The Monster Domain [1]

Hours after his conversation with Seraphim, Lord Aldric stood alone in a dimly lit chamber deep within Sanctus Keep, a place far from the eyes and ears of the council.

Here, beneath the sacred halls of the Domain of Light, where even the divine’s gaze seemed dimmed, two figures stood before him.

The first was Vaelin Duskwhisper, a High Elf with an unnerving stillness to his presence. Dressed in sleek black robes adorned with arcane symbols, he exuded the aura of a man who walked the line between science and murder.

A research scientist, a scholar of the unnatural, but also a famed assassin.

His violet eyes gleamed with clinical curiosity.

In normal circumstances, there was no reason why a High Elf would live in these slums, Sanctus Keep, the first floor of the World of Light.

High Elves were royalty among Elves, and they normally reside within the push halls and world of the higher floors with higher quality mana and resources.

The reason why Vaelin Duskwhisper was forced to the last floor was because of his unsavory means and fetish.

His means were too unbridled even for the Elf royalty.

As for the second man who stood before Aldric, he was Garrick the Red, a towering human mercenary, his body clad in battle-worn leather and steel.

His Great sword rested lazily against his shoulder, and a smug smirk played across his rugged face.

He was a sellsword, a man who fought for gold, but also one who had survived battles that should have claimed his life ten times over.

Aldric looked at them both, his expression unreadable.

“I have a mission for you. A secret one”.

Duskwhisper folded his arms, his voice smooth and detached. “A secret from the council, I assume?”

Aldric ignored the question.

He stepped forward, his golden eyes burning with intensity. “There is a skeleton in the Dark World, an undead that should not exist”.

“It has forged a mythical weapon, slain the Gate Guardian of the Decaying Forest, and survived against all odds. Now, he is already in the 2nd floor of the Dark World, the Monster Domain”.

Aldric leaned back on his chair. “I need you both to track it”.

Garrick raised an eyebrow. “A skeleton? That’s all? You brought me here for a bloody skeleton?”

Aldric’s gaze sharpened. “This is no ordinary undead”. He hesitated slightly. “It thinks, it adapts. It crafts”.

Vaelin’s eyes narrowed slightly. “…Crafts?”

Aldric nodded. “I want answers. If possible, capture it alive. If not, kill it. Bring back its remains for study”.

“Find out what created it, its origin, its true nature”.

Vaelin tapped his chin, intrigued. “A self-aware skeleton that forges weapons…, now that is something worth dissecting”.

Garrick sighed, resting his sword against his shoulder. “So, we’re hunting a thinking corpse. Fine, fine. Gold better be worth it”.

Aldric stood up and stepped forward, his voice low. “You will be paid handsomely, but you must act with discretion. If the council finds out…,” He let the warning hang in the air.

Vaelin smirked. “I would expect no less”.

Garrick chuckled. “Skeleton hunting, huh? This will be interesting.

Aldric’s expression hardened. “Make no mistake, this is a priority mission. I want results”.

Vaelin bowed slightly, his violet eyes glinting. “Then you shall have them”.

Garrick simply cracked his knuckles. “Time to see what makes this skeleton so special”.

And with that, the two vanished into the night, their mission clear.

Find the Skeleton. Study it. If it resists, kill it.

…

As Clinton stepped through the Ancient Gate, leaving the Decaying Forest behind him, he descended into a new world and immediately, he knew that he was not prepared.

The air was thick, humid, and heavy, as if the very atmosphere carried a presence, a weight of primal violence.

Dark clouds churned above, blocking out any light, leaving the land illuminated only by bioluminescent fungi, glowing rivers of molten rock, and eerie, pulsating crystals embedded in the jagged terrain.

This was no mere forest of decay; this was a kingdom of monsters.

Before him stretched a vast, savage expanse, filled with towering mountains, endless labyrinths of caverns, and massive fortresses of bone and obsidian, likely built by some unknown, terrifying intelligence.

In the distance, massive black spires reached towards the heavens, surrounded by eerie blue flames that defied the absence of wind.

This world was alive.

Not just with creatures, but with something more; a terrible sentience, lurking within the land itself.

The ground trembled as something colossal moved in the distance. Predators the size of buildings prowled the valleys, while in the skies above, winged horrors shrieked, their silhouettes casting monstrous shadows over the land.

If the first floor had been a nightmare, then the 2nd floor was hell itself.

And Clinton? He had just stepped into it.

The Decaying Forest was like a tutorial, and this was the real thing.

Ding!

[You have descended into the 2nd floor of the Dungeon of Azarick: The Monster Domain!]

[1st level limit has been removed!]

As soon as Clinton received that notification, he felt something change, as if the chains holding him back since and preventing him from growing stronger suddenly disappeared.

Ignoring it for the moment, Clinton looked round.

And then he staggered forward, exhaustion pressing against his very soul.

Since arriving in the Corridor of the Damned, he had been fighting, running, bleeding metaphorically since he was a skeleton, and surviving non-stop.

And yet, despite the overwhelming fatigue weighting on his bones, something clawed at the edge of his awareness.

A vague, unshakable feeling; not fear, but instinct.

Something in the back of his mind whispered.

‘You are in danger!’

He shuddered. ‘Is this… the 6th sense?’

He had felt this sensation before, the sensation of being hunted, of standing in the territory of something far greater than himself.

The realization sent a new kind of urgency through his weary bones.

He had broken through the level cap, but what were the rules here? It took him time to learn and master the rules of the first floor.

Did the same level-up system apply here?

How many kills would it take to grow stronger?

What creatures ruled this domain?

Could he even survive long enough to find out?

The answers would have to wait though.

Right now, he needed to rest.

With caution sharper than his weapon, Clinton scanned the land, his sockets glowing as he searched for a safe place to hide.

After some distance, he found it, a sunken crevice, hidden beneath the roots of an enormous, gnarled tree, its bark blackened and cracked as if burned by abyssal fire.

“Perfect,” he mumbled.

Without hesitation, he disassembled himself, breaking his skeleton body into separate pieces, scattering them across the crevice to make himself nearly impossible to detect.

Compared to when he first arrived to this world, he was now experienced at hiding and staying hidden.

His skull rolled beneath an overhanging root; his limbs buried under scattered bones. He became just another forgotten corpse in a world built on death.

Only then did he allow himself to sleep.

His first true rest in a long time.

And in the distance, something watched.