Elsewhere…
Joel had fled.
He never looked back as he left Town Dera behind and returned to the village.
That place was no longer safe—not for him.
Not with the Fangs involved.
Alex found a small parchment tucked behind a crate in the alley.
Joel had left it behind for him.
**"Alex, I don't know if you're alive when you read this.
But if you are… listen carefully.
Town Dera isn't normal.
It's not ruled by a council. Not by a noble house.
Just one man.
One man with absolute power—Thorne Valrick.
He stays hidden, but his word is law. And if you cross him, you're dead.
No questions. No justice. Just execution.
The twenty he commands? Monsters in human skin. They're called Thorne's Fang.
What you did—killing a sentry—is enough to brand you for life.
Leave. Run. Forget this place.
If they find you again… they won't make the same mistake twice."
—Joel
The note ended in a shaky ink blot, as if Joel's hand had trembled while writing.
Alex folded the parchment carefully and tucked it inside his cloak.
He was hiding now—deep within the narrow, broken alleys of Dera's abandoned quarter.
No lights reached this place. The buildings were crumbling, half-consumed by ivy and shadow.
But the darkness?
It comforted him. It suited him.
By morning, the news had reached Smith Calgrave.
He stood at his desk, holding a report in one hand, fingers rhythmically tapping the oak surface.
"A level 10, huh?" he murmured. "Vanished… right in front of the two Fangs. Curious."
He issued no further commands—only instructed his aide to put up wanted posters.
To him, it wasn't urgent.
What could a mere level 10 possibly do?
Days Passed.
The city changed above him.
Posters appeared overnight on every major street and crossroad.
A black-and-white sketch—his face.
WANTED.
Reward offered for information.
Crime: Murder of Sentries / Disruption of Order.
But Alex… remained a shadow.
He moved through the city like a ghost—silent, unseen.
He spoke to no one. Trusted no one. But he watched everything.
Being in the shadow, that is what he was best at.
Then, one morning, in the early haze of dawn, he spotted a familiar figure.
Fiery red hair. Intense eyes.
A flame barely restrained behind them.
Raven Black.
The boy who had annoyed him just days ago. Now arguing with a few older adventurers near a broken fountain.
"I told you—I'm entering that dungeon," Raven declared.
"I have a plan. I can give you a way in but after that I need help."
The older adventurers scoffed and walked away.
Raven stood alone, muttering.
Alex stepped from the shadows.
"You're still here?"
Raven blinked in surprise. "I could say the same."
"I thought you'd be long gone," Alex said coolly.
Raven crossed his arms. "I'm not leaving until I enter that dungeon. I'll find a way. Even if I have to sneak in."
Alex's eyes narrowed.
Dungeon.
He stepped closer. "Why do you want to enter that dungeon so badly? I'm sure there are plenty in your father's kingdom," he said with a hint of sarcasm.
"You still don't believe my father's a king? Whatever." Raven rolled his eyes. "I've got a plan. You want in?"
He smirked. "I saw your posters. You're already wanted. What more trouble can it be?"
Alex didn't respond immediately.
Level 10. Still stuck. No Class. The system… silent.
He needed answers.
He needed that dungeon.
"…Alright," he said. "I'm in."