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... defensive force.

He was pleased, seeing the result.

"It failed to pierce it, but it did make a mark."

He looked at the swords around him, whose flight was maintained by his aura.

He stored them in his subspace, thinking, "Although these aura swords can't be compared to a runic weapon as they lack a conspicuous special effect, they are high-quality weapons based on the fact that they can fly if one's inner energy or the world's energy is channeled into them. Not to mention ...

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“I hope you don’t fall in love with me, because I won’t be taking responsibility,” warned the young man. “Don’t worry, I won’t fall in love with a body double,” the employer dully replied. Yet, both of them forgot what they had said.

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The Empire's forces retreated in desperation—trampled by faceless horrors bringing darkness and death to these once beautiful lands.Only the most courageous stood in defiance, forming a last defence to buy the people time to flee—fighting until the final embers of hope burned out.A man stands with a silver sword, like a beacon of hope to those around him. He roared with all his might drawing his blade against the overwhelming enemy!“You face Lancelot, Sword of the Empire! ”These horrors tested the Lord's grit and loyalty in the final moments.“Should my blade break, I will use my body!”The knights had fallen, broken swords for their tombstones, and lords fled, betraying the Empire to survive.“If my body breaks, I'll use my Soul!”Lancelot, the sword of the Empire, fought alone.All hope seemed lost.“And if my Soul fails...”What could a single man and his army do?He fights against the dark tide, blade in hand, heart on sleeve.“I will sell myself to the devil for revenge!”But he was too weak, too fragile.The last Lord of humanity stood against the enemy.Lancelot was a master of the sword, a mortal, neither a God nor a Saint.Miracles were beyond his reach.Now only a broken man impaled on his own destroyed throne.His blade shattered—now, like rose petals, it was scattered across the charred ground.Lancelot's soul was fated for the abyss as the light faded from his eyes.His last ounce of resistance used staring at the man who betrayed the Empire.Now with only the desire to kill, crush and seek revenge smouldering inside him.Now unwilling to die and desperate to fight once again.He desired to fight for the people who supported him.Lancelot refused to surrender, to fall like this.As quietly in the abyss, a voice whispered to him.It tried to entice the Lord, ignite his desire to win and fight again.“If given a second chance, to relive your life with a different choice... Would you Accept?”Blood gathered in his throat, forcing him to reply in his mind.A frail and broken voice'There is no reason to ask, of course!'“No matter the cost?”'Even if I were to lose everything...''If my people can live on. I would sacrifice everything I have!'“You will no longer be the same, a monster, twisted and vicious.”“Will you still accept?”The Lord's heart ached, taking great pride in his humanity.To lose that caused his mind to falter.Finally, out of power, unable to speak or reply with a trembling arm.Lancelot reached out.Towards the raspy voice.Towards the abyss.Towards a new future.[So you would accept after all...]'I must accept.''I must stand tall.''I must not break.''Because...''I am the Lord of humanity![Nay, you are the king of demons]

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In a world where dungeon runners rise to fame by mastering their classes and conquering impossible threats, Alexander was never meant to be part of it. No class. No path. Just a quiet life.When a mysterious portal drags him into a hidden realm known as his Inner Path, Alexander unlocks a class no one has seen before: Beholder. There’s no fanfare. No guidance. Only eyes that see too much, and power that threatens to unravel his mind with every use.Now, trapped in an abyssal dungeon that reshapes itself around eldritch laws, Alexander must survive alone.But with each victory, his vision sharpens. His spells twist reality. And the deeper he goes, the more the world outside should start to worry.Because when he returns-They won’t be able to look away.

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The call of the nightmare realm cannot be denied, the woven fate is inevitable.

His ability to travel to the nightmare realm granted him immortality but also pit him with an unfamiliar world, curses and magics unseen before in the real world.

Monsters of unknown origin, macabre beasts and horrors beyond the ken of man have taken the place of old inhabitants of a once glorious civilization.

Now under the light of the Clairvoyant Moon the nightmare realm is on the verge of destruction. Here you will find dishonorable knights, mad sorcerers, twisted alchemist, the malformed Lost Ones and the vestiges of old gods all converging in a dead world.

But there are also those who seek to undo the curse, to restore the world. There are scavengers that only want to survive, the seekers of truth that seek the secrets of old.

And then there’s Aldrich who plans to exploit the resources and powers of the nightmare realm to achieve his own goals.

The epic tale of struggle against impossible odds and enemies bigger than life.

What Aldrich will find outside his little village will not just test the limits of his will, but also his sanity.

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Aldrich, is a fifteen year old boy, living in a small village called Wakefield, he dreams of being a Crestmaster.

On the day Aldrich awakens his Crest, Wakefield is attacked and burned.

He is the only survivor, barely making it out with a mysterious gift, a heavy mission and dire warnings to never turn back.

He is then told to forget about what he saw and the innocent villagers that died, to never ask questions. All things Aldrich could never do.

One day he will uncover the forces behind the massacre and take his revenge. But for now he will lower his head and pretend that nothing has happened.

For now.