Chapter 14 - Trial of the Forsaken
“Hello, Abyssal Heir.”
The pressure intensified. It wasn’t just weight—it was presence, an overwhelming force that crushed any illusion of resistance. Jae-Hyun forced his head to move, even an inch, to see who was speaking. His vision sharpened, and there, at the center of the distorted throne room, he saw him.
Seated on a throne of scorched bone and blackened steel, a tall, imposing figure rested his arm against the armrest as if he had been waiting for this moment for a very, very long time. His body, though humanoid, shifted subtly, as if he wasn’t entirely tethered to this reality. The long, charred cloak draped over his form shimmered with an eerie, consuming darkness, its edges dissolving into embers.
Golden eyes burned through the shadows, staring directly into Jae-Hyun.
“So,” the figure said, leaning forward, “You’re the one carrying his will. What a joke.”
Jae-Hyun grit his teeth, his muscles straining against whatever was pinning him down. The sheer force of the aura pressing against him made every breath an act of defiance.
“Who the hell are you?” he managed to force out, his voice rough.
The figure tilted his head, a slow, deliberate motion, as if considering the question. Then, he let out a low chuckle.
“I am Belmoth, the Harbinger of the Forsaken.” “The Third General who carved a new path when our King grew weak.” “The same King whose remnants now cling to you like a dying ember.”
The words carried weight beyond mere arrogance—they resonated in the very fabric of the air, as though this place itself acknowledged his authority.
Jae-Hyun clenched his fists. The Third General... One of the betrayers. The ones who turned against the Demon King and ushered in his downfall.
A slow smirk formed on Belmoth’s lips.
“Let me look at you properly, shadow bearer.”
Jae-Hyun blinked.
And in that single instant, Belmoth was no longer on the throne.
He was inches from Jae-Hyun’s face.
A freezing grip clamped onto Jae-Hyun’s sword before he could even unsheathe it.
The sheer speed—no, the absence of movement—sent a shiver of instinctive terror down Jae-Hyun’s spine. It wasn’t teleportation. It wasn’t movement. It was simply happening.
Belmoth leaned in ever so slightly, his golden eyes burning with amusement.
“Do you truly believe yourself worthy of wielding his will?”
Jae-Hyun gritted his teeth, trying to pull his weapon free, but the immovable force holding it down was absolute. He had never felt something like this—not even against the Tower's strongest foes.
He had fought S-rank threats, endured the agony of Thragath's rage mode, barely surviving his brutal duel against Kaelzar in the depths of that cursed trial, but this was different. This was not something that belonged in the Tower. This was far beyond it.
Then, the world shifted.
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Jae-Hyun never realized it was happening. One moment, he was locked in Belmoth’s grip—the next, he was standing somewhere else.
Yet, it felt as if he had always been there.
The air was cold.
The Hollow Dreadlands.
No.
He was back where it all began.
Jae-Hyun felt his breath hitch, his hands trembling as he reached for his chest—his system was gone. His power was gone. There was no escape. The air stung with the putrid scent of rot, the wind carrying whispers of forgotten souls.
A shadow moved.
Laughter echoed in the darkness.
Tae-Jun stepped forward.
“You really thought you could change anything? You were always meant to die here.”
Jae-Hyun’s body froze. The weight of it all came crashing down. This was real.
It had always been real.
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Jae-Hyun lived through visions of loss, failure, betrayal.
Ahri and Mi-Rae stood before him, their gazes devoid of the warmth he once knew. Ahri’s lips pressed into a thin line, her sharp stare distant, detached. Mi-Rae, once the light in his darkness, looked through him as though he were no more than a ghost. His throat tightened, yet no words came. They took a step back. Another. He reached out—his body refused to move. The silence between them was heavier than steel, suffocating. They turned, fading into the mist as though they had never been there. Jae-Hyun could do nothing but watch as the last ties to his past slipped away, leaving him in a hollow, endless void.
Kaelzar knelt, his once-commanding figure reduced to a broken form. His shoulders trembled beneath an unseen force, his head bowed so low it seemed he would collapse beneath its weight. Belmoth stood over him, golden eyes filled with amusement as he placed a clawed hand atop Kaelzar’s head, his smirk widening in mockery. Jae-Hyun wanted to scream, to reach out and shake him back to his senses—but Kaelzar did not resist. He did not fight back. His silence was worse than a scream. Worse than any betrayal. Jae-Hyun’s breath hitched, his chest constricting as Kaelzar, the warrior who had once stood unwavering, became nothing more than a tool for the enemy. The once-mighty warrior does not resist, does not raise his sword in defiance. His head is bowed low, his form trembling under the weight of the betrayal he had once fought against. Belmoth places a hand upon his head as if bestowing a cruel blessing, and Kaelzar does not flinch. He does not speak—he cannot. Jae-Hyun watches in horror as Kaelzar, the general who had stood unwavering in the past, submits to the very force that had sought to destroy him.
He watched himself die, again and again. His body was torn apart by the beasts of the Tower, his screams lost to the void. Then he was kneeling before Tae-Jun, the cold bite of steel sinking into his chest as his brother’s sneer remained the last thing he saw. Another moment, he staggered through the Hollow Dreadlands, his body wasting away with each step until the world swallowed him whole. Then, the worst came—Belmoth, standing over him, golden eyes gleaming with quiet amusement. A hand, cold and merciless, pierced through his heart. Jae-Hyun gasped, choking on his own blood, his vision darkening. The world reset. The agony began anew. Again. And again. No escape. No end. Only death, stretching into eternity.
And it all felt real. The air. The blood. The emotions.
He couldn’t fight it.
Then—he woke up. Panting. Shaking.
Belmoth was still there.
Still watching.
“Pathetic.”
Then he raised his hand.
“Ver’dath. Remind him what true suffering feels like.”
The world around Jae-Hyun hadn’t stopped shaking.
His body still remembered the pain, his lungs burned with every breath, his fingers trembled against the cold floor. It was as if his soul itself had been ripped apart and sewn back together, over and over again.
Yet the nightmare hadn’t ended.
A thunderous sound echoed through the twisted throne room, shaking the very foundations of this eerie, foreign realm. Jae-Hyun forced his gaze upward, his vision still blurred by the weight of the illusions he had endured.
A towering figure stepped forward, his name glowing bright red in the corner of Jae-Hyun's flickering system interface:
Ver’dath
Jae-Hyun’s breath hitched as he instinctively tried to move—but his body refused to obey. He was spent. Broken. Cracked in ways he had never been before.
Ver’dath was a monster. His massive frame, wrapped in jagged black armor, exuded an oppressive aura of raw carnage. A wicked axe, nearly the size of Jae-Hyun himself, rested in his grasp. The air trembled with his mere presence.
Belmoth’s voice carried across the chamber, filled with mocking amusement.
“He endures, but he does not learn.”
Jae-Hyun clenched his jaw, struggling against the weight pressing down on him.
“Very well,” Belmoth continued, waving his hand lazily. “Break him.”
Ver’dath moved.
Fast.
Too fast.
The moment the warlord launched forward, Jae-Hyun barely had the chance to register his approach before a massive axe cleaved through the air, slamming into him like a comet crashing into the earth.
CRACK!
His ribs shattered instantly. His body was sent hurtling backward, smashing against the twisted obsidian walls of the chamber. White-hot pain exploded through his bones, his mind barely able to process the sheer force of the blow.
He couldn’t even react.
Jae-Hyun collapsed onto the cold stone, his vision swimming. His system flickered, barely holding onto coherence.
Warning: Severe Damage Sustained.
Health: 13% Remaining.
He coughed, blood splattering against the floor. His hands trembled as he tried to push himself up—but before he could even lift his body, Ver’dath’s iron grip closed around his throat.
Jae-Hyun’s breath hitched as he was lifted off the ground.
The warlord pulled him up like he weighed nothing, holding him aloft with one hand. The massive, jagged axe gleamed in the dim light as it rose once more.
Ver’dath let out a guttural, inhuman snarl, a sound that reverberated through the chamber like a death knell. His voice was not one of words, but of raw intent—a cacophony of growls and monstrous reverberations that sent shivers through Jae-Hyun’s spine.
The axe came down.
Jae-Hyun had no time to react—only a single moment of realization before the massive blade buried itself into his side.
Agony. Raw and unfiltered. It was as though his very essence was being split apart.
Critical Damage Sustained.
Warning: System Stabilization Failing.
A strangled, broken sound escaped Jae-Hyun’s lips. His vision wavered. His mind screamed for him to fight back, but his body was already failing.
Belmoth let out a mocking chuckle, stepping forward, his golden eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
“A disappointment, truly.”
Jae-Hyun’s body spasmed, his breath ragged, his limbs barely responsive.
Belmoth leaned closer, his voice smooth, cruel.
“Perhaps your sister or your little companion will put up more of a fight.”
Jae-Hyun’s heart stopped.
The words sank into him like molten steel, searing through the pain, through the haze, through the despair that had settled in his bones.
And something inside him snapped.
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A wave of unfathomable darkness surged outward.
The twisted throne room shook violently, the very air distorting under the force of Jae-Hyun’s sudden release of power.
His body moved before his mind could register it.
The shadows beneath him erupted, his aura distorting as his vision was consumed by an overwhelming, blinding rage.
He tore himself free from Ver’dath’s grasp, his form flickering, warping as dark energy coursed through his veins like liquid fire.
The warlord barely had time to react before Jae-Hyun was upon him.
A single devastating strike.
His sword tore through Ver’dath’s armor like it was paper. The warlord staggered back, golden ichor spilling from the wound. His red glowing name flickered, rapidly dimming.
Jae-Hyun didn’t stop.
His mind burned.
His body moved on instinct.
Ver’dath never had a chance.
With one final rage-fueled blow, Jae-Hyun ripped through the warlord’s chest, the massive figure collapsing in a heap, his red name fading into nothingness.
Dead.
The room shook, the sheer intensity of the energy still radiating from Jae-Hyun cracking the very walls of the throne room.
Jae-Hyun roared, his vision consumed by pure, undiluted fury. The rage clawed at his mind, drowning out all reason. His body moved on instinct, raw power surging through his veins. He tore through the distance toward Belmoth, his sword gleaming with dark energy.
But the moment he closed the distance—Belmoth struck.
A flick of his wrist. A casual movement. Yet it carried the force of an executioner's blade.
Jae-Hyun barely registered the attack before he felt the impact—a crushing blow to his ribs. His body lurched violently, the air torn from his lungs as he staggered. Another hit followed instantly. A devastating strike to his shoulder sent him spiraling backward.
His system screamed.
Warning: Health at 8%.
Jae-Hyun pushed forward one last time, swinging with all the strength left in his battered frame. Belmoth didn’t move.
Jae-Hyun’s blade whistled through empty air.
And then—a palm to his chest.
His entire body went numb. The impact sent a violent shockwave through his system, shutting down every function at once. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. His muscles refused to respond, as though every nerve in his body had been severed.
BOOM!
His body exploded backward, hurtling across the throne room. He slammed into the farthest wall with a deafening crash, the stone cracking beneath the impact.
Warning: Health at 2%. Critical Condition Detected. Severe System Instability
Jae-Hyun's limbs refused to move. His vision blurred.
His mind screamed at him to stand.
Through the haze of his fading consciousness, he saw Belmoth watching. Amused. Untouched. Unshaken.
Jae-Hyun tried to move. Nothing.
He willed his arms, his legs—anything—to respond, but they remained frozen, limp and unresponsive. No matter how hard he tried, his body refused to obey. Panic clawed at the edges of his mind, but even that was drowned out by the relentless weight pressing him down. He forced his fingers to tighten around the hilt of his sword, sheer desperation driving him forward. His limbs barely obeyed, his breath ragged, his vision swimming. Yet, his fury burned stronger than his failing body, forcing him to move when nothing else would.
A deep growl escaped his throat, his fury bubbling into something primal, uncontrollable. His mind refused to accept defeat.
He pushed forward with everything he had left, his body screaming in protest as he launched himself at Belmoth, his blade raised for one final, desperate strike.
And in the blink of an eye—Belmoth had moved faster than thought, materializing in front of him before he even processed it.
A hand wreathed in overwhelming force gripped Jae-Hyun’s skull, and before he could even react, his body was ripped from the air and obliterated into the wall with a force that rattled the entire chamber.
Belmoth’s golden eyes burned with amusement, his voice calm, almost bored.
“Seems I overstayed. You got lucky.” “I wanted to see what was so special about you. There was nothing.” “A waste of time.”
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The world began to fade.
Warning: Vital Signs Critical.System Recovery Unavailable. Forcing Emergency Shutdown...
His blurred vision locked onto Belmoth one last time. He wanted to move. To fight. To do anything.
But he couldn't.
And then—
Jae-Hyun was alone.
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Jae-Hyun drifted in absolute nothingness.
There was no air, no light, no sound. Only a suffocating void, stretching endlessly in every direction. His body—if he even had one—was unresponsive. The last thing he remembered was Belmoth's overwhelming presence, the feeling of being completely powerless, crushed against the wall like an insect.
Then—darkness.
And now? Silence. His limbs wouldn’t move, his breaths were shallow, barely noticeable. He could feel the heavy weight of pain, dull and numbing, yet so absolute that he knew he was close to death.
System Notification: Warning: All bodily functions critically impaired. Lifesigns at 3%.
The words appeared in his vision like cracks in the void, faint yet undeniable. His barely functioning mind processed them slowly, the meaning weighing on him like a final nail in his coffin.
So, this is it.
He was dying.
But then—
A slow, almost amused chuckle rippled through the void.
“Well… look at you. A failure in every sense of the word.”
The voice wasn’t unfamiliar. It had tormented him before—his own system, mocking him.
“You really thought you could fight him? You barely lasted seconds. How embarrassing.”
Jae-Hyun felt nothing. No anger, no resistance. Just an overwhelming emptiness, as if his very being had been shattered along with his pride.
“You should be dead right now, you know.”
“If Belmoth had hit you one more time, you would’ve been wiped from existence. Gone. Erased.”
“…You got lucky.”
Another cruel laugh echoed through the void.
“Surviving by a hair. But that’s all you’ve ever been, right? Just barely holding on?”
Jae-Hyun’s breathing was shallow, his consciousness flickering like a dying flame. Was that true? Was he really just barely holding on?
Then—
The void around him trembled. The system’s voice quieted.
“Hmph. Well, as amusing as this has been, I suppose you’re not done just yet.”
“Wake up, Abyssal Heir.”
And then—
Light.
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Jae-Hyun’s eyes snapped open, his body jolting slightly as he gasped for air. His lungs burned as if he had been suffocating for days, and a sharp pain radiated from every inch of his body.
The blinding white of the hospital ceiling greeted him.
For a moment, he just breathed.
The sterile smell of antiseptic filled his senses. His body felt like lead, weighed down by the sheer toll of his injuries. His mind tried to process everything—the void, Belmoth, the loss, the humiliation.
Then the door creaked open.
A nurse peeked in, startled at his sudden wakefulness. “You’re awake. I’ll get the doctor.” She hurried out before he could respond.
A moment later, another figure entered—Ahri.
Her face was unreadable at first, but the slight redness around her eyes told him everything. She had cried—but not here, not in front of him.
She didn’t speak right away. Her eyes scanned him, taking in his injuries, the way he still struggled to breathe. Finally, she exhaled sharply.
“What the hell happened?”
Jae-Hyun swallowed hard. His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke. “Where am I?”
“Hospital,” Ahri muttered, arms crossed. “You’ve been unconscious for three days.”
Jae-Hyun frowned. “Three days?”
Ahri gave a curt nod. “I broke into your apartment when you didn’t answer me. Found the letter. Tracked down the old training center. Dragged you here.”
He exhaled slowly, absorbing her words. His body still felt like it had been torn apart and barely stitched back together.
Ahri’s gaze flickered with something unreadable before she finally spoke again. “You look like hell.”
Jae-Hyun gave a weak chuckle. “That bad?”
Ahri hesitated—just for a moment—before muttering, “I thought I was too late.”
A silence stretched between them.
Jae-Hyun stared at the ceiling, the weight of everything settling in. He had lost. Completely. There had been nothing he could do against Belmoth. No strategy, no skill, no trick that could have worked. He had simply been outclassed.
Ahri clicked her tongue, looking away for a brief moment before muttering, “You’re an idiot.”
For a second, her lips curled into a small smile—genuine, unguarded. It was fleeting, but it was there. A quiet acknowledgment that he was alive, that he had made it back. Then, as if catching herself, she schooled her expression back into something more neutral, but the relief in her eyes lingered.
Jae-Hyun let out a long breath. “Yeah. I know.”
Ahri sighed, but this time, there was something softer in it—a quiet relief beneath the exasperation. “You’re impossible.” Her arms loosened from their crossed stance. Instead of stepping back, she lingered, eyes scanning his face as if reassuring herself that he was truly awake. Then, with a final exhale, she stepped toward the door. “The doctor needs to check in on you before they let you leave.” With that, she turned, giving him one last glance before stepping out of the room.
Jae-Hyun forced himself to sit up, his body protesting every motion.
Pain exploded through his muscles the moment he moved, his limbs locking up as if rejecting the idea of standing. His breath hitched, and for a moment, he nearly collapsed back onto the bed. Every fiber of his body screamed in protest.
His hands clenched against the sheets, forcing himself to endure it. Even after healing, his body wasn’t the same. He gritted his teeth and pushed through, ignoring the tremors in his arms as he slowly sat upright.
His system was silent now, no mocking remarks, no immediate threats looming over him.
His gaze drifted to his phone on the nearby table. He reached for it with some difficulty, his fingers trembling slightly as he unlocked the screen.
Unread Messages: 27
Most were from Ahri. The rest—
Mi-Rae.
His thumb hovered over her name before finally clicking it.
Mi-Rae: Are you okay?You better not be dead. Why aren’t you answering me?I swear to god, Jae-Hyun, if you’re ignoring me—Please just respond.
Jae-Hyun exhaled slowly before typing.
Jae-Hyun: I’m fine.
A moment later, another text came through almost immediately.
Mi-Rae: Liar.
Jae-Hyun chuckled softly. She wasn’t wrong.
Ahri watched him from the side but didn’t comment. Instead, she leaned against the wall, arms still crossed. “She’s been blowing up your phone. You should’ve seen the first few messages—she almost sounded concerned.”
Jae-Hyun shook his head, closing his eyes for a brief moment. He still had a lot to process. His loss, his recovery, and—
The next steps.
But for now, he simply replied:
Jae-Hyun: I’ll explain soon.
But for now, he needed to rest.
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Jae-Hyun barely slept. The doctor had insisted he stay for further tests, checking for any lingering damage before clearing him for discharge.
Even with the hospital bed beneath him, even after his body had been treated, the pain lingered. Not just the aches and bruises, but the heavy, unshakable weight of defeat. His mind replayed the fight with Belmoth over and over—how effortlessly he had been struck down, how powerless he had been.
He stared at the ceiling, thoughts racing, before finally sitting up. His body still felt stiff, weaker than before. Even though he was healing, he could tell—Belmoth’s attacks had done something deeper.
Then, just as he reached for his phone, the system interrupted.
System Notification: Penalty Due to Missed Training: Adjusted. New Objective Assigned: Survive a Rank A Fracture for 7 Days.
Jae-Hyun froze.
Then, another notification appeared.
Warning: Challenge Enhanced.
A slow, dull throb formed in his skull. What?
He scrolled through the system messages, his brows furrowing as he read the details.
Survival Condition: Limited Resources.
Objective: Survive for 7 Days.
Monster Waves Will Increase in Strength Over Time.
Escape Is Impossible Until Completion.
Failure Will Result in Severe Consequences.
Jae-Hyun exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. So that’s how it was going to be.
He had barely gotten out of his last fight alive, and now his system was throwing him into a forced survival scenario with no escape.
His thoughts were interrupted when the door opened again, and Ahri stepped inside, holding two takeaway cups of coffee. She paused, narrowing her eyes as she saw his expression.
“Why do you look like you just read your own death sentence?” she asked, handing him one of the cups.
Jae-Hyun took the drink but didn’t answer right away. He glanced at the steaming liquid, then back at the system messages still floating in his vision. His grip tightened slightly on the cup.
“Another punishment,” he muttered.
Ahri’s gaze sharpened. “For missing training?”
Jae-Hyun nodded, lips pressed into a thin line. “Survive a Rank A Fracture for a full week.”
Ahri’s expression darkened. “You just woke up from nearly dying, and it’s already throwing you back in?”
He let out a humorless chuckle. “Looks like it.”
Ahri sat down in the chair beside him, crossing her legs. She hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I know it's the system, but are you really going back in?" Her fingers drummed against the cup in her hands. "You haven’t even told me properly what happened." She took a sip of her coffee, her expression unreadable. After a long pause, she finally said, “You’re still going to do it.”
Jae-Hyun exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "It wasn't my brother who sent that message. It was someone more dangerous. I don't know enough yet, but when I do, I'll tell you."
She let out a slow exhale, tapping her fingers against the cup. “And after that?”
Jae-Hyun’s gaze flickered. After that?
For so long, his focus had been on getting revenge on his father and Tae-Jun. But now? The encounter with Belmoth had changed something.
This wasn’t just about revenge anymore.
“If beings like him exist…” Jae-Hyun muttered under his breath, “Then how many others are out there? And who else knows about them?”
Ahri didn’t say anything at first. She watched him, studying his expression, as if measuring how much he had changed in just a few days.
Finally, she leaned back in her chair. “Guess you’ve got your work cut out for you.”
Jae-Hyun huffed, finishing his coffee. “Yeah. I do.”
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After being discharged from the hospital, Jae-Hyun didn’t waste any time.
His body still ached, but he pushed through. The sooner he finished this challenge, the sooner he could move forward.
Ahri walked with him to the Tower entrance, her hands in her jacket pockets. “You sure you don’t want backup?” she asked, raising a brow.
"No, it's your punishment." The system's voice echoed in his head, cold and absolute. Jae-Hyun clenched his jaw but didn’t argue. He had already expected as much.
Jae-Hyun shook his head. “System won’t let me. This is a solo challenge.”
She clicked her tongue. “Of course it is.”
Back at the hotel, Jae-Hyun sat on the edge of his bed, rolling his shoulders. His body still ached, but there was no time to dwell on it. The system had given him his next punishment, and he had to prepare.
Ahri leaned against the wall, watching as Jae-Hyun packed a small bag of essentials—though they both knew the system wouldn’t let him bring much.
“I know it’s the system,” she said, arms crossed, “but are you really going back in? You haven’t even told me properly what happened.”
Jae-Hyun zipped up his bag but didn’t pause. “It wasn’t my brother who sent that message. It was someone more dangerous. I don’t know enough yet, but when I do, I’ll tell you.”
Ahri’s jaw tightened, but she exhaled slowly. “I don’t trust you to come out of this in one piece. And if you do, I want to make sure you actually call me right after. Promise me—once you’re out, you contact me immediately.”
Jae-Hyun looked up, meeting her gaze. There was no room for argument in her expression.
“Fine,” he said. “But you should know—I’ll be in there for an entire week in system time. That’s about seven hours here.”
Ahri blinked, her brows drawing together. “That’s insane. Even though it’s only seven hours here, you’re spending an entire week in that place?” Her voice was laced with frustration. “You just got out of the hospital, and now you’re throwing yourself into this?”
Jae-Hyun sighed. “It’s not like I have a choice. The system already decided.”
Ahri shook her head, clearly displeased. “Then promise me something.” Her voice was firm. “The second you step out, you call me. I don’t care if you’re exhausted or barely standing—just call.”
Jae-Hyun smirked slightly but saw the concern behind her words. “Alright. I promise.”
She let out a slow breath, some of the tension easing. "Good. Then within seven hours, you better call me immediately. And don't make me come looking for you again."
Jae-Hyun held her gaze for a moment before exhaling. "I get it, Ahri. I promise." He rolled his shoulders, trying to push past the lingering aches in his muscles. "I'll be fine. And if I’m not, well… I’ll figure something out."
He sat down, pulling out his phone. There was one more thing he had to do before entering.
He scrolled through his messages and found Mi-Rae’s name. She had sent several worried texts since the last time he responded.
Jae-Hyun: I won’t be able to talk for a few hours.
A few seconds later, another message.
Jae-Hyun: If anything happens, you can contact my companion. You can trust them.
He didn’t say a name. He didn’t even specify a gender. Just left it vague. Then, he attached Ahri’s number and hit send.
Mi-Rae read the message almost instantly. He watched as the typing bubble appeared, then disappeared, before a simple reply came through.
Mi-Rae: Okay.
Jae-Hyun exhaled, locking his phone. He pushed himself up from the bed, rolling his shoulders. "Okay. I’m ready. I’m going to go."
Ahri didn’t respond immediately. She watched him, her expression neutral, but there was a flicker of something else in her eyes—worry, maybe even a hint of sadness. Finally, she spoke, her voice quieter than before. "You better come back."
Jae-Hyun smirked slightly. "I always do."
She let out a small breath, looking away as if she had nothing more to say, but her hands curled into fists at her sides for just a moment before she relaxed. Jae-Hyun reached into the system, pulling out the Fracture key—an obsidian shard pulsating with a faint, eerie glow. He turned it between his fingers before gripping it tightly and stepping toward the portal. The energy in the room seemed to shift as he raised the key, twisting it slightly.
Ahri’s eyes flickered toward it, then back to him. Her voice was quiet, but firm. "You better come back."
Jae-Hyun smirked slightly, but there was no arrogance in it—just quiet resolve. "I always do"
She didn’t say anything else, but she didn’t look away either, as if committing this moment to memory. Jae-Hyun exhaled, reaching into the system interface. "I'm ready for the punishment."
The response was immediate.
System Notification: Challenge Initiated.
The air twisted violently, and in front of him, the Fracture ripped open, a swirling vortex of dark energy expanding outward. The very space around them distorted, sending waves of pressure rippling through the room.
Ahri tensed at the sudden shift in the atmosphere, her eyes flickering between Jae-Hyun and the portal. She had already said it before, but this time, her voice was quieter, almost like a wish. "You better come back."
She didn’t say anything else, but her gaze lingered, concern flickering behind her eyes. Then, as he took the final step forward, she remained behind, watching as he inserted the key into the swirling energy of the Fracture’s entrance.
And then—he stepped through.
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Chapter 14: The General’s Gambit (Part 5)
Arrival in the Wasteland – The Fracture’s Brutal Reality
Jae-Hyun stepped through the portal, and in an instant, everything changed.
The world around him stretched into an endless wasteland of cracked, dry terrain, the ground a dull shade of lifeless gray. There were no trees, no water, no landmarks—just an open, barren expanse with nothing but the occasional jagged rock formations breaking the monotony.
A scorching wind howled across the plains, carrying specks of dust that stung against his exposed skin. The air was dry and almost suffocating, thick with the weight of absolute emptiness. This place wasn’t meant for survival. It was meant for slow, inevitable death.
Jae-Hyun’s boots crunched against the brittle earth as he took a step forward, scanning the horizon. There was nothing.
No food. No water. No shelter.
Only him and the looming weight of time.
System Notification: Objective: Survive for 7 Days.
Jae-Hyun exhaled sharply. Simple. Direct. Brutal.
He glanced at the sky. There was no sun, only an endless, dim haze stretching as far as the eye could see. Time felt meaningless here. If not for the system, he wouldn’t even know when a full day had passed.
“This place is a damn graveyard,” he muttered.
Yet, despite the overwhelming emptiness, his mind was clear.
He wasn’t afraid.
He wasn’t hesitant.
If anything, this isolation fueled something inside him—a growing, burning determination.
For too long, he had been fighting just to survive. Fighting against the betrayal of his father and brother, the twisted entities that had tried to end his life, the unknown forces pulling the strings behind the Tower.
This wasn’t just about survival anymore.
This was about power.
The only way to win was to keep moving forward. To never stop.
Jae-Hyun clenched his fists. He wasn’t just going to endure these seven days. He was going to use them.
He was going to leave this place stronger than ever before.
----------------------------------------
The First Hunt – The Sub-Quest Awakens
A faint growl broke the silence.
Jae-Hyun immediately turned, his hand tightening around his sword’s hilt. From over a cracked hill, he saw movement—a pack of creatures emerging from the horizon.
They looked almost like warped jackals, their bodies lean but unnaturally elongated, their skin stretched tightly over exposed muscle. Their eyes gleamed with a sickly green glow as they locked onto him.
System Notification: [Twisted Carrion Jackals] - Level 32
Jae-Hyun’s eyes narrowed. Green names.
Weak.
But there were at least twenty of them.
They fanned out, moving in a coordinated pattern, their claws scraping against the ground. Their numbers were their real strength.
Jae-Hyun didn’t hesitate.
He dashed forward, his sword gleaming in his grip.
The first jackal lunged. Too slow. Jae-Hyun sidestepped and swung in a clean arc, severing its head in an instant.
System Notification: 1/1,000 Kills Acquired.
Sub-Quest Unlocked: "Echoes of Endless Strife." Objective: Kill 10,000 monsters within 7 days. Reward: [???]
Jae-Hyun’s breath slowed. A hidden quest?
The name alone was ominous. The reward was unknown.
But he didn’t have time to think.
The rest of the pack charged all at once.
He moved on instinct, his blade flashing as he weaved through their ranks. The first few kills were effortless—they were too slow, too weak. Even when they attacked in groups, their strikes were predictable. He cut them down without much effort.
Minutes turned to an hour. Then two. Then four.
They never stopped coming.
But he kept swinging.
System Notification: Level Up! You are now Level 47.
Jae-Hyun exhaled, lowering his sword for a moment. Even with their sheer numbers, he wasn’t struggling yet.
Then, the system buzzed with a new alert.
System Notification: Warning: Monster Strength Will Increase Every 4 Hours.
System Notification: Rest Period – 1 Hour Between Waves. During this time, you may choose to rest, eat, search the environment, or access the system shop. The shop will be locked once combat resumes. Monsters will not aggro during resting periods unless attacked.
Jae-Hyun’s brows furrowed as he absorbed the new information. "So, I get breaks—but only under the system’s terms. I’ll have to make every minute count."
Jae-Hyun’s grip tightened around his weapon. He could already feel the weight of the challenge shifting. The first wave was over, and now he had a short window to prepare.
He opened the system shop, hoping to stock up on some essentials before the next wave. His eyes scanned the inventory, but the moment he saw the prices, his expression darkened.
System Notification: Shop Prices Have Been Adjusted – All Items Now Cost 10x Their Original Value.
Jae-Hyun's jaw clenched. "Are you kidding me?"
A slow, almost mocking chuckle echoed inside his head.
“What? You thought survival would be easy?”
Jae-Hyun exhaled sharply, resisting the urge to curse out loud. "This damn system..." He closed the shop interface with a flick of his wrist, already knowing he wouldn’t be able to afford anything useful for a while. The moment the first wave ended, he'd have to decide how to spend his rest period wisely. Sleep was an option, but with limited food and water, he needed to ration carefully. His inventory held some supplies, but would they last the entire week?
He glanced at his system interface, considering whether the shop had any useful items. But that would have to wait—right now, survival was the only priority. If he wanted to push through the 10,000-kill sub-quest, he would have to use his downtime aggressively, hunting monsters even when he should be resting.
His mind raced through possibilities, but he knew one thing for certain—this was more than just survival. This was a test of endurance, strategy, and sheer willpower. Resources were nearly nonexistent, but he wasn’t completely unprepared—he had stored food and water inside the system, though he had no idea if they would last long enough. He also had healing potions, but at this rate, they would be depleted far too quickly.
He had options, but they were limited. Rest periods weren’t just for recovery; they were for making crucial decisions. Sleep, restore mana, eat, search for resources, or hunt to push the sub-quest further. Every second of downtime needed to be used efficiently.
For the next hour, he decided to wander the wasteland, taking in every detail of his surroundings. The cracked earth stretched endlessly in every direction, with no visible signs of food, water, or shelter. The air was still, eerily silent except for the occasional gust of dry wind.
In the distance, he could already see the next wave forming on the horizon. A soft ticking sound echoed in his mind, and as he focused, a faint countdown appeared in the corner of his vision. Their light yellow names hovered above them, but just as the system had promised, they didn’t attack. They simply lurked, waiting for the countdown to expire.
System Notification: Next Wave Begins In: 00:54:42
Jae-Hyun clicked his tongue. "So they really won’t move until the time runs out. That means I can use this hour however I see fit."
A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
The difficulty had already jumped in just five hours. Green-named monsters had become light yellow, and the challenge was only beginning. If things escalated this fast, what would it look like after a full day? After seven?
He exhaled slowly, gripping his sword tighter.
“So that’s how fast things are going to escalate.”
And with that—the real challenge began.