When I finally made my way out of the dungeon, the cold, stale air of the Echoing Caverns vanished like it had never existed, replaced by the crisp bite of evening breeze brushing against my skin. Overhead, the sky stretched wide—deep violet, streaked with the fading glow of sunset just beyond the treetops.
I turned, watching as the portal flickered one last time. Its edges warped and shimmered, then collapsed inward with a faint snap—gone.
Like the dungeon had never been there at all.
A soft chime echoed in my ears as a familiar system notification slid into view.
 
[Congratulations on completing the Dungeon: The Echoing Caverns. You have earned 3500 XP (+700XP Bonus)]
 
I blinked.
Okay… yeah. That was a solid payout.
I opened my status window, fingers moving on instinct—and there it was.
Felix Ravensburg – Level 15
I just stared at it for a second, the glowing text hovering in front of me like some surreal trophy.
Level 15.
A week ago, I was Level 1. A week ago, I couldn’t even hold a dagger without it feeling like I was LARPing with kitchen knives. Now?
I’d survived a group dungeon. Uncovered a hidden dungeon. Cleared one on my own. Killed monsters I didn’t even have words for.
I was climbing faster than most Chosen.
Which should’ve felt incredible.
But instead?
Cassian’s voice surfaced, uninvited. That smug, condescending smirk etched into my memory like a scar I couldn’t scrub off.
“You’ve been flagged. And now you’re mine. It’s only a matter of time.”
I swallowed hard, the edge of that memory taking the shine off the level-up.
I wasn’t just getting stronger.
I was drawing attention.
The kind of attention you didn’t want in a world ruled by the system.
Cassian hadn’t been bluffing. If he thought I was a threat, then the system probably did too. And that meant more eyes, more danger, more everything.
I sighed, dragging a hand down my face. “Yeah, yeah. Existential dread later. Food now.”
Because honestly, if I was going to spiral, I might as well do it with a belly full of food.
I pulled up the Fast Travel menu, thumb hovering over my home point—
Then something flickered at the edge of my vision.
An envelope icon.
I frowned.
A message?
I paused, already bracing for it to be bad news. Because really, after the week I’d had…
What was one more problem?
 
The moment I focused on the envelope icon, it pulsed once—then unfolded into a system message.
 
[From: Thorne]
Need a fourth for a group dungeon. It’s me and a couple of friends. Would rather go with someone I already know than a random. You in?
 
I stared at the message, feeling my brain screech to a halt.
A group dungeon.
My fingers hovered over the response tab, unmoving. A dozen memories hit at once—most of them awful.
Last time I stepped into one of these? I was dead weight. The tag-along nobody who barely survived.
Rez and Maria hadn’t.
My stomach twisted.
I’d gotten stronger since then. Faster. Smarter. But was it enough?
Every dungeon I entered was another roll of the dice. Every power I gained made me more visible. More flagged.
Cassian’s voice echoed in the back of my skull like a bad song on repeat.
You’ve been flagged. And now you’re mine.
He wasn’t bluffing. The more I leveled, the closer I came to whatever spotlight the system had decided to shine on me.
And yet…
I clenched my jaw.
I was tired of being afraid.
I’d been surviving by instinct, bouncing from fight to fight like a cornered animal. But hiding wouldn’t save me.
Avoiding dungeons wouldn’t make Cassian disappear. Wouldn’t make me stronger. Wouldn’t make me ready.
And I needed to be ready.
I stared at the message, spine straightening as I typed out my reply.
 
[Message Sent to Thorne]
I’m in. Where do you want to meet?
 
The answer came fast.
 
[From: Thorne]
Good. We’ll meet near the dungeon entrance in the morning. I’ve attached the portal location. See you then.
 
A soft chime sounded as a notification appeared, confirming my map had updated.
I pulled it up—sure enough, a new icon glowed on the edge of the nearby zone.
A green portal.
 
This time, I wasn’t walking in blind.
This time, I wasn’t going to be carried.
This time, I’d earn my place.
I flexed my neck, closed the interface, and let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
One night to rest.
One night to get my head straight.
And in the morning?
I’d prove just how far I’d come.
I opened the Fast Travel menu, blinking against the gentle shimmer of the interface. My current safe point hovered at the top of the list.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
 
[Fast Travel to Bedroom?]
[Confirm: Yes / No]
 
For a second, I just stood there.
A week ago, none of this was real.
Dungeons were just rumors. The system was some distant thing other people talked about. I was just some nobody kid trying not to fall apart.
Now?
I’d bled. I’d fought. I’d watched people die.
I had an artifact the system didn’t understand and a target on my back I didn’t ask for.
And yeah, maybe Cassian was right.
Maybe I had been flagged for a reason.
But if the system thought I was just going to roll over and wait for it to crush me?
It didn’t know me at all.
I wasn’t done.
I was done running.
Done hiding.
I was going to survive.
And the next time Cassian looked at me?
He wasn’t going to see some scared Shadowborn kid trying to disappear.
He was going to see me coming.
I took a slow breath, squared my shoulders—
And hit [Yes].
The world bent inward.
Everything snapped to black.
And then—
I was gone.
 



I stood at the edge of the cliff, arms crossed, staring out over the endless sea of green that stretched to the horizon.
The forest below was still wrapped in morning mist, treetops soft and hazy like someone had painted the world in watercolor. The sky overhead was a pale, sleepy blue—muted, still waking up—like the kind of morning that makes you want to breathe a little slower. Just take it all in.
It was peaceful.
Which, of course, meant something was probably about to try and kill me.
The portal shimmered beside me, its deep green glow pulsing steadily at the cliff’s edge. It looked wrong here—like someone had slashed a hole in the world and forgot to patch it. Out of place. Too sharp for a scene this quiet.
A Group dungeon.
I’d agreed to this. There was no backing out now.
Besides, I was stronger now. Faster. Sharper. Better equipped than I’d ever been.
But was I ready?
That was a different question.
The last time I walked into one of these, I was baggage. A tagalong. Just another pair of boots taking up space while the Acolytes lit everything on fire.
And last time?
Two people didn’t make it out.
My chest tightened. I swallowed hard and shoved the memory aside. Not because it didn’t matter—but because I couldn’t let it stop me.
This time was different.
I’d trained. I’d leveled. I’d survived more than my share of nightmare encounters.
And now?
Now it was time to prove it.
I looked over at the portal again, then down the narrow dirt path winding up the cliffside.
Thorne and her crew hadn’t arrived yet.
Which meant—for just a few minutes longer—I could pretend I was just a guy soaking in the sunrise. Not a Chosen. Not hunted. Not marked by the system.
Just breathing.
 
The walk up had been quiet. No monsters, no interruptions. Just the soft chirp of morning birdsong and the wind threading its way through the trees like it had somewhere better to be.
Almost enough to forget where I was heading.
Almost.
But I wasn’t walking in blind this time.
Before I left this morning, I spent the two talent points burning a hole in my pocket. After the last group dungeon—after what happened to Rez and Maria—I knew exactly what I needed.
Power.
I wasn’t going to be the weak link again. Not the guy others had to protect. Not the dead weight dragging the team down.
I was here to fight.
And that meant hitting harder.
 
Echoing Blades (15% Guile | 30 second Cooldown)
For 5 seconds, each dagger attack leaves a shadowy afterimage, striking again for 20% of the original damage.
 
This one was nasty. In the best possible way.
For five full seconds, every strike I made got a shadow echo—an afterimage that followed just behind the original, copying the exact motion a heartbeat later.
It reminded me of Daggerstorm—how the second blade always trailed just behind the first. Only this wasn’t limited to thrown attacks. This was everything. Every slash, stab, sweep—each one backed by a ghost version of itself.
I tested it just outside my place, aiming for the bark of an old tree. My first strike landed clean, and right behind it, the afterimage carved a second gash, perfectly mirroring the first. It was like watching myself in a slightly delayed reflection—only sharper. Meaner.
For five seconds, I had a bunch more attack output. In a real fight?
That was an eternity.
I caught myself grinning. “Yeah. That’ll do.”
 
Specter’s Rend (20% Guile | 20 second Cooldown)
A spinning dagger strike that slashes all enemies within 6 feet, dealing shadow-infused damage. Each enemy hit restores 2% Guile.
 
This one was flashier than I usually liked.
I was a precision guy. One enemy at a time, clean and quiet. Specter’s Rend was not that.
But I tried it anyway.
I found a back alley which had a couple of busted crates lined up like dummy targets. The second I activated it, something shifted—my footing, my posture, my balance. My body just knew how to move.
And then I spun.
Daggers lashed out in a wide arc, shadows trailing behind them like black smoke. The crates? Obliterated. Splinters everywhere.
It was a whirlwind of cuts and motion, all instinct.
And best part? For every enemy hit, I got Guile back. Like the system was actively encouraging me to hit as many things as possible.
I was starting to believe I might actually make it through this thing without dying horribly. Which, for me, was real progress.
Of course, that wasn’t the end of it.
I’d spent my Shadowborn talent points—leaned into combat, sharpened my edge—but there was one more thing I hadn’t checked in on. The one piece of this whole mess that still felt like a total mystery.
 
The ????? tree.
 
The artifact’s weird, glitch-ridden talent line. No branching paths. No choices. Just a straight shot of “here’s what we’re giving you, enjoy the chaos.”
After clearing The Echoing Caverns, I was pretty sure it had something new for me.
I pulled up the hidden menu.
The interface flickered like it always did—almost like the system didn’t quite know what to do with it. Then it stabilized.
Two unspent points.
I hovered over the first talent.
 
Surveyor
Your map now reveals terrain details and elevation, allowing you to navigate with greater ease. Paths, trails, and hidden routes appear more clearly.
 
I blinked. “Huh. Handy.”
Cartographer had already made exploration a joke. Auto-updating my map? Tracking landmarks I hadn’t even noticed? That was already borderline OP.
But this?
Now I had topography. Slopes. Ridges. Elevation lines. Hidden paths I never would’ve spotted.
I opened my map—and watched the whole thing shift. It was still me, still the same area… but it looked like I’d upgraded from crayon scribbles to a full-on tactical display.
“…Yeah,” I muttered. “A more detailed map was so much nicer than I thought it would be.”
Next?
 
Endless Stride
You become less fatigued from long-distance travel and can walk or run longer without slowing down.
 
At first glance, it didn’t look like much. No fancy combat perks or passive boosts that screamed “heroic moment incoming.”
But I thought about how much time I’d spent running lately.
Hiking through dense woods. Climbing hills. Booking it away from things with too many teeth. Every damn day felt like a survival marathon.
So yeah. The more I looked at it, the more I realized this wasn’t some niche quality-of-life thing.
This was freedom.
More distance. Less exhaustion. Fewer breaks. More chances to run when running was the only option left.
I accepted the upgrade, feeling a low thrum of energy ripple through my legs, subtle and steady.
I exhaled, rolling my shoulders as everything settled in.
New combat skills. Map enhancements. Travel buffs.
Every piece made me just a little more confident.
Whatever I was becoming, whatever this artifact was unlocking—I was alone on this path.
And somehow?
That didn’t feel scary anymore.
It felt like power.
 
I heard voices from beyond the treeline.
I tensed, hand drifting instinctively to my daggers as I slipped behind a nearby tree.
Probably Thorne and her crew.
Probably.
Or maybe trouble.
And honestly? Assuming the worst usually meant I lived longer.
The voices got clearer. Laughter, footsteps, the sound of easy confidence. Soon, three figures emerged from the trees, heading toward the portal like they owned the place.
Thorne walked a half-step ahead, her red hair tied back into a ponytail.
Beside her, a tall guy with a warhammer slung across his back, moving with the kind of casual readiness that said, yes, I know how to use this, thanks for asking.
And last, a woman in light robes, staff in hand, her steps smooth, practiced. No wasted motion.
So. Her friends?
Great.
I stepped out from cover, waving as I did.
Thorne spotted me instantly. Her mouth tugged into a knowing smirk. “You were hiding, weren’t you?”
My face heated. “I was scouting,” I said, crossing my arms like that somehow gave it tactical credibility.
Her smirk deepened. “Sure you were.”
The warhammer guy—who I was now mentally calling Hammer Bro until proven otherwise—gave me a slow once-over.
“He always this jumpy?”
Thorne shrugged. “He’s cautious.”
I narrowed my eyes. “That’s another way of saying smart.”
“Uh-huh,” she said, clearly amused.
I cleared my throat, doing my best to reclaim whatever dignity I had left. “So, are we gonna stand around critiquing my survival instincts, or are you going to introduce me?”
Thorne sighed and gestured toward the staff-wielding woman. “This is Calla.”
Calla nodded politely, green eyes sharp but not unfriendly. “Felix, right? Thorne mentioned you.”
I blinked. “Oh. Uh—good things?”
She tilted her head, lips quirking. “Let’s say she mentioned you.”
I shot Thorne a look. She was suddenly very interested in the trees.
Suspicious.
“And this,” Thorne continued, gesturing to Hammer Bro, “is Garrick.”
He nodded once. “Shadowborn, huh?”
“Yup,” I said. “That a problem?”
Garrick shrugged. “Only if you vanish mid-fight and leave us hanging.”
Fair.
I forced a grin. “I’ll do my best not to be a dramatic disappointment.”
Thorne groaned, rubbing her temples. “Are we done? Can we please get moving before I regret inviting any of you?”
Garrick adjusted the warhammer on his back, already looking bored. “Let’s just clear this thing. I want to start making my way toward Maldon.”
I blinked.
Wait. “You’re heading to the capital?”
Garrick raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. Why?”
Thorne glanced at me, frowning slightly.
But I was already thinking ahead. Connecting dots.
The Casanaro Archives had been a bust. My only real lead on the artifact, the corrupted dungeons, and whatever-the-hell the system was hiding… was in Maldon’s Grand Archives.
I’d planned on going alone.
But maybe I didn’t have to.
I looked at the three of them. Thought about the road ahead. The risks. The weight of doing all of this without backup.
“If you’re going,” I said slowly, “then I might as well tag along.”
Thorne blinked. “Wait—you’re heading to Maldon too?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Got some research to do.”
Calla crossed her arms, glancing between us. “That makes three. I’ve been meaning to head that way too.”
I looked at Thorne.
She sighed. “Fine. I was already planning on going.”
Garrick chuckled. “Huh. Guess we’ve got a party after all.”
I shrugged. “Might as well travel together. Assuming we don’t all die in this dungeon.”
Calla smirked. “Morbid. But fair.”
Thorne rolled her eyes. “Dungeon first. Travel plans after we all make it out.”
“Deal,” I said, already turning toward the portal.
And for the first time for as long as I could remember, I didn’t feel like I was just moving forward alone.
Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t the worst idea I’d ever had.
Hopefully.
With one last breath, I stepped toward the portal—
And into the unknown.