Chapter 15 -
Jae-Hyun’s fingers tightened around his sword hilt as the last of the yellow-named monsters disintegrated into particles of light. His breath was steady, but exhaustion seeped into his muscles, a lingering reminder that time was his greatest enemy here. The weight of the battle settled into his limbs, and he exhaled slowly.
The hour of rest had finally arrived.
System Notification: Rest Period – 1 Hour 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 wiped the sweat from his brow, scanning the vast wasteland around him. The cracked terrain stretched endlessly, the wind carrying fine dust across the barren expanse. The bleakness of his surroundings did little to settle the growing tension in his chest.
Between these waves, time blurred together. Hours passed in a cycle of relentless battles—strike, evade, kill. He had carved his way through countless enemies, their bodies vanishing into shimmering particles, but the weight of each encounter dragged on him. He wasn’t sure how many waves had gone by since the start of the trial, but his stamina was thinning, and his focus wavered.
The real challenge had only just begun.
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The final wave of the day loomed on the horizon.
Unlike before, the monsters didn’t swarm him in coordinated droves. Instead, a single entity emerged from the darkened haze—an imposing figure wrapped in jagged armor, its eyes glowing with a predatory light. The sheer weight of its presence sent an involuntary shiver down Jae-Hyun’s spine.
System Notification: [Scourgeborn Tyrant] – Level 55 (Dark Orange Name)
Jae-Hyun’s breath hitched. That was a massive leap.
A boss-class entity? Already?
His eyes flicked to the system interface, skimming over the wave conditions. Unlike before, the system had included something new.
Special Condition: The Boss Does Not Need to Be Killed. Survive the full 4-hour wave, and the wave will be considered complete.
Jae-Hyun exhaled sharply. So I don’t have to fight it. I just have to survive.
But even as he processed the information, something about the creature’s stance irked him. It wasn’t just some mindless beast—it was watching him, assessing him.
His grip on his sword tightened. He could wait out the wave, find a place to keep himself safe until the four hours ran down. That was the logical thing to do.
Yet, deep inside, a familiar fire burned. This wasn’t a trial of survival. It was a chance.
Jae-Hyun narrowed his eyes, considering his options. He turned his focus inward and asked the system directly.
"What happens if I kill the boss before the wave ends?"
A brief silence followed before the system responded.
System Notification: If the boss is defeated before the wave concludes, the remaining time will be available for rest, resource gathering, or any other actions.
A smirk flickered across Jae-Hyun’s lips. So, that’s how it is.
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Jae-Hyun hesitated for a fraction of a second, analyzing his opponent. He had fought countless beasts today, but this one—this one was different. It carried itself with the confidence of a predator at the top of the chain. One mistake, and he wouldn’t just be injured—he’d be dead.
He exhaled, steadying himself. No room for hesitation.
Jae-Hyun surged forward.
The moment his foot left the cracked earth, the Scourgeborn Tyrant reacted. A low, guttural growl reverberated through the wasteland, and then—it moved.
Fast. Too fast.
Jae-Hyun barely registered the pain at first—his body felt like it had been torn apart. His breath hitched as he tried to move, but a sharp, agonizing jolt ran through his ribs, forcing him to collapse onto his side.
He couldn’t breathe.
The Scourgeborn Tyrant didn’t stop to gloat. It moved toward him, claws sinking into the dirt, preparing the final strike.
Move. He told himself. MOVE.
But his body didn’t listen.
Was this it?
He twisted his body at the last moment, narrowly avoiding the full brunt of the attack, but the force still sent him skidding backward across the brittle ground.
Warning: Health Dropped to 78%.
His heartbeat spiked.
The boss was on another level.
Jae-Hyun gritted his teeth, shaking off the impact. The monster wasn’t just strong—it was intelligent. Its movements weren’t wild or reckless; it fought with an awareness, its strikes calculated to break him down, not just kill him outright.
And then—he made a mistake.
Exhaustion dulled his reflexes. A single misstep.
Jae-Hyun pivoted too slowly, and in that instant, the Tyrant’s tail lashed out, slamming directly into his side.
BOOM!
His body launched through the air like a broken doll, crashing into a jagged rock formation with a sickening crack. The force rattled his bones, his vision flickering.
Warning: Critical Impact Sustained. Health at 32%.
Jae-Hyun gasped, pain flaring through every nerve in his body. His limbs felt sluggish. His body screamed in protest.
The Tyrant wasn’t waiting.
It leaped toward him, all muscle, all weight, all force.
Jae-Hyun forced himself to move. His instincts screamed at him—dodge!
But his body lagged. Too slow.
At the last moment, he gritted his teeth and twisted his sword upward, dark energy coiling around the blade.
CLANG!
The impact shattered the rock behind him, but his sword dug deep into the beast’s arm.
For the first time, the monster let out a snarl of pain, staggering backward, struggling to stay upright. Its massive form wavered, blood pooling beneath its feet. A low, agonized growl rumbled from its throat, its predatory eyes flickering with defiance—yet, despite the wounds covering its body, it refused to fall.
Jae-Hyun collapsed to one knee, chest heaving, vision swimming. He could feel the tremor in his hands—he was burning out. Fighting too long. Pushing too hard.
But there was no time to hesitate.
He reached into his inventory, his fingers fumbled uselessly against the bottle, his grip weak, slipping. The glass clattered against the dirt, rolling just out of reach. A curse left his lips. He couldn’t even hold onto a damn potion.
"Damn it," he rasped.
He couldn’t even hold onto a damn potion. Move. He forced his body to obey, snatching the vial and wrenching the cork off with his teeth. The liquid burned as he downed it in one desperate gulp.
System Notification: Health Restored to 59%.
But he didn’t feel any stronger.
His arms still shook. His legs refused to respond immediately. His sword felt like it weighed twice as much as before.
The Tyrant had already recovered—it was coming at him again.
Not yet. I need more time.
But even as the potion worked its magic, he knew—it wasn’t enough. His limbs still felt heavy, his muscles burning with exhaustion, each breath dragging like a weight against his ribs. He had been fighting this monster for nearly thirty-six minutes, a battle of attrition that had pushed him beyond his limits.
And the Tyrant wasn’t slowing down.
It lunged again, faster, more erratic, sensing that its prey was on the verge of collapse. But this time, Jae-Hyun didn’t meet its charge head-on.
He adapted.
He forced himself to move with calculated precision, weaving through its massive swings instead of absorbing the impact. Every dodge had to count. Instead of overcommitting, he let the beast’s own momentum betray it—forcing it into awkward lunges, making it strike where he no longer was.
Seconds stretched into eternity.
The Tyrant roared in frustration, its movements growing desperate. That was when Jae-Hyun saw it—a pattern.
The way its right arm lagged half a second too long after a claw swipe.
The way its tail twitched before a sweeping attack.
The way its breath hitched just before a forward charge.
He saw the openings—and he exploited them.
The moment the Tyrant overextended, Jae-Hyun struck.
He spun low, ducking beneath a wild slash, his blade carving a deep gash along its exposed ribcage. The beast staggered, snarling in agony, but he wasn’t done.
He couldn’t afford to be.
A surge of dark energy coiled around his blade as he propelled himself forward, using every last ounce of his strength.
The Tyrant reared back, preparing a final, desperate strike—
Too late.
Jae-Hyun’s sword drove deep into its chest, piercing straight through its armor.
The Tyrant reeled back, a deep, shuddering snarl escaping its throat. Blood poured freely from the wound in its chest, seeping into the cracked earth beneath them.
But it wasn’t dead yet.
With a final, desperate attempt, it lunged forward—claws swiping wildly. Its movements were sluggish, uncoordinated—but still lethal.
Jae-Hyun barely managed to dodge, stumbling as his sword nearly slipped from his grasp.
Not yet. Die already.
The Tyrant staggered, its legs finally giving out beneath its own weight.
It let out a guttural, pained roar—then collapsed.
Jae-Hyun stood there, sword still raised, watching as the light slowly faded from its predatory eyes.
Only then did he let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Dust and debris erupted into the air as the Scourgeborn Tyrant fell, lifeless. Silence swallowed the battlefield.
Jae-Hyun exhaled, his body swaying, every muscle in his body screaming in protest. His hands trembled as he pulled his sword free, watching as the creature’s massive form began to disintegrate.
[Scourgeborn Tyrant] Defeated.
Time Taken: 36 Minutes.
His chest rose and fell in deep, ragged breaths.
Thirty-six minutes.
It had felt like a lifetime.
Jae-Hyun staggered back, panting.
For a brief moment, he just stood there, absorbing what had just happened. He had nearly died. If he had been just a little slower…He clenched his fists. This trial was only going to get harder
And then—the system delivered another message.
System Notification: The wave has been completed. You now have 4 hours and 24 minutes of free time before the next challenge begins.
Jae-Hyun blinked.
A smirk tugged at his lips—tired, but determined. If he got strong enough to clear these waves faster, he could use the remaining time however he wanted. If he survived long enough to do so.
But he knew one thing for sure—
There was no time to celebrate. Tomorrow’s waves would only be worse. This was only going to get harder.
He rolled his shoulders, feeling the weight of his exhaustion settle in. He still had four hours of rest, but deep down, he knew—
He wasn't going to sleep tonight.
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Sub-Quest: "Echoes of Endless Strife" Progress: 1,274/10,000 monsters defeated.
Jae-Hyun frowned. At this rate, there’s no way I’ll finish this in time.
It wasn’t just a minor issue. He was severely behind. Even if the monsters kept coming in waves, the difficulty would increase, and the longer he took, the more exhausted he’d be. The realization gnawed at him.
“System, what happens if I fail this sub-quest?” he asked aloud.
A brief pause, then the response appeared.
System Notification: Failure to complete the sub-quest results in no penalty. The quest reward will simply be forfeited.
No penalty. Only lost potential.
Jae-Hyun clenched his jaw. That was somehow worse.
If he had been given an actual punishment, he could at least prepare for it. But now? Now he had to wrestle with the thought that if he wasn’t fast enough, he’d miss something big—and he wouldn’t even know what it was.
“Tch.” He clicked his tongue. If I don’t pick up the pace, I might regret it later.
But first—rest.
He had just fought for an entire day, and his body was beginning to rebel against him. Resting for 3 to 4 hours seemed reasonable. Then, he could use the remaining time to explore, maybe even find a way to kill monsters faster.
He sat down, leaning against a jagged rock, and let out a slow breath. The wasteland was still eerily silent. Even after all the bloodshed, the world remained indifferent.
Jae-Hyun closed his eyes, trying to force himself into a light sleep.
But the moment he did—
A voice drifted into his thoughts.
“You’re bad at this.”
Jae-Hyun almost smirked.
His mind had dredged up an old memory. Ahri.
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The Tower’s lower floors had been a mess that day. Blood, dust, and shattered stone littered the battlefield. Ahri had taken a hit—not a deep one, but enough to slow her down. Despite her protests, Jae-Hyun had taken the lead, cutting through the last remaining monsters while she leaned against the cavern wall, inspecting the cut on her leg.
It wasn’t deep enough to be life-threatening, but blood still seeped from the wound, staining the fabric of her pants.
Jae-Hyun stepped closer, reaching into his inventory. He pulled out a potion and tossed it toward her.
“Here.”
Ahri caught it but didn’t open it. Instead, she rolled it between her fingers, eyeing the wound critically.
“It’s not that bad,” she muttered. “Not worth wasting a potion on.”
Jae-Hyun exhaled sharply, his patience thinning. “You’re literally bleeding.”
“And? I’ll live.”
He frowned, his gaze flickering to the crimson streaks against her skin. “You’re being stubborn.”
Ahri let out an amused scoff. “I don’t see you chugging potions every time you get cut.”
Jae-Hyun clicked his tongue but didn’t argue. Instead, he crouched beside her and grabbed a roll of bandages from a nearby corpse’s pouch. “Fine. Hold still.”
Ahri arched a brow. “You even know how to do this?”
Jae-Hyun shot her a dry look. “I’m not useless.”
She let him work, but the moment he wrapped the bandage around her leg—far too tight—her entire body tensed.
“Shit—” Ahri gritted her teeth. “What are you trying to do? Cut off my circulation?”
Jae-Hyun didn’t ease up. “It stops the bleeding.”
“It’s stopping my leg from working, dumbass.”
“Tch. You’re bad at this.”
Ahri snorted. “And you’re bad at not getting stabbed. Shut up.”
Jae-Hyun couldn’t help it—he chuckled. Even injured, she had an attitude.
With a sigh, he loosened the bandages just enough to be bearable. Ahri muttered something under her breath, but she didn’t stop him.
As he secured the final knot, she shifted her leg, testing it.
“…Not bad,” she admitted.
Jae-Hyun smirked, standing up. “Told you.”
Ahri rolled her eyes. “You’re still terrible at this.”
He didn’t miss the small smirk on her lips as she said it.
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Jae-Hyun’s eyes cracked open. The wasteland still stretched endlessly before him, barren and lifeless. But for a brief second—it didn’t feel as empty.
She looked worried.
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Not back then—but before he left.
He could still see the way Ahri’s gaze lingered, the way her fingers curled slightly when she told him to come back. She hadn’t explicitly said she was worried. She never would.
She didn’t have to.
Jae-Hyun’s fingers twitched slightly, his mind drifting. I wonder if she’s checking the time.
Maybe she wasn’t. Maybe she was fast asleep, unbothered. But deep down, he doubted it.
He exhaled, staring up at the sky. The stars didn’t exist here. Just an empty expanse, stretching infinitely, pressing down on him.
The Fracture had been desolate from the start. But now?
Now it felt lonelier than before.
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Jae-Hyun finally allowed himself to shut his eyes.
The exhaustion wasn’t just in his body—it was in his mind, his very bones. His limbs ached from overuse, his breathing had steadied but still carried the weight of fatigue. He had spent the entire day fighting, pushing past his limits, surviving wave after wave without any real time to recover.
Now, for the first time since stepping into this Fracture, he allowed himself to stop. To breathe.
The wasteland was still. The cracked earth beneath him carried no warmth, only the lingering chill of the wind that swept over the desolate land. Jae-Hyun exhaled deeply and let himself rest.
At some point, he slipped into unconsciousness.
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When his eyes fluttered open again, the first thing he saw was the sky. Still the same dull, empty expanse—no stars, no sun, just the endless gray void.
He shifted, sitting up with a groan. His body was stiff, muscles slightly sore from the stillness. He had slept longer than he intended—maybe three or four hours. His first real rest in this trial, and yet, it still felt incomplete.
Jae-Hyun checked the system timer.
[Time Remaining Until Next Wave: 20:36]
He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. It wasn’t ideal, but it was necessary. His body felt better than before—still sore, still tired, but no longer on the verge of collapse.
His stomach twisted slightly. He hadn’t eaten since arriving here, but hunger was secondary. He’d manage.
For now, there were other things to do.
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Jae-Hyun rose to his feet and scanned the surroundings. The landscape hadn’t changed, but it still felt… off.
The emptiness here wasn’t natural—it was designed to break him down. No resources, no shelter, nothing but the endless, cracked terrain. He couldn’t afford to sit still.
He started walking.
Exploring was a gamble. There was no guarantee he’d find anything useful, but standing in one place wouldn’t help either. He moved carefully, keeping his senses sharp as he searched the wasteland. No footprints. No structures. No life.
It was as if this place had been stripped bare, leaving only the most hostile conditions imaginable.
He scoured through loose rubble, checked behind jagged stone formations, but aside from the occasional piece of debris, there was nothing.
No hidden resources. No signs of past life. No potential escape routes.
After nearly fifteen minutes of searching, he stopped and sighed. This place was a tomb.
Nothing would come easy here. If he wanted to survive, he would have to make do with what he had.
Jae-Hyun checked the time again.
[Time Remaining: 05:04]
That was enough. He turned back toward his original resting spot, rolling his shoulders. Five minutes left.
Just as he was about to sit down and go over his inventory, the system suddenly buzzed in his mind.
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System Notification: Warning—[Redacted] has observed your progress.
Jae-Hyun’s eyes snapped open. What?
His pulse quickened as he immediately scanned his surroundings. The air suddenly felt heavier.
Another message appeared.
System Notification: Conditions have been met.
Then—
System Notification: Environmental Shift Pending.
Jae-Hyun’s fingers curled into fists. Something was changing.
His rest was over.
And the next wave wouldn’t be like the last.
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The moment the system notification appeared, Jae-Hyun felt it.
The wasteland wasn’t the same.
The cracked, dry ground that had once stretched endlessly began to shift beneath his feet. The air, once merely dry and lifeless, now carried an oppressive weight—a thick, cloying scent of decay that clung to his lungs.
A distant rumbling echoed across the terrain as the horizon shimmered unnaturally, the once-flat expanse now appearing distorted, as if the very land itself was unraveling. Jagged rock formations rose from the cracked earth like ancient bones surfacing from a forgotten grave. Pools of blackened sludge bubbled in random patches, releasing faint wisps of foul-smelling vapor into the air.
The sky had changed, too.
The dull gray expanse had deepened into a suffocating crimson haze, streaked with tendrils of pulsating black. The very atmosphere seemed hostile, a living thing reshaping itself, adapting against him.
Jae-Hyun exhaled sharply. This wasn’t just a difficulty increase. The battlefield itself had turned against him. His rest hadn’t been enough—not for what was coming next.
He took a slow step forward, scanning his surroundings. Something gnawed at him—a strange, uneasy feeling settling in his gut. Where were the monsters?
For the first time since entering this trial, he realized he hadn’t encountered any creatures for a while now. Not since he woke up.
That wasn’t normal.
He narrowed his eyes, tightening his grip on his sword. This place was never empty. The monsters had always come. Always.
Yet now, the wasteland was eerily silent. Too silent.
System Notification:
Environmental Shift Complete.
His jaw clenched.
No more stability. No more predictability. The trial had entered a new stage.
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The rest timer ticked down.
[00:05…]
Jae-Hyun rolled his shoulders, exhaling sharply. His body wasn’t fully recovered, but it had to be enough. It had to be.
[00:03…]
The wasteland around him remained eerily silent, the crimson haze swirling above like a bleeding sky. No movement. No signs of life.
And then—
[00:00]
The ground trembled.
From the jagged terrain ahead, movement erupted.
Jae-Hyun’s eyes narrowed as a wave of figures surged forward, spilling from the darkness like an unrelenting flood. Dozens. No—hundreds.
System Notification: Wave 6 Commencing.
Jae-Hyun gritted his teeth. Tch. That’s a lot more than yesterday.
At first glance, their levels weren’t much different from the previous day’s enemies. Their names hovered in familiar orange-yellow hues, marking them as stronger than him, but not absurdly so. Yet, it was the sheer number that stood out.
This wasn’t just an increase in difficulty.
This was an endurance test.
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Jae-Hyun gripped his sword, adjusting his stance as the monsters charged.
The first of them—a Pale Fang Brute—lunged forward, its jagged teeth gleaming. Jae-Hyun sidestepped, slashing upward in a clean motion. Blood sprayed as the brute collapsed, but before its body even hit the ground, another took its place.
Then another.
Then another.
The horde kept coming.
Jae-Hyun’s sword cut through the masses, his movements fluid but efficient. Every swing was controlled—no wasted energy, no unnecessary flourishes.
But for every monster he killed, two more stepped forward.
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Something was different.
Yesterday’s monsters had been relentless, but predictable. They charged without care, overwhelming with brute force rather than strategy.
Not these ones.
These monsters stalked him.
They didn’t charge recklessly—instead, they watched, circling, shifting.
A clawed beast feinted left, forcing Jae-Hyun’s dodge—only for another to ambush him from the right. He barely raised his sword in time, the impact jarring his wrist.
His mind raced. They’re adapting…
His grip tightened.
This wasn’t going to be as simple as yesterday.
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Minutes blurred into hours.
Jae-Hyun fought without pause. Wave after wave. Enemy after enemy.
At first, it had seemed manageable. He dodged, countered, cut down his foes efficiently. His movements were sharp, his breathing measured.
But the waves never slowed.
They kept coming.
What started as precision strikes turned into grueling endurance. His muscles burned, his stamina drained faster than expected. By the second wave of the day, he had already been forced to use one of his precious potions.
And he hated it.
He should be doing better.
He had to do better.
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By the time the fourth wave of the day arrived, Jae-Hyun could feel the exhaustion sinking into his bones.
The sheer number of monsters on this second day was relentless.
Even though they were manageable for him, their numbers made every wave feel harder than before.
His food rations had kept him going, but every bite felt like it wasn’t enough.
He had spent a ridiculous amount of system currency on items, and yet, it barely helped.
He realized just how much more exhausting this day had been compared to the first.
The battle wasn’t just physical, but mental—the constant awareness, the need to keep dodging, watching his mana, watching his stamina.
He’s never fought this long before, not without a break.
And worst of all—
The hardest wave hadn’t even come yet.
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Jae-Hyun stood still, his breaths heavy, his muscles burning from the relentless battles that had stretched across the entire day.
And yet—he wasn’t done.
The moment the timer hit zero, the air around him shifted.
It wasn’t like the previous waves, where monsters simply charged out of the distance in endless droves.
This was different.
The ground trembled.
A deep, unnatural hum reverberated through the wasteland, the sound vibrating in Jae-Hyun’s chest. The air itself distorted, twisting unnaturally, as if something massive was being pulled into existence.
And then—they appeared.
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At first, Jae-Hyun’s eyes locked onto the larger of the two figures.
A monstrous, towering entity stood ahead of him, its body stitched together like a malformed beast. Its arms were grotesquely long, its jagged claws twitching with an unnatural hunger. Black stitches crisscrossed its massive form, pulsing with a dark, sickly energy.
Jae-Hyun’s grip on his sword tightened. This thing is built like a walking disaster.
Then his gaze flickered toward the other figure.
The second presence wasn’t as imposing—but somehow, it was even more dangerous.
A human-sized figure stood beside the beast, cloaked in shadow, his hood pulled low, obscuring his features. Unlike the stitched abomination, this one didn’t move with mindless aggression.
Instead—he stood still. Watching. Studying. Waiting.
Then—
Tarnas, the Darkened has entered the battlefield.
Jae-Hyun’s stomach twisted.
A named enemy.
That wasn’t normal.
His mind instantly began calculating. This is a 2v2. A boss and a handler. That means I should—
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Jae-Hyun reached into his system interface without hesitation. He had two options—summon his entire undead army or bring forth Kaelzar.
The decision was clear.
This isn’t a horde fight.
He needed power—not numbers.
With a surge of mana, the shadows at his feet rippled. The air around him darkened as Kaelzar materialized beside him, his form rising like a specter from the abyss.
His armor gleamed under the dim, shifting crimson sky, his blade resting effortlessly in his grasp. His head tilted slightly, sensing the situation, his hollow gaze fixed on the monstrous enemy ahead.
He said nothing.
He never did.
But Jae-Hyun understood him perfectly.
A simple glance, a subtle shift in stance—Kaelzar was ready.
Jae-Hyun readied his sword, rolling his shoulders. Alright, one target each.
This was supposed to be a fair fight.
But he was wrong.
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The moment Jae-Hyun surged forward, his instincts screamed at him.
Something was wrong.
His eyes flickered toward Tarnas, expecting an immediate attack—but the cloaked figure barely moved.
Instead, he did something worse.
His lips curled into a knowing smirk.
Then—
The air cracked apart behind him.
Jae-Hyun barely had time to react before the ground tore open at Tarnas’s feet. A mass of writhing figures erupted from the void, spilling out like crawling nightmares.
Hundreds of twisted shapes emerged—ghastly figures, malformed beasts, skeletal warriors with rusted weapons.
Their names glowed a sickly orange.
Jae-Hyun’s blood ran cold.
It’s not a 2v2.
It’s a goddamn war.
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Jae-Hyun slashed creature after creature, his blade carving through its rotted flesh with ease. It crumbled into dust—but before he could catch his breath, two more took its place.
His eyes flicked toward Kaelzar.
The silent warrior was locked in combat as well, his blows blows shaking the battlefield with each impact. He couldn’t afford to help Jae-Hyun.
That meant—he was on his own.
The creatures swarmed him from every direction.
Jae-Hyun’s stamina was dropping.
His breath came in short, labored bursts. His swings grew slightly slower. He had been fighting all day, and now, the weight of exhaustion was catching up to him.
This is bad.
One of the creatures lunged for his exposed side—Jae-Hyun twisted, barely dodging in time. But another clawed at his back, leaving a burning gash across his shoulder.
His health dropped.
Warning: Health at 62%.
His mind was working overtime, but his body was starting to betray him.
The swarm kept coming. More than he could cut down.
For the first time, he felt his body starting to slow.
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Jae-Hyun checked the wave timer.
[02:52:31] remaining.
Almost three hours left.
His stomach twisted.
I can still run.
If I just survive until the timer runs out… I win the wave.
He took a shaky breath, his hands tightening around his sword.
The system never said he had to kill everything. He could just—hold out.
For a second, he entertained the idea.
Just running. Dodging. Avoiding.
His fingers brushed against the last mana potion strapped to his belt.
I could drink this and keep going… but is it worth it?
His hand shook.
Should he… just run?
For the first time since entering this hellscape, Jae-Hyun seriously considered giving up.
Not because he wanted to.
But because he didn’t know if he had enough left to win.
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Jae-Hyun gritted his teeth and forced himself to move.
His sword whipped through the nearest creature’s neck, buying him a few seconds of breathing room.
But it wasn’t enough. The horde was endless, closing in from every direction.
His mind raced.
I need space.
He pivoted sharply, kicking off the ground and dashing toward the nearest jagged rock formation. His muscles screamed in protest, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.
A few of the monsters chased after him, but their movements were sluggish compared to his. He vaulted over a crumbling ledge, twisting midair to cut down a lunging creature before landing roughly on the other side.
His lungs burned. His stamina bar was nearing the red.
He pressed his back against the rock, gripping his sword tightly.
For the first time in hours, he wasn’t being attacked.
His mind caught up with his body.
He exhaled sharply. Do I run?
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Jae-Hyun clenched his jaw, his body wavering, muscles screaming in protest.
And then—
A hand gripped his wrist.
Not an enemy’s.
Kaelzar.
The silent warrior didn’t say a word. His other hand snatched the mana potion from Jae-Hyun’s belt and shoved it into his palm.
A single, clear message:
Keep fighting.
Jae-Hyun’s eyes widened.
Even in the middle of his own battle, Kaelzar had noticed.
Noticed that Jae-Hyun was about to break.
Noticed that he was on the verge of giving in.
And Kaelzar wasn’t letting him.
The warrior didn’t look back as he turned away, returning to his own fight.
Jae-Hyun’s grip tightened around the potion.
His heartbeat steadied.
A long, slow breath escaped him.
And then—he drank.
The burning rush of mana flooded his veins, the weight on his limbs lifting slightly. His fingers felt stronger. His mind sharper.
His exhaustion wasn’t gone.
But it wasn’t enough to stop him anymore.
Jae-Hyun raised his sword.
Fine. If you won’t let me give up…
Then I’ll cut my way out of this.
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Jae-Hyun gritted his teeth, the renewed energy from the mana potion barely dulling the exhaustion that clung to his body like a suffocating weight.
He still had two hours left in the wave.
He wasn’t going to last that long like this.
The creatures were still pouring in, endless and unrelenting. Even with Kaelzar cutting them down, they just kept coming.
I can’t win this alone. Not like this.
Jae-Hyun clenched his fist. He had nearly given up. Not again. Not now. He exhaled sharply, gripping his sword. If he was going to survive this, he needed more than just himself. His gaze lifted, eyes burning with resolve. The fractured earth beneath him trembled as he reached into the abyss.
His fingers twitched as he reached into the depths of his system. He had been saving this option—trying to conserve as much as possible—but now wasn’t the time to be stubborn.
From the cracks in the corrupted wasteland, black mist erupted, tendrils of shadow stretching outward like writhing hands clawing their way into existence.
A horrific chorus of bone and metal grinding together filled the air as skeletal warriors tore free from the abyss.
Their armor was cracked, their weapons rusted—but their movements were precise, unwavering. An army born from death itself.
At the front of them all, Kaelzar stood tall.
The silent general didn’t speak, didn’t acknowledge Jae-Hyun’s command—but he moved, shifting into the center of the undead ranks, taking command as if he had always been meant to lead them.
The battlefield erupted.
Kaelzar’s darkened sword cut through the nearest creatures, his sheer presence alone empowering the horde to press forward.
Jae-Hyun took a shaky breath, gripping his sword.
This wasn’t just about surviving anymore.
This was about taking control of the battlefield.
And he wasn’t going to let this summoner dictate the fight any longer.
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With Kaelzar and the undead horde leading the charge, the tide of battle shifted.
The monstrous entity still fought, its massive frame swinging with reckless force, but Kaelzar met it head-on, his blade parrying the creature’s powerful blows.
Meanwhile, Jae-Hyun’s eyes locked onto Tarnas.
The summoner had taken a step back.
No. He wasn’t retreating. He was calculating.
Jae-Hyun moved.
With a burst of speed, he closed the distance, his sword slashing toward Tarnas’ cloaked figure—
But before his attack could land, Tarnas’ lips curled into a smirk.
A pulse of dark energy erupted from his body, a violent burst of magic that sent Jae-Hyun skidding backward.
System Warning: Unstable Mana Surge Detected.
Jae-Hyun barely caught himself. His arms tensed as he watched the summoner raise his hand again.
Another summoning?
No.
This was different.
Tarnas was trying to escape.
His figure began to flicker, shadows coiling around him as if to swallow him whole.
Jae-Hyun wouldn’t let him.
He pushed forward.
A skeletal warrior lunged toward Tarnas, but the summoner snapped his fingers—and the undead crumbled to dust instantly.
He was powerful. Too powerful to let escape.
Jae-Hyun gritted his teeth and dashed forward.
The summoner was just moments away from disappearing.
But then—
A shadow loomed behind Jae-Hyun.
Kaelzar.
The silent general had seen it too.
With one swift movement, Kaelzar’s blade cut through the swirling darkness surrounding Tarnas.
The summoner’s eyes widened in realization.
Jae-Hyun didn’t hesitate.
His sword pierced through Tarnas’ chest.
The summoner let out a sharp gasp, blood spilling from his lips. His body convulsed violently, his magic faltering.
For a brief moment, his gaze locked onto Jae-Hyun.
Not with fear.
Not with anger.
But with a strange, knowing amusement.
And then—his body collapsed, dissolving into nothingness.
Tarnas, the Darkened – Defeated.
Jae-Hyun exhaled, his sword dripping with black ichor.
It was over.
And as if responding to its master’s demise, the remaining summoned creatures faltered.
Their forms began to wither, their bodies collapsing in on themselves.
The monstrous entity staggered, its overwhelming presence fading.
It had no will of its own.
Without its summoner, it was just a mindless beast.
Kaelzar moved first—a single, decisive strike, and the creature fell.
Silence.
----------------------------------------
The battlefield was still.
Jae-Hyun’s breath came in slow, deep gulps. His hands still trembled slightly, the sheer exhaustion pressing down on him like a lead weight.
But he was still standing.
He glanced toward Kaelzar.
The silent warrior stood motionless, his dark armor still gleaming under the twisted, crimson sky.
Something had changed.
Jae-Hyun had fought alongside many—his undead horde, fleeting allies in the past—but Kaelzar was different.
This wasn’t just a summon.
Kaelzar had saved him.
Jae-Hyun clenched his fists.
He had almost given up.
Almost run away.
But Kaelzar hadn’t let him.
Jae-Hyun exhaled, shoulders sagging. His fingers trembled against his blade, but he stayed standing. Kaelzar stepped forward, his crimson aura flickering, before silently turning toward him.
For the first time, Jae-Hyun felt something other than obligation toward his shadow summon.
It wasn’t just about using Kaelzar’s strength.
It was about trust. Not a summon. Not a shadow.
A comrade.
Jae-Hyun looked ahead.
Tomorrow would be worse.
If today had been this brutal—what was coming next?
Jae-Hyun exhaled, his grip tightening on his sword.
There was no time to celebrate.
There was no time to hesitate.
He turned toward Kaelzar, giving the silent warrior a single, firm nod.
Kaelzar didn’t respond, but he understood.
Jae-Hyun was ready.
The next day awaited.