Leo's heart thundered as the icon lit up in the center of his vision.
He didn't hesitate.
"Meteor Slash!" he shouted.
The sword in his hand flared red-hot. He slammed it into the ground with everything he had.
A pulse of searing light burst outward. Fiery, immediate, and devastating. The shockwave tore across the cavern floor, carving a glowing trench and engulfing a full circle of slimes in its path. They didn't melt, they detonated. Popped like eggs under a hammer.
The heat hit his face like an open furnace.
Crackling flames spilled out in a perfect ring around him. Smoke curled up, thick with the tang of burning gelatin. Slimes outside the blast radius rushed forward without hesitation, only to sizzle, hiss, and collapse as the lingering flames took hold.
They kept coming.
They kept dying.
Even the final wave surged in like clockwork, driven by whatever coded aggression the dungeon had baked into them. Leo didn't move. He just waited.
The flames did the rest.
The smell was sharp. Sweet and acrid, like burnt sugar left too long on a pan. Somewhere behind him, Ai let out a small, approving hum.
The last slime collapsed into ash.
[System Notification] Slimes defeated: 1000/1000
[System Notification] Congratulations! You have leveled up to Level 11.
A slow, satisfied breath escaped Leo's lungs. His chest rose and fell, heartbeat still thumping from the rush. But already, his eyes were scanning the system menu.
"Next," he muttered.
Ai floated closer, arms folded behind her back. "Ready for the wolves?"
"More than ready."
The screen shimmered again.
The teleport effect hit harder this time, like falling sideways through liquid glass. The cavern vanished.
They landed in a rocky forest clearing. Jagged stones. Sparse trees. Cold wind.
The first growl came instantly.
Leo turned, weapon already up.
Wolves burst from the treeline. Sleek, grey shapes with glowing red eyes and teeth too big for their jaws. No time to count. No time to think.
He let them come.
"Whirlwind Strike!"
His blade blurred. The air howled with the sudden burst of momentum as the skill carved a perfect circle around him. Wolves yelped, bodies torn mid-lunge.
"Meteor Slash!"
The ground cracked open beneath him, flames bursting upward like geysers. Smoke swallowed the battlefield in seconds.
He moved between the wreckage. Strike, spin, recover, strike again. Whirlwind to thin the herd, Meteor to finish the clusters. Over and over.
Wolves fell like leaves in a storm.
Two minutes later, the ground was quiet.
Only the fire remained. Burning in circles, trailing the arcs of his sword. The air was sharp with smoke and iron.
[System Notification] Wolves defeated: 1000/1000
[System Notification] Congratulations! You have leveled up to Level 12.
Leo exhaled slowly, leaning against his blade. His arms trembled from the effort, but his footing stayed steady.
He didn't speak. He didn't need to.
The silence said enough.
He dropped to sit on a flat stone, letting his head tilt back for a moment. Cold stone against his spine. Cool air against his sweat.
The distant drip of water returned, echoing off the cave walls now that the fire was beginning to die.
His breathing slowed. The weight in his shoulders eased.
"Not bad for my first real dungeon," he murmured.
Ai nodded, arms crossed. "You've leveled up twice in under ten minutes."
He wiped a bead of sweat from his jaw and let the stillness linger.
For a few seconds, nothing moved.
Then—
[System Notification] 5... 4... 3...
The voice came from everywhere. Calm. Mechanical.
Leo's eyes snapped open.
He turned to Ai. She gave a single, subtle nod.
[System Notification] 2... 1...
A rune circle flared beneath them. Blue lines crawl outward like vines across the stone. Magic surged, soft and sudden, pulling light into itself.
Then—flash.
The dungeon vanished.
Colors twisted. Light bent.
And just like that, they were back.
The inn's ceiling greeted him first, warm firelight flickering in the hearth. Leo blinked the static from his eyes and stood.
No pain. Just that strange, floating buzz in his blood. The residue of teleportation.
He checked his quest log.
Two down.
Four to go.
"Let's head to the guild," he said, his voice still a little hoarse.
Ai didn't reply, but the shimmer in her eyes told him she agreed.
###
The carriage jolted violently as it barreled down a narrow, uneven path, the wooden wheels groaning with every turn. Inside, the air was thick, stifling with sweat, old leather, and the sharp tang of rusted metal. Afternoon light spilled through the cracks in the walls, glinting off drawn blades and shifting eyes.
Five men were crammed into the cramped space, each one armed and loud, their laughter curdled with cruelty.
"Can't believe we caught one," one of them sneered, nudging the hooded figure slumped between them. "An actual Arcanite. Thought those were just bedtime stories."
"They are," another spat, grinning. "Which makes her price even better. Nobles eat that 'living legend' crap up."
"Too bad she's a defective one," a third chimed in, voice low and oily. "No powers. No spark. Might as well be a painted doll."
The figure twitched slightly. Still gagged, still bound. Her breathing was shallow, but steady. Every bump in the road sent fresh pain through her ribs.
Her wrists burned from the ropes.
The hood blocked most of her vision, but she could still hear everything. Every lewd joke. Every plan they made was to sell her off. Or worse.
"All Arcanites are women, right?" one asked, his tone mock-curious.
"Yeah," the leader said, licking his cracked lips. "Something about divine balance or some myth like that."
The fourth bandit chuckled, leaning closer. His breath was sour, thick with rot and drink. "If she can't make more Arcanites, maybe we can put her to other uses."
The laughter that followed was cruel. Sharp. It rattled in the dark like broken glass.
Two of them moved to grab her hands rough, pulling at her arms. She flinched and struggled, her voice muffled by the gag.
"Easy now," one of them growled. "You'll only make it worse."
Her heart pounded like a drumbeat in her ears. Fear lanced through her chest, but beneath it, buried under the panic, something else stirred. Rage. Cold and quiet.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to burn them all down.
But right now, she couldn't even speak.
The leader crouched in front of her and yanked the hood off.
Her face caught the light. It didn't matter that her cheeks were bruised or that her lower lip was split; her presence still struck them silent.
Pale silver hair spilled over her shoulders, catching the light like falling starlight. Her skin glowed faintly, as if lit from within. And her eyes, clear, crystalline blue, stared back at them, wide with fury, not fear.
"Even like this, she doesn't look real," one of them whispered, swallowing his saliva. His gaze flicked down, shamefully, to the curve of her chest, prominent even beneath bruised coat and dirt. It wasn't helping him think straight.
"She isn't," the leader said. "But she's ours now."
He reached for her.
Then the forest screamed.
A roar, deep, croaky, impossibly loud, tore through the area. Birds exploded out of the treetops. The carriage reared up on one side, nearly tipping.
"What the hell was that?!"
The driver shouted something, but the words were lost in the second roar, closer now.
Too close.
Then something hit the carriage.
Not a rock.
Not a tree.
Something alive.
The entire structure shuddered. Wood snapped like twigs. One side of the carriage peeled open as claws raked down the flank, tearing it open like paper.
A massive shape slammed into the path. A creature wreathed in shadow, its fur dark and matted, its eyes glowing like coals. The beast was at least three times the size of a horse. Its mouth opened, revealing rows of jagged teeth slick with saliva.
The bandits screamed.
The Arcanite moved.
She threw herself toward the gap in the wreckage, barely avoiding the snapping jaws of the beast as it tore through one of the guards like wet cloth. Blood sprayed against the broken walls. Another bandit tried to run and was caught mid-step. His scream cut short as the creature crushed him beneath a claw.
She didn't look back.
Her bare feet hit the cold earth as she sprinted into the woods, arms still bound but legs pumping hard. Her lungs burned. Her side ached. She ran anyway.
Behind her: chaos.
More screams. Cracking wood. The sound of the beast gorging itself.
Then, footsteps. Thudding, uneven.
"Go after her!" someone roared.
Branches lashed against her skin. The forest blurred past, every tree a blur of motion and shadow. She heard them chasing. Cursing. Tripping. Recovering.
The blood in her veins felt like ice.
She spotted a path. Narrow, barely visible, but it curved sharply between two hills. Without thinking, she took it. Dirt kicked up around her ankles as she pushed forward.
Still bound. Still gagged.
But still alive.
The howls behind her grew closer. She didn't know if they were wolves, men, or the beast.
She just kept moving.
She hit the clearing hard, stumbled, fell to one knee, but kept going. Her breath came in rasps. Her chest heaved. But she didn't stop.
Then, too fast, voices behind her.
"There she is!"
They crashed through the brush.
She turned. Only to feel her ankle give out. She fell again, this time flat, cheek scraping dirt and stone.
Rough hands about to grab her by the arm.