King Gulben fought without hesitation. This was not his first experience inside a realm like this. Even though the scenery and atmosphere were different, the foundation of the place was familiar to him, too familiar even.

He remembered what's inside the Codex of Blood.

Within that ancient tome, every Elven king possessed a private realm to sharpen their might. The method was eerily similar: enter the dimension, slay the monsters that manifested, and absorb their essence to strengthen one's body and Magic.

The king had never questioned its origin because it had existed for generations, known only to the rulers of the Elf Palace. But now, seeing Erend's Dimension he couldn't shake a quiet suspicion.

Maybe Erend's Dungeon World and the Codex of Blood shared a forgotten root.

Maybe they came from the same ancient lineage of Magic. Or maybe they were crafted by the same hand.

He kept the thought to himself. It did not matter now.

King Gulben distanced himself from the others, stepping across the meadow where the grass bent under waves of humming energy. He wanted space with enough room to unleash his power without putting Aurdis or the others at risk.

Aurdis, who had been supporting him moments earlier, obeyed his quiet instruction and moved to handle her own cluster of monsters.

The king exhaled once. The gold runes along his arms ignited.

The golden light of Magic burst from him in a sharp pulse, rippling across the field like a shockwave.

Three monsters rushed toward him. One of them was a towering jade bull again, a trio of grass-skinned goblins, and a wind-wolf whose body flickered like a chaotic wind. Their roars converged, but King Gulben met them with calm precision.

He raised his sword. Golden light surged along the blade blazing like a sliver of sun.

He swung it, and a crescent arc of golden Magic split the air, slicing through the wolf in a single instant. Its body shattered into a swirling essence that spiraled into his chest, strengthening him.

The goblins leapt next, but the king simply rotated his wrist and traced a circle with the tip of his sword.

Golden chains burst from the ground, impaling the creatures through their torsos and pinning them in midair.

He flicked his fingers. They disintegrated into specks of shimmering dust.

The jade bull roared and charged.

King Gulben slid his stance. The earth cracked beneath his feet as he infused more Magic through his limbs, gilding his entire body in luminous gold.

He thrust his sword forward. A beam of concentrated golden force tore through the bull's skull and out its spine.

The beast collapsed with a thunderous crash, then dissolved into threads of emerald essence that flowed into him.

He inhaled sharply as power settled in his veins.

Not bad. Not so different from the realm inside the Codex.

He continued fighting with sharp and refined movements and was devoid of wasted effort. This place would serve him well.

—

On another side of the field, Aurdis and Aerchon fought back-to-back, but not too close to each other. They maintain their own radius of movement.

Aurdis faced a cluster of crystalline mantis-like monsters with bodies carved from translucent jade, their limbs sharp and flickering with green light. They clicked and darted unpredictably,l.

Aurdis extended her hand and a spiral of fire erupted and swallowed the first insect in a burst of orange.

She followed it with a snap of her fingers, calling a lance of lightning that pierced another creature clean through. Its crystal body shattered, sparks scattering across the grass.

Two more creatures leapt toward her.

She twisted her wrist and shot thin and sharp blades of water, slicing them in the air. Their remains melted into streams of essence that wrapped around her arms before sinking into her skin.

Nearby, Aerchon fought a different kind of monster, a towering reptilian beast covered in jagged stone plates and burning orange runes.

It swung its heavy arms, smashing the ground with enough force to crack open the meadow floor.

Aerchon's sword gleamed with layered Magic. There was wind around the blade, fire at the edge, and lightning sparking along the runes etched into the metal. All at once.

He met the monster's strike, his sword trailing streaks of elements as he slashed.

Wind Magic exploded, cutting through the creature's torso. Fire erupted from the wound. Lightning crawled across its plates, shattering stone and flesh.

The beast crumbled in the blink of an eye, then vanished into essence that surged into him. Aerchon rolled his shoulders, exhaling an impressed breath.

Aurdis moved to the next wave. Aerchon followed suit. They did not need to speak and only fight.

—

Meanwhile, Adrien and Billy stood a little bit far from them. They were close enough to help each other, but far enough to avoid interfering with each other's battle.

The two soldiers from the human world grinned as monsters rushed them.

Adrien unleashed a sudden wave of force from his palm, a blast of raw Magic slammed into a group of goblins and crushed them into the earth. His Magic had no elegant structure like the Elves' Magic but it worked and it was brutally effective.

Billy laughed as he summoned a wall of blue flames.

"This is pretty fun, captain!"

He jabbed his hand forward. Columns of flame erupted from the ground, swallowing a charging beast whole.

The creature melted instantly, dissolving into streams of essence that flowed into Billy's chest.

Adrien wasn't one to be outdone even though he did t say anything. He stomped the ground, sending a wave of telekinetic shock that launched three monsters into the air before he shot them down with crackling bolts of lightning.

"Damn, this place is addictive," Billy shouted over the clash.

Adrien nodded with a solemn face as always, wiping blood from his cheek. "Lets make use of this chance well, Brook."

"Yes, captain," Billy said as he fired another barrage of explosive Magic. "We need this power."

The two soldiers moved in sync. They look clumsy compared to the Elves, rough around the edges, but they were still unstoppable in raw destructive force.

The meadow shook under their combined assault.

And above it all, essence flowed into every fighter, making them stronger with every kill.

This was only Level 1 and they were already rising.

Arty and Sylmira fought their own battles a short distance apart. They were each claiming a portion of the meadow as their arena.

Arty charged into the monsters without a weapon, armor, or even a moment of hesitation. She relied entirely on raw destructive elemental power. Fire and wind roared from her hands.

A blast of fire erupted from her palm, engulfing a wolf-like creature and reducing it to vapor before it even hit the ground.

She followed it with a whip of wind that sliced through the next monster, sending its shattered pieces scattering before they dissolved into drifting essence that surged into her chest.

The impacts of her attack shook the field and every step she took was wrapped in violent heat and spiraling gales.

There was anger in her movements, more than usual. Arty didn't question it. She thought it was normal and thought of it as the natural fury born from wanting to reach Zerathul as fast as possible and tear him apart for what he had done. That burning drive filled her heart, sharpened her breath, and electrified her veins.

But something else stirred beneath that fury.

A faint glint of red flickered in her eyes only for a heartbeat each time, but it wasn't hers. It slipped in and out like a whisper trying to surface.

Arty didn't notice it. She was already moving to the next enemy, flames spiraling around her arms before she launched them forward in a violent blast.

However, Sylmira sensed something strange from her.

While the Archmage fought her own opponents which were spectral beasts made of swirling runes, she kept glancing toward Arty with wary eyes.

Sylmira's hands danced in precise gestures, ice spikes exploding around her as she dispatched a group of razor-feathered birds. But her expression tightened with each flicker she saw from Arty's direction.

She recognized corrupted power when she saw it.

Sylmira's monsters fell one by one beneath elegant bursts of frost and shimmering shields, but her gaze lingered on Arty's back, watching the growing storm of fire and wind, the rage.

Meanwhile, far across the meadow, Erend watched Arty with his arms crossed, his expression sharpened by the slitted glow of his Dragon eyes.

The enhanced sight let him catch every detail in her movements. She fought with a ferocity that was much bigger than she usually has. Something in her rhythm felt almost unstable.

Eccar stepped beside him, resting a hand on his hip as he watched the others.

"This level is way too easy for them," he said in a casual tone. "They're tearing through this like nothing. We should send them to level 50. That's where you and I started, remember?"

"Level 50 is too much," he replied with a chuckle. His gaze stayed on Arty as another wave of fire burst from her hands. "But you're right about one thing. Level 1 is useless for them. They need something real to push their growth."

He nodded.

"We're moving to a higher level."

—