Between Floor 15 and 20
He didn’t look back.
Not at the fading beast. Not at the ruined throne room. Just stepped through the open gate—body cracked, blood-stained, bones groaning under the weight of each breath.
The system didn’t speak again.
It didn’t need to.
He knew the next fights would only get worse.
Floor 16
The floor was nothing but mist. No walls. No ceiling. No visible floor.
Just mist and whispering shadows.
They moved when he moved. Copied his steps. Echoed his stance.
Then attacked.
Each shadow took his shape.
Not his face—his aura. His power. His style.
One after the other, he killed them.
Not cleanly. Not fast.
But he didn’t fall.
The last one shattered in his grip, spine cracking like glass. He stood in silence as the floor bled darkness and the next gate opened without a word.
Floor 17
It was hot.
Not fire. Not lava.
Heat from pressure.
The mont he stepped in, the weight hit him.
Crushed him.
A planetary force.
He sank to one knee. Couldn’t breathe.
The beast here didn’t move. Just stared.
It was made of molten stone, eyes like burning coals. It didn’t swing. Just watched him crawl.
Lucifer dug his fingers into the floor, summoned every drop of blood inside his marrow, and forced himself to stand.
His wings cracked open.
He flared.
The blood vortex returned—this ti white-hot, burning from the inside.
He didn’t fight it.
He beca it.
A single charge.
A single strike.
The molten beast shattered into volcanic ash.
He didn’t scream. Didn’t roar.
Just breathed.
Then walked forward.
Floor 18
Frozen wasteland.
A blizzard with teeth.
It bit into his skin like daggers.
Lucifer’s blood hardened into armor, layer after layer, pulsing with energy.
Three beasts waited.
Pack hunters.
No bigger than dogs—but faster than lightning, sharper than blades.
He blinked left. Blinked right. Switched styles every five seconds. Kicked, stabbed, dodged, blocked, summoned chains, shattered bones, split skulls.
Each kill felt more personal.
The last one howled before death. It wasn’t rage.
It was fear.
He looked down at his reflection in the ice.
Didn’t recognize the face.
But kept walking.
Floor 19
A forest.
Dead silent.
Nothing attacked him for ten minutes.
He didn’t lower his guard.
Then he blinked—and sothing ripped into his chest.
He blinked again—nothing there.
Invisibility?
No.
Intangibility.
Lucifer coated his blood with null-runes. Made them burn like cursed light. Spread it across the trees. The next ti the thing ca, it scread.
He grabbed it mid-phase—its limbs still flickering between worlds.
He didn’t speak.
Just squeezed.
Then pulled.
It died the slow way.
Floor 20
Final floor.
Not the top of the tower.
But the end of today’s climb.
The room was circular.
Wide. Empty. Lit by an artificial crimson sun overhead.
No beast.
No opponent.
Just a pillar in the center—with a floating glyph.
Lucifer stepped forward.
The glyph burned into his chest.
[Daily Climb Limit Reached]
[Tower Floors Cleared: 10 / 10]
[Next Reset: 23 Hours, 59 Minutes]
The door behind him opened again.
To the resting floor.
Lucifer sighed. Wiped blood from his eyes.
"...Fine."
He stepped through.
And finally...
sat down.
Tower Rest Chamber
The resting floor wasn’t much.
A quiet room. A black couch. A wall of blood-soaked glass looking out into a void.
He laid back.
Kicked off his boots.
Closed his eyes.
Let the silence sit for a while.
Then finally said—
"Status."
The system responded.
It didn’t speak.
Just displayed.
[STATUS]
Na: Lucifer Origin
Race: Ascended Vampire Progenitor
(Blood Sovereign – Lust Incarnate)
Evolution Stage: Transcendent Class
Authority: World Vein Recognized – Level 1 Access
Titles:
– King of the Crimson Night
– First Lustborn
– Shadow Sovereign
– Sovereign of the Red Eclipse
– Blood of the Beginning
He stared for a while.
Then muttered, "Still stuck."
He couldn’t level up like normal people.
No system experience. No stat points. No clear rank progression.
Only one thing mattered now:
The Core.
He sat up, summoned a projection.
Inside his chest—deep, behind his ribs—sothing pulsed.
Dark red.
Alive.
The Blood Core.
[CORE ANALYSIS]
Type: Primordial Blood Core
Current State: Max Transcendent Saturation
Evolution Condition: Pending Threshold Break
Progress: 99.9%
Lucifer squinted.
"...So close."
He clenched his fist.
His Blood Core wasn’t just a power source. It was a realm in itself now. A living furnace. It didn’t store blood. It beca it.
Generated it. Recycled it. Fed on pain, mory, lust, rage.
Every strike. Every scar. Every floor—had pushed it forward.
And now, the limit was right in front of him.
He stood again.
Faced the glass wall.
The void behind it looked endless.
Not stars.
Not space.
Just possibility.
He held up his hand.
Blood wrapped around his wrist like a vine.
He could feel it.
One more spark.
One more breakthrough...
And the Core would shift.
Not into sothing bigger.
But into sothing older.
Sothing truer.
His blood wasn’t just his anymore.
It belonged to the realm.
To the forgotten.
To the first.
He whispered, "Requesting Threshold Break."
The system paused.
Then pulsed back.
[Request Registered]
[Threshold Break Locked Until Core Overload Initiated]
[Estimated Requirent: World-Soul Impact or Equivalent]
Lucifer raised a brow.
"...Figures."
A world-soul.
That ant he had to shake a realm. Burn a landmass. Crush a gate. Shatter sothing that mattered.
He exhaled through his nose.
"Can’t do that in here."
He turned from the glass.
Walked back toward the couch.
Let his blood settle.
His aura dimd.
The tower didn’t react.
Everything was still.
Twenty floors cleared.
Each one worse than the last.
He cracked his neck.
"...Guess I wait."
But even as he sat, his Core pulsed again.
Hungry.
Still growing.
Still watching.
Like it had its own thoughts.
Lucifer leaned back, stared at the void.
Whispered, "Tomorrow, then."
His body relaxed.
But his blood never slept.
Not anymore.
A/N
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