Dark Soul (1)
This place was on a completely different level from the other floors.
No flashy skills, no overwhelming stats—none of it worked here.
It was a brutal floor where only pure skill and physical ability could keep you alive.
[Stat normalization in effect]
With the system message came a heavy pressure that sank into his body.
It felt as though lead weights had been strapped to every limb, dragging his arms and legs down with exhausting force.
Here, everyone had to start under the same conditions.
Even a single trash mob was dangerous, and one mistake meant death.
A boss’s strike could erase half your health in one blow.
“Ready, master?”
“Yeah.”
Kiiiiiik—
As the massive iron gate opened, a chilling wind clawed across his face.
The air, thick with the stench of rotten corpses, rusted iron, and despair, seeped deep into his lungs.
Whoooooosh—
“Still as unpleasant as ever.”
“I like it, Master.”
What mattered most in this place?
Parrying.
Flashy combo chains and overwhelming magic were useless.
Only that single parry, timed perfectly to push aside an enemy’s attack, decided life or death.
Fortunately, he could still use Detect.
Its mana cost was low, after all.
“Good thing I can use at least this much.”
“Master can clear this place even without it.”
“That’s true.”
On his first run, he had died here countless times and come back just as often.
But now things were different.
His body had already climbed all the way to the 100th floor.
He still hadn’t reached Valderion’s level, but the swordsmanship in his hands was incomparable to what he had once possessed.
Step. Step. Step.
Footsteps heavy with the scrape of metal approached from beyond the barren field.
Ten soldiers in medieval armor.
The front eight were infantry with shields and longswords.
And between them, two messenger troops clutching horns.
Those guys are the problem.
The moment they blew those horns, every nearby enemy would come rushing in at once.
One formation was troublesome enough; if the whole mob piled on at the same time, there would be no answer.
The goal of the 18th floor was simple.
Break through the soldiers or slip around them out of sight.
Either way, he had to reach the Lion King’s fortress and kill the boss.
Kim Jun’s gaze shifted uncertainly. A frontal assault, or infiltration?
Then blackened letters on the ground caught his eye.
The horn is ahead.
Ambush works here.
“...?”
It was a special message found only on this floor: a sign.
It was a trace left behind by hunters themselves.
And more than anything—
“I’m the one who wrote it.”
Kim Jun frowned.
The warning he had left behind during his first run, after dying over and over, was greeting him now.
“Huu...”
He had no idea why his pre-regression sign was still here.
“Why only here?”
After his regression, many things had changed.
But the tower itself hadn’t changed, nor had the system.
The floor layouts, the rules, the themes—everything was the same.
And yet this sign was clearly telling him that something had gone badly, terribly wrong.
“Master.”
“Yeah.”
“Is it that serious?”
“It is.”
Maybe the tower’s administrator had interfered.
Or maybe it was just a system error.
Either way, the result is the same.
Kim Jun followed the direction of the sign with his eyes.
Far off in the distance, soldiers patrolled the barren plain like machines, moving in steady loops.
Patches of dry grass, tall enough to reach his head, were scattered here and there.
Right. This was it.
Memory from his first run resurfaced.
A frontal break-in was suicide, and the detour was a minefield of even deadlier traps.
In the end, there had been only one choice.
Hide in the grass, draw out the patrolling soldiers one by one, and eliminate them quietly.
Kim Jun’s eyes turned cold.
In a place like this, only patience and precision could save you.
If a messenger ever blew that horn, every enemy nearby would swarm in and surround them in an instant.
“Andras.”
“Speak, Master.”
“Stay quiet. Don’t make a sound.”
“...How boring. We could just kill them.”
Andras shook his head as if disappointed, then quickly fixed his expression and turned serious.
Kim Jun lowered his body and moved toward the first patch of grass.
Rustle—
The dry blades brushed against his feet, but the wind swallowed the sound.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
A soldier approached with heavy, dragging steps.
Empty eye sockets showed beneath his helmet.
He was dragging a rusted blade as he passed the grass.
Whoosh—!
Kim Jun’s sword shot out like lightning, clamping over the soldier’s mouth and slicing through his throat.
“Ghk—”
With a short groan, the soldier collapsed, and blood seeped into the parched earth.
One.
He dragged the corpse into the grass and hid it, then searched for the next target.
A shield-bearing heavy infantryman.
More troublesome.
He couldn’t take him head-on. Kim Jun moved immediately to another patch of grass.
Rustle—
The moment the soldier turned his head, the sword tip drove into the gap in his armor.
A single strike, perfectly placed through the heart.
Two.
His gaze shifted to the messenger troops. The two holding horns.
If those guys sounded the signal, it was over.
The first messenger was on guard from a high spot.
Kim Jun climbed the rocks and slipped in like a shadow.
His blade slid across the wrist gripping the horn.
Three.
The second was trickier. He was buried among the soldiers.
A stone flew, distracting their line of sight for a split second, and Kim Jun slipped in through the side before driving his blade into the man’s heart.
Four.
Now there would be no reinforcements.
Five, six, seven, eight.
He cut throats. Pierced hearts. Snapped necks.
Every death was silent and perfect.
Only two remained.
The heavy infantryman with the giant shield, and the elite soldier with the two-handed sword.
Kim Jun rose from the grass. There was no reason to hide anymore.
“Enemy!”
The shield soldier charged.
Metal rang as blades collided.
Kim Jun waited for an opening, then, the instant the shield shifted apart, he parried it aside and drove his sword into the throat.
Thud—!
The elite soldier was Andras’s opponent.
Shisan Hyeolhae blazed red as it swept out in a cross.
Vertical. Horizontal. A perfect cross.
Thump. Thump. Thud. Thud.
The elite soldier’s limbs fell away one by one.
“Master.”
“What.”
“This kind of fighting is pretty fun.”
“Yeah. It is.”
Six hours later.
From small outposts to the gate guarded by cavalry, he pushed forward through one stronghold after another.
“I’m finally getting used to it.”
He wasn’t hiding in the grass anymore.
He was openly showing himself and taunting the enemies.
In fact, he was even waiting for reinforcements to arrive.
Slash—
Swish—
Andras and Kim Jun’s swords cut the enemies down.
Even the cavalry, the most troublesome foes from his first run, were being dropped in an instant now.
Kiiiiing—!
And then, at last—
“We’re here.”
A massive stone fortress appeared before them.
The Lion King’s fortress.
But the real problem began here.
Going inside did not mean they would reach the boss right away.
On the field, the soldiers had been scattered.
Here, however, hundreds of them were arranged in layered defense throughout the fortress.
Huge palisades and iron gates.
Ballistae and catapults lined the walls.
Heavy infantry units waited in every courtyard.
Archers lurked on the spiral staircases.
Against the blood-red sky, the fortress stood like a vast shadow.
“Still a long way to go, Master.”
“There’s a trick.”
The corners of Kim Jun’s mouth lifted.
A secret he had only discovered after wasting dozens of hours during his first run.
The weapons storehouse hidden deep beneath the Lion King’s fortress.
Weapons and consumables sleeping there.
And among them, one thing he had been after.
“Sleep bombs.”
With those, he could ignore the annoying trash mobs and head straight to the boss room.
“How do we get there?”
“There’s a drainage channel along the left wall of the fortress.”
The two moved around to the side, avoiding the front gate.
A blind spot where the soldiers’ eyes couldn’t reach.
Clank—
He lifted the rusted sewer cover and lowered himself into the damp underground passage.
Darkness, the smell of mold, and footprints spreading across the water.
After walking for about ten minutes, a vast stone chamber came into view.
Rusty weapons hung on the walls.
Bent spears, shields that had outlived their purpose.
And on one side, stacks of wooden crates.
When Kim Jun opened one, five small round bombs sat inside.
The dark-red patterns etched across their metal surfaces glimmered faintly, and the whole thing trembled as if something sleeping inside it were stirring.
“This is enough.”
As Kim Jun gathered the bombs, Andras narrowed his eyes with interest.
“Hm... breaking into a fortress with toys like this.”
“It’s a trick.”
Kim Jun gave a dry smile and closed the crate.
Back to the surface.
The inside of the fortress was huge, but simple.
Guards at the front gate, heavy infantry in the central courtyard, and a spiral staircase leading up to the tower.
Just three areas to break through, and then it was the boss room.
“All right, let’s begin.”
“Good, Master.”
The first sleep bomb exploded in front of the inner gate.
Bang—!
Purple smoke spread instantly, and the guards with their spears staggered before collapsing to the ground.
The harsh breathing inside their helmets quickly faded into silence.
Straight into the central courtyard.
Heavily armored infantry stood there like a wall.
“Enemy! Hold them!”
“Keep formation!”
Their shouting rose as shields were lifted in unison.
But the second bomb was already flying from Kim Jun’s hand.
Crash—!
A deafening blast swallowed the courtyard in purple mist.
One after another, soldiers toppled, their bodies thudding against the ground.
All that remained was the spiral staircase.
Arrows rained down from above like a hailstorm.
Clang, clang, clang—!
Even as Kim Jun drew his greatsword, the relentless barrage blackened the stairs.
“Tch. No way I can take this head-on.”
He hurled the third bomb up the staircase with all his strength.
Boom—!
The smoke wrapped around the steps and surged upward.
Screams burst out one after another from the archers above.
“Aghhh!”
“I can’t... breathe...!”
Armor clattered as bodies rolled down the stairs in a heap.
“Quiet now.”
“Let’s move.”
Kim Jun walked on at an unhurried pace.
When they reached the top of the staircase, they finally stood before a massive door.
Red light leaked through the thick, worn cracks between the panels.
It was as though blood itself were boiling beyond the door, the light thick and clinging.
“Grrrrr...”
A low, menacing growl rolled out of the darkness.
The boss of the 18th floor.
The Lion King.