Jeremy hurried through the corridors, his spear slung over one shoulder. He’d spent all morning double-checking his gear and thinking through his plan. The teleporter room was just up ahead, and with it, the chance to prove he could handle something big.
The room was huge, with shiny stone floors reflecting the soft glow from the teleportation platforms. The air buzzed with energy, faint swirls of light floating over the platforms. At a desk near the biggest one, an attendant sat, scrolling through a glowing crystal tablet. She glanced up as Jeremy got closer, her bored expression turning curious.
“Morning,” Jeremy said with a small nod.
“Good morning,” she replied, giving a wave. Her eyes flicked to his armor and spear. “Going somewhere?”
“Yup,” Jeremy said. “I’m heading to a Tier 2 dungeon.”
The attendant’s eyebrows shot up. “Tier 2? Are you serious? Freshmen usually stick to Tierless dungeons—or maybe Tier 1s if they’re feeling brave. And even then, they go in groups.”
Jeremy grinned, but not too much. “I’m serious. And I want one with physical attackers.”
Her frown deepened. “A Tier 2 dungeon isn’t a joke. The monsters hit hard and don’t stop. Even second or third years don’t go alone unless they’re sure they can handle it.”
“I know,” Jeremy said, his voice steady. “But my armor reflects hits back, and my spear’s got range. I’ve thought this through.”
The attendant leaned forward, looking at him like she wasn’t sure if he was confident or just crazy. “Confidence is good, but overconfidence, especially in a Tier 2 dungeon? That can get you killed. Those monsters don’t give second chances.”
Jeremy nodded. “I get it. Thanks for the warning, but I’ve got this.”
She hesitated, still looking unsure. “Alright,” she said. “But let me make this clear—these dungeons aren’t for testing your limits. They’re dangerous. The academy won’t send medics if you get in over your head. Freshmen aren’t expected to handle Tier 2s.”
Jeremy’s grin widened, but his fingers tightened slightly around his spear. “I’m a Hoppins,” he said, hoping his tone sounded confident and not like he was trying too hard. “I know the risks. I’ve got this.”
The attendant sighed, her fingers tapping on the tablet. “Alright. Physical-type Tier 2 dungeon. Platform three. Be careful, kid. This isn’t just about stats. The monsters in there can overwhelm even the best fighters.”
Jeremy approached the platform, the hum of energy growing louder. Before he stepped on, he turned back to the attendant, his tone polite. “Thanks for looking out for me. I’ll be careful.”
She nodded, her worry clear on her face. “Good luck out there.”
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The teleporter hummed softly as Jeremy stepped through, the light twisting and warping everything around him. When it faded, he found himself standing in a dark, stone corridor. The air was damp and still, and the silence was disturbed only by faint footsteps echoing through the dungeon. It was eerie, and his pulse quickened.
For a bit, he hesitated. The darkness looked bigger than he’d imagined. He wondered if he’d made a mistake. But he forced himself to take a deep breath. “No,” he said, his voice loud and firm. “I’ve got this.”
He could already picture it: some giant monster charging at him, only to get its own power reflected right back into its ugly face. One clean double hit, and it’d be game over. Easy. Too easy.
Jeremy pressed forward, his boots crunching against the uneven stone floor, his footsteps echoing faintly. The narrow corridor widened into a huge chamber, with jagged rocks jutting out floor and walls like broken teeth. Movement caught the corner of his eye—just a flicker in the shadows. His head snapped towards it. A pair of glowing red eyes stared back at him. Then another. And another.
From the darkness stepped three massive, orc-like creatures. Their green skin stretched tight over their bulging muscles, and they carried crude weapons—spiked clubs, jagged maces, and massive axes. Each of them was at least twice his height and looked like they’d enjoy smashing him into the ground.
“Orcs?” Jeremy muttered, his grin returning. “Really? This’ll be fun.”
One of the orcs snarled and charged, raising its club high above its head. Jeremy didn’t flinch. He planted his feet, holding his spear steady as the creature lunged. The club slammed into him with a force that shook the ground, but his armor did its thing, reflecting the blow right back at the orc. The creature stumbled, roaring in pain.
“Ha!” Jeremy lunged forward, thrusting his spear into the orc’s chest. His spear struck twice in quick succession, piercing the thick skin. The orc fell with a loud thud, its body twitching as Essence flowed toward Jeremy’s Status.
“Guess that’s one down! Who’s next?” he called, trying to sound cocky even as sweat dripped down his face.
The two remaining orcs weren’t going to wait around. One swung its axe in a wild arc, forcing Jeremy to dodge. The other closed in from the side, its mace smashing down onto his shoulder. The impact sent him stumbling, while the orc staggered but didn’t drop its weapon.
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His shoulder throbbed from the leftover force. Fighting two at once wasn’t the same as handling them one by one. He couldn’t focus on taking one down while the other kept hammering away at him. This was harder than he’d planned.
“Alright, regroup,” he muttered, gripping his spear with sweaty hands. He backed up, scanning the room for an opening. The orcs didn’t let up, their heavy footsteps echoing as they closed in, their snarls filling the chamber.
Jeremy darted to the side, Running to put some distance between him and the orcs. He jabbed his spear at the closer one, landing a solid double-hit, but it moved faster than he thought. Its club slammed into his chest, and while his armor sent some of the force back at it, the impact sent him skidding across the floor. His chest felt like it was on fire from the pain.
“Come on!” he shouted, scrambling to his feet. He swung his spear in quick strikes, pushing the orcs away. His armor absorbed part of their attacks, reflecting their power right back at them, but it was starting to wear on him. Still, adrenaline kept him going strong.
One of the orcs let out a loud roar and pretended to swing its axe, trying to fake him out. At the same time, the other one came in from the side. Jeremy whipped around just in time, his Reflexes helping him to dodge the mace aimed at his head. He countered with a quick strike, his spear and armor’s reflection working together to send the orc staggering back.
As the fight dragged on, his muscles burned. His breathing got heavier, but he kept going, dodging and striking like he’d practiced a million times. When one of the orcs rushed at him, he sidestepped and drove his spear straight into its side. His armor retaliated again, and the reflected force sent the creature crashing to the ground.
The last orc snarled, glaring at him as its companion fell. It raised its mace high and charged at full speed. Jeremy stood his ground, bracing himself for the impact. When it got close enough, he thrust his spear right into its chest, staggering it hard. But the orc wasn’t done. It swung its weapon wildly, making Jeremy duck and dodge to avoid getting smashed.
By now, Jeremy’s breath was coming faster. He hadn’t felt tired earlier, but after all the dodging and stabbing, he was starting to feel it. Still, he wasn’t going to quit.
“Not yet,” he muttered, his voice full of determination. The orc came at him one last time, and Jeremy gathered all his strength for a final attack. He drove his spear deep into the orc’s chest, the blow combined with his armor’s reflection sending it flying backward. It hit the ground hard, motionless.
The chamber went quiet. Jeremy stood there, breathing heavily, his spear dripping with black blood. He looked down at his hands—they were shaking. Blood from a shallow cut on his arm stung now that the fight was over, and his fingers felt stiff, like they didn’t even want to work.
“That... was way harder than I thought,” he muttered under his breath. The words sounded weak, and he hated himself for saying them. His chest still burned, and he leaned against his spear to steady himself.
He tilted his head back, closing his eyes for a second. The glow of Essence drifted toward him, filling his Status. Usually, that rush of energy felt amazing, like lighting up from the inside. But now? It barely made a dent in how exhausted he was.
“What the heck just happened?” Jeremy thought, replaying the fight in his head. The way the orcs had swarmed him, their heavy weapons swinging faster than something that big had any right to—it didn’t make sense. Sure, his armor’s reflection had done its job, but the hits just kept coming. He hadn’t been ready for that.
“That was just the first fight,” he whispered, the words hitting harder than he expected. His plans had seemed perfect, but this fight had been a wake-up call. If this was how the first battle went, the rest of the dungeon was going to be brutal.
For the first time since stepping into the dungeon, Jeremy felt a tiny flicker of doubt. What if he wasn’t ready for this? The thought hit him harder than any of those stupid orc clubs. He shook his head, trying to shove it away, but it just wouldn’t leave.
“I’ve got this,” he muttered, like saying it out loud would make it true. He straightened up, wincing when his ribs protested. “Okay, lesson learned: don’t let them gang up on me. Easy fix.”
Still, his mind kept jumping back to the fight. The orcs hadn’t just charged at him like idiots—they’d worked together, boxing him in like they had some kind of plan. His throat felt dry just thinking about it. “I wasn’t ready for that,” he admitted to himself, his hands tightening on his spear.
“Stats don’t mean anything if I can’t fight,” a nagging little voice whispered in the back of his mind. He clenched his fists and shoved the thought down as hard as he could. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m fine. I’ve got this.” He pushed himself to his feet, wobbling a bit before steadying himself.
There was no turning back now. If this first fight had been this tough, the rest of the dungeon was going to be even worse. He wiped sweat off his brow and took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus.
Allocate 3000 Essence
His eyes widened as he stared at the number. “From one fight?” A grin broke across his face, cutting through the exhaustion. “That’s insane!”
He thought back to the afternoon spent chasing slimes with his friends in the beginner dungeon, laughing when someone slipped or missed a kick. They’d celebrated getting a few hundred Essence like it was a big deal. Compared to that, this fight felt...lonely. Jeremy blinked, shoving the thought away. "This is better," he muttered, his voice more defensive than confident. But was it? The empty chamber seemed colder now, the silence heavier without anyone to share it with. He shook the thought away. “Doesn’t matter,” he mumbled. “I’m doing this my way.”
Scrolling through his Skills, his eyes landed on Running. He could spread the Essence out across his Skills, but honestly? Why bother? At this rate, he could max them all, so might as well do it one at a time.
“Alright, Running it is,” he said, dumping all his Essence into the Skill.
Running - Basic
Level 8/10 - 500 Essence
Body 8
“Almost there,” he muttered, satisfied as he glanced at the Skill. Running was so close to being maxed, but for now, he was out of Essence. He closed his Status and stretched his legs.
The corridor ahead stretched ominously into darkness. His pulse quickened, both excitement and unease in his chest. “This dungeon’s tough,” he whispered, trying to convince himself, “but I can do this.” He took a shaky breath, the memory of those red eyes flashing in his mind. He didn’t need to be perfect—just good enough to win.