As Michael finally found some motivation, he began to explore the room, moving cautiously toward the absurdly ornate door that seemed to beckon him with its intricate carvings and aged elegance. The door was an imposing sight, with a surface so polished that it reflected the dim light of the room, casting eerie, distorted shadows on the walls. Each step toward it felt like a journey deeper into the unknown, a step closer to whatever fate awaited him beyond.
As he walked, his foot bumped into something on the ground. The sound echoed unnervingly in the silent chamber, and Michael instinctively froze, his senses on high alert. For a moment, he feared it might be some hidden trap or another artifact left to test him. But when he looked down, he saw it was merely a thick, paperback book, its cover worn and faded with age. The spine was cracked from countless readings, and the pages were yellowed, giving it an air of ancient wisdom.
Curiosity piqued, Michael bent down and picked up the book. It felt oddly warm in his hands, as though it had been waiting for him. The title, written in an unfamiliar script, seemed to shimmer and shift, making it impossible to read. Yet, when he opened the book, the text inside was clear and legible, almost as if it was translating itself for his eyes alone. The words on the pages flowed with a strange rhythm, drawing him in with their promise of knowledge.
He quickly realized that this was no ordinary book—it contained information that was absolutely necessary for surviving in such an unforgiving world. The pages were filled with detailed descriptions, diagrams, and instructions, covering a vast array of topics from the nature of monsters to the intricacies of magic and even the hidden rules governing this strange realm. It was a survival guide, a grim manual for those unlucky enough to find themselves in a world where death lurked at every corner.
Michael leaned his back against the overly embellished door and began to read the ancient text. Hours passed as he pored over the 200-page book, engraving the contents into his memory. The book offered a wealth of knowledge that made his earlier battles seem like mere skirmishes in comparison to what awaited him.
—
Monsters:
Monsters are animal or humanoid-like creatures that spawn in dungeons. These dungeons, of unknown origin, are designed to lure creatures inside and consume them. The deeper one ventures into a dungeon, the stronger and more dangerous the monsters become. If a dungeon isn't discovered and dealt with, its monsters will eventually pour out, seeking food.
Monsters are categorized by rank, from F- to SSS+, with higher-ranked creatures typically found deeper within a dungeon. The ranks not only reflect the monsters' power but also their cunning and resilience. The most dangerous of these creatures are said to possess intelligence rivaling that of the greatest human minds, capable of strategy and even wielding magic of their own.
—
Magic:
Magic is the backbone of this world, with almost anything being possible if one knows how to wield it. Magic is divided into two types: 2D and 3D, each requiring a "formation" of mana to act as a blueprint for the spell. While chanting isn't necessary, strong mental visualization is crucial. Individuals are born with access to a limited number of magic types, and some magic, like hexagonal magic, might be entirely inaccessible to certain people. Certain races or equipment can boost or weaken specific elements.
The book detailed the various tiers of magic, from the basic and widely accessible 2D Common Magic to the rare and powerful 3D Noble Magic. The descriptions were accompanied by illustrations of the mana formations required for each type, along with examples of their practical applications.
—
2D Common Magic (50% of all people can use this class)
Triangle Magic (Basic magic) (50% can use this tier)
Quadrilateral Magic (Basic Magic) (45% can use this tier)
Pentagon Magic (Common Magic) (40% can use this tier)
Hexagon Magic (Uncommon Magic (35% can use this tier)
Heptagon Magic (Rare Magic) (30% can use this tier)
Octagon Magic (Epic Magic) (25% can use this tier)
Nonagon Magic (Legendary Magic) (20% can use this tier)
Decagon Magic (Mythical Magic) (15% can use this tier)
Circular Magic (Theoretical Magic) (??? can use this tier)
3D Noble Magic (5% of all people can use this class)
Tetrahedron (Common Magic) (5% can use this tier)
Dipyramid (Uncommon Magic) (3% can use this tier)
Cubicle (Rare Magic) (2% can use this tier)
Octahedron (Epic Magic) (1% can use this tier)
Dodecahedron (Legendary Magic) (0.1% can use this tier)
Icosahedron (Mythical Magic) (0.01% can use this tier)
Sphere (Theoretical Magic) (??? can use this tier)
—
Titles, Classes, Equipment, and Races:
The book also covered various other topics, such as titles—achievements or curses bestowed upon individuals based on their actions or fate. Titles could grant powerful abilities or impose severe limitations, shaping the destiny of the bearer in ways they might not even comprehend.
The book explained that classes were given to a person when they finished a requirement or something changed in them leading to a class change. Subclasses on the other hand were given at birth, they were completely random and only very rarely could be changed.
Equipment, too, was more than just tools or weapons. In this world, items could carry their own histories, personalities, and even sentience. The strongest equipment was often bound to its wielder, growing alongside them, while weaker items could be discarded or consumed to enhance stronger gear.
The section on races was particularly detailed, describing the myriad beings that inhabited the world. From the common human and elves to the enigmatic dragonkin and demonic races, each species had its own strengths, weaknesses, and unique affinities for certain types of magic or combat styles.
—
As Michael devoured the knowledge within the book, he began to feel a strange sense of detachment from his previous life. The information was overwhelming, yet it filled him with a grim resolve. He could no longer afford to see himself as the same person who had stumbled into this world by accident. He was changing—mentally, emotionally, and physically. The book was more than just a guide; it was a blueprint for his transformation.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Michael decided it was time to open the door he had been leaning against. His fingers brushed against the cool, intricate metalwork of the door handle, and he pushed it open. The door creaked with an ancient groan, sending dust cascading to the floor from its long period of disuse. Once Michael fully stepped inside, the doors promptly shut behind him with a heavy, echoing thud that reverberated through the chamber, leaving him alone in the darkness.
The silence was oppressive, almost suffocating. Michael stood still, his senses on high alert as he waited for something—anything—to happen. Suddenly, bright torches flared to life around the room, their flames burning with an unnatural intensity. The sudden light blinded him for a moment, and when his eyes adjusted, he found himself in a large gladiatorial arena, its design both awe-inspiring and terrifying.
The arena was massive, with what seemed like hundreds of thousands of unoccupied seats, their emptiness adding to the eerie atmosphere. The architecture was grand and ornate, with towering columns and intricately carved reliefs depicting scenes of battle and conquest. The arena floor, covered in pristine sand, looked as though it had been meticulously maintained, as if it were waiting for a fight to begin.
From the other side of the arena, a large wooden gate began to open with a slow, ominous creak. Loud, echoing thuds reverberated off the walls, each one sending a shiver down Michael's spine. He braced himself, expecting to face some colossal beast—a dragon, perhaps, or a titan—that would surely kill him in an instant.
But what emerged from the gate was not a towering monster but a small, green creature that looked almost laughable in its simplicity. As Michael stared at it, he recognized it immediately—a goblin, grotesque and uncivilized, armed with a tiny dagger that seemed more like a toy than a weapon. Relief washed over him for a brief moment, but the echoes hadn't stopped.
In the blink of an eye, more goblins began to emerge from the wooden gate, their numbers growing with each passing second. Hundreds of small green heads bobbed up and down as they poured into the arena, all armed with similar crude weapons. The arena was vast, but the goblins kept coming, eventually filling more than half of the space with their sheer numbers.
Michael's mind raced as he realized the goblins were about to charge. Panic set in—there was no way he could win this battle unless he did something drastic. He scanned his skills, noting that while he had perfect theoretical knowledge of how to wield a scythe, he didn't have one. And though he had perfect knowledge for theoretical magic, he had never used a spell in his life.
But there was no time to hesitate. The green tide was closing in, their shrill war cries echoing off the walls as they prepared to swarm him. Michael felt a sense of power deep within his heart, a dormant force that had been waiting for this moment to awaken. He closed his eyes and focused, willing that power to move, to respond to his desperate need.
As he concentrated, the mana stored in his heart began to flow freely through his body, its warmth spreading to every limb. He could feel it, pulsing with a rhythm that matched his heartbeat, surging with a raw, untamed power that was both exhilarating and terrifying. It was as if the very essence of his being was coming alive, responding to his will.
The mana flowed outward, forming a translucent circular shield around him, flickering with an ethereal light. Michael knew that to complete the formation, he needed a perfect mental image of the weapon he wanted to create—something with widespread but controlled damage. His mind raced through possibilities, rejecting one after another until he settled on the idea of a claymore mine, a devastating weapon capable of creating a targeted explosion.
He visualized it in his mind's eye with meticulous detail: the chemical components required to create C-4, the delicate wiring needed for detonation, the precise arrangement of ball bearings to maximize the shrapnel spread. The image was so vivid that he could almost feel the rough texture of the explosives and hear the faint ticking of the detonator.
As his thoughts focused, multiple magic circles began to revolve around his translucent dome, their symbols glowing with an intense light. The circles overlapped and intertwined, creating a complex web of power that pulsed with each beat of his heart. The more he concentrated, the brighter the magic formations became, their light growing so intense that it threatened to overwhelm him.
When he finally opened his eyes, he was astounded by what he saw. A light gray dome surrounded him, covered in an unknown language that seemed both familiar and distant, like a long-forgotten memory. The dome was adorned with intricate circles, each inscribed with messages of seemingly inevitable destruction. The air around him buzzed with energy, the atmosphere charged with a tangible sense of impending doom.
Michael poured even more mana into the formation, watching as the gray light turned into a brilliant, blinding white. The energy coalesced around him, forming a thick, protective layer that hummed with latent power. When he blinked, the light shifted, and he found himself encased in a light blue energy, cool and calming yet crackling with destructive potential.
Outside this thin protective layer, hundreds of pounds of semi-transparent explosives materialized, embedded with millions of ball bearings. The goblins were mere feet away when he finished his spell, their savage faces twisted with rage as they prepared to strike.
With a final surge of power, Michael activated the magic he had conjured. The arena was instantly filled with a deafening explosion as the claymore mine detonated, releasing a deadly wave of shrapnel that tore through the goblin horde. The blast was so powerful that it shook the very foundations of the arena, the shockwave rippling through the air and sending the torches flickering wildly.
The screams of dying goblins filled the air, their cries of pain and terror cut short as the ball bearings ripped through their ranks with merciless efficiency. The once-pristine sand of the arena was now stained with blood, littered with the mangled remains of the goblins. The smell of burning flesh and charred metal permeated the air, a gruesome testament to the destruction Michael had wrought.
When the dust finally settled, the arena floor was a scene of carnage. The goblins were gone, their bodies reduced to lifeless husks scattered across the sand. Michael stood in the center of the devastation, breathing heavily, his body trembling from the exertion and the shock of what he had just accomplished. The protective energy around him faded, leaving him exposed to the aftermath of the battle.
He had survived. But as he looked around at the destruction he had unleashed, a cold, creeping fear began to take hold of him. The raw power he had tapped into, the ease with which he had summoned such devastating magic—it was both thrilling and terrifying. This was only the beginning. The path he was on was one of blood and death, and there would be no turning back.
As the echoes of the explosion faded into silence, Michael stood alone in the arena, a lone figure amidst the ruins, his heart heavy with the knowledge that he had crossed a line. The world he had been thrust into was unforgiving, and if he was to survive, he would need to become something far more dangerous than he had ever imagined.