Nasar frowned deeply. People had been pointing at him for a few days now. Most would just frown and look away, but a small number would smile. The smiling ones were the problem. And today, many were smiling.

He was on his way to see his brother about the problem, but it seemed that everyone was desperate to stop him. How else would they be smiling and pointing at him, today of all days? It was a sign of a problem as far as the current situation went.

He hurried down the stairs and disappeared. Then he changed direction, in case some had followed him, and then approached the throne room from behind.

Once he was there, he looked around to make sure he was alone before he ran inside.

The room was dark as always. But Nasar could see Amsterm sitting on his brother's throne as soon as he went in.

He stopped in his tracks. His whole body trembled as he pointed at the throne. "What do you think are doing?"

Amsterm laughed. "Just relaxing," he replied. "I want to have a taste of it before your brother comes, okay?"

Nasar's face clouded with anger. The throne was a special gift from Mother. Whoever sat on it would have their attributes enhanced. But when a second person sat on it, the first person would lose whatever they got from the chair as a result, until they sat on it again. How many people did Nasar kill before he succeeded in winning this throne for Mercellius, why should Amsterm sit on it?

"Get down and find another seat," Nasar said in a commanding tone. "And don't ever sit on it again."

Amsterm shrugged. "Why?" He asked. "We are expecting no attacks from anyone, so I see no problem for Mercellius losing a bit of strength. I just want to know how it feels."

Nasar silently stared at him. Perhaps the man thought he was above the law because of his new status in the guild.

"I know he is your brother," continued Amsterm. "But it is a shame to continue having him as our leader. I have the same opinion as many others. You deserve to lead us more than he does. Perhaps, I might not have thought of sitting on this throne if it were you leading the guild."

For more than a year now, Mercellius, the guild's Head, couldn't get beyond the 99th level and acquire his tenth specialization. For that reason, many of the guild's members thought he didn't deserve his title. And that Nasar should replace him.

"I don't want it," said Nasar through his teeth. "I can't stop you from seeking the leader's position, but you don't have the right to sit on the guild's throne before you become the Head." He drew his sword and pointed it at Amsterm. "You have five seconds to get as far away from the throne as possible."

Amsterm chuckled. "And if I don't..." He started.

But Nasar threw the sword at him. Amsterm raised his heavy shield to block it, but the sword pierced the shield and struck him on the shoulder. It went through his bones and pinned him to the throne.

Amsterm screamed in pain, while blood dripped from his shoulder.

Nasar felt his chest throbbed at the same time. Bitter blood gushed out of his mouth, while the pointy end of a sword came through his chest.

He tried to turn around to see who it was, but he couldn't. The edge of the sword rubbed against his heart with every move.

He looked at Amsterm with narrowed eyes. Did the man plan a coup? Nasar had never trusted the man from the start. If not for Mercellius' insistence, he would never have agreed to invite a man such as Amsterm to their guild. But then, no one in the guild could sneak up on him. In fact, from the first to the fifth floor, there might be only one person who could stab him in the back without him noticing. How did it happen?

"Blame your greed," said a voice that sounded like Marcellius. He tried to turn his head, but to no avail, and he was forced to wait for the speaker to come around and face him.

They stared at each other for several seconds.

"Brother?"

At first, Nasar thought it was a lookalike clone, so he gathered his remaining strength and identified the person in front of him by their essence. It was, indeed, Mercellius, his brother.

He stared at him, dumbstruck. What did he do that warranted death?

For twelve years, they had ascended the tower side by side. And they had blood ties even before joining the tower. They had saved each other from near-fatal incidents countless times. Why would his brother kill him when he knew that that would evict him from the tournament, forever?

Mercellius shrugged. "Blame your greed," he repeated and pierced Nasar's chest again with a dagger.

He left the dagger inside and stood back. Amsterm, who had removed the sword that pinned him to the throne, came forward. He pulled the dagger out and then pierced Nasar's gut with it, turning it until the gut spilled to the floor. "You have always wanted to replace Mercellius, haven't you? You are the one inciting the others. Admit it," he said.

Replace Mercellius? Tears began to trickle down Nasar's face as the realization hit him.

He had reached the 120th level a month ago, and that had given him the chance to specialize his skill for the twelfth time. Which made him the highest leveled person in the guild, and the most likely person to become the Head, should Mercellius vacate his seat. But he told everyone he didn't want it and his loyalty would always be to his brother. Somehow, Mercellius must have believed otherwise just like the people always pointing and smiling at him.

Amsterm left the dagger stuck in his stomach and stood aside. All the while, Nasar didn't as much as coughed. He didn't feel any pain, perhaps it was outweighed by his inner turmoil. Or maybe he was already dead inside. Or perhaps still dreaming.

Diana, who had entered at a point after Mercellius, came forward and stood before him.

She pulled out the dagger and stabbed it in his chest, then she removed it and cut his throat. "Forgive me. It's for the guild," she murmured.

For the guild? So that was what they would tell themselves to sleep at night after betraying a comrade.

The lifeless body wriggled for some seconds before it stilled.

Mercellius drew a slow breath as he stared at the corpse. After a long while, he walked toward the body and used a handkerchief to wipe the tears that streaked down the face. Then he folded and kept the handkerchief aside.

"I might perhaps remember his mother when I find the Elixir of Life," he said.

Diana frowned. "Perhaps? You promise to take it to her whenever you find it. We may not need him now, but he has contributed a lot to bring us where we are now."

Mercellius shrugged. "Of course, I am aware of that. But what if everyone is to get only one elixir, or what if there is just one elixir in the whole tower? Would you sacrifice it for her?"

Diana opened her mouth to speak but eventually shut it up and looked at her feet.

Mercellius shrugged as if saying 'you see'.

Amsterm laughed. "Anyway, even if we are to find a thousand Elixirs of Life, I doubt we could waste a single bottle on one decrepit old woman. What do you think, leader?"

Mercellius thought quietly before slowly nodding. He respected Nasar's mother, but he respected his ambition more.

***

Eternal life? Nasar could see Mercellius was serious.

The man put a hand on his shoulder. "Please join me and participate. We can become immortal."

Mercellius believed he was 'invited' to participate in a tournament that would give him eternal life. There were obvious problems with this: first, there was no such thing as eternal life; Second, even if there was a tournament in which, if you won, you would have eternal life, his brother wouldn't be the first to find out about it. The governments, organizations, and people worth billions would be the first to find out about it.

But then, he knew Mercellius was just trying to help him relieve the stress caused by his mother's sickness even if the man was mixing reality and fantasy.

"Are you in or not?" Mercellius asked.

Nasar nodded. "Just make sure we won't end up behind bars."

"Yes!" Mercellius hugged him. "Diana has joined as well. Let's register to start early. Some have already started."

Nasar frowned slightly. "Will you even let me say goodbye to my mother?"

"Fine," Mercellius said with a bit of an exaggeration, and then ran downstairs in high spirits. "I'll wait outside."

After the excited man left, Nasar stared at the door in front of him for a long while. It felt... abnormal, like he'd been away for an eternity and was just coming back.

It must be his wild imagination again for he'd always been there. He smiled, pushed open the door, and went inside. His mother was sleeping on a bed with a rubber tube in her nose.

He stood by the side of the bed and just watched her. He could remember when she had long blond hair and beautiful skin, but now there wasn't a strand of hair on her head and her skin was wrinkled like she was 100 years old.

He held her hand. The feeling of her cold hands made him feel more frustrated.

According to his mother, this was a hereditary disease. But the doctors said it wasn't. The disease had started in her lungs because of the things she had been exposed to at work.

Nasar had only come to know about it after she became ill. She had been seeing a doctor for some time and she had been told to change her job several times. But she couldn't do that since Nasar was in school and she paid for his schooling. In addition, she didn't have higher education so few jobs would take her.

Nasar got a well-paying job early after graduation so she had stopped working for a few months now. But by that time, the disease had already spread.

"What are you crying about?" Her weak voice rang in his ears. He had been crying again and this time in her arms.

"I'm not crying."

She didn't have the energy to argue so she just smiled. Nasar felt weak in his knees. His mother's usual comforting smile had now turned into a smirk because of her wrinkled skin and distorted face.

He opened his mouth to tell her she would be fine, but he couldn't. Instead, he continued to hold her. And they stayed like that for a long, long time.

"Where's that cousin of yours that always talks about finding me a cure?" She asked.

"Ali?"

"No." She shook her head. "The other one."

"Mercellius?"

"Yes, that one. I haven't seen him in forever."

Nasar smiled bitterly. Dementia. She was having the symptoms again. Mercellius was her dead husband's son and he was there just yesterday. How could she forget?

"He's fine. I think he'll be here tomorrow."

She stared at him as if she didn't believe him. After a while, she nodded and changed the conversation. "You should get married soon. Your hair is turning white already."

Nasar subconsciously looked at his black hair and young skin and couldn't help but roll his eyes. "I'm just 22, mom. People don't get married at 22."

His mother frowned deeply and was prepared to give him a long lecture about tradition. But suddenly, something strong was crushing him. His vision blurred and he forced his eyes open.

'Was I dreaming just now?'

He pushed away from the body that was hugging him tightly and stood up. The body was a girl, a beautiful girl with red hair. But it wasn't just her. There were many other girls and women and men all around him. All of them sleeping, unconscious.

They were surrounded by grasses. Each was as tall as he was. Next to the grasses were neem trees that looked somewhat familiar.

He stood there for a long time without moving before he lifted his right hand and brought it in front of his face. He clenched his fist and released it. He did it again, now tightly, then he released it.

He wasn't dreaming anymore. He closed his eyes and remembered everything that just happened in the throne room. Despite living through hell together for the past twelve years and being related long before they joined the tower, Mercellius had still betrayed.

He felt something heavy stuck in his throat. His breathing rapidly became faster.

"Why? We promised to find her cure together!"

Nasar clenched his fist and punched the ground. His entire body shook with an indescribable feeling. His chest felt like an empty shell of nothing.

"Why?"

After several minutes, he calmed his breathing. Since he could remember what happened, it meant he had somehow survived and stayed in the tower. Which meant there was still hope for him. He could climb to the seventh floor and find the elixir by himself. He just had to stay alive and made sure nobody ever killed him again.

Right now, he needed to find out where he was and why he was surrounded by all these unconscious women?

He walked through the grasses for a few minutes and he saw a building standing in front of him. The building was narrowed downward and widened upward like an umbrella. It was small compared to the designs he'd seen, but still the typical architecture of most lower-level buildings in the tower. Perhaps that was the reason the place looked familiar.

Nasar frowned as his eyes fell on the name above the entrance of the building.

"Hermes Guild."

He suddenly remembered why the building was familiar. He had seen it before. But that was twelve years ago when they were on the first floor.

He walked slowly into the house. Then once he went past the entrance, he heard Mother's voice in his head.

"Welcome to the First Floor, Hermes Guild."

"You have the highest qualifications among all the members of this guild. By section seven of the Law, Mother has made you the new Head of the guild. Congratulations."