In a Hard-grade Dungeon, a figure darted through the shadows, daggers flashing as they cut through the oversized jaguar-type creatures prowling the depths. One after another, the beasts fell beneath his blades, their bodies collapsing before they even registered the fatal strikes.

  His figure flickered, shifting in and out of the darkness, making him impossible for his prey to track. Every step, every attack, was calculated—disorienting his enemies while ensuring they never saw where the next strike would come from.

  Soon, he arrived at the final chamber.

  There, standing atop a jagged rock formation, was the Shadowbane Leopard—the dungeon’s boss. Its deep black fur shimmered unnaturally, its body half-melded into the shadows around it. Unlike the lesser creatures, this one exuded danger, its piercing eyes locked onto the intruder with a predatory gleam.

  Nyx, leader of Shadow Veil, rolled his shoulders, twirling his daggers between his fingers as he sized up the beast.

  “Tsk,” he clicked his tongue, already seeing the difficulty ahead.

  A dungeon boss wasn’t an opponent to be taken lightly—

  And this one had definitely earned its title.

  “Tsk,” the figure clicked his tongue in frustration, forced to cancel his attack mid-motion as a massive claw swiped at where he had just been.

  He barely managed to twist his body in time, slipping into the shadows once again—his form vanishing as if he had never been there.

  For what felt like the hundredth time, he reappeared at a new angle, daggers poised to strike—only for the Shadowbane Leopard to react with terrifying speed. Unlike the lesser creatures he had effortlessly cut down before, this boss was different.

  Its body merged seamlessly with the darkness, shifting unpredictably. It didn’t just move through the shadows—it was the shadows.

  Nyx, leader of Shadow Veil, had been locked in this battle for over an hour.

  And still, neither side had found a clear advantage.

  On the sidelines, two pairs of eyes gleamed with amusement as they observed the battle unfold.

  The two figures sat casually, feet dangling over the edge of a rocky outcrop, swinging back and forth as if they weren’t in the presence of a dungeon boss capable of ripping through shadows and flesh alike.

  Each clash of blades and claws was met with their lazy commentary.

  “Clang, clang. Swipe, swipe.”

  The first one mimicked the sounds of the battle, their voice playful and detached.

  “Do you think he’ll die?” the second asked, tilting their head as if genuinely considering the possibility.

  “Maybe,” the first replied, shrugging. “He did beg us to come here and help him.”

  “Do you think his body would be in good enough condition to loot if he does?”

  “Depends. If he gets torn apart, we’ll have to scrape up the pieces. But if he just bleeds out, it shouldn’t be too bad—”

  “Can you two be quiet and stop making plans on what to do with my corpse!?”

  Nyx’s voice snapped through the darkness, his frustration clear.

  But the two figures only giggled, entirely unbothered.

  On the sidelines, the twin sisters—Mira and Lillian, known as the Eclipse Sisters—watched the battle unfold with unabashed amusement. Their force alignments remained unknown, shrouded in mystery, yet their presence alone exuded an eerie confidence.

  To them, this was nothing more than a man struggling to tame his oversized kitty—a particularly violent and shadow-infused one, at that.

  As Nyx darted around, his movements flickering between darkness and steel, the sisters continued their casual commentary.

  “Ah, there he goes again, trying so hard.” Mira smirked, tilting her head in mock sympathy.

  “Poor thing,” Lillian added, feigning pity. “I think the kitty’s winning.”

  Nyx ignored them, his frustration mounting. He channeled his Aether, his daggers absorbing the surrounding shadows as he activated his skill. The darkness swirled, coating his blades in a dense, writhing mass of Shadow Aether.

  With a burst of speed, he slashed out.

  For the first time since the fight began—

  Blood spilled.

  The Shadowbane Leopard snarled, a deep wound marking its side.

  The Eclipse Sisters’ smiles widened.

  “Ooooh~ he actually hit it.”

  “Maybe he won’t die after all.”

  Nyx gritted his teeth, barely holding back a curse. Those two were more annoying than the damn dungeon boss.

  But what left Nyx truly unsettled wasn’t just their casual mockery or eerie smiles—it was the way they spoke.

  Each sentence seemed divided between them, yet not in the way most people with a strong connection might finish each other’s thoughts. No, this was something far stranger—almost unnatural.

  One sister would say one word of a sentence.

  The other would say the next word.

  Then they would alternate, back and forth—seamlessly, fluidly, as if they shared the same mind and voice.

  It was the kind of speech that shouldn’t feel natural.

  Yet for them, it did.

  Nyx shivered, dodging another shadowy swipe from the Shadowbane Leopard.

  He had fought against creatures that lurked in the dark, assassins who could kill with a breath’s notice, and dungeon bosses with monstrous power.

  But somehow—

  Those two creeped him out more.

  The reason Nyx requested their help made perfect sense now.

  They called themselves The Eclipse Sisters—a name that wasn’t just for show.

  Like an eclipse, one half was bright, the other dark. One illuminated, the other obscured. One deceived the eyes, the other deceived the mind.

  Their force, Eclipsing Veil, was split between them—Mira, the Solar Mirage, and Lillian, the Lunar Phantasm. Together, they could manipulate perception itself, weaving illusions that bent both light and shadow, a combination Nyx believed might be the key to breaking through the Shadow Bane Leopard’s natural affinity.

  But that belief crumbled in an instant.

  A single mistake—a miscalculated movement too deep into the leopard’s attack range—was all it took.

  With shadow claws the size of boulders, the dungeon boss struck down with crushing force.

  Nyx barely had time to react—his form flickered in and out of the shadows, but the attack was already set in motion.

  The massive claw landed squarely—an execution.

  And just like that—

  His body was torn apart, severed cleanly into multiple pieces.

  The Leopard snarled, satisfied at finally ending its relentless prey.

  But—

  The Eclipse Sisters just laughed.

  And Nyx—

  His voice was laughing with them.

  From the shredded remains of his body—

  A shadow peeled away.

  And just like that—

  He was standing perfectly fine, untouched, right behind the dungeon boss.

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  “Damn,” Nyx muttered. “That almost felt real.”

  The Leopard’s ears flattened.

  Because to it—

  It had been real.

  It still saw the corpse.

  It still smelled the blood.

  It still felt the sensation of claws carving through flesh.

  But the body in front of it—

  That was an illusion.

  An illusion of its own making.

  The Eclipse Sisters had rewritten reality before the Leopard even realized it.

  They didn’t just trick the eyes—

  They tricked the mind.

  And now, the boss monster wasn’t sure which reality was real.

  Nyx grinned. “That’s one hell of a way to keep me alive.”

  Mira and Lillian tilted their heads in unison.

  “You asked for our help,” they spoke in that eerie alternating voice, one word after the other, finishing each other’s sentences.

  “We are only ensuring,” Mira began.

  “That you will not die,” Lillian finished.

  The Leopard hesitated.

  For the first time—

  It felt like it was the one being hunted.

  And the real fight finally began.

  Mira wielded Solar Veil, a force that manipulated light-based illusions. Her presence was warm and radiant, yet it distorted reality, creating mirages and afterimages that made her difficult to track. With a flicker of light, she invoked Phantom Sun, scattering multiple shimmering copies of Nyx across the battlefield, each flickering unpredictably.

  Lillian, on the other hand, commanded Lunar Veil, a force that wove shadow-based hallucinations. Unlike Mira’s brilliance, her presence was cold and ghostly, making her unsettling to perceive. With Phantom Moon, she cloaked herself in a semi-invisibility, not vanishing outright but instead making herself forgotten, slipping from awareness as if she had never been there.

  Together, their forces intertwined, forming the Eclipse Shroud—a field where light and shadow mixed unnaturally. Within this space, perception wavered, enemies struggling to tell what was real and what was deception.

  These two seemingly harmless girls turned out to be the most dangerous beings he had met in this new world.

  "Monsters… truly utter monsters," Nyx thought to himself, a cold chill creeping down his spine.

  If he ever got on their bad side, he wouldn’t even know how he died—literally speaking.

  Back at Kei’s clearing, a loud thud echoed through the space as Talia crashed onto the ground, her breath leaving her in a sharp gasp. The impact sent a few loosened bandages unraveling, a clear sign of how merciless Zeph’s training had become.

  On the side, Kei sat comfortably with several labeled healing salves lined up beside him. Each container was carefully marked with crude etchings, categorizing the effectiveness and properties of his latest concoctions. Some infused with herbal extracts, others tested with Wooloo’s wool for improved absorption.

  Despite their injuries, Talia, Kai, Reese, and Owen forced themselves up, refusing to give in. They resumed their sparring, but it was all too familiar of a sight—none of them could even touch Zeph, let alone land a solid hit.

  The Zephyr Monkey moved effortlessly, redirecting every strike, each attack flowing past him like wind through the trees.

  Watching the struggle, Kei absently dabbed fresh salve onto his own bruised arm, muttering, "Still not as good as potions, but at least it’s something."

  He glanced down at his handwritten notes, comparing the healing rate of different plant-infused mixtures against pure Wooloo-wool compresses.

  His curiosity burned.

  But the amusement of watching their suffering burned just a little brighter.

  “Hey, you guys are doing great. Keep it up.” Kei grinned, as another thud rang out—this time with Kai rolling across the clearing.

  Zeph, ever composed, tilted his head, waiting for them to get back up.

  Kei wasn’t sure who he pitied more—himself, for once willingly training under Zeph, or them, for being stuck in this mess now.

  As they continued to suffer under Zeph’s relentless training, Kei forced himself to do everything with his left hand. Every action, every motion—he refused to rely on his dominant hand.

  Beside him, a newly carved wooden sword rested on the ground.

  Unlike his Gale Fang, this sword was completely plain.

  No special effects.

  No system upgrades.

  Not even a description.

  Just a wooden sword—as basic as it could be.

  Kei had realized something while training. For all the advantages Gale Fang gave him—the sharpness, the wind-enhancing properties, the slight attack boost—it wasn’t him swinging the sword. The effects helped guide his strikes, subtly correcting his form even when he wasn’t aware.

  And if he wanted to truly learn how to wield a sword, he needed to start from zero.

  No external aid. No shortcuts.

  When he carved this sword, he made sure not to let his aether interfere.

  Unlike Gale Fang and his Windblade Staff, he used only his hands and his wood carving tools, stripping away every ounce of pristine aether that usually seeped into his creations.

  Of course, that also meant his first few attempts were complete failures.

  Crude shapes. Poor balance. Some broke before he could even finish carving them.

  The clearing was littered with discarded wooden swords—fractured, chipped, snapped in half from a single swing.

  But after days of trial and error, he finally got the hang of it.

  Now, sitting in front of him was a simple, balanced wooden sword, made entirely from raw effort.

  It had no attack power bonus. No sharp edges or hidden abilities.

  Just a sword—nothing more, nothing less.

  "This is how it should be," Kei thought, flipping the wooden blade in his hand, testing the weight.

  If he was going to learn how to use a sword, he needed to start from the ground up.

  No system assistance.

  No enhancements.

  Just his own two hands, or just his left hand in this case.

  Making sure to check on Talia, Kei carefully applied medical aid to her injuries before returning his gaze to Hachi, Wooloo, and the bear to resume his training.

  These past few days had been invaluable for Reese, Owen, Kai, and Talia. Their abilities had steadily improved, their forms became more refined, and their attacks sharper and more precise.

  But Kei?

  Kei had been on a completely different level.

  His technique with the sword had been evolving at a terrifying pace, his movements growing more fluid, his ability to adapt in combat sharpening with every passing moment.

  Having fought Kaito and observed Owen's fighting style, he used them as references—points of study to understand how others used their blades.

  But their way of fighting wasn't his way.

  Kei had no plans to replicate their styles—it wouldn't suit him.

  Instead, he focused on his own approach, one that flowed with the battle rather than forcing his way through it.

  The bear charged forward, its massive body barreling toward him like a boulder tumbling downhill.

  Kei stepped into the motion, shifting his stance, aiming to redirect the bear’s force rather than meeting it head-on.

  The same principle applied to Hachi and Wooloo, though he failed more often than not.

  But that was fine.

  With how fragile his wooden sword was, he had no choice but to avoid clashing directly, forcing himself to refine his movements rather than relying on brute force.

  And on top of that—he was still using his left hand.

  If he could master this, then switching back to his dominant hand would make everything effortless.

  Still, he grimaced as his fingers tightened around the hilt.

  "I really don’t want to go through the effort of making another damn sword."

  As the thought came to his head, Kei was suddenly yanked forward by an invisible force, his body jerked off balance before he had time to react.

  The only thing he saw?

  White marble horns—gleaming in the sunlight—rushing straight at him.

  “Wooloo, you BITCH—!”

  His voice barely made it out before—

  BANG!

  Kei was launched several meters away, flipping through the air like a discarded ragdoll before crashing into the dirt.

  But even as he tumbled, his onslaught of curses never stopped.

  He raged about Wooloo’s existence, about the sheep’s entire bloodline, and even cursed its ancestors for birthing such a menace.

  Finally skidding to a stop, face-first in the dirt, he groaned in pain.

  And then, through gritted teeth—

  "You know what they do where I was born?” Kei growled, spitting dust out of his mouth. “They cook you in curry sauce—and now I don’t blame them!"

  His words rang out, echoing through the clearing.

  For a second, everyone froze.

  Zeph. Owen. Reese. Kai. Talia.

  They all turned to Kei in stunned silence, blinking at his outburst.

  Meanwhile—

  Wooloo stood victorious.

  Proud. Triumphant.

  Completely unbothered by Kei’s rant.

  Because, quite frankly—

  It couldn't understand a damn word.

  Not wanting to lose out, Kei folded into the wind, his body merging with the currents as he activated Wooloo’s Ebb & Flow Force.

  A pulling force erupted, dragging Wooloo in full force toward him.

  But this time—

  Kei focused on the Tidal and Lunar properties of the force.

  A swirling mass of water coiled around his wooden sword, its presence surging like an encroaching tide. As he slashed forward, the water crashed into Wooloo like an unforgiving wave, soaking the battlefield and turning the ground slick and treacherous beneath them.

  Success.

  But before he could even take a second to relish the moment—

  WHOOSH.

  His instincts screamed as a barrage of needle-like projectiles shot toward him at blinding speeds.

  His feet moved instinctively, weaving through the storm of projectiles, but—

  BANG.

  A jagged, needle-like tail slammed into his ribs, the sheer force sending him soaring backward—

  Even further than Wooloo had.

  His body shot past Kai and the others, their eyes tracking him in shock.

  Then—

  THUD. CRACK.

  He collided violently with the terrain, smashing through trees before finally slamming into a rocky wall with brutal impact. His feet barely managed to plant against the surface, his body tensing to absorb the force as he gritted his teeth in pain.

  He hadn’t even had the chance to glance at his status screen when—

  A system prompt flashed before Kei’s eyes.

  [Scanning...]

  [........]

  [........]

  [........]

  Then—

  [Participant meets the requirements to enter a sealed dungeon.]

  [Commencing activation of the dungeon.]

  Kei blinked. "Huh? I don’t want to do no dungeon." His confusion deepened.

  But then—

  [Error: Unable to absorb participant into the dungeon.]

  [Diagnosing source of error...]

  [.....]

  [.....]

  [Title detected: He Who Denies Fate is preventing forced dungeon absorption.]

  [Title: He Who Denies Fate overrides system commands...]

  [Seeking permission from participant.]

  A new prompt appeared before him.

  [Would you like to enter this Exalted Rank Dungeon? Please note: This dungeon contains the greatest secrets of your planet, and its discoveries may aid in shaping its future.]

  Kei stared at the Yes and No options floating in front of him, his eye twitching.

  "First, I got forcefully dragged into this expanse when I was just minding my business. Then this same system gave me a 'choice' to venture into a new world, only to dump me in a tree—which, by the way, I fell out of. And now you’re trying to pull this nonsense again?"

  He narrowed his eyes at the prompt, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "What’s the point of asking me if I wanna do something if you're just gonna force me anyway?"

  With an exaggerated sigh, he tapped 'No,' fully expecting to be yanked into the dungeon regardless.

  The screen lingered for a moment.

  [.....]

  [.....]

  Then—

  [Understood. This dungeon will remain here. If you ever choose to pursue your world’s secret, feel free to return.]

  Kei stared blankly at the screen. Then—

  Slow, approving claps.

  "Now that's how you respect consent. Good for you, system." He nodded to himself, genuinely impressed.

  Then—

  The pain hit.

  "AGGGHHH—FUCK, MY LEGS. I THINK I HAVE HAIRLINE FRACTURES."

  The others—along with the creatures—had been watching in stunned silence.

  They saw him get slammed into a wall, stay completely motionless, then suddenly clap like an idiot before—

  Screaming in pain.

  They nodded in unison.

  Yep. That reaction made way more sense.