The world shifted again.
But this time—
There was no distortion.
No violent transition.
Drax simply… arrived.
Floor Five.
And for the first time since entering the tower—
It was quiet.
Truly quiet.
The ground beneath his feet reflected the sky perfectly, like he was standing on a surface made of still water. Above him stretched an endless blue, clouds drifting slowly—
And yet—
There was no sun.
No wind.
No movement in the air.
Just stillness.
Drax stood there for a moment, hands in his pockets.
"…Feels too calm."
Then he saw him.
Not far ahead—
A man sat on the ground.
Long black hair flowed down his back, unmoving despite the open sky. His robes were dark, simple, yet carried a weight that didn't belong to this place.
A sword rested across his lap.
He wasn't meditating.
He wasn't sleeping.
He was just…
Sitting.
Waiting.
Drax started walking toward him.
Step by step.
Calm.
Measured.
But then—
His instincts flared.
Sharp.
Immediate.
Don't get too close.
Drax stopped.
Just outside a certain distance.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"…Yeah," he muttered. "You're not normal."
The man moved.
Slowly, he stood up.
His hand wrapped around the sword.
No introduction.
No words.
Just action.
Drax's Abyssal Sword formed in his hand instantly.
The man stepped forward—
And swung.
A single downward strike.
Simple.
Clean.
Drax raised his blade to block—
CLANG.
The impact exploded through his arms.
Heavy.
Too heavy.
His stance nearly broke.
"…Strong."
But instead of resisting—
Drax let the force guide him.
He tilted his blade slightly, redirecting the strike downward instead of taking it head-on.
The man's sword slid along his own—
And struck the ground.
At that exact moment—
Drax moved.
A vertical slash aimed straight for the man's head.
Clean.
Precise.
Fast.
But—
The man ducked.
Not rushed.
Not panicked.
Just… perfectly timed.
He stepped forward into Drax's space.
His right foot kicked upward—
Knocking Drax's blade off its path.
Then—
Without hesitation—
He twisted his body and kicked toward Drax's face.
Drax reacted instantly.
His left hand came up—
Blocking the strike.
The force pushed him back several steps.
The man stepped back as well.
Distance reset.
Silence.
Drax looked at him.
Then—
He smiled.
"…Perfect."
He rolled his shoulder once.
"You're gonna teach me swordsmanship."
The man didn't respond immediately.
But then—
A faint smile appeared on his face.
His sword—
Glowed.
A deep red light spread along the blade, humming with something far beyond raw power.
He swung again.
Just once.
Drax dodged sideways.
The strike didn't hit him.
But—
The sky split.
A massive slash carved through the entire sky above them, tearing it open like paper.
For a moment—
There was nothing behind it.
Just emptiness.
Then—
It healed.
Like it had never happened.
Drax stared at it for a second.
"…So that's sword essence."
He exhaled slowly.
Then looked down at his own blade.
"…Coating it with abyssal essence…"
He lifted it slightly.
"…That's not the same thing."
His gaze sharpened.
"My sword… my heart… my mind…"
He took a step forward.
"…They need to be one."
The man raised his blade again.
No aura this time.
No glow.
Just a sword.
Drax mirrored him.
And for the first time since entering the tower—
He suppressed everything else.
No devour.
No domain.
No inner world.
Just—
Sword.
Steel met steel.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Each clash sharper than the last.
Each movement more refined.
Drax's breathing slowed.
His thoughts quieted.
Every strike carried intent.
Every step carried meaning.
The man didn't overwhelm him with power.
He didn't rush.
Didn't dominate.
He simply—
Cut.
And forced Drax to understand what it meant to cut back.
Time passed.
Unclear how long.
But Drax didn't stop.
Didn't hesitate.
Didn't fall back on anything else.
Because here—
That would mean death.
And he knew it.
"…Good," he muttered under his breath as their blades clashed again.
A faint smile formed.
"This is what I needed."
Cut — Norn City
The world outside the tower was not quiet.
It was chaos.
News channels blared across every screen.
Emergency broadcasts.
Government alerts.
Panic.
On the television—
A reporter stood in front of a massive white structure rising from the ocean.
Her voice trembled slightly despite her attempt to remain composed.
"—Multiple towers have appeared across the world simultaneously. Authorities are urging all civilians to stay away from these structures—"
The screen shifted.
Different locations.
Different continents.
Towers rising from cities.
From mountains.
From the sea.
"—Reports confirm that individuals who enter may not return. Even high-ranking hunters are finding these towers extremely dangerous—"
Inside a modest home in Norn—
Three figures sat watching.
Mira sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes wide.
Ellis leaned forward, completely focused.
"…Hyung went in one of those," Ellis said quietly.
Mira nodded slowly.
"…He'll be fine."
But behind them—
Lyra stood still.
Her eyes locked onto the screen.
The image shifted again.
A white tower—
Rising from the sea near the Land of the Dead.
Her breath caught.
Her hand slowly rose to her mouth.
"…That tower…"
Her vision blurred slightly.
Memories surfaced.
A man.
A promise.
A disappearance.
Her voice didn't come out.
But her thoughts did.
The tower that took him…
She turned slightly, wiping her eyes quickly before the children could notice.
She forced a small smile.
"…It's nothing," she said softly.
But when she looked back at the screen—
Her composure cracked for just a second.
Richard…
Her fingers clenched slightly.
If you're still alive in there…
Her lips trembled.
Even if it's just a fragment… a wisp of you…
She closed her eyes briefly.
Then whispered in her heart—
Come back to us.
The screen continued to flash with images of the towers.
And somewhere inside one of them—
Drax continued to fight.
Not as a Monarch.
Not as the Abyss.
But as something far more dangerous—
A man learning how to cut.