The entrance to the C-Class Dungeon loomed ahead, a swirling vortex of dark energy embedded in the ruins of an old shopping mall. It pulsed like a beating heart, casting eerie shadows on the cracked pavement.
Hunters moved around the perimeter, checking weapons, adjusting armor, and murmuring strategies.
Asher watched from the distance.
He wasn't supposed to be here.
D-Ranks weren't allowed into C-Rank Dungeons alone. The risk was too high. The monsters too strong.
But Asher didn't care.
He adjusted the strap of his newly purchased combat gear simple, reinforced black clothing that offered flexibility over defense. No fancy armor. No high-tech weapons. Just a sturdy blade at his waist and a small bag of supplies.
"Hey, kid!"
A hunter with a scar across his face waved him over. His party stood nearby, a team of five well-equipped warriors.
"You looking to enter?" Scarface smirked. "This isn't a playground. D-Ranks like you get eaten alive in there."
Asher met his gaze. "I'll manage."
Scarface chuckled. "You got guts. But guts won't keep you alive. Stick with us we'll carry you through for a cut of your profits."
Asher studied them. Their posture was off. Their weapons were clean. They weren't real hunters. They were scavengers people who used weaklings as bait to test monster aggression.
He smiled.
"No thanks."
Then, without waiting for a response, he walked past them straight into the dungeon.
The moment he crossed the threshold, the world shifted.
A wave of cold air hit him first.
The sky disappeared. The city was gone. He now stood in an endless cavern, illuminated by glowing red veins in the stone walls.
The ground beneath him was uneven, covered in strange black moss.
The smell of rotting flesh filled the air.
Asher exhaled slowly. His hands did not tremble.
The memories of battle the countless wars he had fought in his past life resurfaced.
He drew his sword.
Time to hunt.
A deep, guttural snarl echoed through the cavern.
Asher turned his head.
A creature crawled out of the shadows.
It was hunched over, moving on all fours. Its limbs were long and sinewy, its skin pale gray, stretched tight over its bones. Its mouth was too wide, filled with jagged teeth.
A Lurker.
Low intelligence. High speed. Brutal instincts.
It locked onto him, sniffing the air.
Then it charged.
Most D-Rank hunters would panic.
Asher stepped forward.
The Lurker lunged, claws aiming for his throat.
But Asher was already moving.
His blade sliced cleanly through its wrist.
A shriek of agony. Black blood sprayed into the air.
The Lurker stumbled back, but Asher didn't give it a chance to recover.
One step. Two steps.
His sword buried itself into its chest.
A final, choked gasp.
The Lurker collapsed.
Silence.
Asher withdrew his blade.
His first monster kill.
But he didn't feel excitement.
He felt nothing.
He turned away, moving deeper into the dungeon.
There were more to kill.
Asher continued forward.
He had killed six Lurkers so far. Each fight was easier than the last.
His instincts sharpened. His movements became more precise.
But something bothered him.
His body wasn't tiring.
Normally, a D-Rank would struggle to fight more than two monsters before exhaustion set in. Yet, Asher's stamina remained steady.
His strength didn't falter.
He should have been weak. But instead he felt stronger.
Asher stopped walking.
He clenched his fists.
The D-Rank Awakening Stone was wrong.
I'm not weak.
Something is changing.
He looked at his reflection in a nearby pool of water.
For a split second he saw something behind him.
A shadow. Moving on its own.
Then, it was gone.
Asher narrowed his eyes.
Something was awakening inside him.
And he was going to find out what.
A sudden shift in the air.
Asher's instincts screamed.
He turned just as a new monster stepped into view.
It was not a Lurker.
This one was bigger. Taller than any human, with a muscular frame covered in blackened armor-like skin. Its eyes burned with a deep crimson glow.
A C-Rank Elite Monster.
Its presence alone was suffocating.
Hunters usually fought these creatures in groups. Alone, a D-Rank had no chance of survival.
The monster stared at Asher.
Then, it grinned.
Asher tightened his grip on his sword.
He wasn't going to run.