[Time Elapsed: 3 Years, 2 Months.]
[Current Floor Reached by Frontliners: Floor 54]
*Step. Punch. Crush.*
...
[Horned Rabbit defeated! +0.0001 EXP (Level Penalty Applied)]
...
Kael's eyes were completely dead.
There was no thought behind his movements, no adrenaline, no strategy. Just pure, unadulterated muscle memory built over a thousand days of repetition.
His starter iron shortsword had broken two years ago. The durability hit zero, and it shattered into worthless gray dust. He hadn't bothered to return to the Starting City to buy a new one.
He simply started using his bare fists.
A Level 1 Blue Slime jiggled aggressively toward him. Kael didn't even look down. He simply brought his heel down on it, popping the creature like a water balloon.
...
[Blue Slime defeated! +0.0001 EXP (Level Penalty Applied)]
...
The system had long since stopped giving him full experience points. Aethelgard's mechanics actively discouraged farming low-level mobs, harshly penalizing players for hunting monsters vastly beneath their level. At this point, it took ten thousand kills just to earn a single, whole EXP point.
To anyone else, it was a waste of time. Madness.
But Kael had realized something the brilliant beta-testers and the brave frontline commanders hadn't: Aethelgard rewarded obsession.
Deep within the game's hidden mechanics lay titles completely omitted from the digital manual. One such title was resting quietly in Kael's status window.
> [Title Acquired: Genocider of the Weak]
> Condition: Kill 10,000 of the same Level 1 species.
> Effect: Grants a permanent 0.01% stat boost for every subsequent 10,000 kills of that specific mob.
It sounded negligible. A fraction of a percent.
But Kael had been here for three years, two months, and fourteen days. He hadn't slept for more than four hours a night. He hadn't taken a single day off.
He had killed over four million Horned Rabbits.
"Kael?"
A voice, frail and trembling, broke through the rhythmic sounds of shattering polygons.
Kael stopped mid-punch.
Taking advantage of his pause, a Horned Rabbit leaped forward and viciously headbutted his kneecap.
Thud.
A gray [0] floated softly above Kael's head.
Without shifting his gaze toward the voice, Kael instinctively raised a finger and flicked the rabbit right between its glowing red eyes.
Crack.
The creature exploded into blue shards.
He finally turned. Standing at the edge of the sun-dappled meadow was a ghost from his past.
Aria.
She had been in his impromptu party on day one, back when Aethelgard was just a game, before the sky bled red and the Game Master stripped away their humanity. Back then, she was a cheerful, optimistic mage who loved picking virtual flowers.
Now, she was a high-level frontline commander.
The transformation was heartbreaking. She was clad in mythic-tier armor, but it was heavily cracked and scorched black in places. Her once-pristine white cape was stained with layers of dried virtual blood—blood that looked and smelled entirely too real.
But the worst part was her eyes. They carried the heavy, hollow stare of someone who had watched too many friends die.
She had retreated to the Starting City, likely to recruit fresh meat for the meat grinder, or perhaps just to find a place where the air didn't constantly smell of ozone, ash, and death.
"You're... you're still here," Aria breathed, her voice cracking as if she hadn't used it for anything other than screaming orders in weeks. "Three years, Kael. You're still in Lumina Meadows."
"It's safe here," Kael replied evenly.
He casually dusted off his starter tunic. It was practically threadbare, offering exactly 1 point of defense, but it was clean. There was no blood on Kael. There never was.
Aria stared at his pristine, pathetic clothes, and a bitter, exhausted laugh tore its way out of her throat. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed onto the soft, green grass, the heavy metal of her armor clanking dully.
"Safe," she whispered, the word tasting like poison. "Yeah. Safe."
She pulled her knees to her chest, her mythic staff rolling forgotten into the dirt.
"We lost thirty people on Floor 54 yesterday, Kael," she choked out, tears finally spilling over her soot-stained cheeks. "The boss... it wasn't supposed to happen. It ignored aggro completely. The tanks couldn't hold its attention. It just bypassed the vanguard and... and it started eating the healers."
Kael stood in silence, the gentle breeze of the tutorial zone rustling his hair.
"We can't push forward anymore," Aria sobbed, burying her face in her hands. "We don't have the numbers. The morale is gone. People are just giving up and settling on the lower floors. It's over. We're going to die in here."
Slowly, she raised her head, looking at him with a volatile mixture of profound pity and deep, gnawing resentment.
"Sometimes," she said, her voice dripping with venom and sorrow, "I wish I had your cowardice. To just give up and hide. To not care about anyone else but yourself."
Kael didn't argue. He didn't defend himself. He knew what he was, and he had made his peace with it on day one.
He simply raised his hand and opened his inventory.
With a soft chime, a small, glass vial materialized in his palm. It contained a red liquid that glowed warmly.
He walked over to Aria and held it out.
...
[Basic Health Potion offered.]
...
"Rest, Aria," Kael said softly. His voice held no judgment, no anger. Just a quiet, unshakeable calm.
She stared at the pathetic, low-level potion—an item useless to anyone above Level 5—before slowly reaching out with a trembling, gauntleted hand to take it.
Kael gave her a brief nod, then turned his back to her.
He walked a few paces away, his eyes scanning the endless sea of green grass. A cluster of Horned Rabbits was respawning near a large oak tree.
He didn't have time to dwell on the tragedies of Floor 54.
He only needed a few more kills to hit the five million mark.