NOVEL NEXT Chapter 197: Updated Leaderboards
Updated Leaderboard.
Tower of Ascension—1st Year
• Aodhán Brystion, Level 28—1st [01:12]
• Ayisha Helsarin, Level 27—2nd [09:42]
• Cyrus Valerion, Level 27—3rd [08:24]
• Andrew Willowood, Level 27—4th [06:12]
• Daruk Brystion, Level 27—5th [05:36]
• Cameron Lorde, Level 27—6th [01:47]
• Lysirel Cosmind, Level 26—7th [19:45]
• Ursaz Urdania, Level 26—8th [15:27]
• Imani Blackwell, Level 26—9th [09:33]
• Lilith Bloodmoon, Level 26—10th [08:50]
Change was inevitable. Aodhán knew that. He had braced himself for it, but when his gaze locked onto the holographic screen above him, the sheer scale of the shift on the leaderboard still caught him off guard. He couldn't contain his shock.
In just an hour, the rankings had transformed completely. The board looked nothing like it had before. New names were scattered across it—some expected, others... not at all.
Healers surrounded him, calling out to get his attention, but Aodhán was too stunned to respond. A moment later, healing energies surged through him, mending his damaged pathways and calming his spirit.
Still, Aodhán grimaced.
His reaction wasn't born from pain or jealousy—he wanted his friends to grow stronger, but from the sobering realization of just how intense the competition had become.
Had he surrendered during the fight against the Medusozoa, there would've been little to separate him from nearly half the names on that list—aside from how long he'd managed to last in the level. That thought alone made his stomach churn. He could only imagine how Cyrus was feeling right now—probably on the brink of a meltdown.
Judging from the timestamps logged in each level, Cyrus was barely clinging to third place. A steep fall from where he'd stood at the start of the term. Aodhán didn't need to turn his head to know Cyrus was fuming somewhere on the edge of the stage—he could feel his glare, like a heatwave of resentment rolling off him.
Forcing himself not to look, Aodhán scanned the leaderboard again. His gaze landed on Imani's name, and he shook his head in wonder. Her appearance in the top ten wasn't exactly surprising—he had sensed her core earlier that morning and knew how much stronger she'd grown. But still… he hadn't expected her to climb this high.
And then there was Ursaz Urdania…
Aodhán didn't think he had ever seen the wind-awakened fight before or even use any of his abilities in public. The fact that he was stronger than both Scarlett and Ankaz was shocking—Aodhán had always assumed Scarlett was the strongest of the three siblings.
The new leaderboard helped put things into perspective. Aodhán realized just how fierce the competition had become. If he wanted to hold onto his spot at the top, he needed to get serious—more serious—about his training. The updated rankings made it clear: the gap between him and the others wasn't nearly as wide as he'd thought.
The healer nudged him again, and Aodhán finally snapped back to himself. "I'm sorry," he began, but the man waved his apology off with a smile.
"No need to apologize. I get it. Seeing the updated leaderboards after a battle like that can be a lot. How do you feel?"
"Better," Aodhán replied gratefully. "I can finally move energy through my pathways without screaming in agony."
The healer chuckled and shook his head. "Still, take it easy. I've repaired most of the damage, but there are a few pathways you'll need to mend on your own. A few hours of meditation should have you back in top form."
"Thank you, sir. I really do appreciate it."
"You're welcome." The healer smiled and gestured to the left, where Daruk, Andrew, and Yurin were waving at him excitedly.
Still a little drained, Aodhán made his way toward them, offering a grateful smile as Daruk immediately stepped in to support him with a shoulder.
"This leaderboard is insane!" Yurin exclaimed.
Aodhán nodded. "I can barely believe it myself. When I saw it, I was shocked."
"I wasn't," Andrew said, shaking his head solemnly. "I knew things would shake up after the break. It's always like this every year. And after the results this morning, everyone's gone insane trying to stand out and prove themselves."
"Everyone except me, apparently." Yurin snorted and shrugged his shoulders dramatically, but when the others looked at him with amused expressions, his façade crumbled. He lunged at Andrew and began fake-sobbing on his shoulders.
"Oh, I tried and tried, but that blood orc was like an enhanced version of Lilith Bloodmoon—blood-bending me like some twisted puppet. I burned through so much willpower just trying to break free. And the moment I did? I ejected myself so fast I think I left a sonic boom behind."
Andrew chuckled and patted Yurin's shoulders. "I don't blame you. I had to use up a whole seal just to beat him. You know what's worse than losing to the blood orc? Using up a seal on the Medusozoa and still failing. I swear I felt my spirit leave my body for a second."
Aodhán laughed, then jumped in to share his own experience with the Medusozoa, describing how Varéc had swooped in just in time to save his ass before the creature could finish him off.
"Well, at least you won," Daruk grumbled. "All that stuff Valerie was saying about ice conducting electricity? I tried to put it into practice and nearly blacked out. I need to find some more defensive skills against lightning—and I need to find them yesterday."
They all laughed again, and for the next few minutes, swapped stories about their experiences in the different tower levels, tossing around ideas for new skills they could create to get an edge.
The rest did Aodhán good, helping him recover his strength and giving his minor regeneration a chance to work on the damages the healer hadn't healed or noticed. Before long, Ayisha, Scarlett, and Gwendolyn joined them, each one sharing their perspective on the updated leaderboard and recounting their encounters within the tower.
All in all, it was a good evening.
And when their conversation finally reached a natural close, Aodhán and Andrew excused themselves from the group and began making their way to the library in search of item inspiration. The tournament was closing in fast, and with the selection trials already this intense, they needed to step up—fast.
Five minutes later, they reached the library and made their way to Librarian Swifteye's desk. The sharp-eyed woman barely even spared him a double glance, completely pretending like she hadn't even seen him before. Aodhán decided to play along. The woman had helped him with the [Veil of Shrouded Mind] technique. If she wanted to pretend like she didn't know him, then so be it.
They handed her their pass, and after scanning it with a sharp glance, she led them to a secluded section on the first floor, where books on awakened items were displayed.
Together, Aodhán and Andrew took in the wide selection of titles, then agreed to rendezvous at the lobby in three hours before heading off in different directions. Aodhán moved toward a small shelf labeled Storm/Lightning Items, while Andrew gravitated toward the much larger one dedicated to Nature Affinity Items.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
There were barely a dozen books on the lightning shelf—and more than half of them were clearly fictional—but one leatherbound tome caught Aodhán's attention. He squinted at the tiny inscription scribbled along the bottom of the cover and read aloud:
"The Tempest Codex: Relics of Thunder and Storm, by Vaelrik Zephandrus."
The tiny text shimmered like runes, golden letters hinting at a hidden mystery. Pulling the tome free, Aodhán made his way to a small table tucked into the corner and began to flip through it.
To those who dare wield the fury of heaven, know this—lightning is not merely an element; it is a force of will, a harbinger of change, a power that bends only to those bold enough to command it. Across the ages, relics imbued with the essence of storms have been forged, lost, and rediscovered—each carrying within them the raw wrath of the storm itself.
This tome is no mere collection of items. Within these pages lie the chronicles of artifacts born from celestial fury, lightning, and tempests. And should you seek inspiration, let the storm guide you—this codex shall grant you a torrent of ideas to rival the wildest tempest.
Aodhán chuckled at the overly dramatic tone—more amused than put off. The pomp was thick, sure, but something about it struck a chord. He wasn't here for literary restraint anyway. He needed ideas, and if the Codex could deliver even one, he'd read every flowery line it threw at him. He turned to the first chapter and settled in.
***
Rahim stood in Zatya's office, arms folded, as he watched the leaderboard screen with quiet satisfaction. In only four short months, his students had come very far from the bumbling idiots they once were. They had grown from a chaotic mess of underachievers to a half-decent crop of talent and potential. A few still needed a wake-up call, sure, but more than half had started to show real promise—and that was more than he'd hoped for at the start of the year.
The arena roared again as Andrew Willowood exited the tower, and although he had placed relatively high on the tower, coming 4th overall, Rahim had hoped he would have done better.
"That's disappointing," Principal Zatya said, echoing his thoughts without missing a beat. She shook her head. "He's the highest-tiered student in the first-year bracket, all things considered. I expected more."
"Maybe he's still adjusting to his newfound abilities," Rahim replied, reflexively stepping in to defend his student—even though, deep down, he'd thought the same. Andrew had potential, raw and dangerous, but it clearly wasn't fully realized yet.
Zatya gave a low hum, not exactly convinced but willing to let it slide for now. Her attention shifted back to the leaderboard, where three names still flickered in bright silver.
A faint smile touched her lips. "Well, it looks like you were right about the Helsarin heiress after all. If she's this good, why the secrecy? Why keep her abilities hidden all this while?"
"Perhaps she's a private person."
"Secretive, you mean?" Principal Zatya shook her head slowly. "There's a difference between the two, Rahim."
Before Rahim could reply, the arena roared again—cheers, claps, and a few shouts of disbelief.
"What?!" Rahim leaned closer to the screen. "That can't be right. Did Cyrus just eject from the tower?"
"And before the Helsarin, no less." Principal Zatya confirmed the bizarre sight with a grimace, her tone flat. "Oh, he'll be livid when he finds this out."
Contrary to what many might believe, the academy was very aware of any rivalries simmering between the students. In fact, they sometimes took quiet steps to encourage them. Rivalry had its uses. It made the strong stronger. And the rivalry between Aodhán and Cyrus had been carefully, intentionally cultivated. Cyrus needed a wall he couldn't break through on sheer arrogance alone, while Aodhán needed a fierce competitor to keep him on his toes.
It was a delicate system that was in perfect balance…until now.
Ayisha was not an element they had accounted for. She wasn't part of the equation. She wasn't supposed to be. And now her mere participation was threatening to shift the entire structure of the competition.
"This is bad," Rahim muttered, pacing as his mind raced. "How do we manage this?"
"We don't," Zatya said breezily, though Rahim could tell by the gleam in her eye she was already ten steps ahead—calculating, rearranging, setting and pulling strings. He could practically see the wheels in her mind spinning.
"This might be a good thing." She continued nonchalantly.
Rahim paused mid-step. "Good?"
"Mmhmm." She crossed her arms and smirked faintly. "Put a girl into the mix, and suddenly both boys have to take a second look. Aodhán's been too focused on Cyrus, and Cyrus—well, we both know his ego could use the bruising. That leaderboard's been male-dominated for too long. It's about time a girl entered the chat."
Rahim frowned. "What if she takes first?"
"She won't," Zatya said casually, like the outcome was already written in stone. "Even with the handlers secretly tweaking the strength of his constructs to test him, Aodhán is too powerful to lose to her. And Cyrus—well, he could beat her. But that boy's always been too impatient for his own good."
Rahim gave her a look. "So, we're just going to let this play out?"
Principal Zatya didn't respond. She simply smiled and turned her attention back to the screen.
Rahim grimaced. He didn't like the look on her face one bit—but it was her silence that worried him more. That quiet, calculated silence. She was definitely planning something. Something terrible. He could feel it.
True to Principal Zatya's words, Ayisha exited the tower a moment later, nearly drained of life, courtesy of the Medusozoa guarding that floor. She collapsed immediately, and the healers rushed to her aid, while Cyrus stood frozen, eyes locked on the leaderboard in disbelief.
With Ayisha now out, having lasted nearly ten minutes, only Aodhán remained. Rahim couldn't see what was happening inside the tower, but he didn't need to. He knew Aodhán was fighting for his life.
The meddling of handlers wasn't new, especially when it came to extraordinarily talented students like Aodhán and Cyrus. Rahim had experienced it himself back in the day. But with Principal Zatya now taking a more active interest in the interference, he was certain that things had gone far beyond the allowed limits.
Minutes slipped by as Aodhán continued to struggle, and by the ten-minute mark, Rahim's concern had sharpened into worry. He kept his eyes glued to the screen, fingers twitching with unease, waiting for Aodhán to either eject or ascend.
Neither happened.
Thirty more minutes crawled past, and Rahim was practically gnawing his nails off. His pacing had become relentless, and it must have finally gotten to Zatya, because after another ten minutes of no change, she snapped.
"Sit the fuck down, Rahim. Your pacing is giving me a headache."
"You must've made it too hard for him," Rahim shot back, but a glance at Zatya made him rein in his tone. "I'm sorry. It's just… he should've ascended by now."
Zatya glared at the screen for a long moment, then shrugged. "I may have—"
Aodhán ascended to the 28th level, and Rahim nearly collapsed in relief, the roar of excitement and applause from the arena drowning out the sound of his whispered prayer. Despite his semi-formal interactions with Aodhán, he liked the boy a lot and was very invested in his success.
Discarding whatever excuse she had been about to offer, Principal Zatya muttered. "See? I told you he could do it. Now, we just need to make the Burmehien a little more difficult."
Rahim stared at her in disbelief. "Do you have any conscience?"
Zatya snorted. "What I don't have is a spirit of mediocrity. How do you think I became a champion so young?"
She smiled at his baffled expression, lifting her communication chip to her lips to relay new orders to the tower handlers. But just as she was about to speak, the screen shifted again—Aodhán emerged from the tower, putting an abrupt end to her sadistic scheming.
A wave of cheers and wild excitement burst from the arena as his form materialized on stage. The holographic display snapped to life, focusing on him—battered, burned, and drenched in smoke. His entire body was a portrait of raw survival, skin charred and clothes torn, the scent of scorched fabric and ozone likely clinging to him.
Healers sprinted across the field, their steps frantic, almost eager, as if healing him was the highlight of their day.
But Aodhán ignored them all.
Despite his severe injuries, his eyes went straight to the holographic screen as the updated leaderboards flickered into view. Rahim studied his face intently, watching as his expression morphed from disbelief into shock, the weight of a realization settling over him like a storm cloud.
"Oh," Zatya murmured, the dark amusement in her voice unmistakable. "I think he's finally realized it."
She stepped beside Rahim, and even though her tone was light, the subtle pressure of her latent aura sent a shiver crawling down his spine.
Taking a step back, Rahim asked. "Wh... what exactly has he realized?"
Her smile stretched wider, like a predator savoring the moment before the strike. "That strength alone won't keep him at the top. His rivals are multiplying, sharpening their fangs. If he doesn't let me mold him, they'll tear his throne right out from under him."
Rahim shook his head, still amazed by just how twisted the principal could be. Every time he thought he'd seen the worst of her, she found a new way to raise the bar of calculated cruelty. How she hadn't ended up a villain was beyond him. Then again, even as a champion, she'd been one of the most brutal Ragnarok had ever seen.
Sighing, he asked, "And what exactly do you get out of this?"
"Oh, a lot." She snickered—dark, delighted, a little too giddy. "With this realization, maybe he'll finally let me train him without all the complaining, rebelling, and grumbling. He's gotten better, sure, but how's he supposed to become the best version of himself without complete submission? I've been waiting for an excuse to introduce a more… rigorous training regimen. Now? He'll probably throw himself at it before I even have to suggest it."
Rahim exhaled in resignation. The principal's mind was a labyrinth he had no interest in navigating. He still had no idea why Aodhán went along with all of her schemes, and he could only hope he survived her relentless machinations.
Hopefully, she'd get bored before she completely broke him.
Hopefully, when that day came, there'd still be something left to salvage.