The cave did not end with light.
It ended with whispers.
Kyle stumbled forward, every step heavy with blood and exhaustion. His palm throbbed from clutching the traitor's blade, torn raw, crimson dripping down his wrist. His heartbeat pounded like war drums in his chest.
He wanted to collapse, but the System didn't allow weakness.
[Quest Completed: Survive First Encounter]
[Reward Distributed]
[New Quest Unlocked: Enter the Arena of Shadows]
Arena of Shadows?
Kyle narrowed his eyes. His vision flickered—new text spread across the translucent screen before him.
[Condition: Only those who survive betrayal may walk this path.]
[Warning: Death in the Arena is permanent.]
[Timer: 00:59:59]
An hour. He had one hour before… something.
He clenched his fist. "Damn it… This is no accident. It's all designed."
The memory of his brother's twisted grin haunted him. He hadn't killed him. Not yet. The traitor had disappeared into the shadows of the collapsing cavern, leaving only promises of pursuit.
But Kyle could still feel it—their bond, shattered, bleeding into rage. The betrayal wasn't just physical. It was spiritual. Something deeper tied them together, and the System knew it. It was playing with him, pushing him.
The tunnel opened.
Cold air rushed in, carrying the metallic tang of blood and the hiss of something alive. The walls widened, revealing a massive underground hall, lit by eerie blue fire torches embedded into obsidian pillars.
Kyle froze.
Hundreds of stone seats rose around him, circling the center pit. It was an arena—and every seat was filled.
Shadows.
Figures cloaked in darkness, faces hidden, eyes glowing like molten embers. They leaned forward, whispering in unison, a chorus of hunger. Their voices weren't words—they were the hiss of predators before a feast.
Kyle's skin crawled.
The System chimed.
[Welcome, Player.]
[You have entered the Arena of Shadows.]
[Rule: Fight, Bleed, Survive.]
[Opponents Assigned: Wave One Initiating.]
A gate creaked open across the pit.
The stench hit him first—rot, flesh, sulfur. Then came the sound: claws scraping stone, guttural growls vibrating in his bones.
From the gate, a creature crawled.
Twisted muscle and bone, half-man, half-beast, its jaw split too wide with jagged teeth dripping black saliva. Its eyes burned red, fixated only on him.
Kyle staggered back.
[Monster Identified: Gorehound – Level 3]
[Threat Level: Moderate-High]
"Moderate my ass," he spat, raising his trembling fists. He had no weapon, no armor. Just bloodied hands and the faint glow of the System's gifts.
The Gorehound lunged.
Time slowed. Instinct screamed. His body, still trembling from exhaustion, moved anyway. He rolled aside, the beast's claws slicing sparks against the obsidian floor.
[Skill Activated: Evasion Lv.2]
Kyle's breath caught. For a split second, his fear turned into focus.
The Gorehound snapped back around, jaws gaping wide. Kyle kicked at its face, but the impact was like striking stone. Pain shot up his leg. The monster barely flinched.
[HP: 39/100]
"Shit—!"
It swiped again. Kyle ducked, grabbed a shard of rock from the floor, and stabbed upward. The jagged stone pierced the beast's jaw. Black ichor sprayed. The monster howled, shaking violently, but Kyle clung to it, driving the shard deeper.
[Critical Hit!]
[Strength +1]
The crowd of shadows hissed louder, some cheering, others snarling, as if feeding on his struggle.
The Gorehound thrashed, slamming him against the wall. His ribs screamed.
[HP: 25/100]
Kyle's vision blurred. His arms trembled. His body screamed to give up—
—but his soul refused.
Rage burned hotter than pain. He saw the traitor's face. That cruel smirk. That betrayal.
"NO—!"
With a roar, he twisted the shard, then ripped it sideways. The Gorehound's jaw split, its howl cut short as black blood gushed like a fountain. The beast collapsed, twitching, before falling still.
The shadows erupted. Whispers became a storm. Some cheered. Others booed.
Kyle fell to one knee, panting, covered in gore.
[Wave One Complete.]
[Reward: Weapon Acquired.]
A shimmer of light dropped before him. A blade materialized—short, single-edged, glowing faintly with blue runes.
Kyle's trembling hand reached for it. When his fingers touched the hilt, a surge of energy coursed through him.
[Weapon Obtained: Shadowfang Dagger]
[Effect: +3 Strength, +5 Agility. Special – Absorbs 5% of enemy life on kill.]
His breath hitched. Finally—something.
He stood, gripping the blade tight. His reflection gleamed in its steel. His eyes weren't the same anymore.
He wasn't the weak brother. He wasn't prey.
Another gate creaked.
The whispers swelled again.
[Wave Two Approaching.]
Kyle squared his stance. His ribs ached, his blood ran, but his eyes burned with a new fire.
"Come then," he growled. "If this is your game… I'll play. And I'll break every damn rule."
The gate burst open—
—and three Gorehounds stepped into the arena.
The crowd screamed. The whispers became roars.
Kyle's grip tightened on the Shadowfang. His heart thundered.
He wasn't ready. But he had no choice.
The game was just beginning.
---