Return Of The Strongest Player

Once Ferhill gathered all the materials needed for the refinement, Arthur refined all the items in a single day. While the former began restocking rapidly, the latter simply relaxed in his room, refusing to train or do something productive.

'Seven days until I attempt the Second Floor,' thought Arthur. A few hours ago, he traveled to the center of the Outer District and inquired about the timings. It seemed that the next batch would be deployed in a week.

Unlike the First Floor, the Second Floor required a certain amount of players to participate and was akin to a game. It couldn't begin without a sufficient player count and usually consisted of 100 players.

Over a million players attempted the Second Floor each week, but only half or less were able to progress due to the floor's high fatality rate. It was one of the only lower floors where players could not leave at will.

No one knew why.

'I'll worry about that later,' thought Arthur, wiping Skofnung in order to clean it. Even Demonic Blades needed to be cleaned, and even artifacts were not immune to rust. Arthur took great care of Skofnung.

There was one thing that lingered in his mind, though.

During the battle against Feyright and Gabriel, the former had mentioned something about Arthur's inability to utilize Skofnung properly, and the fact that he was oblivious to what Demonic Blades truly were.

This had struck a nerve, causing Arthur to wonder about those words. However, he didn't know where and what to search for. No ordinary person was aware of what a Demonic Blade symbolized.

And why was he oblivious to it, when he'd spent several decades in the tower?

'As far as I remember, other than the sword's evil traits and the occasional manifestation of similar abilities, there was nothing spectacular about a Demonic Blade,' thought the crimson-eyed man, scrunching his eyebrows.

[The Demonic Blade 'Skofnung' metaphorically shakes its head at its wielder's sheer incompetence.]

Arthur lightly smacked the sword, causing it to shudder in response. 'Call me incompetent once again and I'll throw you in a landfill.'

[The Demonic Blade 'Skofnung' spits in indignation before apologizing.]

Arthur smiled, continuing to clean the sword. However, Feyright's words didn't fade away. They remained in his mind, circling around indefinitely while eating away at the crimson-eyed man's sanity.

Just like that, a week passed.

*

As the rays of dawn squeezed through the cracks of Arthur's window, his eyelids fluttered open, revealing his crimson pupils in all their majesty. Arthur blinked several times, achieving a clear vision on the fifth blink.

Then, pushing his bedsheets to the side, he exited the lavish bed on which he'd lazily spent an entire week. Of course, he wasn't entirely lazing around, since he was calmly meditating to smoothen his mana circuits.

And, he had also successfully achieved harmony between his mana and the Blessing of the Sun, allowing the two energies to coexist within him. That was his largest achievement since integrating with the Death Bones, both of which he was proud of.

Now that he possessed the capability to utilize both his mana and Blessing simultaneously, Arthur's combat prowess increased by a significant percentage once again. His growth was truly tremendous.

He could probably rival those on the fourth floor by now.

Although Gabriel and Feyright were powerful, they were merely husks who did not retain even a quarter of their former power. They were simple to dispose of, as they had essentially wasted their lives in the Residential Area of the First Floor, refusing to climb the tower any further.

However, someone in their prime would be difficult for Arthur to defeat.

The gap in power between a player on each floor was massive and was difficult to narrow as long as one did not climb floors.

After taking a shower, Arthur slipped into a loose, white-purple tunic and leather pants in which he could move without restrictions. On top of his attire, he slipped into dark robes to conceal his identity.

After doing so, he headed out with Skofnung strapped on his waist.

The Second Floor was calling.

*

He traversed through the streets for a few minutes, arriving at the place where one could challenge floors. After logging in, he was transported to a separate dimension, where over a million people could be seen hanging out.

'Truly an abundance of players,' thought the crimson-eyed man. Speaking would only result in his voice being drowned out by the chatter of over a million players while moving even an inch could result in him colliding with the stampede of people.

He remained still and silent, waiting for the batches to form.

A few minutes passed, and many of the players turned into particles of golden light. As the players disappeared rapidly, Arthur shut his eyes and soon experienced the unusual sensation of his body being deconstructed.

There was no pain, but he felt detached from reality.

'Spatial abilities are truly on another level,' Arthur mused, once the sensation had subsided. As he opened his eyes, light flooded into his pupils. Before him were 99 other players who all seemed confident.

He stood in a barren field, which was surrounded by lush, verdant greenery.

"This floor's going to be a breeze!"

"Yeah, I can already imagine myself emerging victorious!"

"I'm going to get a spa after conquering this floor! I can't wait!"

"What ranking do you think you will receive? I'm hoping to be the top million, but if not, top ten million is fine, too."

"You're too ambitious. Aim for the top billion!"

"Hell nah! I'm not that weak!"

"Some High Rankers placed in the top ten billion but were still able to climb to their position. It really doesn't matter."

"Yeah, but they had to undergo difficulties in the future. It isn't smooth sailing!"

The conversations continued for a few minutes while the players adjusted to the change in scenery. Finally, once the chatter had subsided, a pillar of light descended from the sky, revealing the Guardian in-charge of the floor.

"Welcome."