Gen words had barely ended when they rang out like a death knell echoing through the gloomy dungeon. The already cold space suddenly became oppressively heavy, almost suffocating. The torches scattered along the walls flickered, their pale flames trembling as if shivering in fear from the murderous intent that had just been stirred.
Rows of prison cells were engulfed in silence. Only the sound of fine stone dust falling from the ceiling remained, like the ticking sand in an hourglass of death. Inside the cells, they raised their heads, dazed eyes fixed on the shadow gradually appearing through the iron bars—a figure clad in black armor, a giant warhammer slung across his shoulder like a symbol of judgment.
No words, no warnings.
Then like thunder striking, Gen moved.
BOOM!!!
A single strike, heavy as fate itself. The ground shook violently as if the very bones of the dungeon were being shattered. The nearest Stone Man didn't even have time to move before it exploded, its body cracking like glass struck by a steel hammer. Stone shards flew in every direction, some even shooting through the iron bars like cannon fire, causing clattering sounds across the walls and floor.
Mo Gang, witnessing the scene, took a deep breath. He had once prided himself on his survival skills, but in the face of this scene, he was nothing more than a mouse standing before a crusher.
Amar, in the adjacent cell, nearly fell backward. Cold sweat trickled down his spine, his eyes dull as if he were staring at his own death.
But Gen didn't stop.
He turned. The warhammer in his hand seemed to come alive, tracing a dark arc before smashing straight into the group of Stone Men forming a defensive line.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Each strike was a death sentence. The limbs of the towering Stone Men flew apart.
Screech—
The sound of iron boots scraping against the stone floor stretched out like the sound of a blade dragging across a whetstone. Gen stopped walking, his shoulder shifted, and then he suddenly spun and hurled the hammer.
The black hammer whistled through the air, spinning like a dark moon soaring through the night. Every Stone Man in its path was blown apart like sand statues before a storm.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The explosions roared up to the ceiling, rumbling like thunder. Finally, the hammer embedded itself deep into the black stone wall at the end of the dungeon corridor, leaving only the handle trembling slightly from the aftershock.
Then… silence.
The entire dungeon was now filled only with the sound of stone dust falling like rain onto a coffin lid.
Princess Charlottle trembled, her hand covering her mouth, eyes wide and unblinking. In the depths of her eyes was fear, and something else—hope... or terror?
Fay took a step back. Even as a veteran knight, he could not hide his shock.
"The Stone Men... were erased so easily..."
Another young knight swallowed hard. He didn't even understand whether what had just swept through the dungeon guards was a man... or a demon cloaked in human armor.
Gen said nothing. He pulled the hammer from the wall, slinging it back over his shoulder. The torchlight reflected off the black armor, making him resemble a hellish knight stepping out from the pages of an apocalyptic hymn.
"Dolly, item."
His voice was ice-cold. From the opposite direction, Dolly silently stepped into the center, her lifeless gait beginning to collect each item that had dropped from the shattered ruins.
Inside the prison cells, no one dared breathe heavily. They could only watch the one who had just walked through the battlefield, as if witnessing a destiny about to determine their fates.
Some silently prayed.
Some looked at Gen as a god.
Others... saw him as the greatest monster in this Dungeon.
Mo Gang now dared to show his face. His voice echoed dryly, trying to squeeze out a shred of arrogance to regain some sense of control in the suffocating air heavy with stone dust.
"Who... who the hell are you people?"
From inside the iron bars, he saw a wiry frame, a pair of sharp eyes that had never seemed afraid of anything, replying in a calm and steady voice:
"Amar. Imperial Capital."
Just two words, yet enough to make Mo Gang's face change color.
He stepped back, sweat beading on his forehead, eyes twitching.
"Amar...? Wait... that name... I've heard that before—!"
His memory suddenly connected, recalling a precious sword he had once stolen and hastily sold to black market dealers on a hazy moonlit night... and its owner... was the man before him.
"A-Amar? The genius swordsman Amar?"
Mo Gang trembled slightly. In his mind echoed rumors—one of the royal family's youthful prides, a fearless combat genius. He swallowed hard, his face turning pale.
This situation made him extremely uneasy. Fortunately, Amar remained calm, thinking the man was simply shocked by his reputation.
Mo Gang ran to the next cell, glanced around, and then froze in breathless astonishment.
"W-What... Princess? Is... is it really her!?"
The golden light from the torch still smoldering in the hallway streamed through the bars, illuminating the pale, weary face of the blonde girl sitting slumped.
Charlottle looked up. Though exhausted, her gaze still held something very distinct—a proud glow that could not be extinguished.
Mo Gang nearly went mad with excitement.
"Boss! Boss! We... we found the princess!!!"
At that moment, Gen had reached the threshold of the hallway. He didn't bother to turn back, merely responded indifferently:
"Is that so? She's yours."
A response that left Mo Gang dumbfounded. Yours? Like he was giving away a toy?
He hesitated, then suddenly snapped out of it as if afraid Gen would change his mind, and immediately rushed to unlock each prison cell, shouting loudly as he did.
"If you want to live, then follow my boss!"
The iron door clanged loudly, as if awakening the people who had not seen sunlight in a long time.
Princess Charlottle's group stepped out one by one, their bodies thin and weak, their eyes still lingering with the aftershocks of a nightmare yet to pass.
They looked toward the man clad in full black armor, walking silently like a cold wind.
Their eyes never left Gen, as if witnessing a being that transcended all logic.
Fay slowly stepped beside the princess, his sharp eyes inspecting every wound.
"Princess?"
Charlottle nodded.
Her golden hair shimmered in the firelight. The ceremonial silver armor she wore was scratched and battered, but she stood firm like a commander just waking from a dream.
"Good. Let's go."
Amar turned to the remaining knights: "Stand up. Stay close. Don't let anyone fall behind."
They nodded instinctively, no longer questioning anything. None of them felt like they were still fulfilling their role as royal guards. They were simply following... something far greater.
Mo Gang looked back and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Princess Charlottle's group had caught up. The cold sweat soaking his back wasn't just from what he had witnessed—it was from fear. Fear that Gen would leave, fear that those people wouldn't follow. If that happened, how could he claim the hefty reward for finding the princess?
The stone hallway ahead opened into a space heavy and eerie. Then... Gen stopped before an ancient wooden door lying silently at the end of the path.
This door was completely different. It wasn't like any of the cold metal gates before—it was a massive wooden door, over three meters tall, heavy and covered in the dust of time. Carved across its surface were intricate patterns, distorted faces grimacing in silence, mouths open as if screaming something from thousands of years ago. Surrounding them were ancient symbols, glowing faint green as if breathing along with the wall.
An ancient, stifling, and bizarre aura spread out, making everyone swallow instinctively.
Mo Gang, on the other hand, was full of anticipation. This had to be the treasure room he had guessed. At the same time, a strong curiosity surged in his heart. What lay behind it? Why did a place like this have something that looked like a door to another world?
This was also the question that many in Charlottle's group were pondering.
"Could it be... the way out?" a knight muttered, eyes fixed on the glowing symbols.
"Maybe." Amar stood in front of the group, squinting at the door, his voice lowering as if questioning himself.
Fay remained silent. But his eyes never left Gen. Every action, every movement, even the way Gen placed his hand on the hammer's grip made him silently speculate.
Who exactly is this man…? How old is he? Human or monster?
Princess Charlottle felt the same. Her sapphire eyes stared at the cloaked back. She felt something caught in her throat—perhaps a feeling she had never experienced before: fear, admiration, and... an inexplicable attraction.
Suddenly, Gen turned halfway—not to look at anyone, but merely to glance over his shoulder.
"Wait here."
His voice echoed through the stone corridor like an irrefutable command.
No shouting, no anger.
Just one soft sentence was enough to silence everyone as if a light had gone out. Even their breathing quieted, leaving only the sound of hearts pounding in the chests of those just rescued.
Gen placed his massive hammer on the stone floor, the sound echoing deeply like the conclusion of a silent ritual. Then he walked toward the door.
As his fingertip touched the skull-shaped handle, a wave of energy rippled across the wooden surface. The door groaned like a voice from the depths of the earth, then slowly creaked open.
No one saw what lay inside.
Gen stepped through without a word, and the door immediately slammed shut behind him.
BOOM!
Everyone flinched.
Mo Gang jolted slightly, then smirked when he realized... Dolly was still standing there.
"It's fine. The boss will come back..." he muttered, trying to reassure himself, eyes flicking toward Dolly.
"If he was going to leave, he wouldn't have left this girl behind."
So he felt at ease.
But contrary to that, Charlottle's group looked at Mo Gang and... completely misunderstood.
"He's still here... does that mean he's important to that mysterious man?"
"Maybe a trusted subordinate."
"Then that person will definitely return..."
No one said anything aloud, but their eyes met as if seeking reassurance from Mo Gang's presence. They didn't understand the relationship between him and Gen. And so... silence fell once again, as they gazed at the ancient wooden door, waiting.
Waiting for something no one could be sure of.
Behind the Door.
A vast room gradually unfolded before his eyes.
A soft glow emanated from the magical stones embedded in the ceiling, casting an otherworldly blue hue over everything—cool, translucent, and clearly not of this world. Every architectural line appeared carved from light, gleaming with a purity that defied reason.
Completely separated from the moldy decay outside, this place was absurdly pristine—no dust, no footprints, no scratches. As if no living being had ever set foot inside. As if time itself had stopped long ago just to preserve this silence.
At the far end of the room, atop a high stone dais, stood a black stone throne. Sitting upon it was a stone figure in the shape of a grown man, resting his chin on one hand.
His eyes were closed, his body unmoving—eternal, like the stone he was carved from.
As if he had been asleep for a thousand years.
"Are you still alive?" Gen's voice echoed, calm, without the slightest trace of caution.
A few seconds later...
"Amusing."
The sound grated through the air like grinding stones, low and bone-chilling.
The stone man opened his eyes. Two amber pupils glowed dimly within the cold rock sockets.
"And you are?"
"...Just a passerby."
Gen shrugged with a faint smile. His eyes glanced beyond the throne, where a large black stone stood—identical to the "gate" that had transported him here.
"You may go back to sleep. I just need to pass through."
"Hahaha... You should know, that's not going to happen..."
"...It's been a long time since someone made it here. Do you think I'll just let you walk away?"
"You'll die."
"Oh?"
"So confident? Even if you're stronger than me, so what? In this room, I am immortal. I can resurrect endlessly."
"I don't believe you," Gen replied coldly—and whispered, "[Light Flash]."
In a flash, Gen dashed forward like a bolt of black lightning clad in full armor, carrying with him a force that could crush heaven and earth. He launched a kick straight at the stone man and his imposing black throne. In an instant, both the opponent and the throne were shattered to dust. Stone fragments flew across the room like a storm of debris. The air howled in the aftermath of the impact, as if the room itself screamed from the sudden fury.
But just seconds later…
Click. Click...
The broken chunks of stone began to tremble, levitating in the air before reassembling piece by piece. The stone man's body reformed perfectly—as if it had never been destroyed.
"Well? Do you believe me now?" he grinned smugly. "No matter how strong you are, it's pointless inside this matrix. If I wished, I could even strip you of the ability to cast magic."
Just as the stone man finished speaking—
BOOM!
A massive stone pillar erupted from the floor beneath Gen, aiming to crush him. He dodged with a swift leap toward the wall—but instantly—
SWISH!!
A stone blade emerged from the very wall beside him, slicing toward his neck.
"This is my domain..."
"Every move you make was already foreseen."
The stone man's voice echoed, blending with the grating sounds of stone grinding from every corner. The entire room seemed to awaken.
BOOM! BOOM!! BOOM!!!
Twelve gigantic stone arms descended from the ceiling like the hammers of Thunder Gods, each blow capable of obliterating a unit of heavy cavalry. Gen was forced to retreat continuously.
Suddenly, sharp spikes shot up from the floor, piercing through his armor like air. One stabbed through his thigh.
Blood splattered, and Gen dropped to one knee inside his own armor.
"You may be faster than me, but here—I am the law," the stone man declared with icy finality.
Gen braced himself against the ground, his presence unshaken.
"So… this is your 'law'?"
He let out a mocking breath of laughter, then sprang up like a coiled spring and lunged, driving a fist straight into the enemy's chest. No skill, no buffs—just raw, brute strength.
BOOM!!
His punch shattered a large chunk of the stone man's chest. Yet… as the dust crumbled away, the damaged area instantly regenerated, as if it had never been broken.
Seeing this, the stone man did not hesitate.
BAM!
A retaliatory punch struck Gen in the chest, sending him flying into the wall from earlier. The stone cracked behind him. He fell to the ground, coughing blood inside his iron helmet.
Gen staggered to his feet, suddenly slashing his arm toward the enemy—
"[Wind Sword]!"
No blade was needed—his arm alone cleaved out a blade of wind.
"Not bad. But…"
A brief pause.
CRACK!!
The spell shattered like thread.
The wind blade dissolved, vanishing into the cold aura radiating from the room's magical matrix.
"Your magic here is weaker than a child's."
Without warning, the stone man was behind Gen.
Gen turned—too slow.
SMASH!!
An upward hook from behind slammed into his back like the weight of a mountain.
CRACK!
The sound of breaking spine echoed clearly.
Gen was lifted off the ground and crashed down again. His body spasmed, the lower half now numb. From his mouth, a thick stream of black blood oozed.
"…Can't… move…"
He thought silently, eyes still open, but his body had betrayed his will.
The stone man calmly stepped forward, amber eyes smoldering as he looked down.
"Who do you think you are?"
"In here, I am God."
"And a God… does not need to kill. Merely ensure the enemy never stands again."
The stone man turned back toward his throne, a proud smirk on his lips.
He began reconstructing the seat, then sat down—like a god claiming full dominion over this realm.
Because this room was a colossal ancient magical matrix.
Here, all the intruder's stats were nullified, while his own could be amplified infinitely—at will.
A realm where all rules bent in his favor. Here, he was invincible.
But…
As he looked again, ready to taunt—
He fell silent.
The fallen figure was no longer there.
Instead, a strange young man stood with arms crossed, gazing coldly down at the throne.
His figure was tall, divine, exuding an overwhelming majesty. He wore no armor, no clothes—only a faint veil of silvery mist around his waist, as if no garment in the world was worthy of touching his form.
His hair shone white like moonlight, softly radiant.
His face was expressionless, yet flawless beyond imagination.
It was not the beauty of a man, but the presence of a god.
That being… was Gen second form, beyond the Undead.