Sssanya had expected many things when her father cast her out of the tribe four cycles ago. Exile was often considered the worst thing that could happen to a Najavi short of death, and so she'd anticipated a life of hardship and isolation, fighting alone in the unforgiving wilds of the Great Green Sea. Desperation and despair would be her only companions, she'd thought.
And yet, she'd refused to bow her head or beg forgiveness. The idea that using magic during a formal duel was worthy of casting her out of the tribe was laughable, and she was unwilling to play along with the farce. To this day, she didn't know the real reason, and at some point she'd stopped caring.
The reason didn't matter anymore. Hadn't for a long time. All she cared about at this point was growing strong enough to force them to realise their error in rejecting her. That was why she'd rushed to confront the intruding Outsider, hoping to reach and vanquish them and gain the valuable Essence Points that could potentially propel her up through the levels of the Eternal System. There were few faster ways to gain levels than to eliminate other Climbers.
Many in her tribe disdained reliance on the System, preferring instead to craft tools with the essence of their soul directly. They were fools. Her defeated enemies could act smug about her use of System-granted abilities as a crutch all they wanted. What did their opinions matter if they were defeated?
That was how she'd thought for so many years. Admittedly, she'd relied on her Soul Sphere when tracking down the intruder, and her Ensnaring Vine Staff had been too convenient in the circumstance, so she'd used that too. Her plan had been to subdue the Climber with those weapons, then take her time, utilising a wide variety of abilities, ensuring an even spread of Essence Points once the kill was finally confirmed.
Except everything had gone wrong immediately.
Sssanya had expected many things when her father cast her out of the tribe four cycles ago. Meeting a godsdamned forerunner had not been among them. Even in her most fanciful speculation, how could she possibly have predicted that one of the oldest Climbers of the tower would come strolling into the Great Grass Sea?
The forerunners were practically legends. Myths. People spoke of them in the way they did outdated concepts like the old creation myths and pantheons from the Najavi's ancient lost home world, with an undertone that they weren't actually real.
But what else could the man she'd confronted possibly be? The ease with which he'd defeated her was one thing—she was under no illusions that she was the strongest or smartest warrior, and there were many beings in the Eternal Tower who could defeat her without blinking. A mere Level 3,000 was nothing to some of the old monsters from the higher floors she had seen from a distance at the meetings of the Council of 100.
Even the absurd destruction he'd wrought just by slapping his chest wasn't that unbelievable. She could think of a few beings capable of it, higher level Climbers who were just names and stories to one such as her. The Ravager. Sulman Starstrider. Zarindel. Maybe Gyaa, God-Chief of all Najavi, had the necessary strength. There were surely a few more she couldn't recall presently, too.
But none of them would have failed to recognise a Najavi, or the other things this Daniel had been honestly clueless about. He'd said it himself: he hadn't met any other race but those of his home planet.
It was physically impossible for a Climber to reach the 1,792nd floor without meeting other races. Even isolated Descendant races such as her tribe met other Climber races regularly, or were at least aware of them.
There had been only one explanation.
The man she'd attacked had not met any other Climber races because there had not been any other Climber races upon his entrance to the Eternal Tower.
Using [Observe], a basic Skill provided to every Climber who made it past the tutorial floor and became a competitor in the Tower's great game, had confirmed it for her. Having crossed the level 100 threshold in the Skill, she was able to comprehend the level of beings a hundred times stronger than her. In other words, she could, theoretically, discern the power of a Level 350,000 being. The highest she'd ever seen, during a trip up to the 5,822nd floor, was a beast at Level 211,216.
In other words, Dan was at least 100,000 levels higher than the strongest being she'd ever met.
And she had attacked him. She'd almost fainted when she'd realised just what she had done.
It was rare that Sssanya had reason to be thankful she was still alive. The mere shockwave of him slapping his chest had injured her more severely than any fight she'd had in years.
Everything she'd seen from him since that revelation only backed up her belief. When she'd told him of the King of Shashyahshyatyashasssaya, she had assumed he would simply go and have a look at the creature, maybe swim up close to it and 'confront' it like some of the warriors of her former tribe liked to do to impress each other. Hasssaya was highly respected for getting close enough to the creature to describe its eyes.
Dan had rode it into the sky. Then he'd transformed into a great gold and crimson dragon himself and danced with it. She couldn't even imagine what rank a Spell that could do that must be.
Sssanya didn't know why she'd made assumptions about the forerunner based on her own lived experiences and those of her tribe. Of course he would go further than any of the puny warriors of her tribe. Of course he would befriend it. A mighty being such as he would see one of the great kings of the Seven Lakes as a cute pet to play with. He'd probably seen dragons of a level ten times higher than the King of Shashyahshyatyashasssaya. Fought them. Killed them.
In the stories, forerunners were god-like existences with seven-digit levels who Climbed up to floors tens of thousands above hers. It had always sounded silly to her, unbelievable. Yes, the Frontier floors were said to contain ancient ruins, but surely that was mere NPC activity? The Eternal Tower spawned plenty of sentient beings to challenge Climbers in the course of its trials and quests, after all.
Now she wondered. Now, she watched as Dan casually approach three of the strongest warriors in the Great Green Sea Tribe—Hasssaya, Musssin, and Larosss—having moments ago been casually throwing them around the sky, and wondered just how high his level really was, how many Skills and Spells he had, what treasures were hidden in his Inventory, what monsters he'd seen, what floor he'd reached.
Those thoughts were quickly crowded out by the joy of watching her sister's mate get taken apart in hand-to-hand combat.
Hasssaya was known as the best wrestler and boxer in the tribe for a reason. To her frustration, he thoroughly deserved it. Not only did he win their local competitions with contemptuous ease, she'd seen on the nexus that he'd actually won a tournament involving the entire Najavi. There were said to be over a trillion Najavi in the Eternal Tower, and Hasssaya had proven himself the apex combatant among them. Some were talking of sending him to Council of 100 tournaments to represent the Najavi against other races. Not even telling herself that plenty of strong warriors would have disdained to involve themselves in such pageantry had eased the acidic sting of that revelation.
Representing her people against the other Climber races had always been a dream of hers. A silly one, perhaps. But ever since she's been to the Grand Exhibition on the 5,000th floor in her youth, she'd dreamed of standing victorious in that enormous arena herself, the crowd adoringly singing her name.
That Hasssaya may receive the opportunity irked her on a deep level.
So, yes, she took great satisfaction in watching Dan beat the venom out of him.
The ancient immortal flowed like water, struck faster than a whip, hit harder than a mountain. She had gathered that something about her situation had irritated him. Perhaps in his youth, however many millions of years ago that was, he had experienced a similar kind of ostracisation?
Either way, it was clear he had immense experience in combat that not even Hasssaya could match. The strongest warrior in her former tribe looked like an untrained child compared to the forerunner.
Every time Hasssaya tried to block, Dan broke right through, too strong. When he tried to parry and deflect, Dan flowed past his feeble attempts, too fast. When the snake of red scale tried a desperate counter attack, Dan simply was not there, moving with impossible grace to sway out of the way of attacks that Sssanya herself could barely follow.
And this was all while the other two were trying to take advantage of any potential openings, throwing themselves at the forerunner with reckless abandon, desperate to defend their leader. He was practically ignoring them, slapping them aside whenever they came close, focusing most of his attention on Hasssaya.
It became clear the forerunner was toying with her former tribe's combat expert. With his strength, he could have ended the bout at any moment, but he was controlling his blows, making them little more than admonishing slaps around Hasssaya's face.
Hasssaya tried to dodge.
Slap.
Hasssaya tried to block.
Slap.
Hasssaya tried to go on the attack.
Slap, slap, slap.
Sssanya couldn't decide what was more satisfying: the sounds of the slaps, or the rictus of rage twisting Hasssaya's features. The warrior snake prided himself on his composure. He'd always been so calm, so collected, barely twitching his expression even in the most stressful of situations. Sssanya had always envied and hated him for that. Her composure functionally didn't exist. Scaredy-snake Sssanya, they called her. At one time, she had cried more in a week than the entirety of her family did in a year.
Thinking of that fact, she decided it didn't matter which was more satisfying. She would just enjoy the satisfaction for itself. The fact a forerunner had taken one look at her circumstances and decided this punishment was deserved just made it all the sweeter.
That being said, it did go on for a very long time.
Musssin and Larosss eventually fell to the ground, trembling with exhaustion, covered in bruises and scrapes from where Dan had been slapping them contemptuously aside. Hasssaya stayed stubbornly standing, but he was swaying, drooping, struggling to keep himself held upright, barely even able to maintain his guard.
It got to a point where Dan was merely slapping him over and over, forehand then backhand then forehand then backhand, the slaps going uncontested as Hasssaya stubbornly refused to go down, both of his cheeks standing out an even starker red than the rest of his scales. The proud warrior's eyes were drooping, but he determinedly stared down the forerunner.
Sssanya would never get tired of that sound, but a part of her did wonder just how long this could go on for.
As if in response to the thought, Dan decided to bring it to an end. There was no warning. There wasn't even that much of a change in the scenario. Eventually, he seemed to grow tired of the farce, and one of his slaps hit much harder than the others, and Hasssays slammed to the ground, falling still in the dent in the dirt his body had made.
Silence descended at the lake shore. Dan placed his hands on his hips, looking around at the three fallen warriors, then over at Sssanya.
"How was that?" he asked.
Sssanya forced herself to blink, wondering how long her eyes had been wide open for, how long she had been utterly still, entranced, enthralled. Her lips moved uselessly for a moment before she managed to summon the words.
"I would have much preferred to slap him myself," she said. Then her hands flew to her mouth. Disrespecting a forerunner, questioning his actions?! What was she thinking?!
But Dan just snorted. "I can pick him up and hold him still for you?"
Another moment of silence passed.
Sssanya cleared her throat. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble…"