After sparring with my duplicate, I devoted myself entirely to training for a long stretch of time, centering every moment on real combat and the adjustments that followed.

Whatever was happening beyond this place remained unknown, but it felt unmistakably serious, as if some unspoken pressure urged me onward. I couldn’t afford any distractions, nor could I spare a moment for rest.

Of course, battling past opponents had become far easier thanks to my increased strength, so I rarely felt like taking a break. I simply focused on familiarizing myself with my new capabilities, sharpened senses, and expanded mental capacity that had accompanied my transformation.

Out of all the opponents I could summon, I most often fought my alternate self from the ninety-ninth floor. The opponent I fought next most commonly was the Kalain from the phantom of the predecessor trial.

My performance exceeded my expectations.

I am far more powerful than I would have ever imagined.

With the enhancements to my mind, my senses had shifted in kind, and even my ability to grasp the overall flow of a situation had accelerated drastically. That allowed me to find a better balance between thought and no-self, a middle ground I had previously struggled to reach. All in all, these improvements produced a synergy incomparable to any of my previous evolutions.

Thunderbird was one key example.

Even if I used it imprecisely, my ridiculously powerful physique could endure the recoil without issue. The technique had evolved into something reminiscent of Flash Strike, honed and controlled—my rate of improvement bordered on absurd.

To be honest, I felt faintly hollow.

In a single moment, I had improved more than two decades’ worth of grueling and devoted training. Still, it was my reward for ascending the tower as a challenger, and I wasn’t dissatisfied with it.

Maybe I feel this way because of how much effort and time I spent trying to improve.

The subtle awkwardness continued to linger.

On the other hand, adapting to this newfound strength wouldn’t be a short process. The level I had reached would normally require hundreds—or even thousands—of years of dedicated training and meditation. Bridging that gap instantly was impossible. Although... that partly stemmed from my own uncompromising standards. I would never be satisfied wielding my strength crudely or carelessly. True adaptation meant utilizing my capabilities precisely, in low-stress or important moments.

It is taking longer than I thought it would.

If I could summon opponents closer in strength to me, it wouldn’t take as long, but that wasn’t an option. However, once I had reached a certain threshold of adaptation, I had stopped fighting others and focused on training alone. Cho-Yeon had urged me to focus on adjusting first, but I still wondered what was happening outside the tower. Time there remained frozen, so all I could do was pour myself into improvement.

It was during this period of training that I upgraded Thunderbird.

In the past, the technique merged my various energies and accelerated them through my internal circuits. However, causality made up the overwhelming majority of my energies now, and it impacted the merger. Because causality took precedence, the backlash no longer struck me with the same ferocity, although it hadn’t disappeared completely.

At least I no longer faint instantly or damage myself permanently the way I once did.

Even after that breakthrough, I didn’t stop training. I didn’t track the days, but months had to have passed.

To be honest, I was sick and tired to the bone, although despite that, I kept pushing and seeking any improvement, no matter how small. On the bright side, the mental instability I had feared never surfaced. Perhaps the unknown threat looming directly ahead made things emotionally draining, but within tolerable limits.

Receiving the inheritance probably boosted my mental fortitude as well.

Still, that didn’t mean I wasn’t angry. Things hadn’t gone as I had hoped, so a faint, lingering frustration existed within me. I had assumed that after completing the hundredth floor, I would be granted a brief respite. Even if another battle awaited me, shouldn’t the climbers at least have a moment to gather, laugh, and unwind together?

Lastly, I hadn’t seen Ha Hee-Jeong for a while.

I had heard a saying that distance cools the heart, yet despite spending so much time alone, my feelings never changed. If anything, that consistency had only made the present circumstances more aggravating. Regardless, I didn’t let the irritation consume me and instead used it as fuel and channeled it back into my training.

Out of the blue, the Tower of Ordeal initiated a conversation one day. We had exchanged a few words now and then, but those were little more than polite greetings.

However, the atmosphere felt different today.

“You may leave now.”

Startled by the sudden announcement, I reflexively grunted, “Huh?”

Cho-Yeon maintained the same serene expression as always.

“Did the issue outside get resolved?” I questioned instinctively, but remembering that time outside was frozen, I immediately corrected myself, “No, that can’t be it. Am I sufficiently strong?

Of course, Cho-Yeon didn’t answer, but since she had brought the subject up first, I didn’t intend to refuse. If she said it was fine, then it was fine. After all that training, I missed everyone.

“All right. Then let me out.”

“Before that, there is something you have to decide on.”

“What are my choices?”

“They concern the climbers within the tower and the people of Earth.”

It took me a moment to grasp what she meant. I had believed that after the hundredth floor, the climbers would return to Earth alive, and I would become Earth’s god. After some thought, her meaning became clearer. Perhaps she was asking because I could choose not to save certain climbers.

“You may choose among the deceased climbers whom you wish to save, and whom you do not.”

As expected. At first, I wondered why this responsibility fell to me and not the tower, but it quickly proved complicated. Some of the fallen climbers had bad blood with Ha Hee-Jeong, causing me to feel hesitant. Moreover, simplifying it to bad blood with her didn’t quite capture it. No, they weren’t only tied to her.

Many of her decisions stemmed from her previous life.

Which likely meant they hadn’t only ticked off Ha Hee-Jeong but me and other climbers as well. I didn’t know the specifics, but if she judged that they should die, then those people were truly despicable.

As I had considered before, a million climbers had entered the tower. Statistically speaking, at least a few of them had to be unhinged, and in the worst possible ways, too.

Hmm, I am letting my thoughts drift.

I set the matter aside for the moment.

“And what is the matter concerning the people on Earth?”

“While the climbers were facing the tower’s trials, the people of Earth witnessed their exploits.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Ha Hee-Jeong had told me, and even if she hadn’t, I would have guessed based on the divinity I constantly received. This was simply one of the ways the tower cultivated the top climber’s divinity.

“You may erase those memories or alter their perception of what occurred.”

“What do you mean?”

“Unlike other worlds, Earth possesses highly advanced technology. Also, at least outwardly, Earth fosters the appearance of equality among its inhabitants, even if that isn’t entirely reflected beneath the surface.”

“Yeah.”

Invisible hierarchies certainly existed, but the ideal of human equality still held weight.

“If you dislike the idea of Earth’s inhabitants recognizing you as The Coming Dawn, or if their existing religions and beliefs become troublesome, adjustments can be made.”

Thinking it through, Cho-Yeon’s concerns were far from unreasonable. Although part of me found the idea of being recognized appealing, it would undoubtedly be burdensome. Even celebrities had paparazzi following them, so in my case, the attention would be far more intense. Well, considering the faith I received, perhaps things wouldn’t become that extreme, but nothing was guaranteed. Since my face was already public, living a normal life like before would be impossible. Setting aside the matter of becoming a god, I still had family and friends.

The possibility of religious conflict troubled me even more—entire nations had gone to war over religion in the past. Cho-Yeon seemed to suggest that I consider whether I wished to preempt conflicts born because of me.

“How can those things be changed?”

“For example, I can revise all existing religions to center around The Coming Dawn, or I can erase all memories related to the Tower of Ordeal. There are many possibilities.”

Sensing my hesitation, Cho-Yeon gently added, “Of course, you don’t have to decide now. This is The Coming Dawn’s world, so should you feel uncomfortable later, you may alter it then.”

“Hmm. There’s something I’m curious about. If I erase their memories, wouldn’t that remove their faith in me?”

“There are various methods to avoid that. For instance, instead of removing all traces of The Coming Dawn’s existence, you can choose to remove any recollection of your appearance from their memories.”

That made immediate sense to me. In essence, my feats would remain vividly in their minds, but they would no longer recognize me as the one who had accomplished them.

Thinking back, countless worlds I passed through while climbing the tower functioned similarly. The people devoted themselves to their gods without knowing their gods’ true faces. While some had displayed statues modeled after their divine beings, others were completely unaware of what their gods looked like. Surely those gods disliked excessive attention as well, so this approach likely originated from such preferences.

It didn’t seem like a bad option.

On the other hand, erasing my existence didn’t feel right. After completing the ninety-ninth floor, I had experienced a massive influx of thoughts and emotions from those on Earth—they remained sharp and vivid in my mind. Those sincere, earnest hearts had been indescribable. Even I had been overwhelmed by it.

For now, I wanted to face Earth’s people just as I was, without hiding or changing anything. Since Cho-Yeon said I could change it later, I could always address any problems when they eventually surfaced.

“For the time being, I’ll leave Earth as it is.”

“Understood.”

That still left me with the issue of the climbers’ fates. It wasn’t something easily solved alone. Sorting through nearly one million individuals, one by one, felt impossibly intricate. Without knowing details from Ha Hee-Jeong’s previous life, I couldn’t accurately identify who had truly been malicious.

I glanced toward Cho-Yeon. “I would like to talk it over with Hee-Jeong first. Can I decide after leaving the hundredth floor?”

“Of course.” Cho-Yeon nodded softly. “However, you will have to handle something before that.”

“Huh? What do you mean? Won’t I leave the tower right away?”

“That is correct. What I am referring to is a matter that will be dealt with immediately after you exit the tower and before you meet Ha Hee-Jeong.”

Her statement had come suddenly, but it didn’t unsettle me. I already had an inkling about what she meant. It had to be related to the very reason I had stayed behind to train instead of instantly leaving. Even before the hundredth floor, I had always expected a battle awaited me the moment I left the Tower of Ordeal. Still, now that the moment was approaching, a faint thread of concern curled through me.

“If something happens to me during that process, what happens to Earth or the climbers?”

I wasn’t expecting a disaster to occur, but if even the slightest possibility existed, I needed clarity. If I acted recklessly before deciding the climbers’ fates, only the tower knew what would happen to them. Depending on Cho-Yeon’s response, I would need to decide now.

“This situation is somewhat unusual and complicated, but put simply, ownership of Earth will end up with me. Additionally, the climbers will return to Earth.”

“Really? Earth won’t end up becoming some exploited world forced to fuel the tower, right?”

“That won’t happen,” Cho-Yeon responded firmly in an instant.

Phew.

If the tower was prepared to regulate everything should the worst case occur, then I felt considerably less concerned. Yet something in her explanation caught my attention.

“You said this was a special case. What exactly does that mean?”

“Ordinarily, after conquering the tower and ascending as a god, both the god and their world would receive my protection for one hundred years.”

“Similar to the greenbelt that Earth used to be a part of?”

Cho-Yeon nodded.

It made sense. New gods would need time to adjust. I had been worried about that as well, but the system seemed well-structured. Of course, from a god’s perspective, a span of one hundred years amounted to little more than a symbolic shield.

Still, protection is protection.

However, she had described my case as a deviation from the rule.

“So I won’t receive that protection?”

“No.”

“Because I’m a challenger?”

“No.”

I met Cho-Yeon’s gaze carefully. I wondered if I had to go help Thunder Axe. Leaving the safe zone would practically render the tower’s protection useless. Otherwise, someone could wreak havoc while remaining shielded by the tower, undermining the entire system. Therefore, this “special case” likely existed because most gods simply weren’t strong enough to leave their world.

Hold on.

Then, if something happened to me, wouldn’t Earth be handed over not to the tower but to the opponent I fought? As that thought formed, Cho-Yeon’s words veered far beyond anything I had prepared myself for.

“That is because you should meet Sky of the Nine Heavens.”

“What the fuck?”