The blue light of the teleportation pillar vanished, replaced by an oppressive, suffocating darkness. Damon Silverstar’s boots hit the ground with a rigid thud. The air here was different from the damp caves of the A-Rank dungeon. It was dry, hot, and smelled overwhelmingly like old, dried blood. He slowly opened his eyes.
Above him, the sky was purple. There were no stars. Instead, a swollen moon hung low in the sky, shimmering with a sickening crimson light. It bathed the landscape in a hellish red filter. Damon looked around. He was standing in the middle of a corridor. The walls on either side were made of jagged, black obsidian stone, skewering at least a hundred feet into the air. The corridor stretched endlessly forward and backward, branching off into far, shadowy intersections.
A labyrinth.
The blue holographic system screen popped up in front of his face, the text glitching slightly before stabilizing.
[Main Scenario Commencing!]
[Title: The Blood Moon Labyrinth]
[Difficulty: S-Rank]
[Participant Count: 10,000 Awakened]
[Clear Conditions: Survive in the labyrinth for 72 hours, or locate and destroy the Labyrinth Core.]
[Reward: 5,000,000 Karma Points, random S-Rank Relic, large amount of EXP.]
[Failure Condition: Death.]
Ten thousand Awakened. The System had dragged hunters from all over the country into this hellhole. Most of them were probably C-Rank or B-Rank hunters who had just been sleeping in their beds. In an S-Rank scenario, ninety percent of them were just monster food.
Suddenly, a warm sensation shone from the midnight black coat draped over his shoulders.
The crimson chat box forcibly shoved the blue system window aside.
[The Goddess of Fate is scanning your surroundings.]
[Goddess of Fate]: A pathetic maze. The God of Magic designed this. He is trying to trap you in his little puzzle.
[Goddess of Fate]: Do not be afraid, my love. My coat will keep you warm. My eyes will guide you. Just walk forward and kill whatever blocks your path.
[Goddess of Fate has donated 100,000 Karma Points!]
"I'm not afraid," Damon muttered, his grip tightening as the weight of the Severance of Destiny formed in his right hand. The crystallized blood blade hummed, eager for violence. Before Damon could take his first step, a flash of blue light illuminated the corridor about fifty yards ahead of him.
The System was dropping more players into his sector. Five figures instantly appeared from the light. They were fully armed and armored, different from the panicked civilians the system sometimes dragged in. Judging by the matching silver and black insignias on their chest plates, they were a coordinated Guild team.
Damon narrowed his eyes, instantly suppressing his mana signature. It was a basic trick he had learned as a porter to avoid drawing monster aggro, but with his new A-Rank core, he could erase his presence. To anyone looking, he seemed like an ordinary, unawakened civilian.
"Form up! Shields front!" the leader of the group shouted. He was a tall, scarred man wielding a shield. A B-Rank Tank.
SNAP!
The rest of his party quickly snapped into a defensive formation. Two B-Rank Swordsmen covered the flanks, a C-Rank Archer knocked an arrow, and an A-Rank Mage stood in the center. The Mage was a stunningly beautiful woman with long black hair and a fitting combat dress.
"Relax, Goro," the female mage said, lowering her shining staff. "The spawn zone is clear. No immediate threats."
Goro, the Tank, grunted and lowered his shield. He looked around, his eyes darting the obsidian walls before landing on Damon. Damon stood perfectly still, his hands in his pockets, the crimson scythe hidden in his inventory. He just watched them with cold red eyes.
"Hey! You there!" Goro called out, marching toward Damon. The metal of his boots clanked loudly against the stone floor. "What Guild are you from? Display your rank badge!"
Damon didn't move. He just stared at the Tank like one looks at a noisy insect.
Goro sneered, stopping a few feet away. "No badge. No visible mana. Let me guess. You're one of those unlucky F-Rank trashes the system dragged out of bed to fill the body quota."
Goro looked back at his party and laughed. "Looks like we found our trap detector, boys."
It was a common tactic in unmapped dungeons. Strong Guilds would force weak, unaffiliated hunters to walk at the front of the formation to trigger hidden spikes, poison darts, or monster ambushes.
"Walk in front of us, kid," Goro commanded, pointing his sword down to the corridor. "Do as you're told, and maybe we'll let you hide behind my shield when the boss shows up."
"I work alone," Damon said, his voice was flat, devoid of any fear or emotion.
Goro’s face darkened. He took a threatening step forward, raising his gauntlet. "Listen here, you little..--"
"Goro, stop. Brute force won't make him cooperative," a sweet, melodic voice interrupted.
Sayuri, the A-Rank Mage, stepped out from behind the Tank. She pushed her long hair over her shoulder and gave Damon a dazzling smile. It was a smile she had used a thousand times to charm Guild Masters and sponsors.
[WARNING. The Goddess of Fate has detected a repulsive presence.]
[Goddess of Fate]: Who is this insect? Why is she looking at you like that?
[Goddess of Fate]: Pluck her eyes out. Pluck them out right now.
Damon ignored the scrolling red text. He just watched Sayuri approach.
"Hi there," Sayuri said gently, stepping uncomfortably close to Damon. Her perfume was sickly sweet, a sharp smell of blood in the air. "Don't mind Goro. He's just stressed. This is an S-Rank labyrinth, and we all need to stick together to survive."
She looked up at Damon through her eyelashes, her voice dropping to a low whisper. "You look so pale. Are you scared? Don't worry. If you help us scout, I promise I'll personally protect you. I'll make sure you get out of here alive."
She reached out her hand, aiming to gently place it on Damon’s chest, right over the lapel of his midnight black coat. It was a manipulative touch meant to secure his obedience.
Damon just watched her hand move in slow motion.
‘Idiots!’ Damon thought.
The moment Sayuri’s pale fingers brushed against the crimson threads of the Embrace of the Goddess of Fate, the System alarmed instantly.
WEE-WOO!
[Curse Triggered: The Jealous Guardian!]
[Target has touched the Host with manipulative/affectionate intent.]
[The Goddess of Fate is administering punishment.]
"Ah—" Sayuri’s sweet smile vanished. A horrific, gut-wrenching sizzle echoed through the corridor, like raw meat being thrown onto a hot grill.
"AHHHHHHHHH!" Sayuri unleashed an agonizing scream. She stumbled backward, clutching her right wrist. The hunters behind her gasped in horror.
Sayuri’s hand wasn't just burned. It was rotting in real time. The flesh turned a sickening, pitch black color, the necrosis spreading up her fingers and past her knuckles in seconds. The skin cracked and peeled, exposing dead muscle tissue underneath.
"My hand! My hand! Help me! Heal me!" Sayuri shrieked, falling to her knees on the stone floor. She cast her own healing magic over the rotting limb, bathing it in green light, but the necrosis devoured the mana. The rot was divine, mortal magic couldn't even slow it down.
"What did you do to her?!" Goro roared, his face spasming in rage. He drew his broadsword and pointed it at Damon’s throat. "You cursed her! You bastard, I'll kill you!"
Damon looked down at the screaming mage writhing on the floor.
"I didn't do anything," Damon stated. "She just touched something she shouldn't have."
[The Goddess of Fate is laughing.]
[Goddess of Fate]: Look at the filthy worm writhe. That is what happens when trash touches my property.
[Goddess of Fate]: I love you, Damon. I love you so much.
[Goddess of Fate has donated 500,000 Karma Points!]
"Kill him!" Goro ordered his men.
The two B-Rank swordsmen charged forward, their blades shimmering with blue mana, but before they could close the distance, the ground beneath their feet began to tremble.
THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!
The footsteps echoed from the darkness of the corridor ahead. A low growl reverberated off the obsidian walls, causing the loose pebbles on the ground to shake. Goro froze, his sword raised mid air. The two lunging swordsmen skidded to a halt, their eyes widening in terror as they looked past Damon into the shadows.
A pair of shiny, yellow eyes appeared in the dark. Then another pair, and another. Stepping out of the shadows was a pack of Blood Mane Lycans. They were A-Rank labyrinth monsters. They stood on two legs, eight feet tall, with muscles bulging beneath crimson-stained fur. Saliva dripped from their razor sharp jaws, and there were at least ten of them.
"L-Lycans..." the C-Rank archer stammered, dropping his bow in panic. "An entire pack! We... we can't fight that!"
HOWLL!!
The monsters didn't hesitate. Driven mad by the scent of Sayuri’s rotting flesh, the lead Lycan howled and launched itself forward with terrifying speed.
"Shield Wall!" Goro screamed, slamming his tower shield into the ground and bracing his shoulder against it.
The Lycan crashed into the Tank like a freight train. The force shattered Goro’s defensive skill instantly. The steel shield dented inward, and Goro was thrown backward like a ragdoll, coughing up blood as his ribs cracked under the pressure. The pack swarmed the hunters.
It was a massacre. The B-Rank swordsmen swung their blades, but their weapons couldn't even pierce the Lycans' thick body. One swordsman had his arm ripped clean off by a single bite. The archer was crushed beneath the weight of two beasts before he could even scream.
Sayuri dragged herself backward across the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, her useless hand leaving a trail of dead skin on the stone. Damon just watched. He stood still in the middle of the chaos. The Lycans ignored him. His A-Rank stealth, combined with the terrifying pressure of the Mythic coat, made him appear like a ghost to the monsters. They avoided him, focusing on the screaming hunters.
Goro, bleeding from his head, looked up at Damon. "Help... help us..." the Tank gurgled, reaching out a bloody hand. "P-Please..."
Damon looked down at the dying man. He remembered Killian. He remembered three years of being kicked and spat on by men like Goro. Damon reached out his right hand. Particles of crimson light gathered in his palm, crystallizing into the massive form of the Severance of Destiny. The scythe hummed, casting a bloody red glow over Damon’s face.
Goro’s eyes widened in brief hope. He thought Damon was summoning a weapon to save him.
Instead, Damon casually stepped over Goro’s bleeding body.
"I told you," Damon said, his voice cutting through the sounds of ripping flesh and screaming hunters. "I work alone."
Damon didn't look back. He gripped the scythe with both hands, his crimson eyes watching the pack of A-Rank Lycans feasting on the fallen hunters.
"System," Damon whispered. "Activate Skill: Void Step."
Damon instantly vanished into a blur of black shadows. He reappeared above the center of the Lycan pack, hovering in air against the backdrop of the Blood Moon.
The monsters looked up, their yellow eyes widening in sudden terror. Damon swung the crimson scythe downward in a sweeping arc. ‘Severance of Destiny.’
SLASHH!!
A horizontal crescent of pure crimson energy erupted from the blade. It expanded outward like a shockwave, passing through the bodies of the ten A-Rank Lycans without a single sound.
Damon landed softly on the ground, his coat withering behind him. He flicked the scythe, resting the long handle against his shoulder.
Behind him, the ten Lycans froze, petrified. A second later, their torsos slid cleanly off their lower halves, blood erupting like geysers into the dry labyrinth air.
[Target Eliminated: A-Rank Blood-Mane Lycan (x10)]
[Massive EXP gained!]
[You have Leveled Up!]
[You have Leveled Up!]
Damon ignored the blue notifications, stepping over the mangled corpses of the beasts and the dead hunters, walking deeper into the dark corridors of the labyrinth.
[The Goddess of Fate is trembling with excitement.]
[Goddess of Fate]: Yes. Walk over their corpses. Leave them to rot. You need no one but me.
[Goddess of Fate has donated 2,000,000 Karma Points!]
The S-Rank Scenario had just begun, and Damon Silverstar was already hunting.
Latest Chapter
Toll-Bridge
Damon’s porcelain skin was no longer pristine. The grey fissures of the Midas-Infection had stabilized into a dull, leaden sleeve on his left arm, while his right side hummed with the Goddess of Fate’s crimson starlight. He was a living paradox — a hybrid of divine silk and human dross, standing at the precipice of the final trade.[Synchronization: 65.0%][Level: 111][Location: Toll-Bridge of Aureum-Primus]The Severance of Destiny rested in his hands, its amber-red blade dragging a thin, violet line across the diamond floor. Every inch he moved forward was a struggle against the price of the air. In this part of the realm, the God of Wealth had decreed that existence itself was a rental. To breathe was to borrow; to move was to incur interest."Damon! The ships... they’re fading!" Isolde’s voice crackled through the mana communication link. She was miles below, anchored with the survivors, but the connection through the sapphire core allowed her to feel the deduction that was now h
Golden Fog (2)
The Banker raised his quill and drew a line in the air.[Skill: The Final Trade][Condition: Damon Silverstar’s Humanity is for Sale]Suddenly, Damon’s left arm began to glow with a brilliant, golden light. The lead was being upgraded. The grey metal was turning into a beautiful, high-carat gold.Damon let out a scream of agony. The gold was moving toward his heart. The God of Wealth was trying to acquire him. He was turning Damon into a Sovereign-Class Asset."The Goddess of Fate has a very high debt," the Banker said, his voice calm and clinical. "She has spent too much on you, Damon Silverstar. She is overleveraged. I am here to buy your contract. You will
Golden Fog
The Spire of Aureum generated him. As Damon Silverstar ascended the final staircase of liquid sun, the reality of the Necropolis and the transition sea felt like a distant, impoverished dream. The air was no longer a medium for breath; it was a pressurized aerosol of vaporized bullion. Every intake of breath was a transaction, a heavy weight that settled into the lungs like molten lead.Damon’s porcelain skin was no longer smooth. It was etched with the scars of his devalued ego, a network of grey fissures that fought the amber radiance of the Goddess of Fate’s silk. His left arm, the leaden limb of his humanity, was a cold anchor that pulled at his shoulder, a constant reminder of the price he had paid to remain a porter.[Synchronization: 65.0% (STABILIZED)][Condition: Midas-Infection (Stage 2)][Location: The Ascent to Aureum-Primus]Behind him, the Kashima Maru was a speck of rusted iron in a sea of gold. He had left them at the base of the diamond cliff, Isolde, Tanaka, and the
Blue Light's Fear (2)
"Welcome to the end of your credit, Damon Silverstar," the Gilded Damon spoke. Its voice was the pure harmonic of a Sovereign. "I have been reviewing your journey. You have spent much to reach this place. You have spent your warmth, your memories, and now... you are spending your sister’s love.""I am here... to close everything," Damon rasped, his human hand gripping the scythe until the lead fingers creaked."With what currency?" the Gilded Damon asked, standing up. "Your mana is borrowed from the Goddess. Your iron is rusted. Your dirt is a memory. You have nothing left to trade but the girl. Give me the Sea-Heart, and I will erase your debt. I will give you my 100%. I will make you the God you were born to be."Damon lunged, and commanded. “Shinen-ryu Style:
Blue Light's Fear
Damon stood in the center of the ‘Plaza of Liquid Sun’, his breathing was a ragged, metallic sound that echoed against the diamond towers. He was a wreckage of divinity. His porcelain skin was spider-webbed with crimson fissures, and the synchronization was a roaring furnace in his marrow that he had only barely brought under control by wounding his own ego.[Synchronization: 65.0% (STABILIZED)][Condition: Midas-Infection (Stage 2)]His left arm, the one he had used to anchor his humanity, was now a dead weight of grey lead up to the shoulder. It was the physical manifestation of the God of Wealth’s interest. But it was his right hand, the one that gripped the scythe that truly terrified those who looked upon him. The scythe was a hungry, sentient rift of amber-red starlight that seemed to drink the very color from the air."Niisan..." Isolde’s voice was a soft, trembling sound. She stood five paces behind him, her sapphire light a small, lonely spark in the overwhelming gold of the
Guards!
Suddenly, the golden sky above them turned a deep, bruised orange.A massive, golden bell began to toll from the center of the city, the Bell of the Final Transaction. Each toll felt like a physical weight, a deduction that made the survivors fall to their knees.From the luxury towers of the Inner District, the golden guards began to descend. They were hundreds of High-Tier constructs made of solid, sentient gold, their bodies shaped like ancient samurai but with gears of diamond visible in their joints. They carried Debt-Scythes — weapons that didn't cut flesh, but harvested the remaining value of the target.The Golden Guards - The Sovereign’s Agency."The account is past due, Executioner," the Guards spoke in a me
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