Tyrant's return: Reborn as a Good-For-Nothing Young Master

Word spread fast. Fenrir Black had returned, and with him came chaos.

Across the tower, the news traveled floor by floor—cities ablaze, guards slaughtered, generals defeated.

His name wasn't just whispered in fear anymore; it was shouted in fury, broadcasted in warning.

The Divine Council issued orders to capture or kill him, but it was already too late for that. Fenrir wasn't hiding. He was tearing through each floor with brutal efficiency.

And in the middle of it all, the humans—regular, powerless climbers—suffered.

On Floor 7, Kevin limped out of a bakery, holding a bruised arm.

The shopkeeper had accused him of "conspiring with the human destroyer" and thrown him out. It wasn't the first time today.

People glared at him in the streets, muttered curses under their breath, spat at his feet.

A week ago, he was just another mid-tier climber trying to gather resources. Now, he was a symbol of a threat—just because he was human like Fenrir.

The others in his group weren't doing any better. They were pushed aside in queues, denied basic items in stores, and harassed at inns.

The already tense relationship between humans and other species in the tower had only worsened with every floor Fenrir conquered.

Back at their temporary shelter, Kevin sat on a broken crate, nursing his swelling arm. His comm crystal buzzed.

[Fenrir Black - Incoming Call]

Kevin stared at the glowing name, conflicted. Then he answered.

"I was wondering when you'd call."

Kevin muttered, his tone mixed with annoyance and worry.

Fenrir's voice came through, sharp and calm.

"Kevin. Listen carefully. Get the humans out."

Kevin frowned.

"What?"

"You heard me. Take them outside the tower. If they stay, they'll be caught in what's coming."

"You mean the war?"

Kevin's voice lowered, his eyes scanning the dim street outside.

"You're actually planning to go through with it?"

"I'm not planning anything. I'm finishing what was started long before either of us got involved."

Fenrir said.

"You know they're blaming us, right? Humans. Because of you, we can't even buy bread without getting punched."

Kevin snapped.

Fenrir didn't respond right away. When he did, it was with that cold detachment Kevin had come to expect.

"I warned them. I gave them time. They still chose the Council over their own kind. Now I'll tear it all down."

"Why, Fenrir? You used to be just a powerless brat in a school full of monsters. Now look at you. You're starting a war you might not even survive. Why?"

Kevin asked, voice quieter.

There was silence.

Then, unexpectedly, a loud laugh echoed through the crystal. Fenrir's voice carried that same arrogance Kevin had always hated and admired.

"You're worried about me? You're the last person who should be worried. I'm not the one in danger here."

Fenrir said, amusement in his tone.

Kevin frowned again.

"You're crazy."

"No. I'm awake. The rest of them—Council, floor rulers, those false gods—they're about to find out what it means to cross me. But the humans? They don't belong in this war. They'll die for nothing if they stay."

"…So you're telling me to run away?"

"I'm telling you to lead. Get them out. Go down to Floor 1. Escape to the Outer Rim. Let the tower burn while I settle the score."

Kevin gritted his teeth. It felt like betrayal. Like abandonment. But deep down, he knew Fenrir wasn't wrong.

This tower wasn't safe anymore. Not for people like them.

Kevin sighed and leaned back against the wall.

"Fine. I'll guide them out. But what about you?"

Fenrir's voice grew cold.

"I'm going to finish what they started."

Kevin closed the call, staring at the now dark crystal. The others gathered around him, waiting for instructions.

"We're leaving. Pack what you can. We're heading out."

He said finally.

"Where? There's no safe place left."

One of them asked.

Kevin looked up at the dark ceiling of the floor above, and beyond that, more floors, more chaos.

"Outside the tower."

He muttered.

And as the humans began preparing their escape, far above them, the storm continued to grow—driven by a human who had once been one of them.

Now, he was their final warning.

Kevin stood in front of the gathered group of humans, his face serious, his voice firm.

"We're leaving. Back to the outside. It's not safe here anymore."

He said.

A wave of protest immediately rose around him.

"What do you mean, leave?"

"We've climbed so far!"

"Just because Fenrir's causing chaos doesn't mean we should run!"

Kevin raised his hand, quieting them.

"I get it. I know we've all worked hard to climb. But look around you. Look at the way they treat us now."

He said.

He gestured to the bruises, the torn clothing, the scared expressions on their faces.

"Every step we take, we're watched. Every word we speak, we're judged. We can't get food, we can't rest, we can't exist without being hated. That's not climbing. That's surviving."

The group looked around uneasily. They had all felt it—the tension, the resentment, the hostility.

One of the younger climbers, a girl with cracked glasses, mumbled.

"Even the healers turned me away yesterday."

Kevin nodded grimly.

"They don't want us here anymore. Not while Fenrir is still rampaging through the tower. So unless you want to die for something you didn't do, we go."

There was silence for a long moment. Then slowly, one by one, the group began to nod. Bags were packed quickly, and they headed for the main exit of the tower. It was a long, quiet walk down.

As the last of them stepped outside, the tower gave a low, humming noise. The massive gates slid shut with a metallic clang, and a red light flashed above the archway.

[Tower Access Suspended – Standby Mode Engaged]

Kevin's eyes widened.

"It locked down…"

The humans gathered behind him, murmuring in shock. They had gotten out just in time.

Kevin exhaled, feeling a chill run down his spine.

"If we had waited even a minute longer…"

He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to.

Far above, on Floor 14, Shelly looked at Fenrir with narrowed eyes.

"You've gotten soft. You actually warned them. Since when do you care if humans live or die?"

She said, folding her arms.

Fenrir didn't meet her gaze. He stared at the horizon, his eyes cold.

"It's a precaution."

He said simply.

Shelly scoffed.

"You? Taking precautions? Don't lie to me, Fenrir. That's not how you used to be."

He didn't answer. He didn't need to.

Somewhere deep inside, a sliver of the old him—the one who once stood powerless among giants—still remembered what it felt like to be weak and ignored.

And for once, he acted before it was too late.

Shelly stared at Fenrir for a few more seconds, then turned away with a scoff.

"You're not the same demon we used to follow."

"Maybe not. But I still remember what it means to lose everything."

Fenrir replied, his voice low.

Zerg, who had been silently listening, gave a grunt.

"You did the right thing, Fenrir. This war's going to be ugly. No reason to drag the innocent into it."

Fenrir gave a faint nod.

"They were just caught in the crossfire. It's not their war to fight."

Shelly muttered.

"Let's just hope they stay out of it."

And the three continued forward.