The Chronicles of Leafshade [Isekai/LitRPG]

After completing the administrative procedures with the Royal Guard, we had only ten minutes left before noon. Every second felt heavier, the anticipation coiling tightly in my chest. Without hesitation, we moved toward one of the massive iron doors, looming like a gateway to another world.

Instructor Vallen stood before us, her sharp gaze sweeping over each of us, as if committing our faces before we stepped into the unknown. Then, in a firm yet solemn tone, she uttered her parting words.

"May the blessings of the Sacred Forest guide you."

Her voice carried a weight beyond tradition. It was both a farewell and a warning. The Tower was no place for hesitation, weakness, or second thoughts. It was a crucible. One that would either forge us into something stronger, or break us entirely.

"Can't you come with us?" one of the druids asked.

"I can't," Instructor Vallen replied, her voice steady. "I'll be waiting for you in the city."

"Why not? Wouldn't it be easier if you came along?" Fenric chimed in, frowning.

"Did you miss the entire training session?" she shot back, her tone clipped. "Instructors aren't allowed inside the Tower. Helping you in any way is strictly forbidden by Royal decree."

She sounded firm, but I caught the slight tremor beneath her words.

The rules made by the Royal Palace rarely favored anyone who wasn't human. While human races were granted ample time to train and prepare, newborn druids were thrown into the Tower immediately, to meet a quota imposed by the King.

"Go," she said, stepping back as the Royal Guard signaled her away. "You don't have much time."

Orin inhaled sharply beside me. "She makes it sound like we're never coming back."

"She's not wrong," muttered Callen, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. "You've heard the survival rates, right?"

"Can we not talk about survival rates right now?" Sable snapped, her voice a touch too high-pitched to pass as calm. "My stomach's already doing backflips."

"I wish we could form bigger teams," Pica whispered, barely audible.

"Well, if we brought more people, there'd be less loot to go around," Fenric replied curtly. "And don't forget, we still have taxes to pay."

Pica fell silent. No argument there.

One by one, we stepped forward, crossing the threshold into the Tower's domain. As my foot crossed the iron threshold, a familiar yet unsettling sensation gripped me. Just like the Andrheus Rift, this door was more than just an entrance. It was a warp point, a passage that tore through space and transported us into a cruel and merciless realm.

Then, in an instant, the shift was complete.

So… this is the first floor of the Tower.

What I had seen in the game was nothing compared to this. The sheer scale of the place was overwhelming, far larger and far more terrifying than I had ever imagined. The air was sharp and frigid, biting into my skin like unseen daggers.

"Is that… real sky?" I found myself wondering, my gaze drawn upward to a vast, dark expanse instead of a ceiling.

The space we stood in now was not a literal room within the Tower itself, but a boundless magical realm that seemed to stretch on forever, an ethereal representation of the first floor of the Tower of Ascension. It was as if reality itself had shifted, and what I'd once considered a simple chamber had morphed into an expansive world with its own sky, atmosphere, and unspoken rules. The sensation was overwhelming, and for a moment, I almost forgot where I was, lost in the grandeur and mystery of this enchanted domain.

"Incredible, isn't it? But also terrifying," Orin whispered beside me.

She wasn't the only one unsettled. The other young druids shifted uneasily, whispering in hushed voices. Their expressions mirrored my own unease, their breath visible in the icy air.

"Ugh..." someone muttered nearby, their voice shaky. "Can I just go back?"

"Hey, don't let the Royal Guard hear you say that," another druid hissed, glancing around nervously. "You want to get caught?"

"Honestly? Sounds much better than being eaten by a monster," came the reply.

"Don't say that!" a third one snapped. "Besides, once you enter the Tower, there's no going back. You have to wait until it closes.

I heard their murmurs, but I had no time to indulge in their fears or their company.

Stolen novel; please report.

I distanced myself from the others, brushing off yet another team-up offer I'd already rejected more times than I could count. In the Tower, time was everything. Every second wasted was a lost opportunity, and I refused to let anything slow me down.

Upon entering the Tower, adventurers are always transported to the center of the first floor, the Safe Zone. The exact location was determined by the door they entered. Here, tens of thousands of adventurers bustled about, preparing for their ascent. Among them, the ever-present Royal Guards stood watch, their imposing figures a constant reminder that even within the Safe Zone, order was maintained with an iron grip.

No monsters roamed this area. But beyond the Safe Zone, the Tower's true nature awaited.

The first floor was divided into four massive regions: Northern Glades, Gravehollow, Deepnest Tunnel, and Redridge Range. Each had its own unique terrain, dangers, and difficulty levels. Deepnest Tunnel was widely considered the easiest path, a place where even a lone adventurer had a fair chance of survival.

Unfortunately, I didn't have the luxury of taking the easy route.

My path lay to the east. To a zone far too dangerous for a solo adventurer. And yet, that was exactly where I needed to go.

***

It had been an hour since I set foot on this narrow, winding trail. Instead of taking the main road, where adventurers often traveled in groups, I had deliberately chosen an alternate route through the Gnashfang Warrens, a treacherous, rocky path that wound through dense undergrowth and jagged cliffs. The reason was simple: during daylight hours, this route had the lowest monster spawn rate in the entire Redridge Range. But that didn't mean it was safe.

A vast, untamed expanse of jagged cliffs, dense woodlands, and scorched valleys stretched endlessly before me. The very air was thick with primal energy, carrying the scent of damp earth, smoldering wood, and the musky odor of countless beasts prowling the wild. Towering crimson-hued mountains loomed over the landscape, their mist-cloaked peaks casting ominous shadows over the battle-scarred terrain.

This was Redridge Range, a land notorious for being the breeding ground of beast monsters such as Borgoth, Hoblins, and Gnolls. Vicious and territorial, these creatures usually moved in groups, constantly warring over dominance and hunting grounds. To set foot here alone was to invite death.

Swoosh!

A sudden, razor-sharp whistle sliced through the air.

Pain flared in my ear. I winced, instinctively ducking low, my body reacting faster than my thoughts. A sharp sensation grazed the edge of my ear, narrowly missing but close enough to set my heart pounding.

The pain was real.

My body trembled uncontrollably. Fear crept in, not from the pain itself, but from having long grown accustomed to it. What truly terrified me was that, in this world, the line between life and death was terrifyingly thin.

I clenched my fists, trying to steady my breath. Stay calm. Focus. My breath hitched as I scanned the shadows, my senses sharpening.

Then, from the darkness, came a high-pitched, staccato cackle. Harsh, guttural, and unnervingly inhuman.

A Gnoll Archer.

I gulped. My throat felt dry. The first shot wasn't a warning. It was a test.

And the next one would hardly miss.

Gnolls are sadistic raiders who revel in torment and slaughter. With their wiry, hyena-like bodies and jagged teeth, they take pleasure in hunting for sport rather than survival. Many of their kind are found wearing scavenged armor, adorned with bones and trinkets taken from their victims.

Fortunately, Gnoll Archers were the weakest among their kind. But that didn't mean I could let my guard down.

Instead of traditional bows, these creatures wielded tiny, crude blowguns, crafted from bones and wrapped in strips of leather. Their projectiles were far smaller than standard arrows, but what they lacked in size, they made up for in lethality, as each dart was coated in poison.

I could already feel the toxin spreading through my veins, a creeping numbness crawling from the tip of my ear down to my shoulder. My breathing grew ragged. I didn't have much time before the poison started impairing my movements.

"Good thing I was ready for this," I muttered, gritting my teeth.

I channeled Mana into my staff, whispering the incantation for Rejuvenation. A soft green light pulsed around me, its warmth purging the poison before it could take full effect. Relief washed over me, but I had no time to linger. I immediately retaliated, thrusting my staff forward and launching a burst of energy toward the Gnoll.

The attack landed, but the impact was disappointing.

It barely staggered the creature. The Gnoll snarled, its beady yellow eyes locking onto me with renewed aggression. Druids really aren't suited for combat. Even swinging my staff a few times felt exhausting. My strength was abysmal, less than five, if I had to estimate.

"This damned weak body," I muttered in frustration.

I refused to back down. I adapted my strategy by baiting its attacks, dodging at the last second, and counterattacking whenever an opening appeared. If I took a hit, I immediately retreated and healed myself with Rejuvenation before re-engaging.

Five minutes passed.

Ten minutes.

Fifteen minutes.

Before I knew it, I had been locked in this grueling fight for nearly half an hour. My breathing had grown heavy, my arms ached from repeated spellcasting, and my Mana reserves were dangerously low, with only 25% left, by my calculations.

Tsk. I need to finish this as soon as possible.

Unlike other races, druids relied on Mana for even basic attacks. That was one of our greatest weaknesses. While humans and elves could replenish their energy with potions, druids had no such luxury. Our Mana wasn't just a resource. It was a direct extension of natural energy, something that couldn't simply be restored with an artificial remedy.

That meant I had to conserve every drop I had left.

Which also meant one thing. I could no longer afford to use Rejuvenation.