise.
He scanned the forest, and finally, his eyes landed on the top of a tree.
'Hmm… is that…?' His gaze sharpened, a spark of hope lighting up his face.
Mors climbed the tree carefully, finally reaching a decent height. Luckily, the new memories gave him muscle memory, making him surprisingly acrobatic.
At the top, among the branches and hidden by leaves, were edible, acorn nuts. If Little Mors had found these before the cherry-like fruit, he might still be alive.
'Guess fate really can't be changed,' Mors thought. 'In the novel, it only briefly mentioned Stella de Lunaris's exiled brother dying in the tower. Now, in the fifth cycle, it's my turn to take over.'
Shaking off the thought, he focused on the more pressing matter — Eating.
That's when he noticed a subtle ripple along a branch behind him. A green snake slithered into view, scales glinting in the moonlight. Its unblinking, sharp eyes locked on him as it inched closer, tongue flicking.
Mors froze, the acorns in his hand suddenly forgotten. His heart thumped loudly in his chest. One wrong move, one slip… and he'd be dinner.
He balanced carefully on the branch, eyes fixed on the snake. The serpent paused, sensing his caution. For a brief moment, they faced each other like rivals on the brink of battle.