SSS Unknown: Dark Knight's Legacy

The faint ding echoed in the silence, a sharp contrast to the agony that wracked Unknown's body. 

His breath came in shallow gasps, his muscles trembling with every desperate movement. He was clinging to life, his body battered and bruised from the relentless battle, but his spirit remained unyielding.

His vision swam in and out of focus, the world around him a blur of shadows and pain. He could barely process what was happening, but then—a bright, blinking notification appeared before him.

SYSTEM NOTIFICATION:

Status Update

Name: Unknown

Class: Survivor → Fighter

Level: 20

HP: 50/1050

MP: 10/40

Strength: 25

Agility: 30

Endurance: 25

Skill: Survival Instinct → Fighting Instinct

Skill: Fire Spark

Skill: Accel

Ability: Unknown Mutation → Survival Mutation

Skill Points: 5

The notification flashed in his mind, its cold, mechanical words slicing through the haze of exhaustion and pain. A new class. A new set of skills.

He barely had the energy to comprehend it all, but his instincts were sharper than ever, and something in him stirred at the mention of "Fighter."

'Survival Instinct → Fighting Instinct?' His mind raced, but the new information came too fast for him to fully process. His gaze locked on the list, his heart pounding in his chest.

The battle had taken everything from him, but somehow—he had leveled up. He was still alive.

He gritted his teeth, feeling the weight of the injuries. Every part of his body screamed for him to stop, to just give in. But there was no stopping now.

'Fighting Instinct...' It was a skill that he could feel deep inside him, a sharpened awareness of every movement in the air around him, every muscle twitch in his opponent's body.

He could feel the faintest stir of energy within him, even if his MP was zero.

The Survival Mutation was another enigma, but something told him it was a key to his continued existence. This wasn't just about surviving anymore.

It was about fighting, pushing forward, using the pain, and the weariness to fuel a deeper instinct.

His hands trembled, but his grip tightened around the hilt of his weapon. His body might have been broken, but his will was unshaken. Unknown had become a Fighter.

"Not yet," he muttered to himself, voice hoarse. He couldn't die yet. It couldn't be. He still had a chance.

His eyes flickered toward the remnants of the Death Knight's armor, the purple fragment still lying in the distance. Despite his injuries, the world around him began to sharpen.

The notification had triggered something inside him—a realization that he wasn't just a survivor anymore. He could fight back.

His breathing slowed, and in that moment, the intensity in his eyes shifted. It's time to make my move.

With a surge of determination, he pulled himself to his feet, his legs wobbling beneath him. The world was still spinning, but the new strength he felt inside him was undeniable. 

He scanned the surroundings, searching for his next move. The dungeon was silent now, the threat of the Death Knight seemingly gone. 

But something else lingered, a heavy tension in the air. The system had marked this as a turning point. 

And Unknown, now a Fighter, knew one thing for sure—he wasn't just going to survive. He was going to conquer.

"Yes, I will conquer this place."

***

"Shit, I missed."

With a sharp breath, Unknown cursed under his breath as his crystal-tipped arrows sailed through the air, finding their marks only partially.

The [shadow wolves] darted in and out of the darkness, their forms impossibly swift and barely visible. Thin, ghostly figures, these creatures thrived in the shadows, making them a nightmare to fight.

He loosed another volley, this time a quicker series of five arrows. Two struck home, but only one landed deep enough to cause a fatal blow. The others were deflected by the wolves' uncanny agility, their bodies twisting and shifting in the shadows, avoiding the projectiles.

The wolves, now aware they were being hunted, seemed to grow more cautious, shifting tactics. Instead of charging straight at him, they began to circle, weaving in and out of the darkness, looking for an opening.

'Damn these things.'

In that moment, Unknown dropped the bow, the string still vibrating from the last shot. He gritted his teeth, feeling the sweat drench his skin as the remaining wolves lunged.

They were fast—too fast. He could already hear the low growls building in the silence, the sound of their paws padding closer.

"Annoying," he muttered, irritated.

With a flick of his wrist, he drew his Dark Blade. The weight of the sword felt comforting in his hand. Since his fight with the Death Knight, he had improved immensely in close-quarters combat.

His muscles had been pushed beyond their limits, and while he still felt the fatigue of earlier battles, he knew that these wolves, despite their speed and stealth, weren't much of a match for him.

The three wolves charged at him in unison, a deadly and synchronized attack. But instead of backing away, Unknown did the unexpected: he leapt forward. The power in his legs exploded as he propelled himself straight at the first wolf, his blade a blur of darkness and fury.

With a single, precise slash, the first wolf's throat was opened. It crumpled to the ground in a heap, its shadowy form evaporating into the air like smoke.

The remaining two wolves, undeterred, shifted into the shadows. The first wolf's death had only fueled their rage, and they vanished in an instant, becoming part of the dark environment around him.

'Shit, they're using their cloaking again.'

Unknown didn't hesitate. His eyes narrowed as he focused, feeling the magical energy inside him surge. He activated [Magic Vision], a spell he had asked the system to unlock with 3 skill points.

The magic flowed into his eyes, transforming his sight. The world around him dimmed, the shadows seeming to recede as patches of magical energy became visible to him—pulses of mana left by the wolves' movements.

With this new perspective, he could see the faint outlines of the wolves as they shifted through the darkness. Their positions became clear, the thin wisps of magic giving away their every move.

The first wolf attacked from his left, its claws aimed for his throat. He barely dodged the blow, spinning out of the way just in time. The second wolf came from the right, but Unknown was ready. Using the momentum from the first dodge, he swung his blade in a swift arc.

The wolf's body was slashed across its chest, a deep gash opening up along its side. It staggered back, blood—black as the shadows it came from—spraying across the ground. In the blink of an eye, the wolf tried to retreat into the shadows, but Unknown was faster.

He took a step forward, his instincts guiding him as he swung again. The blade found its mark, cleaving through the wolf's midsection. It let out a guttural growl, but it was too late.

With the second wolf dead, the last one's position was revealed, its form now visible by the blood that had splattered across the ground.

Unknown used the momentum of his previous strike to pivot, spinning on his heel as his Dark Blade swung downward.

The final wolf had nowhere to go. Its body fell with a sickening thud, its form dissipating into the shadows just like the others before it.

Panting, sweat dripping from his brow, Unknown stood tall. His chest heaved, his body aching with the toll of battle, but there was no time to rest. His sword was coated in black blood, the remnants of the shadow wolves' cursed existence still sticking to it like oil.

"Phew, done."

Looking down at the bow discarded on the ground, Unknown let out a sigh of relief. He had survived the fight, but the toll it took on him was undeniable. 

He didn't particularly enjoy using the bow. It felt... detached. Too much of a distance between him and the target. 

Though he had to admit, mixing long-range and short-range attacks was effective. Close combat, however, that was where he felt most alive—the thrill of the fight, the pulse of his own heart pounding as he wove through the chaos.

After dealing with the last wolf, he turned his attention back to the bodies of the shadow wolves. He quickly retrieved a bottle of slime juice from his pouch, the thick, viscous liquid sloshing inside. It was time to burn the bodies.

It wasn't just about cleanliness. He had learned the hard way that leaving the bodies of magical creatures to decay was a mistake. The dark magical energy embedded in their remains was like a beacon, drawing all sorts of unwanted attention. 

He had been ambushed before by a horde of Skeletons and shadow wolves after failing to properly dispose of his kills.

That mistake had almost cost him his life. He had sensed the disturbance in the magical flow just in time and managed to burn the remains before the situation escalated too far. But he didn't intend to make that mistake again.

As the slime juice hit the wolves' bodies, a sickly greenish liquid began to leak from their fur. The fire ignited quickly, fueled by the magical essence within them.

The bodies burned with an unsettling crackle, the flames casting eerie shadows across the ground.

The stench of burning flesh filled the air—foul, sickly, unbearable. It was enough to make his stomach churn. He recoiled at the smell, almost gagging. The putrid scent clung to the air, seeping into his clothes and skin.

'Foul and putrid, huh?'

He briefly considered using the remains to smoke out a rat nest he had spotted earlier in the cave, but quickly dismissed the thought.

The idea of carrying around rotting meat wasn't exactly appealing, and the trouble of dealing with the rats wasn't worth the effort. He had enough to deal with in this hellish place.

Instead, he focused on the fire, keeping a watchful eye on the bodies as they burned. The flames would do their job, erasing the dark magical residue and preventing any more monsters from being drawn to the area.

He couldn't afford to relax yet. There was something on his mind right now.

"Let's see... maybe it's right around here."

Unknown muttered to himself, scanning the map he had discovered before. His fingers brushed the old parchment, tracing the lines of the marks that had been made on it. The map had been surprisingly well-preserved, considering the time and the conditions of the place.

"It was actually because I got lost in that stream that I was able to get so many useful things."

The memories of that eerie, mist-shrouded stream flooded his mind. What was supposed to be a simple exploration turned into something far more treacherous.

But in the end, it had been worth it. The first thing he'd obtained was the Dark Blade, a sharp and durable sword with a blackened edge, its power subtly radiating with every swing—strong, reliable, and formidable.

The second was the rusty armor. At first glance, it had seemed like nothing more than scrap, old and corroded. 

But after some time spent repairing and polishing it, Unknown had discovered that the armor was not only usable, but far lighter than it appeared. It molded comfortably to his frame and gave him better mobility than most pieces of heavy armor ever could.

The last thing, and perhaps the most valuable, was his position on the map. The stream, though it wasn't circled, was marked, giving him a sense of direction. At least he had somewhere to go.

One was an ancient tower, another was a ruin, and the last, a desolate area with no clear purpose. 

It wasn't exactly a treasure map, but it certainly pointed toward places worth exploring.

By now, Unknown had pieced together enough information to understand the nature of this dungeon.

The more he explored, the clearer it became: this dungeon wasn't just a random underground labyrinth. It was a ruin, the result of some massive explosion or event that had shattered everything in its path. 

The epicenter of this catastrophe, the very point where he had awakened, was likely the cause of this devastation. Someone had gone to great lengths to bury it deep underground and recreate the landscape.

Perhaps it was to hide the truth.

The tower, one of the key points on the map, stood as proof of this theory. An ancient structure at the edge of the dungeon, its crumbling walls serving as a silent testament to a once-glorious past. 

The pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together, but they only raised more questions. What had happened here? Why was this place buried? And who—or what—was responsible for it?

With the map in hand, Unknown glanced at the circled locations, each a potential key to unlocking the mystery of the dungeon. One thing was certain—he wasn't done exploring just yet.