[Congratulations! You have advanced to the rank of Initiate!]
[Level 30! You have obtained 25 points!]
[You have obtained the title: Dungeon Pioneer!]
[For being the first native of this system to kill a dungeon aberrant, +1 point to every level gained while within dungeons!]
[Extra 5 points awarded!]
[Blade Surge level 32!]
[Crushing Blade level 5!]
[You killed 25 Flame Serpents! You obtained 500 credits!]
Moyo stood under the cool cascade of flowing water, letting it wash away the grime, blood, and waste that clung to him. The relief was palpable as the taint of battle slid from his skin. For the first time in hours—or was it days?—he could breathe deeply without choking on the stench of his own exhaustion.
He glanced down at his body, marveling at the transformation. He had always been lanky, no matter how much food he shoveled down, his frame wiry and awkward. Now, though, his muscles were toned and firm—not the bulk of a bodybuilder, but the sleek, powerful build of an Olympic athlete.
Using a lava-smoothed rock, he scrubbed away the last remnants of filth. When he was done, he stepped out of the water, letting the heat from the nearby lava dry him. The robes Ajax had given him—a rugged, armless cut that fit surprisingly well—felt comfortable as he slipped them on.
The distant roars of aberrants echoed faintly through the cavern as he approached Ajax, his senses on high alert.
Ajax noticed his wary glance toward the entrance and chuckled. "Relax," he said, taking the pole from Moyo's hands. He turned it over in his grip, inspecting it with a practiced eye before nodding in satisfaction.
"Most of the stronger creatures will avoid this area. The death of the serpent and troll will make them wary of breaching their sanctuary. You've got a few hours—maybe a day at most."
Moyo frowned. "Why were there level 20 aberrants in a Tier 2 dungeon?"
Ajax shrugged. "It's just how it works. A higher-tiered dungeon doesn't mean the creatures start at higher levels—it means the threshold for aberrants is much higher. This dungeon can house creatures up to the mid-Tier 2 range, maybe higher."
Moyo's stomach tightened. "So this dungeon has a boss?"
Ajax snorted. "You think this cave is the entire dungeon?" He gestured around them. "There are mountains, forests, and whole landscapes locked within this dungeon. And yes, somewhere in this sprawling death trap is a dungeon boss—one that would crush you like an insect right now."
His tone carried the familiar disappointment that Moyo was reluctantly growing accustomed to.
"So what now, Master?" Moyo asked, glancing between Ajax and the pole.
Ajax grinned, reaching into his Voidkeep. A moment later, a large stone table materialized with a resounding crash, slamming into the cavern floor. Moyo stumbled back, startled by the sheer weight of the object.
"Tell me," Ajax said, gesturing to the table, "do you have weapon shapers in your world?"
"Weapon shapers?" Moyo repeated, confused. "No, but we had blacksmiths. They made weapons out of metal."
Ajax nodded. "Same concept, except weapon shapers work with aether and, in advanced cases, runes. I'm not at that stage yet, but I can manage crude shaping for now."
Moyo watched in fascination as glowing symbols etched themselves across the stone table. Ajax began tracing patterns on its surface with precise movements, the outline of a two-sided blade taking form. The table seemed to carve into itself, creating a crevice where molten metal would flow.
Ajax placed the pole into the crevice and grabbed the same bowl he had used for Moyo's baptism. Dipping it into a pool of molten lava, he poured the glowing liquid over the pole, tapping symbols along the table's edge. Red flames erupted from the crevice, licking at the metal as Moyo instinctively stepped back.
"Your palm," Ajax ordered sharply.
Moyo hesitated, then held out his hand. Ajax's finger, cloaked in refined intent far denser than Moyo's own, sliced cleanly across his palm. Moyo winced as blood welled up, thick and dark.
Without hesitation, Ajax tilted Moyo's hand over the molten blade, letting the blood drip onto the liquefied metal. The regeneration skill kicked in almost instantly, sealing the wound without leaving a scar.
Ajax produced a hammer from his Voidkeep, the tool etched with glowing runes that pulsed faintly.
"Every respectable swordsman," Ajax began, gripping the hammer tightly, "should be able to reforge and maintain their blade. What I'm doing now is out of respect for what you've endured—not obligation. Once forged, my hands will never touch this weapon again unless in battle. Do you understand?"
Moyo nodded, his gaze fixed on the weapon taking shape before him.
Ajax crushed several glowing aether shards, muttering something about deducting them from his pay. The shards' energy seeped into the molten metal, infusing it with raw power.
As Ajax began to hammer the blade, each strike rang out like a bell, the sound echoing across the cavern. The heat was intense, but Ajax worked barehanded, his intent-coated fingers shaping the weapon with practiced ease.
"Pour your intent into it," Ajax instructed, his voice firm. "Let it soak into the blade."
Moyo obeyed, channeling the power from his core into the molten metal. The weapon seemed to drink in the energy, the glow intensifying as it began to take form.
"Every swing you've made, every attack, every kill," Ajax said, his eyes never leaving the blade, "has been ingrained into this metal. It has witnessed your journey, and now it will answer only to you."
The blade shimmered, its edges glowing faintly with the blue hue of refined intent.
Moyo stared, awestruck, as the weapon cooled, the pole now transformed into a double-edged blade that hummed with power.
Ajax stepped back, admiring his work. "It's crude," he said, almost dismissively, "but it will serve you well."
Moyo reached out, gripping the weapon. As his fingers curled around the hilt, he felt it—a resonance, a connection. The blade wasn't just a tool. It was a part of him now.
Allowing the weapon to cool, Moyo wrapped strips of leather around its hilt for a better grip. He stared at the dark blue blade, its faint glow reflecting the light of the magma pool. The weapon felt alive in his hands, humming softly with the intent imbued within it.
Ajax finished packing his tools, sending them back into his Voidkeep, and retrieved a large gourd, taking a swig as notifications lit up Moyo's HUD.
[Congratulations! You have forged a blade.]
[Blade has been graded to the rank (Imbued).]
[Blade can now be named.]
Moyo swung the weapon experimentally, marveling at how it seemed to cleave through the air effortlessly.
"This is where you name the weapon," Ajax said, interrupting Moyo's thoughts. "But before you give it some ridiculous, brooding name to sound impressive, remember this: you can't take it back or change it. Not unless you upgrade its rank."
Moyo paused, looking between the blade and Ajax. The Death Blade was staring at him expectantly, amusement dancing in his eyes.
"Ida," Moyo said quietly. The sword pulsed in response.
[You have named your blade (Ida).]
"That's a name I haven't heard before," Ajax muttered.
"It's from my native tongue," Moyo explained. "It means blade."
Ajax blinked. "You named your blade... blade?"
Moyo nodded, unbothered.
Ajax sighed, rubbing his temples. "You're lucky I've grown fond of you. 'Blade'? Really?"
"It was that or vengeance," Moyo said with a small shrug.
Ajax raised his hands in mock exasperation. "Fair enough."
Returning to his HUD, Moyo allocated the 30 points he had earned. While his strength was undeniable, Ajax had made a pointed observation earlier.
"Strength is good," Ajax had said, "but it means nothing if your opponent gets to you before you can get to them."
Taking the advice to heart, Moyo distributed the points carefully:
10 into Dexterity, feeling lighter the moment he confirmed it.10 into Vitality, ensuring he could endure longer battles and extend his lifespan.5 each into Strength and Endurance, boosting his raw power and stamina further.
STATS
Name: Moyosore
Path: None
Race: Human
Rank: Initiate
Core: Intent [Dim]
Level: 30
Weapon: Blade (Imbued) Ida
Skills:
Blood Absorption [?]Endure Agony [U] 25Physical Regeneration [U] 25Toxin Resistance [C] 25Blade Surge [U] 32Crushing Blade [U] 5
Attributes:STR: 38DEX: 28END: 38VIT: 35
Titles:Dungeon Pioneer [+1 point to every level gained within dungeons.]
Items:Ethereal Credits: 100,500
"I killed all those aberrants and only went up five levels?" Moyo muttered, realizing it for the first time.
"The system rewards less for weaker kills," Ajax explained. "It's designed to prevent powerful ascenders from farming the weak. If you want better rewards, you'll need to target more challenging creatures. And trust me, this dungeon has plenty of those."
Ajax sighed, setting his hands on his hips. "Well, this is the part where I say goodbye. Temporarily."
Moyo froze. "You're leaving?"
A part of him was relieved—Ajax's training was grueling, and the man's sadistic streak was nothing short of terrifying. But another part of him felt uneasy. The Death Blade's presence, for all its brutality, had been a source of reassurance.
"Not entirely," Ajax said, waving off the concern. "I'll still be in the dungeon, just somewhere you can't reach without dying. Babysitting you has been exhausting."
"Ah," Moyo said simply, unsure how to feel.
"If you want to find me again, you'll need to grow stronger," Ajax continued. "You'll need to be at least the peak of Acolyte rank to even consider taking down the dungeon boss—or, as the system calls it, the Prime Aberrant."
Moyo's stomach sank. "But I'm an Initiate," he muttered, his eyes wide.
Ajax clapped him on the shoulder, his grin returning. "Exactly. Which means you've got a long way to go."
He leaned closer, his tone shifting to something almost fatherly. "Listen, if something's too strong to kill—and it will be—run. There's no shame in surviving. The dead don't write stories."
Moyo stared at him, expression unreadable. "Would you be proud of me if I ran?"
Ajax rocked back slightly, caught off guard. A tense moment passed between them.
"I want you to live," Ajax said firmly.
"Then I keep advancing," Moyo replied, his voice steady.
Ajax's grin widened into a toothy smile. Without another word, he turned and disappeared into the tunnels, his laughter echoing faintly behind him.
Left alone in the cavern, the enormity of what had transpired crashed down on Moyo like a wave. He stood in silence, gripping Ida tightly as he took a deep, shuddering breath.
When he opened his eyes, there was only determination.
He set forth into the unknown, ready to grow stronger.
Ajax strode out of the cavern, the faint echoes of Moyo's determination fading behind him. The dungeon stretched vast and unyielding before him, its foreboding landscapes illuminated by the distant glow of magma rivers and jagged crystalline structures.
With a sigh, he activated Void Step, crossing the expanse between himself and the towering mountain on the horizon in three smooth strides. The Rare-ranked skill shimmered faintly as it carried him through the void, depositing him at the base of the mountain with effortless precision.
Just as he prepared to ascend, his HUD flared to life, displaying an incoming call. Ajax groaned at the message that followed.
[Notice: Syndicate Call Fee – 1,000 Credits.]
"A thousand credits for a bloody call?" he muttered, accepting the connection. The screen lit up with the image of a masked figure, silver hair cascading behind the obscured face.
Ajax snorted. "Really? This is the best disguise you could come up with? You must be cutting costs."
The figure ignored the jab, their voice clipped and direct. "Status of the candidate?"
"You mean my disciple?" Ajax replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
The figure stiffened visibly. "By the system itself, Ajax, what have you done?"
"Relax," Ajax said, waving dismissively. "I didn't teach him anything that would make him a target."
The masked figure's voice rose, tinged with frustration. "Ajax, him being your disciple already makes him a target!"
Ajax tilted his head, mock surprise on his face. "Wow, and here I thought your twin was the one most likely to die of worry."
The figure took a deep breath, clearly trying to rein in their irritation. "Status update. Now."
"Fine," Ajax relented, though his smirk remained. "The candidate—your word, not mine—is progressing well. Initiate rank, intent user, swordsman. That skill you oh-so-generously gifted him? Working wonders. Care to send me one of those?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," the figure replied coolly.
"Of course you don't," Ajax said, shaking his head. With a flick of his wrist, his intent carried him into the air, propelling him toward the single tunnel entrance carved into the mountainside.
A system message appeared before him.
[Warning: You have breached the entrance to the Prime Aberrant's domain.]
Ajax ignored it, continuing his ascent.
"Time's running out," the masked figure said. "You need to be out of that system before the First Great Trials arrive. And you're aware neither the Vanguard nor the denizens of that world can know you're there, correct?"
Ajax rolled his eyes. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were doubting my ability to get away with all manner of mischief. You're not, are you?"
"For once, take this seriously," the figure pleaded. "The fate of countless billions depends on this."
The humor drained from Ajax's face. "Believe me, I know." His tone turned firm, resolute. "When I tell you to be calm, trust me. He's special, this one. And I intend to get the best out of him, one way or another."
The figure hesitated, as if realizing the gravity of Ajax's words.
"By the Monarchs, Ajax, please. Nothing drastic. You haven't done anything drastic to the child, have you?"
Ajax's smirk returned, sharper this time. "What? I can't hear you—system interference, I think."
"Ajax, I know you can—"
The call cut off abruptly as Ajax terminated the connection, chuckling to himself before exhaling heavily.
"Now," he muttered, turning his gaze toward the cavern ahead. "Where were we? Ah, yes. You. Miss me?"
The towering figure in the room shifted, its shimmering scales catching the faint light. Its serpentine eyes locked onto Ajax, brimming with primal fear as it coiled tighter into the shadows.
[Prime Aberrant: Wyrm, Level 150.]
The massive creature shuddered, its entire form trembling under the weight of the man's presence. Ajax smiled, his grin equal parts charm and menace.
"Good," he whispered. "Let's talk."