A cascade of glowing panels unfolded before Tony's eyes, displaying a selection of dungeons shimmering like ghostly portals suspended in midair. Among them, one stood out—a grim, blood-red image labeled Blood Battle at the Lin Fortress.
There was only one advancement dungeon available, locked in gray and impossible to select. But the trial dungeons for Rank Zero players numbered ten in total, each with different settings and unknown dangers. After a few moments of weighing his options, Tony chose the one that felt least unpredictable.
A crisp prompt rang out in his ears.
[You have selected the trial dungeon: Blood Battle at the Lin Fortress.]
[Required number of participants: 5]
[Proceed to matchmaking?]
"Match," Tony muttered under his breath.
[Matching in progress… Match successful. Preparing to enter the dungeon. 10… 9…]
It barely took a minute before the system found a party for him, which was no surprise. With the entire world freshly awakened, countless players were rushing into their first dungeons to test their new powers.
The countdown hit zero, and a blinding light enveloped Tony. The hospital room around him dissolved like smoke, replaced by a chilling stillness.
[Trial Dungeon: Blood Battle at the Lin Fortress]
[Rank: Zero]
[Difficulty: Normal]
[Objective: Survive until dawn.]
[Scenario: The Lin family once stood as a mighty force in the southern martial world, led by Lin Tiannan—a man known for his unwavering righteousness and blade of justice. Countless ruthless killers and criminals fell beneath his sword. But the world has changed. Evil festers while honor fades. A villain Lin once failed to kill decades ago has now mastered a demonic art and returned for vengeance, intent on slaughtering every last soul within the fortress.]
The briefing slammed into Tony's mind like a wave of icy water. He blinked, taking in his surroundings. He wasn't alone—four other figures materialized in the dimly lit living hall. A shimmering barrier encased them, freezing the world outside like a paused movie.
On the translucent barrier, a huge red timer ticked down: 59… 58… 57….
They had one minute to prepare.
But Tony's gaze fell elsewhere. Just five meters away lay a body sprawled on the wooden floor, a pool of blood still spreading beneath his chest. The coppery smell of death hung thick in the air.
This isn't just a game. Danger radiated from every shadow, every bloodstain. From the scenario, Tony immediately understood: the demonic killer had already begun his massacre. The dungeon wouldn't be about fighting off small mobs—it was about avoiding being hunted down by a walking calamity. Surviving until dawn felt like wishful thinking.
"Whoa…" A high-pitched, shaky laugh broke the tense silence. "This feels… way too real. Did we just get dragged here with our actual bodies?"
Another boy snorted. "No shit, genius. Of course, we're here."
Tony turned toward his teammates. Three men, one woman, all young. Instead of wariness or fear, most of them had curiosity in their eyes, gawking at the surroundings as though they'd just stepped into a theme park haunted house.
Tony understood why. People had learned that dying in these trial dungeons didn't mean true death—not the first time, at least. Players had ten free "revives" across all trials. Fail here, and you just get booted out minus one life. That's why random matchmaking filled so fast: half the world treated dungeons like sightseeing tours.
A bespectacled man in his twenties, looking like a no-nonsense office worker, adjusted his glasses and broke the awkwardness. "Okay, let's focus. There's no guide for this dungeon, so we can't afford to mess around. We need a strategy."
"Strategy?" A blond, scruffy teenager with a rebellious smirk shoved his hands in his pockets. "Who died and made you captain?"
"I said strategy, not orders," Glasses replied evenly, voice calm but firm. "Listen, the task says survive until dawn. That screams one thing: the killer is way out of our league. We can't fight him head-on… or so it wants us to think. But splitting up and hiding? That's suicide. If he finds you alone, you're done."
He paused, letting that sink in before continuing. "Look at this place. The killer's already fought his way through. Lin Tiannan wasn't weak. That villain should've burned a lot of energy cutting through this fortress. If we hunt him now, while he's worn down, we might stand a chance. Miss it, and we'll be sitting ducks until dawn."
The college-aged couple in the group exchanged glances, the guy nodding quickly. "Makes sense. This dungeon's name isn't Blood Battle for nothing. It's telling us to fight, not cower."
Glasses shifted his gaze to Tony and the teenager, silently asking for agreement.
Tony nodded once. The man's reasoning lined up perfectly. The teen scoffed but didn't walk away.
"Good," Glasses said. "Stick close. If we find any Lin survivors, team up—they're our only allies. I'm B-rank, defensive type. I'll draw his attacks. The rest of you? Hit him hard and fast. If anyone else can tank, step up."
No one volunteered. Random queues were a gamble, and today, luck wasn't on their side. Glasses sighed, shoulders tense but resigned.
The timer hit zero.
The barrier dissolved, unleashing a wave of heavy, suffocating air thick with smoke and blood. The once-grand Lin Fortress now reeked of fire and death. The group hesitated, instincts screaming to run.
"Let's move," Glasses said, pushing forward.
The team lurched into motion, but the cracks in their formation showed immediately. Glasses led, Tony shadowed close, alert, and scanning every dark corner. The teen dragged his feet in the middle, whistling under his breath. Behind them, the girl clung to her boyfriend, trembling, slowing them all down.
They had barely taken a dozen steps when a grating voice sliced through the air. "Oh? More survivors?"
From the entrance stepped a man drenched in blood, his face bisected by a grotesque scar that twisted his expression into a permanent snarl. A long sword slick with gore hung loosely in his hand, but the raw killing intent rolling off him made the air freeze.
"Who the hell are you, old man?" the teen sneered.
Tony's stomach dropped. This was no survivor. Every drop of blood on that sword screamed boss fight.
"Now!" Glasses barked, voice sharp. "Everyone charges—"
The scarred man's lips peeled back into a wolfish grin. He hadn't understood the insult, but murder needed no translation. He moved.
The world blurred. A red flash cut the air. Glasses never finished his sentence—his head separated from his shoulders, his supposed B-rank defense meaning nothing.
Tony barely registered it before blinding pain exploded in his chest, like being ripped apart from the inside. He screamed, clutching his ribs, but the image of the blood-soaked demon didn't even slow.
[You have died.]
[Your talent Innate Divinity has triggered: Choose Respawn Location – On Site / Safe Zone. Countdown: 10… 9…]
Through the dark haze of death, Tony saw the rest of his team die in seconds. The couple went down without a fight, the scarred man carving them apart like paper dolls. The teen suffered the worst—first, his limbs were hacked off, then his head rolled across the floor.
From the moment they entered the dungeon to total annihilation… less than ten seconds had passed.