The climb to the tenth floor began to exact a silent and invisible price that none of us could have predicted merely by looking at the polished stone structure of the steps. As we surpassed the mark of the ninth level and approached the end of the tower's second cycle, the atmosphere around us became physically thick. The air, once fresh and invigorating within the boundaries of the Second Sanctuary, now seemed charged with an invisible mystical dust, a dense and purplish miasma that glowed almost imperceptibly beneath the constant light generated by Lyannis's runic staff.
It was not a targeted attack or a mechanical trap that we could avoid with physical agility. It was the very essence of the demonic mana that sustained the tower's existence, which now seemed to actively penetrate our energy channels with every slow breath.
"My legs are considerably heavier," commented Scarlet, stopping for a brief moment halfway up a long stone ramp to adjust the position of her light iron breastplate. She released a long sigh, and the vapor that escaped her lips displayed a subtle grayish tint in the gloom. "It is not ordinary muscular fatigue from walking. It is as if the mystical gravity of this floor were trying to pull my own internal mana flow toward the ground."
"It is not physical gravity, Scarlet," explained Liriel's assistant, who was already taking quick measurements with her active runic clipboard, although her own hands showed a slight tremor of fatigue. "The density of demonic mana at this altitude of the tower has increased by more than one hundred and fifty percent. The atmosphere is actively suppressing our passive regeneration capacity and forcing our bodies to expend more energy just to keep basic biological functions operating stably."
Liriel subtly moved forward in the formation, opening her tome of sacred prayers and extending her right hand over Scarlet's chest to channel a small prayer of restoration and physical relief. However, the instant the warm golden light of sacred magic took shape around Liriel's fingers, the spell fluctuated abruptly, dissipating into the cold air like a candle flame beneath a strong gust of wind, before it could even touch Scarlet's armor.
Liriel's usually serene expression transformed into a look of extreme concern and analytical focus. She looked at the palms of her own hands, watching the remnants of the golden particles being rapidly swallowed by the purplish mist of the corridor.
"My purification and healing spells are losing their effectiveness drastically," she reported in a calm voice, but one filled with an unyielding seriousness that made us stop immediately in the transition corridor. "The miasma of this level acts as an active interference barrier against light magic. To cast the same basic spell I used on the first floors, I now need to spend three times my mana reserve and maintain much greater mental concentration. If we continue advancing without caution, we will run out of medical energy within a few hours of active combat."
Liriel's revelation confirmed with millimetric precision the report that the researcher adventurer had presented during our council at the mansion before departure. The tower was not merely a physical labyrinth populated by monsters of stone and iron; it was a hostile ecosystem specifically designed to suffocate the magic of the outside world, transforming any small physical injury or biological exhaustion into a slow and cumulative death sentence as we approached the upper floors.
"This is the true beginning of the suppression zone," I commented, keeping my mind cold and analytical as I evaluated the options available on our tactical board. "The Demon King knows that our greatest strength lies in our synergy and our ability to recover quickly from confrontations. By limiting the effectiveness of our healing, he is trying to force us to play on extreme defense, which will increase the exposure time of our bodies to this corrosive atmosphere."
"And what will we do now, Takumi?" asked Elara, keeping her eyes focused on the darkness of the corridor ahead while her hands firmly held the bow. "If we cannot fully rely on Liriel's magic, any individual tactical positioning mistake against the next monsters will be fatal."
"We will change our combat approach permanently," I replied, looking into the eyes of each of my companions to convey the absolute certainty I felt in my own chest. "From this moment on, our battle tactics will no longer be based on exchanging blows or the physical resistance of our armor. We will fight with absolute focus on perfect evasion and instantaneous neutralization. If the enemy cannot touch our lines, we will not need to spend a single drop of healing magic. Every vanguard movement by Scarlet and Rai'kanna must be coordinated to divert and incapacitate the targets before they can launch counterattacks."
The need to adapt to such a severe healing suppression rule brought a profound reflection on the very fragility of our physical existence in that place. In my youth, before the digital screens of virtual games, the characters' health bar was merely an abstract number that regenerated instantly with the press of a button or the use of an inventory item. But here, within the spatial folds of that colossal tower, every heavy breath and every drop of sweat were real. The danger of losing a companion to the demonic miasma was not a game statistic, but a reality that demanded the utmost lucidity and tactical responsibility from me as the expedition leader.
However, instead of allowing fear or doubt to paralyze our decisions, I felt a deep wave of determination solidify within me. The fact that the tower was increasing the mystical pressure upon us was conclusive proof that our advance was disturbing the creator. The Demon King would not resort to such a severe suppression mechanism if his legions of monsters were truly capable of containing our squad in direct combat. Mana suppression was the resource of an opponent who was beginning to lose control over his own chessboard.
"He is trying to suffocate us because he is afraid of our efficiency," I commented in a low voice, allowing a subtle corner smile to appear on my face, which helped ease the visible tension on the faces of Lyannis and Vespera. "If he wants to play with active mana suppression rules, we will show him that human intelligence can overcome the limitations of the physical body itself through pure coordination."
"I completely agree," said Rai'kanna, rising from her resting posture and adjusting the precision-cut daggers in her hands with a gleam of feline determination in her yellow eyes. "My agility does not depend on active mana, Takumi. My physical body is ready to move faster than the perception of those monsters, regardless of the weight of this atmosphere."
"Excellent," I ordered, drawing my runic sword, whose sky-blue glow seemed to bravely struggle against the purplish mist surrounding us. "Let's establish the new movement shifts. Rai'kanna, you will continue leading the advance in the immediate vanguard to map the points of lowest miasma concentration. Vespera, take immediate aerial cover to neutralize any ambush creature before they can initiate area attacks. We will advance with absolute focus on speed and surgical precision."
Liriel's assistant closed her clipboard with a firm sound, demonstrating that even under the physical pressure of demonic mana, the research mind of our squad remained unshaken and focused on collecting new thermal and geometric data for the next stages of the ascent.
We took the next step toward the tenth level, walking with coordinated breathing and our senses perfectly sharpened against the heavy darkness of that colossal vertical structure. We knew that the weight of demonic mana would continue to increase with every new flight of stairs we decided to overcome, but the certainty that our spiritual unity and practical intelligence were the true unbreakable barriers against the Demon King's miasma gave us the absolute conviction that no game system would be capable of stopping our progress toward the top of the tower.