"What the hell is that?!"
Sitting in the middle of the chamber was a towering creature—another dark elf, but clearly different from the others. It was broader than the rest, clad in light armor designed for agile combat. His silver hair was tied in a rough ponytail, with loose strands spilling over his shoulders.
The chamber itself was unremarkable. At the far end stood a tent, and at the center was a single chest.
The dark elf was sitting on it.
"He's a boss, isn't he…" Jan mumbled, nervous.
He had that kind of aura.
His eyes were closed, but he wasn't sleeping—he was listening, utterly still, hand resting on a steel-engraved spear that gleamed—elegant, yet deadly.
Jan glanced at the name floating above his head:
[Fallen Heir, Dorakon ??? — Lv. 79]
'Fallen Heir…?!'
Jan blinked, then shook his head. "Why would a monster be an heir? Do they have kingdoms?"
From when he'd read about tower monsters, it made no sense. Still, the name lingered.
Jan paused—then his eyes shot wide.
'Wait. Identify!'
[Identify!]
[Fallen Heir, Dorakon ??? — Lv. 79]
[Corrupted Golden Blood]
Race: Dark Elf (Corrupted)
Class: Spear Warden [Tower-Altered]
Status: [Severely Corrupted] – [Stable]
Affinity: ???
Skills: ???
"Golden blood…" Jan muttered. "Didn't Saveth mention that before…?"
He remembered the way Saveth had spoken of Marcus—"my precious golden blood."
At the time, Jan thought it was just a twisted taunt.
But here it was again—this time appearing in the system.
Marcus was one of the rulers of Valkeries. A king, in all but name.
And now this… monster—Fallen Heir—was labeled with the same phrase.
'If Marcus is a king, and this monster is an heir… and both have golden blood… then—?'
He scratched his head.
A dry chuckle escaped him.
There was no clear connection—except for one thing.
'The golden blood. But what is it anyway?'
That was the key.
Without understanding that, there was no solving any of this.
'That is… if there's even a mystery to solve.'
He sighed.
Jan looked at the monster again.
[Level 79]
'Pretty high. But I can read it, which also means…'
There wasn't a huge gap between them.
Jan grinned.
'Looks like I leveled up a lot that night.'
It was the first good news he'd had all day—but it also came with a choice.
'Do I fight… or look somewhere else?'
He didn't have to challenge this boss in particular. His mission was to gather materials that any boss would drop—he could just walk away and look for a weaker one, like Alpha.
'Besides… it's a dead end.'
The room had no other exits. If he managed to win and the boss didn't drop the stone, he'd have to go back and find another path.
'Still…'
He eyed the chest beneath the monster.
'I'm really tempted to see what's inside that thing.'
Jan's eyes flashed brightly as he thought about the possibilities.
'Gold? Loot? Books?!!!!!'
He had to see what was inside.
'If I'm gonna do this, I should be cautious.' Jan glanced at the monster again. 'Our levels might be close, but he looks terrifying…'
He walked briskly back to his backpack and then returned, stopping a few feet from the entrance—just enough to stay undetected.
"I didn't have anything to throw before… but now—"
He reached inside, and a spear materialized in his grip. Pulling it free, he fixed his eyes on the dark elf.
Boss fights were tricky. They always had some hidden skill or surprise. Any early advantage was worth its weight in gold. That was something Jan had learned the hard way.
Clenching the spear tighter, he took a step back. Then another. Then another—he didn't stop until the boss was barely visible.
He bounced lightly on his heels, taking deep, focused breaths.
Then, without warning, he sprinted.
He charged down the stone corridor, gathering every ounce of momentum he could. As he neared the doorway, he launched himself forward and hurled the spear with everything he had.
The moment it left his fingers, the air whistled.
*BA-DOOOM—*
[Congratulations! You've learned a new skill: Whirlwind Javelin Lv.1]
"Yes!"
Despite faceplanting onto the room's floor the second he landed, Jan grinned wide, eyes gleaming, as the spear cracked the air with a deafening boom.
*Crack—*
[-0]
[Boss is immune to attacks. You must enter his domain first.]
"…Fuck."
The spear had shattered on impact, and Dorakon's eyes snapped open.
He stared Jan down for a moment—then rose to his feet with eerie grace. He flipped his spear twice in his hand before falling into a perfect battle stance.
Jan braced himself, half-expecting the boss to leap at him while he was still on the ground.
But Dorakon waited.
"...A true martial artist, huh?" Jan muttered, pushing himself up. "This is interesting."
*Sheeeth—*
Jan slowly drew his sword, eyes locked on the monster before him.
'Not a single opening.'
"Tsk."
It seemed his first instinct was right—he really needed to nail that first hit.
The two stared each other down.
Jan was used to this. In Kendo, fighters would stand still for long stretches—one mistake could end everything.
But with monsters, this was a first.
Most of them attacked him on sight up until now. Yes, some had some intelligence, but most moved on instinct.
'This one's calculating...'
*Whoosh—* *Clang—*
As if reading his hesitation, Dorakon moved first—stepping forward and swinging his spear. Jan was nearly caught off guard but managed to raise his sword just in time.
The barrage didn't stop.
Dorakon struck again. And again. Each blow faster, harder—hammering the same side with mechanical precision. Jan's arms trembled from the impact, but the repetitive pattern gave him just enough rhythm to adjust.
Waiting for the next blow, he sidestepped, aiming for a counter.
"Huh?!"
It never came.
*Boom—*
The swing came from the other side, strong enough to send Jan flying in the distance.
[-250]
Luckily he was close enough, and only the spear's handle caught his body. Otherwise, he would have suffered much greater damage.
Controlling his body mid-air, Jan flipped around, and then thrust his sword onto the ground, drawing an arc in front of him as he planted his legs onto the ground to stop himself from reaching the wall.
Behind the handle of his sword, he stared at the dark elf.
'He's strong.'
Dorakon didn't chase him. Gripping his spear, he watched and waited for him to come back.
Jan pulled his sword free, took a breath, and started walking back—already running through options in his head.
Soon the two were facing each other again.
Dorakon took the initiative again, as Jan still couldn't find an opening.
Pinned in place by a flurry of swings, all he could do was block with everything he had—until the dark elf shifted to thrusts.
These weren't just regular stabs. The spear bent and curved mid-strike, dancing like it had a mind of its own. Jan tried to follow the direction of each strike, but when he failed to keep up, he did the only thing he could:
He covered his vitals.
[-81] [-63] [-92] [-26] [-131] [-33]...
The relentless barrage carved into him from every angle—and didn't stop until he was launched across the room.
[-443] [-321]
His back slammed into the stone wall. A sharp gasp escaped his lips before he crumpled to the ground.
[You are now in a bleeding state. Health will decrease over time.]
Every bone and muscle screamed in protest. The cuts weren't deep, but they were plenty—he was bleeding out fast.
Moving now would only make it worse.
'If I can just make it to my backpack… and take that potion…'
Jan gritted his teeth and tried to stand.
Dorakon was still watching him.
He moved with caution, dragging himself along the wall—inch by inch—edging closer to the entrance where he'd left his backpack.
And still… the dark elf didn't chase him down.
'He's letting me go…?!'
[+2000 HP Restored]
[You're no longer bleeding.]
As the potion took effect, Jan exhaled—and watched Dorakon step back, returning to the chest.
'This isn't chivalry...'
Even when he had the perfect chance to finish him off, Dorakon never left the chest's side. Jan had suspected as much before, but now it was obvious.
'You're always positioning yourself between me and the chest.'
He was protecting it.
'And that makes you vulnerable.'
Jan slung his backpack on and stepped into the room again. Dorakon's eyes locked onto him instantly—ready, unmoving, just waiting for Jan to resume the fight.
But Jan had another plan.
He started circling the room.
Dorakon followed with short, patient sidesteps—tracking him like a shadow. When Jan reached halfway, the dark elf stopped again, posting up in front of the chest.
'I knew it.'
Jan grinned—and dipped his hand into his backpack.
A spear flashed into his hand.
*BA-DOOOM—*
He hurled it with everything he had.
Dorakon reacted instantly, lifting his own spear to parry—only to realize mid-motion that Jan hadn't aimed at him.
The spear was flying toward the chest.
With a sharp sidestep and a downswing, Dorakon caught it mid-air—shattering the handle.
But before the shards even hit the ground, two more spears were already coming.
Dorakon spun his spear with fluid grace, deflecting both with perfect form.
Then he looked toward the source—
And froze.
Jan was gone.
His head whipped left, then right. The room was empty.
Until—
"Right here."
Dorakon looked up—just in time to see a fourth spear descending from above.
Too close.
He couldn't parry in time.
*Tang—*
[-1287]
The spear crashed into his chest—driving him back. It struck so hard that the tip rang against the metallic lock of the chest behind him.
Jan watched from a distance, grinning as a chunk of the boss's health bar disappeared.
Veins pulsed across Dorakon's forehead, twitching like they were about to burst.
Jan raised an eyebrow.
"What—you gonna quit?"
Dorakon roared.
"ROOOOOOOOOAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRR!!"
Jan chuckled dryly.
"I guess not."