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Ash Ascendant: Chapter 28
🕑 Added 2025-04-26 10:31:07 +0000 UTCHi all,
Here’s the second chapter for the week. This one gave me a massive headache.
Chapter 28
Ash eyed Paul warily. He still wasn’t convinced the man wouldn’t attack him if he got the chance.
"What is the top prize?" Ash asked. "The Keystone?"
"Who knows?” Paul replied. “But it must be something good if the Tower Association and Team Magma are both after it. They must know something we don’t."
"Team Magma may have already reached the seventh floor. They’re three hours ahead of us.”
"I doubt it's that easy." Paul's eyes narrowed. "If it were just about the strength of your cultivation and your Pokemon, the people outside would have reached a higher floor."
"You're saying the remaining trials will be different from the others?"
"It's a safe assumption."
"Must be something that takes up a lot of time," Ash mused. "Maybe a puzzle that tests your knowledge."
"Or it’s something that terrifies them into giving up.”
“That’s possible.”
“Time isn’t the biggest obstacle. There are ways around the time limit. I found an item on the third floor that gives me an extra three hours inside the Pillar."
"What's the item look like?"
"A small statue of a serpentine Pokemon. The same one carved onto the outside of the Pillar."
Ash nodded. He needed to find a statue. While he had made good time so far, he doubted it would be that easy going forward. “Thanks for the information."
Paul sneered. "I doubt it will help you. I don't expect to see you on the next floor."
Before Ash could respond, Paul disappeared through the doorway to the next trial. The sound of his footsteps faded quickly.
Ash shook his head. Paul was arrogant, but he couldn't deny that the information about the statue was invaluable. Assuming it was true. Paul might be lying to get him to waste time searching for it.
Ash frowned. If the statue was real, it presented a problem. He’d assumed he would never catch up to Team Magma before their time expired. He wanted to avoid a confrontation. But if they had gotten their hands on a statue, he might run into them.
He pushed himself off the wall, his muscles protesting every movement. No time to waste. He approached one of the doors and entered.
Another chamber awaited him, its dimensions identical to the previous trial rooms. A familiar stone plinth stood at its centre. Ash approached it and read the inscription carved into its surface.
Opportunity and danger go hand in hand. In one minute, this chamber will fill with a copious amount of chaotic energy. You must quickly adapt and filter out the negative elements before the damage to your cultivation becomes irreversible. If you succeed, the energy is enough to improve your cultivation by at least one realm. You may abandon this trial by returning through the door, but you will forfeit your chance to continue.
"I can see why people failed on this floor," Ash murmured. "Paul was on the money. Most were probably too intimidated to continue."
Ash dropped to a sitting position and crossed his legs. His back straightened automatically as he closed his eyes, slipping into the meditative state he'd practised countless times. He'd already experienced the corrosiveness of Floor Zero's energy. Filtering it wouldn't be easy. If it got too hard, he would escape through the door.
The air changed. An oppressive weight settled over him, pressing down from all directions. The chamber filled with chaotic energy, invisible but unmistakable.
Ash established his energy framework—the pathways he'd built through months of cultivation. He opened them cautiously, allowing the smallest trickle of ambient energy to enter his system.
It burned like acid. His meridians spasmed as the foreign energy tore through them, corroding everything it touched. Ash clenched his teeth, fighting the instinct to slam his pathways shut.
He visualised his Steelium Core as a sieve, adjusting its configuration to catch the harmful aspects of the energy while allowing the pure cultivation energy to pass through. The first attempts failed miserably. The energy slipped through unchanged, continuing its assault on his system.
Time stretched. Sweat poured down his face, dripping onto the stone floor. His lungs burned as if he were drowning in fire. Every heartbeat pounded in his skull like a hammer blow.
Dark thoughts invaded his mind.
You're going to fail. You'll turn into a monster. Doomed to wander Floor Zero forever.
Ash gritted his teeth. That wasn’t going to happen.
Your mother will never know what happened to you. She'll wait for your return, growing more desperate with each passing day. Eventually, she'll try to find you herself. She'll die down here, alone and afraid.
"Shut up," Ash growled.
You were never strong enough. All your training, all your cultivation—wasted. You should have stayed on the first floor, where you belonged.
The voice in his head twisted, taking on Mustard's raspy tones.
Told you not to be hasty, didn't I? You never listen. Always rushing ahead, thinking you know better.
Then James's mocking lilt.
Poor little Ash, so desperate to climb the Tower, and now look at you. Don’t worry, I will take good care of your mother.
Ash's concentration faltered. The chaotic energy poured in faster, overwhelming his defences. His core temperature spiked. Blood trickled from his nose. The pain intensified until he could barely think.
Desperate, he turned to his Steelium Core. It hummed within him, his constant companion since that day in the ruins. He changed tactics, focusing on the metal itself rather than the energy flowing through it.
The Steelium responded. It began to spin rapidly, creating vortices that pulled in the chaotic energy. Instead of filtering it conventionally, the metal absorbed the harmful elements, neutralising them through contact with its structure.
Relief washed over him as the agony receded. Ash pushed harder, cycling the energy through his core faster and faster. His heartbeat steadied. His breathing deepened.
The Steelium Core wasn't just filtering the energy—it was transforming it, altering its fundamental nature to match Ash's signature. What had been corrosive became nourishing. What had threatened to destroy him now strengthened him.
Energy coursed through his meridians, filling his reserves to bursting. When they could hold no more, the energy began to compress, growing denser and more refined. The boundaries of the Tempering Realm's sixth stage strained against this sudden influx of power.
The barrier shattered. Energy exploded outward, restructuring his pathways and expanding his capacity. The seventh stage came and went in a blur of light and sensation. When the transformation finally stabilised, Ash found himself at the eighth stage of the Tempering Realm.
Ash opened his eyes. The chamber had returned to normal, the chaotic energy gone as if it had never existed. A door materialised in the wall opposite him.
His hands trembled as he examined them. Liquid metal flowed effortlessly from his pores, covering his fingers, his palm, then his entire arm. He experimented further, extending the coverage. The Steelium spread across his chest, his back, legs, until almost his entire body was completely covered.
Only one step away. The ninth stage would give him full coverage.
Still dazed from the breakthrough, Ash staggered to his feet and approached the doorway. He stepped through and was teleported to a new location.
He blinked, disoriented by the sudden change. As his vision cleared, recognition dawned. He stood on the bridge of a spaceship—pristine and operational, unlike the rusted hulk he'd explored earlier. Control panels glowed with active displays. The viewscreen showed a star field so realistic he could almost believe they were in space.
"This is a fortunate coincidence," Ash muttered.
He circled the bridge, checking the captain's chair and nearby consoles, but found nothing useful. The room appeared to be a perfect recreation of the derelict ship's command centre, down to the smallest detail—except everything worked.
Ash hurried out, intent on exploring the rest of the vessel. He had an advantage here, having already familiarised himself with the layout during his exploration of the real ship. The corridors branched exactly as he remembered, leading to familiar rooms and compartments.
As he searched, he checked every storage space and hidden compartment, hunting for the serpentine statue Paul had mentioned. Along the way, he discovered several vials of unfamiliar potions. He stored them in his mind palace, making a mental note to have Erika identify them later.
Twenty minutes into his exploration, Ash entered a room that made him pause. It mirrored the room where he, Erika, and Zinnia had slept in the real ship. A familiar shape caught his eye—a small statue sitting on a shelf that had been empty in the actual vessel.
"The Pillar has a strange sense of humour," Ash muttered, approaching the object.
The statue depicted a serpentine Pokemon coiled around itself, its features carved with remarkable precision. As Ash's fingers closed around it, the statue disappeared. A voice announced in his head that he had gained an additional three hours.
Ash headed for the ship's entrance, confident that the stairs to the next floor would be in the same location as the main exit in the real vessel. His guess proved correct—a spiral staircase stood exactly where expected.
He summoned the Giru robots from his mind palace.
"Scout ahead," Ash commanded, as he began climbing.
The Giru robots flew up the stairs, activating their cloaking ability. He switched to Giru One’s point of view to get a glimpse at the entrance. When he was halfway up the stairs, he paused as the feed from the robot showed a tense scene. His caution had paid off.
Six people stood in the chamber beyond—Zinnia faced off against three Team Magma members in their distinctive red uniforms. Two Tower Association representatives in grey stood to the side, observing the confrontation without intervening.
The Team Magma members had cornered Zinnia against a wall, blocking her path to the trial doors. Her expression was defiant, but she was clearly outnumbered.
"Bunch of assholes," Ash muttered, watching the Tower Association members' deliberate inaction. They seemed content to let Team Magma bully Zinnia.
Ash recalled the robots and placed them in his mind palace. No sense risking their detection. He summoned his steel board and several steel knives he'd shaped from the same material.
He cast Thunder Wave to electrify them, before hopping onto the board. Ash took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. So much for getting a break before the next trial.
He shot up the stairs, bursting into the chamber with the knives already flying toward the Team Magma members. They scattered, diving away from the electrified projectiles. The distraction gave him just enough time to swoop alongside Zinnia.
"Get on!" he shouted.
Zinnia leapt onto the board behind him without hesitation, her arms wrapping around his waist. Ash banked sharply, accelerating toward the nearest trial door as shouts erupted behind them. They crossed the threshold together, the doorway swallowing them whole.
Suddenly, the weight at his back vanished. Ash whirled around to find himself alone in the chamber.
"Zinnia?"
No answer. After a moment's thought, it made sense—they couldn't take the test simultaneously. She must have been teleported to another chamber.
Shrugging, Ash approached the central plinth. The inscription read:
One cannot make progress in life with cultivation alone. You need to be well-rounded and develop auxiliary skills. This trial will test your mechanical abilities. Finish the task before the time limit runs out to progress to the final floor. Time passes three times slower in this trial than inside the Pillar.
Before Ash could fully process these words, his surroundings blurred and shifted. The stone chamber dissolved, replaced by a futuristic engine room. Metal walls surrounded him, lined with blinking panels and complex machinery. Pipes and conduits snaked across the ceiling, disappearing into the massive engine that dominated the centre of the room.
A man approached him—older, with close-cropped grey hair and the rigid posture of someone accustomed to command. His uniform bore an insignia Ash didn't recognise, and a name badge that read "Captain Doyle."
"Well, rookie," Doyle barked, his voice sharp with urgency. "The shit has hit the fan. The engine's been damaged, leaving us sitting ducks. The rest of the mechanical team is dead, so it's up to you. You have twelve hours to repair the engine before the enemy reaches our position."
"What the—"
"No time for questions." Doyle grabbed Ash's shoulder, steering him toward a worktable cluttered with schematics. Ash glanced at one of the technical drawings and immediately felt lost among the complex diagrams.
"All the materials you need are in the supplies room," Doyle continued. "I wish I could give you some help, but we're currently operating on a skeleton crew."
Before Ash could respond, Doyle vanished, leaving him alone with the silent engine.
"How the hell am I supposed to fix an engine in twelve hours?" Ash muttered, examining the schematics more closely.
It didn't take long to figure out where he was—a spaceship, likely the same one from the previous floor, but in a different scenario. The engine before him was completely inert, with a significant portion blackened and warped from what appeared to be fire damage. The machinery was massive and hopelessly complex.
Ash tugged at the schematics, spreading them across the table. His eyes glazed over at the intricate diagrams—pressure systems, coolant loops, power distribution networks. Even with his mechanical background, this technology was far beyond anything he'd encountered.
Pain throbbed through his body, aftershocks from absorbing the chaotic energy during the previous trial. He slumped into a nearby chair, allowing himself a moment to rest while considering his options.
An idea struck him suddenly. He did have someone who could help.
Ash reached into his mind palace and retrieved Tinkatink's pokeball. His advancement to the eighth stage of the Tempering Realm meant he could bond with another Pokemon. He didn't know if the trial allowed such things, but it was worth trying.
He rolled the pokeball between his palms. Closing his eyes, Ash extended tendrils of energy from his core, seeking the Pokemon's essence.
Unlike his previous bondings, this one felt different. The Tinkatink's consciousness wasn't defensive or aggressive—instead, it seemed curious, almost eager to connect. As the bond began to form, Ash caught glimpses of the Pokemon's experiences—the joy of finding discarded metal parts, the satisfaction of reshaping them into tools, the pride in creation.
Ash projected his similar experiences—the thrill of taking broken machines apart, the challenge of diagnosing problems, the triumph of restoration. The connection solidified with surprising ease, bringing a rush of information about his new companion.
The Tinkatink was a male at level 14, His techniques included Fairy Wind, Astonish, and Metal Claw. He also had a status technique for Ash to learn—Baby Doll Eyes. It was a mental attack that could lower an opponent's guard. Ash could never imagine himself using such a technique. It would look weird.
His parameters showed exceptional Attack, Speed and Special Defence, though the rest were below average.
Most intriguingly, he possessed a unique special ability called Metal Resonance. It allowed Tinkatink to perceive metal within its environment through vibrational sensitivity. Despite lacking sight, he could detect the presence, composition, and structure of any metallic object by sending out subtle vibrations and interpreting their echoes when they bounce off metal surfaces.
Ash summoned the Tinkatink from his mind palace. The tiny Pokemon materialised on the workbench, his hammer perched over his shoulder. Despite his blindness, he began exploring his surroundings as if he still had sight.
"Hey," Ash said. "I'm going to need your help to fix this thing. You're used to tinkering with ships. Is there any chance you've come across one of these engines before?"
The Tinkatink turned toward his voice, then gave a decisive nod.
"Great. I'll be in your capable hands. Before we get started, let's give you a name."
The Pokemon ignored him, bending to pick up a piece of scrap metal from the floor. He bent it between his tiny hands before throwing it away.
Ash snapped his fingers. "I'm going to call you Bender."
The newly-named Bender paused, tilting his head as if considering the name. After a moment, he nodded again, apparently satisfied.
Ash approached the damaged engine. "Right, then. What do we need to do first?"
Bender hopped onto the engine. He tapped various parts with his hammer, listening to the resonance with each strike. The sounds seemed to tell him something—after a minute of investigation, he began pointing decisively at specific components.
Following his directions, Ash retrieved tools from the supply room. The space was well-stocked with everything from basic wrenches to specialised equipment he'd never seen before. Bender guided his selection with surprising expertise.
They established a rhythm quickly. Bender would identify damaged sections, then demonstrate the repair technique using small pieces of scrap. Ash would reproduce the work on a larger scale.
Hours passed as they methodically replaced melted conduits and realigned warped support structures. Bender worked tirelessly, sometimes disappearing completely inside access panels to reach components Ash couldn't access.
The damage was extensive but surprisingly consistent, focused primarily on the coolant system and power distribution network. As they worked, Ash began to understand the engine's principles. It wasn't entirely alien; certain fundamentals of engineering remained constant, even in technology far more advanced than what he was familiar with.
Six hours in, they hit a major obstacle. A critical power junction had been destroyed, and the replacement parts weren't quite right.
Ash sat back, wiping sweat from his forehead. "We need to fabricate something custom. Any ideas?"
The tiny Pokemon considered the problem, then hopped down to the floor. He scurried across to a panel Ash hadn't noticed before, gesturing excitedly. When Ash pried it open, he discovered a small fabrication unit—essentially a miniature forge and precision tool setup.
Bender immediately took charge, arranging metal stock and programming the device through a series of precise taps. The machine hummed to life, its interior glowing as it began shaping the replacement part.
"Bloody brilliant," Ash murmured, watching the fabrication process with fascination.
With the custom part installed, they moved on to the final phase—restoring power to the engine subsystems. This required careful sequencing. One wrong connection could fry the circuits they'd spent hours repairing.
Bender directed Ash through the process with unwavering confidence. When the final connection was made, the engine hummed tentatively. Lights flickered across control panels, systems coming online one by one.
"It's working!" Ash exclaimed as the engine's core began to glow.
The moment of triumph was interrupted by Captain Doyle's sudden reappearance.
"Well done, mechanic," he said, checking readings on a nearby console. "You've saved the ship with four hours to spare."
The engine room dissolved around them, the illusion falling away to reveal the stone chamber once more. A new doorway had appeared.
"We make a good team,” Ash said, returning Bender to his mind palace.
If he calculated the time correctly, he still had just under two hours remaining. He needed to navigate through the sixth floor and climb to the seventh floor for the final trial. Unless he found another statue, it would be a difficult task.
He stepped through the doorway and was teleported to another location.
Ash stumbled as the world shifted around him again. When his vision cleared, he found himself dressed in an unfamiliar uniform—crisp, military-style with insignia he didn't recognise. A dozen similarly dressed soldiers stood alongside him, their faces tense with anticipation. They all faced a massive airlock door, the entrance to what appeared to be the spaceship from the previous trial.
"What the hell is going on?" Ash muttered, disoriented by the sudden transition.
The soldier beside him—a burly man with a close-cropped haircut—turned with an incredulous expression. "Are you kidding me, Red? We've been briefed on the mission already. We're attacking one of the remaining Earthlings’ secret bases. Soon this war will be over, and we can finally enjoy our new home."
Ash glanced down at his chest, noticing a badge with "Red Ketchum" emblazoned across it. His last name. A chill ran through him. This couldn't be a coincidence, but surely he couldn't be related to this person?
His jaw dropped as the implications hit him. In this simulation, he was being portrayed as one of the soldiers who invaded Earth. Was this what the Pillar was trying to show him? Was this simulation universal, or was he the only one experiencing it? From what he could tell, the scenario seemed tailored to his own experiences.
Before he could contemplate further, the captain strode into the airlock chamber. It was the same man from the engine room trial—Captain Doyle—his face now hardened with grim determination.
"Listen up," Doyle barked. "Intelligence reports confirm this facility is developing a secret weapon—a Pokemon of immense power. Our mission is to locate and destroy it, along with the facility. I want no survivors. Don't hold back. Kill everyone you see."
The captain's words all but confirmed Ash's suspicions—this was the same underground facility he'd discovered. As the airlock door hissed open, he followed the soldiers on autopilot, his mind reeling from the implications.
The first explosion jolted Ash back to awareness. Soldiers around him summoned their Pokemon, directing them toward a nearby building where smoke billowed from a gaping hole in the wall.
Ash followed, his thoughts churning. Though finding the stairs to the next floor remained his priority, he recognised an opportunity. This simulation might reveal information about the facility in its prime—details that could prove invaluable.
He knew time was limited. The memory from the mask had shown that catastrophe would strike soon—the moment when the world ended and everything was recombined into the Tower. He needed to work quickly.
Stepping through the smoking breach, Ash ran down a corridor filled with flashing emergency lights. Though he could sense his Pokemon in his mind palace, he left them there. Instead, he summoned his steel board and took to the air, flying low through the hallways.
Chaos erupted around him. The invaders' Pokemon clashed with the Earthlings' defenders, energy attacks scorching walls and shattering equipment. Despite the destruction, Ash quickly oriented himself. Though the Tower's formation had relocated the facility, its basic structure remained recognisable. He navigated by memory, heading toward where the museum should be.
He wanted—needed—to learn more about this secret weapon.
A stray Hyper Beam nearly knocked him off his board, the energy blast singeing his uniform as he swerved. Recovering his balance, Ash accelerated down the corridor, dodging fleeing scientists and pursuing soldiers alike.
When he reached the museum's entrance, he burst through without slowing. Immediately, a wall of resistance met him—over a dozen Pokemon formed a defensive line, their trainers shouting commands from behind makeshift barricades.
Behind them, Ash spotted the familiar tomb, identical to the one he'd seen in the facility. But unlike its future counterpart, this one stood open, its massive door slowly sliding shut across the floor. In the shadows beyond, something massive waited.
Without hesitation, Ash leaned forward on his board, accelerating to maximum speed. Attacks converged on his position—Flamethrowers, Ice Beams, and Thunder Shocks crisscrossing the air around him. He weaved through the barrage, narrowly avoiding a Psychic blast that would have sent him crashing into the wall.
The tomb's door inched closer to closing. Ash dropped flat against his board, streamlining his profile as he shot toward the narrowing gap. Just as the door was about to seal, he slipped through, the metal edge grazing his back as he tumbled from his board onto the floor inside.
The door slammed shut with finality, sealing him in complete darkness. The sounds of battle instantly muffled, replaced by an eerie silence broken only by his ragged breathing.
Ash's enhanced senses struggled to penetrate the absolute darkness. He could make out a large shape toward the back of the room, but details remained elusive. Reaching into his mind palace, he retrieved his headlamp and switched it on.
The beam cut through the gloom, illuminating what lay before him. Ash's breath caught in his throat.
Standing motionless in a massive glass cylinder was a Pokemon unlike any he'd seen before. Its body appeared almost mechanical, composed of smooth metal plates arranged in a humanoid form. Seven dots glowed faintly on its expressionless face—the same pattern he'd seen depicted throughout the underground facility.
At the base of the containment unit, a plaque read: "Project Registeel."
"Is this really a Pokemon?" Ash whispered, stepping closer to the glass.
Below the cylinder sat a bank of consoles, their surfaces covered with switches, dials and blinking lights. Ash ran his fingers across the controls, experimenting with different combinations. A red button caught his eye, and he pressed it without hesitation. Steam hissed from vents along the cylinder's edge as the glass began rising into the ceiling.
Cold air washed over him as he approached the dormant metal giant. Up close, its size was even more impressive, standing at least two and a half metres tall, with limbs thick enough to crush boulders. Despite its intimidating presence, Ash felt no energy radiating from the creation. No aura of power like he sensed from living Pokemon.
"What would it be like to have you on my team?" he murmured, circling the figure.
Something didn’t add up. According to the mask’s memory, the world ended before this project reached completion. But here it stood, seemingly finished yet lifeless.
Ash returned to the console, pressing different switches until the screen flickered to life. Schematics filled the display, technical drawings showing Registeel's internal components in exhaustive detail. As he flipped through the diagrams, realisation dawned on him.
"No way,” Ash breathed. “It's not a Pokémon at all."
Registeel wasn't a living creature but a sophisticated mechanical suit—a mech designed to be controlled by a human cultivator from inside.
Ash dug deeper into the files, finding research notes discussing the project's challenges. The primary obstacle had been compatibility—finding cultivators whose energy signature could properly interface with the mech. Most test pilots suffered rejection effects, their cultivation damaged by the connection.
"This must be why they were experimenting with Steelium," Ash muttered. "They kept working on this even after the Tower formed."
The pieces fell into place. The underground facility's purpose, the mask's capabilities, the liquid metal he'd found—all part of the same research program spanning centuries. They'd been trying to create the perfect pilot for their ultimate weapon.
But at some point, they had a change of heart, if their warnings were to be believed. They had sealed away Registeel, never to be seen again. What was so bad that they abandoned their life's work?
Ash located another control panel and pressed a sequence of buttons. With a mechanical whir, Registeel's chest plates separated, revealing a cockpit with a single seat surrounded by control sticks and displays.
Before climbing inside, he scanned through more files, searching for information about the tomb's security systems. If these designs existed in the simulation, the real facility might have the same vulnerabilities. He committed several access codes to memory.
Finally, Ash slipped into the cockpit and settled into the seat. Though the mech lacked power, he gripped the control sticks, imagining what it would feel like to control such a machine.
After he had his fun, he remembered that he still had to find the stairs. As soon as he stepped out of the mech, he saw the back wall slide open, revealing a set of stairs.
Ash grinned. He was meant to find this place.
Before ascending the stairs, he retrieved his mask from his mind palace and summoned the three Giru robots.
"Scout the entrance," he instructed, watching them zip up the stairs ahead of him.
Ash switched to Giru One's perspective, his vision shifting to reveal the seventh floor. Five cultivators waited there. To his surprise, Zinnia stood opposite Maxie and another Team Magma member, though neither appeared hostile toward her. The two Tower Association members he'd seen on the previous floor completed the group. All five looked dishevelled and battle-worn, their clothes showing signs of recent combat.
Recalling the robots to his mind palace, Ash climbed the final stairs cautiously. Whatever was happening, he needed to be prepared for anything.
As he emerged onto the seventh floor, Zinnia spotted him immediately. Before he could react, she rushed forward and wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace. Ash hesitantly returned the hug.
"What's going on?" he asked, stepping back to look at her.
"It's a temporary ceasefire," Zinnia replied.
"What do you mean?"
Maxie stepped forward, his red uniform torn at the sleeve. Despite his dishevelled appearance, his posture remained commanding.
"She means that the final trial requires seven people to participate," Maxie said. "So it doesn't do us any good fighting each other."
Ash walked over to the single door that dominated the room, reading the inscription carved into the stone above it. The text confirmed Maxie's claim—seven cultivators needed to work together to complete the trial.
"I see," Ash said, turning back to the group. "Then we need to wait for one more person to arrive."
Maxie's lips twisted into a scowl. "And what is the likelihood of that happening? I'm already running out of time."
"I can think of one person likely to make it here,”
As if summoned by his words, footsteps echoed from the stairwell. Paul appeared at the top of the stairs, his clothing singed and his face smudged with soot. He surveyed the room before approaching Ash.
"You are better than I thought," Paul admitted, though his tone remained condescending. "I never imagined you would make it to the top floor."
Ash couldn't resist a smirk. "It must be hard admitting when you're wrong. I even beat you here. Maybe next time, we can have a bet. It's a surefire way of earning some money."
"You must have gotten lucky," Paul replied, his eyes narrowing.
"Enough chattering," Maxie interrupted, stepping toward the door. "Let's start the final trial before we're all kicked out of the Pillar."
The seven cultivators gathered before the massive door, their temporary alliance evident in how they arranged themselves—no one turning their back on anyone else, yet all facing the challenge ahead.
So, what do you think? In the next chapter, Ash teams up with the other cultivators to finish the trial and obtain the prize. But only one can claim it.
Thanks for reading.
Comments
Swordcollector45
It's Bender Bending Rodriguez everyone
