[60 hours 28 minutes until the rest period ends. Please take a rest.]

I spent quite some time pondering whether I could control the power granted by the Potion of Allure. No matter how hard I tried, though, I couldn’t find an answer. I considered it a power, but in truth, there wasn’t anything tangible to manipulate. If it had been a form of mana I could sense and guide, I probably could have grasped it.

However, despite being crafted by a god, the potion contained no trace of divinity.

It appears to quite literally just be a basic mixture of ingredients without a special brewing process.

Even when I heightened my senses to their utmost, I felt nothing out of the ordinary. My newfound “ability” was as natural and elusive as the wind itself, something that existed but was impossible to seize.

I couldn’t tell whether it worked like pheromones or some other unknown mechanism. I wasn’t capable of consciously regulating my cells, nor did I have the knowledge to understand such minute workings.

Eventually, I decided it wasn’t worth wasting my time on. If I truly wanted to know, I could always ask the god who had given it to me.

When I first received it, I wasn’t in the right state of mind.

Although I had asked what it was, the god had only smiled in response. There had been too many others waiting for me to really press him. Still, there was one thing I was thankful for. Poong-Lyeong hadn’t reacted out of affection or desire.

During our earlier conversation, it had been so startled by my assumption that it had immediately rushed to clarify, “It isn’t a romantic feeling! It’s more like respect. I always felt that way, but now you just seem more distant, harder to approach. I’m not exactly sure how to describe it.”

Despite fumbling its words, unable to express itself clearly, I could tell it had responded genuinely. After thinking about it a bit more, I realized it wasn’t anything unusual. Allure didn’t necessarily require a romantic sentiment. Much like Kalain’s Cloak of Dominion, alluring someone just meant catching their attention, fascinating them into focusing on oneself.

In a way, it was a virtue that a god ought to possess.

After all, gods draw power from the devotion of others.

While earning faith through deeds was ideal, naturally evoking reverence wasn’t a bad thing either. It meant that even strangers, not just followers, could offer faith. Perhaps that was why the gods in the Abyss had looked at me with subtle envy back then. Of course, some likely desired that allure for less noble reasons. Still, I wanted to believe my interpretation was correct.

Either way, it wasn’t something worth fixating on.

After leaving the hot spring, I threw myself back into training. I organized the insights I had gained from sparring with the gods and revisited my fierce struggle against the prisoners. My greatest focus was on refining my movements, analyzing when I could have reacted faster, struck more precisely, or avoided unnecessary harm.

At the time, I had moved instinctively, convinced each decision was the best one. Looking back, however, I could see spots where I had fallen short. In most cases, there were more optimal paths I hadn’t taken.

Ah, that is enough.

Having started resting, I pushed thoughts of training aside. Though I was merely reviewing what I had done, there was little reason to dwell on it again. Lately, that feeling had only grown stronger. My days had turned into an endless repetition of training, resting, and then training again. It was as if my life revolved around the constant pursuit of refinement.

As I climbed the tower, I often found myself wondering if I had become obsessed—perhaps even consumed—by my own need to grow stronger. In the beginning, I had found the routine monotonous, but at some point, I began to take comfort in it. The steady rhythm of progress, the small but undeniable signs of improvement.

Well...

Lately, I could feel a faint sense of aversion creeping in. My exhaustion wasn’t just physical. It pressed down on my mind like a lingering fatigue I couldn’t shake off.

It wasn’t as I isolated myself, either. Poong-Lyeong remained faithfully by my side, and since the ninetieth floor, I had met with Natalie, Gehenna, and the fairies in Seorden’s Forest multiple times.

I am tired of this.

No, more than that. I was utterly exhausted.

Meeting others no longer eased that heaviness. What I truly wished for was to see Ha Hee-Jeong. Perhaps it was because I had waved my hands at her on the ninety-eighth floor. Ever since entering the waiting room, her face had appeared in my thoughts again and again.

We had waited to confess our feelings until it was too late. We had both known how we felt, but we had convinced ourselves that waiting was wiser. It hadn’t been wrong, but it hadn’t been entirely right either.

Even so, I never allowed that to distract me from climbing the tower.

It didn’t matter who else I met. Ha Hee-Jeong was the one who understood me best. She had been there from the beginning, even before I had truly matured. Of course, her understanding of me within the tower partly stemmed from her memories of her previous life, but even beyond that, she knew me better than anyone. Perhaps even better than my parents or myself.

That isn’t an exaggeration, but a fact.

Perhaps that was why she always came to mind when I grew tired of climbing the tower. Thinking back, every word from her during this climb had been a source of comfort. No matter how harsh the trials had been, returning to the waiting room and hearing her mix of worry and gentle scolding had always made me feel as if I had returned to Earth, to the life I had once lived.

She always knew what to say and when to say it.

When I struggled, she told me to stay strong. When I grew weary, she encouraged me or urged me to push harder. She always understood me, even without me saying anything. I missed that warmth more deeply than I had realized.

Recollecting the climb, I doubted I would have made it this far without Ha Hee-Jeong.

It wasn’t because of her knowledge as a regressor, though. It was something far more personal, rooted in the mind and spirit. I had wavered countless times, consumed by the thought I couldn’t continue.

Despite knowing I had done my best in different situations with the information presented to me, I still regretted some of my actions. The fifty-fourth floor was one of them. During that trial, instead of saving civilians from revolutionaries who planned to bomb the city, I had observed from the side.

The situation had been complicated, and though I had grown disillusioned with my choices, the regret remained. I hadn’t realized how deeply worn down, both mentally and emotionally, I had been then. Even now, I couldn’t say I was in perfect shape. I had tried to keep up a facade of composure, but deep down, I could feel something within me had changed.

In fact, I had nearly reached my breaking point several times.

I exhaled slowly and forced the heaviness in my chest to fade.

“Haaaaa.”

Emotions like these would only cloud my focus. Even if these thoughts had surfaced because the end was near, that was all the more reason to remain centered. I needed to quiet my mind, to ground myself in the present. It wouldn’t be easy, but it was my best path forward.

Still...

It felt wrong to cut off that train of thought completely.

Just a little longer. Let me remember something good.

Images of Ha Hee-Jeong came to mind, such as the calm moments we had shared at the last rest area, and the rare sense of ease they brought me. I focused on that warmth, on those fleeting memories that still felt vivid and alive. After several minutes, I let out a slow breath and expelled the last traces of those lingering thoughts. Resolved, I reached out and took hold of Soulbound. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

***

[1 hour 23 minutes until the rest period ends. Please take a rest.]

Several days had passed.

Somewhat surprisingly, I hadn’t visited Natalie or Seorden’s Forest. Although I had considered visiting Natalie, after thinking it over, I realized there was no point. Even if I went, I wouldn’t learn anything new about the coming trial.

If I allowed myself even a brief taste of warmth, I knew I would crave it again.

When Poong-Lyeong asked if I wanted to go, I refused without the slightest bit of hesitation. It didn’t bring it up again. Additionally, I had forced myself to push thoughts of Ha Hee-Jeong aside, which had been quite difficult. It had pained me, but training ceaselessly numbed the feeling.

Within my mindscape, I faced gods I had once fought. Sometimes one at a time, sometimes many together. Kalain, Eternal Feast, and Endless Furnace were among them. I drove myself relentlessly, stripping away all distractions and immersing myself in pure motion.

At one point, I became so absorbed that I nearly unleashed Thunderbird for real.

It even startled me.

My focus had reached a dangerous level. I snapped back to my senses, hastily slapping myself to expedite the process, and resumed training. This had continued without pause until only nine hours were left on the timer. With the fatigue finally catching up to me, I had collapsed heavily on the bed.

I had only arisen a little while ago, with roughly an hour before the next floor.

The next floor loomed ahead, perhaps even the tower’s final trial, but I moved as if it were just another ordinary day. After finishing a light yet nourishing meal, I took a thorough bath to clear my mind and body, then headed toward the training room.

It could be because I stood on the verge of the ninety-ninth floor, but even though this had always been part of my usual routine, something about it felt subtly different. I tried not to dwell on the thought and instead focused on stretching.

Strictly speaking, stretching no longer held any real significance for my current physique, yet it was a habit I had followed for years.

Somewhat basing my order on proximity to my heart, I started by loosening my shoulders, then followed it up with rolling my neck, and finally moved down through my waist, arms, and legs in a steady sequence. Afterward, I gave Soulbound a few measured swings, making sure not to push beyond a comfortable limit.

Forty minutes remained.

Submerging myself into my subconscious, I observed my double-headed axe in all its glory, its muted surface shimmering faintly with azure and gold hues. As I stared at it, it fixed its focus upon me as well. The spirits resonated in unison, exchanging a multitude of emotions—excitement, tension, and subtle exhilaration.

When my emotions merged completely with those of Soulbound, a colossal bolt of lightning tore through the shadows within me. The blue-gold radiance swept away the surrounding darkness.

When I opened my eyes again, only seventeen minutes remained.

Everything was ready. I had already checked my equipment before stepping into the training room.

I no longer wished to wait.

Without a moment’s hesitation, I began walking toward the waiting room. My steps were light but heavy with anticipation. Poong-Lyeong swiftly followed behind me.

As soon as I opened the waiting room door, I lifted my eyes to the empty air above.

“Send me to the ninety-ninth floor.”

[There is still time remaining in the waiting room. Is The Coming Dawn certain he wishes to enter the ninety-ninth floor?]

[This decision cannot be undone.]

Does this mean this really is the last trial?

I didn’t know, and it didn’t matter.

“Yes. Send me,” I replied, firm and unwavering.

Almost instantly, my vision dimmed, and the sensation of weightlessness followed a moment later. A brief passage of time slipped by. Unlike usual, my sight and senses returned before the tower detailed this floor’s trial.

I hadn’t arrived in any particular world this time, and instead stood within the cosmos itself. Countless stars glittered beneath a vast black sky. A faintly unfamiliar feeling filled the void where gravity should have been.

Is this trial set in outer space?

The location was unlike any I had encountered before. Each world had differed from Earth, but this one felt especially alien.

No message had appeared yet.

I stayed alert, sharpening my senses as I waited. Now that the stage had been set, I needed to grow accustomed to this strangeness.

There shouldn’t be any major issues.

I was already used to walking through the air, so the floaty feeling wasn’t entirely new. Just as I began to adapt to the sensations, the delayed message finally appeared.

[Welcome to the ninety-ninth floor of the Tower of Ordeal: Overcoming.]

[Based on the extraordinary growth rate of The Coming Dawn, an alternate version of The Coming Dawn with an additional fifty years of training has been generated.]

[Defeat your future self from fifty years later. Time remaining: 24 years 364 days.]

[If you are defeated, you will not die and will instead respawn. However, one week will be subtracted from the remaining time for each defeat.]

[Regardless of how much time flows within the trial, only a fleeting instant will pass in reality.]