
The air inside the lower levels of the Inverell Catacombs tasted like sulfur and wet copper.
Lucian didn't slow his pace. Sparks rained down from the cracked glow-stones embedded in the damp stone arches, illuminating the crimson bloodstains smeared across the ancient masonry. Behind him, the low, guttural growls of two Dread-Hounds echoed through the dark tunnels—their heavy claws scraping violently against wet gravel.
Ten seconds, Lucian calculated, his lungs burning as he squeezed through a jagged fissure in a collapsed stone wall. Maybe eight.
Inverell wasn't just another rift; it was a sprawling, ancient subterranean city buried deep beneath the northern frontier of Aethelgard. While elite Tamers from the High Guilds stood behind polished barriers with sleek, pristine B-rank griffins and drakes, Lucian made a living scrounging through the blood-soaked ruins for whatever scraps they left behind. He had no rare mana affinity, no noble family crest, and no high-tier beast contract to his name.
All he had was a notched iron trench-blade, a pair of worn leather boots, and a dying rat tucked inside a padded pouch at his hip.
Thump.
A heavy body slammed against the stone wall behind him. The old masonry groaned, dust showering down into Lucian’s hair.
"Dammit," Lucian muttered, dropping low.
He slid across the slick stone floor, grabbing the leather strap of a shattered supply chest left behind by some long-dead expedition. He dragged himself behind a pile of fallen rubble, forcing his ragged breathing to silence.
CRACK.
The stone wall caved in. A Dread-Hound—a six-foot-long, skinless hound covered in jagged obsidian bone plates—burst through the gap. Its eyes burned with chaotic red mana, and acidic saliva dripped from its exposed fangs, hissing softly as it hit the wet ground.
Lucian reached down to his belt and unzipped the padded pouch.
Inside lay a creature no larger than a kitten. Its gray fur was patchy, covered in dried mud, and its left ear was split down the middle. A Sewer-Spite Rat. A bottom-tier pest creature commonly found in city gutters and low-grade dungeon drains. Most tamers used them as live bait to condition young hunting hounds.
"Hold on, Pip," Lucian whispered, his thumb lightly touching the rat's cold, trembling nose. "If I die here, nobody's buying you those sweet dried mana-grains."
The rat let out a weak, raspy squeak, feebly pressing its snout against Lucian’s calloused thumb.
The Dread-Hound lowered its massive snout, sniffing the stagnant air. Its head snapped toward the rubble pile.
It caught the scent.
Lucian’s knuckles turned white around the hilt of his trench-blade. I can’t outrun a Dread-Hound on open ground. If I run, I'm torn apart. If I fight it with a notched blade, I'm dead.
The hound lunged.
It cleared the fifteen-foot gap in a heartbeat, its jaws unhinging to snap straight for Lucian’s throat.
Lucian didn't attempt to dodge. He threw himself forward, dropping beneath the beast's leaping arc, and drove the pointed steel tip of his trench-blade directly into the hound’s left eye socket with the full weight of his body.
CRUNCH.
Black, acidic blood sprayed across Lucian’s chest and face. The hound let out an earth-shattering howl of agony, thrashing its massive head wildly. The force of its thrashing slammed Lucian hard against the stone wall, driving the wind completely out of his lungs.
The beast violently shuddered, clawing at its own face until the steel blade lodged deeper into its skull, severing the nerve stem. It collapsed into a heavy, motionless heap right over Lucian's legs.
Lucian lay pinned under the dead beast, gasping for air as sharp pain shot through his ribs.
One down...
A second, deeper growl rumbled from the dark fissure in the stone wall. The second Dread-Hound emerged, stepping slowly over the bloody mess of its packmate. Its crimson eyes locked onto Lucian, who was still trapped under the dead monster's weight.
This is it, Lucian thought, his heart hammering against his ribs.
The second hound lowered its hind legs, tensing its muscles to pounce.
Suddenly, a cold, ringing chime echoed directly inside Lucian’s brain.
[Condition Met: Host has slain a Class-E Beast (Obsidian Dread-Hound) unassisted.]
[Soul Resonance Threshold Reached: F-Rank (Compatible)]
[Sovereign Extraction System Initializing...]
Lucian’s eyes widened as a translucent, dark-blue panel hovered in his line of sight. The world around him seemed to slow to a crawl.
[Target Corpse Identified: Obsidian Dread-Hound (Class-E)]
[Select Soul-Trait to Extract:]
Option A: Extract Skill — [Shadow Strike (E-Rank)]
Option B: Extract Bloodline Fragment — [Obsidian Bone Armor (E-Rank)]
Option C: Extract Pure Mana Essence (12 Units)
A system? Lucian thought, his mind racing to process the glowing text burning in his vision. Extraction?!
The second Dread-Hound launched itself into the air, jaws wide, aiming directly for his exposed head.
"Option B!" Lucian roared in his mind. "Graft to Pip!"
[Extraction Successful!]
[Grafting Target: Sewer-Spite Rat (Class-F)]
[Compatibility: 38% — Initiating Force-Grafting...]
[Mutation Triggered!]
A surge of pitch-black smoke exploded from the chest of the dead hound pinned over Lucian's legs. The shadowy mist coiled around Lucian's waist like a hungry viper and plunged straight into the leather pouch at his hip.
SCREECH!
The leather pouch tore apart in a violent burst of dark mana.
A shockwave of obsidian energy hit the leaping hound mid-air.
CLANG!
A heavy, metallic thud echoed through the stone corridor. The surviving Dread-Hound was thrown violently backward, crashing into the damp wall before scrambling to its feet, snarling in shock.
Lucian pushed the dead weight off his chest, staring in disbelief.
Standing in front of him was no longer a fragile, dying pest.
Pip had grown to the size of a mountain wolf. Its fur had turned jet-black, absorbing the faint light around it like a shadow. Covering its spine, shoulders, and skull were heavy, overlapping plates of dark obsidian bone that glowed with intricate crimson runes. Its milky eyes were gone—replaced by two burning embers of pure blood-red light.
[Graft Complete!]
[Companion Status:]
Name: Pip
Species: Obsidian Shadow-Rat (Mutated Class-E)
Loyalty: 100% (Bound by Soul Resonance)
The mutated rat glanced back at Lucian for a split second, letting out a low, metallic rumble that vibrated through the stone floor.
"Pip?" Lucian breathed out, staring at the armored apex predator standing before him.
The shadow-rat snapped its gaze back toward the crouching Dread-Hound.
[Command Issued: Exterminate.]
With speed that left black ribbons of shadow in the air, Pip vanished from sight.
SWISH.
Pip reappeared directly above the Dread-Hound. Its elongated claws, now tipped with bone-shredding obsidian spikes, tore straight down through the monster's neck armor like parchment.
SLASH!
Black blood erupted against the ancient stone wall. The Dread-Hound didn't even have time to whimper before its throat was completely torn open, its massive body falling limply to the floor.
Silence returned to the Catacombs of Inverell, broken only by the steady drip-drop of blood from the vaulted ceiling and Lucian's heavy breathing.
The shadow-rat turned around slowly. The obsidian plates along its snout smoothed out, and it trotted back over to Lucian, pressing its heavy, armored head gently against his blood-stained knee.
[Target Corpse Identified: Obsidian Dread-Hound (Class-E)]
[Select Soul-Trait to Extract:]
Option A: Extract Skill — [Shadow Strike (E-Rank)]
Option B: Extract Attribute Essence — [+3 Strength, +4 Agility to Host]
Lucian looked from the dead beasts on the floor to the terrifying companion nudging his leg, a dark grin spreading across his face.
"Option B," Lucian whispered, feeling a sudden surge of heat and raw physical power flood through his muscles and spine. "Feed the stats to me."
He wiped the black blood from his chin and stood up straight, his ribs no longer aching. For the first time in his life, he wasn't the prey in these ruins.
Latest Chapter
CHAPTER 9: THE CLEANSE
The sun had barely broken over the jagged granite arches of the Iron-Clad Guildhall when Lucian stepped onto the central plaza the following morning.He looked entirely different from the filthy scavenger who had descended into the dark two days ago.He wore a tailored, slate-dark woolen coat fitted over a stiff linen shirt, durable dark trousers, and brand-new leather boots bought from an artisan cobbler in the Middle District. He looked neat, composed, and unassuming—like a junior clerk from a minor merchant house or an apprentice scribe.Tucked quietly beneath his stiff collar, Pip remained curled into a tiny, sleeping ball. To the outside world, he was just a lazy, scruffy pet rat.Step. Step.Lucian walked through the vaulted archway of the main administrative wing.The moment he stepped inside, his brow furrowed slightly.The atmosphere inside the Guildhall was dead wrong.Usually, this place was a loud, chaotic hive of activity. Scavengers would be screaming over quest board cl
CHAPTER 8: GOLD AND SILENCE
The air on the surface of Aethelgard hit Lucian’s lungs like a cold, sharp shock.Haaah...He stood at the mouth of the lower gate, exhaling a long, ragged breath he felt like he’d been holding for days.Down in the Catacombs, the atmosphere was a thick, suffocating slurry of rotting marrow, damp mold, and the metallic tang of dried monster blood. Up here in the Middle District, however, the breeze carried the crisp scents of sun-baked stone, roasted rye, and the distant, dry smoke of oak-burning hearths.It was the smell of civilization. The smell of safety.Lucian reached down, his fingers lightly brushing against the heavy leather pouch tied securely to his waist beneath his long coat.Clink.The deep, dull sound of heavy metal echoed through the leather.Ninety-four gold crowns.To an elite adventurer from an S-tier Guild or a pampered scion of a noble household, ninety-four gold crowns might have been pocket change—a single night’s bar tab or the cost of a mid-tier Mana Restorati
CHAPTER 7: OUT OF THE DARK
The dark blue system windows did not vanish with a quiet chime. They shattered into a storm of glowing blue dust that settled slowly over the flooded vault.Light bled back into the subterranean cavern, casting long, crooked shadows against the cracked basalt walls. The air was heavy with the metallic stench of spilled beast blood and the lingering acrid tang of boiled acid, but the suffocating pressure of the fight had completely evaporated.Lucian stood amidst the wreckage of the reservoir, looking down at his palms.The thick, blackened acid blisters that had scorched his skin during the fight with the Mire-Gorged Toad were completely gone, replaced by smooth, unblemished skin. His limbs felt light, charged with a quiet, dense vitality. His stats had surged, and every breath felt smooth, steady, and effortlessly deep.Beside him, Pip’s nine-foot silhouette towered over the shallow water—a terrifying, dark mountain of slate armor, translucent scythe claws, and glowing crimson eye so
CHAPTER 6: THE FORBIDDEN GENESIS
The choice didn't just trigger a prompt—it triggered a violent physical reaction.The moment Lucian’s mind locked onto Option C, the dark blue glass of the system window shattered into thousands of glowing, needle-like shards. They didn't vanish into the air; they plummeted straight down, embedding themselves deep into the dead, green mass of the Mire-Gorged Toad.HUMMMMMM.A low, subterranean frequency vibrated through the stone floor of the reservoir, so deep it rattled Lucian’s back teeth and made the black water pool around his knees ripple in concentric circles.The toad’s five-ton carcass began to wither.It wasn't rotting. The water-logged skin, the thick layers of fat, the dense muscle fibers, and the acid-producing glands were collapsing inward, drained of their moisture and density as if being pulled toward a single, super-dense point beneath the ribs. From the center of the monster's chest, a sphere of liquid emerald light—pulsing with golden, vein-like threads—rose slowly
CHAPTER 5: THE FATAL FLAW
The tongue didn't move like a muscle. It moved like a cannonball.Lucian didn't try to parry or block. The moment the toad's wide jaws unhinged, he threw his body sideways, digging his boots into the slick basalt floor.THWIP—BOOM!The muscular projectile grazed his left ribs, the sheer wind pressure tearing the leather of his jacket and sending a burning wave of acidic spray across his waist. The tongue hit the stone wall behind him with a deafening crack, pulverizing ancient masonry into fine gray powder.1.5 seconds, Lucian’s mind screamed, his vision going red with adrenaline. The retraction!Instead of retreating, Lucian lunged forward directly along the wet path of the extending tongue. His upgraded Agility drove his feet across the slime-covered floor, closing the fifteen-foot gap before the toad could pull the weapon back into its mouth.The creature’s lidless yellow eyes rolled down in shock. It hadn't expected the tiny prey to run toward its open maw."Pip! NOW!" Lucian roar
CHAPTER 4: ATTRITION & DESPERATION
The air inside the reservoir turned to caustic steam as the toad’s throat expanded.Lucian didn't try to stand. He rolled to the right, burying his face into the stagnant water as the toad fired its tongue a second time.THWIP—BOOM!The muscular missile missed Lucian's head by inches, punching straight into the basalt floor where he had been lying a second prior. The impact shattered two-inch-thick stone flags into razor-sharp gravel, showering Lucian's back with shrapnel.The air pressure alone felt like a physical hammer to his ribcage.Lucian scrambled to his knees, wiping black mud and acidic slime from his eyes. His heart pounded like a war drum in his throat. Think, dammit. Think!The toad pulled its tongue back with a heavy, wet slurp. Because of the weapon's sheer length and weight, the retraction took roughly one point five seconds—a split second of absolute vulnerability where its mouth remained wide open and its head was held rigid.That’s the opening, Lucian realized, his
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