Viole stood before the entrance to the second floor, his heart still pounding from the emotional trial he had just overcome. The Guardian's words echoed in his mind as he stepped through the massive stone archway that led to the next challenge. His resolve had been strengthened, but he knew that the Tower was relentless. Each floor would push him to his limits, and he couldn’t afford to let his guard down—not even for a moment.
The path ahead was dimly lit, the only light coming from flickering torches mounted on the walls. The air was thick and humid, carrying a sense of foreboding that made Viole instinctively tighten his grip on his sword. He moved forward cautiously, his senses heightened, ready for anything that might come his way.
The corridor eventually opened into a vast, circular chamber, its walls lined with ancient, crumbling statues that seemed to watch Viole’s every move. In the center of the room stood a massive stone door, engraved with intricate symbols that pulsed faintly with a golden light. Viole approached the door, his eyes narrowing as he studied the symbols. They were unfamiliar to him, but they seemed to radiate an energy that felt… alive.
Before he could examine the door further, the ground beneath him trembled, and a deep, rumbling voice filled the chamber.
"Viole Grace, you who have passed the first trial and faced the pain of your past, welcome to the Trial of Stamina."
Viole’s eyes snapped up to the source of the voice, finding a figure slowly materializing before him—a towering being of stone, its body covered in moss and cracks, as if it had been carved from the very walls of the Tower itself. Its eyes glowed with an eerie, pale light, and in its hands, it held a massive stone hammer, the size of which would have easily dwarfed a lesser man.
“I am Garon,” the stone figure rumbled, “Guardian of the second floor. To continue your ascent, you must endure this trial—a test of your physical and mental endurance. Only those with unyielding stamina can hope to reach the summit.”
Viole drew his sword, readying himself for whatever challenge Garon had in store. “I’m not here to fail, Garon. I’ll face whatever you throw at me and push through it.”
Garon’s stone lips curled into what might have been a smile. “We shall see, mortal. The trial begins now.”
With a deafening crash, the ground beneath Viole split apart, revealing a gaping chasm that encircled the entire chamber. From the darkness below, something began to rise—massive stone pillars, each covered in sharp, jagged spikes. They arranged themselves in a complex, shifting pattern, creating a deadly obstacle course that filled the room.
Viole’s eyes widened as he took in the sight. The pillars moved in seemingly random patterns, slamming into one another with bone-crushing force before retracting into the floor, only to reappear seconds later in different positions. The gaps between them were narrow, and the spikes were long enough to pierce through flesh and bone with ease.
“This is your trial,” Garon’s voice boomed, echoing off the walls. “You must cross this chamber without being crushed or impaled. The pillars will not stop, and the path ahead will grow increasingly treacherous. But that is not all—you must also keep moving. If you stop for too long, the floor beneath you will crumble, sending you into the abyss.”
Viole felt his heartbeat quicken. This wasn’t just a test of stamina—it was a gauntlet designed to push him to his absolute physical limits. But he couldn’t afford to hesitate. With a deep breath, he sprinted forward, his eyes scanning the shifting pillars for any pattern, any safe path he could take.
The first few pillars were close together, forcing Viole to duck and weave through narrow spaces, his reflexes sharp as he dodged the deadly spikes. He could feel the ground vibrating beneath him, signaling the imminent collapse if he lingered for too long. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest as he pushed himself faster, barely avoiding a pillar that slammed down inches from his back.
“Good,” Garon’s voice echoed, his tone unreadable. “But this is only the beginning.”
The pillars began to move faster, their patterns more erratic. Viole found himself leaping from one narrow platform to the next, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The spikes grazed his skin more than once, drawing thin lines of blood, but he didn’t let it slow him down. His eyes were locked on the far end of the chamber, where he could see the faint outline of another door.
Time seemed to blur as Viole pressed on, his legs burning with exhaustion. The pillars were relentless, leaving him no room for error. Every step was a gamble, every leap a test of his precision and timing. But Viole’s will was unbreakable. He had faced worse than this—he had faced death and come back stronger. This trial would not stop him.
But just as he began to close the distance to the exit, the ground beneath him shook violently, and a new wave of pillars erupted from the floor, their movements impossibly fast. Viole’s heart sank as he realized there was no clear path—no way to avoid the deadly obstacles.
He was trapped.
"Is this it?" Viole muttered to himself, his breath heavy. "No... I refuse to give up."
In that moment of desperation, a memory flashed in Viole’s mind—the feeling of betrayal on the 99th floor, the pain of being struck down by those he had trusted. He had been outnumbered, his strength failing him as he fell to his knees. But he had survived. He had pulled himself back from the brink of death and returned stronger than ever.
And now, as the pillars closed in around him, Viole felt that same surge of determination. His eyes blazed with an intense violet light, his body moving on pure instinct as he activated one of his hidden techniques—**Shadow Step**.
In an instant, Viole’s form blurred, becoming a shadowy silhouette as he slipped through the gaps between the pillars with inhuman speed. The spikes sliced through the air where he had been moments before, but he was already several steps ahead, his body moving faster than his mind could process.
Garon’s voice rumbled with approval. “You are resourceful, Viole Grace. But how long can you maintain such a pace?”
Viole didn’t answer. His focus was absolute, every fiber of his being dedicated to pushing through the gauntlet. He knew he couldn’t keep this up for long—**Shadow Step** drained his energy rapidly, and the pillars were showing no signs of slowing down. But he was close, so close to the end. He could see the door now, its outline growing clearer with every step.
With one final burst of speed, Viole surged forward, his body slipping past the last set of pillars as they slammed down behind him. He stumbled as he reached the door, his breath ragged and his vision swimming with exhaustion. But he was alive. He had made it.
For a moment, the chamber was silent, the only sound Viole’s labored breathing. Then, Garon’s voice filled the room once more.
“You have passed the Trial of Stamina,” the Guardian said, his tone carrying a note of respect. “Few have the endurance to survive this trial, and fewer still possess the will to push through when all seems lost. You have proven that you are among the strongest.”
Viole nodded, his body trembling with fatigue but his resolve unbroken. “This Tower will have to do better than that if it wants to stop me.”
Garon’s stone form began to dissolve, crumbling away like sand in the wind. “The path to the next floor is open to you, Viole Grace. But remember—each trial is designed to test a different aspect of your strength. You may have passed this one, but the next will challenge you in ways you cannot yet imagine.”
As Garon’s form faded away completely, the stone door before Viole creaked open, revealing a narrow staircase that spiraled upward into the darkness. Viole sheathed his sword, taking a moment to steady his breath before stepping forward.
The climb was only getting harder, but Viole welcomed the challenge. Every trial he overcame brought him one step closer to the summit, one step closer to his wish. The Tower would continue to test him, push him to his limits, but he would not falter. He couldn’t afford to.
As he began his ascent to the third floor, Viole’s thoughts turned to what lay ahead. The Tower was unpredictable, its trials designed to exploit any weakness, any doubt. But Viole had faced the pain of betrayal and the limits of his physical endurance. He had emerged stronger, more determined.
Whatever came next, he would be ready.
The darkness of the staircase enveloped him as he climbed higher, leaving the Trial of Stamina behind. But in his heart, Viole knew that the hardest challenges were yet to come. The Tower would not give up its secrets easily, and neither would he.