The next chamber was vast, the air damp and heavy. Dim torchlight flickered against the jagged stone walls, casting long shadows that danced like specters. At the center of the room loomed a hulking beast—a Shadowfang Alpha, twice the size of the wolves Ethan had fought earlier. Its black fur shimmered with an eerie, unnatural sheen, and its glowing red eyes locked onto the group as soon as they entered.
The mage and swordsman from earlier had formed a full party, dragging in a couple more players to bolster their chances.
"All right, team," the mage said, his tone authoritative as he addressed the group. "This thing's no joke. Stick to your roles, don't get greedy, and we'll be fine."
Ethan stood at the back of the group, his wooden sword still in hand. He had only managed to scavenge a couple of potions from a previous room, and his stats were still abysmal. The rest of the party had actual gear and skills unlocked, yet they didn't seem particularly confident.
"Are you sure about this?" the swordsman muttered.
"We've got the numbers," the mage replied. "Besides, if it goes south, we can just respawn. No big deal."
Ethan said nothing, watching as the group moved into position. The Shadowfang Alpha let out a low growl, its muscles tensing.
"Engaging boss: Shadowfang Alpha. Party health scaling enabled."
The battle began with a deafening roar.
The tank charged first, raising his shield to intercept the Alpha's initial lunge. The beast slammed into him with enough force to crack the ground beneath their feet, sending tremors through the room. The healer scrambled to cast a barrier, while the DPS players launched a flurry of attacks.
Ethan hung back, observing. The Alpha's health bar was enormous, and its attacks were relentless. Every few seconds, it would unleash an area-of-effect roar that stunned nearby players, leaving them vulnerable. The mage and swordsman were trying to coordinate, but their movements were clumsy, and their attacks weren't synchronized.
Within minutes, the tank's health hit zero.
"Crap! He's down!" the mage shouted.
The Alpha turned its attention to the rest of the group, pouncing on the healer next. Chaos erupted as the party scrambled to reposition, but it was no use. One by one, they fell, their avatars disintegrating into shards of light as the system registered their deaths.
Ethan was the last one standing.
The Alpha turned to him, its glowing eyes narrowing.
"Guess it's just you and me," Ethan muttered, gripping his wooden sword tightly.
The Alpha lunged, its massive claws slicing through the air. Ethan rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the attack. His heart raced as he scanned the room for an opening. Unlike the others, he didn't have flashy skills or high-tier gear. He had to rely on timing and precision.
The beast lunged again, and Ethan baited it toward a crumbling pillar in the corner of the room. As the Alpha charged, he sidestepped at the last second, causing the creature to slam into the stone. The pillar collapsed, momentarily dazing the beast and leaving it vulnerable.
Ethan took the opportunity to strike, landing a flurry of blows on its exposed side. Each hit barely made a dent in its health bar, but it was progress.
The fight dragged on for what felt like an eternity. Ethan dodged, parried, and countered, chipping away at the Alpha's health bit by bit. He used every potion he had, carefully managing his stamina and positioning to avoid its devastating attacks.
Finally, after what felt like hours, the beast let out a final, ear-splitting roar and collapsed to the ground. Its massive body dissolved into shimmering particles, leaving behind a treasure chest and a glowing notification.
"Congratulations! You have defeated Shadowfang Alpha."
"First Kill Achievement Unlocked: Alpha Slayer."
Ethan slumped to the ground, his heart pounding. He stared at the glowing achievement badge in his menu, a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction washing over him.
Ethan emerged from the dungeon to find the mage, swordsman, and the rest of the party waiting outside. They looked disgruntled, clearly annoyed by their earlier defeat.
"You're alive?" the swordsman said, his eyes wide. "How the hell did you manage that?"
Ethan smirked, holding up the glowing achievement badge. "Told you I was Phoenix."
The mage narrowed his eyes, clearly skeptical. "There's no way you soloed the boss. You must've gotten lucky or something."
"Lucky?" Ethan repeated, raising an eyebrow. "I just carried the fight you all wiped on. If that's luck, then what do you call your performance?"
The other players snickered, but the mage wasn't amused. "Look, anyone can get an achievement if they're carried by someone stronger. You probably ran into a high-level player who did all the work for you."
"Yeah," the swordsman chimed in. "You've got no proof you actually killed the boss solo."
Ethan's smirk faltered. "I don't need proof. I have the achievement, don't I?"
"That doesn't mean anything," the mage said dismissively. "If you really want us to believe you're Phoenix, you'll have to do better than that."
Ethan clenched his fists, a surge of irritation rising within him. These people had doubted him from the start, and even now, after he'd done something none of them could, they refused to acknowledge his skill.
Fine. If they want proof, I'll give them proof.
He stepped forward, his eyes locking onto the mage's. "You think I was carried? How about I show you exactly what I can do? One-on-one. Right now."
The mage hesitated, but the swordsman stepped in, grinning. "Fine by me. But don't cry when you lose, wannabe."
Ethan opened the game's menu and navigated to the PvP section. There, he selected a mini-game he hadn't played in years: Blitz Tactics. It was a fast-paced, strategy-heavy duel mode where players had to outmaneuver their opponents on a grid-based battlefield.
The mage and swordsman exchanged glances, clearly unimpressed.
"Blitz Tactics?" the swordsman said, laughing. "That game's ancient. Nobody plays it anymore."
"Perfect," Ethan replied. "You've got no excuses, then."
The system initialized the match, transporting Ethan and the swordsman into a virtual arena. The crowd of players outside the dungeon watched through a shared spectator feed, their murmurs of curiosity and excitement filling the air.
The match began, and Ethan's instincts kicked in. Despite his rustiness, the mechanics came back to him almost instantly. He maneuvered his avatar across the grid with precision, setting traps and baiting the swordsman into predictable patterns.
Within minutes, Ethan had cornered him, executing a flawless combo that ended the match in his favor.
"Victory: Player Ethan."
The crowd erupted in cheers and laughter, while the swordsman stared at the results screen in disbelief.
"You got lucky," he muttered.
Ethan grinned, his confidence returning. "Want to go again?"
The mage stepped forward, his expression dark. "My turn."
The second match was even quicker. Ethan dismantled the mage with surgical precision, reading his every move and countering effortlessly. By the time the match ended, the mage looked ready to explode.
"You cheated," he said through gritted teeth.
Ethan shrugged. "Sure. Keep telling yourself that."
The crowd buzzed with excitement, and for the first time in a long time, Ethan felt alive. He didn't need trophies or accolades—this was what he had missed. The thrill of proving himself, of shutting down doubters with skill and strategy.
The mage and swordsman glared at him, their earlier confidence shattered.
"Believe me now?" Ethan asked, crossing his arms.
Neither of them replied.
"Thought so," he said, turning to leave.
As he walked away, a small smile played on his lips. For the first time in years, he felt like he was starting from scratch—and he couldn't wait to see where this new journey would take him.
The buzz in the air was palpable. After Ethan's second victory, the spectators surrounding the dungeon entrance grew into a lively crowd. Players who had just logged in or wandered by were drawn to the commotion, curious about the rookie who had just defeated two challengers in a row.
"Who is this guy?" someone whispered.
"Never seen him before," another player replied.
"That's Phoenix," a voice in the crowd said, sounding almost reverent. "Well, that's what he claims. But… look at how he's playing. He might actually be legit."
Ethan stood at the center of the attention, arms crossed as he surveyed the crowd. He could feel their excitement, their curiosity. It was almost intoxicating, a stark contrast to the dull monotony he had felt in his old competitive days.
A burly warrior stepped forward, pointing a thick finger at him. "Hey, rookie! You think you're hot stuff, huh? How about a match with me? I'll even throw in a bet—100 gold says I can take you down!"
The crowd roared in approval, eager for another match.
Ethan raised an eyebrow. He only had a handful of coins to his name, barely enough to buy a healing potion. But the idea of earning some extra gold piqued his interest.
"Fine," he said with a smirk. "But if I win, I get double."
"Deal," the warrior said, grinning confidently.
As the system initialized the next Blitz Tactics match, the crowd began placing their bets. Gold exchanged hands as players wagered on either Ethan or the warrior. The match itself was short-lived. The warrior, though well-equipped and confident, lacked the precision and tactical understanding that Ethan had honed through years of professional play.
Ethan baited him into a trap, outmaneuvered him at every turn, and delivered a decisive victory.
"Victory: Player Ethan."
The crowd erupted in cheers, and gold coins rained down around him as players tossed tips and winnings in his direction.
"Damn, that was incredible!" someone shouted.
"Newbie? More like the next legend!"
"You got lucky!" the warrior muttered, scowling as he handed over the agreed-upon amount.
But the loss only fueled the crowd's enthusiasm. More challengers stepped forward, eager to test their skills against the rising star. Ethan accepted match after match, his winnings piling up as he continued to dominate his opponents.
Soon, the crowd began to organize themselves. Players started pooling their bets, using Ethan as their champion.
"Hey, if you keep winning, we'll give you a cut of the profits," one player offered.
"Ten percent," another chimed in.
"No, twenty!" someone shouted. "You're the one making it all happen, after all."
Ethan hesitated for a moment, considering the offer. He was starting to amass a respectable amount of gold—more than most level-one players could dream of. The idea of getting a steady cut from the bets was tempting, especially since it didn't seem like he'd lose anytime soon.
"All right," he said. "But I'm not staying all night."
The crowd cheered, and the betting frenzy continued. Each match brought more challengers, more spectators, and more gold. Ethan's reputation grew with every victory, and players began to talk about the "genius rookie" dominating Blitz Tactics.
But as the hours went on, Ethan started to notice a shift in the crowd. The cheers were still loud, but there was an undercurrent of something else—something darker. Players began eyeing him and his growing pile of gold with poorly concealed greed.
"You think he'll share all that?" someone whispered, just loud enough for Ethan to catch.
"Doubt it. He's new. Probably doesn't even know how to bank it safely."
"What if we… you know… took it off his hands?"
Ethan felt a chill run down his spine. He had seen this kind of behavior before in other games—how quickly camaraderie could turn into cutthroat opportunism. His instincts told him it was time to leave.
After his next victory, Ethan stood up, raising a hand to quiet the crowd.
"That's it for me tonight," he announced. "Thanks for the matches."
"What? You're leaving?" someone shouted.
"You can't stop now!" another player said. "We've still got bets lined up!"
Ethan shook his head. "Sorry. I've had enough for one day."
The crowd groaned in disappointment, but a few players exchanged knowing glances.
Ethan didn't stick around to hear their complaints. He quickly navigated to his menu, activating the logout sequence. A ten-second countdown appeared in the corner of his vision, but even those few seconds felt agonizingly long.
As the timer ticked down, he noticed a group of players edging closer, their weapons drawn.
"Hey, wait a second," one of them said, his tone too casual. "Before you go, why don't you share some of those winnings? You know, as a thank-you for the audience."
Ethan's heart raced. He knew what they were trying to do: force him into a trade or attack him before he could log out. If they killed him in-game, they could loot a portion of his gold.
"Three seconds…" he muttered under his breath.
The group moved closer, their intentions no longer hidden.
"Two…"
"Don't let him log out!" someone shouted.
Ethan's screen flashed as the logout sequence completed, and the world of Rebirth Online dissolved into black.
Ethan leaned back in his chair, exhaling a long breath. The adrenaline was still pumping through his veins, his hands trembling slightly from the tension.
"That was close," he muttered, rubbing his temples.
He glanced at the clock on his desk. It was late, and he still had homework to finish before school the next day. But despite the exhaustion, he couldn't help but smile.
For the first time in years, he felt truly alive in a game—not just because of the competition, but because of the unpredictability, the danger, and the raw excitement.
"Rebirth Online, huh?" he said to himself. "Maybe this game's exactly what I needed."
As he powered down his computer, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.