Tower Of God: Life As Hoaqin

100th Floor — Somewhere Outside the Outer Tower

"That takes care of one problem at least."

Dickel wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, letting out a long sigh as he looked at me. The white light covering my body broke apart into shimmering particles and faded. Once I'd returned to my normal form, I steadied my breathing and nodded.

"Yeah. Guess that's the only comfort I get right now."

Escaping the Enforcement Unit — fine. But what came after? That was the real problem. No matter how cleverly I slipped their net, I still had to set foot in the Main Estate and stand trial — and nothing pleasant awaited me there.

And fleeing the 100th Floor outright… that would be straight-up treason.

"So what reason are they throwing around to brand you a traitor?"

"The short version? Apparently I'm the 'Butcher of the 96th Floor' and I've been colluding with FUG."

"Utter nonsense."

"My thoughts exactly."

Anyone who knew even ten percent of my family situation wouldn't dare say that garbage. The sheer absurdity made me want to throttle someone. Before I ever became a Regular I worked for the family. Afterward, I carved out whatever free time I had from climbing to take missions that benefited the family. I literally bled for them.

And for that, they decided to feed me to the wolves?

"Oh, well — you did technically destroy the 96th Floor. Factually speaking."

"…"

Dickel slid the dagger in right where it hurt. He wasn't wrong. I did break the damn place. That weird out-of-control episode… whatever that was. My head felt like it was going to split open, like something was— yeah. Best not dwell on it.

"You ever attended one of these trials?" I asked.

"I've watched many. When they capture someone alive, sentence gets carried out afterward."

Before I could ask the obvious question, he answered it himself.

"Two outcomes. Death or sealing. Nothing in between."

"…I don't want either of those. Do you know a lawyer?"

"For high treason? No such right. No defense counsel allowed."

"Ah. Lovely. Guess I'm screwed. Haha."

I tried to joke, but something cold and heavy settled inside me. Treason in a 10 Great Family wasn't symbolic. It was absolute. Death or eternal silence. Even if it still felt unreal, fear seeped in around the edges.

Dickel noticed.

"Relax. Trials are— comparatively — fair enough. As long as you aren't secretly a FUG Slayer, I doubt it'll be that bad."

I flinched. Joking or not, the idea didn't help.

"And to be honest, to me this whole trial feels like—"

BEEP— BEEP— BEEP—

My hidden pocket screen flashed into visibility, loud and insistent. Dickel stopped mid-sentence and motioned for me to answer.

The caller ID read:

— Princess —

"…Right. I forgot to tell Maschenny."

Not that I really had the time. One minute we were chatting in the airship dock, next the Enforcement Unit kicked in the door and I got dragged to the 100th.

I quickly accepted the call.

— Hey. Where are you? Where's the fortress?

"Long story. I'm on the 100th Floor."

— 100th?! You took the test without me? Wait… no way—

"…?"

— You got mad because I left you behind? Is that it?

Her stifled laughter filtered through the line and, just like that, the guilt evaporated. I used to tease her without mercy — funny how the tables turn.

"…I'm hanging up, Maschenny."

— Wait. Why are you even up there?

"Trial. I'm a criminal now."

— …what?

I drank a mouthful of water and explained everything: the visit to the air fortress, becoming a traitor out of nowhere, fighting the Enforcement Unit, fleeing upward, landing on the 100th.

As the explanation dragged on, her voice grew quieter, heavier.

— …Hoaquin.

"Yeah."

— So what's going to happen?

"Die, or get sealed."

Unlike me — who spent most of childhood on some lonely fortress — Maschenny actually grew up in the Main Estate. She'd seen dozens of family defectors. And she'd seen what happened to them. Which was why she wasn't panicking — she was furious.

— Do you have a counterplan?

"…It happened too fast. Still thinking."

>L— Still thinking?! You don't know how the family deals with people it doesn't like? They bury them. Hoaquin — that is literally what's happening to you right now!

Her words hit like a hammer. I glanced at Dickel — he nodded silently.

Right. I'd been stupid. I let myself imagine something as naïve as a fair trial.

The trial itself was the trap. Branding me a traitor was the trap. This whole thing was a sandpit designed to swallow me alive.

"My earlier comment was about that as well," Dickel said. "The Elders claim to protect the family's honor, but sometimes they mainly protect their own stomachs."

He sank into a chair with a worried sigh.

"So. What now? I warped the fortress to the far side of the Outer Tower and slowed the engines. We have two weeks before we reach the Estate. Unless they force us to accelerate…"

Even as he spoke, I was tearing through possibilities in my head.

How do I escape? How do I fight an opponent with power but also legitimacy? I'd fought monsters before. I'd never fought bureaucracy.

I clawed at my hair. If not for this mess I'd just have taken Father's Test and—

Oh.

"Oh!"

Both Maschenny and Dickel jolted.

I grinned.

"Looks like I will be taking Father's Test after all."

Dickel exhaled through his teeth.

"So you are serious. It's too dangerous—"

"If I go to trial, I die or get sealed. Father's Test at least offers two outcomes — death or survival."

He rubbed his temples.

"Spoken like a true Arie."

"If I'm going to die either way, I'd rather choose the option that gives me the better odds," I said.

Dickel couldn't refute that. If all the Elders were in on this, there was no scenario where I slipped out of the Main Estate alive. But if I passed Father's Test… then Elder authority wouldn't matter. Nothing outweighed the authority of the Family Head.

— …Father's Test? You mean Arie Hon's test?

Maschenny sounded as if she wanted to scold me. I didn't dodge it.

"…Yeah. Feels like the only path left."

She didn't argue further. Maschenny wasn't naive enough to make promises like "I'll figure something out, just wait". But sometimes the "best choice" was still a choice you wished you never had to make.

— Hoaquin… are you going to be okay?

"…Honest answer? No."

The contents of the Test always changed. Of those I knew, only two had ever passed: Urek Mazino, and Arie Hagipherione Zahard. If I faced something similar to Hagipherion's Test, maybe it was doable. But if I faced Urek's—

Guaranteed death.

Being stronger than most Rankers meant nothing. I couldn't possibly compare to the strongest swordsman in the Tower, ranked 3rd. Urek was a monster.

So no — there was no peace in the idea of walking willingly into Father's Test. My attempt to pretend otherwise was almost funny.

But—

"Thanks for worrying, Maschenny."

"Trust me. I'll be fine."

I'd walked into the dens of bulls, assaulted the Workshop while a Ranker might be inside, triggered Mystic Guardian's anti-Ranker mode, duelled Data Zahard, charged FUG Rankers as a Regular, ran into Ha Jinsung, clashed with Zahard's Princesses, fought the Arie Enforcement Unit…

"And I'm still here. So this time should be no different. Worst case, help me again. Like before. …Hugging works too."

I slipped the last part in just to be cheeky. My companions always said I helped them — but the truth was they pulled me out of the abyss just as often.

— I don't care anymore. Do what you want. If you die, I'll kill you.

"Haha. Terrifying. Relax, never died once so far."

After a few more exchanges, she hung up. I turned to Dickel.

"How do I apply for Father's Test?"

"No need to worry about logistics. I'll file it properly. And… contact people who might be willing to aid you. If you're doing this, you should do it properly. Only—"

His expression twisted into something complicated. I tilted my head.

"…Only what?"

"The Family Head is not at the Estate. He's abroad."

"…Where?"

"To my knowledge—"

....

100th Floor — Eurasia Family Main Estate

Within the palace of the Eurasia Family Head, Eurasia Blossom — the "Palace of Sleep."

The ceiling was built from the highest-grade glass, letting the soft sky of the 100th Floor spill into the hall. The stained walls glimmered with pastel colors, creating an atmosphere so serene and dreamlike that even an insomniac might drift into slumber just by stepping inside.

Today, however, the palace was unusually busy.

Their long-awaited guest — a truly important guest — would arrive at any moment.

"The fortress has landed!"

"Prepare! Make sure nothing is lacking!"

"All arrangements are in place!"

The Rankers of Eurasia, true to their languid nature, were as relaxed as ever. But the external retainers serving under the Family were on the verge of collapse from the pressure. After all, this guest was someone one did not dare mishandle.

Soon, the courtyard outside stirred with movement. Servants swallowed hard, wiping cold sweat from their faces.

At last, the heralds at the main gate shouted:

"Presenting one of the Great Adventurers, one of the Ten Family Heads — Family Head of Arie, White Oar: Arie Hon!"

Only ten individuals in the Tower could receive hospitality within this palace — the Ten Family Heads. And today's guest was the greatest swordsman in the Tower.

Thoom— Thoom—

The vast doors — massive enough that a Ranker's full strike would barely scratch them — slowly opened. A small procession crossed the threshold.

Rankers of Eurasia straightened their posture, clearing their drowsy haze in an instant. They had to. Those entering the palace now possessed enough force to raze the Eurasia Family to the ground, should they desire — even if they had come as guests.

Silence settled.

At the forefront walked a man in white oriental garments and a blue overcoat. He halted, observing the palace interior, then finally spoke:

"…As enchanting as ever. A dream made into stone."

The servants, heads bowed lowest, felt pride swell inside them.

"This place is beautiful," remarked one of his escorts, "but it cannot compare to our own Estate, Father."

Hon chuckled.

"Ah, true. When one resides in beauty long enough, its brilliance becomes ordinary."

Behind Hon stood the second strongest sword of the Arie family — Arie Yure. And behind him, the Captain of the Family Guard, Arie Hanul. Behind them, the escorting swordsmen. Behind those, the palace staff — forming a procession so long it seemed without end.

A man with dark green hair approached and bowed.

"Thank you for your arduous journey, Family Head. I am Fon Sekal Lairoe, tasked with guiding you. With your permission, we will now escort you to our Lord."

Hon smiled kindly.

"Your respect is commendable. But do not diminish yourself so much."

"Pardon?"

"When you belittle yourself, you tarnish your master's dignity as well."

"…! F-forgive me!"

"You owe me no apology. Self-awareness is a virtue. Now — lead on. I am eager to see my old friend."

Lairoe bowed deeply before guiding him onward. After some distance, they faced one last door — far smaller than the entrance, yet exuding a weight that was unmistakably divine.

"My Lord awaits within. Please wait a moment."

He walked forward and knocked gently.

"My Lord, as scheduled — Arie Hon of the Ten Families has arrived."

— "Let him in."

With permission granted, Lairoe stepped aside and looked to Arie Hon.

"From here on, only the Family Head may enter. Once everyone clears away, the door will be opened."

Hon flicked his gaze toward Yure, and at once Yure, Hanul, and the family guard withdrew without objection.

Lairoe had braced himself for resistance — Arie swordsmen were not known for yielding space — yet they complied instantly, and he found himself quietly impressed.

Once the Arie retinue had fully stepped back, the palace attendants retreated as well. Only then did Lairoe open the door. Whatever mechanisms lay within, the door slid apart without even the faintest rumble.

As it parted, a red curtain came into view. Having fulfilled his role, Lairoe bowed deeply and withdrew.

Hon remained alone.

Satisfied, he lifted the curtain slightly and stepped through.

Inside, he found an unexpected guest.

A brown-haired man in a white coat — glasses perched on the bridge of his nose — sat with a young girl on his knee, absentmindedly stroking her hair.

"Oh? You're here too, Gustang?"

"My daughter's here. Obviously I'm here."

Gustang's tone remained as dismissive as always, his attention never leaving the child on his lap. The girl blinked at Hon with wide eyes. Hon was about to greet her when a voice drifted from the bed on the far side of the room.

"So? Why are you here, Hon?"

"Blossom. There you are. It's been a while."

"Mm. It has. Why are you here?"

Hon angled his head toward the bed. Reclining against the pillows was a pink-haired girl — no older than a youth in appearance — yet her eyes held an ancient weight no words could describe.

The Head of the Eurasia Family: Eurasia Blossom.

Her tone was sharp. Hon shrugged.

"I hope you don't misunderstand. I didn't bring my retainers to threaten you. If you felt otherwise, I apologize. I merely came to…"

His gaze slid back to the child. She had slipped off Gustang's knee and was now half-hiding behind his legs.

"…congratulate you both for having a child. This must be her. Her name was—"

Before Hon could finish, the girl peeked out.

"E-Eurasia Enne…"

"Right. That was it. A fine name. Pleased to meet you, Enne. I am Arie Hon."

"Arie…?"

"That is my family name. My children bear it as well."

"Th-then, do you know… Hoaquin-oppa?"

"…?"

Hon blinked. Gustang answered before he could inquire further.

"Don't mind that. She happened to meet one of yours by chance."

"Hey! Dad! You can't just say 'don't mind that' — that really hurts, you know!"

"…Mind her. Please."

Gustang's unusually fussy tone drew a faint chuckle out of Hon. It seemed parenthood really did change people. He briefly thought of two others who had once become parents before either of these two — but he kept it to himself.

"Haha. Very well. I'll remember."

He returned his attention to Enne. She fidgeted, clearly flustered under the scrutiny. Hon ignored it. From even a glance he could see it:

An exquisite face, radiant vitality, flawless shinsu affinity, a budding aura already reminiscent of both parents, Blossom's serene gaze, Gustang's perceptive sharpness — and physical talent that bordered on perfect.

A complete organism, he concluded. A being blessed in every metric that mattered.

As he watched her, a dangerous thought flickered through his mind.

If she receives Zahard's blood… how far would she climb?

In Hon's estimation, that child alone could overturn the power balance of the Ten Families. Even Yure, had he been infused with Zahard's blood early, would not have reached that potential.

He was still analyzing when—

Fwip—

A white-gloved hand abruptly blocked his vision.

Gustang.

"…?"

"Stop staring. You're making her uncomfortable."

"Hah. You really have become a father."

"Become? He is my father, though."

Enne chimed in, delightfully unaware she'd become the center of a monumental political conversation. Hon found her genuinely adorable.

Truly — a life that had everything.

"…I suppose I must acknowledge it," Hon murmured.

Both Blossom and Gustang tilted their heads.

"Acknowledge what?" Blossom asked.

"That the strongest Princess of Zahard may one day be—"

—!

BOOOOM—!

The explosion cut him off. Smoke billowed and receded almost instantly, revealing Hon — sword drawn, guarding against the blast.

"…Was that really necessary?"

He snapped his gaze forward. Blossom stood from the bed, hand outstretched, shinsu still rippling at her fingertips. Footsteps echoed from outside — Rankers from both Families rushing in.

— Family Head! — Family Head!

[ I told you to stay back. ]

Hon's voice swept through the room like a blade of pressure. Silence fell instantly.

[ My words carry so little weight you forget them in minutes? ]

[ Leave. ]

Blossom added her own command. Both forces bowed deeply and withdrew to a respectful distance.

Only then did Hon lower his blade.

"You want her as a Princess of Zahard? Absolutely not. If Zahard so much as glances this way, tell him to keep his eyes — and his blood — to himself."

Hon stared.

He truly did not understand them.

A daughter born of two Family Heads. Not merely powerful — but unprecedented. Even her next sibling would not be guaranteed to be female. Why not seize the throne laid at her feet?

If granted Zahard's blood, that child was a weapon capable of shifting the Ten Families' hierarchy by herself.

He looked to Gustang for sense — but Gustang had his hands clamped over Enne's ears and stared back coldly.

"…I see."

There was no point arguing. Hon was not Eduan — he did not feel compelled to fight over every outrageous topic.

"I'll take my leave, then. I've no desire to spoil your mood further."

He turned to go. But just before leaving the room entirely, he paused.

"Blossom. Gustang."

"What?"

"For what it's worth… I hope this household lives happily."

"If you're finished spouting nonsense, get out."

As Hon resumed walking, the girl piped up behind him:

"Dad, what's a Princess of Zahard?"

"…You shouldn't have heard that, my daughter."

A household.

They all knew which one he meant before this one.

And what became of it.

Hon left the palace with his escort. What began as a visit with good intentions now tasted bitter on his tongue.

Today, of all days, he kept thinking of those two — the ones he should no longer remember.

His mood soured.

"…Family Head," Yure spoke carefully. He had noticed.

"What is it?"

"There is a Regular — the one requesting to undergo your Test."

Hon did not answer immediately. The 'Test' — created for his amusement in coordination with the Administrator — held no appeal in his current disposition.

He wanted rest.

"Ten years," Hon said at last. "If he wishes to challenge my Test, then he may wait ten years."

A blink of time for those who live eternally. But for others…

It was not so trivial.