Airen followed silently behind Lirra, his shadow stretching long under the torchlight as she skipped ahead toward the treasure. Her voice carried a playful excitement, but his expression never changed. His eyes—cold, sharp, glowing faintly white—never left her back.
Lirra leaned forward, rummaging through the treasure, her golden hair swaying as she gasped in delight.
"Wow this the amazing bow i was talking about!" she exclaimed, lifting it with both hands.
The weapon glimmered with a faint, azure sheen. Its body was carved from black wood, polished smooth as obsidian, etched with runes that pulsed faintly with mana. The bowstring shimmered silver, almost like woven moonlight, vibrating softly as though alive. Even an untrained eye could see—it wasn't just a bow, it was a relic.
Airen finally reached her side. Without sparing the bow a single glance, he waved his hand. Shhhk! In an instant, every last treasure in the floor disappeared into his inventory. Lirra blinked in surprise, turning to protest—only to freeze as his hand rested gently on her head, ruffling her hair.
Her cheeks burned red, heart hammering as words trembled at the edge of her lips. "Ai–Airen, I–"
Shhk!
The sound of steel tearing flesh cut her voice short. Airen's sword was already buried deep in her chest, the blade piercing clean through. Her eyes widened, lips parting as a small gasp escaped. She clutched his arm in shock, blood dripping down onto the glowing bow.
Airen's face twisted into a grin—not one of joy, but of merciless satisfaction. His eyes gleamed like slits of cold fire as he leaned closer, whispering just loud enough for her fading consciousness to hear:
"Time to go."
With one ruthless pull, he yanked the blade free. Lirra collapsed to the ground, her blood pooling into the cubic cracks of the ruined village. Airen bent down, plucked the bow from her limp hands, and slung it over his shoulder without a second thought.
And then—
Crack. Shatter.
The island fractured. The goblin village, the corpses, even Lirra's body—all of it dissolved into glittering shards of light before vanishing completely.
Airen blinked once, and in the next breath found himself standing inside a dim, stone chamber. The 4th floor of the underground dungeon. Rough stone walls surrounded him, illuminated by flickering torches embedded neatly into the walls.
Airen exhaled lightly. "System… looks like I cleared the 4th floor."
[Correct.]
Before him, a new chest gleamed, larger and more ornate than the last.
Airen smirked faintly. "So this is the floor reward, huh?" He didn't hesitate—his hands pushed the lid open.
Inside, resting on velvet lining, was a single old book. Its cover was cracked leather, etched with faded runes, but when Airen flipped it open, glowing diagrams and instructions appeared before his eyes.
The text was clear:
To become a magician, one must first carve mana circles within the heart. Each circle expands the flow of mana, acting as a reservoir and amplifier. The more circles, the greater the mage.
Airen's eyes sharpened. "So you store mana in your heart same as star."
He asked the system in thought. Can I become both a knight and a magician at the same time?
[Yes.]
Airen smirked. "Perfect."
Closing his eyes, he focused. Instantly, three perfect circles etched themselves into his heart—formed with ease, as if he had done it countless times before. His aura flickered wildly, then settled, his body glowing faintly with both martial and magical power.
"I'm now a knight and magician both…" he muttered. His smile widened slightly. "I might be the only one in this world with that kind of power, right?"
[No. There are others who train both paths.]
"Tch. Figures." He shook his head. "So I'm not special yet."
He paused. "Should I push for a fourth circle?"
[Attempting that now will kill you. Your heart isn't strong enough.]
Airen's eyes narrowed. "Then tell me—how do I make my heart stronger?"
[By leveling up. Each level strengthens the body, mind, and heart alike. Only by reaching Level 99 will your heart endure a fourth circle.]
Airen nodded slowly. "So… I need 38 more levels."
[Correct.]
"And what about knights?"
[The principle is the same. Four stars also require a heart strong enough to endure the strain.]
Airen rubbed his chin, muttering. "So strength is tied to the heart… makes sense."
[There are heart-forging exercises, but they are rare and incredibly difficult to master. Most people never succeed. A normal human may only reach 6 circles or stars after training for 80 years. But those with special bodies or hearts can surpass that limit.]
Airen smirked faintly. "Special people, huh… Guess I'll just crush them all anyway."
He stored the book in his inventory and glanced back into the chest. A single vial remained—clear as glass, seemingly empty.
He raised it to his eyes. "Nothing inside?"
[It is not empty. This is a Tier 1 Invisibility Potion. Drinking it renders the body unseen for 30 seconds.]
Airen's lips twitched. "Hoh… now this is interesting."
He stored it carefully. "Now… what about the broken sword handle I got from the Goblin Chief?"
[It's not just a handle. It stabilizes mana flow, helping weaker casters channel power more efficiently.]
Airen scoffed. "So it's useless to me."
[Unless you find the complete sword. Then it becomes a weapon of immense potential.]
Airen hummed. "We'll see." With that, he tossed it into his inventory.
His gaze turned toward the heavy stone staircase at the end of the chamber, leading deeper into darkness. He stepped forward, aura faintly flaring.
"Time to move on," Airen muttered, his aura faintly flaring as he stepped forward.
With steady strides, he descended into the unknown. The stone gave way beneath his boots to soft earth, the chill of the dungeon melting into a strange warmth.
When his eyes adjusted, the sight before him made even his hardened heart pause.
Hidden deep within an ancient forest, where fractured beams of sunlight pierced through towering canopies, rose a cathedral of nature and stone. Its ivory arches, entwined with moss and roots, pulsed faintly as though infused with forgotten divinity. Lanterns dangled from branches and stone pillars alike, their flames unyielding to the damp twilight air.
The structure didn't feel built—it felt alive. A living sanctuary where man's craft and nature's will had fused into one eternal monument. The air was heavy, not with danger, but with reverence.
Airen's lips curled into the faintest smirk. "Looks like the 5th floor wants to test me properly."