I was getting too comfortable.
There was a pattern. A rhythm. Hunt. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.
Monsters still attacked, but I knew their habits now. Their sounds. Their stench.
I had crushed a limping hornbeast with nothing but terrain advantage and a half-buried blade trap.
I outwitted a cave ogre by luring it into its own acid pool.
Even the poison wasn't killing me anymore.
[Iron Gut Lv. 2]
[Basic Sword Proficiency Lv. 4]
[Improvised Trapcraft Lv. 1]
I wasn't leveling. I wasn't evolving. But I was surviving, getting smarter.
And for the first time, a dangerous thought crept in:
"I might actually be good at this."
I made a joke to myself that night while roasting a slime core on a spit.
"Once I get out of here, I'll open a dungeon survival school. First class: 'How Not to Die in a Place That Wants You Dead.'"
There was no laugh track. Just silence.
But I smiled.
For a moment, I almost felt like a person again.
Then I made a mistake.
I went back to the center.
To the altar.
I told myself it was reconnaissance. Preparation.
But the truth?
I needed to know.
Needed to know if this hell had an endpoint. If I was really alone. If the system had just… abandoned me.
I approached with caution. Every step deliberate.
The altar was alive now.
It pulsed, not just with light — but with something thicker. Pressure. Like standing under deep water. My ears rang.
Then something moved.
At first, I thought it was my shadow stretching wrong.
Then I realized the ground was pulling open.
Stone cracked. The air grew heavy.
Metal scraped against bone.
And the system finally reacted:
[Trial Guardian Awakened]
[Level: ???]
[Behavior: Execution Protocol]
[Warning: Engagement Not Advised.]
It stepped out of the crater like it had been born from the altar itself.
Ten feet tall. Armor like burned obsidian. Sword like a monolith.
Its visor glowed not with light — but a hunger. Like it was relieved to finally be summoned.
I backed up. Slowly. Calmly.
Then I ran.
It didn't chase.
That scared me more.
I hid in my shelter for the rest of the day.
Didn't move. Didn't eat.
Every few hours, I crept up and checked the horizon. The altar still glowed.
The Guardian wasn't there anymore.
It was somewhere else.
I had a choice.
Stay inside my little hole, pretending to be strong. Or go back and fight a thing the system itself said not to engage.
I already knew what I was going to do.
And that's what terrified me most.
I left at midnight.
Carried everything I had:
The rusted sword. Two bone knives. One smoke trap. A stitched leather guard on my arm. A prayer I didn't believe in.
No buffs. No stat boosts.
Just instinct.
I walked to the altar like it was a funeral.
And in a way, it was.
"I'm definitely going to regret this aren't I?"
[Engagement Confirmed.]
[Trial Guardian Active.]
The ground shook.
And death answered.