The light faded with a harsh, metallic snap.
Ethan staggered as the world reshaped around them, and instantly the atmosphere changed—gone was the lavender calm of the valley. The air here felt tight, compressed, as though the entire floor held its breath.
A single lantern flickered above them, suspended in an endless corridor of polished black stone. The walls reflected their distorted silhouettes like warped mirrors.
Selene shivered. "Great. We went from dreamy-purple-VR-chill-zone to 'welcome to your murder hallway.' Love the variety."
Aeloria crouched, running her fingertips across the floor. "There's no dust. No scent. No airflow. This place is… intentionally sterile."
Lyra's eyes narrowed. "A floor built for ambush."
Seraphine exhaled slowly, her composure steelier than before. "Be on guard. The Seventh Floor is where many challengers falter."
Ethan looked down the corridor. It stretched on without any visible exit. "System, what's the trial?"
The answer appeared before his eyes.
[Floor 7 Trial: The Silent Blades][Condition: Survive unseen assassins within the Hall of Echoes.Sound attracts death.]
Selene's jaw dropped. "Sound attracts—oh come on! You expect me to be quiet?!"
Ethan held a finger to his lips. "Selene."
"…Right. Sorry."
They began walking, each step chosen carefully. The corridor swallowed every sound, turning even their soft movements into a tense silence. The lantern above flickered, its glow barely enough to push back the darkness.
A whisper of movement brushed past Ethan's ear.
He froze.
Aeloria's hand shot out, gripping his sleeve—her eyes sharp, her breath controlled. She didn't speak. Didn't need to.
A thin line appeared on the wall next to them, as though an invisible blade had just barely missed Ethan's throat.
Seraphine clenched her gauntleted fist. "They're here."
The assassins were not visible—not completely. They flickered like incomplete shadows, distortions of light that skimmed the edges of vision. When they moved, the air warped.
Selene pointed, mouthing a silent: "HOW?!"
Aeloria's answer was just as silent, just as urgent: "They track vibrations."
Lyra pulled Ethan slightly behind her, her expression composed. "We move steady. No panic."
But the corridor began to change.
Simple description:
The walls shifted as they walked, elongating and bending, turning the straight hallway into a spiraling maze of dark stone and faint lanterns.
Small echoes—soft at first—started appearing in random places. A footstep behind them. A soft exhale from the right. A faint scrape above.
Illusions meant to lure them.Real assassins hidden among them.
Ethan felt the pressure building in his chest. His heartbeat was loud—too loud.
Seraphine moved closer to him, her voice a whisper softer than a breath. "If you panic, the killers will hear. Stay with me."
Her hand brushed his arm—not grabbing, just grounding him.
A blur flashed behind Selene.
A blade formed from shadow curved toward her neck.
Lyra didn't think. She pressed two fingers together and released a pulse of holy mana—silent but bright enough to distort the air. The assassin's form faltered, giving Selene time to duck.
Selene mouthed, "I owe you a cake."
Lyra blushed, mouthing back, "Not now!"
Aeloria's daggers glinted faintly as she slid forward in total silence, reading the air rather than sight. She struck the empty space beside her—metal met resistance. A distorted figure hissed and dissolved like ink.
Ethan realized something.
The assassins became solid only at the moment they were about to strike.
"Seraphine—your shield!" Ethan whispered.
She nodded and raised her broken, battered armguard. Despite its damage, it resonated with her mana. A silent ripple spread out—like a beacon without sound.
The corridor responded.
Where assassins moved, the ripple bent around them, revealing silhouettes.
Aeloria smirked.Selene's eyes lit up.Lyra steadied her stance.Ethan lifted his sword.
The fight was silent chaos.
Seraphine blocked invisible blades with her shield, sparks forming without noise.Aeloria's attacks were swift and surgical, each dagger finding a flickering throat.Selene charged, fists glowing with compressed mana, smashing air and shadow alike.Lyra moved gracefully, sealing wounds and blessing their movements without a word.
Ethan cut through the largest silhouette—a towering assassin of condensed darkness. As his blade connected, a shock of force rippled through the corridor.
The floor stilled.
Silence deepened.
Then:
[Floor 7 Cleared][Reward: The Echo Band — Allows the wearer to sense hidden hostility.]
Selene exhaled loudly—then flinched when the sound echoed. "We're done, right? Trial's over? Please tell me I didn't just summon a round two."
Ethan laughed quietly. "We're safe."
Seraphine stepped toward him again, eyes soft but proud. "You understood the trial quickly. Your instincts are… impressive."
Ethan scratched his cheek. "I just didn't want any of you getting hurt."
Aeloria raised an eyebrow. "And we intend to ensure you don't get hurt either."
Lyra smiled warmly. "Together."
Selene threw her arms behind her head. "Okay, emotional moment achieved. Next floor, please!"
The corridor dissolved into a cascade of shattering mirrors, pulling them upward.
The Eighth Floor awaited—and for the first time, Ethan sensed a whisper in the void.
A presence watching him.Interested in him.Waiting.
Something—or someone—far beyond the Tower's normal trials.