Returning his attention to his HUD, Moyo pulled up his status screen. The 30 points he'd earned from advancement sat there, waiting to be allocated. An embarrassment of riches compared to his starting pittance.

  Ajax's earlier observation echoed in his mind:

  "Strength is good, but it means nothing if your opponent gets to you before you can get to them. Speed kills, worm. Speed and precision."

  Taking the advice to heart, Moyo distributed the points carefully, thinking through each allocation:

  10 into Dexterity. The moment he confirmed it, he felt lighter, more agile. His movements became smoother, more controlled. The world seemed to slow slightly, not literally, but his perception had quickened, giving him more time to react.

  10 into Vitality. Warmth spread through his body, his heartbeat strengthening, his lungs expanding. He could feel his lifespan extending—an odd sensation, like roots growing deeper into existence itself. More health, more resilience, more time before age or injury could claim him.

  5 into Strength. His muscles tightened, density increasing without bulk. More power behind each strike, more force in each movement.

  5 into Endurance. His stamina reserves deepened, fatigue pushed back another step. He could fight longer, harder, without the weakness that came with exhaustion.

  STATS

  Name: Moyosore

  Path: None

  Race: Human

  Rank: Initiate

  Core: Intent [Dim]

  Level: 30

  Weapon: Blade (Imbued) Ida

  Skills: ? Blood Absorption [?] ? Endure Agony [U] 25 ? Physical Regeneration [U] 25 ? Toxin Resistance [C] 25 ? Blade Surge [U] 32 ? Crushing Blade [U] 5

  Attributes: ? STR: 38 ? DEX: 28 ? END: 38 ? VIT: 35

  Titles: ? Dungeon Pioneer [+1 point to every level gained within dungeons.]

  Items: ? Ethereal Credits: 100,500

  Moyo examined his stats with satisfaction. He was becoming something formidable—not invincible, not even particularly strong by Ajax's standards, but dangerous. Capable. A threat rather than prey.

  Then a thought occurred to him, and his satisfaction dimmed.

  "I killed all those aberrants," he muttered, thinking back to the serpent massacre, "and only went up five levels?"

  Ajax nodded, taking another swig from his gourd.

  "The system rewards less for weaker kills. It's designed to prevent powerful ascenders from farming the weak for easy experience. Diminishing returns, the further above your victims you are in level, the less you gain."

  He gestured with the gourd.

  "If you want better rewards, you'll need to target more challenging creatures. Things at your level or higher. And trust me, this dungeon has plenty of those. You won't have trouble finding appropriately deadly opponents."

  The way he said it made it sound like both a promise and a threat.

  ****

  Ajax sighed then, a sound heavy with finality. He set his gourd down and placed his hands on his hips, looking at Moyo with an expression that was almost regretful.

  "Well," he said, "this is the part where I say goodbye. Temporarily."

  Moyo froze, Ida suddenly feeling heavier in his grip.

  "You're leaving?"

  Part of him was relieved, Ajax's training was grueling, and the man's sadistic streak was nothing short of terrifying. Every session had been torture, every lesson paid for in blood and suffering. The thought of being free from that, of training at his own pace without fear of being doused in venom or lava...

  But another part of him felt uneasy. Lost, even. The Death Blade's presence, for all its brutality, had been a source of reassurance. Ajax was terrifying, yes, but he was also protection. A guarantee that nothing in this dungeon could truly harm Moyo while the master was watching.

  Without him...

  "Not entirely leaving," Ajax clarified, waving off the concern with characteristic dismissiveness.

  "I'll still be in the dungeon, just somewhere you can't reach without dying horribly. Babysitting you has been exhausting, and honestly, you've learned the basics. Now you need practical experience, real fights where I'm not there to save you if you fuck up."

  "Ah," Moyo said simply, unsure how to articulate the complicated mixture of emotions churning in his chest.

  "If you want to find me again," Ajax continued, his tone becoming more serious, "you'll need to grow stronger. Much stronger. You'll need to be at least the peak of Acolyte rank to even consider taking down the dungeon boss—or, as the system calls it, the Prime Aberrant."

  He paused, letting that sink in.

  "And you'll need to be that strong just to survive the journey to where it lairs. The deeper you go, the more dangerous this place becomes."

  Moyo's stomach sank.

  Acolyte was two full ranks above Initiate. Initiate, Acolyte, then what? Expert like Ajax? How many levels was that?

  "But I'm an Initiate," he muttered, his eyes wide.

  "I just got here. You're talking about—"

  Ajax clapped him on the shoulder, the impact solid enough to make Moyo take a step forward. His grin returned, sharp and confident.

  "Exactly. Which means you've got a long way to go. Better start grinding, worm."

  He leaned closer, and his tone shifted to something almost fatherly, the closest Ajax ever got to genuine emotion.

  "Listen carefully. If something's too strong to kill, and it will be, many times, run. Void Step if you can acquire it, sprint if you can't. There's no shame in surviving. The dead don't write stories. The dead don't get revenge. The dead don't become strong."

  Moyo stared at him, his expression unreadable. Ajax's words made sense, pragmatically. Survival first. Always survival.

  But something in him rebelled against the idea.

  "Would you be proud of me if I ran?" Moyo asked quietly.

  The question hung in the air between them. Ajax rocked back slightly, caught off guard. A tense moment passed, grey eyes meeting brown, master evaluating student.

  "I want you to live," Ajax said finally, firmly, each word deliberate.

  "Pride means nothing if you're dead. I'd rather have a cowardly living student than a brave dead one."

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  "Then I keep advancing," Moyo replied, his voice steady, certain.

  "Because running eventually stops working. Eventually, there's nowhere left to run to. So I grow strong enough that I don't have to run anymore."

  Ajax's expression shifted through several emotions: surprise, concern, consideration, and finally, something that might have been pride after all. His grin widened into a toothy smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

  "Stubborn bastard," he said, but there was approval in his voice.

  "Fine. You want to charge forward instead of running smart? Then do it. But do it intelligently. Pick your battles. Know when you're outmatched. And remember, I'll be disappointed if you die stupidly."

  Without another word, without ceremony or drawn-out farewells, Ajax turned and began walking toward the cavern tunnels. His stride was confident, unhurried, the walk of someone who owned every space he moved through.

  His laughter echoed faintly behind him, bouncing off stone walls, growing more distant with each passing second.

  And then he was gone.

  ****

  Left alone in the cavern for the first time since Ajax had appeared, the enormity of what had transpired crashed down on Moyo like a physical wave.

  The silence was oppressive. No more instruction. No more sardonic commentary. No more presence at his back ensuring his survival.

  Just him, Ida, and a dungeon full of things that wanted him dead.

  He stood in that silence for a long moment, gripping Ida tightly, feeling the weapon's pulse against his palm. His reflection stared back at him from a pool of still water, a stranger wearing his face. Harder. Scarred not visibly but in ways that went deeper than skin. Changed fundamentally from who he'd been.

  The engineering student was gone. The boy who worried about exams and graduation and his parents' approval had died in lava and venom and blood.

  What remained was something else. Something being forged by suffering into a shape that could survive in this new reality.

  Moyo took a deep, shuddering breath. Held it. Released it slowly, feeling his new body respond, feeling the power coiled in his core waiting to be used.

  When he opened his eyes, there was only determination. No fear, or rather, fear pushed down beneath purpose. Terror transformed into fuel.

  He sheathed Ida—the blade had come with a simple leather sheath Ajax must have provided, and set forth into the unknown tunnels, ready to grow stronger.

  One step at a time. One fight at a time. One level at a time.

  Until he was strong enough that nothing in this dungeon could threaten him.

  Until he was strong enough to find out what happened to his world, his family, his people.

  Until he was strong enough that the Archailect itself would have to acknowledge him.

  The journey had only just begun.

  *****

  Ajax strode out of the cavern, the faint echoes of Moyo's determination fading behind him. The dungeon stretched vast and unyielding before him, a twisted landscape of impossibilities made manifest. Distant glows marked lava rivers cutting through stone. Massive crystalline structures jutted from the ceiling like inverted mountains, glowing with contained power.

  With a sigh that spoke of weariness born more from tedium than exertion, he activated Void Step.

  Reality folded.

  One moment he stood at the cavern entrance. The next, he was at the base of a towering mountain on the horizon. The intervening distance, miles of dangerous terrain, aberrant-infested zones, and environmental hazards simply ceased to matter.

  Three steps through the void. Three blinks of existence. And he'd crossed what would have taken Moyo weeks to traverse.

  Rare-ranked movement skills are convenient. Expensive to acquire, harder to master, but convenient.

  Just as he prepared to ascend the mountain's face, his HUD flared to life with an incoming call notification. Ajax groaned at the message that accompanied it.

  [Notice: Syndicate Call Fee – 1,000 Credits.]

  "A thousand credits for a bloody call?" he muttered, but accepted the connection anyway. Money was meaningless to someone at his level, just numbers on a screen.

  "Highway robbery, but sure."

  The screen materialized in his vision, displaying the image of a masked figure. Silver hair cascaded behind the obscured face, the mask itself a work of art, smooth, featureless except for the eyeholes, clearly expensive.

  Ajax snorted, unable to help himself.

  "Really? This is the best disguise you could come up with? You must be cutting costs. What happened to the full-face projection tech? Budget cuts?"

  The figure ignored the jab entirely, their voice clipped and direct—all business, no patience for Ajax's humor.

  "Status of the candidate?"

  "You mean my disciple?" Ajax replied, putting deliberate emphasis on the word.

  A mischievous glint lit his eyes as he watched for the reaction.

  The figure stiffened visibly, posture going rigid.

  "By the system itself, Ajax, what have you done?"

  "Relax," Ajax said, waving dismissively as he began ascending the mountain, his intent carrying him upward in defiance of gravity.

  "I didn't teach him anything that would make him a target. No forbidden techniques, no secret arts, just basic swordsmanship and intent manipulation."

  The masked figure's voice rose, tinged with frustration that bordered on panic.

  "Ajax, him being your disciple already makes him a target! Do you have any idea how many people would kill for a chance to capture someone you've personally trained? The intelligence value alone—"

  Ajax tilted his head, feigning surprise.

  "Wow, and here I thought your twin was the one most likely to die of worry. You're giving them serious competition."

  The figure took a deep breath, clearly trying to rein in their irritation. When they spoke again, their voice was carefully controlled.

  "Status update. Now. Stop deflecting."

  "Fine," Ajax relented, though his smirk remained firmly in place.

  "The candidate—your word, not mine—is progressing well. Better than well, actually. Initiate rank already, which is borderline impossible for his timeframe. Intent user, swordsman path. That skill you oh-so-generously 'didn't' gift him? Working wonders. Absolute wonders."

  He paused deliberately.

  "Care to send me one of those Blood Absorption skills? I could use a backup regeneration method."

  "I have no idea what you're talking about," the figure replied coolly, but Ajax could hear the lie in the careful neutrality of their tone.

  "Of course you don't," Ajax said, shaking his head as he continued his ascent.

  His intent formed solid platforms beneath his feet, allowing him to walk up the sheer cliff face as casually as climbing stairs.

  "Just like you have no idea about the refined intent shards that mysteriously appeared in my Voidkeep. Or the extra credits that got deposited in my account. All just coincidences."

  With a flick of his wrist, his intent carried him higher, propelling him toward a single tunnel entrance carved into the mountainside. The opening was massive, large enough to fly ships through, and emanated a presence that would have sent most cultivators fleeing.

  A system message appeared before him.

  [Warning: You have breached the entrance to the Prime Aberrant's domain.]

  Ajax ignored it, continuing forward without breaking stride.

  "Time's running out," the masked figure said, their voice taking on an urgent quality.

  "You need to be out of that system before the First Great Trials arrive. That's non-negotiable, Ajax. And you're aware neither the Vanguard nor the denizens of that world can know you're there, correct?"

  Ajax rolled his eyes, a gesture wasted since the figure couldn't see his face.

  "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were doubting my ability to get away with all manner of mischief. You're not, are you? Because that would be insulting. I've snuck into Monarch territories. Crashed Syndicate auctions. Stolen from Archive vaults. This is nothing."

  "For once, Ajax, take this seriously," the figure pleaded, and there was genuine emotion breaking through the professional mask.

  "The fate of countless billions depends on this. If the plan fails, if he fails, entire systems could fall. Entire galaxies."

  The humor drained from Ajax's face. His expression turned serious, his grey eyes hardening with purpose.

  "Believe me, I know. I was there when the contract was drawn. When the price was set. When we agreed that this was the only way."

  He paused at the tunnel entrance, his voice turning firm, resolute.

  "When I tell you to be calm, trust me. He's special, this one. Truly special. More than even you suspect. And I intend to get the best out of him, one way or another. He'll be ready when the time comes."

  The figure hesitated, as if reading between Ajax's words, trying to parse what he wasn't saying.

  "By the Monarchs, Ajax, please," they said after a moment.

  "Nothing drastic. You haven't done anything drastic to the child, have you? No forbidden techniques? No soul binding? No—"

  Ajax's smirk returned, sharper this time. More dangerous.

  "What? I can't hear you—system interference, I think. These dungeons play hell with communication arrays."

  "Ajax, I know you can—"

  The call cut off abruptly as Ajax terminated the connection, chuckling to himself. The sound echoed through the tunnel entrance, swallowed by vast darkness beyond.

  He exhaled heavily, the amusement fading.

  "Now," he muttered, stepping into the tunnel properly, his form wreathed in dense intent that glowed like captured moonlight. "Where were we? Ah, yes."

  His voice dropped to something cold, something that carried the weight of his true power, the force that had earned him the title Death Blade across countless worlds.

  "You. Miss me?"

  The darkness ahead shifted. Massive. Ancient. Terrified.

  A towering figure emerged from the shadows, scales that shimmered like liquid mercury, catching and reflecting light in impossible ways. Serpentine eyes the size of shields locked onto Ajax, brimming with primal fear that transcended mere survival instinct.

  This was a creature that had never known fear. That had been an apex predator since its spawning. That had crushed countless challengers without effort.

  And it was terrified.

  [Prime Aberrant: Wyrm, Level 150.]

  The massive creature shuddered, its entire form trembling under the weight of Ajax's presence. Every scale rattled. Every muscle tensed. It coiled tighter into the shadows, trying to make itself smaller, trying to hide from the monster wearing human skin.

  Ajax smiled at it, the expression equal parts charm and menace, friendly and absolutely lethal.

  "Good," he whispered, his voice carrying through the cavern despite its softness.

  "Let's talk about the terms of your continued existence."

  The Wyrm whimpered, a sound that shouldn't have been possible from something so massive, so powerful. But Ajax had that effect on things.

  He always had.

  And somewhere far below, Moyosore Ogun walked deeper into the dungeon, unaware of the forces shaping his destiny, the powers investing in his survival, the expectations being placed on shoulders that had barely begun to broaden.

  Unaware that he was being prepared not just to survive, but to matter.

  To become something the Archailect itself would have to acknowledge.

  One way or another.