Return of the Woodcutter

On the 2nd Floor, floating far above the center of the Mall, Maba studied challengers from his vantage point, taking behavioral notes on their actions. 

As a mage, he was proud to have been chosen for the moderator's job. As a person, he was beyond grateful for being able to study challengers up close during their upbringing period before they all had to enter Iris. 

Life was easy in the Tower. There was no war, no famine, no Fearmonger. He could eat food from level 4 chefs for TPS he generated himself thanks to moderator rights, meaning it cost nothing. He had access to luxurious quarters he used to rest. 

Maba truly found it weird how moderators such as Gwen never really went to their quarters that were as luxurious as the black challenger's room. Whatever their reasons were, he found them foolish.

He felt truly blessed nowadays. Especially when there were so many specimens to study at his feet. Aside from being a decent telekinesist, Maba was well known for his hobby that turned out to be the reason he was acknowledged. 

The study of skills. 

There were many unknowns concerning skills, even for powerful figures such as the 4 Shields. Maba made his life's goal to discover everything there was to know on the topic. Using this knowledge, he wanted to recreate a braver class's skills. 

To his knowledge, all bravers were fake ones. They only boasted the skills of a braver thanks to memory beads passed down from generation to generation. Each generation would register their braver skills in memory beads for the next one. 

It worked great until now. However, Maba knew there was a problem with this system. Everybody knew but chose to remain oblivious to it because it was simpler to do so. 

Braver skills have changed from the originals depicted in the records. They had weakened. And there was nothing no one could do about it. 

Although it worked great until now, Maba knew this method would eventually lead to humanity's doom someday when copies of braver skills would no longer work on the Fear. 

Problem was, the god of bravery has been dead for ages. No more braver could be created by using divine intervention. 

He understood it well. That's why he wanted to recreate not the class but the authentic skills by studying the many skills there were in Iris. 

Of course, a lot of people previously had his idea, but none had succeeded until now.

His researches had already bared fruit, leading to the creation of a new skill he named Calming Aura. It had no real destructive effect, however, it resembled the Aura of Bravery, the real one. Calming Aura, like its name suggested, could calm someone, inspire trust, and courage to a certain extent. Two features the copy of Aura of Bravery currently lacked. 

Maba's fame increased thanks to that. More and more people had taken notice of him. Problem was, nobody really knew how he actually studied skills. If they all knew, he wasn't so sure he would be praised for it. 

He would probably be stripped of his class and condemned to work in the mines like all criminals. 

But no cost was great enough to save Iris. The moderator was convinced of that to the point he was ready to bend his own rules and alienate himself.

Maba gazed upon challengers, looming the streets, eating their lunch, or drinking themselves to death. He had noticed a decrease in junkies getting drunk on the fog. A normal consequence taking into account they were nearing the end of their time in the Tower. 

Almost every drug addict has died from hunger by now. Unmarked ones numbered a few, all almost dead. As planned, only the strongest people remained. 

According to what Maba has heard, more than half of the surviving challengers had reached the 5th floor and about a hundred had entered the 6th floor. 

Not a bad outcome, but it could be better. The previous batches had reached the 6th floor weeks earlier. While those guys only reached the 6th floor recently. 

There was also the case of the black challenger, Gwen's favorite. Maba had developed a dislike for that man who had not been punished for his crime thanks to one of the Rising Stars covering his ass. 

His ego was hurt. His pride was hurt. 

Maba had hoped those idiots from the sect would have dealt with him back then, but that asshole somehow got away with ease. 

What's worse was that he had heard stories of his accomplishments on the 4th and particularly on the 5th floor. There were so few witnesses to what had transpired on the 4th floor that it was hard to distinguish between truth and lies. 

However, a bit less than a hundred people had witnessed the black challenger's deeds on the 5th floor. The stories seemed exaggerated to Maba. Challengers said he alone had fought against more than a thousand hobs on his own. 

Even he, as a level 4 Telekinesist, would find that hard to do. He believed those were just stories, even more when someone mentioned the Lunar Eclipse. 

No one has ever survived that. No one. 

Unless a moderator told him the opposite, he would never believe mere challengers' gossip. It was impossible, just impossible, for the black challenger to have survived such an event if it had occurred. 

'He should be dead,' he thought. 'I should have seen him by now if he was alive. Unless—' 

"You look in deep thoughts, Maba," a voice said next to the moderator. 

Maba straightened like a frozen pole in Alaska during winter and cocked his head to the side. Nothing. No one. 

"Your detection abilities have grown weak. That much was expected. But I'm disappointed you can't even recognize my voice," the stranger said. 

"Behir? Is that you?" Maba asked, a drop of sweat forming on his forehead. "How can you be here?" 

Behir, the moderator of the 6th floor, was Maba's cousin. Like him, and pretty much every member of the Lamat family, he was a very strict man who abide by the rules. So it was extremely shocking for Maba to see his cousin on the 2nd floor when duty called him elsewhere. 

Moreover, Maba knew something wasn't quite right. His cousin was a powerful archer. If Behir was camouflaging to the point he couldn't see him, then it meant he wasn't on the 2nd floor on official business. Most importantly, it also meant no one apart from him knew he was here. 

If he so desire, Behir could remain undetected even from the likes of Gwen. 

"I'm in need of your expertise," Behir said, "there has been an unusual case on the 6th floor. Someone, a challenger, tempered with the Tower System." 

"Who was it?" Maba was curious but also slightly excited, maybe a bit scared. No one should be able to temper with the Tower System. 

Behir gave him a quick recap about what had happened. Maba's eyes progressively grew wider as his cousin narrated the story. 

"That criminal is alive?" Maba asked. "And he survived the Sacred Duels! How's that possible!?" His voice resonated in the surroundings. Down below, challengers looked up to identify the source of the noise. 

"Shut up, you fool. Don't attract attention. I can't be seen on this floor by other moderators. Particularly that half giantess," Behir said. "I may be able to escape her detection abilities, but that's only because she's not paying attention."

"Sorry…, it's just hard to believe he is still alive after challenges even I would have difficulty surviving," Maba said. 

"He is capable and promising. I'll give him that. However, he tempered with the system. Although it is not mentioned anywhere in the rules as to what to do in this situation, this is a clear infraction for obvious reasons," Behir said. "As I said, I need your expertise on the topic." 

"You think he used a skill? Don't you think it might be a System Right?" 

"Impossible. No god would grant a challenger such System Right. Not when us moderators are here to do their bidding," Behir paused, then resumed. "I'm no good when it comes to scientific research. So I need your expertise on this and quickly, before it's too late and he exits the Tower. We might never see him again since he would probably choose to side with Gwendolyn's faction." 

Maba smirked, "A skill capable of tempering with the Tower System..., interesting. Very interesting.. It could potentially advance my research by leaps and bounds. What do you need from me?" 

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