"Father, how much longer?"
Asher asked, blindfold tight around his eyes.
His father grunted, "The dungeon's just a little ahead, my son."
Asher shivered in excitement. Yes, this is it. Thirteen years. Thirteen years of waiting for this moment. Today, I finally become the protagonist.
Asher wasn't supposed to be here. Thirteen years ago, he'd died in his original world and woke up as a five-year-old in this one.
The excitement wore off fast. Magic? Cool. Everyone has a system? Less cool. Where was his cheat ability? His destined harem? His protagonist privileges
But today changes everything. Class awakening at eighteen, this is where overpowered MCs are born.
And the first thing he'd do after getting OP powers? Payback against his demon instructor of a father who'd made training a living nightmare for thirteen years.
He wouldn't have followed the old bastard anywhere if class awakening wasn't mandatory.
Just then, his father's burly hand thumped against his back. "Son, we're here."
Wind rushed against Asher's face, sharp and cold. The sound of it howling around him made his stomach drop. A cold premonition settled in his gut.
His fingers flew to the knot at the back of his head, fumbling desperately as his father muttered something. "This is here, right? Or was it to the side? I guess there's only one way to find out." Before Asher could process what his shithead of a father was on about, a hand slammed into his back. He fell.
The blindfold ripped free as he plummeted, wind screaming in his ears.
Sky. Rock. Sky. Rock.
His stomach lurched with each spin. Below, jagged stones jutted from the cliff face like teeth waiting to chew him up.
This can't be happening. This isn't how protagonists die!
His mind raced through thirteen years of memories, every brutal training session, every "lesson" that left him bruised and gasping. Had it all been leading to this?
A ledge rushed up at him. Asher twisted mid-air, arms flailing for anything, anything—
Just then, a purple portal shimmered into existence below him. Asher crashed through it.
The world inverted. Gravity twisted. His stomach turned inside out.
Then, with a thud, he hit the stone floor hard, the air punching out of his lungs.
A system notification blazed across his vision:
[Welcome to the F-Grade Dungeon] [Class Awakening: Initiated]
Asher lay there gasping, staring at the vaulted ceiling above.
One day, I'm going to kill that bastard for sure.
He pushed himself up, ignoring the sharp pain in his ribs. The dungeon stretched out before him, moss-covered walls, cracked stone floors, and darkness at the periphery of his vision.
Another notification flickered:
[Survive for 1 Hour to Unlock Your Class] [Time Remaining: 59:58]
"One hour? I don't have that much time. That gorilla's probably going to run out of patience in 5 minutes, and with his fish brain, he may barge in here." Asher's jaw clenched. "Yes, I can't trust him. I need to complete it ASAP."
He started moving ahead, jogging through the corridor. He came into a chamber-like place. As he stepped halfway through, both exits suddenly got shut in by wooden handmade barriers.
The sound of wood slamming into stone echoed through the chamber.
"An ambush?"
The chamber was circular, about twenty feet across. Torches flickered along the walls, casting dancing shadows. And in those shadows, red eyes materialized
Krr Krr Krr
The voices echoed all around him as goblins shuffled into view. Short, hunched creatures with mottled green skin and jagged teeth. They were grinning like they'd found their next meal.
"Goblins. Of course it's goblins."
The closest one cackled, raising its club and swinging at Asher. He ducked, then punched the goblin, sending it flying backward into the wall. The others stared, their grins faltering.
Asher cracked his knuckles, a grin spreading across his face. "Finally, I could release all my pent-up tension."
The goblins hesitated for half a second. Then they all charged at once. A chaotic battle ensued.
Asher stood in the center, chest heaving, knuckles split and bloody. A goblin head rolled past his feet. Another twitched weakly against the wall, its skull caved in. Green blood splattered the stone floor and walls like some twisted modern piece of art.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing more blood across his face.
The wooden barriers creaked, then fell away with a crash. Both exits opened.
Asher grabbed a rusted dagger from one of the corpses, testing its weight. Pathetic, but better than nothing.
He looked at the timer. [Time Remaining: 51:12]
"Still too slow."
He picked the left exit and kept moving. The corridor opened into a larger chamber. Torchlight flickered across cracked pillars and a raised platform at the far end.
On the platform sat a hobgoblin, easily twice the size of the others. Scarred green flesh, rusted armor, and a massive axe resting across its lap. It looked up as Asher entered.
A notification appeared:
[Boss Encountered: Hobgoblin Warchief]
The Warchief stood, letting out a guttural war cry that shook the chamber. Before Asher could react, goblins emerged from behind the pillars, twice as many as before, but these were armed with crude bows and arrows.
The Warchief barked orders.
Arrows flew.
Asher dove behind a pillar as shafts clattered against stone. He peeked out; the goblins were spreading out, surrounding him, while the Warchief descended from the platform.
Ranged and melee. Great.
He couldn't stay pinned down. The archers would just keep shooting until they got lucky, and with the Warchief boxing him in, there was nowhere to run.
Take out the archers first. Has to be fast.
He sprinted from cover, charging the nearest group of goblin archers. Arrows whizzed past, one grazed his shoulder, another his thigh. Pain flared, but he kept moving.
He reached the first archer, driving his dagger through its throat. Grabbed its bow. Spun and shot, another archer fell.
The Warchief's axe came down. Asher rolled, the blade missing by inches. He slashed at its ankle with the dagger, barely a scratch.
Too strong. Too many.
An arrow punched into his side. Asher gasped, stumbling. Blood spread across his shirt.
The goblins closed in, bows drawn. The Warchief raised its axe.
The timer blinked in his vision: [Time Remaining: 46:03]
This is it. This is how I die. Not even getting my class.
The axe began its descent.