Parallel Memory

This was a new battlefield, and I couldn't wait to become stronger.

The moment I stepped onto Floor 29, the air itself felt different—sharper, heavier. The landscape stretched wide under a fractured sky, towering canyons cut through the terrain like ancient scars, and narrow ridges twisted into natural bridges above shadow-filled abysses. Wind howled like an ever-present warning, carrying with it the scent of cold stone and distant blood.

Above, massive birds circled high in the sky. Their shadows swept across the land in silence, gliding with predatory elegance. It wasn't just birds—they were monstrous vultures, each the size of a horse, their talons long enough to tear through steel. They wheeled in formation, dark shapes riding the air currents in eerie synchronization. It wasn't just flight—it was a wake. A hunting party. They scanned the floor below like a flock of executioners waiting to pick off anything too slow or too foolish to hide.

I turned to Lilith, her blank eyes unmoving as always, and gave her a single command.

"Follow me and protect yourself in case of danger."

We started moving, searching for a place we could rest, a location less hostile—or at least one not directly under the gaze of aerial predators. I led the way through the thick forest that bordered the canyon ridges, hoping to evade the vultures by using the tree canopy as natural cover.

I could have easily asked Lilith to fly up and eliminate the flying monsters. Her strength was more than sufficient, and aerial combat was one of her specialties. She had no trouble taking on such creatures in open skies. But something held me back. The way she moved now—silent, expressionless, lifeless—made me hesitate. I didn't want to see her hurt. Not again. Not while she was like this.

So I chose the cautious path.

And I was wrong.

My logic, built on preserving her safety, was utterly shattered the moment we stepped deeper into the forest. Because the forest, far from being a safe route, turned out to be far worse than the skies above.

The pressure of mana in the area was overwhelming. It clung to the air like a storm waiting to burst. Every breath felt heavier, every movement more draining. And the monsters… they weren't just strong. They were organized. Territorial. Relentless.

The first one we saw was a giant mammoth, easily three times my height, its white fur matted with dried blood. Its tusks weren't ivory—they were crystal. Sharp diamond-like formations that could cleave through mountains. Behind it, more beasts emerged from the trees: sabertooths with eyes like molten gold, war hogs with iron hide, and dire wolves whose growls echoed like thunder.

Each one, by mana aura alone, was Rank A or higher. Some of the larger ones exuded an aura that nearly paralyzed the air around them—they were at least S-rank and seemed to be their leader.

And they didn't move alone.

These weren't solitary predators. They roamed in groups. Packs. Tribes. Entire ecosystems of apex predators that coordinated in silence. No infighting, no distractions. Just one goal: eliminate the intruders. S%ou$rc&ed di$r-ect!ly f@r-om MV$L-E!M&PYR&.

That intruder was me.

And I wasn't just fighting for myself.

Though Lilith was powerful, and could likely tear through dozens of them with ease, the risk was still too great. On this floor of the Tower of Obelisk, anything could happen. Ambushes weren't just common—they were expected. And if even one mistake slipped through… I wasn't willing to take that gamble with her.

So I told her the same thing I always did.

"Protect yourself. I'll handle the rest."

She nodded silently and stepped back.

From that moment, my battle became a survival game. I couldn't afford to waste time or energy. Every monster I encountered, I had to fight head-on. The forest left me no choice. There was no clear path, no safe passage. The moment I crossed an invisible boundary, a new group would appear, charging with bone-shaking roars and thunderous footsteps.

I didn't have the luxury of rest. I couldn't afford to retreat.

Sometimes I fought them one at a time. Other times, three or four came at once, and I was forced to rely on terrain manipulation and clever traps. Shadow spikes hidden beneath fallen leaves. Ice traps that froze the Earth mid-charge.

But I adapted. I always did.

At some point, the battle stopped being just about clearing the floor. My rations were low, and the thought struck me mid-fight—these beasts, though dangerous, were still made of flesh and blood. Some of them could be used as food. I began harvesting what I could. A saber-tooth here, a war hog there. Not all of it was edible, but I had learned how to prepare monster meat through magic.

So what began as a brutal crawl through enemy territory turned into something of a twisted hunt for sustenance. After each victorious encounter, I'd skin what I could, storing it in a storage ring while warding off the scent with concealment spells. It wasn't pretty. But survival never was.

Still, it was exhausting.

The groups came without pause. The monsters were territorial to a fault. Any step in the wrong direction triggered a charge. The forest was a maze of warzones, and each inch I moved felt like conquering new ground in a siege.

The constant pressure from the environment—the unnatural mana density, the oppressive silence broken only by monstrous howls and crunching leaves—ate away at my concentration. But I never let it break me.

Because this was the Tower this was what it demanded.

I'd been climbing for nearly a year now. I'd grown stronger with every floor, honed my mind alongside my body. The pain, the fatigue, the isolation—it was no longer something to fear. It had become a part of me.

Because behind that suffering, there was purpose.

Floor 29 was shaping up to be one of the hardest trials yet. The monsters didn't relent. The mana drained even my most basic techniques twice as fast. And with Lilith reduced to a shadow of her former self, I carried her burden alongside my own.