Return of the Woodcutter

Standing watch by the staircase leading to the fourth floor, Gwen, a 2.20 meters tall woman with braided red hair tied in a ponytail, kept a lookout for the unmarked ones trying to access the hunting grounds. A few of them would try to sneak past her from time to time, blending in the crowd, thinking she wouldn't spot them. Pointless struggle.

At her level, the moderator of the third floor could easily distinguish the unmarked ones from the marked ones. After all, they were all level 0 humans, which inevitably made them stick like sore thumbs amongst level 1 challengers because of their lack of a complete soul core, leading to their soul power being unstable.

Although she understood their need to earn more TPs from the middle floors, she couldn't just let the undeserving pass. They would barely stand a chance against mere goblins. The oath pact didn't forbid her from letting them pass, only to fight when called upon, but what good would it do her to disobey the gods?

Plus, the unmarked ones would certainly end up dying a pointless death. Were a few hundreds TPs worth more than their lives? Certainly not, but it may be the case for the man trying to sneak past her right now.

Gwen sighed, stretched her toned arm to grab the cloak of the unmarked one, lifted him with ease, and brought him in front of her square face.

"What do you think you're doing, little man?" She asked, her purple eyes reflecting clear boredom.

"I, I, I…" He stuttered, losing his composure in front of the moderator.

Gwen sighed, then pointed at an unmarked woman running along the huge track field. "If you want to earn TPs, complete your daily training quest like she does every morning. Understood?"

"Y, y, yes!" He said, eyeing the giant war hammer settled on the moderator's shoulder instead of the unmarked woman. "P, p, please…"

He barely had the time to talk that Gwen put him down before she said, "I understand you need TPs, but you'll only lose your life up there."

"You understand nothing!" The man protested. Being in direct contact with the ground seemed to have given him the courage to complain. "I have to live in the streets every day because I can't afford a room anymore! I barely have enough TPs to feed myself with indigos and can't buy any equipment! This marked and unmarked nonsense of yours is bullshit! It's pure discrimination! There is no fairness in this!"

If they were living in a pink peaceful, wonderful world, the man would have been right. However, it was not the case. If the little man thought that was unfair, he had seen nothing, yet.

That kind of know-it-all attitude pissed her off. "This is unfair," "this shouldn't be like this, "this shouldn't be like that." In a month's time, she had heard the same worthless lines again and again. Just where did those humans think they were? On vacation, somewhere in one of Central's luxurious inn?

The Tower was a training camp and unfairness was part of the teachings they would come to learn. If they didn't, then they would die soon enough. Only the strong survived here and in Iris. Only the strong had the right to complain. Those unmarked ones who thought they knew what unfairness was, pissed her off. Even more since, in the first place, they were responsible for their current circumstances.

"You only have yourself to blame," she said, losing patience. "If you had accepted the gods' blessings, you wouldn't be in such a precarious situation."

"And be a slave for the rest of my new life? Never!" The unmarked one said.

She sighed. Tired of the man's complaints, Gwen flicked his temple, and he dropped to the ground, unconscious. Some challengers in the crowd turned towards the man. Not because of worry, but because it was a good spectacle to watch.

Gwen clicked her tongue, gestured for them to move on, grabbed the unmarked one's leg, dragged him to a nearby bench, and laid him on it before returning to the staircase entrance to stop yet another unmarked one.

***

Seated on the bench next to the unmarked one that has yet to awaken, Gwen sighed. The rush hour had finally passed and now she was bored to death.

During the first week, she had been the busiest moderator in the Tower. With thousands of challengers to monitor and teach, she barely had any time to rest. Fortunately, some moderators from the other floors had come down to help her, otherwise, it would have been more difficult to manage.

"This job is fucking boring," Gwen complained. Now that almost every challenger had more or less learned Durability, she hadn't much to do. Her current duty was to watch out for unmarked ones trying to ascend the Tower. Apart from that, she would train from time to time.

After a week or two, she had been desperate for any kind of entertainment and started to listen to the gossips of the few challengers that remained on the third floor to clear their optional daily training quest. And today's news was particularly interesting. Apparently, Sam, one of the most promising challengers of this year, had been found attached to the plaza's fountain, completely naked.

She chuckled at the thought of it, but also wondered who the heck could have done it. Not considering his talkativeness, Sam was a decent warrior, even more now since he had reached level 2 yesterday, which was commendable. After all, leveling up in one month's time was quite a feat in the Tower.

To Gwen's knowledge, there were two commonly acknowledged methods to level up. The first one was to kill living beings, extract their soul core, and absorb their content—which was the only method available in the Tower.

The second and most popular method was to ask for the help of the gods. In exchange for glory points, the gods would grant a level up. It was the most popular method for various reasons.

One of them being the time needed to absorb a soul core. During fights, there was no time for this. And once the fight ended, there was no guarantee they could extract the soul cores. Sometimes, someone else would have taken them. Other times, they had to retreat. Such situations occurred frequently on the battlefields.

Another reason—also stipulated in the oath pact—would be the soul tax, an iron rule dictated by the gods that said half of the soul cores obtained by one individual would be offered to them. The Tower was the only place where this rule didn't apply, though.

In her opinion, it was unfair because it slowed down one's growth by half. But that was how the world worked, and there was nothing she could do about it, at least openly.

She was currently trying to find another way to level up by researching the ways of the bearded giants, one of the species that were opposing the gods' rules but also, technically, her kin.

Although thanks to her human father, she hadn't inherited the characteristic beard feature, Gwen was still a halfling. She had thought that with her bloodline, she would perhaps find the secret to the bearded giants' strength, but Gwen had no success to this day.

"Humm. Urg."

The sound of the unmarked man awakening next to her pulled Gwen out of her thoughts. He turned towards her. She smirked. He ran away towards the second floor.

"Pussy," she said, watching his figure growing distant before he entered the staircase leading to a small neutral area between D1 and D2. Then, something, no, someone wearing a full plated armor ascending the stairs, caught her attention.

At first, she thought it might be Sam since he was one of the few who could afford that kind of equipment and she hadn't seen him today yet. However, the giant double-edged ax settled on the man's shoulder, as well as the presence of long black hair on his head quickly dissipated such thoughts.

'A new face?' She thought, wondering how that was possible. Gwen had committed to mind every challenger who wore full plated armors, but she had never seen him before today. She then thought back to yesterday's main gossip: the arrival of the black challenger.

'Maybe this week won't be so boring after all..' She thought, smiling at the idea of finally having something to do for the next seven days, perhaps more if she played her cards right.

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