The Coiled City was vast and full of promise, but it also signaled the start of something different—something darker. Sure, the Twilight City and the Tombs of the Ancients were challenging, but this? This was on another level. Rumors about the Lower Dungeon painted a grim picture: stone statues that came to life, capable of delivering one-hit kills to anyone who couldn’t master dodge mechanics or rely on a sturdy shield.

The catch? Solo players couldn’t freely explore the Lower Dungeon. You needed a guild.

I cursed under my breath. The idea of joining a guild again stirred unpleasant memories. My last guild, back in Royale Online, had been the reason I’d nearly quit gaming entirely. The thought of having to rely on others, even temporarily, made my stomach twist. But if I wanted to proceed, I didn’t have a choice.

There was one person I could trust. Even if she was insufferably smug at times.

I opened my voice menu and sent a quick message:

“Mira, I’m in The Coiled City. If you want to meet up and discuss a potentially lucrative partnership, let me know.”

Her reply wasn’t a message but her actual arrival. Half an hour later, she strolled into the Brass Tavern, her rogue’s gear polished and pristine.

Mira sauntered over and sat across from me, her smirk already forming.

“So,” she began, her tone dripping with amusement, “you’ve discovered the downside of being a solo player. Parties and guilds are the key to unlocking the real content. Told you.”

I groaned inwardly. I’d walked straight into that one. “I see you’ve joined a guild yourself.” My gaze flicked to the emblem by her name: ‘Ascension.’

“Don’t let the name fool you,” she replied, leaning back. “That specter—yeah, the pissed-off dev haunting the game—asked if I wanted to ‘ascend.’ I told it no. I’d rather climb the mountain myself.”

I raised an eyebrow at her response, intrigued. Mira had rejected the specter’s offer, just like I had. That made me wonder: who had actually taken the deal?

“So, the guild name,” I ventured, “is it just... on the nose, or is there more to it?”

She shrugged. “Kind of both. Like the Red Masters, Ascension has been around since the beta. Joining an established guild gives you access to more resources, better intel, and the kind of experience you can’t grind for. Levels don’t equate to skill, after all. Plus, the guild master wants to meet you. He’ll be here in about ten minutes. You willing to give him a chance?”

I hesitated. Memories of Royale Online surfaced—specifically, the betrayal by Blazer and his cronies. They’d turned guild politics into a weapon, forcing me to quit the game entirely for a time. The scars of that experience hadn’t fully healed, but the allure of the Lower Dungeon tugged at me like a siren’s call.

“Fine,” I muttered. “Let’s see what he has to offer.”

Exactly ten minutes later, a tall, imposing figure strode into the tavern. Apollo, the guild master of Ascension, exuded confidence. His gear was a mix of heavy plate and intricate runes glowing faintly with arcane energy, befitting his unique Mage/Berserker class.

He approached our table and extended a hand. “Astraeus. It’s an honor. Mira’s told me about your exploits back in Royale Online. I played it a bit myself, during its peak, and your name was everywhere.”

I shook his hand, wary but intrigued. Apollo continued.

“I understand you’re here for the Lower Dungeon,” he said. “And I’ll be blunt—you can’t access it solo. The game’s design locks it behind guild affiliation, partly for balance and partly to force cooperation. Now, I know you prefer going it alone, but joining a guild doesn’t mean giving up your autonomy. It just opens doors.”

Apollo gestured to the seat opposite him and sat down. His eyes held a spark of curiosity.

“Now, about you specifically,” he said, leaning forward. “There are rumors about your fight with Blazer—about how you dismantled him with skills most people don’t even think to combine. The way you mitigated the MP drain from the Warlock’s Dark Pact abilities? Genius. I’ve seen plenty of Fighter/Warlock hybrids, but none that operate with your level of precision. You’re a builder, Astraeus, and one hell of a creative one.”

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

His praise caught me off guard. I wasn’t used to guild masters being so genuine—or so knowledgeable.

“So,” he continued, “what do you say? Ascension offers you access to the Lower Dungeon, resources, and a team when you need it. We won’t get in your way if you want to solo most of the content. But here’s the hard truth: the game won’t let you progress past this point without joining a guild. The dungeon will chew you up without backup, no matter how skilled you are. And being part of a guild provides more than just access—it offers protection. Not that I think you need it, but it’s there.”

I glanced at Mira. She gave me a knowing look, smug but supportive.

I sighed. “Fine. I’ll join. If only to keep Mira off my back.”

Apollo grinned and extended his hand again. As we shook, the system notification popped up:

You have joined the guild: Ascension.

The deal was done. I was officially part of a guild again. But this time felt different. Ascension wasn’t Blazer’s crew. They didn’t feel like backstabbers or opportunists.

For the first time in years, I felt a flicker of optimism. The Lower Dungeon awaited, and with this team, I might actually survive long enough to see what lurked in its depths. The chat box flooded with messages welcoming me to the guild. “Welcome to Ascension!” “Glad to have you, Astraeus!” “Mira’s been talking you up!” Each line of text came from a different member, their enthusiasm evident. The sheer size of the guild—230 members—meant a mix of potential allies and, if things went sideways, possible adversaries. But they seemed like decent people, gamers who enjoyed the game as much as I did, though trust wasn’t something I gave lightly.

I glanced at Mira, who was grinning. Apollo was about to leave but turned back, his expression serious.

“There are two things I expect from every guild member,” he said. “First, have fun. If you’re not enjoying yourself, what’s the point? Second, attend the weekly guild meetings—every Tuesday at 6 p.m. The schedule’s in the Guild tab on your HUD. Show up. Share your insights. Learn from others.” He gave me a sharp nod and then strode out, leaving me with a mix of curiosity and determination.

A weekly meeting... it seemed mundane, but it was also an opportunity. These players had far more experience in the game, and I was hungry—no, ravenous—for information. Mechanics, lore, strategies—everything that could give me an edge. I was here for the climb, not the handouts.

Mira stayed behind, her expression turning curious as she leaned forward slightly. “So, about that spectre... Was it aggressive when it made the offer to ascend?”

I thought back to the encounter, the strange chill that crept into my core as it spoke. “Aggressive? More like insistent. It acted like I’d earned the right to ascend, but the way it framed it... I don’t know. It felt off, like it was dangling bait.” I paused, studying her face. “I wonder how many players it’s managed to lure. I doubt the offer’s some game-breaking shortcut, though. That’d be too easy.”

Mira’s brow furrowed as she fell into thought. She was an analyst in the real world, always working theories like a puzzle. Her voice was steady, but there was a sharpness to her reasoning. “If the spectre’s offer isn’t limited to a small group and it’s appearing to newbies as well, then it’s a psychological play. The quick and easy path can be tempting for people who can’t stomach the grind. Someone like Blazer, though?” She shook her head. “No. He wouldn’t take it.”

“Not even after I humiliated him?” I raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

Mira tilted her head thoughtfully. “How many times have you clashed with him? He always comes up short, but he’s no fool. Blazer would never stoop to something like that. His pride wouldn’t let him. If anything, beating you with his own skill is probably what keeps him coming back.” A small smirk touched her lips. “Or, well, it did. Word is, after your last match, he took a break. Went to ‘touch grass,’ as they say.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Didn’t realize I’d beaten him so thoroughly.” Still, I put Blazer out of my mind. The Lower Dungeon was the real challenge now.

“What about the Higher Dungeon?” I asked, pivoting quickly. “How do I get access to that?”

Mira blinked at my abrupt shift but answered smoothly. “You’ll need an Orb of Ascent. From what I’ve heard, it’s only found on the lowest floor of the Lower Dungeon.”

I frowned. “How many floors are we talking?”

“150,” she said, her voice carrying a note of warning. “And it’s brutal. The traps down there? Sadistic. Someone got one-shot by a flame jet even though they had maxed fire resistance—these are people who hunt Red Flame Dragons for fun.”

The sheer scale of the challenge made my pulse quicken. “What about the bosses?”

“Mini-bosses all the way down. The type changes depending on the floor, time of day, even how many monsters you’ve killed. Oh, and the regular monsters?” She smirked. “They’re non-standard. Everything’s two tiers above normal. Skeleton soldiers are now skeleton captains. Skeleton mages? Liches. And the AI? Adaptive. Every single monster learns your patterns, adjusts tactics. Some have even developed immunities to specific attack types.”

My mind reeled at the possibilities. A dungeon that fought back, that punished predictability. It wasn’t just a test of skill—it was a proving ground. And then there was the spectre. A rogue AI, perhaps? Or was there more to it? A fragment of a long-dead dev, haunting the game world? Theories bubbled in my mind, but I shoved them aside.

Right now, the dungeon was calling. The Lower Dungeon wasn’t just a challenge—it was a crucible. One I intended to conquer.

“I’ll need to grind for EXP and gear before diving in,” I muttered, more to myself than to Mira. The feverish anticipation was already building.

She studied me, her sharp eyes catching every flicker of excitement. “You’re already planning your run.”

“Of course. The Loremaster node might even pop in there. If it does...” I trailed off, already imagining the loot, the knowledge.

Mira laughed softly, shaking her head. “You never change.”

I logged out shortly after, the game’s intensity still thrumming in my veins. Back in the real world, I grabbed food and a drink, sinking into my couch as the sound of rain pattered against the window. The rainy season had started.