"****."
[Cursed language deleted.]
'****.'
[Cursed language deleted.]
"…Wow," Theo muttered, staring at the screen. "It deletes my thoughts too."
He leaned closer to the red interface floating in front of him.
"What are you?"
[I'm merely an assistant sent by my Father to help you complete your mission! ^o^ ]
Theo's eye twitched.
Annoying—yes.
But useful? Maybe.
He couldn't deny it. Something like this could help him survive. Or at the very least, keep him from dying horribly.
"…So—" Theo cleared his throat, eyes lighting up with cautious hope.
"Am I going to receive some grand power or something?"
Silence.
The light in his eyes dimmed as he let out an awkward laugh.
"…Okay. Then maybe just a small buff?"
He rubbed his hands together like a scheming servant.
He knew what was coming.
As the heir of the Valemont House, he would be sent on monster raids. And those raids weren't a game. People died in them. Often.
Without power, he wouldn't last long.
But the system remained silent.
"**** you, you ************ **** yourself!"
[Cursed language deleted.]
…
Theo grabbed his hair roughly, then let go with a frustrated groan.
"I forgot I'm literally being punished for writing this ****** novel."
[Cursed language deleted.]
"Fine," he snapped. "I don't need you."
He turned away—
And the screen flashed again.
[Task: Call upon the name of the Lord.]
[Condition: Honesty.]
"Huh?"
Theo stared, then scoffed.
"Are you serious?"
"To **** with that."
He dismissed the task without a second thought.
If that stupid system thought it could toy with him, it was wrong.
He would survive on his own.
—
—
'…That's what I thought. But can I really survive this?'
Theo's stomach churned as his gaze locked onto the man standing before him.
Silver-white, slightly wavy hair, and pale grey eyes.
Large hands marked with scars that contradicted his refined, almost gentle features.
There was no doubt about it.
Grand Master Eryx Beaumont.
The only commoner blessed with magic powerful enough to stand against nobles. Through sheer strength alone, he had risen through the ranks—earning the title of Grand Master and becoming the commander of the Holy Order.
"Identify yourself," snapped the priest beside Theo. "Can't you see the Cardinal is waiting?"
Standing next to higher authority had clearly given the petty priest some courage. Though it vanished instantly as Eryx's cold gaze flicked toward him.
The priest stiffened.
Eryx then turned to Theo, and stepped closer.
Too close.
"Eryx Beaumont."
His presence loomed, his height towering Theo as he looked down at him with detached indifference.
"One piece of advice," Eryx said coldly.
"Don't interfere."
Then he walked away—as if nothing had happened.
Only then did Theo realize he'd been holding his breath.
"T-That imbecile commoner!" the priest shouted—only after Eryx disappeared from sight.
As expected.
His background did not matter.
Everyone feared the Grand Master.
'…Atta boy', Theo thought approvingly.
'That's the cool character I created.'
Even though his authority had been challenged, Theo couldn't help but feel excited.
He wanted to see Eryx in action.
—
—
The dungeon portal hovered above the ground like a wound torn into the air.
Dark blue—not bright, not inviting.
The kind of blue found in the deepest parts of the ocean, where light forgot how to exist.
Its surface churned slowly, layers of shadow folding into one another as if space itself were being stirred. Thin veins of dull silver light pulsed within it, appearing and vanishing like drowned stars.
No warmth radiated from it.
Instead, the air around the portal felt heavy—pressing against the chest, carrying the unsettling sensation of being watched.
Holy sigils placed around it glowed uneasily.
Their light bent inward, warped at the edges, as though the portal were drinking their radiance rather than being repelled by it.
Standing too close dulled sound.
Voices softened.
Footsteps faded.
Even prayers seemed to hesitate before reaching its surface.
'Here I go…'
Theo clenched his fist and stepped forward.
This dungeon would decide the rest of his fate.
It wasn't a doorway.
It was an invitation—
One that didn't care whether you accepted it or not.
—
TO BE CONTINUED