the Tower Seen But Never Claimed

They had already stepped into the real world.

Already learned the weight of gravity.

Already tasted limitation.

Already accepted routine.

And boredom.

That quiet, creeping boredom that came not from suffering…

But from repetition.

Morning.

Commute.

Work.

Return home.

Sleep.

Repeat.

No magic.

No cultivation breakthroughs.

No cosmic wars.

No grand narratives.

Just existence.

For ordinary humans, this was life.

For beings who once balanced infinities…

It slowly became unbearable.

The Proposal No One Announced

It happened gradually.

No dramatic meeting.

No grand declaration.

Just small comments over weeks.

Rimuru:

“There’s potential here… but no catalyst.”

Anos:

“Civilization stagnates without challenge.”

Featherine:

“Stories fade when conflict disappears.”

Veldanava:

“Creation requires momentum.”

Yogiri:

“…Endings shouldn’t feel like pauses.”

Wang Ling:

“…And life needs spice.”

Eventually, the idea crystallized.

A tower.

Not conquest.

Not domination.

Just opportunity.

The Rule Came First

Before design.

Before structure.

Before power systems.

A single rule.

Strict.

Non-negotiable.

Only those below legal adulthood could enter.

Children.

Teenagers.

Youth standing at the edge of possibility.

“Adults already calcify,” Featherine explained quietly.

“Too many assumptions.”

Rimuru nodded.

“Young minds adapt faster.”

Anos added:

“Growth potential highest before complacency.”

Veldanava simply said:

“The future belongs to them.”

Yogiri didn’t object.

Wang Ling just murmured:

“…Also less paperwork.”

Thus the tower would belong to the next generation.

Not the established one.

Sending It Into Time

Creation alone wasn’t enough.

If it simply appeared, panic would follow.

Rejection.

Fear.

Possibly war.

So they repeated Veldanava’s earlier method.

They cast the tower’s seed into the River of Time.

Letting it drift backward.

Collecting legends.

Absorbing forgotten myths.

Accumulating narrative gravity.

Past heroes sensed it in dreams.

Ancient warriors glimpsed it before death.

Cultivators meditating on remote peaks felt distant echoes.

Dragons in primordial skies saw its shadow briefly.

Their impressions crystallized.

Not as gods

Not rulers.

But as watchers.

Symbols.

Stories observing newer stories.

They became something like…

Constellations.

The Star Current

No one called it that initially.

Humans simply noticed a strange phenomenon.

When someone entered the tower…

Occasionally invisible messages appeared in their minds.

Encouragement.

Warnings.

Sarcastic commentary.

Sometimes outright mockery.

The watchers communicated through a mysterious informational flow.

Scholars later dubbed it:

The Star Current.

Not divine.

Not magical in the traditional sense.

More like narrative resonance.

Stories acknowledging stories.

And those watchers?

They loved observing.

Almost too much.

The Six Refuse Constellation Status

Despite creating the system…

The six declined becoming official watchers.

No thrones.

No titles publicly acknowledged.

No visible constellation seats.

They chose anonymity.

Observers behind observers.

Spectators of spectators.

Reasons varied.

Rimuru: Didn’t want responsibility again.

Anos: Found recognition unnecessary.

Veldanava: Felt guilty about past creations.

Featherine: Preferred editing quietly.

Yogiri: Less attention meant fewer complications.

Wang Ling: Titles sounded exhausting.

Yet…

They still interacted.

Frequently.

Sometimes excessively.

Their Unofficial Titles

Because even hidden observers needed identifiers.

The Star Current labeled them unofficially:

Rimuru — The Blue Blob

Anos — The Misfit

Veldanava — The Irresponsible Dad

Featherine — The Writer

Yogiri — The One Word Ender

Wang Ling — Lover Of Crispy Noodles

No one knew who they were.

Not incarnations.

Not other watchers.

Not even advanced constellations.

Only those playful titles existed.

The Tower Appears (Again Quietly)

Mist near a river.

A structure emerging gradually.

Stone that wasn’t stone.

Light that wasn’t light.

Height impossible to measure.

Floors infinite.

Entry simple.

Just intent.

And youth.

Adults approaching felt gentle resistance.

Not forceful.

Just firm.

Governments panicked briefly.

Then realized:

They couldn’t stop it.

And children entering returned… changed.

Stronger.

More confident.

Sometimes carrying strange abilities.

But never hostile.

Fear softened.

Curiosity replaced it.

Inside the Tower

Structure resembled an endless labyrinth.

But vertical.

Floors varied wildly:

Forests.

Ruins.

Cultivation arenas.

Skill testing grounds.

Philosophical puzzle chambers.

Even mundane simulation cities.

Power system blended two traditions:

Skill Evolution:

Abilities born from experience, adaptation, survival.

Cultivation Refinement:

Internal energy growth through discipline and insight.

Balanced progression yielded best results.

Excess of either caused stagnation.

Races from other dimensions entered too.

Demons.

Angels.

Elves.

Dwarves.

Dragons.

Beastkin.

Peaceful coexistence wasn’t guaranteed.

But tower environments discouraged genocide.

Conflict taught lessons.

Annihilation was prevented subtly.

Usually by Yogiri.

Without anyone noticing.

The Six Can’t Stop Talking

Despite choosing anonymity…

They chatted constantly through the Star Current.

Especially when interesting incarnations appeared.

Example:

The Blue Blob:

“Kid with the spear has potential.”

The Misfit:

“Form inefficient. Footwork weak.”

The Writer:

“Narrative arc promising.”

The Irresponsible Dad:

“He reminds me of someone.”

The One Word Ender:

“Clumsy.”

Lover Of Crispy Noodles:

“…Does he eat properly?”

Other constellations watched these exchanges with fascination.

And confusion.

Because normally, Star Current rules prevented excessive interference.

Yet these six bypassed restrictions effortlessly.

Constellation Reactions

Some found them annoying.

“These unknown observers talk too much.”

Others found them hilarious.

“They argue like siblings.”

Some grew suspicious.

“How are they bypassing intervention limits?”

No answer emerged.

Even the Star Current itself seemed unable to restrict them fully.

Incarnations Notice… Slightly

Young climbers occasionally sensed messages:

Encouragement.

Sarcasm.

Conflicting advice.

One incarnation once asked:

“Who are you people?”

Response arrived instantly:

The Blue Blob: “Friendly neighborhood observer.”

The Misfit: “Irrelevant.”

The Writer: “Narrative support staff.”

The Irresponsible Dad: “Just passing through.”

The One Word Ender: “…No one.”

Lover Of Crispy Noodles: “Hungry.”

Confusion increased.

Their Bickering Becomes Entertainment

Entire constellation gatherings sometimes paused to watch.

Not battles.

Not prophecies.

Just the six arguing.

About training methods.

Story pacing.

Food preferences.

Moral philosophy.

Even serious ancient constellations occasionally chuckled.

“They’re absurdly powerful… yet ridiculously casual.”

Curiosity intensified.

Identity remained unknown.

Why They Interacted Anyway

Despite choosing anonymity…

They cared.

Quietly.

Without claiming ownership.

Rimuru liked seeing growth.

Anos respected effort.

Featherine loved unfolding narratives.

Veldanava wanted redemption through guidance.

Yogiri preferred preventing tragic endings.

Wang Ling simply enjoyed watching people enjoy life.

Interacting made existence interesting again.

Not overwhelming.

Just engaging.

The Real World Changes Slowly

No apocalypse.

No societal collapse.

Just gradual transformation.

Stronger youth.

More cultural exchange.

Less existential boredom.

More ambition.

Adults initially resented exclusion.

Eventually understood.

The tower wasn’t theirs.

It belonged forward.

Not backward.

Final Quiet Observation

One evening…

All six observed a group of teenagers laughing after surviving a difficult floor.

No grand victory.

Just relief.

Friendship.

Hope.

Rimuru spoke softly:

“This feels better than winning cosmic battles.”

Anos nodded.

“Because it isn’t about us.”

Featherine smiled.

“Best stories rarely center the author.”

Veldanava:

“Creation continues.”

Yogiri:

“No ending necessary.”

Wang Ling:

“…Also they’re ordering noodles.”

Silence followed.

Comfortable this time.

They remained unseen.

Uncredited.

Unknown.

Yet constantly present.

Observers who refused worship.

Creators who refused recognition.

Spectators enjoying growth they once lacked.

And somewhere…

A reader still turned pages.

Watching the tower.

Watching the youth climb.

Watching six anonymous observers bicker endlessly while pretending not to care.

The tower stood.

Infinite.

Patient.

Full of stories.

And the six…

Finally satisfied being background characters.

At least for now.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***