The silence that followed was deafening.
Nick’s body was heavy, his limbs unwilling to move. The last embers of crimson light had faded from his vision, but the heat still lingered beneath his skin—an unfamiliar fire that seemed to coil around his bones. Not burning, not painful—just there. Like a second pulse beneath his skin, thrumming in time with his heartbeat.
He was alive.
Ray was alive.
Her grip tightened on his arm as she slowly lowered him to the ground. He groaned, shifting against her hold. His body felt… weak. Torn, like someone had taken a stencil to his soul.
He forced himself to exhale before reading the notifications.
=Sinbound Flames=
-Passive Skill-
->Mana: N/A
->Rank: 1/100
->Description: All fire-based abilities are tainted by corrupt flames that feed on sin and suffering. The flames cannot be extinguished by conventional means and burn more fiercely against those burdened by guilt, malice, or a history of violence. Targets marked by the First Sin or afflicted by Aura of Bloodlust suffer exponentially increased damage. These flames do not consume the innocent, merely passing over them like a warm breeze.
It is the burden of the sinner to bring an end to sin.
=Heir of Twilight-
-Passive Trait-
->Mana: N/A
->Rank: Mythical
->Description: A being tied to both the light and the dark, existing at the threshold between day and night. Grants enhanced regeneration and resilience in dim light or darkness while slightly dampening holy and unholy influences. When standing under a twilight sky, all attributes receive a moderate increase.
Suffer beneath an unchanging sky for all eternity.
=Keeper of the First Flame=
-Passive Trait-
->Mana: N/A
->Rank: Mythical
->Description: A guardian of a world’s primordial fire, wielding flames that burn with an ancient, inexorable will. Fire-based abilities become stronger and more efficient, and any flame under the Keeper’s command will never wane unless willed to do so. The Keeper cannot be harmed by their own flames and gains resistance to fire-based attacks. Those who dare to steal fire from the Keeper will find their own souls set ablaze.
Even if all else must be lost, the first flame shall remain forevermore.
Nick stared at the text for a long moment. He should have felt something. Awe, maybe. Fear. A sense of triumph.
Instead, all he felt was tired.
His thoughts dragged themselves through the events leading up to this moment—the battle, the gods, Evelyn’s bargain, the truth he still couldn’t fully comprehend.
And beneath it all, a quiet, simmering rage.
His hands curled into fists.
He’d seen them before. Back on Earth.
They weren’t the same, not exactly, but the way they moved, the way they watched—
His teeth clenched.
‘How much of my fight was rigged from the start? How many battles were played out as a joke to the ones sitting above it all?’
He couldn’t let it happen again. For the residents of this world, it had already happened, but for him, this was a fresh start.
He wouldn’t let them take everything away this time.
Nick shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts, forcing himself to focus on the present.
His eyes drifted back to the chamber. The remnants of the battle remained—charred stone, the scent of burnt flesh lingering in the air the distant, fading embers of the flames that had expelled the god…
And there was something else.
The air still felt wrong. Even with the god’s presence banished, something clung to the chamber’s walls—a pressure that refused to fade entirely. Like an afterimage burned into the fabric of the dungeon itself.
He ignored the shiver crawling down his spine.
“Nick?”
He blinked, finally registering the voice.
Lexi.
Her dark eyes locked onto him, unreadable. Not quite wary, not quite trusting. Waiting.
“…You okay?” she asked, hesitant.
He took another breath. “I’m fine.” A pause. Then, a bitter chuckle. “Relatively speaking.”
Ray sighed, standing up and stretching out the stiffness in her limbs. “Good, because I’m about two seconds from passing out, and I’d rather not do that in this creepy-ass dungeon.”
Nick pushed himself upright. His gaze landed on Lexi. She was still tense, her tail bristling slightly.
She hadn’t run.
But that didn’t mean she was going to say, either.
He met her gaze. “Lexi.”
She flinched.
“…Are you coming with us?”
She didn’t answer immediately.
Ray crossed her arms. “You don’t really have anywhere else to go.”
Lexi’s jaw clenched.
Nick watched her carefully. “You don’t have to decide now,” he said, his voice even, steady. “But if you’re waiting for an invitation, you already have it.”
Her ears twitched. She hesitated. Then, finally, she spoke.
“Why?”
Nick frowned. “Why what?”
“You’re a human. People like you don’t help people like me.”
Ray let out an irritated huff. “What kind of dumbass question is that?”
“It’s not dumb,” Lexi replied softly. “It’s something I need to know.”
Nick sighed, running a hand through his hair. He took in the way her shoulders tensed, how she refused to meet their eyes.
She was struggling.
‘Why do I always find myself in these situations?’ he wondered.
“Because without my help you’ll probably die.”
Lexi’s lips pressed together in a thin line. “I should have.”
Ray scoffed. “Bullshit.”
The beastkin slave let out a bitter laugh. “Is it?”
She released a shaky breath, looking down at her chains. “My people fought. They died. The ones who were strong enough to win escaped. The ones who weren’t…”
Ray started to interrupt but paused when Nick gestured for her to stop.
Lexi’s face contorted, drawing a fierce scowl across.
“I fought,” Lexi continued, her voice tight with hatred. “I wasn’t strong enough.”
There was a brief pause.
Then, finally, Nick spoke. “Get stronger.”
Her ears twitched. Her fingers curled against her chains.
He kept his voice even. “You’re still alive. That means you still have a choice. You can stay weak, or you can fight for a different ending.”
‘Ah…’
It was really that simple. His own words struck a bitter chord.
‘What was I doing for the past month?’
Lexi stared at him, something flickering behind her dark eyes. Slowly—hesitantly—she took a step forward.
“…I don’t trust you,” she admitted. “But you’re right. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
Ray grinned. “That’s good enough for now.”
Nick exhaled, dragging his gaze across the ruined chamber one last time. The battle was over, but the dungeon wasn’t finished yet. Even clearing a pseudo-dungeon, there should have been loot if they beat the final boss, but there was nothing like that in sight.
“We should keep moving,” he said.
Ray blinked. “The exit’s that way.” She jabbed a thumb toward the passage ahead.
“No, we’re not leaving yet. There’s still the rest of the dungeon to check.”
Ray’s eyes widened with surprise. “You, of all people, want to keep exploring after a fight like that?”
“I want to keep exploring because of a fight like that. We went through hell, so we might as well get some good loot as a reward.”
Ray scoffed, but a smirk tugged at her lips. “You’re actually making sense for once.”
Nick turned to Lexi. “You good?”
She hesitated, then nodded. “…Yeah.”
But before they left…
His eyes landing on Jantzen’s body.
The remains of the so-called Priest of Strength still lay crumpled on the stone floor, his ornate robes stained with blood.
He pushed himself to his feet with a wince. Ray glanced at him but didn’t comment. He knelt beside the corpse, searching through Jantzen’s belongings with methodical efficiency.
If the bastard carried anything useful, he wasn’t about to let it go to waste.
A handful of gold coins, a small pouch of what seemed to be dried herbs, a finely crafted dagger with an intricate hilt—likely ceremonial, given how little wear the blade had. Of course, he also took the decorative sword that was sheathed at the fat priest’s waist. He found an adventurer license and pocketed it.
Then, his fingers brushed something else.
A book.
Leather-bound, well-worn, yet humming with faint magical energy.
Nick narrowed his eyes. A prayer book? A spellbook? A journal? He couldn’t tell at a glance, but something about it felt important.
He flipped through the pages briefly—most of it was indecipherable at first glance, written in an elaborate script. He’d have to look at it later. He opened the door of his infinite wardrobe and tossed the items inside, then unsummoned it.
Nick straightened, stretching out the stiffness in his limbs. His gaze landed on the pathway that led further into the dungeon.
“Alright, let’s see what’s left in this place.”
The air in the cavern was thick with the scent of dust and decay. Faint traces of magical residue lingered in the walls, like whispers of a power that had once ruled this place. The passage ahead was darker—quieter. If there were still secrets left in this dungeon, they lay beyond that threshold.
His footsteps echoed as they moved forward, leaving behind the ruins of the throne room.
The passage twisted like a gnarled root, narrowing into jagged corridors of stone. The air felt thick, stagnant, the silence pressing in from all sides. Unlike the chamber behind them, where the battle had left a ruinous mark, this section of the dungeon was eerily untouched. No signs of struggle, no corpses, no discarded weapons.
Nick moved cautiously, his eyes sweeping the surroundings for anything out of place. The dim glow of mysterious dungeon light filtered through layers of moss, casting the rock in uneven greenish hues, making the shadows seem deeper than they should be.
“This place is weird…” Ray muttered, rolling her shoulders. The shaft of her broken halberd rested across her shoulder, looking more like a makeshift club than a weapon. “It feels like it wants us to be here.”
Lexi’s ears twitched, her chains faintly rattling as she hugged them closer. “There are more monsters here,” she whispered. “I can smell them.”
Nick halted. “How many?”
“A lot,” she said. “But they aren’t moving. They’re just… sitting there. Like they’re waiting for something.”
‘Waiting?’
His mind flashed back to the mysterious old man who interfered with their first fight in this dungeon, and then their encounter with the god…
‘What is going on in this place?’
He exhaled slowly. “Keep your guard up.”
They pressed on, moving in measured steps.
The first evidence of their enemy came in the form of a carving.
A massive, crude mural gouged into the dungeon walls, stretching across the corridor’s curve. Unlike the usual dungeon carvings, this one had structure.
Nick’s eyes narrowed as he traced the images.
Figures gathered in a circle, hunched and desparate, hands raised toward an unseen force. A fire blazed at the center of the image, wild and consuming, but instead of destruction, the next part of the mural showed something different.
A figure kneeling before the fire, its arms raised—not in pain, but in worship.
“Is this… goblin work?” Ray muttered.
“I’m not sure,” Nick replied as he ran his fingers across the stone.
Lexi shifted uncomfortably, looking over her shoulder. “We should go.”
Nick pulled his hand back from the stone, taking one last look at the strange images before moving deeper.
After another few minutes of walking, they encountered the next chamber.
The new chamber was vast—a pit at its center stretched wide, bones scattered in tight, deliberate piles, arranged purposefully. Some were stacked in spiraling towers, others set into strange geometric shapes—patterns that should have meant nothing, but sent a strange unease curling in Nick’s gut.
Above, a jagged rock formation jutted down like the fangs of a maw, yet from a certain angle, it resembled something else—an eye, uneven and watchful, carved into the stone as if staring straight through them.
Nick barely had time to process the layout before a hobgoblin silently lunged from the shadows.
Fast…!
He twisted—just barely dodging a war axe that cleaved through the space where his head had been. The force of the swing split the ground where he’d stood, sending stone shards flying.
But a second goblin was waiting for him when he dodged. It raised its spiked club to strike…
“Shit—!”
Ray reacted instantly, slipping under the attack with her broken halberd twisting in her grip. She brought the shaft up in a brutal strike, cracking it against the hobgoblin’s throat.
A sickening crunch echoed as the creature staggered back, choking.
Nick surged forward, fire blooming in his palm, twisting and warping space as it was passively imbued with the effects of Sinbound Flames. The hobgoblin flinched, its body igniting in violet flames.
The flames consumed it.
Its body writhed.
But it did not scream.
Even as its flesh burned, blackening, even as it collapsed, the hobgoblin’s eyes never left Nick’s. No agony. No rage. Just silence.
=You have defeated (1) Hobgoblin=
=You gain 0.02 skill points=
=Current skill points: 1.02=
His stomach twisted.
‘What the hell is wrong with this place?’ he complained.
The first hobgoblin charged, this time heading straight for Ray, low and fast as it raised its axe to deliver a devastating blow.
She turned, sidestepping the strike as she slammed her weapon into its leg, shattering the knee. The beast collapsed, yet it continued to stare at them. No pain. No rage. Nothing.
Nick drew his sword and severed the goblin’s head.
=You have defeated (1) Hobgoblin=
=You gain 0.02 skill points=
=Current skill points: 1.04=
All the way until their final moments, neither goblin made a single sound.
“What the hell…” he mumbled.
As they moved deeper into the chamber, the sheer weight of the silence pressed against them like an unseen force. The scattered bones were deliberate, structured, almost sacred in their placement. Nick scanned over the skeletal remains, his unease growing as he realized a pattern.
Goblins.
Ribcages curled inward as if shielding something, skulls stacking in mournful symmetry…
The bones were overwhelmingly goblin in origin. The occasional humanoid remains were present, but they were vastly outnumbered, drowned beneath the sheer number of goblin corpses.
A massacre.
A graveyard.
The pit in the center was the worst of it. The remains at the bottom were packed so tightly that they fused with the earth, forming a bed of ancient suffering. Jagged weapons—rusted beyond use—jutted from the pit like markers of forgotten violence, their hilts wrapped in tattered scraps of cloth, some still stained with old blood. Some of the blades were shattered, others still embedded in cracked skulls.
“This isn’t just a dungeon,” Nick muttered. His voice came out steadier than he felt. “It’s a grave.”
Ray, for once, had nothing to say. She stared down at the pit, her expression unreadable. Even Lexi, who had kept herself tense and wary this whole time, seemed shaken.
“If its a grave…” Lexi finally spoke, voice quiet. “Then who buried them?”
‘Was it the old man? Or maybe the god?’
Nick didn’t have a definitive answer.
The path ahead curved upward along the rim of the pit, the ceiling narrowing slightly as they entered what felt like an ancient passage. Faint traces of past firelight clung to the stone—scorched streaks of soot staining the walls in long, jagged lines. This place had been burned before.
As they continued, the air became heavier, denser, like stepping into the aftermath of something unfinished. The silence was just an absence of sound—it was thick with expectation, pressing in on them from all sides.
Then they arrived.
At the far end of the chamber, there was a door.
Not a crude, makeshift barrier like the others they had passed. This one was different. The stone frame was carved with precise, ancient glyphs, their shapes intricate yet weathered. A thick, slab of metal barred the way, reinforced with chains that were blackened, rusted—but still intact.
Ray stared at the glyphs carved into the frame with a dazed expression.
“Sanctuary…” she read aloud.
“You can read these?” Nick asked.
“…Yes?” she tilted her head quizzically. “Its even easier than reading English…”
Nick stepped forward, brushing his fingers over the cold metal. The moment his skin made contact, a faint hum pulsed beneath his fingertips—a residual energy, clinging to the door like a dying ember. It was sealed.
Lexi shifted behind him. “It feels… safe?” she mumbled as if confused by her own feelings.
Ray frowned. “If this whole dungeon is a grave, then what is this place supposed to be?”
Nick didn’t have the answers, but he figured they would be able to find them if they got inside.
He examined the chains again, then turned toward Ray. “Can you break these?”
She cracked her knuckles, already stepping forward. “Let’s find out.”
With a sharp motion, she raised the broken shaft of her halberd and brought it down onto the chains. A loud clang echoed through the chamber, followed by the sound of metal fracturing.
The seal cracked.
And from the other side of the door, something stirred.
Then—soft, almost resigned—a sigh.
Project Knightfall 