CHAPTER 94: CH 94: TEST BEFORE THE TOWER- PART 1

The moment the tower fully materialized in the heart of the continent, the world changed.

Across every corner of the globe, the sky shimmered with ethereal light. The air buzzed with power.

Then came the system notification—a universal broadcast that echoed inside every awakened user’s mind and interface.

[World Announcement: The Echoes of tower has Concluded.]

[Warning: A complete recalibration of the global ranking and classification system is now underway. Please remain calm. This is a necessary adjustment to accommodate the new Tower Protocols.]

The internet, already an unstable mess of rumor and speculation, erupted into chaos. Streams, forums, and social networks were flooded.

Screens filled with countdowns, theory videos, panicked rants, and excited screams. Everyone was talking about the same thing:

The Tower was real—and it was here.

Inside the high-S-class dungeon he had just cleared, Fenrir narrowed his eyes as he stared at the pulsing notification on his system screen.

"Well. That’s loud."

He muttered, and dismissed the floating window with a flick of his fingers.

The five hamsters stood at attention nearby, each looking ready for further orders, while Nedrax lazed beside a shattered stone pillar, curling and uncurling his tail like a bored cat.

"Go back. Head to the base. I’ll meet you later."

Fenrir ordered quietly, his voice steady despite the world turning upside down.

Nedrax raised a brow but didn’t argue. With a burst of light, Fenrir’s summons disappeared one by one, transported back to the private dungeon they called home.

Once alone, Fenrir began walking out of the dungeon.

And there it was.

He stepped outside into the crisp evening air—and saw it.

In the distance, far beyond the jagged hills where he had entered this dungeon, the Tower stood.

It pierced the clouds like a divine spear, its massive, silver form gleaming with magical inscriptions that seemed to move and shift.

The very sight of it sent chills down his spine—familiar ones. Like he was looking at something from a half-forgotten dream.

His system pinged again.

[Update Completed.]

A new interface slid into view, much sleeker than before—something that looked suspiciously like a high-end MMORPG screen.

A detailed map had been added. A world leaderboard tab now hovered temptingly on the side. His profile had changed too.

[Name: Fenrir Black]

[Class: The Returned Tyrant]

[Level: 50 | Current Tier: S-Rank]

[Title: Echo Reclaimer]

"Level 50. And that’s S-rank?"

Fenrir muttered under his breath, eyes scanning the stats.

He remembered something someone had once said—maybe Rick or a senior from the Guild—about how the Tower didn’t use the same kind of class system as the world did.

Something about the real rankings starting at Level 50, not ending there.

"Guess that means... Tower rankers start where we stop. Typical."

He smiled wryly.

In his last life, he hadn’t needed a system. He’d clawed his way through the tower’s floors on sheer will, instinct, and an understanding of magic few could match.

Back then, he didn’t even know what a ’level’ was.

This time, things would be different. Easier? Maybe. But also more structured.

He wondered just how high his level had been before—at the top of the tower, before the divine beings targeted him and he’d scattered his power across its infinite halls.

"What level was I even at? I don’t think I ever know. Would I reach that level soon?"

He mused aloud.

"Or would I break the ceiling entirely?"

Before he could fall too deep into that thought, another system notification slammed into view—red this time.

[Emergency Alert: Due to the Tower’s manifestation and pending threat assessment, all awakened individuals are ordered to remain indoors until further notice.]

[This is a global directive. Violation will result in forced containment or penalties. Await further instruction from the World Union.]

Fenrir raised an eyebrow.

"Ah, so the panic phase has started."

His phone buzzed in his pocket before he could even begin walking. No doubt Fredric and Rick were already calling him, ready to lock him in a bunker.

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he turned back toward the tower—just barely visible over the horizon, tall enough to dwarf cities and cast shadows over entire regions.

It was starting again. The climb. The madness. The desperation.

And somewhere inside that tower was the rest of him.

Fenrir let out a breath and muttered.

"Looks like I’ll be breaking a few emergency laws."

With that, he turned and began walking—already thinking about what supplies he’d need for the first floor.

______

Inside the endless halls of the Tower, where time bent and space twisted, a soft chime echoed—a tone that no floor ruler had heard in a very, very long time.

[Announcement: A new world has been reconnected to the Tower.]

[Species: Human. Entry Imminent.]

The message reverberated through every floor, bouncing between dimensions, halls, and dominions.

A hush fell across the Tower’s many civilizations.

Then came the whispers. Then the outrage.

In the royal chambers of the 12th floor, a gathering of powerful rulers convened around a floating crystal, each face tense and thunderous.

"Humans? Again? Have we learned nothing from the chaos they brought before?"

A horned warlord growled, slamming his goblet onto the table.

"They shouldn’t even have a Tower Gate anymore. That world was locked for a reason."

Hissed a sorceress draped in floating veils of shadow.

A few murmurs rose in the chamber.

Some wore expressions of excitement—young climbers who had never seen humans in their time, curious about the new competition. But most of the tower elites were furious.

"They’ll bring war again. And that one—that monster—he might come back. I still remember what he did to the seventh realm."

Snarled a centaurian general, pounding a massive fist on the table.

That name wasn’t spoken, but everyone there thought it: Fenrir.

The Tyrant who once climbed the tower without a system. The one who tore through rulers and beasts alike without mercy.

The one who nearly reached the pinnacle before vanishing—only after throwing the entire hierarchy into ruin.

"We won’t allow it again. If they climb, they’ll be crushed before they reach the second floor."

A regal, scaled being said coldly.

Another, cloaked in bone-white armor, leaned forward.

"Let them try. We’ll remind them of their place. Fear is the only thing they should carry into this Tower."

The horned warlord grunted.

"Then let us begin preparations. I have a puppet stationed on the First Floor. He’s been loyal enough—fed well and kept blind to the truth."

He smiled, jagged teeth gleaming.

"I’ll make sure he knows what to do. The first wave of humans will be disciplined."

There were murmurs of agreement, and the room darkened as the meeting ended.

Meanwhile, across the Tower, the news spread like wildfire—through floors, factions, and hidden realms.

Humans were returning.

Some cheered. Some trembled.

And a few, remembering the past, whispered.

"He’s coming back."

There was no telling if this was the truth, or if these tower people were projecting their fear of Fenrir being back.

After all, it was a well-known face that the divine had sealed off Fenrir in a place where no one could reach him. The chances of him coming back were low.

But never zero. And since they were not zero, people felt like they were on edge the whole time.

The tower was about to be shaken up.