The moment Justin stepped through the exit portal, the world shifted again.
Gone were the shattered ruins and bloodstained battleground of Floor One.
Gone was the echoing roar of Gutrend's dying fury.
In its place rose a cavernous obsidian hall, cold and polished—silent except for the faint hum of power vibrating through the air.
The walls were lined with blades. Hundreds of them.
Swords, spears, axes, and strange double-edged daggers that seemed to float midair, suspended by some unseen force. Others were embedded deep into obsidian pillars, glowing faintly with ancient runes that pulsed like distant stars.
Justin's gaze flicked from weapon to weapon, heart pounding.
This floor…
"Welcome to Floor Two," Hakuda's voice chimed softly, almost reverent.
"Designation: Trial of Choice. Objective: Claim your path."
Justin's lips parted. "Path?"
"This floor doesn't test your strength," Hakuda explained. "It tests your instinct. Every weapon here holds a skill. Every skill will shape your class progression. Choose wisely."
Justin swallowed.
"And what if I don't want a class?"
"Too late, Assassin. You already made that choice."
Behind him, Matilda stepped through the portal and let out a sharp breath.
"What is this place…?" she whispered, eyes wide with awe and a flicker of fear.
Justin cracked a half-smile. "Pick your poison."
A translucent window appeared before him:
[System Message]
Ascension Protocol Initiates Weapon Binding
Choose ONE Artifact Weapon from the Chamber
Once chosen, all other weapons will be sealed to you
Warning: Your choice will shape your future skills, affinities, and transformations
He stepped forward, his boots clicking softly against the black floor.
The plaques beneath each weapon glowed with a faint light.
Bloodfang Spear – Bleed stacking, rage builds with each wound inflicted.
Specter Blades – Dual curved daggers, stealth boost, teleport slash.
Bonecarver Scythe – Area control, soul drain with every kill.
Whisper Fang Katars – Speed-based, combo strikes, ghoststep.
Each one whispered promises of power, but none called to him.
Until he saw it.
A blade unlike the others.
It was thin. Black. Almost invisible in the dim light.
Its name wasn't etched in gold—it was carved in blood-red.
[Name: Silent Crescent]
Type: Daisho Blade
Skill Imprint: Deathline Slash – Strike through multiple enemies in a blink
Bonus Trait: Shadow Trace – Afterimage echoes your last attack 1 second later
Weapon Class: Assassin-Unique
Grade: C
Binding: Permanent
Justin reached out.
His fingers brushed the hilt, cold and smooth.
Then—
The world trembled.
Dark energy surged up his arm like liquid fire, wrapping his forearm like a living tattoo.
The blade dissolved into black particles—then reassembled, fusing to him.
A symbol—two crescent-shaped daggers intertwined in a loop—branded itself into the back of his hand.
[Silent Crescent Acquired]
Skill: Deathline Slash (Cooldown: 15 seconds)
Trait: Shadow Trace (Passive)
Speed +15
Critical Window Increased
Assassin Evolution Path Chosen
Behind him, Matilda chose hers.
Her weapon was a chain whip—The Chain Widow. It split midair into four linked blades that hissed like serpents.
As it bonded to her wrist, it whispered promises of speed and pain.
She twisted the chain in her fingers and grinned.
"Guess we're officially freaks," she said.
Justin smirked. "Speak for yourself. I've always been like this."
Suddenly, the floor rumbled beneath them.
The polished obsidian flickered as the overhead lights dimmed, casting long shadows across the chamber.
A low chime echoed.
[Warning: Player-Killer Event Activated]
Location: Floor Two – Blade Chamber
Trigger: Weapon Binding Completed
Aggressive Players Released
The eastern door slammed open with a deafening bang.
From the shadows, three figures emerged—humans. Players. But not allies.
Their armor was jagged, designed for intimidation. Their faces hidden behind masks twisted into snarls.
Each gripped a glowing weapon—freshly claimed, just like theirs.
The leader's eyes gleamed behind his spiked helm.
"Look what we have here," he growled. "Two soft-spawns holding rare gear. That means loot."
Matilda's voice was low and tense. "PVP? Already?"
Justin's fingers tightened on the hilt of his blade.
"I've killed monsters," he said quietly, stepping into a low combat stance, legs sliding silently, feet poised to spring.
"Killing people won't be any harder."
The three advanced, blades shimmering.
Justin's heart thundered.
But his mind was calm.
The first lunged.
Justin slipped left, Shadow Step rippling through his limbs. His dagger slashed in a blur, tracing a line across the attacker's exposed side.
A guttural scream tore through the chamber.
The attacker staggered, clutching a bleeding wound.
"Not bad," the second snarled, circling.
Justin didn't respond.
Instead, he blinked.
Shadow Step again.
He closed distance in an instant.
The second player barely had time to react before a dagger pierced the throat.
Blood spattered, warm and thick, against Justin's face.
Matilda was dancing, her chain whipping through the air, slicing with precision.
She caught the third opponent off-guard, tangling his legs and yanking hard.
He fell, face smashing into the floor.
Justin was already there, dagger pressed to his neck.
"Don't move."
The three players, once threatening, now lay defeated or trembling.
Justin exhaled, muscles tense.
Matilda wiped sweat from her brow.
"Welcome to Floor Two," she muttered.
Justin glanced down at his hands.
The Silent Crescent pulsed faintly, a shadowy echo of his last strike lingering in the air.
He realized then—this floor was no longer just a test of skill or strength.
It was a war.
The war for survival.
(To be continued ....)