Everyone either stood or lay where they were, too exhausted to move. Their breaths hitched, their bodies ached, and many were hovering on the brink of collapse—some nearly dead, their aether all but drained.

  And yet, none of them could fully process what had just happened.

  Their expressions were conflicted. Not just because of what they’d survived… but because of what they’d seen.

  First, there was the Ironsworn Ravager—this monstrous terror that had dragged them through hell, reduced them to scraps of willpower and broken gear. Now? It lay motionless. Skewered clean through by a single, massive vine spike.

  No one could really believe it.

  That monstrous creature had been brought down—utterly—by a girl.

  A brown-haired girl barely taller than their shoulders had conjured a weapon larger than a house and pinned an Apex Beast to the earth like it was nothing.

  The image alone bruised their pride. Hard.

  They didn’t mean to compare—but it was impossible not to.

  As the saying goes: comparison kills joy—or whatever that quote actually is.

  But it wasn’t just that.

  There was something else gnawing at them.

  Something worse.

  They’d just watched one of the leaders—one of the supposed pillars of this settlement—try to assassinate Jin Saito.

  In plain view, in front of everyone.

  That alone made several stomachs churn.

  Because if there was one thing they could all agree on—regardless of group, alliance, or background—it was this:

  Jin had been a blessing to them.

  A tactical leader, a relentless frontline fighter, and more than that… someone who held everything together when it looked like things would fall apart.

  In the most literal sense, they couldn't be more grateful for everything he’d done.

  And now?

  Now they were trying to figure out what the hell kind of world they were in if someone like him wasn’t even safe from his own.

  Despite all the eyes on him, Jin simply sat there. Eyes closed. Resting. Unbothered by the very real attempt on his life moments ago.

  His breath was steady, his posture relaxed—but beneath the surface, he was pushing himself. Doing everything he could to recover. To refocus.

  Silver rings flickered faintly around his wrists, their shapes barely forming before dissolving again. He was trying to summon them—preparing for what was to come—but he was so drained that no matter how hard he pushed, the rings refused to stabilize.

  And then there was the masked figure.

  The one who saved his life. The one who drove Nyx away as if it was nothing.

  A bigger mystery than anything else on the battlefield.

  He didn’t arrive with fanfare. He didn’t shout orders or ask questions. He just appeared, sighed, and teleported the Ironsworn Ravager into the sky like it was a ragdoll.

  The same monster they had spent what felt like an eternity fighting tooth and nail to hold down… had looked helpless before him.

  Utterly unable to resist.

  They could only sigh in response. This was the new world they lived in now.

  Unbeknownst to them, what they’d accomplished today wasn’t just impressive—it was nearly unheard of. Four Apex Bosses had been either slain or defeated.

  And not just across random worlds or scattered timelines—no. This was Earth’s first expanse. Their first trial. Their very first step in a multiverse where most worlds don’t even make it to their second.

  Only a handful of elite worlds—those acknowledged as pillars among the multiverse’s most prestigious—had ever claimed such a feat so early.

  And now Earth… had joined that list.

  Unsurprisingly, word of their achievements would spread fast.

  They would be marked.

  As a world of interest. A world of potential.

  And worse—a world worth conquering.

  Many would want to control Earth. To mold its strength for their own benefit. The risk of interference, subjugation, or exploitation would skyrocket.

  But strangely… that wouldn’t be the biggest threat.

  No.

  The greatest risk to Earth’s rise—the very thing most likely to bring about its collapse…

  Wasn’t outsiders. Wasn’t apex monsters. Wasn’t some alien god.

  It was themselves.

  Humans.

  Not all of them, of course. But enough.

  The greedy. The power-hungry. The selfish. The ones who’d hoard force and titles and aether not for protection—but for domination.

  The ones who’d go on podcasts—yes, those would still somehow exist in this new world—calling themselves the Chosen Ones. The destined kings and messiahs.

  And even more frustrating?

  The unrest they'd cause would protect them. Shield them in chaos.

  But in the end… they’d be the ones to bring ruin.

  Not outsiders.

  Not the system.

  Not fate.

  Just humans—tearing themselves apart, because they couldn’t stop reaching for what wasn’t theirs.

  A heavy sigh echoed across the battered field.

  “I guess that’s it,” Reinhardt muttered, staring down at the ruins of his gear. Chunks of melted armor clung to his frame, warped and useless. “All that effort, and nothing to show for it.”

  Kaito stepped forward, arms crossed, his tone more upbeat. “Still… we did manage something incredible. We took on an Apex Boss and lived.” He rubbed his nose, trying to look casual—but the pride in his voice betrayed him. “It was kinda thrilling, honestly. For as long as we lasted.”

  “Best we leave it as it is,” Draggbane added, nodding. “We can walk away with our heads high. We faced down a calamity and survived.”

  He paused, glancing at the others. “We learned. We grew. Now we can move on to quests and dungeons with confidence. After this? E-Grade dungeons won’t feel like anything.”

  “But we still don’t even know what the endgame of this expanse is,” Tarek said, stepping in with a neutral tone. “Who knows what kind of trials we’ll have to face to clear just this first region.”

  His voice was measured, smooth—too smooth. It was clear he was trying to redirect the topic, deflecting any suspicion that might’ve lingered after Nyx’s public meltdown. The assassination attempt on Jin had been in plain sight, and Tarek knew better than to pretend it hadn’t happened—but acting innocent was still his best move.

  Reinhardt didn’t let it go so easily.

  “We’ve got a bigger problem than the expanse endgame,” he said, eyes narrowing. “Why would Nyx even try to assassinate Jin?”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  That question landed with weight.

  Everyone turned toward Jin.

  But the man in question looked… completely unbothered. Eyes half-lidded, posture calm, as if it had nothing to do with him at all. Like the whole thing was already behind him.

  “Whatever the reason,” Kaito cut in quickly, “it’s a good thing that masked guy was here.”

  He didn’t say Kei’s name. Deliberately.

  And no one questioned it.

  Kaito let his grin return—cool and light-hearted. “Would’ve been a hell of a lot worse without him. That’s for sure.”

  The others nodded, some slowly, some with reluctance.

  They didn’t have answers. Not yet.

  But one thing was certain:

  Whoever that masked figure was… they were glad he’d shown up when he did.

  Back at the clearing, Silvie and Kei reappeared.

  “Those shadow weapons really did a number on you, huh?” Silvie said, eyeing the cuts and bruises across his arms, the rips in his clothing, and the slow crawl of healing across his skin.

  “I’ll live. No worries,” Kei replied, watching his wounds knit together as the healing potion worked through him. He noted its effects, filing away how it handled blood loss and nerve damage. Crude, but effective enough.

  “So… what now?” he asked, glancing toward the Exalted Dungeon in the distance.

  But Silvie had already vanished from his side. He turned and found her lounging across Wooloo’s belly, the oversized Fellhorn having flopped onto its back like a spoiled house pet. She rubbed circles into its stomach without a care in the world.

  “There’s not much to do but mentally prepare ourselves,” she said, her voice half-muffled as she buried her face in the fluff. “When you’re ready, we go. Until then—soft sheep. Best sheep. Where’s the food for the sheep? Where’s Wolfie? Where’s the monkey?”

  Kei didn’t respond right away.

  His hand shifted to his pouch, fingers brushing over the worldstone fragment—the aether within pulsing faintly.

  “Prepare ourselves, huh…”

  He closed his eyes, reaching inward toward the web of connections inside him.

  Zephyr Wind—Zeph.

  Ebb & Flow—Wooloo.

  Healing Force—Seth.

  Hachi—still no alignment, but the bond was undeniably present.

  Stormwind—tied to the Stormbringer Fellhorn.

  Thunder Force—originally from the Thunder Hare… now something else entirely.

  He paused there.

  The connection with the hare had shifted.

  It wasn’t just that he’d evolved into Verdant Volt—he could feel that the Thunder Hare’s bond with him had changed as well. Like the moment he advanced, the hare’s essence had been pulled along with it. The aether between them had synced on a deeper level.

  “…So I guess it’s the Verdant Volt Hare now?” he muttered, half amused. “That thing’s probably zipping around somewhere sparking like a wildfire.”

  He smiled faintly.

  And then there was the last one.

  That unfamiliar tether that had formed out of nowhere.

  He probed it again—carefully—but the more he focused, the more abstract it became. Like trying to hold water in a closed fist. The force alignment behind it wasn’t just strange—it was completely incomprehensible. Even Ebb & Flow, with all its contradictions, felt intuitive by comparison.

  But even if he couldn’t understand the force…

  The next-stage benefit of the connection had already begun to surface.

  It was subtle, buried deep beneath his external stats—but Kei could feel it. The shift. The dormant power now woven into his body like a passive override.

  He flexed his arm experimentally, watching a pulse along the muscle, tingling with contained power.

  “…Yeah,” he whispered. “I’ll prepare.”

  His eyes flicked toward Silvie—who was now humming a lullaby to Wooloo, nose pressed into the Fellhorn’s fur.

  Because whatever the Exalted Dungeon had waiting for them…

  He was starting to think it wasn’t the only thing testing him.

  Back at his forge, Kei gathered the necessary materials to begin crafting his new gear. The old ninja-style outfit had served its purpose—silent, functional, light—but it had been torn to pieces during the battle with the Ironsworn Ravager. And now? He needed something new. Something better suited for the kind of fighting style he had in mind.

  His weapons were already covered. The Core-Spike Tuskblade, carved from the Ravager’s own tusk, was pulsing faintly with dormant earth energy. Paired with Gale Fang, his finely balanced wind-forged blade, his dual-wield setup was complete.

  His Windblade Staff, still in pristine condition, hummed with each breath he took, ready to be used as needed.

  Now came the armor.

  Kei sheared some wool from Wooloo—his familiar snorted in protest but didn’t stop him—and combined it with the salvaged leather from the Ravager. It was a strange but effective mix of materials: supple yet durable, breathable yet protective.

  Starting from the bottom up, he worked methodically.

  [Stormstep Driftwear] — Legwear

  Baggy, layered harem-style pants made from a mix of Wooloo’s wind-conductive wool and Ravager leather. Designed for maximum airflow and movement. Grants enhanced mobility when performing redirection-based martial techniques. Reduces drag during bursts of acceleration. Hidden inner channels can store small tools or poisons for easy access.

  Effect: Increases evasion, grants minor wind resistance, and improves energy transfer during swift directional changes.

  Next, the torso. He didn’t want heavy armor. That didn’t suit him. Instead, he wove together reinforced wool padding with Ravager hide, shaping it into a loose, oversized tunic that draped comfortably over his frame. It looked simple—plain, even—but was anything but.

  [Breezeguard Mantle] — Bodywear

  An oversized woven shirt reinforced with shock-absorbent Ravager leather and wind-sensitive threads. Absorbs minor kinetic impact while allowing free-flowing movement. The layered weave channels aether evenly across the body.

  Effect: Grants moderate resistance to stagger effects. Slightly boosts aether control and mid-movement aether infusion.

  The Veilgrip Bands—his original armguards—were still in excellent condition. Built for precision, built for stealth. They’d stay.

  Then came his newest addition.

  He carefully wove a headband from reinforced wool, dyed deep green with traces of ores from the expanse, and reinforced it with a thin strip of Ravager bone for structure. Along its inner lining, he carved shallow grooves and embedded tiny retaining channels designed to store his most subtle weapons: the Windpiercer Needles.

  [Whisperspike Band] — Headgear

  A finely-woven headband reinforced with Ravager bone and wind-conductive wool. Contains hidden grooves lined with specialized Windpiercer Needles coated in various poisons. Needles can be deployed silently using precise aether manipulation.

  Effect: Enhances targeting focus for thrown projectiles. Allows for mid-combat deployment of Windpiercer Needles with no visual tell. Slight boost to perception under wind-aligned conditions.

  Once everything was assembled, he ran his hand along each crafted piece, checking for imperfections. None. Every item aligned with the combat style he'd been cultivating—a blend of fluid motion, weapon redirection, and stealthy precision.

  This wasn't just a change of clothes.

  It was a full rebirth of his battle approach.

  And Kei couldn’t help but grin.

  All of his newly forged gear shimmered faintly with a polished bronze luster—each piece solidly in the Bronze Grade tier. Not a bad haul, considering he started with scraps, some wool, and a boar that nearly killed everyone.

  He glanced over at the small battlefield unfolding nearby.

  “How about you? Need any equipment?” he asked, voice casual as his eyes followed the increasingly violent scuffle in progress.

  Silvie, currently locked in a three-way brawl with Hachi and Zeph over food, barely spared him a glance.

  “Nah, I’ve got leftover Ravager and Flood Hare mythic grade equipment,” she called out before yelping, “Ow! You stupid monkey—that’s my food!”

  Hachi growled. Zeph snarled. Wooloo bleated in indignation while simultaneously trying to sneak bites from all their bowls.

  Kei shrugged.

  Fair enough.

  He reached over, picking up the Wildsap Coil Whip Silvie had carelessly tossed aside earlier, and turned it over in his hand. Then, from his inventory, he retrieved the Ravager’s Heartcore Shard and socketed it directly into the whip’s core.

  A soft click echoed out—and then the whip pulsed, its vines rippling with a low thrum as a new force synergy awakened within. Water and Earth Force merged, the coil now buzzing faintly with the pulse of soaked roots and subterranean weight.

  “Since you can use Water Force, and Nature is partly Earth-based… Earth Force should be usable for you too, right?” Kei asked, glancing her way.

  He got no answer.

  Because the trio was still fighting like a miniature war had broken out.

  Silvie’s vines lashed through the air like serpents, Hachi’s claws sparked off stone as he bounded around in primal chaos, and Zeph moved like a blue-furred blur, tail snapping like a whip as he tried to guard his bowl from both ends.

  Even Wooloo got involved—partially because he wanted food, partially because he was bored. His fluffy mass rolled into the pile like a wrecking ball of doom.

  Despite Silvie’s status, titles, and mythic equipment, she was losing.

  Badly.

  Because regardless of what her stats were, hungry animals were their own form of terror—especially when cornered and competitive.

  She had underestimated the danger.

  And now she was paying the price.

  It wasn’t just a food fight anymore.

  It was war.

  Claws raked. Tails slapped. Vines snapped. Aether flared. Wool fluff flew.

  And Kei? He just leaned back slightly and kept watching.

  Because deep down… he had a feeling they needed this.

  Not just the brawl.

  The chaos. The laughter. The break from everything else.

  Let them be dumb for a bit.

  Let them fight like idiots over food.

  They’d earned it.

  Silvie sat cross-legged, more confused than defeated, accepting the bowl Kei handed her with a dazed expression.

  “What the hell are these creatures…?” she muttered, then took a bite. “Mmh—so good.”

  Kei chuckled, settling down beside her. “Well, I’ve been feeding them my blood for weeks. Probably getting the benefits of God Spark blood and Pristine Aether.”

  Silvie paused mid-chew. “You what?”

  “You heard me.”

  She looked at Hachi, Zeph, and Wooloo—the unholy food-devouring trinity—and something clicked.

  Kei grinned. “You know… with your Nature Force, you could probably grow better vegetables and herbs too.”

  Silvie’s eyes lit up instantly, the sheer joy of tastier food overtaking any lingering horror. “Wait—seriously? If I can influence the crops directly... that would change everything.”

  It was clear—her motivation wasn’t legacy, survival, or power.

  It was flavor.

  Kei patted her shoulder. “Alright, you little foodie. Don’t accidentally cause a famine. Let’s get your big round belly to that dungeon and wrap this up.”

  Silvie waddled toward the dungeon entrance like a determined marshmallow, only to pause, double back, and grab another bowl of food before finally catching up.

  As the two approached the sealed portal, the system chimed.

  [Qualified individuals detected.]

  [Are you ready to engage the Exalted Dungeon?]

  Kei inhaled slowly, stealing one last look back at the camp and the chaos they'd left behind.

  “Yeah,” he said.

  Silvie didn’t even hesitate.

  [Worldstone fragment detected. Modifications are being made.]

  [Please wait...]

  ...

  ...

  [Exalted Dungeon is ready. Please enter.]

  The portal shimmered with layered light—time itself pulsing within its glow.

  They exchanged one last look.

  Then stepped through.

  [Welcome to the Time of the Past. Engage with the world and uncover the buried truths of your kind. Learn the history of your world… and the secrets it holds in the greater realm of existence.]

  [Welcome to the Temporal Dungeon.]

  A long silence.

  Then, behind her fogged lenses, Silvie’s eyes went wide. Her oversized, crooked glasses slid down her nose. The loosely tied scarf on her head fell to the ground like a flag of surrender.

  “We’re in a Temporal Dungeon?” she asked, voice cracking like she’d been sentenced to death.

  Kei didn’t respond.

  He didn’t need to ask why she was panicking.

  Because the answer stood right in front of them—etched into the dungeon itself.

  And without any dramatic pause or realization…

  He sighed and accepted it.

  They were going to die.

  That was the only sensible outcome.