"…Everyone…"
Her voice trembled as she stood frozen, her golden hair shimmering under the dim light of the dungeon.
"Why?... Why did this happen?"
The sight before her was a tableau of carnage—her comrades, once proud and unyielding, now reduced to lifeless, bloodied forms scattered across the battlefield.
Tears streamed down her face as she stumbled forward, her boots crunching over shattered armor and broken weapons. Her gaze fell on a figure she recognized—the towering form of Jack, the captain of a scouting team. An Ogre, blessed with legendary regenerative powers.
Yet, he died; his chest bore a hole, and a precise thrust had claimed his life.
With shaking hands, Alice kneeled beside him, clutching his cold, bluish hand.
"Jack! Answer me! What happened?!"
Her desperate cries echoed through the hollow chamber, but the only response was the oppressive silence of death.
His once-vivid skin now bore the pallor of decay, and his wounds—deep, brutal gashes—told the tale of a relentless and merciless foe. Her heart sank as she realized they had arrived too late.
These soldiers—her comrades, her subordinates—had given their lives for the ideals they all shared. They had ventured into this treacherous dungeon to fight for a brighter future, only to fall victim to a nightmare-given form.
A selfish monster.
Unknown.
His blade, precise and unforgiving, had carved through their ranks with unrelenting savagery, leaving no chance for survival.
Clutching Jack's hand tightly, she lowered her head, her shoulders shaking as tears continued to fall.
"I swear..." she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. "I swear I will destroy that demon and reclaim [Sword of Desire]!"
Her golden eyes burned with resolve as she rose to her feet, her grief hardening into a fierce determination.
"Your deaths will not be in vain. I will make him pay for what he's done!"
The flames crackled and surged higher, weaving through the remains of Alice's fallen comrades, consuming them in a final, somber act of remembrance.
The smoke curled upwards, but there was no river of white silver here in this dark, oppressive dungeon. There was no serene light to guide them to their homeland, no peaceful rest.
Instead, the cold stone walls of the dungeon stood silent witness to their sacrifice, as their bodies became part of the inferno, their souls bound for another place. Alice felt the weight of their loss as a heavy ache in her chest, but she remained resolute.
"Everyone, wait for me," she whispered under her breath, wiping the remaining tears from her face. Her voice, though soft, carried a quiet, unshakable determination. "Soon, we'll be going home."
She stood tall, gathering the strength she needed to continue, as the last flickers of flame danced in the air. Her comrades, their sacrifice made, would not be forgotten. Alice took a steady breath before turning her attention to the task at hand.
"Sylvie, did you find any information?" she asked, her voice no longer trembling with grief.
Sylvie, her most trusted companion, glanced up from the stack of papers in her hands. "They've recorded their route and the map of the nearby area," she reported, her voice steady despite the circumstances.
Alice nodded, her mind already moving to the next step. "If they hadn't run into him... we might have already found the location of the last shard of the sword."
Using the knowledge shared by the Undead King—their king—Alice's team had been prepared for most of what the dungeon had to offer.
They had learned about the sword's signature magical energy, the unique feel of its presence, and the dangerous creatures that lurked within.
The king's guidance had given them a sense of direction, a sliver of hope that they could navigate this treacherous maze of darkness and traps.
But all of that preparation had been upended by the unexpected appearance of Unknown.
They had two critical goals now, and one had failed.
The first was to retrieve the main part of [Sword of Desire], which was said to host part of the "sentence" of Eclipse—a weapon with both destructive and transformative power.
But it wouldn't be in its true form—capable of granting wishes without all the original fragments.
And that was their number two objective—the second missing part of the sword, sealed somewhere deep inside the dungeon.
"The last shard of the sword…" Alice murmured, the thought weighing heavily on her heart. Her mind flashed to the information she had received from her king, the pressure mounting with each passing day.
She clenched her fists, forcing herself to focus. The task at hand was monumental, and the creature she sought—the monster who had brought death to her comrades—was not to be taken lightly.
A Death Knight. The monster had killed with cold efficiency, and now it was up to Alice to face him.
Her thoughts drifted back to the information she'd received from her king. The pressure of the mission felt suffocating, but Alice knew that she had to succeed. She had no other choice.
She was the youngest general in the magical kingdom's army, a title she had earned despite her youth. And though she was human, an adopted child of the kingdom, her potential was extraordinary—enough to rival even the most seasoned of generals from the first generation.
That was why she had been chosen for this mission. But as the weight of the task pressed down on her, so did the anxiety in her heart.
Could she truly face the monster and capture the last shard of the sword? Could she bring an end to the bloodshed, even if it meant confronting a power far greater than she had ever faced before?
For a moment, doubt clouded her mind, but she pushed it aside. She had no time for hesitation. Her comrades had died for this cause, and she would not let their sacrifice be in vain.
With a final, determined glance at the fire, Alice turned and faced her team. "We move forward," she said, her voice steady and resolute. "We will find the shard, and we will defeat that Death Knight. For our fallen comrades. For the kingdom. For the future."
The journey ahead would be treacherous, but Alice knew one thing for sure: she would see it through to the end, no matter what it took.
Thus began the arduous and relentless pursuit of the one who had mercilessly slaughtered Alice's comrades. The hunt was fraught with challenges, each more daunting than the last, as their adversary was no ordinary foe.
Unknown was cunning and methodical, leaving behind no trace that could lead them to his whereabouts.
He moved like a shadow, vanishing without a whisper of sound or the faintest ripple of magical energy. Each step he took seemed calculated to misdirect and obscure his trail.
Suppressing his aura with near-perfect precision, he only allowed his magical energy to surface in brief, calculated bursts—just enough to handle whatever threats crossed his path. Even these moments were fleeting, leaving the pursuit party grasping at echoes and fading impressions.
As a result, Alice and her team were always one step behind their quarry. Their maps, painstakingly recorded by fallen scouts, became little more than relics of past attempts to predict his movements.
The dungeon itself seemed to conspire with Unknown, its twisting passages and overlapping layers complicating their progress at every turn.
"Another dead end," Alice muttered, her frustration bubbling beneath her calm exterior. She clenched the map in her hands, her golden hair dimmed by the flickering light of their torches.
Sylvie, her most trusted aide, crouched beside a set of faint tracks in the dirt. "He passed through here recently—no more than an hour ago," she said, her voice tinged with worry. "But there's no telling which path he took from here. The traces just... disappear."
"Again," Alice whispered, the word heavy with exasperation.
It has been more than ten days.
Unknown's ability to vanish without a trace was as infuriating as it was awe-inspiring. Even the advanced sensory magic they relied on had proven ineffective against him.
It was as if he had mastered the art of erasing his existence from the world, leaving behind only the aftermath of his devastating power.
'This is no use.' Alice put her hand on her temper and sighed.
Still, Alice refused to give up. She had vowed to avenge her comrades, and she would not let the shadow of despair deter her.
Her resolve was unshakable, though the gnawing fear of facing him lingered at the edge of her mind.
"Let's just rest a bit," Alice said, her voice carrying a hint of exhaustion. She glanced around at her team, noting the weariness etched into their faces and the trembling in their hands from prolonged tension.
Their stamina was dwindling, and their sanity was stretched thin by the relentless pursuit and the oppressive atmosphere of the dungeon.
Sylvie nodded, relieved to hear the command. "Agreed. Pushing forward in this state will only get us killed."
The team moved into a small alcove, a relatively safe haven they had passed earlier. The flickering torches illuminated their drawn faces, and the silence was punctuated by heavy breaths and the occasional murmur of discomfort.
Alice sat against the cold stone wall, closing her eyes for a moment. Her body begged for sleep, but her mind refused to settle. As much as she wanted to press forward, she knew Sylvie was right—they needed a plan, not blind pursuit.
Chasing Unknown in the darkness, fatigued and fragmented, was a mistake they couldn't afford to make.
"He's really good at hiding. How exactly is he suppressing his magical energy so effectively?"
"Well, he is part of the Darknight Order. It'd be more surprising if he wasn't careful."
"Still, if we keep following his trail, we'll catch him eventually. After all, he's only human."
"Pincer, Claw, there's no time for idle chatter. Come here and get your assignments," Sylvie called, her tone clipped and commanding.
Two Insectoids—humanoid beings with chitinous armor covering their bodies and jointed appendages resembling claws and pincers—immediately ceased their banter and walked over.
Their insect-like features glimmered faintly under the dim, flickering light of the dungeon, casting sharp, distorted shadows on the walls.
Today, they were tasked with foraging for supplies and hunting for food.
"Technically, Alice is the captain," Pincer muttered under his breath, his mandibles clicking softly in irritation as they walked.
"But Sylvie's the boss," Claw responded with a wry grin, his multifaceted eyes gleaming mischievously. "Go ahead, try arguing with her."
He nodded towards Sylvie, whose coiled hair and serpent-like eyes seemed to radiate authority even in the oppressive darkness of the dungeon. Her unwavering, predatory gaze was enough to make most creatures freeze.
"No thanks, not interested," Pincer replied quickly, his tone laced with mock defeat. He wasn't foolish enough to take Claw's bait and risk facing Sylvie's wrath.
The core team consisted of five members, with Alice as their official leader. Beyond this, the battalion included fifty soldiers, handpicked for their combat prowess and ability to survive within the brutality of the dungeon.
Still, they are not the best at chasing and scouting, that is the reason why Unknown outmaneuver them.
Inside the cavernous chamber, Sylvie's sharp eyes fell on Alice, who sat slumped against the wall, her usually bright golden hair dulled by grime and exhaustion. Her expression was distant, her gaze fixed on the jagged ceiling above.
Alice was thinking about this whole thing.
Discontently.