Tower Of God: Life As Hoaqin

[Then from this moment on, I hereby begin my—

Trial of Arie Hon.]

Those words reached everyone within the main family.

And the instant Hon finished speaking, a brief silence fell over the entire estate.

Of course—it didn't last long.

Crack—

Hah… finally, my body feels lighter.

After cutting through the bars and smashing every restraint hanging off me, a refreshing sense of freedom washed over me.

Father had returned to the 100th Floor.

He had answered my request for a trial.

Which meant there was only one thing left for me to do.

Go up.

Toward the highest floor of this palace—where Father awaited.

But before that, I needed my belongings.

Right now, aside from this shinsu-forged sword, I was completely broke.

My confiscated pocket, the countless items inside it—and Baekya.

I had to get them back first.

This trial wasn't something I could brute-force my way through with nothing.

Once I recovered my pocket, I'd assess the situation.

Contact Uncle Dickel. Contact Maschenny.

Father had offered three choices.

I needed to know how the main family was responding to them.

Honestly… I couldn't expect things to go in my favor.

Still—Uncle Dickel and Uncle Schmitt would be on my side.

At least I wouldn't be fighting alone.

Thinking that way, I glanced upward once more and stepped out of the underground prison.

I'd been trapped in this suffocating place for two weeks since returning to the main family, so I didn't know the layout well—but faintly, I could feel Baekya sending shinsu pulses toward me.

That had to be where my equipment was stored.

If I followed that signal, I'd find it.

"There he is!"

Just as expected, six execution inspectors had already converged on my position.

Compared to them—pulling swords, chains, and rare items from their pocket inventories—I looked pitiful, armed with only a single blade.

Looks like I'm switching careers to Wave Controller for a bit.

"Guess I don't need to worry about the aftermath anymore…!"

Shwoooom—!

Behind me, a tidal wave of white shinsu began to surge.

Might as well raise some hell on the way.

.....

Meanwhile — Immediately After Hon's Declaration

The main family descended into utter chaos.

Especially among Arie Rankers who belonged to specific factions.

"W-What do we do?! Call the captain!"

"Damn it, I am! Stop rushing me—Captain!!"

Even though Hon had clearly said choose freely, most Rankers—those not in high positions—still looked to their superiors for direction.

The scale had grown far too large for personal judgment.

And the answers from those high-ranking Arie figures—their guiding beacons—split almost evenly.

"We support the Elders. You all know Hoaquin's appearance. If you find him, execute on sight. If that's impossible, delay him as much as you can."

Hon's second option—help the Elders and stop Hoaquin.

At present, it felt like the obvious choice.

No matter how corrupt the Elders had become, no matter how much resentment they inspired, they were still the Elders.

Heroes of the Great War.

Figures personally appointed by Hon himself after the war.

"Captain… with all due respect, if not now, when will this corruption ever end?"

"Don't be foolish. Corrupt or not, the Elders are still the Elders. If they disappear, who replaces them? Who brings the glory they once brought to Arie? Do you want another civil war? The Tower is unstable right now. This is not the time for our family to show weakness."

Roughly half of the high-ranking Arie chose this ideology.

Regardless of morality, the Elders were undeniably capable.

The Arie Family's unbroken brilliance over tens of thousands of years proved that.

So they chose the Elders.

Because they wanted to enjoy this comfort just a little longer.

Because all it required was bowing their heads a bit more.

Chaos was a word utterly unwelcome to Arie veterans who had survived ancient wars and finally found peace.

....

Unlike those who chose quickly, the other half hesitated.

"Lord Governor, what should we do?"

"…For now, we observe."

Hon's third option—noninterference.

They resented the Elders deeply, yet still found helping Hoaquin… questionable.

What value did Hoaquin hold for them?

If he succeeded, yes—this could purge corruption.

But if he failed?

The backlash would fall squarely on them.

They had no desire to gamble on such a dangerous bet.

Thus, they chose the safest option.

Observation.

If Hoaquin won, good.

If the Elders won, no great loss.

But in truth—

With half the Arie supporting the Elders

and the other half choosing to stand aside,

Hoaquin's victory was impossible.

They knew it.

And yet—even with bitter, uneasy expressions—they still refused to step forward.

Because they had chosen to observe.

For now.

....

Arie Main Family – Situation Control Room

A white chamber filled with dozens—hundreds—of lighthouses, monitoring the estate 24/7.

The Situation Control Room.

In name only.

"…W-We still haven't chosen—"

More than ten execution inspectors lay dead on the floor.

Standing amid their blood, an inspector smiled calmly at the trembling staff.

"Don't worry. I'm not here to force anyone. I just need to borrow these facilities for a bit."

"Schmitt, almost done. Get ready."

Schmitt and Dickel—having cut down the execution inspectors with ease—were now linking their pockets to the control room's systems.

As Dickel waited calmly with eyes closed, one of his subordinates approached.

"More execution inspectors are converging. Should we intercept?"

"Yes. Just buy us some time."

At his words, Dickel's former 99th Floor Rankers drew their swords and rushed out.

Schmitt signaled his own subordinates to assist.

"…Ah. This is it. Dickel, we're ready. Your pocket's now connected to the entire main family. But… will this really work? It was my plan, but even I'm not confident."

"It has to. Let's pray there are still many swords left in Arie."

After a deep breath, Dickel activated the pocket's broadcast function.

"To all my brothers and sisters who are hearing this transmission."

Though they could respond, the other side remained silent.

Dickel continued.

"After the Great War, the Elders governed this family under authority granted by our great father, bringing us countless glories. That is an undeniable truth."

"To a child like I was, they were heroes—objects of respect, admiration, and longing. Not just to me, but to all Arie."

"Whether drawing their swords or sheathing them, they never disappointed us."

"For a time."

"But as ages passed and peace endured, they changed. They clung to status. Coveted wealth.

Sought power—security—strength."

"Young, passionate challengers were erased without a trace. Trials became mockeries of justice, excuses to eliminate those they disliked."

"Those who refused to bow lost friends. Lost family.

Lost themselves. Lost siblings."

"We all know this. Every one of us standing here today—alive, powerful—stands here because we bowed to the Elders!"

"How long must this continue?!"

"Great brothers and sisters of Arie! We are SWORDS!"

"A sword bows to no one unless they are a greater sword— It seeks only higher realms, greater strength, and the reason it exists as a sword!"

"That is what a sword is! And that is what we are!"

"Look at the Elders! Are they swords?! Once, perhaps they were—second only to Father and Arie itself."

"But now? They are not even daggers. They are nothing but demonic blades—driven by greed!"

"They are not swords!"

"An Arie sheathes their blade only before a sword greater than themselves! The only being who may wield us is our father—the master of Arie!"

"Do you truly not understand?! Even if they bring benefits to Arie, the Elders can no longer make Arie grow!"

"To the brothers and sisters who have yet to choose the Elders and merely watch—I know what you're thinking. You are afraid. Uncertain."

"But if you do not step forward, nothing will change.

Will you entrust the future of Arie to a single child rotting in an underground prison?"

"That child—barely two hundred years old—is willing to take Father's trial. And you would remain still?"

"Are you not ashamed—as swords of Arie?!"

"I, Arie Rom Dickel, former ruler of the 99th Floor, and Arie Schmitt, former ruler of the 96th Floor, will aid Hoaquin."

"This is my final plea—to those who watch in silence, and to those who have chosen the Elders. I beg you… stand with us."

At last, Dickel fell silent.

Breathing heavily, he waited for a response.

None came.

— ...…

So in the end… they would remain cowards, hoping things would change without acting?

As Dickel's disappointment settled in, Schmitt clicked his tongue lightly—just as he'd expected—and urged him to move.

"Tsk. Waste of time. Let's go, Dickel. From the looks of it, Hoaquin's heading for the armory."

"Yeah—let's hurry—"

SHRAAAASH—!

BOOOOM!

A massive white wave crashed down upon Schmitt and Dickel.

They drew their swords instantly and deflected the attack, avoiding injury—but the backlash obliterated every lighthouse camera in the situation control room behind them.

"…Tch. I was hoping to interrupt you later, but you wrapped things up faster than I expected."

"…Execution Unit. Unit One."

The Elders' hunting dogs.

Their private army.

The Arie family's shadow corps.

Among all the infamy surrounding the Arie Execution Unit, Unit One was the name most often spoken in dread.

And the young man smiling slyly before Dickel and Schmitt was its captain.

Here, they were pinned.

Even if Hoaquin broke through Unit One, the main family still overflowed with enemies.

Meanwhile, his allies numbered only two—Dickel and Schmitt.

FWOOSH—

"So this is the strength of former rulers, huh? Didn't expect the chance to test it this soon. Execution Unit—prepare the Fourth Blade Formation."

The Wind-Calling Blade was swallowed by a white vortex, releasing razor-sharp pressure.

Dickel and Schmitt readied themselves to counter.

As the captain—raised his sword to strike—

— Former ruler of the 77th Floor, I, Arie Arvain, will stand with you, Dickel.

A voice answered through Dickel's pocket.

The captain tilted his head in confusion—but the replies didn't stop.

— Former ruler of the 90th Floor, Arie Khan Arden, joins you.

— Former ruler of the 93rd Floor, Arie Ryeohwa, stands with you.

— Fourth Branch Head of Arie, Arie Hyeonryeong, stands with you.

— The Arie Administrative Division stands with you.

— Former ruler of the 95th Floor stands with you.

— Sixth Branch Head and the White Wolf Unit stand with you.

— Former rulers of the 78th, 79th, and 97th Floors stand with you.

The confirmations poured in—one after another.

And with each reply, the smile on captain's face rotted further.

In contrast, Dickel and Schmitt's expressions brightened.

Regaining his composure, Schmitt flashed his familiar crooked grin and taunted him.

"Thought it'd just be the two of us, huh? Looks like the cleanup crew got a lot bigger. Like—a lot bigger."

"…Doesn't matter. It'll take longer—but I'll deal with all of you."

The playful glint in captain's eyes vanished, replaced by naked killing intent.

Schmitt's grin widened.

"Not wrong."

FWOOSH—

Schmitt's sword—White Beluga—revealed its true form.

At the same time, Dickel released his blade—Halla.

"Confident?" Schmitt asked. "Against the two of us?"

"No problem. Execution Unit One was created to hunt people like you."

Surrounded by executioners, the captain at the center with sword drawn, Schmitt bared his fangs.

"Dickel. How long's it been since we fought together?"

"Probably since the Slayer Subjugation War—four thousand years ago."

With that, white waves and white light surged toward one another.

Swords clashed countless times, scattering radiant arcs.

Within that raging vortex of light, only three could fight as equals.

As many who once chose neutrality stepped forward to support Hoaquin—and some who backed the Elders defected—the balance finally shifted.

Four to six.

Even with so many joining Hoaquin's side, they were still outmatched.

Why?

Because the military—the symbol of Arie's might—remained firmly under the Elders' control.

And above all—

The strongest participant in this trial still served the Elders.

.....

Thunk. Thunk.

Heavy military boots echoed through the corridor.

The Supreme Commander of the Arie Execution Force—

Arie Cheon.

His unhurried steps led, inevitably, toward the family armory—where Hoaquin was headed.

No matter how long it took him to arrive.

No matter how fast Hoaquin ascended.

By the structure of the main family, their paths would cross.

And that moment would be Hoaquin's end.

Knowing the outcome, Cheon felt no need to hurry.

The Elders—his eternal masters—seemed anxious now, but they would soon regain their composure.

All he had to do was present them with the head of a mere Regular.

Calm. Untroubled.

Like a predator tightening its grip, Cheon walked the corridor—

Until something foreign disturbed his peace.

Voices.

Conversation drifting from afar.

He stopped and focused his senses.

Soon, the culprits revealed themselves.

"Hahahaha—if you'd always acted that cute, you'd have been a truly lovable little sister."

"Shut up. Say that one more time and I'll throw you into the underground prison for insulting royalty."

"Kukuku—alright, alright."

"This is your fault anyway! You flew too high! Hoaquin's still in the underground prison—if we land here, how long do you think it'll take to reach him?"

Because he had never received instructions from the Elders on how to deal with a Princess of Zahard, Cheon became—just slightly—more cautious in how he treated her.

After all, no matter who he was, a Zahard Princess was not someone he could dismiss lightly.

Of course, to Maschenny, it looked nothing more than thinly veiled rudeness.

"Hm? Don't feel like it. Even your father allowed outside interference—so who do you think you are to stop it?"

Cheon finished running his calculations in his head, fell briefly silent, and then spoke.

"I was not trying to stop you. It was merely a warning.

And if you remember Father's words… then you should remember this as well."

His hand slowly moved toward his sword.

Maschenny noticed it a beat too late.

"Everything is permitted."

SHRAAAASH—

In an instant, Cheon drew his blade and lunged straight for her throat.

Until the very moment his sword reached the space just short of Maschenny's neck, she hadn't even properly perceived the attack.

KWA-GAGAGAGANG!

"…!"

Of course—only Maschenny failed to sense it.

The man standing beside her was a different story entirely.

Cheon's blade—laden with vicious silver shinsu—was intercepted in a flash by a sleek blue spear.

"Well now," the man said lightly, holding his spear raised, eyes sharp.

"The siblings were having such a pleasant conversation. How rude of you to interrupt."

Then he grinned.

"That part was a lie, by the way. Where would you ever find a retainer as handsome as me?"

Cheon raised his sword slightly, eyes narrowing as he scrutinized the man from the Khun family—

And then he saw it.

"KIEEEEEEEE—!"

A blue bird wreathed in thunder burst forth, lightning crackling across its entire body.

A Thunderbird.

Awakened from within the man's body—the vessel in which it had been sleeping—the Thunderbird revealed itself the moment lightning was released.

That special crest sewn into the Khun family uniform.

A spear wielder capable of controlling a Thunderbird—and standing as an equal opponent.

Only then did Arie Cheon realize who he was facing.

"Don't tell me you're—"

"Oh, I'll do the introductions myself."

Pajijijijik—!

The man swung his spear straight forward, releasing a surge of lightning that flooded toward Cheon.

It was a demonstrative strike—no real damage—but the impact was more than sufficient.

"Head of the Blue Spear Cavalry branch of the Khun family… and the half-brother of our adorable little sister."

"Shut up."

Ignoring the interruption entirely, the man continued smiling as he spoke.

"Khun Lucas Aldebain. That emblem on your uniform—Execution Force Supreme Commander, right?"

He tilted his head, amused.

"Didn't think I'd ever cross blades with the Arie Execution Force Commander. Life's funny like that."

"KIEEEEEEEE—!"

The Thunderbird roared at Cheon, lightning and sparks exploding in every direction.

Cheon waved his hand, forcibly dispersing the lightning, and fully released his sword.

"So you didn't expect to face me?" he said coldly.

"I did. I've crossed blades with a Khun branch head before."

Lucas' eyes lit up with interest.

"Oh? And? You win?"

"I did."

"Then you'll lose this time."

KWA-AAAANG—!

The moment the words left his mouth, Lucas lunged forward with his thunder spear.

Cheon swung his sword to meet him.

In less than a second, their vastly different forces collided—and once more, the surrounding space was engulfed in white and blue shinsoo.

With Lucas—a member of Maschenny's faction, her half-brother, and a Khun branch head—joining the fray…

The balance of power between Hoaquin's side and the Elders' side shifted once again.

Five to five.

The trial had only just begun.