The Grand Academy's courtyard was deafening.
Thousands of students, parents, and citizens roared as colossal holographic screens floated high above the arena, broadcasting every second of the Graduation Dungeon Exam.
At the highest tier—the VIP stand—sat the true rulers of the city.
Velvet chairs. Crystal glasses. Composed smiles.
Guild Masters. High-ranking instructors. Military officials.
At the center sat Marcus, Guild Master of the Silver-Blood Guild, lazily swirling a glass of expensive red wine, his lips curved in pride.
On the main screen—his son.
Oliver Silver.
Golden armor blazing. A-Rank [Holy Knight] aura erupting like sunlight.
A towering Level 5 Iron-Hide Bear lunged.
"Fall!" Oliver roared.
His blade ignited with holy light.
SLASH!
The bear's chest split open. It collapsed instantly.
The courtyard exploded in cheers.
[Score Updated: Oliver Silver - +500 Points]
[Current Rank: 1st Place - 2,500 Points]
Marcus chuckled, taking a slow sip.
"He's still a bit rough... but he's already cutting down Level 5 monsters within twenty minutes. He'll surpass me one day."
The Headmaster nodded calmly.
"A Level 7 Holy Knight... a rare talent. He may even break the academy's all-time record today."
Oliver was the star.
The protagonist of this story.
—
But suddenly—
An instructor monitoring the secondary screens froze.
His expression stiffened.
"Headmaster..." his voice trembled. "Screen 7. Sector D."
The Headmaster frowned.
"Sector D? That's the Red Zone. I ordered all students to avoid it. The monsters there exceed Level 6... Who would be foolish enough to go there alone?"
Marcus smirked, setting his glass down.
"Some trash looking for a shortcut to death."
The instructor quickly transferred Screen 7 to the central display.
The image flickered—
Then cleared.
Silence.
A lone figure walked through the twisted, shadow-filled forest.
Black trench coat. Hands in pockets. Steps calm. Unhurried.
Arthur Pendelton.
"The F-Rank Necromancer?" Marcus scoffed, laughing. "The slum rat Oliver mentioned? He's wandered into Shadow Wolf territory. He's already dead. Turn it off before—"
He stopped mid-sentence.
On the screen—
The forest shifted.
The shadows twisted unnaturally.
Even the trees seemed to recoil.
Then—
Eyes.
Six pairs.
Ten.
Fifteen.
Glowing red eyes emerged from the darkness.
A full pack of Level 6 Shadow Wolves.
They surrounded Arthur completely.
Fangs bared. Muscles coiled.
A perfect kill formation.
Even Oliver's party would retreat from this.
But Arthur stood still—like the world itself was beneath his notice.
Bored.
His lips moved.
"Arise."
[Mana: -15]
A magic circle erupted beneath his feet—
Not gray.
Not normal.
Toxic.
Neon green.
It illuminated the forest like a cursed flame.
The VIPs leaned forward.
"Green...?" one whispered. "Necromancers summon gray skeletons..."
"What... is that?"
From the glowing circle—
Something crawled out.
Slender. Pitch-black bones. Veins pulsing with toxic green light. Twin reverse-grip daggers dripping acid.
The Plague-Bone Assassin.
The Alpha Shadow Wolf howled—
And lunged straight for Arthur's throat.
For a split second—
It was too close.
Its fangs were inches from his neck.
Gasps erupted in the courtyard.
Even the Headmaster's eyes widened—
The Assassin—
Vanished.
Not fast.
Gone.
A distortion.
A break in reality.
Slash.
A streak of toxic green light tore through the air.
The Alpha Wolf froze mid-leap—
Then split cleanly in half.
Before its body even hit the ground—
HSSSSSS—
Its flesh, bones, and fur dissolved into bubbling green sludge.
The Assassin paused—just for a fraction of a second—standing atop the melting Alpha's corpse... as if coldly confirming the kill.
Then it vanished again.
Marcus's wine glass slipped from his hand.
CRASH.
Shattered across the marble floor.
He didn't notice. His eyes were locked on the screen.
In the forest—
The massacre began.
The Assassin moved like a nightmare.
Faster than the cameras could track.
The automated lenses tried to lock onto its skeletal frame.
They failed.
Not because it was moving too fast.
But because... it wasn't always there. It flickered in and out of the physical plane, a phantom executing a living nightmare.
Slash. Pierce. Decapitate.
Toxic daggers flashed.
Green mist erupted.
Branches snapped under the force of impact.
Wolves lunged—
Their limbs melted mid-air.
They turned to flee—
Daggers pierced their skulls before they could take a single step.
The speakers carried the sound—
Hissing.
Melting.
Dissolving.
[Kill Streak: 5]
[Kill Streak: 10]
[Bonus Points Applied]
Ten seconds.
That was all it took.
Fifteen Level 6 monsters.
Erased.
Arthur simply walked forward again, stepping over bubbling pools of acid.
The Assassin dissolved back into his shadow.
—
In the VIP stand—
Silence.
Absolute silence.
No one spoke.
No one breathed.
The Headmaster slowly stood up.
His chair fell backward with a dull thud.
His hands trembled as he gripped the railing.
"That... is not a summon," he whispered hoarsely. His voice dropped, thick with a cold, creeping dread. "That... is a weapon."
Marcus didn't answer immediately.
His face was pale. Eyes shaking.
"This... this isn't power..." Marcus muttered slowly.
His voice dropped.
"This is something... wrong."
Then he snapped.
"Impossible!" he roared, veins bulging on his neck. "He's F-Rank! A trash-level Awakener! How could he sustain something like that?!"
No one answered.
Because no one understood.
They were measuring a god—
With the rules of mortals.
—
Then—
DING!
A mechanical chime echoed across the entire academy.
The massive holographic Leaderboard flickered.
The crowd froze mid-cheer.
Hands stopped mid-air.
Voices died.
Even the floating cameras seemed to stutter.
All eyes lifted.
[System Notice: Abnormal Score Calculation Detected...]
[Re-evaluating…]
[Error…]
[Override Accepted.]
[Rank Updated]
…
No one reacted.
Not immediately.
Because for a brief—
Frozen—
Second…
No one believed what they were seeing.
…
[Rank 2: Oliver Silver - 2,500 Points]
[Rank 1: Arthur Pendelton - 15,000 Points]
…
Silence.
Then—
A collective gasp ripped through the courtyard.
Fifteen thousand points.
In ten seconds.
It wasn't competition.
It was annihilation.
—
Inside the dungeon—
Oliver wiped sweat from his forehead, smiling confidently as he raised his wrist.
First place.
As expected.
He glanced at the screen—
And froze.
His golden sword slipped from his hand.
Thud.
"Arthur... Pendelton...?" his voice cracked. His breathing turned uneven, panicked. "Fifteen thousand...? No... no... this is a system error... It has to be..."
He looked at his trembling hands. The golden armor that had felt so heavy with prestige suddenly felt like a hollow costume.
"I trained... every day... I have the best bloodline..." his voice shook, the arrogant facade completely shattering into a profound, existential crisis.
"Then what have I been fighting for...?"
For the first time—
The genius of the academy looked like a victim.
—
Deep in the Red Zone—
Arthur glanced at his wristband.
[Rank 1.]
His expression didn't change.
He looked away from the glowing screen.
"Irrelevant," he murmured coldly.
His eyes lifted—
Toward the deeper, darker part of the forest.
Where the real monsters lived.
For a moment—
The wind stopped.
The forest grew silent.
Not because it was empty—
But because everything inside it... had stopped moving.
Arthur stepped forward.
And for the first time in the history of the Artificial Dungeon—
Something deep in the Red Zone...
Stepped back.