The deeper Silas moved into the dungeon, the heavier the air became.
The dense underbrush thinned into mossy plains broken by towering stone pillars and crooked roots.
Tall trees were spread across the whole ceiling of the dungeon like they were trying to make their own habitat.
The entire area felt too enclosed—like a massive dome no larger than five hundred meters wide.
Mist clung to the ground, swirling with every step, and the only light came from glowing mushrooms embedded in tree trunks.
A low growl rumbled from somewhere.
Silas didn't flinch. Another goblin charged at him from the undergrowth, screeching with a jagged dagger in its green hands.
Silas sidestepped a bit and buried his sword deep inside the heart of it. One swift kick sent the dying stupid thing tumbling into the bush.
He had grown used to them now—at least, the goblins. They came in droves. Weak, reckless, and stupid. But they gave him an absurd amount of experience.
"System," he muttered, while wiping down the blood from his cheek. "Show me my goddamn fucking stats. I want to know if I'm growing or not."
A soft sound echoed in his mind, then the interface came.
[Name: Silas Veil]
[Race: Human]
[Level: 5]
[Health: 100/100]
[Mana: 80/80]
[Strength: E]
[Agility: E]
[Endurance: E]
[Intellect: C-]
[Charisma: E]
[Luck: D-]
[Potential Rating: SSS]
He stared at it for a long second.
"...So I'm still garbage in stats, huh?" he muttered, voice low.
[System: Not quite, boss. Level 5 is a solid start. Plus, you're still alive.]
"Barely."
His arms ached, his legs felt like they were running on borrowed strength. Even the goblins being weak, the sheer number had worn on him. Still—he hadn't stopped.
Not even once. That had to mean something.
Then came the howls. Not high-pitched screeches like those of goblins.
These were way deeper, guttural, and coordinated.
Silas narrowed his eyes a bit and raised his sword high. The tall grass ahead rustled... and then five shapes burst through.
These were dire wolves. Thick dark fur, yellow glowing eyes. Snarling mouths with teeth long enough to punch through bone.
They were way larger than the normal wolves—nearly the size of a motorcycle, with clawed limbs and muscle-packed bodies.
One of them let out a short bark, enough to tremble the soul of a normal human.
The others then started circling around Silas, preparing to hunt him down.
"They're actually intelligent. These bitches know what they're doing," he murmured, backing up until his foot hit the edge of moss-covered stone.
[System: Dire wolves travel in packs and are aggressive mid-tier predators. Estimated threat level: C-. You're in trouble, boss.]
"No shit."
He didn't have a skill. No flash moves. No ranged attacks. Just a plain, chipped sword and a half-tired body.
But he grinned anyway.
"This is still better than dying alone in a bathtub."
The first wolf pounced.
Silas ducked low, rolled to the side, and sliced across its hind leg. It yelped in pain, but the second was already on him.
Its jaws snapped near his neck—he raised the sword just in time, bracing the flat of the blade with both hands. The impact nearly knocked the weapon from his grip.
Another wolf slammed into his back.
He crashed into a rock, vision flickering from the blow. Blood trickled down his scalp.
[System: Boss, fall back. You can't win in direct melee without skills.]
"Then buy me some damn time!"
He forced himself to his feet and slashed wildly—forcing the closest wolf to retreat with a growl.
Another dashed at his left flank. He feinted a retreat, then plunged the blade straight into its ribcage when it lunged.
It thrashed.
He held on.
Then twisted.
Blood exploded from its mouth as it collapsed.
"ONE!"
The others hesitated.
"Come on, mutts. You started this."
They rushed him.
He wasn't a master. He wasn't even average. But Silas Veil was desperate—and in some twisted way, more alive than he'd ever felt.
He ducked. He bled. He struck. He killed.
One by one, he brought the wolves down, his breath ragged and shirt drenched in crimson.
When the final beast collapsed—its throat half torn open from a lucky upswing—Silas fell to one knee, coughing up dirt and sweat.
[System: Congratulations, boss. You've reached Level 5.]
He blinked.
"Already?"
[System: And here's your reward—first skill book unlocked.]
A small tome materialized in front of him, hovering in a glimmer of pale blue light before gently landing at his feet.
Silas picked it up.
The cover was scratched leather. The title etched in faded silver.
[Piercing Thrust — E-Rank Skill Book]
A direct, fast stabbing motion with increased penetration. Increases damage and armor pierce against single targets. Low mana cost. Fast cooldown.
He smiled. Not a grin. Not a smirk. A real, satisfied smile.
"Thanks, system."
[System: No problem, boss. You earned it.]
He rolled his shoulder and wiped his sword on the grass.
"My first real skill…"
He turned toward the massive stone arch now visible beyond the trees.
Vines crawled up its frame. Moss dripped from its roof. It looked like an ancient temple gate, out of place in this half-forest dungeon.
[New Subquest: – Defeat Mini Boss.]
The door was slightly ajar. Something big waited beyond it.
Silas exhaled once. Then walked toward it.
When he pressed his hand to the cold stone and pushed the door open—darkness poured out like a living thing.