Kaelen's breath caught for a moment. Even Malak gave them such high standing.
Kaelen frowned, lowering Voidblade slightly. "Then… if defeating him isn't possible," he said carefully, "is there another way? To save someone trapped there, without facing the master directly?"
Malak's expression shifted—something unreadable flickered in his eyes. "Save someone, hmm?" He looked toward the scorched ridges of the mountain. "Anyone who leaves that place is known to him. The Ghouls' Larder isn't just a dungeon—it's his domain. Unless the master is in closed-door seclusion, there is no way to slip by unnoticed."
"Closed-door seclusion…" Kaelen repeated, his mind racing.
If that was true, then there had to be a loophole. If the master was so powerful, why would the quest only be S difficulty? There had to be a way.
"Then I'll find it myself," Kaelen said under his breath, gripping Voidblade tighter.
Malak's lips curved faintly. "Good. The world doesn't reward those who wait for easy answers."
Kaelen decided to ask something else. "Then what can you tell me about this world? About what's happening here?"
For a moment, Malak was silent. His gaze drifted toward the horizon as if recalling something distant.
"This continent is called Aethelgard," he said finally. "Fifteen years ago, it was nearly destroyed by war. Light against Dark—the two great factions that ruled everything."
Kaelen listened in silence, Luna beside him, her sapphire eyes reflecting the glow of the barren wasteland.
"The war reached its end when the Demon God Hades descended," Malak continued. "Entire nations burned. Even the divine races were nearly wiped out. It took the sacrifice of countless powerhouses from the Light Faction to finally seal him away beneath the Ruined Abyss."
Kaelen's expression hardened. "Sealed, not destroyed."
"Exactly." Malak's eyes narrowed. "The seal weakens over time. The world may think it's safe, but it's not. Aethelgard is leaderless—its empires shattered, its balance broken. Guilds, sects, and self-proclaimed kings now claw for dominance. Chaos breeds ambition… and ambition breeds monsters."
The weight of his words lingered in the air.
Malak finally looked back at him, his tone softening. "If you plan to walk this path, Kaelen, remember this—strength alone won't save you. The higher you climb, the deeper the abyss beneath your feet."
Kaelen nodded. "I'll remember that."
Malak turned, his black coat stirring slightly in the dry wind. "Our paths may cross again. If fate allows."
And then he was gone—no footsteps, no sound, only the faint shimmer of heat rising from the cracked earth.
Kaelen stood there a while longer, Luna's wings rustling softly beside him.
"Fate, huh?" he murmured. "Guess we'll see."
He tightened his grip on Voidblade. "Come on, Luna. We've got work to do."
POV: Ronan Blackthorne
In the heart of New York City, the skyline shimmered beneath the evening glow. Inside a sleek, glass-walled skyscraper that overlooked the Hudson River, Ronan Blackthorne sat behind his desk, the faint blue light from his monitors casting sharp angles across his face.
"Level twenty-nine," he muttered, tapping the screen. "And the next highest is nineteen."
The ranking board glowed before him. The name Kaelen sat far above everyone else.
Two days since launch, and already a ten-level gap. The forums were chaos—thousands of players screaming "cheater," demanding bans, speculating hacks.
A man standing nearby spoke quietly. "We confirmed with the devs, boss. They say it's impossible to cheat. No exploits, no external systems. The game's code is completely isolated."
Ronan's expression sharpened. "So it's all real skill."
"Seems so. He's the first to leave the beginner village, first Silver-tier boss kill, and… rarely appears in towns. Only to sell gear, then disappears."
Ronan leaned back, his tone thoughtful. "Smart. Stays out of sight. No guild, no alliances. He's building something alone."
He drummed his fingers lightly against the armrest. "Keep looking. I want movement logs, auction records, anything tied to him. If he's this far ahead, he knows something the rest of us don't."
"Yes, sir. We'll find him."
When the aide left, Ronan stood and turned toward the window, the reflection of the city lights mirrored in his cold eyes.
"Kaelen," he said under his breath, almost smiling. "Let's see how long you can stay in the shadows."
POV: Kaelen
The wind carried the scent of ash and scorched stone as Kaelen resumed hunting. With Voidblade in hand, the world felt sharper, lighter. The weapon moved like an extension of his will—each swing a fluid arc of controlled destruction.
Luna flew above, her draconic aura shimmering faintly as she unleashed torrents of blue flame that reduced the Blazing Serpents and Ironfang Wolves to cinders.
Their rhythm was seamless. Kaelen no longer needed to call commands—they moved as one.
"Good work, Luna," he said as another pack of monsters fell. "You're really getting used to this."
The dragon let out a proud trill, her tail flicking through the air.
Hours passed like moments. The desolate plains echoed only with the crackle of fire and the faint hum of energy after each kill. Kaelen's focus sharpened with every encounter, his movements cleaner, his judgment quicker.
Malak's words lingered in his mind. Strength alone won't save you.
He wasn't sure if that was a warning or encouragement—but either way, he intended to prove both wrong.
As the last serpent fell, a soft chime echoed in his ears.
[Level Up: Level 30 Reached!]
Kaelen exhaled, lowering his blade. Luna landed beside him, her wings folding gracefully, eyes glowing faintly.
"Level thirty," Kaelen murmured, a quiet satisfaction spreading across his face. "Not bad, huh?"
Luna gave a soft rumble of agreement, leaning her head toward him.
He smiled faintly and patted her snout. "We're getting stronger. Step by step."
The horizon glowed orange as the sun dipped below the jagged peaks. Kaelen stared out toward the far edges of the Banepeak Mountain range, where the world seemed endless—and dangerous.
After a long breath, he opened his interface and selected Logout.
The familiar hum of reality returned. Kaelen blinked, eyes adjusting to the soft lights of his room. The walls, the faint sound of traffic outside, the warmth of real air—it was all grounding after the chaos of Aethelgard.
He stretched, his muscles tense but his mind oddly calm, then walked out to the living room.
His mother looked up from the kitchen table. "You're finally out of that room."
Kaelen smiled sheepishly. "Yeah. Sorry. Lost track of time again."
His father chuckled from the couch. "As long as you come out to eat, we won't complain."
Dinner was simple—rice, grilled fish, and the kind of warmth that didn't exist in a digital world. His parents talked about their day: work stress, neighborhood gossip, small, comforting things.
When Kaelen mentioned being able to exchange in-game earnings for real money, their reactions were stunned at first—then quietly proud.
His mother smiled softly. "You look… happy, Kaelen. Really happy."
He paused, the words catching him off guard. "Yeah," he said after a moment. "I think I am."
They ate together, laughter occasionally cutting through the soft sound of clinking dishes.
Later, Kaelen stood by his window, looking out at the city lights. The world beyond seemed peaceful, ordinary—so unlike the chaos of Aethelgard.
Still, that world called to him.
He clenched his fist lightly. I'll find a way to save her. No matter what it takes.
And for the first time in a long while, Kaelen felt a sense of balance between both worlds.
One, filled with danger and ambition.The other, with warmth and quiet understanding.
Both worth fighting for.