After escaping the dungeon I had created, I couldn't help but pause and reflect. The subway station I had entered and escaped from was completely obliterated in both the dungeon world and the real one. Standing there, I watched the ruins in disbelief, my heart heavy with realization. This wasn't just a game or some isolated event. If I ever activated a dungeon in a populated area, countless innocent lives could be lost in the collapse.
"This is dangerous… I need to be more careful," I muttered to myself, a cold chill running down my spine.
Before I could dwell too long on the implications, a notification blinked into existence in front of me, the familiar system screen cutting through my thoughts.
[New Program Downloaded!]
[Thanks to the power of Feyrel Dagger, the system has copied its unique properties and integrated them into a new feature.]
[System has unlocked a new ability: Dungeon Generation.]
"Well, it's about damn time," I muttered sarcastically, though a small part of me felt a spark of excitement. Dungeon generation? That sounded… ominously useful.
Shaking off my thoughts, I walked to my car, slid into the driver's seat, and started the engine. The drive home was quiet, the hum of the vehicle the only sound accompanying me. My mind was a swirling mess of exhaustion and reflection. All I wanted was a break—a chance to recover from what had just happened.
When I finally arrived home, I stripped off my shirt and sank onto the edge of the bed. As I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, I couldn't help but admire the changes in my body. My abs were more defined, my arms thicker, my back broader. The points I'd poured into my strength stat were paying off. I flexed experimentally, smirking at the results. At least something good came out of that ordeal.
The buzz of my phone interrupted my moment of vanity. Picking it up, I saw a message from my older brother.
"Where are you?!"
"Home?" I replied, my brows furrowing in confusion.
"You've been gone a week. You could at least leave me with some kind of information."
"A week?" I typed back, my confusion deepening.
"Duh, a whole week."
My blood ran cold. A week? But I wasn't in that dungeon for more than a day… or so I thought. Time must've passed differently in the dungeon, but the realization that an entire week had gone by in the real world hit me like a freight train.
"Could the collapse have caused some kind of time distortion?" I muttered aloud, still trying to wrap my head around it.
Ordering some takeout to stave off the growing hunger gnawing at my stomach, I decided to call my brother. The phone barely rang before he picked up.
"H-Heey—"
"DON'T 'HEY' ME, YOU IDIOT!" my brother roared, his voice so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear. "YOU WERE GONE FOR A WEEK! CAN YOU TELL ME WHAT THE HELL YOU'VE BEEN DOING? I HAD TO PAY THE RENT IN YOUR ABSENCE, YOU MORON! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING? GOD DAMN IT!"
Ah, classic Estelar. The boiling head. I couldn't help but sigh. "Sorry," I said, trying to calm him down. "I didn't even know it had been a week. I was… uh… on a raid, but then my car broke down, so I had to wait a few days before I could get back."
A blatant lie. Half-truth, at best. But it seemed to placate him.
"Anyway," I continued, "what about meeting up? It's been a while since we've seen each other."
There was a pause on the line before Estelar spoke again, his tone softer this time. "I don't know. It could ruin your image—"
"Shut it," he cut me off. "Arlen, you're my brother. There's no way I'd be embarrassed by you, no matter what rank you are. Get over yourself. Let's meet at Guililman's."
I smiled. That was just like him—harsh and blunt but with a heart of gold. "Alright, I'll see you there."
We hung up, and I leaned back against the wall, staring at the ceiling for a moment. Estelar Gruz, my older brother. A talented S-Rank hunter with a knack for thunder-based magic and mastery of polearms. Married, three kids, and another on the way. He was everything I'd aspired to be, the reason I'd wanted to become a hunter in the first place. But unlike him, I hadn't been born with the same talents or gifts.
Shaking off the thought, I stood and headed for the shower. After cleaning up, I donned my best outfit, something decent enough for meeting family, and sat on the edge of my bed. My eyes wandered to the fragment I'd taken from the dungeon. Its faint glow pulsed rhythmically, almost as if alive.
"System," I said, holding the fragment up, "what can I use this for?"
The system's response came immediately.
[Core Fragment]
[Origin: Abandoned Station Dungeon]
[Usage: Core Fragments can be used for the following:]
- Forge unique weapons or armor.
- Infuse existing equipment with new attributes.
- Create specialized dungeon environments.
- Unlock advanced skills or latent abilities.
My eyes widened as I read through the possibilities. The potential of this fragment was immense, far beyond anything I'd anticipated. A grin spread across my face.
"This is going to be interesting," I muttered, my mind already racing with ideas.
Leaving my apartment, I got into my car and began the drive toward the nearest gas station, filling up before continuing to Guililman's. My nerves gnawed at me with every mile. It had been years since I last saw Estelar… or Jen. Memories of her made my stomach twist uncomfortably. Back when I was younger and much more foolish, I'd tried flirting with her. Estelar had beaten me senseless more times than I could count for it, though in hindsight, I probably deserved every one of those beatings.
When I finally pulled into the parking lot, I parked my car and sat there for a moment, staring at the building. Guililman's—a five-star restaurant that had been a special place for our family. We used to come here with Mom and Dad, but after that day, none of us had set foot in the place for years.
I sighed, gripping the wheel tighter before shaking it off. "Just get it over with," I muttered to myself. Stepping out of the car, I straightened my jacket and walked toward the entrance, trying to push past the swarm of nerves swirling in my chest.
The interior had changed drastically since the last time I was here. Everything looked sleek, modern, and pristine, but it lacked the warmth it once had. The receptionist greeted me with a polite smile.
"Do you have a reservation?" she asked, pen poised over the logbook.
"I think so," I replied.
"Under what name?"
"Gruz," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
The pen in her hand dropped with a small clatter. Her face flushed as she stammered, "A-ah, yes… G-Gruz. I'm sorry, Mister Estelar!"
My embarrassment deepened as I quickly corrected her, "No, no, Estelar is my brother. I'm Arlen."
The receptionist's face turned even redder, and she nodded apologetically before leading me through the restaurant. Every step felt heavier than the last. My chest tightened as I wondered if this had been a mistake.
Finally, she stopped at the table reserved for us. My brother hadn't arrived yet, so I sat there, glancing around the room nervously. And then I saw him. Estelar walked in, his presence commanding as always. I immediately looked away, avoiding eye contact like a child caught doing something wrong. But what made my stomach drop was the sight of who he'd brought with him—Jen and their kids.
My breath hitched. Why would he bring them? The guilt surged before I could stop it. I stood abruptly, muttering a quick excuse to the receptionist and heading for the exit. My mind screamed at me to leave before things got even more complicated.
I didn't get far before I felt Estelar's firm grip on my shoulder. He spun me around, his eyes narrowed as he whispered harshly, "What are you doing?"
"I'm leaving," I whispered back, trying to shrug him off. "I knew there was something more going on. I shouldn't have come."
"What are you talking about?" Estelar's tone softened, though his grip didn't. "Arlen, stop it. Jen wanted to see you, and the kids have been dying to meet their uncle. Why are you running away?"
His words cut deep, but I couldn't stop the flood of guilt that consumed me. "Because I simply don't want to," I said, my voice breaking. "Don't you get it? They're your family, not mine. I don't want to be a burden to them, to you. I'll just drag everyone down."
Estelar stared at me, his expression a mix of frustration and sadness. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to argue, but I turned away before he could say anything else. Walking briskly out of the restaurant, I got into my car and drove off, my knuckles white as they gripped the steering wheel.
---
Back at the table, Estelar returned to his seat, a heavy sigh escaping him as he slumped into the chair. Jen looked at him with a knowing expression.
"He still blames himself, doesn't he?" she asked softly, her voice tinged with sadness.
Estelar nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah. And no, I didn't tell him we'd all be here. I was hoping he'd be happy to see you, to see the kids."
Jen smiled gently, resting a hand on her belly. "He's not ready yet. He still lives in the past, in that moment when we couldn't do anything to stop what happened. He's trapped there, and until he forgives himself, he won't be able to move forward."
Her words hit Estelar hard, but he nodded. "I just want him to know he's not alone. I want him to be part of the family. He's my brother, Jen. I don't want to lose him to his own guilt."
"And you won't," Jen said, her smile as warm and bright as the sun. "It'll take time, but he'll come around. He just needs to see that he's already part of this family. He's just not ready to believe it yet."
Estelar reached over, placing a hand over hers. "I hope you're right."
"I am," Jen said confidently, her smile unwavering. "You'll see."
Back at my apartment, I paced the room, fists clenched, fury boiling under my skin. The anger was overwhelming, a mix of frustration, resentment, and something darker. My mind spiraled as I replayed the events at the restaurant, the sight of my brother's perfect life—his family, his confidence, his success—taunting me like a cruel joke.
"I love my brother like any brother should," I muttered through gritted teeth, my voice trembling with emotion. "But damn it… I hate him even more."
My hands slammed onto the table, rattling the items atop it. "An S-rank hunter with a perfect family dragging trash like me to some five-star restaurant? Inviting me there, of all places, just to show off? Just to make fun of me?" My laugh was bitter, hollow. "I knew it. I knew it! You're just waiting for the chance to rub it all in, aren't you, Estelar?"
I stormed to where I'd placed the core fragment from the dungeon, the small object glowing faintly in the dim light of my apartment. My fingers wrapped tightly around it, the sharp edges biting into my palm. The pain only fueled the fire in my chest.
"Well, I'll show you," I growled, my voice dripping with venom. "I'll show you just how wrong you are about me, you damn bastard."
I felt my lips curl into a twisted, wicked grin as a new resolve consumed me. "System," I barked, "forget the core fragment and Hubris for now. First thing tomorrow, I'm diving into training. No breaks, no excuses." My eyes burned with an intensity I hadn't felt in years. "Power. That's all I need. That's all that matters now."
The thought of Auron—my brother's pride and joy, his arrogance incarnate—crept into my mind, fueling my determination further. "And Auron…" I said, the name seething with disdain. "I'm coming for you. I'll show you what happens when pride gets overblown. I'll tear down that pedestal you think you stand on."
My laughter filled the room, echoing off the walls as it grew louder, more unhinged. It felt good, liberating even. For the first time in what felt like forever, I had clarity, a purpose that drove me forward. "Ah… I feel so good now," I murmured, my laughter subsiding as I leaned back in my chair, the weight of my plans settling in my chest like an anchor.
Calming myself, I turned my attention back to the system interface that hovered in front of me. The options regarding the core fragment and Hubris shimmered faintly, waiting for my input. I stared at them for a long moment, the possibilities swirling in my mind.
"This is just the beginning," I said quietly, my voice steady, cold. "Tomorrow, I start carving out my path. Not for him, not for anyone else. For me."
The system's notification blinked in front of me, its words etched into my vision like a looming declaration of the future.
[Core fragment capabilities are met. Hubris is willingly submitting to its new evolution.]
A cold, dark space opened before me as I held both the core fragment and Hubris in my hands. The energy radiating from the core fragment pulsated against my palm, and Hubris—my blade, my partner—seemed to hum with anticipation. It wasn't just a weapon anymore; it was alive in its own way, resonating with my will.
With a deep breath, I placed both the core fragment and Hubris into the void. The dark space seemed to ripple and twist as the two items disappeared into it, merging with the shadows before the void sealed itself shut. The energy left behind was palpable, a heavy presence lingering in the air, as though the blade and the fragment were undergoing something monumental.
[Hubris will enter its new tier...]
[The name Hubris allows you to enter its First Release by the command "Reduce everything to ashes." After merging with the core, Hubris will develop a Second Stage for easier access.]
[How do you wish to name the Second Release of Hubris?]
I froze for a moment, staring at the words. A second stage? Hubris was already powerful, an extension of my very being, but this evolution… It was a whole new level. I clenched my fists, the weight of the decision pressing down on me.
"Kaelion is pride knight... And Hubris is what drives me to get stronger," I muttered, my mind racing as I tried to think of a name that would define this next phase. It had to be more than just a title—it needed to embody the essence of what Hubris was becoming.
And then it hit me. A memory from years ago, from my school days, came rushing back. I'd always been fascinated by the Spanish language back then. Something about its elegance, its strength, had stuck with me.
"Hubris... León," I said aloud, the words rolling off my tongue like a declaration. "Hubris León."
The system responded instantly, its tone neutral but carrying a weight of finality.
[Do you wish to state Hubris' full name as "Hubris León"?]
[Yes] [No]
Without hesitation, I pressed "Yes." The moment my finger made contact, a surge of energy coursed through me, strong enough to send a shiver down my spine. The void that had swallowed Hubris and the core fragment glowed faintly, a fiery outline forming in the darkness before fading away.
[The Second Release of Hubris is now in development. Hubris León will rise.]
I exhaled deeply, stepping back as the room returned to silence. My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of anticipation and exhilaration. This wasn't just about power—it was a symbol of the path I was carving for myself, the strength I would wield not for anyone else but for my own survival, my own pride.
I looked at my empty hands, imagining the future where I'd wield Hubris León. A weapon born of my struggles, my ambition, and my unwavering determination to rise above everything that sought to drag me down.
"Let's see where this new power takes us," I whispered to myself, a smirk creeping onto my face. The journey ahead wasn't just about survival anymore. It was about claiming my place, proving to the world—and myself—that I was more than the world expected me to be.
Arlen wiped the sweat from his brow, his muscles burning from the relentless workout he had just finished. For the past week, he had dedicated himself entirely to pushing his body beyond its limits. With Hubris undergoing its evolution, Arlen had no excuse to stay idle. Every waking moment was consumed by training.
He ran through his Daily Quest routine repeatedly, hammering his body into shape. Every park bench became a platform for tricep dips, every set of stairs an opportunity for sprints. He even ventured into public workout stations, using every available piece of equipment to squeeze out every ounce of strength he could muster.
The fire inside him burned brighter with every rep, every run, every bead of sweat. It was no longer just about surviving—it was about conquering. The soreness in his muscles had become his constant companion, a reminder that he was changing.
Then, it happened. As he completed yet another set of pull-ups, the familiar blue system window appeared in front of him.
[It seems the Daily Quest routine is no longer enough for the player.]
[Daily Quest will now enter its Second Tier... Please enjoy.]
Arlen paused, panting heavily, his eyes widening as he read the words. His lips curled into a grin that could only be described as wicked. "Finally," he muttered to himself. "I've been waiting for something harder."
He pressed the notification, and the system loaded up the new training regimen.
---
[Second Tier Daily Quest: Advanced Training Routine]
Objective: Push yourself to new heights with this advanced training program. Complete all tasks daily to receive enhanced rewards.
Warm-Up Phase (20 Minutes):
1. 5-Minute Jog: Start slow, increase pace every minute.
2. Dynamic Stretches: Focus on mobility—lunges, arm circles, and leg swings.
Core Workout (60 Minutes):
1. Weighted Push-Ups: 4 sets of 15 reps, with progressively heavier weights.
2. Sprinting Intervals: 10 rounds of 30 seconds at maximum speed, followed by 1 minute of walking.
3. Burpee Clusters: 3 sets of 20 reps, with 15 seconds rest between sets.
4. Pistol Squats: 3 sets of 12 reps per leg.
Endurance Challenge (30 Minutes):
1. Plank Variations: Hold for a cumulative 10 minutes (e.g., forearm plank, side plank, and reverse plank).
2. Hill Climbs: Sprint up a steep incline or stairs for 15 minutes.
3. Box Jumps: 4 sets of 15 reps, focusing on height and landing control.
Cooldown Phase (15 Minutes):
1. Static Stretches: Target all major muscle groups.
2. Meditation: Focus on breathing, letting your body recover.
---
Arlen read through the list, his grin widening. It was intense—exactly what he wanted.
He immediately got to work. Jogging turned into sprints, push-ups became grueling tests of endurance as he piled weights onto his back. His legs trembled with every pistol squat, but he kept going. He felt his limits being tested, then shattered, with every plank hold and box jump.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Arlen finally finished the day's routine. He collapsed onto the grass, staring up at the sky. His chest heaved, and every muscle screamed in protest, but his mind was alight with determination.
"System, this is exactly what I needed," he muttered between breaths.
For the first time, he felt like he wasn't just reacting to his circumstances—he was taking control, forging himself into a weapon that would be unstoppable. If Hubris was evolving, then so would he.
Tomorrow, he would do it all again.
The sun broke through the blinds as Arlen woke up with a renewed sense of purpose. His body felt stronger than ever after weeks of grueling training. The "devil routine," as he had begun to call it, had pushed him past limits he never thought he could overcome. His muscles were firmer, his stamina unmatched, and his movements quicker and more precise. The fire inside him burned brighter with every passing day, driving him toward his ultimate goal—unshakable strength.
Today was different, though. Today was the day he would see the fruits of his efforts. After two weeks of anticipation, the system finally notified him.
[Congratulations! Hubris Leone has been completed.]
Arlen jumped to his feet, excitement coursing through him like electricity. He summoned the blade immediately, and with a flash of crimson light, it appeared in his hands. The sword was massive, a true greatsword, its sleek and imposing design gleaming with an ominous red hue.
"So... this is it," Arlen whispered, his voice filled with awe as he admired the weapon. It wasn't overly ornate—its design was deceptively simple, with a sharp edge that radiated heat and a faint ember glow running along its spine. Yet, despite its appearance, Arlen could feel the immense power thrumming within it, almost like a heartbeat.
He grinned like a child opening the biggest gift under the Christmas tree.
"It's not just a normal greatsword," he muttered. "There's more to it. I can feel it."
The system brought up its stats.
[Hubris Leone]
Attack Power: 450
Grade: Third Tier Magic Weapon
Attributes: Fire, ???
Arlen's brow furrowed as his eyes locked on the question marks under "Attributes."
"Another attribute? But I don't remember acquiring any other elemental powers... unless..." He paused, holding the sword tighter. "Could it be the core fragment? Did it alter Hubris during its evolution?"
The possibilities swirled in his mind, but there wasn't enough time to dwell on it. The mystery would have to wait for now. Arlen dismissed the blade, sending it back into the system for safekeeping.
"Alright," he said, his voice filled with determination as he began to get ready for the day. He quickly dressed in his training gear, laced up his boots, and packed a few essentials. "It's time for the next step."
Arlen completed his usual Daily Quest routine with renewed vigor, each motion fluid and precise. He could feel the strength he had built over the past weeks paying off. Once finished, he didn't waste any time and headed straight for his car, his mind already on the destination he had chosen for his next adventure.
---
Driving down the road, Arlen gripped the steering wheel tightly, a smirk playing on his lips. His eyes gleamed with a mixture of excitement and determination.
The destination he had chosen was a remote area just outside the city—an abandoned industrial zone with vast, empty warehouses and plenty of open space. It was perfect for his plan to create a new dungeon.
As he drove, his mind wandered to the potential power he could gain from this venture. The strength he craved wasn't just for himself; it was for proving to the world—and to his brother—that he wasn't weak, that he wasn't just a lowly E-rank hunter destined to scrape by in life.
"I'll show them all," Arlen muttered to himself, his grin widening. "This is just the beginning."
He parked his car near the edge of the industrial zone and stepped out, taking a deep breath of the crisp air. The area was eerily quiet, the only sounds coming from the occasional rustle of wind and the distant hum of the city far behind him.
Arlen stretched his arms and rolled his shoulders, feeling the weight of Hubris Leone resting within the system. His heart raced with anticipation as he opened the system interface and navigated to the newly unlocked option: Dungeon Generation.
"Let's see what you've got for me," he said, tapping the screen.
The system responded immediately.
[Dungeon Generation Activated]
Choose Dungeon Type:
Combat-Focused
Puzzle-Oriented
Exploration-Based
Hybrid
Arlen didn't hesitate. "Combat-Focused," he said aloud, his voice firm.
The system continued.
[Choose Environment Setting:]
Urban Ruins
Underground Caverns
Forest Clearing
Volcanic Terrain
Arlen smirked. "Volcanic Terrain. Let's turn up the heat."
A surge of energy erupted from the system, and Arlen watched as the abandoned warehouse in front of him began to shift and change. The ground trembled, cracks forming beneath his feet as molten lava began to seep through the fissures. Jagged rocks jutted from the ground, and the air grew thick with the scent of sulfur and ash.
The transformation was breathtaking, and for a moment, Arlen stood in awe of the hellish landscape that had replaced the desolate industrial zone.
[Dungeon Successfully Generated.]
[Difficulty Level: B-Rank.]
Arlen's smirk grew wider.
"Perfect," he said, stepping into the fiery expanse. "Let's see if this dungeon can keep up with me."
With Hubris Leone by his side and a fire burning in his heart, Arlen ventured deeper into the blazing abyss, ready to test his limits once again. This time, he wouldn't just survive—he would conquer.
After three weeks of intensive training, Arlen Gruz's stats and skills would have improved significantly. Here's how his progress might look after gaining 10 levels (now Level 28) and training diligently with his upgraded routines and quests.
---
[Arlen Gruz] Updated Stats
Level: 18
HP: 2,800 (+950)
Mana: 260 (+100)
Strength: 135 (+30)
Agility: 155 (+35)
Endurance: 200 (+45)
Mana: 200 (+40)
---
Skills (Upgraded through training and experience):
1. Flame's Embrace – Level 6
Effect: Buffs weapon damage with fire, dealing 20% more damage with each strike.
Upgrade: Burn effect now applies to nearby enemies within a 5-foot radius for 3 seconds.
2. Swordsmanship – Level 6
Effect: Increased proficiency with blades, boosting damage, precision, and reaction time.
Upgrade: Can now chain attacks more fluidly, reducing stamina cost by 15%.
3. Ignite Field – Level 4
Effect: Creates a fiery zone that deals AoE damage over time.
Upgrade: Radius increased to 40 feet. Enemies caught in the zone for more than 5 seconds receive reduced movement speed.
4. Sprint – Level 6
Effect: Increases movement speed for short bursts.
Upgrade: Cooldown reduced, and agility increases by 10% during activation.
---
Techniques (Enhanced through training):
1. Divine Piercer – Level 6
Effect: A high-speed thrust attack that pierces defenses and deals critical damage.
Upgrade: Now leaves a lingering heat effect in the wound, dealing damage over time.
2. Molten Surge Slash – Level 6
Effect: A wide, arcing slash imbued with fire that scorches enemies in its path.
Upgrade: Slash generates shockwaves of heat, dealing minor AoE damage to nearby enemies.
----
The volcanic landscape stretched out before me, a vision of raw, untamed beauty. Rivers of molten lava coursed through jagged rocks, casting a fiery glow across the ashen terrain. The heat was oppressive, but I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face as I summoned my greatsword into my hand. Its weight felt reassuring, and with renewed determination, I began exploring the dungeon.
Not long after, I encountered a swarm of lava sprites—small, eerie skull-like creatures that seemed to bob and drift within an endless pool of lava. They left smoldering trails in their wake, their presence quiet yet ominous. At first, they didn't seem like much of a threat.
Without hesitation, I broke into a sprint, the ground cracking beneath the force of my dash. Air whipped around me as I leapt high, my sword cutting through the swarm in one fluid motion. The swing bisected a good number of the sprites, their fragmented forms dissipating into the air like sparks. But those that remained retaliated, each sprite floating apart and pelting me with a barrage of fireballs.
The sight was strangely familiar—almost identical to the fey I had fought in the previous dungeon, though the fireballs here burned with a different intensity. Smirking to myself, I tightened my grip on my sword. "I've dealt with this before," I muttered.
Using another dash, I propelled myself into the air and swung my greatsword in a wide arc. Flame's Embrace flared along the blade, enhancing my strikes with fiery precision. The sprites stood no chance, crumbling one by one until the swarm was no more. The battlefield fell silent, save for the occasional crackle of molten rock.
Yet, as I surveyed the area, I realized I had gained nothing from the fight—not even a single Flowstone.
"This is disappointing… Did my training work too well?" I muttered aloud, frustration creeping into my voice. Memories of the past two weeks surfaced in my mind.
---
[Congratulations! Your willpower has surpassed expectations. You will gain experience from training for a limited time. Work hard!]
---
That notification had spurred me into overdrive. For two weeks, I pushed my body to its limits, honing my skills and maximizing every second. Who would've thought that effort would lead to me skipping such a massive gap in difficulty?
Shaking off my irritation, I continued deeper into the dungeon, greatsword resting on my shoulder. The environment shifted as I walked, evolving from molten rivers to an old industrial zone. The charred remains of machinery dotted the landscape, relics of some bygone era. Volcanos loomed in the distance, their peaks shrouded in ashen smoke, while the plains stretched out in hues of soot and ember. The air was heavy with dust, but to me, it was stunning—a landscape that screamed both destruction and rebirth.
As I wandered further, I found myself in a forest of blackened trees and scorched stone. It was eerily quiet, save for the occasional hiss of distant lava. But there was something else—a presence. I could feel eyes on me, the unmistakable sensation of being hunted.
"Come on, come on~ where are you?" I muttered, scanning the shadows with a mixture of irritation and anticipation. My instincts proved correct when a massive shadow loomed over me, followed by the appearance of colossal jaws snapping dangerously close to my head.
The beast was unlike anything I'd seen before—a towering hound, its fur a smoky gray streaked with fiery embers. Its eyes burned with an intensity that rivaled the volcanic landscape, and its claws dug into the ground, leaving scorch marks in their wake.
"A hellhound? No… just a hound," I said, though the creature's aura was anything but ordinary.
The jaws snapped toward me again, giving me no time to think. Reacting instinctively, I raised my greatsword just in time to block. The hound's upper and lower jaws clamped against the blade, its strength forcing me back a few steps. With a low growl that seemed to reverberate through the ground, the beast released my sword and snarled, rage and pain evident in its fiery gaze.
Fueled by adrenaline, I shouted back, my voice echoing across the plains. "You want to play? Fine!"
The hound's eyes seemed to narrow, its gaze calculating as it sized me up. It was fast—too fast—and I knew I'd have to act quickly. My grip on the hilt tightened, my muscles coiling as I prepared to strike. Before I could make the first move, the beast lunged, its speed rivaling my own when I used Dash.
I barely had time to evade, throwing myself to the side as its jaws snapped shut where I had been standing. Without missing a beat, I dashed around the beast, aiming for its hind legs to immobilize it. My sword swung in a precise arc, but the hound anticipated my move, leaping into the air with an agility that belied its size.
I wasn't about to let it get away. Gritting my teeth, I pushed off the ground, following the beast into the air, ready to meet it head-on.
In the air, both the hound and I hung suspended for a brief moment, each calculating the next move. Without solid ground beneath me, I had little leverage, but that didn't mean I was powerless. Gritting my teeth, I made my decision. Adjusting my grip on the greatsword, I raised it high, as if readying a dart for a precise throw. My body tensed, every muscle coiled as I leaned forward, using all my strength to hurl the weapon at the beast.
The moment I released the sword, the force of the throw sent me backward slightly, but the hound bore the brunt of the attack. My greatsword tore through the air with brutal speed, striking the hound directly in its lower torso. The impact was devastating, knocking the creature out of its mid-air leap and sending it crashing to the ground with a heavy, resounding thud.
I followed swiftly, descending to the ground as a screen of soot and embers erupted from the impact site. The heat and ash stung my skin, but I pushed through, stepping into the haze to assess the damage. "Let's see how you're holding up," I muttered, my voice steady but tinged with curiosity.
As the smoke cleared, the scene unfolded before me. The hound was struggling on its legs, its massive frame trembling under the strain. My greatsword was embedded deep into its lower torso, and fiery blood oozed from the wound, pooling beneath the beast. Its labored breaths sounded more like growls, guttural and filled with pain.
"Well, well, well," I said, a mocking grin spreading across my face. "One little stab, and you're already giving up? I thought you'd put up more of a fight."
The hound's response was not what I expected. It threw its head back and let out a deafening howl, the sound cutting through the ashen air with a ferocity that made my ears ring. I winced, covering my ears instinctively, but the howl wasn't just a cry of pain—it was a call.
The ground beneath me trembled, and a flicker of movement in the shadows caught my eye. My stomach sank as shapes emerged from the soot-covered landscape, glowing eyes piercing the haze. One by one, more hounds stepped into view, each as large and menacing as the one I'd just wounded. Their numbers grew rapidly until I was surrounded on all sides—twenty, maybe thirty of them.
"Damn it," I muttered, scanning the pack. My greatsword was still lodged in the torso of the first hound, leaving me unarmed. I clenched my fists, my mind racing as I tried to formulate a plan. The hounds moved as one, their growls low and synchronized, their burning eyes fixed on me.
The wounded hound rose to its feet, despite the blade still embedded in its body. Its fiery gaze locked onto mine, and I could feel its fury radiating like heatwaves. It barked sharply, a signal to the rest of the pack, and they began to close in.
"Alright, then," I muttered, straightening my posture and taking a deep breath. My heart was pounding, but I wasn't about to back down. "Let's see how far I can get without a weapon."
The first hound lunged, a blur of speed and fire. I sidestepped just in time, narrowly avoiding its snapping jaws. Pivoting on my heel, I drove my fist into the side of its head, using the momentum of its charge against it. The impact sent the hound sprawling, but there was no time to celebrate. Two more rushed me from opposite sides.
I ducked under the first and spun, using a well-timed kick to deflect the second. My foot connected with its jaw, the force sending it skidding across the ground. Sweat dripped down my face as I moved, each dodge and strike more precise than the last.
"Dash!" I called out, activating the skill to give myself a burst of speed. The world around me blurred as I weaved between the pack, avoiding their teeth and claws while delivering quick, punishing blows. Without my greatsword, I relied on raw strength and agility, and my training over the past weeks was paying off.
But the pack was relentless. They attacked in waves, their coordination unnerving. One hound caught me off guard, its claws raking across my arm. I hissed in pain but didn't falter, driving my elbow into its snout to force it back.
"Flame's Embrace!" I shouted, summoning the fiery energy that had become second nature to me. My fists ignited, flames licking up my arms as I struck the next hound that charged. The blow sent it tumbling, its fur singed and smoking.
Even with the fire and fury coursing through me, I knew I couldn't keep this up forever. My movements were slowing, and the pack was adapting, their attacks becoming more calculated. I needed a weapon—and fast.
My eyes darted to the first hound, still standing despite the greatsword lodged in its torso. Its movements were sluggish, but it was far from defeated.
"Fine," I growled, my breath ragged. "You want to keep going? Let's finish this."
With a burst of speed, I dashed toward the wounded hound, dodging the pack as they tried to block my path. Flames trailed behind me, igniting the ashen ground in my wake. As I closed the distance, the hound lunged, jaws wide and teeth glinting.
I dropped into a slide, ducking beneath its attack and closing the gap between us. My hand shot out, gripping the hilt of my greatsword with all my strength. With a roar, I yanked the blade free, the motion sending a spray of fiery blood into the air.
The hound staggered, and I didn't hesitate. Pivoting on my heel, I swung the sword in a wide arc, the flames of Flame's Embrace reigniting along its edge. The blade cut clean through the hound's neck, its massive body collapsing in a heap.
The rest of the pack froze, their eyes shifting between me and their fallen leader. For a moment, the air was still, the only sound my ragged breathing.
Then, one by one, the hounds began to retreat, disappearing into the shadows from which they had come. I stood there, greatsword in hand, my body trembling with exhaustion and adrenaline.
"Looks like... I'm not done yet," I muttered, wiping the sweat from my brow as I prepared to face whatever else this dungeon had in store.
As I thought I might have a moment to catch my breath, the soot and embers around me began to shift unnaturally. It wasn't just falling gently to the ground—it had weight, almost as if it had intent. Suddenly, it tightened around me, clutching me like unseen chains. My instincts screamed, and I looked around frantically, trying to understand what was happening. Then I saw it—a massive figure emerging from the ash and molten debris.
The creature was unlike anything I had ever encountered. A golem, but not the kind I was used to. Its body was a grotesque amalgamation of metal, stone, and machinery. Plates of molten car armor fused haphazardly with chunks of volcanic rock, creating a twisted, uneven surface that radiated heat. Engine parts jutted from its body, pistons and gears grinding ominously, spewing streams of ash and soot with every motion. It moved like a juggernaut, each step shaking the ground and releasing bursts of ember-laden smoke.
This wasn't just a mindless construct; it was something far worse. The way it manipulated the soot and embers around me was almost deliberate. It had control—an ability to command the dust, ash, and even molten slag in its environment. It was as if the entire volcanic landscape was at its beck and call, bending to its will.
My stomach sank as I realized the enormity of what I was facing. "This thing… it's no ordinary golem," I muttered, my voice barely audible over the grinding of its mechanical parts. "Its armor… it's stronger than the warden in the subway dungeon, and that thing nearly killed me. And this isn't even the boss."
Before I could finish my thought, the golem's massive arm shot out. A thick, soot-covered tendril of ash wrapped around me like a whip, lifting me into the air effortlessly. I struggled against it, but its grip was unyielding. With a brutal motion, it slammed me into the ground, the impact rattling every bone in my body. Before I could recover, it dragged me across the rough terrain, tearing into my clothes and leaving a trail of blood and ash in its wake. Finally, it flung me aside like a ragdoll, sending me skidding across the ground.
Pain shot through me as I struggled to get up, my back and arms throbbing from the punishment. "Damn it…" I muttered, coughing up a cloud of soot. My hand found the hilt of my greatsword, and I tightened my grip. This wasn't just a test of strength—this was a battle of survival.
Taking a deep breath, I let the rage and determination within me rise to the surface. "Reduce everything to ashes, Hubris!" I roared, pouring every ounce of my will into the command.
The response was immediate and overwhelming. A fierce geyser of steam and heat erupted around me, enveloping my body and weapon in a blinding flash of energy. The air cracked with raw power as my mana fused with Hubris, awakening its true form for the first time.
When the light and heat subsided, I held the transformed weapon in my hands—and it was magnificent. Hubris had evolved into a colossal Zweihänder, but this was no ordinary sword. The blade was alive with constant heat, glowing a brilliant, fiery red that pulsed like molten lava. Its surface shimmered, the edges radiating an intense, almost blinding light, as if they were perpetually heated to over 1,000 degrees Celsius. Steam rose from the weapon in thick, coiling streams, hissing as it met the cooler air around me.
The hilt was a work of art, crafted from a material that seemed otherworldly. It looked like fire made solid, a flawless combination of molten glass and polished obsidian. It was warm to the touch but never burned, as though it acknowledged me as its rightful wielder. Intricate patterns of flame and ash were etched along the hilt and crossguard, glowing faintly with the same fiery energy as the blade.
The pommel was shaped like a roaring flame, sharp and jagged, emanating a faint crimson light. Runes were carved along its surface, ancient symbols that pulsed in rhythm with the weapon's heat. It felt like holding a piece of the sun itself—dangerous, volatile, but undeniably powerful.
As I gripped Hubris in both hands, I could feel the weapon's will merging with my own. It wasn't just a tool—it was an extension of my strength, my determination, and my rage. This wasn't a weapon meant for defense or restraint. This was a weapon meant to destroy.
I stepped forward, the ground beneath me scorched from the heat radiating off the blade. The golem loomed before me, its mechanical body whirring and grinding, but I wasn't afraid. Not anymore.
"Alright, big guy," I said, leveling Hubris at the massive construct. The sword's heat distorted the air around it, making the golem's form shimmer. "Let's see how you handle this."
The golem let out a metallic roar, its arms shifting as it prepared to attack again. Streams of soot and ember swirled around it, forming dense clouds that blocked out the light. It was a display of raw power, but I wasn't impressed.
Tightening my grip on Hubris, I charged forward, the blade cutting through the ash-filled air like a hot knife through butter. The battle was far from over, but for the first time, I felt like I had the upper hand.
The battlefield trembled under the towering presence of the molten golem as it raised its massive arm. Glowing rivulets of molten debris ran across its surface, each movement accompanied by the sound of grinding metal and hissing steam. Its reinforced armor gleamed with a searing heat, reflecting the hellish environment of the volcanic dungeon. I watched as the creature reassembled itself, patches of molten slag hardening into thick plating that covered its once-vulnerable joints.
The golem seemed to grow more impenetrable with every passing moment, but I refused to back down. My relentless attacks continued, each swing of Hubris striking against its molten body with a fury that sent sparks flying. However, my strikes did little more than chip away at the reinforced plating, and the golem showed no signs of slowing.
"I see now," I muttered, dodging a crushing blow from the golem's massive arm that left a crater where I had just been standing. "The reinforcement works by hardening its armor temporarily, but it sacrifices mobility during that time. If I can exploit that window, I might have a chance."
The golem roared, its molten core pulsing with heat as it charged toward me again. I leaped back, narrowly avoiding another devastating slam that sent molten debris flying in every direction. My mind raced, formulating a plan.
"System!" I shouted, the heat of the battlefield pressing down on me like a physical weight. "Show me Hubris' skills and techniques!"
The system interface appeared before me, the list of abilities and techniques glowing faintly against the backdrop of smoke and flames.
---
[Hubris - Updated Skills and Techniques]
Passive Skill: Scorching Laceration
Description: All damage inflicted by Hubris leaves wounds that burn over time, dealing prolonged fire damage to the enemy.
Fire Strike
Description: Releases a fiery arc with each swing. If Hubris is in physical contact with an object when activated, the strike combusts into a fiery explosion.
Cooldown: 1 minute
Mana Cost: Low
Blazing Disintegration
Description: Channels all flames within a 100-foot radius into a massive fireball. The size and power of the fireball depend on the amount of absorbed fire energy.
Cooldown: 10 minutes
Mana Cost: Medium
Searing Smite
Description: Summons a pillar of fire beneath the enemy that erupts into a massive explosion, dealing catastrophic damage.
Cooldown: 5 hours
Mana Cost: High
Dragon Descent
Description: Enhances physical strength, vitality, and vigor while cloaking the user in a draconic aura. Lasts for 5 minutes but drastically increases fatigue afterward.
Cooldown: 1 day
Mana Cost: Very High
---
[Techniques]
Molten Surge Slash (Lvl 5)
Description: Channels concentrated fire energy into a single devastating slash that explodes on impact.
Divine Piercer
Description: Focuses all available strength into a piercing strike capable of breaking through magical defenses and delivering a critical blow.
Molten Divine Piercer
Description: A combination of Divine Piercer and Molten Surge Slash, unleashing a strike that combines piercing power with explosive fire energy.
---
A smirk spread across my face as I read through the newly evolved skills and techniques. The sheer destructive potential was intoxicating. "Looks like Hubris is ready to show its true power. Let's see what you can do."
The golem roared again, its molten body glowing brighter as it prepared another attack. I gripped Hubris tightly, activating Fire Strike. The blade erupted in a fiery blaze, sending arcs of flame with each swing. I charged toward the golem, weaving through its attacks and landing a series of strikes on its reinforced armor. Each fiery arc exploded on contact, leaving scorch marks and cracks in the plating.
The golem retaliated with a wide swing of its molten arm, forcing me to dodge to the side. I retaliated with Molten Surge Slash, channeling concentrated fire energy into Hubris and unleashing a devastating horizontal strike. The explosion from the attack sent molten debris flying, creating a brief opening in the golem's armor.
"Now we're getting somewhere," I said, my confidence growing.
But the golem wasn't done yet. It raised both arms high above its head, slamming them down with such force that the ground beneath us split apart. A shockwave of molten debris and superheated steam erupted from the impact, sending me flying backward. I hit the ground hard, the heat scorching my skin as I struggled to catch my breath.
"This thing is tougher than I thought," I muttered, gripping Hubris as I pushed myself to my feet.
Realizing I needed to end this quickly, I activated Blazing Disintegration. Hubris began to absorb the flames around us, the blade glowing brighter as the fire energy coalesced into a massive fireball at its tip. The golem roared in defiance, charging toward me with reckless abandon.
"Take this!" I shouted, launching the fireball directly at the golem. The explosion that followed was deafening, a blinding flash of light and heat that engulfed the battlefield. When the smoke cleared, the golem's molten form was cracked and weakened, its movements sluggish.
"Time to finish this," I said, activating Dragon Descent.
A surge of power coursed through my body as a draconic aura enveloped me, my physical strength and vitality reaching new heights. Hubris burned brighter than ever, its blade radiating an intense heat that distorted the air around it. I charged toward the golem, using Molten Divine Piercer to deliver the final blow.
The combination of piercing power and explosive fire energy shattered the golem's molten core, causing its massive body to collapse in a fiery heap. The battlefield fell silent, the only sound being the crackling of molten debris as the golem's remains cooled.
[Congratulations! You have defeated the Molten Golem (Elite). Experience gained: 5000.]
I stood amidst the wreckage, breathing heavily as the draconic aura faded. Hubris returned to its normal state, still glowing faintly from the heat of the battle.
"That was tougher than I expected," I said, a smirk forming on my lips. "But if this is just the beginning, I can't wait to see what comes next."
As I rested in the quiet confines of the abandoned factory, the dull hum of forgotten machinery served as a soothing background. The battle with the molten golem had drained every ounce of energy I had. My mana was almost entirely depleted, my body ached from the intense combat, and I could feel fatigue pulling at me. Yet, a small smile crept onto my lips. I had done it. Another step forward, another challenge overcome.
[Congratulations! You have leveled up: Level 19.]
The notification brought a sense of satisfaction, though I knew I couldn't bask in it for long. My hand tightened around Hubris, the blade still radiating faint warmth from the earlier fight. "That was reckless," I muttered to myself, leaning against the cool steel wall of the factory. My mana reserves were almost non-existent, and every muscle in my body screamed in protest. But there was a trump card I hadn't yet played.
"Full Recovery," I said aloud, activating the ability.
A soothing warmth enveloped me as my body and mana fully restored in an instant. The exhaustion melted away, though I knew the cooldowns on my abilities would remain untouched. Still, it was enough to get me back on my feet and ready for what lay ahead.
I exhaled deeply, staring up at the cracked ceiling of the factory. "One fight down. Who knows how many more to go?"
---
Meanwhile, miles away in Dragona City, a peal of laughter echoed through a spacious living room. A blonde-haired girl lounged lazily on a plush couch, her slender frame sprawled as if she had no care in the world. The TV flickered in front of her, its glow casting a warm light across the room.
"Sevi," a gentle voice called, interrupting the girl's daydream. Her mother, Jen, stood nearby, her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. She wore a warm smile that softened her delicate features as she looked at her daughter. "Your father will be home soon. How about we prepare something for him?"
Selverika, or "Sevi" as she was called, rolled her eyes and groaned. "Dad's just out with Shen in some dungeon again. That's all he ever does." Her tone was laden with teenage annoyance, but there was a subtle warmth beneath her words.
Jen chuckled, crossing the room to sit beside her daughter. She reached out, gently stroking Selverika's hair in a gesture of motherly affection. "Don't worry," she said softly. "Your father wouldn't let anything happen to Shen. You know how much he cares for him. Besides, Shen is exceptionally talented. A B-rank caster at his age is extraordinary!"
Sevi glanced away, her expression suddenly guarded. There was something she was hiding, and Jen noticed it immediately. Her motherly instincts kicked in, and her gentle smile turned into a questioning gaze.
"Sevi… what's going on? What are you hiding?"
The teenager sighed heavily, fidgeting for a moment before reaching for her purse. From it, she retrieved a folded piece of paper and handed it to her mother with reluctance. Jen unfolded the note, her kind eyes scanning the contents. What she read made her breath catch in her throat.
"Selverika…" Jen's voice was filled with disbelief and awe. The paper in her hands was an official document—proof that her daughter had secretly taken the hunter exams. But it wasn't just that. The mana reading listed on the document was over 4,900.
"Sevi," Jen said, her voice trembling slightly. "This reading… it's incredible. Not even your father's mana levels were this high when he started. You're… you're almost at the level of a high A-rank or even a low S-rank! Why didn't you tell us?"
Selverika turned away, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Because I didn't want Dad to know," she admitted quietly. "I didn't even want to take the exam, but some friends from school convinced me. I'm not going to be a hunter, Mom. I've told you that before. I don't want to risk my life out there. I just want to stay here… with you."
Jen's heart ached at her daughter's words. She reached out, pulling Selverika into a tight hug. "Oh, sweetheart," she murmured, stroking her daughter's hair. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. But you have an incredible gift. You should be proud of that, even if you never choose to use it."
Selverika relaxed into her mother's embrace, feeling a sense of comfort she hadn't realized she needed. "Thanks, Mom," she whispered.
Jen pulled back slightly, looking into her daughter's eyes with a gentle smile. "Just promise me one thing," she said. "If you ever change your mind… if you ever decide to step into that world, tell your father and me first. We'll be there for you every step of the way."
Selverika nodded, her resolve firm. "I promise."
---
Back in the factory, I stood and stretched, feeling the energy from the Full Recovery coursing through me. My rest was over, and the next part of the dungeon awaited. As I prepared to move forward, I couldn't help but think about the battles ahead. My journey was far from over, but with Hubris at my side, I felt ready for whatever came next.
"Let's see what else this dungeon has in store," I said, a grin spreading across my face as I stepped into the unknown.
The glowing system window hovered in front of me, its text slowly unveiling itself as if teasing me with its revelations.
[Your strength and skills are reaching the peak of your human limits. Job allocation is now available. Shop access unlocked.]
I frowned, tilting my head as I muttered aloud, "Shop?" The word felt strange to say, its meaning vague, yet the system seemed determined to provide clarity. The window shifted, and a new description emerged.
[Shop: Allows you to spend currency to buy gear, potions, weapons, and other items.]
"Currency?" I asked again, my voice tinged with confusion and curiosity. As if in response, the text shifted once more.
[The currency is EXP.]
For a moment, I stared blankly at the words, my mind struggling to process the implications. Spending experience points—the very foundation of my growth—on items instead of leveling up? It was a trade-off that seemed absurd, even cruel. My hand clenched around Hubris as I muttered, "I see. I can spend my EXP to buy myself something useful, but doing so could slow my progression… or worse, make me weaker if I lose a level. Such a system… isn't that a bit harsh?"
The system, as always, offered no response to my musings. Its silence was maddening, but I'd grown used to it. With a resigned sigh, I decided to test this new feature. "Fine. Let's see what you have to offer," I said, opening the shop menu.
The interface shifted, revealing a list of items and their respective costs. Weapons, armor, potions, and miscellaneous trinkets scrolled before my eyes. My gaze quickly landed on a section labeled Consumables, and I tapped on it.
There they were—refresh potions and mana potions. The descriptions were straightforward:
[Refresh Potion: Instantly removes fatigue and restores stamina. Cost: 200 EXP]
[Mana Potion: Fully replenishes mana reserves. Cost: 300 EXP]
I hesitated, the weight of the decision pressing down on me. Spending 500 EXP for temporary relief was a steep price, but the battle with the molten golem had taken its toll. My muscles still ached, and though Full Recovery had restored my physical state, the mental strain lingered.
"Guess I'll treat myself," I muttered, selecting one refresh potion and one mana potion. The screen flickered as my EXP count visibly dropped.
[Transaction complete. Items have been added to your inventory.]
I reached into the inventory and pulled out the glowing vials, their liquid contents swirling with an almost hypnotic shimmer. Without hesitation, I uncorked the refresh potion and downed it in one gulp. A cooling sensation spread through my body, the fatigue in my muscles evaporating almost instantly. I followed it with the mana potion, feeling a rush of energy flood my system as my mana reserves were restored to their peak.
"Not bad," I admitted, tucking the empty vials back into my inventory. "Expensive, but effective."
With my stamina and mana back to full, I felt renewed, ready to face whatever lay ahead in this dungeon. As the shop window closed, I couldn't help but wonder what other secrets the system was hiding—and what the "job allocation" it mentioned earlier truly meant.
"Well, one thing at a time," I muttered, gripping Hubris tightly as I made my way deeper into the factory. The eerie silence was broken only by the faint hum of machinery in the distance, a reminder that this place still held challenges—and rewards—worth exploring.
Arlen stepped out of the save spot, his expression calm but his eyes blazing with determination. As he ventured deeper into the dungeon, the next challenge presented itself: strange humanoid figures made entirely of jagged rocks, their forms clunky yet intimidating. They moved with a slow but deliberate menace, their heavy steps echoing through the molten caverns.
But to Arlen, they were nothing more than obstacles. "Rock people, huh?" he muttered, gripping Hubris tightly. With a single leap, he closed the distance, his powerful legs launching him into the fray. Each swing of his blade smashed through the rocky bodies, shattering them into clouds of dust and debris. It was a frenzy, a horde not unlike the one he'd faced before, but this time he felt different.
Every movement was sharper, faster, and more precise. His body was no longer bound by the limitations it once had. The ground cracked beneath his feet with each landing, yet his legs bore the strain without faltering. He felt unstoppable, a force of nature unleashed.
As the last of the rock creatures crumbled, Arlen stood amidst the ruins, his chest heaving as a fierce grin spread across his face. "I can feel it," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "I can feel my body like never before. Each jump, each strike… the old me would have broken under this strain. But now? Now I'm nothing like I used to be."
He raised Hubris, its heat shimmering in the dim light of the cavern, and let out a shout that echoed through the dungeon. "I will surpass Kaelion. I will surpass everyone in my path!" With that declaration, he pressed forward, clearing the dungeon with relentless energy, his heart pounding with the thrill of his newfound power.
---
Meanwhile, in the Iron Bastion...
Merika stood in the center of the gym, her body poised in a perfect arch as she executed a complex gymnastics routine. Her white leotard clung to her athletic frame, a testament to her dedication to staying in peak condition. Around her, other guild members stole glances, their eyes lingering on her figure. She felt their stares like needles, her irritation mounting with each passing second.
When she finished her routine, she whipped around to face the gawking onlookers. "Got something to say?" she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut through steel. When no one responded, she stormed over and grabbed one of the offenders by the collar. "Maybe you'd like to explain why you're staring instead of training."
With a swift punch, she sent the unfortunate man sprawling. The others quickly averted their eyes, muttering apologies. Merika sighed in frustration. "This is why we need separate gyms," she muttered under her breath, her annoyance tempered by a deeper, more personal concern.
Her thoughts drifted to Arlen. It had been months since she'd last seen him, and his absence weighed on her mind. She'd even checked his activity logs, only to find that he hadn't entered a raid in weeks. "What is he doing?" she wondered aloud, her curiosity growing.
As if on cue, her friend Jen approached, waving cheerfully. Merika set aside her thoughts and joined Jen, the two of them striking up a conversation. But even as they laughed and chatted, a part of Merika's mind remained fixated on Arlen.
---
Elsewhere, in Estelar's home...
Estelar sat in his study, engaged in a lively conversation with his second-born son, Arik. The young man was a prodigy, an A-rank hunter with incredible potential. Yet despite his impressive stats and abilities, Arik struggled to choose a class.
"I just don't know, Dad," Arik admitted, running a hand through his hair. "I've tried everything, but nothing feels… right."
Estelar leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. "Finding your path takes time, son. You've got the talent, no doubt about that. But talent isn't everything. You need purpose, something that drives you."
Arik nodded, but his uncertainty remained evident. Meanwhile, Selverika sat quietly at the dining table, her nose buried in a textbook. The eldest sibling of the family, she was the picture of discipline and focus. Yet even as she studied, her sharp mind couldn't help but pick up on the conversation.
"Maybe he's just overthinking it," Selverika said without looking up, her voice calm and composed.
Arik shot her a playful glare. "Easy for you to say, Miss Perfect. You don't have to choose a class to save the world."
Selverika smirked, finally lifting her gaze to meet his. "Maybe. But if I did, I wouldn't waste time second-guessing myself."
Their father chuckled, the sound warm and full of pride. "You two are more alike than you realize," he said, shaking his head.
As the family bantered, a strange feeling settled over Estelar. He couldn't explain it, but he felt as if something significant was happening, far beyond their home. A storm was brewing, and though he didn't know where or when it would strike, he was certain it would change their lives forever.
"Tsk, like you know anything," Arik snapped, his words sharp as a blade. He glared at his older sister, the frustration building up within him. "You didn't even want to take the test for the hunter exams, and yet you think you have it easier than me?"
Selverika sighed, her voice calm but laced with quiet frustration. "Yes, I didn't take the test. And what? I don't want to risk my life out there in that world. I'd rather enjoy my time here with Mom and Dad than face the dangers that come with being a hunter. Look at Uncle Arlen. Look at how he ended up."
Her words hit a nerve, especially with Estelar standing nearby. His eyes narrowed, his face hardening in anger. The mention of Arlen stung deeply, more than he expected. His brother had always been a point of pride for him, and hearing Selverika use Arlen's struggles as a cautionary tale only fueled his frustration.
"Don't talk about your uncle like that!" Estelar barked, his voice a low growl. "My brother might be an E-rank hunter, but he does everything he can, day in and day out. He works harder than anyone I know. Unlike you two, who have it easy with your S-rank and A-rank genes. You don't understand what it takes to fight in this world. Uncle Arlen does everything because he wants to, not because it's handed to him."
Selverika flinched at the sharpness of her father's tone, her posture stiffening. She opened her mouth to respond but stopped herself, her thoughts shifting to something deeper. She had always known her father's pride in his brother, but hearing him defend Arlen like this made her feel like an outsider in her own home.
---
Meanwhile, in the changing room of the Iron Bastion, Merika and Jen were getting ready, preparing for another day of training. Merika eyed Jen curiously as she slipped into her outfit, noting her friend's unusually subdued demeanor. Jen was usually full of energy, but today something felt off.
"Are you sure, Jen?" Merika asked, her voice tinged with concern. "Retiring? You're not even that old, what's the occasion?"
Jen looked down, her hand instinctively resting on her belly. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she avoided Merika's gaze, the weight of her thoughts clearly pressing down on her. "Merika, it's not my fault. Estelar wants a big family. I love him, and we both want to make sure our children have everything they need. But..." She trailed off, her voice barely audible. "He wants this one to be the last. He's scared about my health."
Merika's eyes widened in realization, her jaw dropping in surprise. "Wait, this is your fourth child? Jen, you should be careful...," she said, her tone gentle, but concerned. "You've got to think about your health. It's not easy raising a family like that, especially with everything going on."
Jen smiled weakly, her eyes flickering with a hint of worry. "I know, Merika. But Estelar insists. He wants to be there for me, for all of us. He wants to provide for the family. But he's worried, and I don't blame him. But I told him I'm fine. I can handle it... I think two or three children is enough for us, maybe."
Merika's mind was reeling. "Two or three? Weren't you the one who always said one kid was enough?" she asked, a bit of disbelief slipping into her voice.
Jen giggled softly, a playful glint returning to her eyes. "Times change. You know how it is."
With a shrug and a smile, she clapped her hands together, the conversation turning lighter. "Hurry, let's go. Estelar's waiting for us, and we can't keep him waiting too long."
---
Back in Estelar's home, tensions simmered, and family dynamics shifted. His heart, though filled with love for his children, couldn't help but feel torn. The desire to protect his family clashed with the harsh realities of the world they lived in. And as he stared at the silent form of Selverika, lost in her books, his thoughts turned to the future, the challenges awaiting them all.
Despite everything, he couldn't shake the feeling that Arlen's path, the one filled with struggle and sacrifice, was one that had marked the beginning of something greater for their family. But would his children ever understand that? Or would they be content living in the safe, comfortable bubble they had known all their lives?
Arlen, the E-rank hunter, might be the catalyst that propelled them all forward into the unknown. Yet, as the world shifted and danger loomed on the horizon, Estelar couldn't help but wonder what path his children would choose—and what it would mean for the future of their family.
Arlen's footsteps echoed in the silent remnants of the shattered rock bodies as he walked, his blade resting over his shoulder, dripping with the remnants of the enemies he had just slain. His heart raced with excitement, each encounter fueling his spirit further, the thrill of battle coursing through his veins. The dungeon's air was thick with heat and ash, yet he felt invigorated, more alive than ever. It wasn't just about surviving anymore—it was about pushing himself to the absolute limit.
Reaching down, he grabbed the corrupted Flowstones scattered across the battlefield. The stones pulsed with an eerie, dark energy, their sharp edges gleaming in the fiery light of the volcano. Without hesitation, he bit into one of the stones, feeling the raw, potent power surge through him as his mana surged with renewed strength. The pain was sharp, like fire through his chest, but it was nothing compared to the surge of power that followed.
His body hummed with energy, a power that made him feel unstoppable. As he glanced at the surrounding battlefield, the glow of the Flowstone embedded in his body, he felt his vision sharpen. The flames, the rocks, the molten streams—everything around him seemed to pulse with life, like the world itself was his to conquer.
With his mana fully replenished, Arlen wasted no time. He charged forward, heading toward what seemed like the end of the dungeon. The path ahead was treacherous, a steep climb up the face of the volcano, the rock slippery and uneven beneath his boots. But none of that mattered to him. He was on a mission—one he had set his mind to the moment he entered this place, and nothing would slow him down.
Suddenly, the ground shook beneath him. The air around him crackled with the intense heat as a fire spirit emerged from the volcanic depths. Its form was wreathed in flames, its eyes burning with fury. Arlen's pulse quickened as he drew his blade, the excitement of yet another challenge rising in him like a tidal wave. With a primal roar, the fire spirit lunged, sending torrents of flame cascading toward him.
Arlen's reaction was instantaneous. He dashed forward, his greatsword cutting through the air with precise, fluid strikes. Each swing was a testament to his growth, each movement imbued with the power he had gained. With a powerful slash, the spirit's form disintegrated into ashes, the flames flickering out in an instant. But before he could savor the victory, the ground trembled again, and another force appeared.
A massive golem, its body forged from molten rock and steel, rose from the depths of the volcano. Its fiery red eyes glowed menacingly as it took a step toward Arlen. The golem's massive fists clenched as it swung them down with enough force to send shockwaves rippling through the ground. Arlen didn't hesitate. His heart pounded with adrenaline, his body moving on instinct.
"Is this all you've got?" he muttered, his grin widening.
He met the golem head-on, his greatsword clashing against the creature's reinforced armor with a deafening ring. The golem staggered slightly but quickly recovered, its molten body twisting and turning as it prepared for another attack. Arlen, however, was already in motion. He dodged to the side, using the environment to his advantage, before launching himself into the air with a powerful leap.
The battle raged on. Each encounter felt like a dance—one that Arlen had learned to master with every step. His strikes grew more precise, his movements faster, the overwhelming weight of his previous fatigue disappearing under the influence of the Flowstones and the growing strength of his resolve. He felt no fear, no hesitation—only the thrill of the fight.
And so, Arlen pressed onward. Each fight, each battle brought him closer to the top of the volcano, closer to whatever awaited him at the end of the dungeon. The heat didn't bother him anymore. The smoke and ash that choked the air were nothing more than a backdrop to the chaos unfolding around him. With every enemy he vanquished, he felt his resolve harden, his power grow, and his purpose crystallize.
He was no longer the man who had entered this dungeon with uncertainty. He had become something more, something greater. He was alive, in a way he had never felt before.
With each passing moment, the volcano seemed to tower higher before him, its peak just beyond his reach. But it wasn't the summit that drove him forward—it was the journey, the relentless pursuit of strength, the fire in his heart that refused to be quenched.
And so he climbed, higher and higher, cutting through the forces that stood in his way. The world around him was nothing but a blur of fire, smoke, and steel. The thrill of the hunt, the joy of battle, filled him with purpose. Nothing could stop him now.
He would ascend this volcano. He would conquer the dungeon. And nothing would stand in his way.
As Arlen stood at the peak of the volcano, his eyes scanning the darkened horizon, a feeling of unease washed over him. The winds howled through the fiery landscape, yet his heart raced not from the surrounding danger, but from the notification that suddenly flashed before his eyes.
The System's familiar voice broke through the silence in his mind.
---
[Congratulations! You have reached the boss room! Your job is also waiting for you!]
[After watching your growth, these are the best classes and jobs for you.]
---
Arlen's mind raced as the words flickered into view. His journey up the volcano had been treacherous, each battle harder than the last. Golems, flame spirits, and beasts had been nothing but stepping stones leading him to this very moment. But what the System presented him with now... was almost too much to comprehend.
---
[Congratulations! Your job has been chosen!]
[You are now a Chronomancer!]
---
Arlen's heart skipped a beat. Chronomancer? That was a name he hadn't expected. A rare class that manipulated time itself. It wasn't just about combat anymore. It was about controlling the very fabric of reality. His grip tightened around Hubris, the blade of Aether that had been his constant companion throughout this trial. Time manipulation would offer endless possibilities, but it also came with enormous risks.
Before he could even process what had just happened, another notification popped up.
---
[PLEASE CHOOSE YOUR CLASS]
Knight
Great Weapon Master
Samurai
Barbarian
---
Arlen stared at the options, frustration bubbling inside him. His fist clenched around the hilt of Hubris, his knuckles turning white.
---
"What... is this bullshit?!" he shouted aloud, the sound of his voice echoing across the desolate landscape. He had expected something more suited to his current path, a class that reflected his mastery over Hubris, the Aetheric blade, and his connection to space and time. But instead, the choices before him seemed... primitive, generic.
A Knight—a disciplined fighter, bound by honor and defense.
A Great Weapon Master—more power for wielding big weapons, but where was the finesse?
A Samurai—elegance, discipline, and precision, but it hardly felt fitting after everything he had been through.
A Barbarian—raw power, savage instincts, and rage. But that wasn't what he was anymore.
---
"None of this... None of this makes sense," Arlen muttered under his breath, his frustration growing. The Chronomancer job had unlocked a power he barely understood, yet the System was offering him choices that didn't even seem to align with the abilities he'd gained.
His body tensed as the weight of the moment sunk in. Had he not earned something more fitting for his potential? His blade, his journey—everything he had done had led him here, yet this was the best the System had to offer?
He was a Chronomancer, someone who would control time, manipulate it, twist it to his will. So why was he being offered these outdated, basic options? Was it a test? Or was the System simply failing to understand him?
He stared at the list again, trying to ignore the chaos of his emotions. His mind raced. What would each class bring? Was one of them an illusion? Or worse... would picking one of these choices lock him into something that would cripple his future growth?
He could feel his heartbeat pounding in his chest as he weighed each option carefully.
The Knight would offer him great defense, a solid foundation for combat—but it was so... stale. Not what he needed anymore.
The Great Weapon Master could improve his already considerable strength and skill with Hubris, but that wouldn't expand his horizons. He had grown beyond just raw power.
The Samurai might enhance his swordsmanship, add precision to his already honed abilities, but he wasn't here to simply strike with beauty or grace. He wanted to break through limits.
The Barbarian could fuel his rage and increase his strength, but it seemed like the least aligned with his journey toward control, mastery, and understanding. He was no savage.
A sudden flash of clarity struck him.
"What if none of these fit me at all?"
Arlen's eyes burned with frustration as he stood atop the volcano, Hubris clenched in his hand, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. His journey had brought him so far—fighting through enemies, growing stronger, and finally reaching the peak. But now, faced with an unexpected choice, his confidence began to waver.
"My job… Chronomancer…" Arlen muttered to himself, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. "And all I'm doing is swinging a sword with fire powers? What kind of sudden turn of events is this?!"
His voice rose, frustration spilling out as his fists clenched.
"Kaelion! Answer me! What is this?!" he shouted, the words echoing through the air. He slammed the ground with a heavy thud, his rage making the very earth tremble beneath him.
The System was silent for a moment, as if assessing the weight of Arlen's frustration. Then, a new window appeared in front of him, flashing before his eyes.
[Kaelion finds your style, and his is different. You are meant to continue the legacy, not to copy it.]
Arlen's chest tightened. The mention of Kaelion—his predecessor, a name that lingered in the annals of history—struck a chord deep within him. But before he could let his thoughts spiral further, another line of text appeared, one that answered his questions but raised even more.
[You are the fourth holder of this system. Each time it passes to a new user, it forges a new path for those who have reached the peak of their human limits, like your predecessors.]
[Xarathrax, the First Holder, who created the Legacy System when he became the Dragon Emperor.]
[Gravethorn, the Second Holder, who enjoyed death itself and became the very essence of death.]
[Kaelion, the Third Holder, whose bravery was so immense that his story was forgotten in the name of gods, becoming a legendary hero.]
[Arlen, you are the Fourth user of this system. And the job given to you is 'Chronomancer.']
Arlen staggered back slightly, the weight of the information sinking in. Chronomancer. The System had chosen him, just as it had chosen those before him. But to be part of a legacy so vast, so monumental, made him feel small. The pressure was suffocating. His gaze dropped to the ground, his mind struggling to process what he had just learned.
"This legacy… it's bigger than I thought," Arlen muttered, his voice strained with realization. "I didn't… I didn't expect this."
For a moment, Arlen stood there, struggling to come to terms with the gravity of what he had just uncovered. His connection to Xarathrax, Gravethorn, and Kaelion—three legendary figures whose powers and stories were woven into the fabric of the System—was undeniable. But the weight of their legacies was heavy, and the pressure to live up to their expectations was overwhelming.
But then, a sense of clarity began to form within him. His mind sharpened. He knew that he wasn't just a shadow of those who came before him. He wasn't bound to follow in their footsteps. Arlen was his own person, with his own path. The Chronomancer job was his gift, his challenge.
He wouldn't let the weight of the legacy crush him. He would carve out his own story.
Arlen's chest heaved as he stood at the precipice of the volcano, the fiery abyss below reflecting the turbulent storm of thoughts swirling within him. His grip on Hubris tightened, his knuckles white with frustration as his mind raced. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat laced with uncertainty and confusion.
"If I am meant to continue the legacy…" Arlen muttered to himself, his voice trembling with the weight of the question. The words seemed to hang in the air, as if the universe itself might answer him. But there was nothing. Only silence.
The System, that ever-present force that had guided his every step, remained completely indifferent to his outburst. He could feel the anger rising within him.
"Legacy of what?" he demanded, his eyes burning with intensity. "What is this? I don't feel like this is all I wanted!"
Arlen's voice broke the stillness of the volcano's peak, echoing off the jagged rocks and into the vast emptiness. The air crackled with his frustration, but the silence from the System persisted. No answers. Just an oppressive void that only deepened his sense of isolation.
"Tell me the answer! I deserve to know!" His voice thundered, the fury in his words reverberating through the volcanic air. But still, there was no response. Nothing. Just the oppressive weight of the world pressing down on him.
Arlen's hands shook, his breath ragged, and he could feel his body brimming with power, yet his soul was adrift in confusion. The legacy, the System, everything that had led him here—none of it made sense. What was his true purpose? Why had he been chosen? What did it mean to continue the legacy?
In his mind, he could see the faces of the predecessors before him—Xarathrax, Gravethorn, and Kaelion—all powerful figures whose paths had been etched in history. Their legacies had been clear, their roles unmistakable. But what about him? What was Arlen meant to do? What did the System want from him?
With a heavy sigh, Arlen wiped the sweat from his brow and took a step back from the edge of the volcano, trying to clear his mind. The unanswered questions clawed at him, but there was nothing more he could do.
"Damn it... what is all this?" he muttered under his breath.
The air around him seemed to grow colder, darker, as if reflecting his inner turmoil. But there was no time to linger in doubt. He had come this far, and he couldn't afford to back down now. He had to confront whatever awaited him at the top of the volcano.
With a resigned grunt, Arlen adjusted his grip on Hubris, the blade's fiery aura flickering in his hands. His mind snapped back to focus. He was here for a reason—whether he understood that reason or not.
He walked toward the entrance of the cavern at the peak, his steps deliberate and measured. The world around him seemed to pulse with the rhythm of his thoughts, a strange blend of anticipation and dread. He couldn't shake the feeling that something monumental was about to unfold.
He could feel it now—the presence.
As Arlen entered the final stretch of the volcano's summit, the heat became nearly unbearable. The air thickened with the scent of sulfur, and the ground trembled beneath his feet. He reached the entrance of the boss room, where the atmosphere was heavy with an oppressive energy. The ground before him was cracked and scorched, as though something immense had just been summoned into this place.
There, standing at the center of the room, was the boss—a towering creature made of molten stone and flickering magma. It exuded an aura of power, its molten core pulsing with fiery intensity. Its eyes, if they could be called eyes, were like pools of liquid lava, glowing with an almost sentient malice. The boss was an elemental force in and of itself, a creature that seemed to embody the very fury of the volcano.
Arlen felt the heat radiating off the boss, the sheer power of it almost suffocating. But instead of fear, there was only resolve. Whatever this creature was, it was not going to stand in his way. He had come too far, fought too hard to let anything stop him now.
As the boss reared back, preparing to unleash a devastating strike, Arlen's focus sharpened. His mind cleared of doubt. Chronomancer or not, he was no longer bound by the constraints of his predecessors. The power that had chosen him was his to wield. His path was his own.
And he would carve his own legacy.
Without a second thought, Arlen charged forward, Hubris raised high. The ground beneath him cracked and splintered as his immense speed collided with the earth, propelling him toward the molten beast.
With a roar, the boss hurled a wave of fiery energy toward him, but Arlen was already moving—slipping through time itself. The world slowed around him as he activated his Chronomancer abilities, warping the very flow of time to his advantage.
The fiery blast passed him by, inches from his skin, as Arlen closed the distance. With a powerful swing of Hubris, the blade collided with the boss's molten exterior, the impact sending shockwaves through the room. The blade's fiery aura cut deep into the creature's stone body, but it wasn't enough.
The boss retaliated with a devastating blow, its massive arm swinging toward Arlen. But before the strike could connect, Arlen's form blurred again, time itself bending to his will as he vanished from the line of attack.
This was his moment.
Time was his to control, and with each step, each strike, Arlen was rewriting the rules of combat. The lava-covered monster roared in fury as it tried to retaliate, but Arlen was already there—wherever there was. Hubris cleaved through the molten armor of the beast, and every strike was a testament to his power.
Arlen felt alive in a way he never had before, a man out of time, carving his own path. No longer just a vessel for the legacy, no longer just a shadow of the past. He was something new. And this was only the beginning.
The boss faltered, its movements slowing as Arlen's relentless assault wore it down. With one final, devastating strike, Arlen pierced the creature's core, sending an explosion of molten energy cascading through the room.
The boss collapsed, its massive form crumbling into ash and slag, leaving only the heat and the aftermath of battle.
Arlen stood victorious, chest heaving, the echoes of his triumph reverberating through the volcano's chamber.
"This is my legacy." he whispered to himself, a smirk tugging at his lips. "And it's only just begun."
Arlen felt the weight of the moment settle heavily on his shoulders as the system notification appeared before him, announcing the class he had been granted.
[Congratulation... Your class is now Knight!]
The words hung in the air, and Arlen stared at them for a long moment, his thoughts swirling. Knight. The class he had received was so... ordinary. So traditional. It wasn't the path of chaos and destruction he had imagined for himself. No fiery power, no grand abilities like those of the ancient heroes he'd heard stories about. Just... a knight. A symbol of honor, duty, and rigid discipline.
"Knight?" he muttered to himself, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. "This... This is what I get?"
A deep sigh escaped his lips as he began to process the reality of his new class. Knights were known for their discipline and their unwavering will in battle. They were protectors, defenders of those who couldn't defend themselves. Their power was rooted in their steady resolve, their steel-like will. And, above all, they wielded weapons with grace and precision, not wild, unfettered fury.
The more he thought about it, the more Arlen realized the truth: this class wasn't about raw power or unleashed chaos. It was about control. About being the calm in the storm, standing firm against whatever the world threw at you. It wasn't the kind of class he had envisioned for himself, but perhaps it was the class he needed to become something greater.
[Knight Class Abilities]
Defensive Stance: Temporarily boosts defense and fortifies your body against incoming attacks. The more you hold your ground, the more resilient you become.
Sword Mastery: Increases proficiency with swords, enhancing your speed, precision, and overall skill with the weapon.
Vanguard's Resolve: When your allies are in danger, your will to protect them grows stronger. This ability temporarily increases your attack and defense stats when you fight to defend others.
Knight's Oath: Swear an oath to never retreat from battle. For a limited time, you gain increased power in combat and become immune to fear-based abilities.
Arlen ran his eyes over the abilities. They were simple. Practical. Efficient. The abilities weren't designed to devastate an enemy with overwhelming force, but to control the flow of a battle with methodical precision. It was the opposite of the chaos he had felt when using Hubris's flame-based attacks. This was the essence of defense, of protection. It was about holding the line, standing firm, and maintaining an unwavering presence, no matter the odds.
"It's... not exactly what I was hoping for," Arlen muttered, feeling the weight of his new class settling into his body. But then again, he knew there was power in discipline. There was strength in structure. Maybe this was the key to controlling the chaos inside him — not by rampaging through the battlefield, but by standing firm, grounded in purpose.
His grip on Hubris tightened as a new sense of purpose began to form within him. The sword felt different now. With the Knight class coursing through his veins, his body felt stronger, more centered. The usual weight of the weapon had changed — no longer was it just an instrument of destruction. It was now a tool for precision, a reflection of his new sense of discipline.
"Alright," Arlen said, his voice resolute. "Let's see what this Knight class can really do."
He felt an aura of calm wash over him, and with that, a quiet confidence. He wasn't a berserker, nor a fiery destroyer. He was a knight — a defender, a protector. And whatever awaited him in the boss room, he would meet it with the resolve of someone who had sworn an oath to never falter.
Without hesitation, he stepped toward the entrance to the boss room, his sword raised and his heart steady.