In Dawnfall, every young cultivator dreamed of stepping inside the legendary Tower of Ascension. It was the ultimate playground for those who sought powerful artifacts, aimed to master the most complex pill formation scrolls, or simply wanted to prove their mettle against one of the eleven revered Floor Guardians. There was no grander arena across the continent.
According to legend, the first mortal to conquer the Tower was none other than the Divine Emperor. It was within those hallowed halls that he acquired the ultimate wisdom needed to forge the sacred sky region, a place whispered among the elite as the Divine Realm, where the strongest of the Human Clan could finally taste the rewards of their endless toil.
Yet, the Tower's true origins were shrouded in mystery. Even the Divine Emperor himself was clueless about who constructed it or why. But one truth was undeniable: any cultivator seeking to break through to the True Divinity Stage had to ascend to the eleventh floor.
For there, the most treasured relic of the Human Clan awaited—the Ice Bed.
This extraordinary artifact could elevate one's cultivation understanding to its zenith. It accelerated a mortal's ascent, rivaling the fiery trials of the Phoenix Clan's Volcanic Temple, and bestowed a state of deep enlightenment capable of unlocking the universe's greatest mysteries.
Opportunities like this were exceedingly rare. The Tower's gates opened only once every few centuries, and reaching the summit was even rarer. The eleven formidable Floor Bosses were just one of the many deadly challenges within.
Despite the staggering risks, every capable cultivator from the Transcendent Realm and above yearned to partake in this once-in-a-lifetime event. Even the royal family found it impossible to resist its allure. Across the realm, nobles and prodigies—those whose losses the kingdom could bear—were gearing up for this blood-soaked coming-of-age ritual.
And Raiking, the Princess pondered as she sat motionless in the Greenhollow main hall. The man who fears neither my kingdom's army nor the wrath of the Divine Emperor himself... is making his way to the heart of our people's aspirations.
What could possibly be driving him? Could it be the Ice Bed?
No, she concluded, her heart racing. With his unimaginable power, he has no need for a cultivation aid. Then what could be so irresistibly enticing within those walls?
"As you can see," Raiking said in a monotone, directing his words at Martha while ignoring the royals seated around him, "Faye is quite pleased with her winter attire. The next item on your agenda is a crib."
A crib? The Princess pondered, her brow knitting in bewilderment. Why would anyone seek a crib within the Tower of Ascension? This place was a realm of bloodshed and ancient trials, not a market bazaar.
These thoughts were fleeting as a more chilling realization seeped into her bones. In the entire Tower of Ascension, there was but one known "bed."
The sacred relic of the Human Clan—the Ice Bed.
It seemed preposterous, an idea too outlandish to be plausible. Yet, the Princess scrutinized the radiant, multi-hued cloak enveloping the infant, and a shiver ran down her spine. The intense concentration of mana and the vivid, fiery colors were uncannily similar to the depictions in the royal archives that illustrated mythical races.
Her horror mounted as she recalled the last intelligence report from her brother. It claimed the Guild had been spotted heading toward the Skyward Region's borders.
The territory of the Phoenix Clan.
Even with the Guild's close association with the Phoenix Queen, obtaining such a quantity of their sacred feathers was virtually impossible. Every learned noble was aware that plucking the legendary plumage from a True Phoenix was nearly unachievable—unless taken from a corpse.
Did he annihilate the Phoenix Clan just to craft a baby's coat? The Princess wondered in rising panic. Is he truly planning to steal our most treasured artifact to use as nursery furniture?!
The audacity of his intentions pushed her beyond fear. She couldn't just sit in silence. Allowing this would not only dismantle the royal family's power but would also permanently hinder every mortal with the potential for ascension. She had to act. She had to protect her kingdom's future, even at the cost of her own life.
The Princess placed her hands resolutely on the table. She inhaled deeply, ready to leverage her royal status and command the God of Death to abandon his pursuit.
But before she could speak, the shadows under her chair convulsed violently.
Dark mana lingered in the stagnant air as her shadow stretched and rose upward. An elite Royal Shadow Guard—his armor battered and his breath labored from a grueling sprint—emerged from the darkness, dropping heavily to one knee.
"Princess," the Shadow Guard gasped, extending a sealed parchment with a trembling, armored hand. "An emergency report from the Crown Prince. You must read it immediately."
The Princess hesitated, her hand hovering over the envelope. To her, the looming threat of the Ice Bed's theft seemed far more urgent than any routine message her brother could send.
Yet, she knew her brother, the Crown Prince, was a man of unyielding resolve; he rarely deemed anything an "emergency." The thought of their father gravely ill or the northern defenses falling to demon hordes made her pause. After all, if the kingdom fell and there were no subjects left to protect, what value would the kingdom's pride or its sacred artifacts hold?
With her decision made, she broke the royal seal and began to read:
[ Dear Sister,
What I am about to tell you is the absolute truth.
The Silent Blade Clan and the Skyward Border Mountains have been obliterated.
As you know, our father used his Northern Alliance token to enlist the most formidable Demon Clan assassins to target the elusive Western Guild Leader. Their initial attack failed, but they vowed to escalate. We awaited news of their success when a spy informed us of their complete annihilation.
Moreover, the Guild Leader was last seen heading toward the Skyward Border. We can only assume the Silent Blade sent their absolute best to confront him there. We lack details of the engagement, but the result is clear: the immediate and total destruction of the most legendary assassin clan in history.
Father is in utter turmoil. He is preparing to break the Holy Tablet to summon the Divine Emperor himself. Not only is he seeking aid from the Divine Realm, but he plans to sign a desperate peace treaty with the Demon King and the Dragon King, offering their heirs unprecedented access to the Tower of Ascension in exchange for a unified alliance against this common threat.
It has been millennia since such a coalition was formed. As we both know, the Great War did not end as swiftly as anticipated. It raged for centuries, and the casualties were catastrophic.
I pray we are not repeating our ancestors' mistakes by underestimating our enemy.
I command you—not as your brother, but as the Crown Prince—to return to the Capital immediately. You must help me prevent our father from crossing a line of no return.
Your devoted brother, Arturmus. ]
"Inconceivable..."
"Princess, what troubles you?" Sir Lerikmen asked, his voice cutting through the tense silence as he noticed the sudden shift in her expression.
Words failed her. The geopolitical disaster laid out before her was too monumental to articulate. Silently, she slid the quivering parchment across the table.
As Lerikmen's gaze swept over the letter, the seasoned Immortal's normally unshakeable demeanor faltered under the gravity of its contents.
Their eyes met, both understanding the silent message. The Guild was far more tumultuous than they had ever anticipated. To dismantle legendary clans that had stood since ancient times with such ease... this was no mere cultivation sect.
They were a force of annihilation, a menace on par with the Ancestral Demon who had once thrust the world into the throes of the Great War.