The stone corridor stretched endlessly in front of Seong Jae-Hyun, twisting like a serpent's tail beneath the earth. His world was absolute darkness — a void that no light could pierce. Yet in this blackness, every sound was a symphony, every scent a map. The faint drip of moisture from overhead, the distant scratching of claws, the faint pulse of magic—it all told him more than sight ever could.
His feet shuffled silently along the rough floor, muscles trained to memorize every bump and crevice. Ahead, the faint footsteps of his teammates were steady, but filled with impatience. To them, he was nothing more than deadweight — a blind boy who clung to life with stubbornness no one respected.
"Keep up, Jae-Hyun," barked Jin Do-Hwan, the guild leader, his voice sharp and cold. "We don't have time for your slow steps."
Jae-Hyun's jaw clenched, but he said nothing. He'd long ago learned that speaking only invited ridicule. His ears picked up the mocking laughter of the others, the whispered jabs when they thought he wasn't listening.
"He's a burden," one sneered. "Blind as a bat. How did he even survive this long?"
The party descended deeper. The walls glowed faintly with luminescent moss, casting eerie shapes that Jae-Hyun couldn't see but could sense their presence. The air grew thick with tension, and the sounds of battle readiness echoed faintly.
Then, suddenly—the world shifted.
A guttural, bone-chilling roar tore through the silence.
"Boss!" shouted a teammate, sword drawn.
Jae-Hyun tensed, heart pounding.
He could not see, but he felt the presence: a massive, malevolent force, like a black storm coiling in the dark.
"Form up!" Jin Do-Hwan commanded.
But as the team scattered to face the beast, Jae-Hyun felt a sharp pain — a cold knife pressed into his side.
Betrayal.
The party descended deeper. The walls glowed faintly with luminescent moss, casting eerie shapes that Jae-Hyun couldn't see but could sense their presence. The air grew thick with tension, and the sounds of battle readiness echoed faintly.
Then, suddenly—the world shifted.
A guttural, bone-chilling roar tore through the silence.
"Boss!" shouted a teammate, sword drawn.
Jae-Hyun tensed, heart pounding.
He could not see, but he felt the presence: a massive, malevolent force, like a black storm coiling in the dark.
"Form up!" Jin Do-Hwan commanded.
But as the team scattered to face the beast, Jae-Hyun felt a sharp pain — a cold knife pressed into his side.
Betrayal.
A bitter smile flickered in Jae-Hyun's mind. They didn't understand. They couldn't see the threads of intent swirling invisibly around them—the lies, the greed, the fear. But he saw it all. Not with eyes, but with something far older: instinct sharpened by pain and silence.
Today was supposed to be just another raid. A routine run into the lower depths of the dungeon. But whispers had reached the guild—rumors of a powerful new dungeon boss lurking in the shadows, something stronger and deadlier than ever before.
The others were eager. Hungry for glory.
Jae-Hyun felt it too—the heavy pulse of magic throbbing beneath the stones, like a heartbeat of the earth itself.
"Leave him!" Jin Do-Hwan's voice was brutal. "We can't carry dead weight!"
Jae-Hyun gasped, pain exploding through his body. He stumbled, collapsing onto the rough stone floor as the cruel laughter of the guild echoed around him.
His mind screamed to fight, but his body betrayed him.
As darkness seeped into his visionless eyes, a single thought burned clear: This isn't the end.