Return Of The Strongest Player

'What is this…' Arthur questioned internally as he walked across the streets of the Outer District. Despite having left the Twelfth Floor, the "Locket Of Divinity (Time)" was still attached to his body.

Even using [Ascertain] on it was possible.

[Name: Locket Of Divinity (Time)]

[Grade: Immeasurable (Broken)]

[Trait: Able to turn back time to the user's choice. The amount of time depends on the user's total mana and the condition of the artifact. Artifact is broken. The recovery process may vary depending on usage.]

An emerald light shone from his sternum, refusing to diminish despite not being on the Twelfth Floor. Arthur cocked his head, but a sense of elation arose in his chest. Could such a broken item be used anywhere in the tower?

If that were possible, wouldn't Arthur essentially be invincible?

Perhaps his goals would come running to him, then. Perhaps he wasn't too far away from achieving them, despite only being on the Thirteenth Floor? 

However, after thinking about it meticulously, Arthur shook his head. 'The tower would not destroy its balance. The recovery time will probably be monumental… It may take years for it to recover.'

'It did say the recovery time depends on usage…'

'So, if I decide to turn back time by only a couple of seconds, would I have to wait less time than if I were to turn back time by several minutes?'

'Yes, if that's the case, then perhaps it's not as overpowered as I expected.'

'But it still surpasses anything I've ever seen before.'

With light footsteps that displayed Arthur's satisfaction, he arrived at the Floor Tower, registering to enter the Thirteenth Floor. As he did, many Guardians and nearby players looked at him with hungry gazes.

Their eyes seemed to burn a hole in Arthur's body, yet he ignored them. With an apathetic gaze, he entered the Thirteenth Floor.

*

The Thirteenth Floor was what one could consider a "Battle Of Hell."

On the Thirteenth Floor, one was forced to–along with many other players–combat Devils from 100 Beast Marks to 500 Beast Marks, from around the prowess of a 10th-floor player to that of an Elite Ranker.

There five levels, which include a Devil of 100 Beast Marks, 200 Beast Marks, 300 Beast Marks, 400 Beast Marks, and 500 Beast Marks.

At least, those were the known levels.

Arthur planned on attempting the Sixth Level–the one no one had ever cleared, and the one he required to receive the Orion Token, the final Constellation Token he needed to progress to the temple.

As his dyed vision reverted to normal, his gaze fell upon the somewhat terrified faces of the other players. There were four players, excluding Arthur, that stood beside him, their eyes plastered upon a certain creature in the distance.

Arthur sensed the stinging heat, augmenting his body through the use of mana. As a dazzling light engulfed his figure, the eyes of the other players turned towards him. Their expressions contorted, revealing true fear.

"A–Arthur Solace?"

"On the Thirteenth Floor? Does that mean…"

A few of the players gulped, directing fearful glances at the crimson-eyed man. Every single one of them was already terrified by the creature standing a few miles away, but now they also had Arthur Solace on their team.

There wasn't a person in the tower unaware of Arthur's cruelty and ruthless personality.

To trust Arthur was akin to trusting a Devil.

The sheer comparison–of Arthur to a Devil–brought tears to the eyes of the players. Despite having sharpened their skills and steeled their resolves prior to attempting the Thirteenth Floor, who knew they would simply be fucked by fate?

It seemed not even the world wished for them to live, having teamed them up with the crimson-eyed man.

Suddenly, voracious flames condensed, swirling in a cylindrical shape. As they subsided, they revealed the silhouette of an unusual species–a Kobold. Kobolds were generally known as pseudo-dragons and worshipped dragons as their Gods.

As the shadow faded, the Kobold's true appearance was revealed.

It was a humanoid shape, with scales encompassing its body and a thick, long snout adorned with jewelry. It wore fabrics of a vibrant hue and held a wooden staff in one hand, and a book in the other.

'A Mage… I've never met this Guardian…'

Arthur narrowed his eyes, observing the Kobold with thin glasses. The latter possessed shiny, iridescent eyes that seemed to be focused on the open book as if it considered the players not worthy of its attention.

"Welcome, players," he spoke in a hoarse tone, coughing while mouthing the words he read in the rather ancient-looking book. "I am Eros, the Guardian that will be supervising you five in this Trial. I welcome you, Mr. Solace."

Arthur didn't enjoy the preferential treatment but nodded in acknowledgment. However, it was quite obvious that in the near future, his name would be revered across the lands, and he would receive a title.

Once he received a title, his name would enter the records of history, and his achievements would be known.

He would form a Legend.

Eros stepped forth, tapping the air with his staff. Suddenly, mana particles condensed, releasing a rather unpleasant noise while simultaneously crafting a holographic image of how the Trial would progress.

He explained the contents of the Trial, how each level would be conducted, and the prerequisites for passing.

One needed to at least reach Level 3 to complete the Trial.

Otherwise, the Devil would continue attacking without a hitch, disallowing any player to attempt to escape with their life. It was essentially a non-stop battle until one was exhausted, dead, or satisfied.

"What can we do to achieve first place in this Trial?" A dark-haired teenager suddenly inquired, raising his hand with an expression of determination. Arthur praised the youth in his heart for having such courage.

Such ambition.

If he didn't perish, perhaps the youth could achieve second place. Once a team reached a certain point, it all depended on contribution.

"One simply has to reach Level 6," Eros explained. "Or, stack up the most contribution anyone ever has in the history of the tower. Those two are the only methods to achieving first place on the leaderboards."

Silence.

"So, is everyone clear on how the Trial is supposed to progress?"

""Yes.""

The players responded simultaneously, after which Eros tapped the air with his staff yet again, producing a humming sound. The winds changed direction, and the scenery around the players changed in an instant.

Suddenly, a vast arena surrounded them, with a ground engulfed in grains of sand, and borders burning with inextinguishable, voracious, orange-red flames of Hell. Eros simply approached a nearby area, forging a throne using a spell before sitting down.

His eyes flashed with boredom as he spectated.

As one of the high-ranking Guardians of the Tower Administration, Eros was free to do whatever he pleased, as long as it did not violate or go against what the Administration strived to enforce. Eros was practically a free man, at that point.

Instead of returning to the headquarters, Eros decided to spectate the battle, since the renowned Arthur Solace was competing for first place. If he did manage to achieve it, a war would break out.

Although not as gruesome and grotesque as a war involving high-ranking clans, the war would still threaten the ecosystem of an entire floor.

The Residential Area of the Thirteenth Floor, to be precise.

'That area is already a wasteland… Who cares?'

Eros was entirely uncaring of the damages, unaffected by anything that would occur. As one of the original Guardians, he feared no one except the Transcendents and High Guardians. No one else, not even the Divine Rankers, could scare him.

He was practically an existence separated from the balance.

Casting a barrier on the outskirts of the arena, Eros released a sigh of boredom as he began spectating.

*

"Are we going to assign roles?" The dark-haired youth inquired, his gaze wary and his eyes narrowed to slits.

"First, let's exchange names to make coordination easier," A white-haired, old man suggested, his hands clasped behind his back. His face was full of wrinkles, while his old bones barely allowed him to move.

That was precisely the reason he decided to switch from being a warrior to a Mage.

"I'm Lisa," said a dark-haired woman.

"I'm Jimmy," said the dark-haired youth who'd spoken earlier.

"I'm Bob," said the old man.

"Sung Jin-Woo," said a dark-haired man with amethyst eyes and a shadowy presence.

"I'm Arthur Solace," said the crimson-eyed man, unsheathing Skofnung. The Demonic Blade transmitted mixed emotions to its wielder, revealing its satisfaction and dissatisfaction simultaneously.

Being a Demonic Blade, it was obvious that the sword would be comfortable within the depths of Hell.

However, surrounded by the Devils, its power was reduced to racial pressure.

The Blade trembled in Arthur's grip, releasing a Demonic Aura while revealing its intent to slaughter all the Devils present.

'I have the same intentions here…'

'Shall we begin, Skofnung?'