The first thing Rowan noticed was how quickly people stopped pretending.
One moment, they were shouting orders, calling each other brothers, swearing they would clear the dungeon together.
The next—
They were running.
Boots pounded against stone as his party retreated down the tunnel behind him. Someone shoved past his shoulder hard enough to spin him sideways.
"Hold it back!"
"Just a few seconds!"
"Rowan, stall it!"
Not help us.
Not fall back.
Stall it.
The meaning was obvious.
Rowan staggered, barely keeping his footing as pain tore through his ribs. His shield arm trembled violently, muscles already pushed beyond exhaustion.
Behind him, something massive roared.
The sound filled the cavern like thunder trapped underground.
Dust rained from the ceiling.
The dungeon boss had awakened.
And they had chosen their sacrifice.
Rowan laughed under his breath, though it came out wet and broken.
Figures.
He'd always known where he stood in the Ironfang Party hierarchy—useful enough to bring along, expendable enough to abandon.
Low level. No rare skills. No noble backing.
Just another sword hired to die first.
The tunnel entrance flashed with retreating torchlight.
Then darkness swallowed it.
They didn't even look back.
A heavy impact shook the ground.
Rowan turned slowly.
The Grave Troll emerged from shattered stone, its enormous body scraping against the cavern walls. Gray flesh hung in thick folds over bulging muscle, stitched together by old scars and half-healed wounds from countless battles.
One milky eye stared blindly.
The other locked onto Rowan.
Alive.
Hungry.
Angry.
Its breath rolled across the chamber in hot, rotten waves.
Rowan tightened his grip on his sword.
His arm shook.
He checked instinctively—
No mana potions.
Shield cracked.
Armor split along the side where claws had nearly gutted him earlier.
His status was obvious even without a system window.
He wasn't surviving this.
Still…
He raised his blade.
"Yeah," he muttered hoarsely. "Come on then."
The troll charged.
Stone exploded beneath its feet.
Rowan forced himself forward instead of retreating, slashing at its leg as it swung downward. The impact hurled him across the floor like a rag doll.
Air vanished from his lungs.
Something cracked inside his chest.
His sword skidded away into darkness.
He tried to stand.
His body refused.
The troll approached slowly now, savoring victory.
Smart enough to recognize prey that could no longer fight.
Rowan lay there, staring upward as shadows swallowed his vision.
So this was it.
Not heroic.
Not meaningful.
Just another corpse left in a dungeon no one would bother retrieving.
A strange calm settled over him.
He thought of the years spent chasing strength that never came. Watching talented adventurers rise while he remained stuck scraping by.
Always almost good enough.
Never chosen.
Never important.
The troll lifted its massive foot.
Rowan exhaled.
"…At least it's quick."
The world went white.
A sharp tone split reality.
Not sound.
Something deeper—like a thought forced into existence.
Everything stopped.
The troll froze mid-motion.
Dust hung motionless in the air. Pebbles suspended halfway through their fall. Even Rowan's own blood lingered above the stone floor in perfect crimson droplets.
His breath caught.
"…What?"
Light unfolded before his eyes.
Transparent. Blue. Impossible.
[ Searching For Compatible Host… ]
[ Host Vital Signs: Terminal ]
[ Survival Probability: 0.2% ]
Rowan blinked slowly.
Hallucination.
It had to be.
People saw strange things before death. He'd heard stories.
Still… it felt too real.
The letters shifted.
[ Compatibility Confirmed ]
[ Initializing — Infinite Conquest System ]
Pain vanished.
Not dulled.
Removed entirely.
Warmth flooded through his veins, spreading from his chest outward like liquid fire. Torn muscles tightened. Bleeding slowed instantly.
Rowan sucked in a sharp breath as foreign knowledge slammed into his mind.
Concepts he had never learned.
Levels.
Authority.
Evolution paths.
Bond synchronization.
It felt less like learning and more like remembering something buried deep inside him.
[ System Bound Successfully ]
[ Primary Directive: Grow Stronger ]
[ Secondary Directive: Conquer ]
Time restarted.
The troll's foot crashed downward—
Rowan rolled aside instinctively.
Stone shattered beside him.
He scrambled backward, heart hammering.
"I moved…"
His body obeyed perfectly.
Cleaner. Faster.
A new window appeared instinctively before his vision.
[ Name: Rowan Hale ]
[ Level: 3 ]
[ Class: None ]
[ Status: Critical Recovery ]
[ Unique Skill Acquired — Predator's Insight Lv.1 ]
The troll roared again and lunged.
Fear should have frozen him.
Instead—
Something clicked.
Lines appeared across the monster's body.
Not visible lines, exactly. More like certainty.
Weakness.
Damaged knee joint.
Unstable spine rotation.
Eye cavity penetration point.
Rowan moved before doubt could return.
He dove for his fallen sword, rolled beneath a sweeping arm, and slashed across the troll's injured leg.
The blade bit deep.
The monster staggered.
[ Weakness Exploited ]
Adrenaline surged through Rowan's veins.
He pressed forward.
Every movement felt guided—efficient, precise. Years of desperate combat suddenly aligned into clarity.
The troll swung wildly.
Rowan sidestepped.
Climbed its collapsing frame.
And drove his sword downward with everything left in him.
Steel pierced flesh.
Then bone.
Straight into the creature's eye.
The roar died halfway through.
The massive body crashed to the ground hard enough to shake the dungeon.
Silence followed.
Real silence.
Rowan stood there, chest heaving, staring at what he'd done.
"I… won?"
A chime echoed gently inside his mind.
[ Enemy Defeated ]
[ Experience Gained ]
[ Level Up ]
[ Level Up ]
Energy flooded him.
Warmth spread through his limbs as fractures knit partially together and exhaustion retreated.
Strength.
Actual strength.
Rowan laughed softly, disbelief bleeding into relief.
For the first time since becoming an adventurer—
He didn't feel weak.
Another notification appeared, darker than the rest.
[ Hidden Function Detected ]
[ Requirement Not Met ]
→ Bond Partner Required
Rowan frowned.
"Bond partner…?"
Before he could think further—
A scream echoed through the dungeon.
Sharp.
Female.
Close.
Followed by snarling monsters.
Rowan turned toward the deeper tunnels automatically.
Logic spoke immediately.
Leave.
You survived.
Escape while you can.
No one would blame him.
No one had saved him.
His foot turned toward the exit—
—and stopped.
The abandoned tunnel lingered in his memory.
The sound of retreating footsteps.
The certainty of being disposable.
Rowan exhaled slowly.
"…Yeah. Not happening."
If power meant becoming like them—
He didn't want it.
He picked up his sword.
Blood still stained the blade.
And began walking toward the scream.
Behind him, the corpse of the Grave Troll dissolved into drifting motes of light.
Far beyond mortal sight—
Something ancient shifted.
Attention turned toward the dungeon.
Toward the newly awakened host.
Interest awakened where none had existed before.
A piece had moved on the board.
And the game had begun.
[ Infinite Conquest System Active ]
[ Host Journey Initiated ]
Rowan tightened his grip on his weapon as another distant cry echoed ahead.
Whatever waited deeper inside—
This time…
He wouldn't be the one left behind.