Eight distinct parties were assembled before the entrance in the pale grey morning, totaling over forty elite Climbers. It was the largest concentrated force Nathan had ever seen. At the vanguard stood Silver Drake, their formation a flawless wall of polished steel and armored constructs. Flanking them was Red Dragon’s strike team, the air above them shimmering with the ambient heat radiating from their sunmons. Golden Hawk held the rear, their summons perched silently on heavy leather gauntlets. Standing entirely apart, radiating a quiet, tightly coiled tension, was Goldcrest, led by Derek Stone. His Salamander was noticeably larger than Nathan remembered—its scales a deeper, bruised crimson, its internal fire burning white-hot.
In the dead center of the formation stood Celestial Peak.
Nathan held the front line, Moonlight resting comfortably in his grip. Mirko stood in her fully armored humanoid form at his right, her D-Rank sword already drawn. Kuro was a seamless shadow on his shoulder. Garrett leaned against Volcan, Red’s fleece already hardening into interlocking plates of crimson armor. Dillon stretched his legs, the ozone from his Storm Striders crackling against the dry earth while Cloudy spiraled lazily overhead. Elise anchored the center, Aurora’s Heart planted firmly before her, the towering Frost Golem standing sentinel at her back.
The Tower’s golden veins pulsed across its obsidian surface. The ancient heartbeat was deafening now—a relentless thrum-thrum-thrum that vibrated up through the volcanic soil and settled deep into Nathan’s teeth. The dragon-maw archway loomed above them, its portcullis of interlocking stone fangs gleaming. The threshold itself was a swirling vortex of gold and violent crimson.
Marshal Vane stood at the edge of the assembly, raising a heavily enchanted comm crystal to her lips. Her voice echoed sharply across the quiet ash plains.
"The breach begins now. All parties, advance. Give them nothing."
The combined force moved as a single organism.
Nathan stepped through the portal, and the Tower of Drak’thar swallowed them whole.
Floor 1 was a sprawling courtyard of ash and broken memories.
The portal deposited the army into a vast expanse of scorched black stone. Shattered statues of ancient dragons lined the perimeter, their massive stone wings lying in ruins across the flagstones, their carved eyes staring blindly into the void. The sky above was an artificial memory of Drak’thar’s final days—a violently churning canopy of red, streaked with veins of gold that pulsed in perfect synchronization with the Tower’s heartbeat. The air was bone-dry, suffocatingly hot, and tasted heavily of sulfur.
And advancing across the courtyard in perfect, disciplined phalanxes were the Lizardmen.
They were towering humanoid reptiles, their scales a mottled, battle-scarred grey-green. They wore heavy armor forged from bone and crude obsidian, wielding jagged polearms of volcanic glass. They did not break into a frenzied, mindless charge like lesser monsters; they marched in a coordinated, interlocking shield wall. They had been waiting for a war.
"Lock shields! Brace!" shouted Seraphine, the Silver Drake captain.
Her vanguard moved with terrifying efficiency, their armored constructs snapping together to form an impenetrable bulwark of steel and mana. The first wave of Lizardmen crashed against it with a deafening roar of shattering bone and grinding metal, but the line held.
"Red Dragon, break them!" bellowed Torren, raising his heavy battleaxe.
The Red Dragon pyromancers unleashed hell. Their Summons inhaled deeply and exhaled overlapping cones of blistering flame. Fire mages hurled dense, compressed bolts of kinetic heat overhead. The Lizardmen’s front ranks didn’t just break; they dissolved into ash, their obsidian armor glowing white-hot before shattering.
"Golden Hawk, ranged suppression! Celestial Peak, Goldcrest, secure the flanks! Do not let them encircle the vanguard!"
Nathan’s party moved on instinct. "Mirko, Golem—anchor the right! Garrett, Red—hold the centerline! Dillon, Cloudy—take the sky! Elise, artillery! Kuro, mark the commanders!"
"Hmph! Finally, a battlefield with some scale!" Mirko activated [Impenetrable Fortress] and slammed into the Lizardmen’s right flank. The emerald barrier scattered the first wave like bowling pins. Her blade cleanly bisected an obsidian shield, and [Aegis Strike] unleashed a kinetic shockwave that cleared a ten-foot radius. Beside her, the Frost Golem waded into the fray, its massive crystalline fists crushing bone and stone with dull, sickening impacts.
Dillon launched himself upward. The Lizardmen lacked aerial support on the ground floor—a fatal tactical gap. Cloudy’s static discharge arced ruthlessly through their back ranks, paralyzing dozens at once, while Dillon’s [Thunder Edge] fell from the sky like a guillotine, severing the paralyzed draconians before they could hit the ground. Garrett and Red were a meat grinder in the center, Volcan’s thermal pulses detonating inside the tight formations. Elise’s [Mana Bolts] found the densest clusters, the kinetic blasts fracturing limbs and cracking skulls.
Nathan provided overwatch. Thwip-Thwip-Thwip. Each [Mana Arrow] found a gap in the Lizardmen’s armor—an eye, a throat, an exposed joint. The Capacitor hummed steadily on his wrist. Vex’s compression charms were working flawlessly, tightening his mana output and making every draw feel unnaturally efficient.
Across the courtyard, on the left flank, Derek Stone’s Goldcrest party fought with a cold, controlled aggression. Derek’s Salamander waded into a dense pack of Lizardmen, unleashing a torrent of fire that instantly incinerated three of them. Derek moved behind it with quiet, lethal efficiency, his blade flashing in the red light, his commands sharp and perfectly timed.
Through the chaos, Derek caught Nathan’s eye across the battlefield. He gave a single, curt nod. It wasn’t a challenge. It was a professional acknowledgment.
The Lizardmen’s morale finally snapped. The survivors broke formation, fleeing desperately into the ruins. The courtyard fell quiet, save for the crackle of dying flames.
"First floor clear!" Seraphine called out, lowering her shield. "Status report!"
The leaders checked in. A few minor lacerations, a sprained wrist among Golden Hawk’s archers, and heavy mana expenditure for the pyromancers. No extractions. No fatalities. The combined force had utterly overwhelmed the defenders through sheer, synchronized violence.
"Regroup!" Seraphine ordered. "Push to Floor 2!"
Floor 2 was a suffocating labyrinth of volcanic tunnels, and the Wyverns were waiting.
The corridors were cramped and twisting, the walls formed of jagged obsidian that wept liquid gold. The ambient heat spiked drastically, and the rhythmic heartbeat of the Tower echoed loudly off the narrow walls. Forced into a bottleneck, the combined force splintered into smaller strike teams to navigate the massive nest.
Nathan’s party advanced alongside Silver Drake’s vanguard. The coordination was initially rough—different hand signals, different tactical cadences—but they quickly found a brutal rhythm.