They left the dungeon through the collapsing stone gate, the light of the outside world spilling across their faces. The sun was dipping behind the mountains, painting Wethervore's hills gold and crimson.
Luke stretched, letting out a long satisfied sigh.
"Well, that wasn't so bad! I mean, sure, it was supposed to be a Doom-rank dungeon for weaklings, but for me?" — he grinned — "More like D for Done."
Leena groaned. "You've been saying that same line since we left the dungeon."
"Because it's true!" Luke said proudly, pointing to himself. "You saw that last strike — boom! One shot. The beast didn't even have time to blink!"
Mira giggled. "Honestly, I still can't believe it. That troll looked terrifying, and then whoosh — you turned it into barbecue."
"Exactly! The guild's going to love this story. 'Luke, the future Dragon Knight, slays the Ironhide Troll in one blow.' Sounds heroic, doesn't it?" He puffed out his chest.
Leena crossed her arms. "More like lucky. If I hadn't cut the tendons in its legs, you'd still be trying to scratch its armor."
"Oh, please, Princess," Luke teased, "You nicked its ankle. I did the real damage."
"Say that again and I'll nick something else," she muttered, though a faint smirk tugged at her lips.
Grim trailed a few steps behind them, hands in his pockets, watching the three of them bicker as their laughter echoed through the trees.
Luke's proud as ever… but I can't really blame him.
He kicked a stone off the path. He doesn't know that troll was already dead before his flame hit it. None of them do except, he stares at Leena.
The system flickered faintly in his mind's eye:
[Kill registered: Ironhide Troll – B+ Rank]
[XP distributed to host only.]
[Stats increased.]
Every time I fight… this thing keeps growing. I'm not sure what it's turning me into not like I don't appreciate the power but what is really going on? Where did this system come from? Did someone create it for me?, hmph, there's still so much I don't know yet.
Ahead of him, Mira was skipping along, talking to Leena about new healing spells she wanted to learn.
"Leena, what if I try enchanting my healing light? Maybe I could make it… sparkle? Princess-style!"
Leena laughed. "You'd blind your patients before healing them."
"Still better than Luke's fire magic. At least mine smells like roses!"
"Hey!" Luke protested. "My fire smells like victory, thank you very much!"
The group burst into laughter again, and Grim found himself smiling quietly.
They're growing fast. Stronger. Happier. Maybe it's okay if they never know.
The trail wound down into the valley, the rooftops of Wethervore glinting in the distance.
Luke turned, walking backward so he could face everyone. "So, when we get back, we're telling the guild master that I—"
Leena cut in, "We."
"—we," Luke corrected with exaggerated politeness, "took down a troll with flawless teamwork, grace, and of course, my signature style."
Mira clapped. "Oh, oh! And we should all eat at Silverwood's Tavern after. I heard they have honey roasted boar now!"
"Food first," Leena said. "Then storytelling."
"Food," Luke agreed instantly.
Grim chuckled under his breath. Same old group…
But as he looked up toward the evening sky, his smile faded a little.
If that troll really came from my system's instability… then it means something worse is brewing. I can feel it.
He glanced at his teammates ahead — laughing, teasing, utterly carefree.
For now… they deserve to smile like that.a memory of all their deaths flashed his eyes again and he pulls a sudden stop as sweat rolled down his cheeks."I'm going to save you all, this time, you don't have to die saving me."
And with that, he followed them down the road, his shadow stretching long behind him as the sun disappeared behind Wethervore's hills.
The guild hall of Wethervore roared with life.
The great crystal chandeliers flickered with mana-light, and the air was thick with laughter, the clinking of mugs, and the sharp scent of roasted meat. It was celebration night — their night.
"To our first dungeon raid!" Luke yelled, tankard raised high.
"And to our great knight who dealt the final blow!" Mira teased, rolling her eyes.
"Don't feed his ego," Leena sighed, sipping from her cup. "He already thinks he's the hero of a ballad."
"That's because I am!" Luke grinned, puffing his chest. "You should've seen the beast's face before I crushed it!"
The hall erupted with cheers and laughter. Even the guild master chuckled behind his long mug, muttering something about "young bloods and their pride."
But at the far end of the table, Grim just smiled faintly. His drink sat untouched.
Finally... a quiet victory just—
His thoughts froze.
A faint blue glow flickered across his vision.
[EXP +1200]
[Mana Absorbed +240]
[Celestial Domain expanding...]
He blinked. Once. Twice. What?
He opened his system discreetly, hidden under the table.
The translucent screen shimmered to life. His jaw tightened as his eyes darted through the new notifications.
[Foot Soldier Squad: Standby]
[Winged Sentinels: Standby]
[Archangels: Active — Location: ???]
Active? But I didn't summon them.
He pulled up the celestial map. The interface expanded, glowing with shifting lines of energy — his domain, a vast white plane surrounded by silver mist. Two bright marks blinked outside of it, far to the northeast.
[Distance: 47 miles from current position.]
Grim's stomach dropped. "...No way."
A drop of sweat rolled down his temple.
[Recall Archangels — Immediate Command Override]
The system hesitated — then blinked back an answer:
[Command Rejected: Mission in Progress]
Mission? I didn't give a mission!
He stood abruptly, chair scraping against the wooden floor.
"Grim?" Leena looked up, puzzled. "Where are you going?"
"Uh—uhm…" He forced a nervous smile. "Just remembered something—I, uh, promised to check something at home."
"At this hour?" Mira frowned. "You never even touched your food!"
Luke smirked. "Don't tell me you've got a secret date, huh?"
"Y–yeah. Something like that," Grim muttered, already backing away. "Don't wait up."
Before anyone could respond, he was gone — the guild's double doors slamming behind him, his cloak fluttering in his wake.
Outside, the night air hit him like a wave of ice. The moonlight shimmered against his skin as he dashed into the dark, his mana flaring.
He spread his arms, blue light forming around him — wings of ethereal energy unfolded from his back.
If they're attacking on their own, that means the system's bypassing my commands again. But why?
He leapt into the sky, the wind roaring past him. The city lights blurred below, fading into the forest's black canopy.
Did the system evolve again? Or... is someone controlling them?
No, impossible. The Celestial Domain is supposed to obey only me.
Then why does it feel like something else is pulling the strings?
He pushed harder, faster. The forest blurred, and a distant red glow appeared on the horizon — mana explosions, faint but powerful.
Archangels… don't fight unless provoked.
So who provoked them?
He clenched his fists, eyes narrowing as the wind cut across his face.
Whatever's happening, it's connected to me. And if someone gets hurt because of it... that's on me.
The night grew darker, the mana flares brighter — and the faint, ominous pulse of divine energy guided him straight toward the chaos his own creation had unleashed.
The sky was darkening by the time Grim arrived. His boots touched down lightly on scorched soil, and the smell of burnt magic filled the air. The forest that once whispered with life now crackled with residual energy — trees split in half, earth carved with deep golden slashes.
He frowned, summoning his screen again. The map flickered with two glowing markers — his Archangels. Both outside the Celestial Domain.
"What the hell…" he muttered, eyes narrowing. "How and what are they doing here? I didn't summon them."
The wind howled past as he followed the trail of destruction. Then, through the haze of smoke, he saw them.
Two towering mechanical figures, humanoid in form but far from human.
The first — a towering male-shaped construct — stood in a crater surrounded by dead magical beasts. His armor was obsidian black, lined with glowing veins of molten gold. His wings, six in total, were made of radiant metal feathers — each one faintly humming as if alive.
The second — slender, feminine — floated a short distance behind. Her body gleamed silver, trimmed with faint azure light that pulsed like a heartbeat. Unlike the other, her wings folded softly, less weaponized and more angelic.
Grim stared at them both, his pulse quickening.
"What are you doing here?, is something controlling them?, I never really tried these soldiers"he asked aloud,to himself though
No answer.
He took a few steps closer, careful, trying not to trigger any reaction. "Hey… I didn't summon you. You shouldn't even be out here."
Then the female construct moved. Its head turned slowly — mechanical joints groaning softly — and for the first time, Grim saw it look at him.
The air vibrated when it spoke.
"We acted upon your will, master."
Grim froze, eyes wide. "Wait— you can talk!?"
Its voice was deep, smooth, and disturbingly human. "We are capable of responding to intent. You desired strength, did you not?"
"I— yeah, but I didn't order you to leave the domain! You— you're not even supposed to move without commands!"
It stepped forward gently, her tone softer — clearer, almost kind.
"Only the lesser soldiers are mindless, my lord. We… we are of higher rank. We can think. We can choose."
Grim blinked, stunned. "Choose? You mean… you've been aware this whole time?"
The female nodded faintly. "Yes."
Before Grim could process, the male turned away from him — his tone shifting, cold and edged.
"Awareness is a burden, not a gift."
Grim frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," the male said, slowly turning back to face him, "that we understand what you are — and what you are not."
Grim's stomach tightened. "What?"
"You wear the mark of command, yet you do not know what you lead. You were chosen by accident. Nothing more than a boy playing god."
"You can talk? You don't know how many questions I want to ask you, what are you? Where did you come from?" Grim said excited.
"What did you take us for? A bunch of mindless soldiers?, you have never been more unfit to rule."the male one said
The female raised a hand, stepping in front of the male.
"Please— don't misunderstand him, master. He doesn't mean harm, he's just—"
"—Tired," the male interrupted. "Tired of pretending to serve something unworthy."
Grim stared, eyes narrowing. "Unworthy? I didn't even ask for this power!" He said lazily but I appreciate it though.
The male's golden veins flared brighter.
" relinquish it! Give it to one who understands creation. Give it to one who was meant to rule!"
"And who would that be?" Grim asked calmly.
"Me."
The word carried weight — mechanical, reverberating, but undeniably human in its arrogance.
The female construct gasped.
"Engriel, no! You can't—" she stopped herself, covering her mouth, realizing she'd just revealed his name.
Grim's eyes widened. "Engriel? Is that your name? So they have names huh?, interesting"he said intrigued
Engriel glared at her, then back at Grim. "Names are meaningless to those who can't comprehend divinity."
"Divinity?" Grim's tone turned cold. "You're a product of my system. Don't mistake that for godhood."
"Your system?" Engriel stepped forward, the earth cracking beneath him. "You think this belongs to you? That we belong to you? You couldn't even comprehend the code that binds our existence!"
Grim's aura surged — a deep, burning blue light cutting through the smoke.
"That's enough." He said calmly but with a sense of I'm tired of you blabbering in it.
The air quaked. Even Engriel's glow dimmed momentarily.
The female — now trembling — turned toward Grim, lowering her head.
"Please, forgive him, my lord… He's not himself. He's… angry."
Grim's expression softened slightly. "And your name?"
She hesitated. "…Seraphiel."
"Seraphiel," Grim repeated. "Get him under control before he does something he'll regret."
Engriel's mechanical wings spread wide, glowing with fiery gold.
"Regret? No, Grim. Regret is for the weak."
He drew his sword, a long radiant blade that pulsed with inner fire.
"I will free us from your leash."
Grim's system glowed.
[Authority Command: Override—Initiate.]
But the command failed. The screen flashed red —
[Error: Target resisting control.]
Grim's eyes widened. "You can resist me?"
Engriel smirked, his face illuminated by the molten glow of his core.
"Not for long… but long enough to prove you're no ruler."
The night forest burned with gold and blue light, each beam carving through the air like living lightning. Grim stood surrounded by ruin, staring up at the two massive constructs before him.
His pulse was steady, but his mind spun.
Talking soldiers. Thinking soldiers. One who questions me, and another trying to calm him down. Great… exactly what I needed. Grim said lazily.
"Look, I understand you don't want me to rule you and your trying to look good in front of your girlfriend, (that I bought with my mana) he muttered under tone.
But look, I did a dungeon raid where I had to pretend to be weak and his behind girls and it was so tiring, could we do this another time I really need to rest." He said lazily
Engriel's molten eyes glared back, his mechanical frame gleaming with arrogance and heat. Sparks drifted from his armor like falling stars.
"What is this, 'Grim?,'" Engriel sneered. "Does the idea of being challenged frighten you?"
Grim sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"No. I'm just wondering why everything I summon eventually gives me a headache."
Seraphiel looked at them both, uneasy. "Please… there's no need for this. You two are—"
"Quiet, Seraphiel," Engriel barked, voice booming through the shattered grove. "This is between me and him."
His wings flared open, six radiant blades of light slicing the smoke-filled sky. "You call yourself our ruler, yet you don't even understand what you lead. You sit above us by accident, not by strength. I will change that."
Grim tilted his head slightly, eyes half-lidded in boredom.
"A rebellion? Really? I buy you people to save me work, not add more to it."
That casual tone only fueled Engriel's fury. His core flared hotter, gold turning to white fire.
"You dare mock me!?"
Grim crossed his arms, unmoved.
"You're yelling like a child. And you're not even human."
The ground cracked as Engriel's power spiked. "Take me seriously, Grim!!"
The outburst shook the forest, trees splintering from the sheer resonance of his voice. Seraphiel stepped back in alarm, wings drawn tight.
Grim's eyes opened fully now, and for the first time, his lazy smirk faded. A chill rippled through the clearing. The air itself seemed to dim as his pupils ignited — a brilliant, burning blue that outshone even Engriel's glow.
He uncrossed his arms, mana pressure dropping like a storm.
"You really want to do this?" he asked quietly.
Engriel raised his sword, flames cascading from the blade.
"To the death. The winner becomes the true ruler."
Grim exhaled, the faintest smirk tugging back onto his lips.
"Oh great… just what I wanted. A duel, that sounds like work."
He cracked his neck, shadows swirling around his feet as the system pulsed awake behind him.
"Fine then," he muttered, stepping forward as the forest trembled. "Do whatever you want… but I won't hold back."
Seraphiel's voice trembled in panic—
"Engriel, stop—!"
Too late. The night erupted in blue and gold as both powers clashed in a blinding shockwave.
And in that final flash, Grim's eyes blazed brighter than ever — cold, fierce, and unrelenting.