READ NOVEL ONLINE Chapter 2: The First Steps
The silence in the throne room was suffocating, broken only by the flickering of distant torches. Morrath stood among the broken bodies of soldiers who had tried and failed to kill him. Their armor was dented, their weapons scattered, and their blood pooled on the cracked stone floor. His breathing was uneven, his mind still grappling with the impossible reality before him.
[Threat neutralized. Remaining forces: Unknown.]
The system's words floated before his eyes, cold and detached. His gauntleted fingers tightened into fists, the metal creaking under the strain. The victory felt hollow, as though he were merely going through the motions of a role he didn't fully understand.
The cracked remains of a mirror caught his eye. His reflection stared back at him: crimson eyes glowing, black armor smeared with blood. He was Morrath, a figure that radiated power and fear. Yet deep down, Frank lingered—uncertain, questioning, and painfully aware of his old insecurities.
"This is real," Morrath whispered, his voice low but steady. "So what do I do now?"
The throne room was a ruin of its former self, the grandeur of its past reduced to cracked columns and tattered banners. It was a place where history had died, and Morrath could feel its weight pressing down on him.
His gaze fell on a shattered mirror. Morrath's crimson eyes stared back at him from the broken glass, unyielding and fierce, his reflection seemed to challenge him to move forward. If this system had brought him here, it must have answers somewhere. He couldn't afford to stand idle.
With renewed determination, Morrath left the ruined throne room, his footsteps echoing through the empty halls. He explored cautiously, observing his surroundings while trying to recall the mechanics of the game. The castle had once been a sprawling fortress, but now it was a decayed ruin. Dust coated the stone floors, and banners hung in tatters from the walls.
[New Objective: Establish Dominion.]
The notification appeared suddenly, and Morrath's brow furrowed. He muttered under his breath, "Establish dominion? Over what? Ghosts and rubble?" But the thought lingered. If this was his second chance, the path forward began here.
A new notification appeared in his vision.
[Enemy class: Lesser Demon detected.]
Morrath's stomach tightened. He'd fought these creatures in the game countless times, but this wasn't a game anymore. There were no second chances or respawns. This was real.
From the darkness emerged a hunched figure, its gray skin stretched over a wiry frame. Its glowing yellow eyes fixed on him with predatory hunger, and its jagged teeth gleamed in the torchlight. The creature moved erratically, its body twitching with every step as it circled him like a wolf preparing to pounce.
Morrath steadied his stance, his body screaming in protest under the weight of the armor. "Alright, you ugly bastard," he growled, a sharp grin pulling at his lips. "Let's dance. I'll lead—just try to keep up."
The demon lunged, claws slashing the air. Morrath barely managed to parry, the impact sending painful vibrations through his arms. He stumbled back, sweat pooling beneath his helmet. The demon pressed its attack, moving too fast for him to counter. Morrath rolled away as its claws tore into the stone where he had just stood moments before.
The system chimed.
[Weapon ineffective. Target requires enhanced damage.]
"Thanks for the tip," Morrath snapped, sarcasm masking his rising panic. He sidestepped another strike, his boots scraping against the floor. The demon snarled, its movements becoming more aggressive as it sensed his weakness.
A new message appeared.
[Shadow Edge available. Channel power to sharpen attacks and increase destructive force.]
Morrath hesitated, the memory of the shadows flooding his mind. The power had felt uncontrollable, dangerous. But the demon wasn't going to wait for him to decide. It lunged again, and instinct took over. He focused on the notification, letting the dark energy flow through him.
The shadows coiled around his arms, merging with the rusted blade. The weapon pulsed with an ominous glow, its dull edge now alive with a sinister aura. The demon hesitated, its instincts warning it of the sudden shift in power.
This time, Morrath didn't hesitate. He stepped forward, his swing fueled by desperation and fury. The blade carved through the demon's torso, the shadows leaving a trail of black mist as the creature collapsed. It let out a final, gurgling snarl before disintegrating into ash.
Morrath stood over the remains, his chest heaving. The sword in his hand felt lighter as the dark energy dissipated. Another notification blinked into view.
[Threat eliminated. Rank Progression: 20%.]
He lowered the blade, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. "Twenty percent," he muttered. "Feels like I just ran a marathon and got paid in loose change."
The silence returned, but it wasn't comforting. It was the kind of silence that reminded him how empty the castle really was. He looked around the ruined throne room, the weight of his new reality pressing down on him again. He needed answers—about this world, about what the system wanted from him.Frank made his way to the castle's entry doors and pushed them open to investigate if the outside world was indeed Underworld Online. To his disbelief, he saw that it was, he needed to test out things to be ready for whatever came next.
Outside the castle, Morrath wandered the surrounding area. The system revealed basic commands and functions: summoning a map, toggling skill trees, and identifying nearby threats. He tested his abilities cautiously, slashing at boulders and trees with Shadow Edge. The power was intoxicating, but it unsettled him—the shadows writhed unnaturally, as though they had a mind of their own.
Hours passed as Morrath ventured farther from the castle. He encountered low-tier enemies—wild beasts corrupted by faint traces of demonic energy. A pack of Shadow Wolves attacked him as he entered a forest. The creatures moved quickly, their black fur blending with the dim light filtering through the trees.
Morrath's sword cut through the first wolf with ease, the dark energy of Shadow Edge enhancing the blade's lethality. The system chimed as the others hesitated, their yellow eyes flickering with uncertainty.
[Threat eliminated. Rank Progression: 22%.]
But even as Morrath dispatched the remaining wolves, a sense of unease gnawed at him. The system's mechanical detachment, the ease with which he wielded such destructive power—it all reminded him too much of the game. It felt unreal, as though his actions lacked true consequence. Yet the blood on his armor and the strain in his muscles told a different story.
He stopped at a clearing, gazing at the sky as the light began to fade. "Is this all there is?" he murmured. "Killing, leveling up… is that what my second chance is supposed to be?"
As dusk fell, Morrath entered a deeper part of the forest. The air grew colder, the trees twisted and gnarled. He felt an inexplicable weight pressing down on him, as though the very forest was watching. Shadows seemed to shift at the edges of his vision, but when he turned, there was nothing there.
His grip on his sword tightened as he moved cautiously forward. The system displayed no alerts, but Morrath's instincts screamed that something was wrong. The presence was subtle but unmistakable—an unseen force observing his every move.
Stopping in a small grove, Morrath glanced around, his voice low but firm. "Who's there?"
The only response was the rustling of leaves, carried on a breeze that seemed colder than before. Morrath's crimson eyes scanned the darkness, but nothing emerged.
For now, the presence remained hidden, leaving Morrath to question whether it was real—or merely his imagination. As he pressed deeper into the forest, the unease clung to him like a second skin. Whatever was out there, he had the distinct feeling that it was waiting.