The corrupted Golem let out a thunderous roar as it charged again, fists glowing red, eyes pulsing
with violent malice. But this ti—Ethan didn’t move. Not right away.
He stood firm, watching.
His eyes tracked the twitch in the Golem’s arm joints, the staggered rotations of its torso, the
rhythm of its red-lit veins. Every twitch, every stomp, every surge of unstable mana—it all
repeated in subtle loops, only slightly shifting each ti. A twisted kind of algorithm.
"Hmm," Ethan muttered. "So even at 200%, you still follow a pattern. Just better at hiding it."
He let out a long breath, sharpening his focus, feeling the weight of each pulse of corrupted
energy radiating off the creature.
The mont the Golem’s right leg shifted—telegraphing a downward slam—Ethan burst into
motion. He twisted past the blow with surgical precision, Warlord’s Fang whistling through the air
as he slashed the underside of its left arm.
Sparks and a trail of corrupted bark flew in the air.
The Golem reeled. Ethan didn’t let up.
He flowed like liquid shadow—his sword carving arcs of steel and silence through the battlefield.
The Golem swung again, but now Ethan was anticipating. Countering. Toying with it.
"Left feint... right elbow swing... pause... charge." Ethan’s voice was low and calm, like a
professor dissecting a theory mid-battle. "Predictable."
Each ti the Golem tried a new sequence, Ethan was already there—slipping past, blocking,
slicing tendon-like root cords, dodging just before a spike could protrude from beneath its armor.
"Adapt all you want. I’ll still keep up."
The battle wore on, and soon—Ethan wasn’t dodging because he had to. He was dodging
because he wanted to. Experinting. Testing.
By now, he was practically dancing around the hulking monster. He parried its clawed fists with
one hand, slashing open glowing veins with the other.
A spark of exhilaration lit in his chest. There was always a special thrill in figuring out an enemy, in
cracking its code. It wasn’t just combat—it was a puzzle. A conversation in steel and blood.
And then—
CRACK!
Warlord’s Fang plunged deep into the Golem’s exposed core. Red light burst outward like an
imploding sun.
The beast let out a final, warbled scream before exploding into fragnted shards of digital
debris, the simulation hissing as the pieces dissolved.
[Simulation Complete.]
[Victory Achieved.]
[Opponent Strength: 200%]
[Analyzing Battle Data...]
The field quieted. Ethan exhaled and dropped to one knee, resting his elbow against his thigh.
Sweat rolled down the side of his face, even though none of this was real. His heartbeat still
thundered like war drums in his ears.
"Whew... even simulated, that thing still hits like a pissed-off mountain."
He stood and approached the remaining fragnts of the Golem’s shattered core. The digital
fragnts flickered—less like code, more like echoes of sothing organic... corrupted.
He knelt, reaching toward the simulated remnant. The pulsing red glow cast eerie shadows over
his features.
"System," he said. "Scan the corrupted core. Don’t give everything... just enough to know
what I’m dealing with."
[Analyzing fragnt...]
[Partial Analysis Complete.]
[Origin: Anomalous energy signature detected.]
[Trace: External corruption—non-dungeon source.]
[Possible cause: Human interference.]
Ethan’s brow furrowed. His voice dropped to a whisper.
"So... soone tampered with this thing. That mutation wasn’t natural... wasn’t just part of the
dungeon’s own evolution."
He stood slowly, fingers curling into a tight fist as new possibilities unfurled like poisoned flowers
in his mind.
If soone could manipulate dungeon cores... they could manipulate monsters anywhere. Entire
ecosystems. Entire cities.
He pictured armies of beasts, infected and driven mad, storming human walls. He pictured
adventurers lured into dungeons and devoured by creatures they thought they understood.
He pictured the cult’s hidden faces, chanting in dark places, weaving corruption into the marrow
of the world.
"There’s soone behind this. Soone smart enough... dangerous enough... to twist a dungeon
boss into that."
A low chill crawled down his spine. It wasn’t just a one-ti fluke. It was a threat that could reach
anywhere, affect anyone.
Then, the system chid.
[DING! Main Scenario Unlocked.]
Ethan’s eyes snapped to the floating prompt before him.
[Main Scenario: "Trail of Corruption"]
[Objective: Discover the source of mutated dungeon cores.]
[Warning: This scenario may evolve based on the user’s decisions.]
[Difficulty: A-Rank (Scaling)]
[Rewards: Unknown]
A slow, excited grin spread across Ethan’s face. His blood, still warm from the simulated battle,
pulsed a little faster. His thoughts were already racing with theories.
"Oh... you’re giving a mystery, huh?" he murmured, eyes gleaming. "This is gonna be fun."
He waved the prompt aside and exhaled slowly. His mind churned with suspicions and threads
yet to be followed.
"I’ll find you," he whispered to the air. "Whoever you are, whatever cult or backdoor madness
you’re running—I’m coming for you."
He took one last look at the fragnts still flickering on the floor of the simulation. They seed
to pulse like dying stars, secrets trapped inside fading light.
Then, without another word, he raised a hand and snapped his fingers.
"End simulation."
The 3D world fractured like a mirror. Light spun, ti unhooked itself, and Ethan was yanked
upward—out of the artificial battlefield and back into the quiet, dim-lit comfort of his room in the
Knight Quarters.
The world righted itself.
He was back in his chair, the distant sound of sparring still echoing faintly through the training
yard outside.
He leaned back, staring at the ceiling.
He felt the weight of it all pressing in—the core’s corruption, the cult lurking in shadows, the
shape of sothing vast moving behind the curtains of the world.
Yet...
A spark of adrenaline still thrumd under his skin.
It wasn’t just fear or duty driving him. It was curiosity. The hunt.
"Alright," he murmured to himself, voice quiet but firm. "Let’s see how deep this rabbit hole goes."
But before he could stretch or take a deep breath—
KNOCK KNOCK.
Soone rapped on his door.
Ethan blinked. "Hmm?"
The knock ca again, firr this ti.
He ran a hand through his hair, still feeling the lingering high from the simulation fight. His muscles
ached—but his mind was razor-sharp.
"Alright... showti."
He stood, walking toward the door with relaxed, asured steps. Whoever was on the other side
of that door... had co at exactly the right ti.
Because Ethan Graves had just discovered that the world was a lot ssier than it let on—
And now?
Now he had a trail to follow.
Reviews
All reviews (0)