A guild Head?

Nasar knew what it meant, but he still stood to one side to collect his thoughts. The people around the corridor raised their heads to look at him for a short moment before turning away. A few didn't even look his way.

He went inside, but as soon as he walked through the door, he was met by another crowd of people lying on the bare ground all over the place.

He had to walk on carefully to avoid them. In a room, he saw people sitting on chairs and mats playing cards. Some of them glanced at him before going on with whatever they were doing.

"..." Nasar opened his mouth to speak as the new guild Head but eventually closed it.

A moment later, a girl took hold of his hand. "Are you the new guild Head sent by Mother?" She asked.

Nasar nodded albeit hesitantly.

"Welcome, leader." The girl smiled. "Let me show you to your office."

Nasar looked at the girl suspiciously. She couldn't be more than thirteen or fourteen. Her eyes were big while her hair was dark and cropped short. She wore a tight black dress and white pants.

Nasar turned to take a last look at the people playing cards before he followed the girl. If this was the same Hermes guild he knew from ten years back, then he knew what was wrong with all those people lying about. And he knew why nobody cared about them.

But first, he had to find a place to seclude himself and think about why he was there and what he would do about it.

"You are the eighth this month," said the girl, ticking it off her fingers as she spoke.

"The eighth?" Nasar looked at her uncomprehendingly.

"The eighth Head of our Guild appointed by Mother," she said. "They all left before a week. Some said we are hexed. Haha..." She laughed as though she found this amusing.

Eight Heads? In just one month? There had been four in three weeks but never was there seven in a month before.

"What day is it?" He asked. He wanted to know if he'd lost any time while unconscious.

The girl stopped in her tracks and gave him a hesitant look. "Are you alright?"

Nasar frowned. She was probably thinking he was also sick like the others outside.

"I'm fine. Answer the question."

"Wednesday, 14th. Year 541AT. Are you sure you are fine?"

He ignored the last question and focused on the date. If it was the 14th, then he was killed just yesterday and he didn't lose much time while being unconscious. That was the first good news ever since he woke up.

"Where is the office?"

The girl leaped in front of a room on the right. The door was wide opened and Nasar could see what was inside.

"Here." She pointed to the room.

Nasar walked in without a word. He could hear the girl wishing him a long stay as the Head of the guild. But her tone was teasing and almost sarcastic.

The room was not half the size of the lowliest ranked office on the fifth floor, where Nasar came from. It was also bare except for the three metallic chairs and a wooden table.

Everything was so dusty that he began to wonder how long the office had been without anyone using it. Two closed doors adjoined the office from the left and one other from the right.

He took a chair and sat without dusting it, and thought about all the things that had happened in the past few days.

A day before yesterday, Mercellius had announced an 'important' meeting that would take place in the guild's throne room. They were to discuss how to go up the sixth floor in a few months. Nasar had another problem to discuss with his brother, so he arrived early.

He met Amsterm sitting on Mercellius' throne. The guild's members no longer respected his brother and that had always enraged him. He wanted to severely punish Amsterm for his transgression. But everything turned out to be a plan to take his life.

Mercellius, Amsterm, and Diana, had succeeded in killing him.

He couldn't explain how he survived and found himself on the first floor, and as the Head of the infamous Hermes guild.

Was he to rejoice or weep? He had descended from the fifth to the first floor. And as if that wasn't bad enough, he had to be the Head of Hermes guild despite the horde of guilds on the first floor in need of a guild leader. There was a reason Hermes was dubbed the worst guild in the tower.

Nasar sighed. He was grateful for being alive, but he was still curious. Even if some backhanded luck saved him from eviction and death, he should have returned to the fifth floor. What brought him back to the first floor?

After some thought, Nasar decided that this was an opportunity - a second chance. Despite being the smallest floor, and Hermes being the worst guild one could ever find himself in, he decided it was better than being evicted altogether. He still had the chance to reach the seventh floor and find a cure for his mother.

And he was the Head now. He would build Hermes guild and use it to ascend the seventh floor.

"I won't just let this go, Dark Elven."

He would have his revenge and find the cure. He would use his experience and skills to ascend the tower in the fastest and most efficient way possible.

He checked his inventory. He'd money and many powerful stones that he accumulated over the years. If he could use them...

'Inventory.'

<Your inventory is empty>

Nasar frowned before he laughed bitterly. He had escaped with his life, but nothing else.

'Status.'

<Name: Nasar Zoom>
<Post: Head of Hermes guild>
<Power level: 1>
<Lifespan (tower): 32 days>
<Strength: 1>
<Speed: 1>
<Constitution: 1>
<HP: 100/100>
<Unused power stones: none>

Everything had reset to its initial value, just like when he first entered the tower. His entire twelve years were gone and the only thing he had was his experience and the expertise that depended on his memory.

'Classification.'

<Class: Sword of Truth (0/100)>
<Skill available: none>
<Weapon: sword. Use Sword? Yes/No?>

Nasar frowned at that. His class had changed from the one he used for the past twelve years to a new one called Sword of Truth. The name wasn't strange to him. It was his twelfth specialization skill. He remembered Diana advising him against choosing the skill, and when it turned out to be a 'blank skill' with no apparent use, Diana criticized him for days on end.

Was it just a shared name between the class and the specialization skill, or was it the same skill that turned into his new classification?

And every class came with at least one skill, but this one didn't come with any. And not a single information to acquaint him of what to expect. Just like when he first chose it during specialization.

He pressed 'yes' on the weapon panel.

<Sword of Truth has been stored in your inventory>

He opened his inventory and brought out a short sword. The blade was bright and polished. Its size, width, and weight were of most swords from the marketplace. Nothing extraordinary.

He swung it from side to side but didn't feel anything special. After a few more fruitless attempts, he returned it to the inventory.

First, he needed to return to the fifth floor... no, he needed to ascend the seventh floor. He would need a guild to do that. He, therefore, had to make Hermes better, transform and reset it.

It wouldn't be long before Mercellius would become aware he was still alive, and when he did, he would do anything to kill him. But this time, Nasar would be ready for him. No one would sneak behind him again.

He left the office and walked to the front of the house. He would first address the people strewn all over the place and cut down the grasses that plagued the building and made it look abandoned.

He picked up a young woman and sat her down. Her eyes were shut and her body was rigid as though she were dead. But her chest still rose and fell. She was breathing, somehow.

"Hey, wake up, wake up." He shook her body.

After five minutes and the woman didn't respond, Nasar went to the next person - a young man, black complexioned with a cap on his head. He did all he could to wake him up, but the man didn't stir.

He moved on to the next, and that was when a middle-aged man carrying a pitcher of water reached him.

He stared at Nasar before he sighed and shook his head. "They won't wake up, you know," he said. "We already tried everything ever since they were brought in."

"Are you the one feeding them?" Nasar asked, ignoring the man's remark and pointing to the pitcher in his hands.

The man nodded and kept the pitcher aside. He moved to where Nasar stood and offered his hand. "Whige."

"Nasar." He shook his hand. "Help me examine them. We may still find some who are not so far gone."