Everywhere Vale looked, the silver-gray trunks of the ancient pines stood like the bars of a living cage, their dense canopy weaving together overhead to block out all but the most fractured, mocking glints of sunlight.
He had been walking in circles for hours, the claustrophobia tightening around his chest until he could barely draw a breath of the damp, pine-scented air. If the timber had faces, he was entirely certain they were smiling at him. Smirking at his pathetic, looping trajectory.
"WHAT THE HELL!"
The scream tore from his throat, raw and ragged, doing absolutely nothing to pierce the heavy, suffocating silence of the woods.
"WHERE THE HELL AM I?!"
"FUCK!"
He stomped again, pouring all his terror and frustration into the heel of his shoe, desperately wishing he could break the stubborn, unyielding ground beneath him.
He kicked wildly at a sprawling root, sending a shower of damp topsoil and decaying leaves flying into the air. It was a tantrum against nature, born of sheer, unadulterated panic.
"LET ME OUT!" he screamed at the unblinking wilderness.
Silence followed. Then, a sharp, metallic ring resonated not through the air, but directly inside the caverns of his own skull.
’Ding’... ’Ding...’
Something ticked inside his head. A cold, mechanical presence began calculating, its digital voice stinging his mind like a localized migraine. Vale clutched his temples, spinning on his heel as he looked everywhere at once.
’1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15......’
The numbers rattled off with blinding speed, a relentless torrent of data processing behind his eyes.
’........99, 100’
*"PROCESSING HAS CONCLUDED."*
Out of thin air, a stark blue light materialized, casting an ethereal glow over Vale’s bewildered expression. He tilted his head, his breath catching in his throat as glowing text stitched itself into reality right before his eyes.
[ PLAYER HAS BEEN REGISTERED ]
[ THE DUNGEON OF EVOLUTION HAS CHOSEN YOU ]
"What the heck...?" he whispered, his voice cracking.
All he had ever wanted was a meager income. Just enough coin to pay the registration fees for a commoner’s dorm so he wouldn’t sleep in the gutters. How in the gods’ names had his first little adventure turned into this?
Two days before
Half-asleep and half-awake, Vale had dragged his dead, exhausted body out of bed. The routine was always the same. He washed his face, leaning heavily against the basin as he stared at the hollow, shadowed face reflecting in the mirror.
"That damn dream again," he muttered, his breath hitching with stress.
Stepping out of his quarters, he locked the door and began the long trek down the familiar, vaulted hallway. Cadets walked and chattered in small, exclusive cliques, their gazes lingering on him as he passed. Some whispered; others openly sneered. Vale didn’t care. He had long since run out of the energy required to care.
"VALE."
A sharp woman’s voice echoed through the corridor. Instinctively, he turned his head to see the academy’s receptionist walking slowly toward him, a clipboard held tightly against her chest.
’Now what?’he thought, irritation flaring in his chest.
"You have to pack your things and leave your dorm before dawn," she said flatly, her quill scratching a line through a document with performative finality.
"Huh?" Vale stared at her blankly.
"You see, this dorm is reserved for nobles and cadets who have shown exceptional talent."
She paused, looking up to drink in the sight of Vale’s shocked face before continuing with a venomous sweetness. "Now that you are disowned, you have officially lost your privileges to live here."
She leaned in slightly, a cruel smirk playing on her lips. "What a pity, young master Roderick."
She intentionally dragged out the family name, her eyes tracking his expression. ’Is he going to shout?’ she mused, practically salivating at the thought. ’Is he going to lunge at me?’
Instead, Vale simply straightened his posture. The shock faded from his eyes, replaced by a dull, deadpan acceptance. "Yes, I understand. I will pack everything."
The receptionist blinked, completely derailed by the lack of theater. She had predicted rage—not this hollow compliance. Quickly adjusting her composure, she cleared her throat and turned back toward her desk, disappointed.
Vale turned away, continuing his daily fifteen-minute walk to the classroom. ’This is going to be tough’ he thought grimly. ’I’ve lost my family’s backing. Now I have to figure out how to survive in the commoner district.’
When he reached the grand gates of the academy, he spotted a figure leaning against the stone archway. She was waiting for someone, her posture rigid and radiating a strange, dangerous aura that made the passing underclassmen give her a wide berth.
"Vale. I have been waiting here for five minutes for you," she said as he approached.
Vale let out a deep, exhausted sigh. ’One problem, then another problem’
"I didn’t ask you to wait for me, big sister," he replied flatly.
Her face darkened, a sharp frown cutting across her pristine features. "Big sister? Not anymore." She stepped closer, invading his personal space as she lowered her voice to a harsh whisper. "You are disowned. Don’t ever call me that again. And besides... the Erwin boy accepted the terms."
"So you’re here just to warn me?" he responded, his voice entirely devoid of emotion.
Seeing that she had successfully delivered her verbal strike, her sour mood vanished, replaced by a bright, cheerful tone that felt entirely sociopathic. "Yup!"
"I see."
Without giving her another glance, Vale stepped to the side and walked right past her, his stride even and unbroken.
The girl froze, her cheerful facade shattering instantly. A hot, furious blush crept up her neck as she stared at his retreating back. The utter lack of a reaction insulted her more than any insult could. ’Why didn’t he get agitated?’ she thought, her fists clenching until her knuckles turned white. ’Why didn’t he cry?!’