Zarek moved silently through the cavern, his footsteps careful and deliberate.
The oppressive quiet pressed down on him, broken only by the occasional drip of water echoing through the winding tunnels.
He resisted the urge to summon Misery immediately. Two sets of footsteps were louder than one, and in a place like this, noise meant death. The fewer eyes—and ears—he drew, the better.
As he advanced, Zarek sifted through the fragmented knowledge stored in his head, recalling everything he knew about dungeons from Beyond Good and Evil.
Although he hadn't inherited the memories of this body's previous owner, he didn't need them.
He had read this story obsessively, and the author's intricate world-building had left a lasting impression. Entire chapters had been dedicated to the mechanics of dungeons, their origins, and their rules.
Back then, Zarek had skimmed those lore-heavy chapters, eager to return to the action. Now, those very details were the key to his survival.
If his predecessor had been even slightly competent, this was most likely a regular sacrificial dungeon with ten floors.
Just like classes and skills, dungeons themselves were divided by sequence and grade.
A First Sequence Regular Grade dungeon contained ten floors.
Rare grade dungeons had twenty.
Epic grade dungeons had thirty… and so on, each grade adding another ten floors of hell.
The thought made Zarek's eyes narrow.
If he could reach the tenth floor and defeat the dungeon boss, he would be free to leave.
But there was no relief on his face, only grim determination.
Escape from the dungeon was only part one of his problem. Once outside, he would have to deal with whoever—or whatever—was waiting for him.
He clenched his fist tightly around his dagger.
These ten floors weren't just an obstacle. They were an opportunity. A crucible to grow stronger, to arm himself for the storm he knew was coming.
Meanwhile…
Elsewhere on the first floor, a pack of surviving goblins marched through the shadows.
Their squat, three-foot-tall forms moved with disturbing coordination, their guttural growls blending into a single, unsettling chorus.
Though small, the aura radiating from them was savage, primal. Bloodlust rolled off them in waves, sharp enough to make even hardened warriors flinch.
Suddenly, the lead goblin froze mid-step.
The entire group halted instantly, their crude weapons raised.
Then the leader let out a low, guttural snarl, saliva dripping from its jagged teeth. Its trembling limbs weren't from fear—they were from hunger.
The others followed suit, their eyes gleaming crimson as their frenzy built.
Zarek heard them before he saw them.
The rhythmic pounding of hurried footsteps echoed through the tunnel ahead, steadily growing louder.
His body went rigid, heart thundering in his chest.
A primal instinct—honed through thousands of years of human survival—kicked in, flooding his veins with icy adrenaline.
The hairs on the back of his neck rose. His breath caught.
There was no mistaking it.
"They're coming…"
He forced himself to inhale sharply, then exhaled, steadying his racing heart.
In a calm, measured voice, he gave the command in his mind:
"Come out, Misery."
The air just inches from him trembled.
A ripple of green light surged outward, and a small figure materialized before him—a goblin clad in crude, makeshift armor fashioned from animal hide.
The creature immediately dropped to one knee, bowing deeply in reverence.
Zarek ignored the display, his sharp eyes narrowing as he studied the armor.
The hide wasn't impressive, but it was functional—likely enough to deflect small arrows or glancing blows. Even a sliver of protection was better than nothing in this hellhole.
"Grrrraaa!" Misery growled, its guttural voice strange and harsh.
Zarek blinked. The sound wasn't intelligible, but it still startled him.
It can… vocalize?
Before he could dwell on it, a blue window appeared before his eyes.
First Summoning Successful!
Infinite Summon Link Established.
The moment his gaze touched the window, the subtle thread connecting him to Misery strengthened.
It was more than a bond—it was a shared consciousness.
Zarek instinctively knew he could view Misery's stats the same way he saw his own.
With a thought, he opened the goblin's panel.
[Summon: Misery]
[Grade: Regular]
[Infinite Origin: 0]
[Strength: 1.6] +
[Agility: 1.3] +
[Perception: 0.9] +
[Physique: 1.4] +
[Mana: 0.1] +
Skill: Prey Sense (Level 1)
The panel was simpler than his own, containing only a single skill.
Zarek wasn't surprised—Misery was a base-level summon.
But the plus signs beside each stat intrigued him.
When he mentally tapped one, another window appeared.
[Not enough Infinite Origin.]
Gather more Infinite Origin to increase stats.
Zarek's lips curled slightly in realization.
"So that's how you grow… by feeding on Infinite Origin."
He didn't have time to experiment further.
The pounding footsteps were almost on top of him now.
No more preparation. No more hesitation.
It was time to fight.
He fixed his gaze on Misery and gave a mental command:
"Get ready for battle."
The goblin's reaction was immediate. Misery thumped his fist against his chest, his crude armor rattling.
His posture was brimming with fearless confidence, as though promising Zarek that nothing would get past him.
Zarek gave a tight, humorless smile.
For someone barely stronger than an unarmed human, he's awfully bold.
By Zarek's understanding, an unawakened human's average stat was one point, and that only after intense training. Anything higher required awakening.
Misery's stats were above that baseline, making him dangerous to normal humans—but far from invincible.
Suddenly, four dark shapes burst into view ahead.
Four goblins, charging at full speed.
The moment they saw Zarek and Misery, their beady eyes flared like coals, glowing red with unbridled rage. Their pace quickened, claws scraping stone, guttural screams echoing through the tunnels.
Zarek didn't flinch. His breathing slowed.
"Go," he commanded coldly.
Misery responded with a deafening battle cry, rushing forward to meet the oncoming pack head-on.
For a split second, the charging goblins faltered.
Recognition flickered in their eyes—they saw one of their own leading the charge.
Then realization dawned. Misery's aura was different. Wrong.
Their hesitation turned to fury, their snarls growing more feral.
Zarek remained still, watching closely.
If this had been before, he would already be sprinting for his life, praying to stumble across a lone, isolated goblin to ambush.
But now… things were different.
His eyes narrowed, his focus sharpening to a razor's edge as his thoughts returned to the description of his second unique skill:
[Absolute Combat Mode – Unleashing the pinnacle of martial divinity, Absolute Combat Mode elevates the user into an unstoppable war god, amplifying strength, speed, instincts, and resilience until nothing remains but relentless victory.]
Zarek's pupils began to fade, turning milky white.
The world around him dissolved, colors draining away until only four crimson silhouettes remained—his enemies.
They weren't terrifying monsters anymore.
They were targets, obstacles standing between him and survival.
And he would tear them down.
Zarek took a slow, deliberate breath…
Then stepped forward, his dagger gleaming like a shard of moonlight.
The hunt had begun.