The land of Mordheim had always been considered an unsavory place. Many people all over the world looked down upon the small country even before it became a frozen wasteland. This was because the cursed being known as the Ebony Knight was said to have called this place home. It was also said that upon the final battle with the hero Haru, the Ebony Knight fled deep into his homeland, giving up his sword and his armor, in order to escape Haru's wrath.

Mordheim had always been despised by the rest of the world for this reason. Its people were viewed as savages—mad and bloodthirsty warriors who were willing to follow their monarch into hell itself.

Its elite force was able to rival that of the Arcane Knights. It used soldiers known as the Spell Swords, who were masters of the blade, learning to trace their mana into their swords better than any other.

Their land was a harsh arctic climate that was only able to house the strong. It was rumored that its people even delved into the dark arts, attempting to call upon the demons and devils of the old world, who once nearly brought about an end. The only reason the country still stood was also because of just how harsh it truly was.

The space around Mordheim was constantly twisting across the sea, land, and sky, as dozens of dungeons overlapped, creating a wall of infinite space that would have to be navigated just to enter the land. The only ways people would get in and out of the country were through the use of a mage that had the ability to create portals or teleport.

It didn't always used to be this way, though.

At one point in history, Mordheim was an innocent nation. One that lacked the blood that had stained its hands. It had dozens of islands that each had its own customs and cultures. It was on one of these little islands that a small fishing village stood—a village known as Chrysanthemum.

It was smack in the middle of the nation, scattered away from the other land that formed the country, and had never been sullied. That was until the day of the incident…

Gone was the lake. It was replaced with a sea of frost and ice. Gone was the lush green grass. It was replaced with snow. Gone was the warm summer air. It was replaced with a chilling cold that would crack even the strongest mage's flesh in only a few seconds. Gone were the homes, the people, and the life Davi Hawker had come to know.

It was replaced with hell. Hell, that was brought on by a single child and his foolish mistake.

Chrysanthemum had once been beautiful with sprawling plains and lakes. The village lacked any sort of wall since a monster had never attacked it, and children played in the streets while the elderly would stand on the sides and watch with warm smiles on their faces. All the while, the adults would get to work, constantly helping the community that had slowly been growing.

It was all gone now, though, stolen away by fire and ice.

Frozen red mist scattered in the air. Fire mixed with the ice, creating a wave of hot steam and smoke that poured out in all directions. The village was in ruins, half covered in snow and the other half charred black beyond belief. Corpses littered the streets, most destroyed to such an extent that it was impossible to make out who they used to be.

Davi stood, shivering in the cold, his teeth clenched, and his arms shaking as he held up a pathetically small sword as if that would actually save his life. He suddenly regretted in that moment that he had never actually learned how to use a sword. All his father's attempts to teach him the Hawker Clan's style had gone to waste. Not like it would have actually mattered in that moment, though.

Davi stood ankle-deep in snow, and his eyes were wide with fear. In front of him stood what was left of the village's protectors.

A few swordsmen remained, all wearing tattered robes. Most of them sported blue skin, and just moving was enough to crack their flesh and snap off fingers, blood pushing its way out of their body as if it were alive. One in particular caught Davi's attention above all else.

Orion's skin was the only one that hadn't turned into the same nasty blue as the others. In fact, he didn't look to be freezing at all. Despite that, though, he was in the worst condition out of everyone else. His face was stained with blood, and his chest had primarily become black and charred from the heat. He was missing his left arm, and his right leg was severely mangled. It was a miracle he could even stand on it still. Despite that, the man still somehow looked powerful and ready.

Clutched in his remaining hand was a sword. Not just any blade, though. This was truly a disgusting weapon, unfit for a hero. It wasn't quite as big as a claymore, but it was longer than your average longsword. It was thicker as well and double-bladed, if you could even call it a proper blade. The handle of the sword was also slightly longer than usual, with the pommel being the only thing that was of standard size. The weapon would require two hands to wield, yet its owner had been reduced to only one.

The sword wasn't made out of metal either. From the handle all the way down to the blade, it sucked in the light that was around it. It looked as if it were made out of glass, but it was a deep black color, able to blend in with the night sky that hung above. A powerful enchantment hummed along the edge of the black, and black fire poured out, rivaling the orange sparks that were scattered around.

Orion Hawker was a terrible man.

He had done a lot of bad things in his life. He hurt a lot of people, some deserving, some not so much. He had committed acts that could be viewed as evil, and he had done it without a second thought. He wasn't a good man.

He was a good father, though.

"Davi."

Davi flinched when he heard his father's voice. It broke through the chaos. The screaming and the crying. He didn't know where the beast was anymore, but he could hear it. It's roaring. The way its wings flapped. The thundering beat of its tail on the ground. He heard and smelled its fire as well. Thick and bright, it would come pulsing out and wipe away another section of the village. Any moment, that loud monster would arrive, and yet somehow he heard his father's soft voice.

The black flames that dripped out of Orion's sword crept up his arm, and he glanced back at his son. Despite everything, he was smiling.

"Dad?"

"Go." Davi flinched at the words that left his dad's mouth. He tried to shake his head, but his dad ignored his pleading look. "Get out of here."

Davi felt his body shake some more, and it wasn't from the cold. "N-No. I—I can stay and help. Sieg helped. I'll help too. B-Besides. W-Where would I go?" Davi forced himself to stay standing where he was. "We're all trapped in its dungeon. T-There isn't anywhere to go."

"You don't have to stay." Orion lowered the arm that held the sword, and the flames that surrounded him began to go out. "You never liked it, did you? Holding a sword." His eyes sparkled a bit, and he seemed to remember the past quite fondly for a man who was about to die. "It was always impossible to get you into a suit of armor and even harder still to put a sword in your hands. You're a good kid. One not fit for war or combat. That's okay. You don't need to try here. You're not like Sieg, and you're certainly not like me. You take after your mom. You don't have to die on the battlefield with a sword in your hands. Go. Go and die somewhere else. Somewhere away from here. Away from all this destruction and violence. Die the way you want to live."

Davi couldn't stop it. At twelve years old, he began to cry. The tears flowed down his face, and he was unable to hold himself back. His arms, which had been shaking, dropped the shortsword he had found on the ground. It crashed to the snowy floor just in time for a massive boom to echo out.

Debris rained down, and many of the swordsmen screamed as it tore through their bodies and ripped off limbs. Fire washed out across the field, and Orion turned back just in time to swing his sword out awkwardly. The black flames spilled forth and met the orange ones head-on, and that was all Davi saw before he turned and ran.

He ran and he ran and he ran, and he didn't look back. Even as the screaming grew louder and the black flames vanished completely. He just kept walking forward. When there was a corpse in his way, he stepped over it. When someone was dying in the streets and pleading for help, he ignored them. When he came across someone else who was in need and could be saved, he abandoned them. All he did was run.

Davi only stopped when he reached the house he lived in with his mother. It had once been a tall wooden hut, but it was now totally destroyed beyond belief. He didn't know where his mother was, but he saw his brother.

Sieg was just as bad as the swordsmen. His flesh was blue and cracking, and it was impossible to tell if he was still breathing or not. He was only a year older, yet he wanted to die a warrior's death like the rest of the swordsmen in the village. If he had stayed where he was, he would have gotten his wish.

Sieg had already been injured by a piece of stray debris, which he rammed into his side. The cold was saving his life right now since it stopped him from rapidly bleeding out, but it wouldn't be enough. He'd soon die, having engaged the Dragon. Sieg would get his heroes' end.

If not for Davi.

He was a coward. One unable to cope with the fact that he was going to die here no matter what. He didn't want to die on the battlefield doing something he hated, and he also didn't want to die alone, so without thinking any further, he placed his brother upon his back and began to carry him.

Once again, Davi walked, and he ignored letting everyone else die around him as he struggled forward. He hadn't been the only one with this idea. Others had also attempted to escape the village, some running for their lives, others carrying their loved ones, but they hadn't gotten very far before the snowstorm turned them into statues or the creeping flame ate them alive. The village had become a place of death.

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Davi didn't know how, but he managed to push through it all, dodging the fire and fighting through the cold. He ran, then jogged, then walked, and finally, he was barely able to take any steps as he left the walls of his village and walked across what had once been an ocean but was now a frozen block of ice.

The dungeon had appeared and engulfed the village, pulling everything in. Davi didn't know how big it was, but he knew deep down that he wouldn't be escaping. Wherever the barrier was, it would be too far away for him to reach. The Grade of this dungeon was, at the very least, in the high S-tier.

Soon, the village was entirely out of sight, yet still Davi marched through an endless stream of snow and ice. The frozen ocean creaked as he walked upon it, and snow was rapidly piling onto him. Carrying Sieg was starting to get hard as well. He honestly didn't know how he had managed to do it up until this point. Why had he survived while so many died?

How was that fair? Sieg was already in bad shape, and part of Davi wondered if he had been carrying a corpse the entire time already.

He was cold and getting worse. Soon, he wouldn't even be able to take another step forward, much less carry Sieg. Davi tried to speak. He wanted to say something. Anything. Not even to check on his brother, but to just make sure he was awake and wouldn't black out.

"Spiraling towers. Caves that never end. Cities that stretch on like labyrinths. The life of an Arcane Knight has a lot to offer, doesn't it, Sieg?" He didn't know why he brought that up, but those were the words that escaped past his lips in his final hour.

It was odd that he found himself thinking of that group. Mordheim didn't have the Arcane Knights; they had the Spell Swords. Sieg and Orion never got along, however, always getting into fights, and even far out in the middle of nowhere, they had all heard the legends of Haru, the mighty hero who slayed the Devil. Sieg was always talking about becoming a Knight, and he would do it in earshot of Orion to piss his father off.

Being an Arcane Knight and exploring the world was never something Davi wanted. He never had big dreams. He never had a wide-reaching goal. Besides fishing, it was hard to say if he even had any real desires.

He still couldn't stop himself, though.

He talked about the Knights. He said all the things Sieg had told them and tried to remember any stories he had heard about Haru. He kept talking as he stumbled forward, and that was likely one of the reasons he had managed to get so far. Eventually, though, his body gave out, and Davi collapsed. He was unable to hold onto Sieg, and both of them crashed down into the snow.

Davi soon gave up and was ready to die, but by pure chance, the beast had found him. He didn't know when it arrived, but it loomed over him, massive in size. Its body was superheated, melting away the ice and snow and making it the opposite of cold. Instead of freezing to death, Davi could feel his body starting to heat up. He was becoming hotter and hotter, and he even began to smoke.

Instantly, Davi's attention was drawn to its chest. The beast had been sliced open, its blood still leaking, and black flames still clinging to its scales. Orion might have fallen, but he got in at least one solid hit.

"You asked for someone to save you?" A rumble and a guttural growl came from the creature. "Well, you're in luck, boy. I am here." Almost cruelly, the dragon lifted one of its hands, and its jagged nail came down. "You're the brat of the human that dared to scratch me, aren't you? Don't worry. I'll make sure you don't die from the cold. Here. Let me kill you myself."

Davi glared up at the monster. He wanted to scream or cry or beg or anything, but nothing came out. Even as the claw pierced his chest, and it began to sink in. Crimson flowed, and Davi was unable to scream as his throat filled with blood and bile. He felt his heart burst and explode, and then it was over.

Davi Hawker died.

Or at least that was his final memory of that awful place. One moment, he was being stabbed and run through, the Dragon doing it deliberately slowly, and the next thing he knew, he had woken up outside of the dungeon alongside Sieg, fully healed and still alive. Somehow, he had made it out alive.

He was different, though.

A shift had been made. Davi Hawker did die in that dungeon, because the boy that woke up wasn't the shy coward who wanted to run for his life. With the gift of life that he now had, all that remained was a spiteful human being who decided they were going to use this second chance to hurt the thing that hurt them.

Davi Hawker died, and Davi Hawker was reborn.

Now, eight years later, at the age of twenty, Davi Hawker stood before the beast that had taken everything from him, once again in the place he always went to when he slumbered. This was the dungeon he stood in during his nightmares. The Dragon was the monster that was always ahead of him. The only difference this time was that he wasn't alone.

Jack had managed to cast another protective barrier around himself and the others to stop them from instantly burning alive just by being near the monster. That did little to help with the aura of fear that filtered out from each of them.

Jack was the oldest and most experienced and had instantly drawn both his swords, standing in front of the recruits as if he could somehow shield them from this. Ken looked like she was ready to bolt and run for her life but remained rooted to the spot since she knew the moment she ran off by herself that it would get the Dragons' attention focused solely on her. Ruby was practically foaming at the mouth and had collapsed to her knees, already wetting herself from fear. Cain had completely given up and checked out, part of his brain realizing that there was nothing to be done, and instead he spent what little time he had left thinking fondly of his favorite memories and wondering what his older sister would feel when she learned he was slain by a dragon.

He hoped she cared. He doubted it, though.

Lastly, that left Davi, who was the only one not filled with fear. This was because he was full of rage. Pure hate filled his veins, and his heart began to beat faster and faster, and his vision turned red as the dragon stood across from him in the field.

Jack Larison, also known as Battery, was by no means a weak Knight. He was very powerful and had earned a title and wielded Knight gear along with another mighty magical sword he had looted from a dungeon. As far as it went, compared to most Knights, he could be considered one of the best.

A dragon was still too much.

There were books on how to slay dragons, filled with their weaknesses, and he had studied them, but it didn't matter. Standing before an actual dragon, Jack instantly knew that all those books that spoke of ways to pierce through a dragon's scales simply didn't matter. Those books had been created during the time of Haru and were the method Haru and her Knights would use to slaughter the dragons, but Haru was a goddess among men. The methods she used were not the same as anyone else's.

To make matters even worse, this was a double dungeon. A normal dungeon was already evil since it would drain the user's energy and start to corrupt them, but double dungeons were consistently ranked at the highest grade, even if both dungeons were vastly weaker than each other. This was for one simple fact.

The effects of a dungeon would stack.

A double dungeon would occur when, by pure dumb luck, two dungeons would overlap. Since they were twisting space around them, this rarely happened, but every now and then a dungeon would appear, and then another dungeon would appear on top of it. The first dungeon would be layered on top of the second one, with the second dungeon's barrier being placed somewhere in the first dungeon. When a Knight got too close to that barrier, they would then be pulled into the second dungeon, but they were still inside of the first dungeon at the same time, since the two dungeons were occupying the same space.

A mage would have twenty percent of their power and mana reduced by being in a dungeon, and then they'd have those weakened stats be reduced by a further twenty percent. If a mage could survive for one day in a dungeon without becoming a mutant, then they'd only be able to survive for half a day inside of a double dungeon. To make matters worse, monsters were given a buff by being in a dungeon and claiming it. The apex monster, usually the one in the second dungeon, would be given that buff twice as well.

So not only was Jack Larison being weakened twice, but he was also fighting a dragon, one of the strongest beings in the world, who was being enhanced twice. The dungeon he was in was also perilous and hostile, being a wasteland of ice that made it impossible for him to fight at full strength since he had to use a majority of his mana just to keep himself alive. The weird spatial effects of the dungeon were also cutting off his ability to use his portals.

With all of that in mind, Jack Larison decided there was only one thing he could do.

"Run."

"W-What?" Ken managed to squeak the word out.

"All of you run," Jack said, gripping both his swords. "I'll try to buy you a few seconds. Dragons are cocky and arrogant, according to the books. It'll pick us all off one by one and take its sweet time doing it, even though it can kill us all right now. Just look at it. It's standing there watching, knowing we're going to try to flee. It's like a cat that has found a mouse and is toying with it. Most of us are going to die. In fact, we might all die, but if one of us is lucky, they'll be able to make it to the edge of the barrier and step out of this dungeon and into the first one. It shouldn't be able to give chase then. All of you run. While it's busy ripping me off, use everything you have to try to escape. When it finally kills me, it'll come after one of you and will select whoever is in the back and start the game over again. It'll try to kill you slowly. If the pain gets to be too much, just kill yourself, but try to last as long as you can so the others can try to get away. Ideally, two people will be able to escape, but likely it'll just be one."

Cain almost laughed. "So you're saying four of us die? That we're fucked no matter what?"

"Only if you're the slowest." Jack kept his eyes on the dragon. "I'm sorry. I'll try to last as long as I can. I can likely buy you twenty, maybe even thirty seconds."

"Oh, by all means, each of you run." The dragon almost seemed to snicker. It was flat on its belly now, casually staring at each of them. "One little piggy, two little piggies, three little piggies—"

"W-What's it doing now?" Ken asked. She was sweating despite having flame immunity, and her legs were shaking. "Is it purring?"

"Four little piggies."

"It's counting us." Davi finally spoke up. "It's about to start."

"Can you understand it?" Ken asked in shock. "It just sounded like it was growling to me—"

"Five little piggies."

"It's starting."

The ice cracked and sizzled as the dragon began to push itself back up onto its legs. Jack lifted both his swords, forming an 'X' shape in front of him. "Alright! Run! I'm going to form my strongest barrier and—"

Davi stepped past Jack, and his eyes met the reflection of himself in the dragon. The others screamed at him, but he ignored them all and kept his gaze fixed on the thing that ruined everything.

"Oh? Little Davi grew up."

It all came to this moment. His life only existed for this purpose. Davi exhaled. "Vil Shadow Armor." The darkness exploded and lifted up like a tidal wave as he summoned out his strongest suit of armor.

Ebony mail formed around him, and any light that was around was instantly drawn into him. Like a black hole, his armor ate everything up. It was thicker and more refined than his normal suit. It thoroughly covered him from head to toe, his helmet and all, and the shadows even seeped out and wrapped around his sword, changing the moonlit blade into a shadowy longsword. Feathers coated parts of his armor, and his gloves looked more like talons. Even his helmet had changed, bending and twisting at the front into the beak of a bird. Blue fire spilled out of his armor, and Davi stepped forward, radiating as much mana as he could. Every drop of his power was bubbling out.

The others stood on the sidelines, and even Jack looked completely dumbfounded as he stared at the new Ebony Knight, which was now facing down the Dragon. Black hands kept lifting out of Davi's shadow, clawing at the air and pushing him forward.

Davi marched, and the others stayed rooted in place as they watched the hellish Knight. He looked more like a villain, but in that moment, he was a hero—one who would slay the dragon and bring an end to this nightmare.

The warrior of spite was here. Hope was somehow returning. It was unlikely, but they all found themselves suddenly believing in Davi.

With a roar, Davi lifted his sword and—

He suddenly felt empty.

It was over faster than he could even blink. One moment, he was looking up at the dragon, and the next, he was looking at his back.

His severed head dropped to the ground, landing in the snow, and blood erupted from the now headless suit of armor as the dragon's tail flicked forward and decapitated the warrior of spite in a single instant.

It loved tormenting humans, but it loved destroying hope even more, and the looks on everyone else's faces were priceless as they all realized the same conclusion a second after the attack was over.

Davi Hawker was dead.

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