Ciel arrived at their usual meeting spot first, a small plaza near the fountain where merchant streets gave way to residential districts. The location had become theirs through weeks of consistent use—far enough from the Dungeon Hall's crowds to talk freely, close enough to reach quickly when needed.
Veldora appeared next, his new shield strapped across his back, the metal catching sunlight in ways that suggested quality enchantments at work. He moved with the particular confidence that came from knowing exactly what he was capable of—not arrogance, but certainty earned through repeated success.
"Early as always," Veldora observed, dropping onto the stone bench beside the fountain.
Sora arrived moments later, her new staff gleaming with barely contained chaos energy, the Twilight Robes she'd purchased moving around her like liquid shadow. She looked different from the girl who'd first awakened as a Chaos Mage—steadier, more controlled, carrying power that no longer threatened to consume her.
"So," she said without preamble, settling beside Veldora. "We need to talk about what happens next."
The words hung in the air between them, carrying weight that none of them could ignore. They'd reached a threshold—not just in power, but in the fundamental structure of how they could operate together.
"The System restrictions," Ciel said quietly, confirming what they'd all been thinking.
Veldora nodded slowly. "I looked into it last night. Checked with guild administrators, read through the official documentation." His expression turned serious. "Once you complete Second Awakening, we can't officially party anymore. Not until you catch up to our stage."
"Because the System doesn't allow it," Sora added, her tone carrying frustration with rules she couldn't change. "You cannot party with those of different stage than you this prevents many things like higher stage awakeners carrying lower stage ones and other stuff."
Ciel had known this was coming—had researched the mechanics extensively after learning about Awakening structures. But knowing intellectually and facing the practical reality were different things.
"There are exceptions," he noted. "Commander-type classes can bind awakeners of different stages into unified structures. And certain legendary talents override stage restrictions for specific scenarios."
"Neither of which we have," Veldora said bluntly. "I'm a Knight, Sora's a Chaos Mage, you're a Realm Holder. None of those classifications come with inherent party-bridging capabilities."
The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable—just weighted with the recognition that their progression had reached a point where they needed to adapt or be held back by System mechanics they couldn't control.
"So what's the plan?" Sora asked, her tone shifting from concern to problem-solving. "We can't just stop working together. Everything we've built requires coordination."
"We don't stop," Ciel replied, his analytical mind already structuring possibilities. "We adjust. For the next four weeks, you and Veldora run normal-difficulty dungeons. Build experience, maintain coordination, keep developing the teamwork that's made us effective."
"And you?" Veldora asked, though his expression suggested he already knew the answer.
"I focus on catching up," Ciel said simply. Then, because they deserved complete honesty: "And I have something that makes that timeline more concrete than it might otherwise be."
He told them about Aastha's contract. Four dungeons at the absolute peak of Tier 1 difficulty, all locked to First Stage awakeners due to System restrictions. The outbreak timers counting down, the generous compensation, the dungeon ownership that would transfer upon successful completion.
"Wait," Sora interrupted, her eyes widening. "You're saying these dungeons literally can't be accessed by anyone who's completed Second Awakening? The System physically prevents entry?"
"Correct," Ciel confirmed. "Level restrictions are absolute. Once you cross the threshold into Second Stage, dungeons designed for levels one through ten read you as incompatible and won't allow entry—the portal simply won't activate."
"Which creates a gap," Veldora said, understanding dawning. "Strong First Stage awakeners complete their Second Awakening and can no longer access low-tier dungeons. New awakeners aren't powerful enough yet to handle peak difficulty. So these four dungeons sit there, getting more unstable by the day, with nobody able to clear them."
"Until someone like me comes along," Ciel finished. "Still First Stage, but capable enough to attempt dungeons that exceeds normal progression expectations."
Sora leaned back, processing the implications. "How long do you have?"
"The first dungeon reaches critical outbreak status in nine days. The last one has forty-one days remaining." He met their gazes directly. "I plan to clear all four within that four weeks then immediately attempt my own Second Awakening."
"That's ambitious," Veldora observed. "Even for you."
"It's necessary," Ciel countered. "Each day those dungeons remain uncleared brings them closer to outbreak—which means lost rewards, wasted resources, and containment operations that could be avoided with proper action. And more practically, the compensation will secure our financial position for months while establishing credentials that matter for Academy placement."
He pulled out the contract documents Aastha had provided, spreading them across the stone bench. "Twenty-five thousand mana stones per successful clear, plus all System-standard rewards. And upon completing at least three of the four, ownership to one Tier 1 dungeon core transfer to me permanently."
The numbers drew silence—that kind of wealth represented months of grinding for most awakeners, delivered through a single negotiated contract.
"And you're doing this solo," Sora said quietly, not quite a question.
"I have to," Ciel replied. "The System restrictions mean you can't enter even if you wanted to. These are purely First Stage dungeons, and that's exactly what makes it valuable to clear now rather than waiting."
Veldora stood, moving to the fountain's edge where he could look out across the city. "So for four weeks, we're essentially operating separately. You handle your contract dungeons, we grind normal dungeons, and we all race toward the same goal from different directions."
"That's the tactical reality," Ciel confirmed. "But it's not permanent separation. The moment I complete Second Awakening, we can re-establish party coordination at the new tier level. Everything we've built—our strategies, our synchronization, our understanding of each other's capabilities—all of that remains valid. We're just temporarily working parallel tracks instead of together."
"How long?" Sora asked. "Realistically, when do you think you'll reach Second Stage?"
Ciel considered the question carefully, running calculations based on his current level, his realm's advantages, and the experience he'd gain from four high-difficulty dungeon clears. "If everything proceeds optimally? I should be ready to attempt my Second Awakening within three weeks. Four at the absolute outside."
"And you'll aim for high-difficulty completion," Veldora said, not bothering to frame it as a question. "Because of course you will."
"Five or six stars, yes," Ciel confirmed. "Anything less would be a waste of preparation time, and I'll need the stat benefits that come with General-tier classification if we're going to tackle Academy exams together."
The admission carried weight—not arrogance, but simple acknowledgment that he held himself to the same standards he'd helped them achieve. They'd both completed high-difficulty awakenings. He wouldn't accept less for himself.
"Then that's the plan," Veldora said, turning back from the fountain. "You solo your contract dungeons, push for Second Awakening as fast as safely possible. Sora and I maintain our coordination through regular runs, keep our skills sharp, build up resources and experience."
"And in three to four weeks," Sora added, "we reunite at Second Stage and hit the ground running."
"Exactly," Ciel confirmed.
They stood in comfortable silence for several moments, each processing what this temporary separation meant. They'd fought together since their first awkward dungeon attempts, built coordination that made difficult dungeons manageable, saved each other's lives more times than any of them had counted.
But growth required adaptation. And sometimes that meant acknowledging when staying together would hold everyone back more than splitting up would.
"One thing," Veldora said, his tone carrying the particular quality that meant he was about to say something important. "When you're in those dungeons—alone, facing threats designed for full parties—don't let confidence become recklessness. You're good, Ciel. Exceptional, even. But even exceptional awakeners die when they overextend."
"I'll be careful," Ciel assured him. "I have no intention of dying before the Academy exams. That would be poor planning."
The dry delivery made Sora laugh despite the seriousness of the conversation. "Only you would describe dying as a tactical error rather than a tragedy."
"It would be both," Ciel replied reasonably. "But the tactical error would be the part I could have prevented through better decision-making."
By the time the conversation wound down naturally, the sun had climbed significantly higher, painting the plaza in harsh midday light. People moved through the streets in greater numbers now—merchants fully set up, awakeners heading out for afternoon dungeon runs, the normal rhythms of Amber City continuing regardless of their particular concerns.
"I should head to the guild headquarters," Ciel said finally, rising from his seat. "Aastha mentioned she'd have detailed briefings ready—dungeon layouts, monster compositions, tactical recommendations based on previous attempts that failed."
"And we should get to the Hall," Sora replied, standing as well. "Start figuring out which normal-difficulty dungeons will give us the best experience-to-time ratios."
Veldora stretched, his armor creaking slightly with the movement. "Probably the Rotwood Grove. I've heard it's well-balanced for Second Stage parties—challenging enough to matter, but not so brutal that mistakes become lethal."
They moved toward the plaza's exit together, but at the fountain's edge where their paths would naturally diverge, they paused.
"Three weeks," Veldora said, extending his hand toward Ciel. "Four at most. Then we're back to normal."
Ciel shook the offered hand firmly. "Three weeks," he confirmed.
Sora stepped forward, surprising them both with a brief hug that carried genuine concern despite her usual preference for maintaining personal space. "Don't die in those dungeons. I'd be very annoyed if I had to find a new party leader."
"I'll keep that in mind," Ciel replied, his tone lighter than usual. "Your annoyance would indeed be inconvenient."
Then they separated—Veldora and Sora heading toward the Dungeon Hall's distant spires, Ciel turning toward the area where the Dawn Guild headquarters dominated the skyline. Three paths diverging from a single point, each carrying toward the same ultimate destination through different routes.
Ciel walked through the merchant districts with his usual measured pace, his mind already shifting from emotional goodbyes to tactical preparation. The streets were crowded now, forcing him to navigate around clusters of people examining goods, awakeners discussing dungeon strategies, children running between stalls with the particular energy that never quite left cities no matter how structured they became.
The Dawn Guild headquarters grew larger as he approached—its steel and mana-glass construction catching sunlight in ways that made the building seem to glow from within. Guards at the entrance recognized him from his previous visit, waving him through without the usual identity verification that slowed most people.
Inside, the lobby was busier than it had been during his late-night meeting with Aastha. Awakeners lined up at various counters, processing contracts and mission reports. The ambient mana concentration was noticeably higher here than in the streets outside—a byproduct of so many powerful items and people gathered in one place.
A guild administrator approached him almost immediately, clearly having been waiting for his arrival. "Ciel Nova? The Guild Master arranged for strategic briefings in Conference Room Seven. This way, please."
Ciel followed through corridors he was beginning to recognize, past offices where guild officers coordinated operations across multiple districts. The administrative wing had its own particular atmosphere—quieter than the lobby, more focused, carrying the weight of decisions that shaped how resources flowed through the entire organization.
Conference Room Seven was smaller than Aastha's office but no less well-appointed. Four tactical displays dominated the walls, each showing a different dungeon layout in suspended holographic projection. A senior tactician stood reviewing one of the displays, her Dawn Guild uniform bearing insignia that suggested significant field experience.
She turned as Ciel entered, offering a professional nod. "Ciel Nova. I'm Senior Tactician Reeves. The Guild Master instructed me to provide comprehensive briefings on all four contract dungeons."
"Thank you," Ciel said, moving closer to examine the displays. Each one showed detailed topographical data—terrain features, known monster spawning locations, previously recorded patrol patterns.
Reeves gestured toward the first display, which shifted to highlight specific sections as she spoke. "We'll begin with the Goblin Nest, as it has the shortest timeline until outbreak."
The holographic projection showed a subterranean tunnel complex, multiple levels interconnected through narrow passages and larger chambers. The depth indicators suggested it extended roughly fifty meters below surface level, with ventilation shafts providing limited natural light in specific areas.
[Dungeon: Goblin Nest]
Classification: Tier 1 (Levels 1-10)
Difficulty: Peak
Outbreak Timeline: 9 Days
Environment: Subterranean, low visibility, variable mana density
"The Nest has been active for approximately four months," Reeves explained, her tone carrying the clinical precision of someone who'd analyzed this data extensively. "Standard goblin dungeons typically stabilize at mid-Tier 1 difficulty, but this one has continued evolving beyond normal parameters."
She manipulated the display, zooming in on specific chambers. "You'll face three primary enemy types. Goblin Scouts—fast, coordinated, excellent at using terrain advantages. They typically operate in groups of five to seven and employ hit-and-run tactics."
Red markers appeared throughout the tunnels, indicating probable scout locations.
"Goblin Shamans—spellcasters with basic elemental control. Fire bolts primarily, occasional earth manipulation for creating obstacles. They position themselves behind warrior screens and require prioritization to prevent sustained spell pressure."
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Yellow markers clustered in the larger chambers.
"And explosive variants—goblins that have consumed concentrated mana until their bodies became unstable. They'll charge at threats and detonate when killed or when they reach proximity to targets. Extremely dangerous in confined spaces."
Orange markers scattered seemingly at random through the complex.
"The boss?" Ciel asked, studying the deepest chamber where the tunnel system terminated.
"Evolved Hobgoblin Fighter," Reeves replied, pulling up a separate data panel. "Approximately two-point-three meters tall, heavily muscled, wielding what appears to be a scavenged longsword that's been reinforced with crude enchantments. Intelligence significantly above standard goblin variants—capable of tactical thinking, weapon technique that suggests genuine martial training rather than instinct."
The hologram shifted to show a rough sketch based on remote observation spells that had managed brief glimpses before the boss destroyed the surveillance magic. The creature looked brutal—scarred green skin over dense muscle, eyes that carried genuine calculation rather than animalistic rage.
"Previous attempts?" Ciel asked.
Reeves' expression tightened slightly. "Three parties attempted this dungeon before it exceeded safe First Stage parameters. All three withdrew with significant injuries before reaching the boss chamber. The environmental factors—low visibility, confined spaces, explosive enemies in narrow corridors—make traditional party tactics extremely difficult to execute safely."
She pulled up damage reports, medical assessments, tactical analyses from the failed attempts. Ciel read through them quickly, his analytical mind extracting patterns from the data.
"They all tried to push through with standard formations," he observed. "Shield front, damage dealers behind, methodical room-by-room clearing."
"Correct," Reeves confirmed. "Which works adequately against the scouts and shamans, but the explosive variants forced constant repositioning. And in confined tunnels, repositioning becomes retreat under pressure—which allowed the regular goblins to harry them continuously until resources depleted enough that withdrawal became necessary."
Ciel studied the layout more carefully, already formulating approaches that might work where standard tactics had failed. The tunnel system had multiple interconnected passages—which created problems for traditional parties, but also opportunities for someone with spatial manipulation capabilities.
"Estimated clear time?" he asked.
"For a full party attempting perfect execution?" Reeves considered. "Two to three hours minimum. The sheer volume of enemies requires sustained combat, and the environmental hazards prevent rushing."
"And for solo attempts?"
She hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the question. "Solo attempts haven't been seriously considered because the tactical disadvantages compound too severely. You'd face focused aggro from all enemies simultaneously, no one to cover your flanks while dealing with priority targets, and resource depletion would hit critical levels before reaching the boss."
"Understood," Ciel said, committing the dungeon's layout to memory. The challenge was obvious—but not impossible. His realm could solve several of the problems that had stopped previous parties, and his enhanced stats from King of Realm would provide combat capabilities that most First Stage awakeners simply didn't possess.
Reeves moved to the second display, which showed a very different environment. "The Boneyard."
This dungeon sprawled across what looked like an ancient cemetery, the holographic projection showing rows of weathered tombstones, crumbling mausoleums, and a central cathedral structure that had partially collapsed centuries ago.
[Dungeon: Boneyard]
Classification: Tier 1 (Levels 1-10)
Difficulty: Peak
Outbreak Timeline: 17 Days
Environment: Heavy death mana saturation, visibility reduction, undead-type advantages
"Similar conceptually to the Graveyard of the Headless Knight that you've already cleared," Reeves noted, "but with different tactical challenges. The death mana concentration is even higher here, creating constant pressure on living awakeners' mana circulation."
The display highlighted various sections of the cemetery. "Primary enemy types include animated skeletons—basic warriors with sword and shield, moderate coordination. Spectral husks—partially corporeal undead that phase between solid and ethereal states, making them difficult to damage with conventional attacks. And skeletal archers positioned throughout elevated structures."
"The boss?"
"Giant Skeleton," Reeves said, pulling up visual data. "A construct formed from multiple corpses rather than a single reanimated body. Approximately four meters tall when fully assembled, wielding a massive greatsword forged from condensed bone. Slower than most boss-tier threats, but devastating when strikes connect. High durability due to its composite nature—destroying one section doesn't disable the whole creature."
The hologram showed the boss in various states of damage, illustrating how it could continue fighting even with significant portions destroyed.
"The cathedral is the primary tactical concern," Reeves continued. "The boss occupies the central nave, but the entire structure is unstable. Excessive force or area-effect abilities can trigger partial collapses, which create both obstacles and hazards."
"Environmental advantages for death-aligned enemies?" Ciel asked.
"Significant," Reeves confirmed. "The death mana saturation provides passive regeneration to all undead-type monsters. Not fast enough to overcome sustained damage, but enough that you can't rely on attrition tactics. Fights need to be decisive rather than drawn out."
Ciel nodded, already comparing this dungeon's structure to the Graveyard he'd cleared multiple times. The similarities would help—he understood how to fight in death mana environments, how to manage the constant drain on living beings' resources. But the differences mattered too, particularly the spectral enemies that could phase between states.
The third display activated, showing something completely different. "Murlock Lake."
This was an aquatic dungeon—a flooded cavern system where water levels varied between knee-deep and completely submerged. The holographic projection showed a complex three-dimensional structure, with underwater passages connecting surface chambers in ways that created tactical complications.
[Dungeon: Murlock Lake]
Classification: Tier 1 (Levels 1-10)
Difficulty: Peak
Outbreak Timeline: 28 Days
Environment: Aquatic, variable depth, limited vision underwater, enhanced murlock capabilities
"This one's unusual for landlocked territory," Reeves explained. "The cave system connects to deep aquifers that weren't properly sealed during the dungeon's initial formation. Over time, a full ecosystem developed—which means the murlocks here are better adapted than typical dungeon spawns."
The display showed various murlock variants. "Warriors equipped with coral spears and shell shields—effective combatants both in and out of water. Shamans with water manipulation abilities that let them control currents and create temporary barriers. Archers using bone harpoons that function underwater as effectively as arrows do in air."
"The boss—Tribal Chief Murlock—is the primary threat," Reeves continued. "Armed with an enchanted coral spear that carries paralytic toxins. High intelligence for a murlock, capable of coordinating subordinates and adapting tactics mid-combat. And most problematically, near-water regeneration that makes killing it outside aquatic environments significantly easier."
The hologram showed the boss chamber—a large flooded cavern with a central island where the chief typically positioned itself. Multiple water passages provided escape routes if the fight turned against it.
"Previous attempts found the variable environment extremely disruptive," Reeves noted. "Combat effectiveness drops sharply when fighting partially submerged, and the murlocks have no such disadvantage. Visibility underwater is poor enough that ambushes become constant threats."
"Equipment requirements?" Ciel asked.
"Water-breathing enchantments at minimum," Reeves replied. "Movement enhancement would help significantly—swimming in combat gear reduces mobility to dangerous levels without magical support. And some method of fighting effectively while submerged, since avoiding water entirely isn't realistic given the dungeon's structure."
Ciel committed the tactical challenges to memory, already considering how his abilities might address them. Realm Shift would work underwater if he could maintain concentration despite the environment's interference. And his enhanced stats would partially compensate for the mobility penalties that made aquatic combat so dangerous.
The fourth display activated, and Reeves' expression grew noticeably more serious. "The Spider's Lair."
The holographic projection showed a nightmare of overlapping webs, narrow passages, and chambers whose dimensions seemed to shift as ambient mana currents moved through them. The entire structure looked organic rather than geological—less like a natural cave system and more like something living that had grown according to alien logic.
[Dungeon: Spider's Lair]
Classification: Tier 1 (Levels 1-10)
Difficulty: Peak
Outbreak Timeline: 41 Days
Environment: Web forest, high humidity, obscured visibility, unpredictable terrain shifts
"This is the most dangerous of the four," Reeves said bluntly. "Not necessarily because the individual enemies are stronger—though they're certainly threatening—but because the environment itself actively works against intruders."
She manipulated the display, highlighting various features. "The web structures aren't just obstacles. They're part of the dungeon's sensory network. Any contact triggers alerts that draw nearby spiders to investigate. The webs also channel mana in ways that disrupt most awakeners' perception abilities—what you see isn't always what's actually there."
Red markers appeared throughout the projection, indicating known spider spawning points. But there were far more question marks than confirmed locations.
"Primary enemy types include venom spiders—fast, coordinated hunters that strike from unexpected angles. Broodlings—smaller variants that attack in swarms, individually weak but overwhelming in numbers. And web-casters—specialist spiders that can create new web structures mid-combat, cutting off retreat routes or separating party members."
"The boss?"
"Brood Mother," Reeves said, her tone carrying particular gravity. "Stationary—she remains in the central chamber and doesn't pursue. But she doesn't need to. Her combat strategy revolves around mass summoning. She can spawn dozens of broodlings continuously throughout the fight, creating escalating pressure that eventually overwhelms anyone who can't kill her fast enough."
The hologram showed a massive spider easily five meters across, its body swollen with eggs, mandibles that dripped with concentrated venom.
"Time limits?" Ciel asked.
"Estimated three minutes before broodling numbers become unmanageable for most parties," Reeves replied. "Five minutes absolute maximum before even exceptional awakeners face numbers that can't be overcome through skill alone. The fight becomes a race—kill her before her reinforcements make victory impossible."
"And the web structure complicates approach," Ciel observed, studying the projection. "Getting to the boss chamber requires navigating through territories where every step potentially triggers alerts."
"Correct," Reeves confirmed. "Previous attempt records suggest that parties typically arrive at the boss chamber with partial resources already depleted from fighting through the approach. Which makes the three-minute time window even more challenging to meet."
She deactivated the displays, turning to face Ciel directly. "These four dungeons represent everything that makes peak Tier 1 dungeons genuinely dangerous. Environmental hazards, overwhelming enemy numbers, tactical complications that prevent standard approaches, and bosses that require specific strategies rather than just overwhelming power."
"How many parties have attempted these since they exceeded safe parameters?" Ciel asked.
"Seventeen total attempts across all four dungeons," Reeves replied. "Twelve resulted in withdrawals before boss engagement. Three reached boss chambers but couldn't secure victories. Two achieved kills but with party casualties that made the victories pyrrhic rather than successful."
The statistics painted a clear picture—these weren't dungeons where brute force or standard tactics succeeded. They required preparation, adaptation, and capabilities that most First Stage awakeners simply didn't possess.
"Guild recommendations?" Ciel asked.
Reeves pulled out a final document—tactical assessments from experienced dungeon analysts. "Clear order should be Goblin Nest, Boneyard, Murlock Lake, Spider's Lair. Start with the shortest outbreak timer, build momentum and experience, save the most dangerous for last when you've had time to adapt your strategies."
"Time allocation?"
"Minimum twelve hours between attempts," Reeves advised. "These dungeons will push your limits. Attempting them back-to-back would be reckless even if outbreak timers allowed for that spacing. Rest, recovery, tactical adjustment—all of those matter as much as raw combat capability."
Ciel absorbed the information with his usual analytical calm, his mind already structuring approaches for each dungeon. The challenges were clear, the risks acknowledged. But the tactical problems weren't impossible—just demanding.
"Is there anything else?" he asked.
"One thing," Reeves said, her professional demeanor softening slightly. "Guild Master Chakravedi specifically instructed me to emphasize this point: these contracts are opportunities, not obligations. If any attempt proves too dangerous, withdrawal is acceptable. Your life matters more than completing a contract, regardless of compensation involved."
"Understood," Ciel replied. "Thank you for the briefings. They're thorough and will be useful."
Reeves nodded, clearly recognizing that her warning would be considered but not necessarily heeded. "The dungeon access authorizations will be ready tomorrow morning. Bay assignments and scheduling are handled through standard Hall procedures—the contract just ensures priority access when you arrive."
Ciel left the conference room with his mind already three steps ahead, processing the tactical data and formulating initial strategies. The walk back through guild headquarters felt shorter than it had on arrival, his awareness focused inward rather than on his surroundings.
Outside, the afternoon sun had begun its descent toward evening, painting the city in amber and gold. The streets were still busy, but the energy had shifted—morning urgency giving way to the steadier rhythm of people finishing daily tasks and preparing for evening routines.
He walked toward the Dungeon Hall, not because he had immediate business there, but because his thoughts naturally turned toward one final test before beginning the contract work. The Graveyard of the Headless Knight—a dungeon he'd cleared multiple times with his party, but never truly alone.
Time to see what solo completion actually required.
The Dungeon Hall's evening shift had begun when Ciel arrived, the crowds thinner than morning rush but still steady with awakeners finishing afternoon runs or preparing for night attempts. The registration clerk recognized him immediately—his recent records with Sora and Veldora had made him a known quantity among Hall staff.
"Back again?" she asked, pulling up her interface. "Your party members already registered for a different dungeon earlier."
"Solo run this time," Ciel said, sliding his awakener identification across the counter. "Graveyard of the Headless Knight, Easy Mode."
Her eyebrows rose fractionally. "Solo attempt? That dungeon's rated for full parties even on Easy difficulty."
"I'm aware," Ciel replied evenly. "I've cleared it multiple times and want to test capabilities in different configurations."
The clerk hesitated, clearly wanting to say something about the risks of solo attempts, but awakeners had the right to make their own tactical decisions. She processed the registration, her fingers moving across the crystal interface with practiced efficiency.
"Entry fee is four Light Green Mana Stones for registration," she said finally. "Bay 12 is available. And... be careful. Solo runs have much higher casualty rates than party attempts."
"Noted," Ciel said, transferring the payment.
The walk to Bay 12 carried a different quality than when he'd made it with Sora and Veldora. The corridors felt wider somehow, less filled despite the same number of people moving through them. The ambient noise seemed more distant, his awareness turning inward toward the challenge ahead.
The guardian at Bay 12 gave him a long, measuring look when he arrived alone. "Where's your party?"
"Not coming," Ciel replied simply. "Solo attempt today."
The scarred veteran's expression suggested he'd seen this pattern before—awakeners convinced they could handle dungeons alone, only to learn why party formations existed for good reasons. But he didn't argue, just gestured toward the activated portal.
"Your funeral," he said, though his tone carried more concern than callousness. "Try not to make it literal."
Ciel stepped through the portal without responding, reality twisting around him in the now-familiar sensation of dimensional transition. The cold hit him first—the bone-deep chill that came from concentrated death mana. Then the oppressive atmosphere, the gray pall overhead, the weight of centuries pressing down on everything.
[Dungeon Notification]
[Welcome to the Graveyard of the Headless Knight – Easy Mode.]
[Monster Levels: 20-30.]
[Objective: Defeat the Dungeon Boss.]
But this time, he was alone. No Veldora to hold aggro, no Sora to provide ranged damage. Just him, his abilities, and the tactical advantages his Realm Holder class provided.
The first group of skeleton warriors emerged from behind broken tombstones—five of them, coordinated, their formation suggesting genuine tactical intelligence. In previous runs, Veldora would have taunted them while Ciel and Sora handled damage from advantageous positions.
Now, Ciel extended his hand and pulled them all into his realm through Realm Seize.
The transition was instantaneous—skeletons vanishing from the graveyard, reappearing in his realm's open plains where death mana's advantages disappeared and his King of Realm talent activated.
[Talent: King of Realm – Activated.]
[All Stats ×5 within Realm.]
Power flooded through him, his muscles surging with impossible strength, his reflexes sharpening to supernatural levels. The realm itself resonated with his intent, and he stood at the absolute peak of what First Stage capability could achieve.
The skeleton warriors tried to coordinate, but against his enhanced stats they moved like figures in slow motion. His mana-forged blade carved through reinforced bone with surgical precision, each strike destroying what would have required sustained effort under normal circumstances.
Fifteen seconds later, all five skeletons had dissolved into motes of dissipating energy.
[5 Skeleton Warriors Defeated.]
[Experience Gained.]
Ciel stepped back into the dungeon proper, his mana reserves barely touched. The strategy was simple—use Realm Seize to pull enemies into his territory where every advantage favored him, then eliminate them before returning to continue the dungeon clear.
The next group—eight skeletons including archers—fell even faster. The group after that required slightly more attention due to the presence of skeleton mages, but the fundamental approach remained devastatingly effective.
He moved through the graveyard with methodical efficiency, each encounter handled the same way. Pull, eliminate, return. Pull, eliminate, return. The rhythm became almost meditative, his enhanced perception tracking enemy positions, his analytical mind calculating optimal engagement timing.
Within thirty minutes, he'd cleared the entire graveyard approach and reached the catacomb entrance. His mana reserves sat at approximately seventy percent—lower than he'd like, but sustainable with his realm's mana wells available for recovery.
The Skeleton Squire mini-boss proved marginally more challenging. The creature's martial skill was genuine, and even with enhanced stats from King of Realm, Ciel had to focus completely to avoid taking hits. But without party members to defend, he could fight with pure aggression—no need to manage positioning for teammates, no concern about splash damage affecting allies.
The mini-boss fell in just under two minutes of concentrated combat.
[Mini-Boss Defeated – Skeleton Squire.]
[Experience Gained.]
Ciel paused to recover mana, crushing several mana stones while standing in his realm near one of the wells. The combination of natural regeneration and supplemental stones brought him back to full capacity within minutes.
Then he approached the throne room doors.
They opened with their familiar shriek of corroded metal, revealing the vast circular chamber beyond. And at its center, standing before the dark throne, the Headless Knight waited.
[Boss Monster Detected: Headless Knight – Level 30.]
The creature turned toward him, its crown of shadow flaring with recognition. This was the opponent that had pushed his party to their limits but, was defeated quickly without much resistance.
[Boss Defeated -- Headless Knight.]
[Dungeon Cleared -- Graveyard of the Headless Knight (Easy Mode).]
[Level Up! – Ciel Nova – Level 14.]
He was now one step closer to the threshold. Step by step he was progressing slowly now only six levels remain between him and the awakening.
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The Vengeful Scribe - Rise of the Blood Mage Hunter
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A noble’s blood magic grimoire cost Jack everything: his family, his fiancée, and the future he had as a young prodigy scribe. Drowning his grief in ale, he spent two decades chasing vengeance… and failed.
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