From Alessio Leone's perspective
The uneven stone road stretched ahead of them, lit only by torches fixed into rusted iron brackets. Twilight bathed Eldenwall in a reddish glow, and every elongated shadow seemed to crawl like an omen.
Matteo walked beside Alessio, tugging at the scorched sleeves of his blue robe, still carrying the faint smell of smoke from spells cast minutes earlier. His bright eyes gleamed with an engineer's curiosity at a newly discovered prototype—and at the same time, with the nervousness of someone beginning to realize this wasn't a "game" in the comfortable sense of the word.
Alessio kept his shield strapped to his left arm, axe in his right hand, his steps steady and gaze fixed on the horizon. No hesitation in his posture. Only conviction.
— Where are we going? Matteo broke the silence, adjusting his glasses. Don't tell me you're planning another monster marathon, because honestly, my brain's still throbbing.
Alessio drew a deep breath before answering:— No. We're heading to a dungeon.
His friend stumbled, nearly losing his balance.— A… what?
— A dungeon, he repeated flatly.
Matteo gave a nervous laugh, as if Alessio had just told a bad joke.— You've lost your mind. We're level four! Even I—who's never opened an MMORPG forum in my life—know that's suicide.
Alessio stopped for a moment, turning his amber-hard gaze on his friend.— In any other game, it would be suicide. But the Black Tower isn't just any game.
— So it's possible to clear a dungeon at level four in the Black Tower? Matteo asked, pronouncing each word as if to make absolutely sure Alessio understood.
— No. The Black Tower is far more difficult than any of those other games. "Impossible" doesn't even cover what it means to attempt a dungeon right now. Basically, only a complete lunatic—or a suicidal fool—would try it at this point. Alessio's face was as serious as stone.
His friend was left speechless.
— Naturally, that's true for everyone else. As for us, we'll be fine, Alessio went on. I think. That last part, he kept to himself.
The silence stretched between them. Matteo was still trying to process what he'd just heard, while Alessio resumed walking. The sound of his boots echoed against the stone—steady, firm, like a verdict.
The truth was Alessio had his reasons for chasing this madness.
The memory burned in his mind. A post from nearly ten years ago, from his previous life. He remembered it with surgical clarity: a novice player, carried by veteran friends into a basic dungeon. The group had only wanted to boost the rookie's level. Nothing more. But at the end of the mission, when the echoes of victory still lingered in the air, the improbable happened:
A title.
In the Black Tower, titles were rarer treasures than legendary weapons. Singular achievements, often unique, never to be repeated. And that player—until then a nobody—had earned the very first recorded title in the game's history.
The news spread like wildfire. Forums exploded, streamers screamed on live broadcasts, entire guilds abandoned farming routes to dive into low-level dungeons, desperate to replicate the feat.
But the Tower was cruel in its reply.
A single title. For a single player.Never repeated.Never granted again.
The collective frenzy ended in frustration, with rookie corpses littering the unforgiving dungeon halls.
And yet, that first man had gone down in history.
According to the tale, he had entered the dungeon at level four—before earning his first status points.
Alessio could not allow such an opportunity to repeat without him.
This time, the title would be his.
That was why he had stopped leveling up. Why he had come here.
His eyes narrowed, fixed on the road ahead. He knew he was dragging Matteo into something that, to anyone else, was pure insanity. A level-four Tank and a green Mage, barely accustomed to his own spells, walking straight into a den designed to devour entire parties.
It was madness.It was suicide.It was the only choice.
— Matteo… Alessio's voice cut through the silence, firm as steel. I know it sounds insane. But we have to try.
The engineer adjusted his glasses again, drew a deep breath, and smiled.— Well, it's just a game. You're the veteran here. Let's go.
Alessio didn't reply. His friend still underestimated the Black Tower and the weight it would carry for the world.
His own eyes were already fixed on the horizon, where the dungeon entrance began to take shape: a black stone arch jutting out of the hillside, etched with ancient runes pulsing blood-red, as though the very earth were bleeding. The yawning mouth of the underworld awaited.
And before it, Alessio felt destiny itself settle on his shoulders.
This was where he was headed.This was where his calculated madness would begin.This was where he would seek the impossible.
The arch loomed closer with every step, like the open jaws of a beast carved into the hill's flank. Alessio could already feel the cold breath seeping out from within, carrying the damp, metallic scent rookies called "the smell of death."
It should have been empty.It should have been just him and Matteo—two fools about to challenge the impossible.
But that wasn't what he found.
A few meters from the entrance, Alessio slowed. His trained eyes caught the movement first: silhouettes cut against the gloom. Not monsters. Players.
And not just one or two.Two groups.
One larger—three people.The other smaller—only two.They argued, harsh voices and sharp gestures.
Alessio simply observed, calm, eyes fixed on the scene as a thought passed through his mind:
"Apparently… we're not the only lunatics today."
He didn't care much. Tightening his grip on the axe, he kept walking toward the dungeon. To him, the presence of others didn't change the essence of it: it was still madness, and he would still go forward.
But in the end, his steps slowed.He stopped.
Not because of the argument.Not because of the risk.
But because, among those agitated figures, he recognized someone.