Six days had passed.
I was halfway through roasting a lizard on a stick when the sky suddenly lit up like a comet smashing into a billboard, a massive system alert flashing in gold and red:
[ALERT]: Over 400 Players Have Been Eliminated Attempting to Clear the First Dungeon in Arkanos City – Shallow Chambers.
[Status]: Uncleared
Four hundred players. Gone. Just like that.
I chewed the roast lizard on the stick slowly. The lizard tasted like burnt socks, but at least it hadn't tried to kill me. Yet. I'd been grinding alone. No high-risk dungeons. No elite parties. Just solo farming in areas other players didn't want. I'd just finished clearing a village of ogres. They were using human bones for furniture. I found a chest in the chief's hut buried under a bunch of rotten hides and ash-covered scrolls. Inside was a silver dagger, some leather bracers, reinforced boots, and a light tunic. All of it low-tier, but a solid upgrade from the junk I'd been wearing.
The next morning, I started walking toward Arkanos City. That's where most players were gathering and where hundreds had already died. The trail was quiet. No monsters, no signs of players. Birds were chirping, the wind was steady, and somewhere nearby a Mad Wolf howled.
Suddenly, a sharp yell broke through the quiet, "FIREBALLLL!!!—oh, come on!!" followed by a loud thud and a chorus of angry squeals. I crouched and moved toward the noise. Through a break in the brush, I saw a guy in a blue coat. The bottom of it was burned. He was in a small clearing, holding a staff, and around him were five goblins, snarling and closing in.
I tightened my grip on my dagger.
He raised his staff again. "C'mon, you useless stick!"
I sighed. "Time to be the hero no one asked for," I said, slipping out of the trees.
One goblin swung its club, just in time for me to shove my dagger into its face. It screeched, staggering back. I spun, ducked a wild swing, and sank my blade into another goblin's back. Two down.
The guy blinked, eyes wide. "Wait, who are you—?"
"No time for questions!" I replied. "You got anything left in that fancy stick of yours?"
He grinned, eyes lighting up. "Actually... one more shot."
He lifted his staff, shouted a ridiculously dramatic spell name—"SUPER DUPER OMEGA FIREBALL!!!"—and launched a fireball right into the goblin pack. Flames roared, scorched green bits flew everywhere.
We stood, panting.
A system window popped into visibility in front of us:
[+1 Level gained]
He stuck out his hand. "Lars Dracule. Mage class. Probably the worst one right now."
I shook it. "Lu Ryo. No Class. That's... literally my class."
He stared. "Wait. No Class? Like—like actually?"
I nodded.
He laughed and shouted, "Dude! You might be the unluckiest guy on earth!"
"I should've just let the goblins kill you earlier," I replied. "Oh! and looted your body!"
We laughed. That laugh—the kind you let out only after barely escaping death.
"So," I said, brushing dirt off, "Where are you headed?"
"Arkanos City," He replied.
I grinned. "Same destination. And yeah, soloing right now sounds like a good way to suicide."
He gave me a look. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"
"Form a party, get some levels, die less stupidly?" I said.
He smirked. "Exactly."
I held out my hand. "You die first, I loot your body."
He shook it. "Same goes for you."
Just like that, a duo was formed.