The deeper Kael pushed into the Cerberic den, the less it felt like a game.
The air turned sour, thick with moisture. Every step squelched on the cave floor. The walls pressed in, stealing light. His torch barely lit more than a few meters.
But his sword arm didn't waver.
[Enemy defeated: Cerberic Knight – Lv. 17]
[EXP gained: +712]
[Enemy defeated: Cerberic Knight – Lv. 16]
[EXP gained: +498]
He'd lost count after the twentieth.
The beasts had come in waves. None had been smart. All had died the same.
And yet, he felt no thrill. No rush. No joy of progression.
Only focus.
Only fire.
His XP bar ticked toward a new threshold—nearly twenty thousand. But Kael didn't stop.
Because he could feel something worse waiting ahead.
The tunnel widened suddenly.
A stench rolled over him. Blood. Iron. Wet fur. Worse.
Kael squinted into the darkness—then saw it.
A hulking form, hunched beneath the cavern ceiling. Its three heads scraped the stone. Each arm as thick as his torso.
A Cerberic Knight—but larger. Heavier. And far, far stronger.
[Target Identified: Cerberic Knight – Variant Alpha]
[Level: 21]
[HP: 3,519 / 3,556]
[Attributes: STR 19 | VIT ??? | INT 6 | AGI 11]
[Skill Detected: Charge – Rank D – LV ???]
[Comprehensive Threat Rating: E – Elite-Class Adversary]
[System Note: Target's combat capability exceeds yours. Evasion is recommended.]
The moment Kael saw it, it moved.
No warning. No roar. Just a blur of speed—too fast for its size.
Kael reacted on instinct, raising his blade, knees bent. He couldn't dodge. Not this one.
The blow landed like a warhammer.
[Critical Impact Received]
[HP: 762 → 417]
[Status: Bleeding – HP -3/sec]
[Status: Crippled – Movement Speed -15%]
His body flew backward, slamming into the cave wall with bone-rattling force.
The system screamed in red text. His ribs burned. His head rang.
But he was alive.
Barely.
The knight didn't stop.
It charged again, kicking up stone, three heads snarling.
But Kael was ready.
He threw himself sideways, using the curve of the cave wall to spring upward. He timed it perfectly—just as the creature passed beneath him.
One strike.
Clean. Direct.
The blade sank into the soft joint beneath the rear skulls.
[CRITICAL STRIKE – 1,643 Damage]
[HP Remaining: 1,876 / 3,556]
The knight roared in pain, stumbling.
Kael hit the ground running—pressing the advantage. He couldn't let it recover.
Another strike. Then another. Each angled, surgical, aimed at the weak points only years of gameplay had taught him to see.
[CRITICAL STRIKE – 1,797 Damage]
[Normal Attack – 79 Damage]
[Enemy Defeated: Cerberic Knight Variant – Lv. 21]
[EXP Gained: 17,019]
Kael dropped to one knee, panting.
His hands trembled. His whole left side ached. But he was alive.
And the beast was not.
But still...
No loot.
No gold.
No potion.
No item.
Just... silence.
Then footsteps.
Two more Cerberic knights rushed from deeper within the den—and ran past him. Not to attack. To flee.
Kael let them go.
He didn't have the strength for another fight. Not now.
Not after this.
The cave's end was near.
He lit a new torch and stepped into a broader chamber.
What he saw stopped him cold.
No treasure chests.
No piles of coins.
No system glow.
Just bodies.
Piles of them.
Dozens—maybe hundreds—stacked like trash. Arms twisted. Skulls split. Blood long dried into black filth on stone.
This wasn't a dungeon.
It was a slaughterhouse.
Kael stared, unmoving. The torch crackled. The stench was unbearable—but he didn't move.
These weren't NPCs.
These were people.
He had fought monsters in the game for years. Killed thousands. Farmed XP from beasts, bandits, corrupted knights, demons.
But the visuals were always sterile. The violence? Clean. Sanitized.
This?
This was real.
For the first time, the weight hit him.
This world is not a simulation.
The systems still existed. His panel. His stats. His levels.
But the rules had changed.
There was no reset button.
No respawn timer.
No logout.
He looked at his bloodied hands.
"I'm not Kael Thorn."
He swallowed.
"I am Lystor Merrick."
He said it again.
Louder.
"I am Lystor. Of the House Merrick. This is my world now."
And with that recognition, the system shifted.
[Quest Triggered: Mainline – "Restore the Merrick Legacy"]
[Objective: Return the House of Merrick to glory across Veyre and the Kingdom of Lucien.]
[Phase I Reward – Regional Fame Achieved: +5 Stat Points | +2,000,000 EXP | +10,000 Gold]
[Phase II Reward – National Fame Achieved: +10 Stat Points | +5,000,000 EXP | +100,000 Gold | +1 Revive Token]
[Note: Current Revive Tokens: 0]
Kael—or rather, Lystor—blinked.
One revive token.
His heart skipped.
That meant—if he'd died fighting the Alpha Cerberic...
He would have died forever.
His hands tightened on the hilt of his sword.
That fight wasn't epic. It wasn't a power fantasy.
It was a warning.
"Accept quest?"
Lystor didn't hesitate.
"Accepted."
He looked back toward the bodies. The torn bones. The blackened earth.
This is no longer about levels.
He turned and walked back into the dark.
This is about survival. Legacy. And war.