The alpha's howl was a physical force. A wave of pure dominance that washed over him.
For a second, he was frozen. Not by fear. But by the sheer presence of the beast.
It was more than a C-Rank monster. It was a king.
Then his survival instincts kicked in. A rush of energy.
Trapped. The word screamed in his mind.
The narrow trail was a kill box. And he was the target.
He didn't hesitate. He spun and scrambled up the side of the gully. His fingers found purchase on gnarled roots.
The wolves charged. A wave of black fur and snapping teeth.
The alpha was the fastest. Its jaws clamped shut inches from his boot.
He pulled himself over the lip and ran. He didn't look back.
He could hear their pursuit. A thunder of paws. The sound of their panting.
The Shadow woods became a nightmare. He vaulted over logs, ducked under branches.
He was faster than a normal human, but the wolves were creatures of the forest. They moved with a terrifying grace.
He could feel them gaining. The alpha was right behind him. Its hot breath was a ghost on the back of his neck.
He risked a glance. Glowing yellow eyes. Burning with a cold, intelligent fury.
He spotted a glimmer of light. The dungeon exit.
Hope surged through him. He poured every last ounce of stamina into a final sprint.
He burst out of the treeline and threw himself at the portal. He stumbled through. The transition was a dizzying lurch. He crashed onto the hard cobblestones of the alley.
He had made it. He was out.
He scrambled to his feet. He turned to face the portal.
The alpha's head pushed through the shimmering barrier. It snarled. Its eyes locked onto him. A promise of a bloody death.
But the real world had rules.
Faint, blue runes flared to life around the portal. The city's containment ward. The alpha roared in pain as holy energy sizzled against its hide. It forced the beast back into the Shadow wood.
The portal shimmered. The beast was gone.
Edward stood there, leaning against the cold brick wall. His chest heaved. His body was a tapestry of cuts and bruises.
He had survived. Barely.
It was a terrifying, chaotic, and miserable experience.
And he couldn't wait to do it again.
He checked his system. 40 SP. A fortune to him.
He had a stat point. Without a second thought, he pushed it into Dexterity.
`[DEX: 5 -> 6]`
He felt the change instantly. His limbs were lighter. His reflexes were sharper. It was a tiny improvement. But it was progress.
The long walk back was a blur. He slipped into his dorm room like a phantom. He locked the door and slumped against it.
He collapsed onto his bed. Sleep claimed him instantly. A heavy, dreamless blackness.
It didn't last long.
He was jolted awake. The sharp chime of a system notification. He sat up. His hand reached for the Bone Dagger.
The blue screen flared to life. Its text glowed with a malevolent light.
`[System Alert: Punishment Protocol Activated for Unsanctioned Dungeon Entry.]`
Edward stared. His blood turned to ice.
Punishment? For what? For succeeding?
This wasn't a punishment for failure. This was a punishment for initiative.
The message continued.
`[A Shadow Stalker will be dispatched to your current location. Mission: Survive.]`
Before he could process the words, the air in his room grew cold. The shadows deepened. They writhed with a life of their own.
A shape emerged from the wall. It didn't break the stone. It phased through it. It rose to its full height. A being of solidified nightmare. Tall and thin. Long, spidery limbs. A smooth, featureless head.
The system was not just punishing him. It was escalating. The Howling Abyss was a prison. This was an assassination.
The Shadow Stalker moved. Its motion was silent. Impossibly fast.
One moment it was across the room. The next it was right in front of him. A long, obsidian claw scythed towards his throat.
Edward reacted on pure instinct. He threw himself off the bed. The claw sliced through the air where his head had been. He scrambled backward. His room was a tiny stone box. No room to dodge. No terrain to exploit.
A cage match. His opponent could teleport.
The Stalker flickered again. It appeared behind him. He turned quickly, swinging the Bone Dagger in panic. The blade struck the claw with a sharp screech. The block held.
The creature was strong. But its greatest weapon was its terrifying speed.
It pressed the attack. A relentless flurry of shadowy strikes. The small room was a whirlwind of motion. Edward was forced into a frantic, defensive dance. He was outmatched.
The Stalker disengaged. It vanished.
Edward's eyes darted around the room. He couldn't see it. Couldn't hear it. But he could feel it. The air to his left grew cold. He turned quickly, swinging his dagger. Nothing. A flicker of movement to his right. He lunged. Still nothing.
The creature was toying with him.
He backed away until his back hit the wall. The Stalker materialized in the center of the room. It raised its arm. The claw elongated into a wicked, three-foot-long spear of shadow.
It was preparing for the final strike.
His mind raced. His eyes fell on the only other object in the room. His bed.
An idea, born of pure desperation, sparked in his mind.
As the Shadow Stalker flickered, appearing in front of him with its spear aimed at his heart, Edward didn't block.
He kicked the leg of his bedframe.
The rickety bed tipped over with a loud shriek. It crashed down in the Stalker's path. The creature had not anticipated such a crude tactic. It was forced to phase backward.
It was the only opening he was going to get.
He lunged at the fallen bedframe. He grabbed an iron leg and wrenched it free with a screech of protesting metal. He now had a shield.
The Stalker reappeared. It charged. Its shadow-spear was a blur.
Edward met the charge. He held the mangled bedframe like a riot shield. The spear struck the iron with a deafening clang. The force sent him stumbling back, but the shield held.
The creature attacked again. A furious storm of stabs and slashes. The bedframe was being destroyed. Chunks of rusted metal flew off with every impact.
He saw his chance. The Stalker overcommitted. Its spear became momentarily lodged in the thickest part of the bedframe.
It was off-balance.
Edward abandoned his ruined shield. He lunged forward, under the creature's guard. He drove the Bone Dagger into the center of the Stalker's chest.
No resistance. The dagger slid in like it was passing through smoke.
The familiar, cold drain of soul energy began. But it was slow. The Stalker wasn't dying.
Its head tilted down. It looked at the dagger buried in its chest. Then it reached down. Its obsidian claws wrapped around Edward's wrist. And began to squeeze.
Agonizing pain shot up his arm. The bones in his wrist ground together. He was trapped.
His vision swam with black spots. His vision flashed.
`[Soul Rend… significant damage to… spiritual essence.]`
With his last ounce of will, he activated the skill. A pulse of invisible energy erupted from the blade.
The Shadow Stalker let out its first and only sound. A high-pitched, electronic shriek of agonizing static. Its body convulsed. Its grip vanished. Its shadow form destabilized before it dissolved completely.
Edward collapsed to the floor. He cradled his brutalized wrist. He had won.
His room was a wreck. The bed destroyed. The walls scored with claw marks.
He had no time to recover.
The noise had not gone unnoticed. Heavy pounding echoed from his door.
"What in the blazes is going on in there?" a student shouted.
Another voice, sharp and familiar, cut through the noise. "What is that Rankless trash doing now?" It was Chris.
Edward struggled to his feet. He looked at the wreckage. At the splintered door that was about to give way.
He knew, with a sinking feeling, that he had no way to explain any of this.