11. World Tower is nigh

Seiito's heart raced with every step, his nerves gnawing at him as he walked through the bustling streets of Santizimo, trailing behind his classmates.

The ancient city buzzed with life, the air thick with the scent of food vendors and the sounds of merchants peddling their wares.

But despite the lively atmosphere, an uneasy tension loomed over their group.

At the front of the line, Reivain led them, his tall, shadowy figure cutting through the crowd effortlessly. His words from earlier still echoed in Seiito's mind.

"It seems... it's time."

Seiito had raised an eyebrow at the cryptic announcement, his classmates exchanging confused glances, curious yet uncertain.

They had been in this new world for weeks now, almost a month, and their progress had been far from impressive. In fact, they were floundering. No one was living up to the title of "Heroes" they had been given upon arrival. And Seiito—Seiito was the worst among them.

The King himself had ordered Reivain to escort them to the World Tower, a massive, ominous structure nestled in the heart of Santizimo. There, they would supposedly test their strength and grow more powerful. But what exactly the World Tower held in store, no one knew. No one but Seiito.

He had read about it in an old, dusty tome during his downtime in the royal library. The knowledge of the tower filled him with a deep sense of dread. The Tower wasn't just a place for trials—it was a gauntlet of unimaginable danger, a place where failure meant death.

And for some reason, Seiito, the weakest among them, would have to face it too.

The King's decree had left no room for argument. Even though Seiito's healing abilities were abysmal, he was still the only healer in their group. And with the constant threat of the human-demon war, healers were crucial.

Without him, they had no one to rely on for recovery, and that fact weighed heavily on Seiito's shoulders. Every step toward the tower felt like walking toward his own execution.

"Ugh... we actually have to rely on Seiito now?" Kosei muttered with disdain, his voice cutting through the noise of the busy street.

"Seriously?" Yukiya chimed in, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Seiito's the only one who can heal us? We're doomed."

"Maybe we should stock up on healing potions," Chiharu added, her voice laced with bitter humor. "Just in case."

Seiito clenched his fists, his eyes narrowing as he tried to block out their words, but each comment stung more than the last.

Their lack of faith in him was suffocating, and the weight of their expectations was beginning to crush him.

They don't trust me... he thought, his chest tightening. I don't blame them.

Of course, they had no faith in him. His healing spells were slow, weak, and barely functional.

The others had their skills—they could fight, they could defend themselves. But Seiito?

He was just a liability. A burden. And now they had to rely on him to keep them alive in one of the deadliest places in the kingdom.

Saka, walking a few steps behind Seiito, bristled at the harsh words from the others.

She had always defended him, always believed in him, even when the rest of the group treated him like dead weight. How could they be so cold, so dismissive? Didn't they see how hard Seiito was trying?

Takemi, usually calm and composed, was also bothered by the way their classmates spoke of Seiito. But even he couldn't ignore the reality. Seiito's healing magic was severely lacking. It was a known fact that in battle, Seiito's presence offered little reassurance.

Yet, despite his own frustration, Takemi couldn't bring himself to say anything. Seiito's struggles were evident, but so were his efforts. No matter how much he faltered, Seiito didn't give up. And in the back of Takemi's mind, a small part of him respected that.

But respect wouldn't be enough inside the World Tower. In there, survival was the only measure of worth.

As they neared the massive, towering structure, its shadow looming over them like a specter of death, Seiito's heart sank further.

The World Tower stood tall and foreboding, an ancient monolith that had claimed the lives of countless adventurers. His hands trembled at the thought of what awaited them inside.

I have to do this, Seiito told himself, swallowing his fear. I have to prove I'm not useless.

But even as the words echoed in his mind, doubt lingered.

Could he really prove himself?

Or would this be the day he failed them all?

"Do not fret, dear Heroes, I will be accompanying you all, I will stay and fight by your sides." Reivain could sense the unease, and distrust in Seiito, and he sensed that something would happen again, Reivain knew how notorious Valorian was, for discarding useless people, and Seiito was definitely in danger.

It always happened every time, the worst hero would be killed off, or thrown away into the pits of hell.

He decided to stay with all of them and to protect Seiito, he would not let Valorian do such a thing again.

"Reivain-san...what's a World Tower?"

"The World Tower," Reivain began, his voice low but commanding, "is not just a simple test of strength. It is a crucible—an ancient relic built long before any of your kingdoms existed. It stands as a testament to the will of those who seek power, and a grave for those too weak to claim it."

Seiito swallowed hard, his heart thudding in his chest. He had read about the tower, but hearing it described so plainly made it feel all the more real. All the more terrifying.

Reivain continued, his gaze sweeping over the group. "Each floor of the Tower is a challenge in its own right. The monsters inside are far more powerful than anything you've faced so far. They grow stronger the higher you ascend, and each floor demands more from you—both in strength and in strategy. It will test your abilities, your resolve, and your ability to work together."

Takemi's sharp gaze remained fixed on the Tower, his lips set in a grim line. "And what if we fail?"

Reivain's eyes locked onto him, unwavering. "If you fail, you die. There is no mercy within the Tower. No second chances. Once you enter, there is no escape until you complete the floor or meet your end."

A cold shiver ran down Seiito's spine. He could feel the weight of Reivain's words pressing down on him, suffocating.

"Then why send us?" Yukiya asked, his voice laced with frustration. "We're not ready. You know we're not!"

Reivain's gaze softened for just a moment, but his tone remained firm. "No one is ever truly ready. That is the nature of the World Tower. It forces you to face your limits and break them—or be broken by them."

Seiito's hands clenched into fists at his sides. He could feel his classmates' eyes on him, and could hear the whispers of doubt in their voices.

They're right, he thought bitterly. I'm not ready. I'll only drag them down.

Reivain continued, oblivious to the turmoil within Seiito. "The Tower is not only a place to gain strength—it is a key to unraveling the secrets of this world. Each floor contains relics, knowledge, and power that can turn the tide of the war between humans and demons. For those of you who survive, you will emerge stronger—more capable than you can even imagine now."

"And if none of us survive?" Kōji muttered darkly, his eyes narrowed.

Reivain's smile was cold, his eyes glittering with something unreadable. "Then you were never worthy of the title 'Heroes' to begin with."

The words hung heavy in the air, leaving no room for argument. The weight of the task before them became painfully clear.
Seiito felt his breath hitch as Reivain turned back to the Tower, his voice quieter now, almost reverent.

"The World Tower chooses who lives and who dies. It does not care for your titles, your past, or your status. Inside, only one truth remains: the strong will rise. The weak… will fall." He turned to them once more, his gaze hardening as if daring them to show fear.
"So tell me, Heroes," Reivain said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Will you rise? Or will you fall?"

The tension hung in the air like a thick fog. Despite the nervous energy that crackled around them, most of Seiito's classmates were beginning to steel themselves, faces hardening with determination. Some still had doubts flickering in their eyes, shadows of fear they couldn't fully erase, but none of them intended to die without a fight.

Except Seiito.

He stood apart from the group, shoulders tense and breath shallow. His heart hammered in his chest, not with resolve, but with dread. Unlike the others, who clung to some hope of survival, Seiito felt the crushing weight of reality sinking in.

He wasn't like them. He wasn't strong, or brave, or capable. His magic was weak, his skill in combat nonexistent. He had barely managed to heal his comrades in past skirmishes, let alone face the horrors that awaited inside the World Tower.

I'm not going to make it, he thought grimly, the realization gnawing at him. I'm going to die in there.

Lost in his spiraling thoughts, Seiito didn't notice the figure approaching him until he felt a gentle tug on his sleeve. Startled, he glanced to his side to find Saka standing there, her bright eyes full of concern. She had noticed the fear etched across his face, the way his hands trembled despite his efforts to hide it.

Without a word, Saka moved closer, her slender fingers resting lightly on his shoulder. Her touch was warm, calming, and her smile—gentle but firm—spoke volumes. It wasn't one of pity, but one of reassurance, a silent promise that she was by his side.

"Seiito," she said softly, just loud enough for him to hear. "You're not alone. We're in this together."

Seiito's throat tightened, a lump of emotion he couldn't quite swallow. For a moment, he couldn't find the words to respond, but Saka's unwavering gaze eased the tension that had gripped him. He had saved her once, had risked everything for her without a second thought, and now it was her turn.

This time, she would protect him.

Her hand remained on his shoulder, a steady presence in the storm of his anxiety. "I believe in you," she whispered, her smile deepening, a quiet strength behind it.

Seiito felt his chest loosen, just a little. It wasn't much, but it was enough for now.

"Thank you, Saka," he murmured, his voice low but sincere.

They stood there for a moment longer, the chaos of the world around them fading as they shared that quiet connection.

In that instant, Seiito realized something. Even if he was scared, even if his chances of surviving felt slim, he wasn't completely hopeless.

With Saka by his side, maybe—just maybe—he could find the strength to face whatever awaited them in the Tower.

Kōji stood at a distance, his eyes narrowed as he observed the quiet exchange between Seiito and Saka. The way she placed her hand on his shoulder, offering him comfort, the way Seiito's expression softened in response—it was a moment charged with something he could never hope to understand.

A flicker of emotion stirred deep within him, something dark and twisted. He hated that connection, that unspoken bond between them. His jaw clenched, but then, slowly, a deadly grin curled at the corners of his lips. His eyes gleamed with anticipation, a predator's gleam before the strike. It wasn't just jealousy—it was much more sinister. He had a role to play, and he was ready to see it through.

He wasn't the only one.

From the shadows, Yukiya and Ryūju exchanged glances, their expressions hard and unreadable. They too had been tasked with the same mission, their orders coming directly from the King himself. Kōji felt their presence behind him, like wolves waiting to be unleashed.

They were all in on it—the silent conspiracy that would turn this journey into something far more deadly than the others realized.

Kōji's grin widened as his thoughts darkened. He could almost hear the King's cold, calculating voice in his mind, the weight of the secret mission hanging over them like a guillotine. Eliminate the healer, the King had commanded.

And that was exactly what they planned to do.
As Seiito and Saka shared their moment, Kōji's gaze sharpened.

Let them enjoy their fleeting connection, their naive trust. It wouldn't last. Seiito had no idea that the people standing beside him were already plotting his demise.

Kōji's fingers twitched, itching to set the plan in motion.

It was only a matter of time now. And when the moment came—when Seiito was at his weakest—Kōji would be ready.