The Shadow Wolf Cave was a two-hour walk from Millbrook, tucked into the foothills of a mountain the locals called "The Fang."
The name fit. It rose like a giant tooth against the dawn sky.
Mark reached the entrance just as the sun began pulling itself over the horizon—early enough that most adventurers were still asleep, which was exactly the point.
"Ely. Come out."
The shadow at his feet stirred, and Elyndra rose from it like she was surfacing from a lake of ink. Her armor caught the pale morning light. Her sword was already drawn.
"I'm ready, Master."
Mark looked at her, still not used to the way she looked at him.
Probably never going to get used to that.
"The plan is simple. You go in first and eliminate anything that moves. I follow at a safe distance. If there's anything you can't—"
"There will be nothing I can't handle, Master."
"—if there's anything you can't handle," he continued, ignoring the interruption, "you tell me and we retreat. Understood?"
A pause. Brief. Almost offended.
"Understood."
"Good. Let's go."
The cave was exactly what its name implied: dark, damp, and full of wolves.
Regular wolves, shadow wolves, wolves that looked like they'd been sculpted out of solidified black smoke.
None of them lasted more than three seconds against Elyndra.
Mark watched from a safe distance, fascinated and slightly terrified by the efficiency of it. Every movement precise. Every strike lethal. No wasted motion, no hesitation—just quick, clean death, over and over again.
[Shadow Wolf defeated. Experience: 50]
[Shadow Wolf defeated. Experience: 50]
[Shadow Wolf defeated. Experience: 50]
Notifications stacked up in his vision like a slot machine hitting jackpot. In under an hour, he'd accumulated more experience than weeks of Rank F missions would've given him.
[Congratulations! You have reached Level 5]
[New Skill Unlocked: Vital Link (Lv. 1)]
"Vital Link?"
[Vital Link – Level 1]
Type: Support Necromancy
Effect: Creates a sensory link between you and an undead under your control. While active, you perceive what the undead perceives.
Range: 100 meters.
"Useful. Very useful."
"Master." Ely's voice cut through his reading. "There's a chamber ahead. I can feel something… different."
"Different how?"
"Stronger. Much stronger than the wolves."
Mark frowned. According to what Ely had told him the night before, the dungeon boss was a Shadow Alpha Wolf—Rank D+. Powerful by normal standards, but nothing she couldn't handle. Probably.
"Can you deal with it?"
Elyndra turned to look at him, and for just a moment, something crossed her face that looked almost like offense.
"Master, I could level this entire dungeon with one hand tied behind my back." A pause. "That question is insulting."
Right. Legendary warrior ego still fully intact. Good to know.
"Then go ahead. But be careful."
"I am always careful, Master. Your safety is my absolute priority."
She moved toward the boss chamber, and Mark followed at a distance. He activated Vital Link for the first time—and suddenly he could see through her eyes.
It was strange. Like being in two places at once. He could feel the weight of the sword in her grip, the cold of the armor against her skin, the precise echo of her footsteps on stone.
This is incredible. And also very, very weird.
The boss chamber was wide, lit by luminescent crystals embedded in the walls. At the center, a massive creature waited.
The Shadow Alpha Wolf was the size of a horse. Black fur that seemed to drink in the light around it. Red eyes that glowed with something uncomfortably close to intelligence.
When it saw Elyndra, it let out a low growl that made the air itself vibrate.
Elyndra didn't flinch.
"Poor creature," she murmured, almost gently. "You have no idea what you're facing."
The wolf attacked. Fast—shockingly fast for something that size.
Elyndra was faster.
Her sword cut a perfect arc through the air, and the Alpha Wolf's head hit the ground before its body finished the leap.
[Shadow Alpha Wolf defeated. Experience: 500]
[Congratulations! You have reached Level 7]
[Dungeon Cleared. Reward: Shadow Core x1, Alpha Fang x2, 500 gold coins]
Mark stared at the notifications.
"Five hundred gold coins? For one dungeon?"
From what he'd gathered, a Rank F adventurer earned around ten gold coins per mission. He'd just earned the equivalent of fifty missions in a single hour.
This is cheating. This is absolutely cheating. He smiled. I love it.
Elyndra returned to his side, wiping her blade clean with a cloth she produced from somewhere on her person.
"The dungeon is clear, Master. Shall I collect the loot?"
"Yes. Everything."
While Ely moved through the chamber gathering materials, Mark let himself breathe.
The plan was working. Better than expected, honestly. At this pace, ranking up would take weeks instead of months.
I just have to keep it quiet. No one can know about Ely. No one can know I'm basically a fraud.
"Master." Ely's voice—quieter now. "There is something I must tell you."
"What?"
"During the battle… I sensed something. A presence, watching us from the shadows. It left before I could identify it, but—"
A cold feeling moved down Mark's spine.
"Someone was spying on us?"
"It's possible. Or it could have been my perception misfiring. It isn't what it was when I was…" she stopped. "…alive."
Shit. Have we already been spotted? This fast?
"Let's go," Mark said flatly. "Now."
"As you command, Master."
Elyndra dissolved back into his shadow, and Mark left the dungeon at a pace that was definitely not running but was not entirely not running either.
"Paranoia," he muttered to himself. "Just paranoia. No one knows anything. Everything is fine."
But the feeling of being watched followed him all the way back to Millbrook.
...
...
...
The following days settled into a routine.
Leave before dawn. Pick a dungeon, always a different one, always the farthest options to avoid being seen. Wait while Ely dismantled everything inside. Collect the loot. Go home. Repeat.
[Current Level: 15]
[Current Rank: F]
[Skills: Wake Up (Lv. 3), Consciousness Modification (Lv. 1), Vital Link (Lv. 2), Aura of Death (Lv. 1)]
One week. That's all it had taken to reach a level most adventurers spent months grinding toward.
It should feel better than it does.
The problem was that people were starting to notice.
"Hey. You."
Mark was crossing the guild hall when a hand landed on his shoulder—heavy, deliberate. He turned.
Burly adventurer. Arms like tree trunks. The specific expression of someone who had decided, before opening their mouth, that they didn't like him.
"The necromancer," the man said. Not a question.
"Yes?"
"I've been hearing things. They say you've been clearing dungeons alone. Rank D dungeons."
"And?"
"And you're Rank F." He stepped closer, eating into Mark's personal space. "A Rank F necromancer. So how the hell are you clearing Rank D dungeons by yourself?"
Mark had prepared for this question. Had rehearsed it mentally more times than he could count.
"I have my methods."
"Methods." The man's eyes narrowed. "What kind of methods?"
This is getting ugly.
"Necromancers," Mark said, dropping his voice like he was sharing something private, "have advantages in dungeons. Defeated monsters can be… repurposed."
Not exactly a lie. Just an extraordinarily partial truth.
The adventurer's expression shifted—disgust layered over reluctant curiosity.
"You use monster corpses?"
"Something like that."
"That's…" he searched for the word. "Disgusting."
"It works."
The man grunted. No argument, but the dissatisfaction was obvious. He leaned in one last time.
"You'd better not be doing anything strange, necromancer. I'll be watching you."
He left.
Mark stood very still until his footsteps faded.
Too close. Way too close.
Master. Ely's voice surfaced in his mind, calm and precise. Do you wish for me to take care of him?
"Take care of—? No, Ely. We are not killing anyone."
But he threatened your safety. I cannot allow—
"Ely." Mark kept his voice low and even. "We do not kill people. That is not something we do. Understood?"
Silence. Then:
…Understood, Master. But if you change your mind—
"I won't."
He walked out of the guild and stood in the street, breathing in the cold morning air.
I modified her to be loyal and devoted. I didn't stop to think about what that actually meant. He stared at the cobblestones. She would kill someone. Without hesitation. Without remorse. And part of her genuinely doesn't understand why I'd have a problem with that.
It was terrifying.
And on some dark, uncomfortable level he absolutely refused to examine too closely—
—it was also flattering.
I'm a terrible person, he thought.
But he didn't have time for an existential crisis. He had dungeons to clear, a rank to raise, and an increasingly suspicious guild full of people who were watching him.
Tomorrow, the Crypt of the Fallen. Rank C. Ely should handle it easily. And after that—
"Mark!"
He turned.
The guild receptionist was jogging toward him, and for the first time since he'd met her, the boredom on her face had been replaced by something else entirely.
Urgency.
"What is it?"
"You have a summons." She held out a sealed envelope. "From the City Council."
Mark took it. His hands felt suddenly, inexplicably cold.
"The Council? Why?"
"I don't know." She glanced at the envelope, then back at him. "But when the Council summons someone…"
She didn't finish the sentence.
She didn't need to.
Mark broke the seal and read.
"Mark, Rank F Adventurer, Class: Necromancer:
You are hereby required to appear before the City Council of Millbrook tomorrow at noon to answer questions regarding your recent activities.
Attendance is mandatory. Failure to appear will be considered an admission of guilt.
Signed,
Lord Vance, President of the Council"
He read it twice. Three times. Searching for some clue about what they actually knew.
Found nothing.
This is bad.
This is very, very bad.
Master. Ely's voice in his mind, quiet and careful. What is happening?
Mark folded the letter slowly and put it in his pocket.
"We have a problem, Ely," he said, barely above a whisper. "A very big problem."