Intelligent life forms have three primal instincts that push them onwards regardless of the circumstances. These include sexual reproduction, social interaction, and self-preservation.

The trio of adventurers met Ash’s gaze, and in a split second, they saw salvation. Laws were considered non-existent within the Dungeon, and when presented with the opportunity to live and see the light of day once more, 9 in 10 adventurers will take that chance.

“Kid, help us breakthrough!” cried out the older adventurer. He appeared to be the one tasked with guiding the two younger fighters beside him. Ash acted immediately, leaping into the pack of monsters regardless of the consequences.

Many viewed this selflessness as a flaw in somebody’s character. To throw oneself into the pits of hell for a stranger’s sake wasn’t normal, but Ash believed differently. 

He slashed wildly, utilizing the fact that the enemy was unaware of his presence to slaughter as many beasts as possible. The trio ran frantically, escaping the wave of death that chased them.

“Gaia’s Blade,” muttered the older adventurer, imbuing his blade with the power of the earth as he slashed outward, obliterating the three dire wolves that had pounced at him simultaneously.

Ash glanced at the younger pair following the man, their eyes trembling with terror. He knew they would be unable to use the magic that was bestowed upon them by the mark of the gods in their current state, but thankfully, the old man still maintained a clear line of thought.

All four adventurers finally regrouped as the snarling pack of dire wolves caught up. Ash’s eyes lit up amidst the bloodshed. There was hope. All they needed to do was work together and they’d make it out-

“!”

A thick arm shot towards Ash, gripping him by the collar of his undergarments. The boy was unable to piece together the reasoning behind the sudden movement before he was violently thrown back. 

Ash witnessed the next few seconds pass as if they were centuries. His mind and soul, both of which had believed that kindness was a virtue in such a cruel world, had been crushed in an instant.

What took years to build could so easily be destroyed. It was ironic. No matter how much work and determination Ash had to keep living his life and helping others after the passing of his parents, all it came down to was this single moment of dread.

One of the adventurers turned around, his face stricken with shock at the action. He appeared to be the same age as Ash, and visibly, he had never intended to sacrifice another soul for his survival.

“Julius! Come on you useless runt! Leave him and run!” Boomed the voice of the older adventurer, his mind and body acting on the primal instincts bestowed on them upon his birth.

Ash’s eyes linked with Julius’s, both of them realizing what was happening. Julius’s flaming red hair stood out amidst the darkness of the Dungeon, but all Ash could see was how well it fit with the splattered blood that stained the cave.

Ash had noticed that the red-haired adventurer was the most incapable in the group immediately, but for some reason, his eyes were the fiercest he had ever seen.

The dark-haired boy slammed into the ground as the direwolves leaped onto him, their teeth digging into his limbs as he let out shrieks of pain. He felt his hands slowly being ripped apart as the monstrous beasts thrashed wildly, their jaws and six paws shredding the flesh that lay before them.

Ash’s screams pierced Julius’s consciousness. The terrified boy gripped his longsword. His legs told him to flee, to save himself and forget about the boy that had been thrown away. He tried to ignore the blood gushing out from underneath the mound of monsters, but he couldn’t.

A random adventurer had risked his life for the life of a useless piece of shit like him.

“Fuck!” He roared, turning around and shooting into the pile of direwolves.

The old adventurer glanced back one final time, gritting his teeth in anger at the idiocy of his pupil before disappearing into the darkness of the tunnels, followed by his more promising student.

Ash’s blurry vision was suddenly flushed with the blinding light of flames. He was no longer capable of thinking, but something told him it was the strange boy with red hair that had decided to turn back. 

He smiled momentarily, but his happiness was fleeting as he heard a small crack beneath him. The mysterious pride that had filled his mind vanished, a single word slamming itself into his ears.

Fuck.

The ground collapsed, sending the helpless boy tumbling into the unknown abyss. He plummeted down a large hole, further and further down the Dungeon. The pressure rose to his head; the sensation that his skull was going to burst crippled his ability to think. 

Why was the earth hollow? Why was he still falling? Was he going to die?

Fortunately for the young man, his questions were answered without fault, though remaining ignorant would have been the easier way out.

The rough walls slowly began to morph as Ash descended further into the pits of hell. A glacial horror that was all too familiar suddenly consumed the boy. Two single tears escaped his eyes as the memories flooded his mind. He saw the dark hair of his mother, felt the gentle touch of her hand, heard her soft voice, and then darkness.

Ash looked around as his fall began to slow.

The walls morphed from their natural form to one touched by civilization. Something lived down here, and whatever it was, it had a visitor. An unknown swirl of energy caught the boy’s body, allowing him to remain conscious as he hit the ground.

His thump resonated throughout the chamber. Torches swirling with intense blue flames illuminated the giant room. 

“It seems we have a guest…”

Ash’s face became distorted with pure disgust. The voice, so cold yet so calm, gave the boy hallucinations of death and destruction. He saw the image of his own corpse splattered on the floor, shadows of destruction creeping around him from all angles.

Ash recalled a conversation he had had with Zane.

“There exists one race of monsters unlike any other,” had said Zane. His expression had been completely serious, something that was rare for the adventurer of lightning.

“What should I do if I come across them?” had asked Ash.

“You either run… or pray for the mercy of the gods.”

Ash met the gaze of the figure, his fear cementing itself as his eyes widened. Sitting on a giant throne was the silhouette of a monster that resembled a human, but its appearance couldn’t be further from what it truly was.

The monster’s cold cyan eyes glared at the small body before it. Its mouth slowly arched upwards, spreading into an uncontrollable grin as it reveled in the unsightly condition that Ash was in.

“You’re a Shadow…” murmured Ash. The boy could barely feel his limbs but managed to stand up, his body being carried forward by pure determination and raw hatred.

The giant remained in its kingly position, its head tilted and laying on its bent arm. 

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, young Moon,” uttered the King.

“You…I’ll fucking kill you… you’re the one who killed my parents,” whispered Ash. He found his sword implanted in the ground a small distance away. He dragged his feet forward, pitifully but with utmost resolve, towards the weapon. Ash hadn’t even realized that the monster knew his name. Driven solely by rage, he abandoned all logical thinking and continued.

The boy forced his hands to cooperate despite their horrifying state. Thick blood trickled down the handle and onto the silver blade, covering the dried goo that the slain direwolves had so generously splattered.

The Shadow did nothing but watch; observe with an insatiable curiosity that reigned over his life in the Dungeon. Finally, it chuckled, amused at the adventurer’s trivial attempts at pulling out the sword.

“Was I really the one who killed them, young Moon?”

“Shut the fuck up…”

“There is blood on your hands, yet that blood is not from the monsters you must have slain up above. No… the only blood I see on your hands is the blood of your own parents.”