Return of the Woodcutter

One hour later. 

Aito opened his eyes to his body still soaked in his bathtub. Although the two recovery beads' healing effect was still active, his injuries were more or less healed. 

Most of his blisters have disappeared. His spots of swollen red skin were now almost back to normal, albeit with one detail.

His skin, having been in contact with water for too long, was akin to an old man's. A common phenomenon happening if one stayed several minutes in the water. 

It'd go away in less than an hour for him, anyway. 

He'd leave weird skin issue anxiousness aside; it was truly a pointless topic to think about. Only those trying to blend in with the masses and try to please others by following the common standards of beauty would do that. 

Useless to him. He cared little about what others thought of his appearance, at least his current self did. 

In the past, before his depression, he had used his father's money to take care of himself. Going to the hairdresser at least once a month, if not twice. Buying multiple skin products he'd apply on himself in his daily skincare routine. Keep track of what he ate to avoid any negative impact on his body. Dress as well as possible by following the fashion trends. 

Now, all those things seemed so pointless, useless, unproductive. The fashion trends he had known were nowhere to be found, anyway.

In the Tower, if you wanted to take care of your skin, a good beating followed by recovery beads was the best skincare routine possible, since one would get a stronger body, thus a stronger skin. 

Also, why would those things matter now that he had revived, transmigrated elsewhere, which was apparently in a god's soul? 

How could caring about his wrinkled skin prevent death? 

No, his mind was preoccupied by a much more urging topic at the moment. 

How were they going to escape? 

'We are fucking trapped,' he thought, analyzing their situation. 'Coming here only delays the confrontation. Thankfully, we had recovery beads to heal our injuries since the room's instantaneous healing effects only take place after CDs, during sleep. Since we're still early in the day, we would have to wait at least eight more hours. No can do. Waiting for too long is out of the question.'

If they were to wait maybe one more hour, the enemy would have fully recovered. Why? First, because of the recovery beads available to them, of course. It was something he came to realize during his rest. 

Second, because there could be reinforcement coming back from the fourth or fifth floor. Aito imagined they were originally busy killing goblins and hobgoblins. 

So taking into account that variable, plus the distance, the time to send a message and then gather the troops, he estimated their arrival to be in two hours. A vague estimation. He could be wrong, but he sure hoped he wasn't. 

The longer they spent in this room, the more likely there would be reinforcement. Other challengers probably wouldn't dare interfere either. They would presumably stand on the side, in search of entertainment with curious looks or making bets. Aito couldn't blame them, though. If he were in their place, he'd certainly close his eyes on the matter and stick to his own business.

'Hum, they have probably already surrounded the black corner.' Aito thought, 'Awaiting for our arrival. My armor set is still wearable. With my current physical level and skills, I should be fine. Probably. The issue is, Ogoro and Sheyla.' 

There were two problems with them.

To begin with, they lacked gears. Ogoro had lost his sword during the battle and most of his armor parts were either burnt or turned to rags, or both.

Sheyla was armed with a long sword, but it didn't suit her as much as a bow. She had the basic necessity in terms of defenses. Although she had suffered cuts and a few burns, her leather armor remained usable for the most part. According to what he had seen when she came talking to him, at least. 

Also, most importantly, those two were classless. Meaning they had not unlocked their full potential as challengers because they had yet to form a soul core. 

Aito wondered what classes they would have if they had accepted the gods' offer of eternal slavery. 

Judging by their fighting performances and from what he knew of their personality so far, he could guess that Sheyla would have become an Archer class challenger. 

As for Ogoro, judging by his sword mastery, Aito was ready to bet his entire armor set that the grey-haired man would have become a warrior class like him. That was certain. As certain as he was called Aito Walker. As certain as Jack's ability to produce many feces per day.

Aito turned towards the inventory bag where he kept the candle with a few mana cores and thought about using this peculiar item on the siblings. 

At this point, he barely had any other choice but to grant them a level. At least if he wanted to increase their chances of getting out of here alive. 

He could leave them as they were. Mere level 0 challengers. However, why would he do something so pointless? 

Aito had already planned on using the candle on Ogoro to climb the Tower with him, anyway. 

Well, there was also Sheyla. He had been reluctant on using it on her at first because of his dislike of the woman. Now… somehow, he had a more neutral opinion of her. His reluctance had lessened quite a bit. Not entirely, though. 

But seeing how Ogoro had those kinds of weird onii-chan vibes to him, he might not accept to follow Aito if Sheyla wasn't included in the group to climb the Tower.

Taking into account all those reasons, he came to the conclusion that granting Sheyla a class, under the condition she'd climb with him, was the most reasonable course of action to take. 

Of course, the same condition applied to her onii-chan. 

'Alright, let's get to work.' He thought, exiting his bath. 

***

After laying out his armor set to dry, and putting his wet clothes into the drier, Aito joined the siblings currently resting in the living room on one of the two luxurious black leather couches. 

He sat on the couch in front of them, making sure the black bathrobe he was wearing did not impede his movement, comfort or simply revealed too much of his private parts to avoid scaring the lady with his mighty ax shaft. 

'Wow… I forgot how comfortable it was to sit here.' He thought, nestling in his sit, supporting himself in a relaxed manner with the armrest to his side. Now that he was clean and almost entirely healed, a peculiar aura akin to a leader's emanated from him. 

A wolf's pack alpha. 

Not the kind described in… certain romance books with a shitload of testosterone that would make gullible teenage girls fall head over the hill for him. 

No, it was more than a weird excess of testosterones. 

It was the aura of someone who had earned his powers through hard work... and a cheat.