In the wild, untamed outskirts of what could generously be called civilization, a motley crew of soldiers was given a mission that sounded more like a plot from a medieval soap opera than actual royal orders. Their quest? Trek to the scenic town of Havenbrook, famed for its picturesque views and now, apparently, a hotbed for royal drama, to snag the kingdom's most wanted: a former knights commander, a dethroned princess, and their band of merry misfits.
The king, in his infinite wisdom and flair for the dramatic, decreed they be brought back in chains—alive if possible, but hey, no biggie if not. To spice things up, the squad included several of the kingdom's top royal knights because they were about to face off with Roland, the legendary knight whose reputation was so terrifying, even ghosts gave his house a wide berth.
Despite Roland's age, which by all accounts should have had him enjoying retirement and yelling at young squires to get off his lawn, he remained the most feared warrior in Everhart. Rumors had it he could disarm a man with a glare and had once fought off a bear with nothing but his bad breath.
So, with a spring in their step and a probable death wish, the soldiers set off towards Havenbrook. They knew the mission was risky, possibly foolish, and definitely a mess in the making. But orders were orders, even if they sounded like the king had been hitting the medieval fantasy novels a tad too hard.
Captain Elijah Moonshadow, the enigmatic leader of this peculiar expedition, stands as a figure shrouded in the kind of mystery that makes bards wax lyrical and enemies sleep with one eye open. With his raven-black hair that seems to absorb light and those piercing green eyes that miss nothing, he's the kind of leader who doesn't just walk into a room—he makes the room come to him. Young, yes, but don't let his age fool you. Elijah's proficiency in guerrilla warfare and his almost supernatural ability to merge with the shadows make him a formidable force on any battlefield.
Yet, for all his might and skill, Elijah finds himself caught in a web of political intrigue spun by the new king—a ruler whose orders leave a taste in Elijah's mouth that's akin to having to gulp down a live salmon. Each command from the monarch is met with a resigned sigh from Elijah, a silent protest against the distasteful tasks he's bound to carry out. Despite his dedication to duty, the thought of replacing Sir Roland, the legendary knight he was supposed to succeed, leaves a bitter taste. It's not just about filling someone's boots; it's about stepping into a role marred by controversy and bloodshed, a position handed down not by merit but by the elimination of those who stand in the way.
Elijah's heart isn't set on the power or the prestige of the title; his drive comes from a deeper, more personal place. He's not just a soldier or a would-be successor in a game of thrones; he's a warrior with his own code, battling the demons of a decision that weighs heavily on his soul. The prospect of Sir Roland and Princess Seraphina's execution, and his role in what's to come, casts a shadow over his ambition. It's a job, sure, but at what cost?
In this tangled dance of duty and honor, Elijah Moonshadow walks a thin line between the loyalty he owes his troops and the orders he's sworn to obey. His leadership—a blend of compassion and ruthlessness—earns him the respect and fear of those who follow him, but it's his inner turmoil that defines him. As he leads his team toward their uncertain fate, Elijah grapples with the complexities of leadership, loyalty, and the haunting question of what it truly means to be powerful.
"Can we really trust the Lord, or is he going to pull a fast one on us?" Thalia Reed, our eagle-eyed scout, couldn't help but question, her voice laced with a mix of curiosity and skepticism.
Elijah Moonshadow, the young but surprisingly sage captain of our motley crew, gave her a reassuring look. "If he was planning something sneaky, he wouldn't have tipped us off so quickly. Sounds more like his plan A flopped, so he threw us the bone," he explained, putting a spin on the politics of their mission with the ease of someone who's played more than a few rounds of royal intrigue.
"And what if our targets smelled the rat and scampered off already," piped up Dorian Hawk, our resident mage and part-time philosopher, adding another layer to the speculation cake.
Sighing he added, “all this travel would be for naught. “
The group shared a knowing glance, a silent agreement that in their line of work, expecting the unexpected was the norm. With a collective shrug and a chuckle, they pressed on, guided by Elijah's blend of strategic caution and an uncanny ability to find humor in the face of danger.
Amidst their trek through untamed wilderness, our motley crew stumbles upon the legendary dungeon, a structure so ordinary in appearance that it might as well have been part of the scenery, like a particularly unremarkable rock or a tree that's aspiring to be an average bush. This dungeon, known to few and cared about by fewer, would have been just another footnote in their journey if not for the sudden appearance of a holographic pop-up in front of each member. The kind of pop-up you can't just swipe away, no matter how hard you try.
Divine revelation: This is a very important notice!!!
SSS+ Legendary Rank Dungeon Outbreak has occurred.
Warning! Warning! Warning!
The sudden prompt had barely sunk in when a series of metallic clashes and the bright dance of sparks erupted from the depths of the dungeon, breaking the stillness of the air. This was quickly followed by a cacophony of footsteps, as if an army stirred in the shadows. The soldiers, though their primary mission was the capture of the princess, found their attention irresistibly drawn to the source of the disturbance. After all, a dungeon outbreak, especially one classified as SSS+ Rank, was not something you could simply walk past, even if you wanted to.
Curiosity mingled with duty, their disciplined formation momentarily forgotten as they exchanged glances, a silent consensus forming among them.
This was going to be more than just a detour.
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"Seriously, when you keep mentioning 'network' and 'system', could you maybe elaborate a bit? I'm flying blind here," Arion asked, scratching his head in confusion.
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"Of course! Think of it this way: every person in this world is assigned a level. The more challenges you face or the longer you survive, the higher your level climbs," Sera explained patiently.
"Interesting... But how does one actually see their level? Is there some sort of implant given at birth?" Arion was curious.
"Ha, no, nothing as high-tech as that. Actually, the system isn't openly available to everyone. Most people live their entire lives without ever knowing their level. It's a closely guarded secret, accessible only to a select few, primarily through the Galadrian Church," she elaborated, trying to demystify the concept.
"So, in a world where your level is a big secret, how do people know what they're capable of? How do they choose their careers?"
"It's quite simple, really. For the majority of professions—think merchants, craftsmen, scholars—your level is irrelevant. You could be a level 1 and still become the richest merchant in the land or a renowned scholar."
"That raises another question. How does the Galadrian Church determine someone's level?"
"They possess an artifact, a mysterious tablet whose origins are shrouded in legend. Some believe it's a divine gift from the Goddess Galadria herself. This tablet reveals the level of those who are allowed to know."
"You mentioned earlier that levels aren't important for non-adventurous professions. But what about those who seek adventure or whose professions involve combat? How do they figure out their levels or improve?"
"That's where it gets fun. While I can't say for sure how other realms handle it, Everhart took a unique approach by establishing an adventurers' guild. This guild keeps a comprehensive log of all known monsters and threats. Drawing from historical encounters, they've devised a ranking system for these challenges."
"Ranking system? How does that work?"
"Exactly. From the lowest F rank to the top-tier SSS rank. Take the dungeon we mentioned earlier, flagged as SSS rank—that's using the guild's system. Somehow goddess revelation acknowledged our understanding of ranks and gave us prompt accordingly. Each rank reflects the danger level and the experience needed to tackle such threats. It's a clever way to integrate the concept of leveling into the fabric of our daily lives. It's not flawless, but it's the closest we've come to making the system work for everyone."
"Neat, so how do combatants get their ranks?"
"It's straightforward. If you can defeat ten beasts of a certain rank on your own, you're considered to be at the next rank up. Say you're an F-ranked adventurer and you take down ten slimes solo, you move up to E rank."
"Sounds like a pretty direct system."
"What about soldiers and mercenaries, though? I can't imagine they're too keen on beast hunting."
"Actually, due to frequent dungeon outbreaks and monster attacks, it's mandatory for everyone to serve as an adventurer for at least three years. That includes high-ranking officers and royal commanders. The only exceptions are members of the royalty, given the high risks involved in adventuring."
"That makes sense. But doesn't this system allow for powerful individuals with bad intentions to conceal their true ranks?"
"Yes, and hiding your rank is illegal here. Still, it happens in the darker corners of the kingdom. Some are caught, but the only way to prove such a crime is by taking the accused to the Galadrian Church for a level assessment. Since the kingdom has to pay a significant fee to the church for this service, convicted individuals are often enslaved to recoup the costs. That's why slavery hasn't been abolished here."
This explanation shed light on the legality of slavery in a world where such practices were generally condemned. It also illuminated how the kingdom indirectly condoned slavery, either by necessity or through willful ignorance.
"I wonder what rank I would be?" Arion mused, genuinely curious.
"Well, considering the dungeon we rescued you from was SSS rank, we initially thought you might have been the dungeon boss. But you don't exactly fit the bill of a typical boss or monster. Then again, you took down that giant so effortlessly. Maybe there's a rank above SSS? Who exactly are you, Arion?" Sera pondered, her curiosity piqued as she tried to piece together the enigma that was Arion.
"I don't know much about myself. I feel like I understand my past, but when I try to recall how I ended up in that dungeon, it's just blank. It's as though I'm missing a crucial piece of my memory."
"That's okay. Once we enter the Gaul Empire, we'll take you to the Galandrian Church to have you checked out. Perhaps the oracle there can shed some light on your past and identity. You see, the Galandrian oracle has the ability to communicate directly with the goddess, and the gods know everything," Sera reassured him, hopeful that the divine connection could unravel the mysteries surrounding Arion.
"Yes, but how will we afford their services? Oh, right, you're a princess. But then, how will I pay for it? Don't tell me you plan to enslave me too," Arion joked sarcastically.
"Haha, no, nothing like that. But yes, I might need a favor in return. I'll let you know when the time comes," Sera replied, a hint of mystery in her tone.
"I'm not sure how I feel about owing favors, but I guess we'll cross that bridge when we get to it," Arion said, somewhat resigned yet intrigued by the unfolding adventure.
Picking up the pace, Arion approached Roland with a brisk stride, his curiosity about the day's plans evident in his tone.
"Good morning, Roland. So, what's on the agenda today? Are we still going to let this walking meatball tag along?" Arion asked, barely concealing his disdain.
Roland stiffened slightly at the plain use of his name without any formal title, the emphasis on "Sir" slipping out almost reflexively—a reminder of his discomfort with the informal address. But realizing the shift in their circumstances, and that he no longer held any official position that demanded such formalities, he made a mental note to adapt.
"Please bear with us, Sir Arion," Roland responded, making a conscious effort to ease into the casual dynamic. "We've discovered that some of the items this... unrefined creature has given us are embedded with tracking magic. We're not sure when our adversaries might strike, so having a hostage could provide us with a bargaining chip," he explained, the seriousness of the situation momentarily overshadowing his personal discomfort.
As Roland's explanation unfolded, Arion grasped the strategic necessity behind their unwanted companion's presence, understanding the pragmatism in keeping the unappealing lord close at hand.
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"Retreat! Retreat!" Captain Elijah Moonshadow's voice pierced through the chaos, urgent and commanding. He sounded the horn for a strategic retreat, a call that was both desperate and decisive.
Initially, Moonshadow and his team had tried to give the strange metal monsters that emerged from the dungeon a wide berth, hoping to avoid confrontation. But curiosity turned to alarm when it became clear that these creatures were not just wandering aimlessly; they seemed to be following the same path as the soldiers. Or worse, were they tracking them?
The situation escalated quickly when one of Moonshadow's men, perhaps out of fear or a misplaced sense of duty, launched an attack against one of the metal behemoths. That moment of folly marked the turning point, leading to a catastrophic engagement from which Moonshadow's forces could not recover. In the blink of an eye, they found themselves overwhelmingly outmatched, with their numbers dwindling rapidly—losing at least 80 percent of their men in the ensuing chaos.
The realization hit Moonshadow hard; they were no match for these metal monsters. The only option left was to fall back, regroup, and deliver the dire news to the king. This new threat to the kingdom was unlike anything they had faced before, and it demanded a response on a scale they were ill-prepared for at the moment. They needed to return with a larger force, perhaps even enlist the aid of any combatant willing to stand against this unforeseen menace.
With a heavy heart and a sense of urgency, Moonshadow and the remnants of his crew beat a hasty retreat, moving in the opposite direction in a desperate bid to save what was left of their lives. After covering a few kilometers, with the monstrous echoes of their pursuers fading into the distance, they noticed the metal monsters veering off towards Havenbrook.
Panting, hearts pounding, and minds racing, Moonshadow could only muster a bewildered, "Just what on earth is happening?" The day had taken a turn for the surreal, leaving them to ponder the origins and intentions of these formidable foes, and how this encounter would change the fate of Havenbrook—and potentially the entire kingdom.
And just as Moonshadow had regained his breath, his gaze inadvertently drifted back to the dungeon entrance. What he saw next stopped him dead in his tracks, his jaw dropping, eyes widening in sheer disbelief.
Emerging from the depths of the dungeon was a behemoth like no other—a giant metal monster that towered over the landscape. This boss was a spectacle of dread, equipped with four arms, each wielding glowing swords that radiated with an ominous energy. A fifth appendage protruded from its back, resembling a trunk yet hollow, adding to its intimidating silhouette. With a roar that echoed the apocalypse, it shook the very earth, causing the trees to tremble as if in fear, merely from the power of its voice.
Then, with a purpose that seemed as deliberate as it was terrifying, this monstrous entity turned its formidable gaze towards Havenbrooke, setting its course with a determination that boded ill for all who lay in its path.
Moonshadow, still reeling from the initial shock, could only watch in horror as this new, formidable adversary made its intentions clear. The implications of this development were dire, not just for his team, but for the entire realm of Havenbrook and beyond. The stakes had just escalated beyond their worst fears, heralding a challenge that would require every ounce of their courage, strength, and resolve.
“A dungeon break of SSS rank”
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