"The Silent Ascension"

The sun's light trickled through the grimy window of my cramped room, its warmth barely cutting through the chill that hung in the air. My body protested as I sat up, every muscle stiff and sore from the fight with the Shadow Stalker. My injured arm ached beneath its hastily wrapped bandage, though the bleeding had mostly stopped.

The golden crystal at my waist pulsed faintly, its hum soft and steady, like a heartbeat in the quiet room. I rubbed my face, trying to shake off the haze of sleep as I opened the system interface.

---

[Idle Progression Active]

Health Restored: 35/50

Stamina Restored: 20/25

Passive Stat Growth: +1 Strength, +1 Dexterity

Points Available: 2

---

A faint smile tugged at my lips. Even while I slept, the system had worked in the background, slowly but steadily making me stronger. My wounds weren't fully healed, but I felt better—more stable. The [Idle Progression] feature was proving itself to be a lifesaver, quite literally.

I switched to the [Stats] tab, considering how to allocate the two new points. After my encounter with the Shadow Stalker, I knew I needed to be faster and more durable to survive.

Dexterity: +1

Constitution: +1

---

[Stat Allocation Complete]

---

The faint warmth that spread through my body was reassuring, though it didn't erase the ache in my limbs. Satisfied, I closed the interface and swung my legs over the side of the bed. It was time to prepare for another dive into the Dungeon.

---

The Hollow Oak's common room was sparsely populated, the few patrons nursing mugs of ale or picking at stale bread. Rence, the innkeeper, nodded curtly as I passed by, his wrinkled face as unreadable as ever.

The main square of Fort Varen was already bustling, the sounds of merchants hawking their wares and adventurers boasting of their exploits filling the air. I navigated the crowd with practiced ease, heading toward the market stalls to stock up on supplies.

But as I reached for a bundle of dried rations at a merchant's stall, a voice called out behind me, sharp and unmistakable.

"Well, well, if it isn't the runt."

I froze, my hand tightening around the bundle of rations. I turned slowly, my heart sinking as I saw Byran standing a few feet away, his arms crossed and a smug grin plastered across his face.

Byran was everything I wasn't—tall, broad-shouldered, and blessed with an innate Talent that made him one of the town's top adventurers. His power allowed him to manipulate stone, a skill he used as much for intimidation as for combat. He was a bully, plain and simple, and he'd made my life miserable for as long as I could remember.

"What do you want, Byran?" I asked, keeping my voice calm despite the knot of anger tightening in my chest.

Byran's grin widened as he stepped closer, his two lackeys trailing behind him. "I heard you went into the Dungeon," he said, his tone dripping with mockery. "Didn't think you had the guts, runt."

"I managed," I said evenly, turning back to the merchant and placing a few coins on the counter.

But Byran wasn't finished. He reached out and grabbed my injured arm, his grip crushing as he yanked me around to face him. Pain shot through my shoulder, and I gritted my teeth to keep from crying out.

"You managed, huh?" he said, his eyes narrowing. "What's this, then?" He gestured toward the bandage on my arm, his smirk growing. "Get a little too close to a rabbit down there?"

The knot of anger in my chest tightened further, and I wrenched my arm free of his grip. "Back off, Byran."

His grin faltered for a moment, replaced by a flicker of annoyance. But then he laughed, stepping back and raising his hands in mock surrender. "Relax, runt. Just having a bit of fun."

---

I turned to leave, clutching the rations tightly, but Byran's voice stopped me again.

"Hey, runt," he called, his tone suddenly sharper. "You better not think you're anything special, just because you walked out of that Dungeon alive."

I froze, the golden crystal at my waist pulsing faintly as a surge of anger threatened to boil over. I turned back to face him, my jaw clenched.

"I don't think I'm special," I said, my voice low and steady. "But I'm not the same weakling you're used to pushing around, either."

Byran's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought he was going to attack me right there in the middle of the square. But then he smirked, his expression cold.

"We'll see about that," he said. "Next time you go into that Dungeon, don't expect to come out."

---

I didn't respond. I turned and walked away, my knuckles white as I gripped the rations in my hand. The golden crystal pulsed faintly at my side, its warmth a reminder that I wasn't entirely alone.

Byran's words echoed in my mind as I made my way back to the edge of the square, my anger simmering just beneath the surface. The confrontation had left me shaken, but it had also strengthened my resolve.

Byran could sneer all he wanted. I didn't care what he thought of me. The only thing that mattered now was growing stronger—strong enough to survive whatever the Dungeon threw at me next.

I glanced at the horizon, where the jagged hills surrounding the Dungeon loomed in the distance. The system had saved me once, and I had a feeling it wasn't done with me yet.

It was time to dive back in.