Strongest Among the Heavens
Chapter 505: Back to the Dark Tower

Chapter 505: Back to the Dark Tower

The immediate area into the entrance: loud and agitating with merchants and receptionists and warriors. Too much went on here.

’If it was up to me, I would expand the Dark Tower. Everything outside is unnecessary. Everything here is too crowded. Section off the merchants and stores instead of shoving them all together.’

His Qi Sense picked up every detail of the beginnings of the Dark Tower. Luckily, it was not as chaotic as when the doors opened at ten o’clock. The huge archway where spectators ran to like flies and the line-ups, they were lesser than last time. Although like last time, he was expected to give a name to the receptionist, an entry fee, and was asked which floor he wished to go to.

To reach floor fifty required experience. To prove themselves. There was a reason names were recorded.

Thud.

The receptionist’s lips parted. "Ah."

Experience and presitige mattered...or coin. Dasha had no issues paying the full one hundred gold entry fee. He understood what this place meant and how it conducted itself. The Dark Tower weeded out the weak for the strong, who would then come to be attractions that spectators would continuously pay for. Coin ran this Dark Tower the same way it did the rest of the Underground.

"Name?"

"The Solution."

The White Venetian Mask for the Professor. The Black Opera Mask for Myth. Now, he wore a dark red Tangu mask for the Solution. He did not wear a cloak. Járngreipr were equipped, the Seven-league boots were tucked in, a tiny piece of Jack the Ripper’s mask lay hidden and attached to the bottom of his face, and the Ruh al-Qital gi, burgundy and sleeveless, was ready for battle. The white cloak of Tarnkappe was bunched up on the left shoulder and hung over his arm like a semi-cape.

This was the Solution. Not Dasha, not the Professor, not Myth, but the Solution.

"Floor?"

"Fifty-two."

"Floor fifty-two? Are you certain?" The receptionist asked in a dull tone. They were a Japanese oni, blue in skin tone with six clawed fingers and a single horn on their head.

"Yes."

"Suit yourself. An attendant will take you straight to battle."

The attendant came in the form of a young child. Battered and baggy-eyed, the boy walked him up the long fifty-floor fleet of stairs.

’Floors 50-89 have one arena with multiple matches and private rooms,’ Dasha thought to himself as he walked slowly and breathed slowly via Tu Na Breathing.

Soon, he would come here to battle the three goddesses. There was no other place to host a battle of such magnitude.

"When did you begin working here?" Dasha asked the little attendant.

"All my life."

’So he was born into the work of the Dark Tower. To ensure loyalty. I would do the same.’

A thousand Sorcerers were said to maintain the Dark Tower. For those Sorcerers to have children made sense.

Shockingly, Dasha had not been able to garner the nitty-gritty of the Dark Tower’s operations. He had not yet asked the Whispers. He suspected they might know given their history.

Oh well. Later.

Dasha’s spy network was good enough for his immediate needs. Discovering that Igor was on floor fifty-two took no time to discover. He was a Russian, a swordsman, an archer, and a man with a love of history. He did not possess fame but he was renowned locally. A couple of whispers from the children who lived around the Dark Tower told him all that he needed.

"You paid for your entry, so you will not be given a private room. You will be led directly into the next battle," the boy stated.

"Are there many like me?"

"Yes."

"Do many die?"

"Yes."

An excellent side-profit for the Dark Tower. A fool pays a hundred gold coins and gets slaughtered by a true warrior.

"Who is my opponent?"

"Currently, a swordsman by the name of Igor is battling the Arju Archer. They are both quite experienced."

The stairs ended and flattened into stone that was stronger and darker. Completely black and clean, at the end of it was a large black door with a large black lock.

’Reminds me of Old Rocco’s lock except twice as big. Wouldn’t be surprised if he based it off of this.’

Having a lock that could choke on a corpse, Dasha wasn’t sure what kind of key was going to open it.

"O Dark Tower, O Darkness, I pray for you to give me a chance. We pray, we mount, we battle, and we do it all for the Dark Tower."

The boy spoke in a language that Dasha should have never have understood but did because of Martanda’s Boon. "I shall bestow upon him a fragment of my energy, enabling him to engage with the sacred texts. I shall also endow him with the sacred texts, thereby nurturing his ability to speak with eloquence."

The boy chanted and prayed, hands together, and chains manifested. They pulled away from the door and the black door opened.

Dasha Pang and the boy walked forward.

Floor fifty, at long last.

The gap in quality was apparent in the stone. His steps were cleaner and louder. The stone was of cobblestone, the same as before, but without the grime or blood and with stronger heaps of magic. Dasha Pang could immediately say this:

’I can’t break this stone with my own fists. It’s the same as before and yet has been amplified with magic to an absurd degree.’

Floor fifty was where the Blood Kicker trained. Where she was sent by Alcibiades in order to fulfill her potential. He wondered which floor she was on.

"This is the hub," said the boy. "Straight ahead is the arena. To the left and right are the corridors to your rooms."

The material did not change anywhere. Cobblestone rooms, then? Not very comfortable. A total of seven warriors were standing in the hub, arms crossed and weary of Dasha. Likely, they were waiting their turn. From here, they could scarcely make out the screams and roars of battle. With Qi Sense, things were different. All was within sight.

"Igor has won," Dasha stated. "And not worse for wear either."

"I’m going next." Grunted a weaponless woman, pushing herself. "That old bastard has to pay for sparing me. Don’t get in my way."

’Should I observe what Igor can do first? Or should I kill this woman and take her place?’

He suddenly felt a twitch of mana underneath his feet. He glanced down and observed a distinct heat via his Qi Sense. A magic circle, more specifically.

’Hmph, it sensed my intentions to kill her. Fine. I’ll observe.’

Dasha sat down, leaning on the wall. His Qi Sense flared up, visualizing everything as though he were there flying with a camera, he observed.