The request was denied immediately.
“No.”
The single word echoed through the audience hall of the Crimson House, heavy and final.
Daniel stood straight before the Patriarch, hands clasped, back unbent despite the pressure radiating from the man seated above him. His father’s eyes were sharp, measuring—not angry, but unyielding.
“You will not enter a dungeon,” the Patriarch said calmly. “Not now. Not with your foundation still unstable.”
Daniel did not look away.
“Father,” he said, voice steady, “training without real combat is incomplete. My control has reached its limit within the house.”
“That limit exists to keep you alive,” the Patriarch replied. “Dungeons do not forgive arrogance. Monsters do not hesitate. You are not yet—”
“I am ready.”
Silence fell.
The Patriarch’s fingers tapped once against the armrest.
“You speak as if readiness is something you decide,” he said. “Your body nearly collapsed weeks ago. You expect me to gamble your life on confidence?”
Daniel inhaled slowly.
Then, without warning, he raised his right hand—and released his control.
Mana surged.
Not a calm mana.
But explosively, Violent, and full of killing intent - an expected mana of demonic art user .
A dense, controlled pulse of demonic-tinged force radiated from his palm, warping the air for a brief instant before settling back into stillness.
The Patriarch’s eyes narrowed.
The hall felt colder.
“…Sword beginner,” the Patriarch said quietly.
Daniel lowered his hand.
“Yes.”
For the first time, the Patriarch leaned forward.
The boy who once could not even sense mana—who had been poisoned, broken, written off—now carried a reserve equivalent to a sword beginner cultivator. Not refined. Not polished. But real.
“Since when?” the Patriarch asked.
Daniel answered honestly.
“I stopped counting.”
A long pause followed.
Finally, the Patriarch exhaled.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
“…Very well,” he said. “You will be allowed to enter a low-level dungeon.”
Daniel’s eyes sharpened.
“But,” the Patriarch continued, “under two conditions.”
Daniel bowed. “Please state them.”
“First: you will take two Crimson House guards with you.”
Daniel nodded.
“Second,” the Patriarch said, voice hardening, “if the situation turns dangerous, you will rely on them. No pride. No defiance.”
Daniel smiled faintly.
“That won’t be necessary.”
The Patriarch’s gaze hardened—but he did not revoke his permission.
The dungeon entrance lay beyond the outer grounds of the Crimson House estate, carved into a jagged cliff face like a wound in the earth. Cold air seeped from within, carrying the faint stench of blood and damp stone.
The two assigned guards stood beside Daniel, both experienced fighters, their expressions serious.
“Young Master,” one of them said, “low-level or not, dungeons are unpredictable. We should establish a formation—”
Ding.
A translucent screen appeared before Daniel alone.
[ Quest Triggered: Dungeon Subjugation ]
Objective: Solo the dungeon
Monster Count: 23
Reward: Physical Enhancing Pill
Bonus: +2 Strength, +2 Agility
Failure: Death ]
[ Hidden Quest Available ]
Daniel stared at the screen.
Then he smiled.
“There’s no need for a strategy,” he said calmly.
The guards blinked.
“…Young Master?”
“I’ll handle it alone,” Daniel continued. “You can observe.”
Shock flickered across their faces.
“That’s reckless,” one guard snapped. “This isn’t training—”
“I know.”
Before they could stop him, Daniel stepped forward.
The dungeon swallowed them whole.
The interior was dim, lit only by faint bioluminescent moss clinging to jagged stone walls. The air was thick, heavy with hostility.
Then—
Movement.
A guttural snarl echoed through the cavern.
From the shadows emerged bulking figures—green-skinned, broad-shouldered, tusked mouths dripping saliva.
Orcs.
Daniel’s eyes widened slightly.
“So monsters really exist here,” he murmured. “Murim never had anything like this.”
The nearest orc roared and charged.
Daniel stepped forward.
No hesitation.
No flourish.
Yama Arts — First Form: Soul Slash.
His blade flashed once.
The orc was split cleanly in half, its body collapsing before it could even register pain.
Blood sprayed across the stone.
The guards froze.
“…What?” one whispered.
Daniel did not slow.
He moved.
Again and again.
Each strike precise. Efficient. Emotionless.
Soul Slash.
Soul Slash.
Soul Slash.
Orcs fell one after another, bodies littering the cavern floor. Daniel’s breathing remained steady, his movements controlled, his mana expenditure exact.
When the twenty-first orc collapsed, the dungeon trembled.
A heavier presence descended.
From deeper within the cavern emerged a Red Orc, taller than the others, muscles corded like iron, eyes burning with rage.
Daniel’s grip tightened.
“So you’re different.”
The Red Orc roared and attacked first.
Its massive blade swung horizontally.
Daniel took it head-on.
The impact sent him flying, his body slamming into the cavern wall hard enough to crack stone.
“YOUNG MASTER!” the guards shouted, rushing forward.
“I’m fine,” Daniel said, pushing himself up, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
His eyes burned—not with fear, but focus.
The Red Orc charged again.
This time, Daniel dodged.
He moved faster, weaving past brutal swings, searching—not for strength, but timing.
Soul Slash struck again.
It failed to cut.
“…As expected,” Daniel muttered.
Then his eyes sharpened.
“I suppose it’s time.”
He leapt.
The Red Orc swung upward instinctively—
—but Daniel stepped on its arm mid-swing, launching himself higher.
Yama Arts — Second Form: Thunder Clap.
The blade came down in a vertical arc, lightning-like in speed and force.
The Red Orc’s head split cleanly in two.
Its body collapsed.
Silence followed.
The guards stared, stunned beyond words.
Daniel exhaled.
“…Still rough,” he muttered. “The second form isn’t refined enough.”
Ding.
[ Remaining Enemies: 1 ]
Daniel frowned.
“One?”
Before he could react—
The dungeon shuddered.
Space warped violently.
A crimson rift tore open in the cavern floor, swallowing light, sound—
—and them.
The world twisted.
Daniel’s vision went black.
As the system remained silent.
