CHAPTER 107: CH 107: NEW KING- PART 3

King Gorgon stood before the restrained lady, his massive arms crossed and his spear grounded beside him.

The weight of silence hung over the plaza, thick with uncertainty. The guards stood nearby, watching both their former leader and their new master, unsure of what would happen next.

"What do we do with her?"

Gorgon asked, voice low and steady as he turned to Fenrir.

Fenrir didn’t hesitate.

"We don’t need her. Get rid of her."

The words were cold and final.

Gasps broke out among the onlookers. The lady’s eyes widened in disbelief.

"Wait—what did you just say?"

Fenrir stepped closer, his eyes locked on her without an ounce of sympathy.

"You heard me."

She shook her head slowly, trying to compose herself.

"If you do this... if you kill me, you’ll never leave the first floor. I control the gate. Without my message, the second floor won’t open. You’ll be stuck here forever, just like the rest of them."

Her voice, once so calm and commanding, now carried a hint of desperation.

Some of the nearby guards shifted uncomfortably, glancing at each other. One of them stepped forward cautiously.

"My lord... perhaps we should... consider sparing her. If she really controls the gate—"

But Fenrir laughed, interrupting him.

"Oh, she does control the gate. That’s the problem."

The lady’s expression faltered.

Fenrir’s tone sharpened, cutting through the tension like a blade.

"You think I didn’t notice? There are people here who should’ve climbed a long time ago. Strong fighters. Wise mages. Skilled warriors. And yet they’re all still here."

He turned to the crowd, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear.

"You’ve been trapped—by her."

The silence turned heavy. The people started murmuring to each other, eyes filled with doubt and unease.

"No... that’s not true. I helped everyone. I gave them structure, safety—"

The lady tried to say, raising her voice.

"Lies. If you really helped them, they wouldn’t be here. You were hoarding them. Controlling them. Turning this floor into your little kingdom.

Fenrir cut in.

Her lip trembled, just slightly, but she quickly masked it with anger.

"They needed order."

"No. You needed control."

Fenrir said with finality.

The people turned on her now. Faces that once looked to her with trust were now cold, uncertain, even afraid. The air had shifted, and even she could feel it.

King Gorgon stared at her silently, no pity in his eyes.

Fenrir turned to him.

"You’ve earned your first real victory. I’ll take care of her. You go back to your people."

The king nodded.

"Understood."

As the guards stepped back, the lady began to panic, her voice rising.

"You’re making a mistake, Gorgon. You need me. You won’t be able to leave without me! You’ll be stuck, just like the rest—!"

Fenrir leaned in, close enough that only she could hear his next words.

"I don’t need you. The gate to the next floor opens automatically when the boss is defeated."

He whispered.

Her entire body went still.

She stared at him, speechless.

"No... How do you—how do you know the boss has returned...?"

Fenrir smiled, cold and sharp.

"That’s a secret."

And then, with one swift motion, he plunged his blade through her heart.

The lady gasped, her breath catching in her throat. Her body trembled, eyes wide with shock as she reached for him—then collapsed, lifeless, to the ground.

The square was silent. Everyone stared, processing what had just happened.

______

King Gorgon stood tall beside Fenrir, his imposing figure casting a long shadow over the blood-streaked plaza.

The city was still reeling from the recent events—the duel, the betrayal, the execution—but the people looked to their king and his new master for answers.

And it was King Gorgon who finally broke the silence.

"So... what do you plan to do now, Fenrir?"

He asked, his voice calm but laced with curiosity.

Fenrir looked toward the horizon, toward the invisible ceiling that separated the first floor from what lay beyond.

"I’m going to break this tower and open the path to the next floor."

He said plainly, as if announcing the weather.

Gasps rippled through the gathered crowd like a wave. Even King Gorgon’s brows twitched slightly in surprise.

"You’re serious?"

The king asked, though he already knew the answer.

Fenrir didn’t even turn to look at him.

"Deadly serious."

King Gorgon crossed his arms.

"No one has seen a new path open in thousands of years. The last time anyone climbed was before my ancestors were even born. What makes you think you’ll be able to do what no one else has?"

Fenrir turned to him with a faint grin.

"Would you like to bet on it?"

That made the king laugh—a deep, genuine sound that echoed across the plaza.

"No. I won’t make that mistake. My instincts tell me you’ll find a way to make the impossible possible."

"Smart. Now that the false gatekeeper is gone, the real path should reveal itself soon enough."

Fenrir said, eyes flicking over the crowd.

King Gorgon was quiet for a moment before speaking again.

"You’ll climb this tower. And you’ll go far, I can feel it. But... will you climb alone?"

Fenrir tilted his head.

"Are you offering to come with me?"

"I would...But..."

King Gorgon said without hesitation

He turned and looked at his people—wounded, tired, yet watching him with wide, uncertain eyes.

"They need me here. For now, I’m more than just a king. I’m a symbol. A figurehead holding them together. Until they can walk on their own two feet... I cannot leave."

Fenrir studied him for a moment, then shrugged.

"A shame. You might have been useful."

King Gorgon chuckled.

"You’re not very good at pretending to be disappointed."

"I’m not pretending. But I’m also not sorry. If anything, I’m entertained."

Fenrir replied, lips twitching in amusement.

He paused for a moment before continuing, voice lower, more thoughtful.

"And who knows... you might get your wish sooner than you think."

The king frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"Humanity has entered the tower. That alone will shake everything."

Fenrir said simply.

The words hung in the air like a prophecy.

King Gorgon seemed to understand what he meant. New challengers, new ambitions, and new chaos—all brought by the arrival of a race not bound by the old rules of the tower.

"You believe they’ll rise?"

Gorgon asked.

"I believe they’ll try. Some will fail. Others will climb. But one thing’s for sure... the tower won’t stay the same."

Fenrir said.

"And you? What won’t change for you?"

Gorgon’s voice lowered.

Fenrir’s eyes glinted.

"The end result."

There was a pause.

"You want the top."

The king said, almost to himself.

"No. I want what’s beyond the top."

Fenrir said softly.

King Gorgon felt a chill pass through him, though he didn’t show it. It wasn’t fear, exactly—but something close. Something like awe.

"You’re more than a warrior."

He said.

"I’m inevitable."

Fenrir replied.

The plaza was still. The people didn’t cheer, didn’t cry, didn’t move.

They could feel the shift in the world, the shift that came with one man standing unchallenged after tearing down their false rulers and daring to speak of tearing down the tower itself.

"So be it. If you reach the top... tell them the first floor was not weak. Tell them we fought."

The king finally said.

Fenrir smirked.

"If I reach the top, I won’t need to tell them anything. They’ll already know."

Then he turned his back to the crowd, to the king, and to the broken illusion of peace that had ruled this floor for too long.

The tower awaited.

And Fenrir would climb.

But before that, he needed to retrieve what he left behind on the first floor.