"32… 31… 30…"
The echo of the countdown reverberated through the massive, empty arena. Lucas stood in the center, gripping his weapon tightly. His heart pounded, but before he could steady his nerves, a cold, mechanical voice rang in his mind.
"Ding! Host has initiated the second-tier challenge. Strength detected at a higher level. Main mission triggered."
Lucas froze. Then his lips curled into a grin. System, you finally decided to show up?
"Main mission: Destroy all enemies in the single-player job transfer dungeon to obtain mysterious rewards."
The voice fell silent again.
"Uh… eliminate?" Lucas repeated, his eyes narrowing.
That single word sparked hope. Eliminate… that means the monsters here aren't invincible after all. They can actually be killed by a job changer. He almost laughed. If they were untouchable, why would the system bother giving me such a mission?
Otherwise, he would've been forced to rely solely on the Pale Blade's Soul-Breaking skill to destroy them, a method that wasn't sustainable. That wasn't the system's way.
For once, things looked promising.
Still, the mission said "all enemies." That meant there would be more than one monster. So this arena isn't about duels… it's a siege battle?
He quickly shook his head. "Not exactly something to celebrate."
The mysterious reward remained vague, offering no clue about its value. But Lucas wasn't worried—everything produced by the system was guaranteed to be first-class. That alone was enough to make him clench his fists in anticipation.
This could change everything.
While his mind raced, Lucas inspected the arena carefully. It was massive, circular, and bare—no traps, no hidden compartments, no places to hide. Just a stone battlefield.
Good. He wouldn't risk stumbling into some unknown mechanism while dodging monsters.
The countdown neared its end.
"3… 2… 1!"
The final digit rang like thunder. Lucas inhaled sharply, planting his feet firmly in the center of the arena.
"The challenge begins. Survive for ten minutes. Countdown… 9:59… 9:58…"
The stone floor trembled. One after another, glowing portals ripped open across the arena. Ten in total, scattered randomly.
Lucas tilted his head. "Only ten? That's it?"
His question was swiftly answered as monstrous figures clawed their way out of the portals, howling to the heavens. Their blood-red eyes fixed on him instantly.
There were indeed ten of them, just as he counted. But they weren't all the same. Some were heavily armored, others wiry and quick. Some carried weapons, others wielded staffs dripping with magical energy. A balanced mix of melee, ranged, physical, and magical threats.
"Lovely," Lucas muttered.
He hurled a detection scroll into the fray. The parchment burned into light, scanning the beasts. The results flashed in his vision:
Name: Wraith Knight
Level: 40
Life: 27,512
Attack Power: 2,316
Physical Defense: 1,620
Magic Defense: 1,415
Name: Orc Warrior
Level: 40
Life: 24,184
Attack Power: 2,674
Physical Defense: 1,434
Magic Defense: 1,278
Name: Murloc Shaman
Level: 40
Life: 20,981
Attack Power: 2,978
Physical Defense: 1,287
Magic Defense: 1,124
Lucas blinked. "That's it?"
Their stats were strong, but not overwhelming. Barely tougher than the average wild monsters outside. He had braced for abominations that defied reason—but these? These were manageable.
For a normal job-changer, facing ten level-40 monsters at once would indeed be terrifying. But for him? With speed, precision, and the right strategy, this was doable.
"Alright then," Lucas smirked, twirling his blade. "Time for a warm-up."
The first monster lunged, a hulking Orc Warrior swinging its axe. Lucas vanished in a blur, reappearing behind it. His dagger slashed through its neck, blood spraying as the beast collapsed instantly.
One down.
The Wraith Knight charged, spectral sword raised. Lucas sidestepped, spun, and drove his blade into its chest. The ghostly figure shrieked before dissolving into ash.
Two down.
The Murloc Shaman tried to cast a spell, but Lucas hurled a throwing knife, piercing its throat mid-chant. Its magic fizzled out, and it fell twitching.
Three down.
One by one, Lucas cut them down. Swift, precise, efficient. His assassin's explosive power shone brilliantly. Within moments, the arena floor was littered with corpses.
Breathing steadily, he wiped his blade clean.
"That's it? Really? I thought this would be harder."
But as he straightened, his eyes widened. The countdown still ticked.
8:59… 8:58…
"What…?" Lucas muttered. The fight's not over?
A cold realization struck him. Wait. Don't tell me…
Right on cue, ten more portals flared open around the arena. Another wave of monsters poured out, snarling and charging.
Lucas clenched his jaw. "Oh, so that's how it is."
He tossed another detection scroll. The stats matched the previous wave, though the monster types were different—gnolls, ogres, corrupted beasts.
"I get it now." Lucas exhaled sharply. "This is the true mechanism of the Death Arena."
Every minute, ten new monsters spawn. Nonstop. Wave after wave.
For most challengers, this was a nightmare. It wasn't about killing one set of monsters—it was about endurance. If you failed to clear them quickly, the arena would fill with enemies until survival became impossible.
By the tenth wave, a challenger could face nearly a hundred monsters at once. Trapped, suffocated, crushed.
The thought made Lucas chuckle darkly. For anyone else, this would be hell. For me? It's a chance to sharpen my blade.
Still, he wasn't reckless. This challenge wasn't about blind slaughter—it demanded strategy.
The real danger lay not in brute force, but in control-type monsters. Shamans who could paralyze, tree spirits who imprisoned, frost creatures that slowed movement. If even one of those landed a disabling spell, the swarm would overwhelm instantly.
He had to be smart—prioritize the most threatening enemies in every wave. Eliminate them fast. Then clean up the rest.
That was the only path to victory.
Lucas grinned as the second wave charged him. "Alright, let's dance."
He darted into the horde, blade flashing like lightning. His movements were precise—every strike targeted a critical weak point. Shamans died before finishing their chants, frost monsters crumbled before unleashing their slowing auras.
The arena became a blur of motion, steel, and screams. Corpses piled higher, blood staining the stone floor crimson.
"Two waves down." Lucas flicked his blade, smirking as the countdown kept ticking. "Eight more to go."
His body thrummed with adrenaline, but he knew the true challenge hadn't even begun.
Because this wasn't just a fight.
This was survival.
This was the Death Arena.
..-------------------
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