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After carefully storing away the mysterious wooden plaque that seemed to carry centuries of history, Lucas took a moment to sort through his belongings once more. There wasn't anything particularly valuable left among the items he had collected—just ordinary materials, the kind that might come in handy later but held no real worth.
He then decided to sweep through the entire garden again. The place looked quiet, yet eerie, as though time itself had frozen here. Lucas examined the strange, withered white tree that stood in the center of the garden. It looked completely dead, yet it radiated an odd energy. He circled around it several times, inspecting every branch, even tugging at the roots in case something was buried beneath.
Unfortunately, there was nothing hidden, no clues or secret pathways—just an ancient, lifeless tree that stubbornly refused to reveal its secrets.
After giving up on the garden, Lucas turned his attention back to the Elf King's Court. He wondered if there might be some locked chamber or ancient mechanism that could be opened with the wooden plaque he had just found. If the plaque truly came from the Tree of Life, then perhaps it was the key to a greater mystery.
He searched every corridor and hall with precision, checking behind statues, altars, and cracked marble walls. But even after exploring every corner, there were no secret passages or hidden doors to be found. What he did find, however, were cursed elves—twisted remnants of what had once been noble spirits of the forest. Their hollow eyes glowed with hatred, and each attack was swift and deadly.
Lucas had no choice but to fight. He cut through dozens of cursed elves, his dagger flashing in the dim light, the sound of steel and the hiss of corrupted magic echoing through the halls.
When the last of them fell, Lucas exhaled slowly, wiping the blood from his blade. "Alright," he murmured, "if there's anywhere left to check, it's the Tree of Life."
He stepped through the shattered gates of the Elf Royal Court and looked toward the towering, glowing tree in the distance. Its crown stretched into the misty heavens like a bridge to another world. That was his destination—the heart of this ancient realm.
There was no need to rush. With the wooden plaque in his possession, no one else could claim the Secret Realm before him. He could take his time, explore carefully, and make sure no stone was left unturned.
He clenched the plaque in his hand and smiled with confidence. "If anyone can conquer this Secret Realm," he said to himself, "it'll be me. This key… it belongs to me."
The wooden token, carved from the sacred wood of the Tree of Life, pulsed faintly in his palm—as if agreeing with him.
Lucas made his way through the forest path leading toward the Tree of Life. Unlike before, he didn't bother to avoid the monsters in his path. Every fight was an opportunity to grow stronger, and he was determined to seize it. Instead of relying on stealth or evasion, he faced each creature head-on, slicing through beasts and spirits alike as he advanced steadily through the strange glowing woods.
That was when he stopped abruptly.
"Huh? There's… someone ahead."
Through the haze of green mist, Lucas spotted a group of five figures. The sound of clanking armor and muffled voices reached him. Both sides noticed each other at almost the same moment.
"Adventurers?" Lucas muttered under his breath.
The other group reacted quickly. Weapons were raised; shields angled forward. It was clear they were used to running into trouble in these wild lands.
"It must be another job changer who somehow found his way into the Secret Realm after we entered," one of them whispered.
Lucas narrowed his eyes, quietly analyzing them. "So I wasn't the only one who found this place," he thought. "I expected others might appear eventually, but not this soon. Just how many people made it in here?"
The group across the clearing looked strong—each of them seasoned fighters. There was a heavy-armored warrior with a massive shield, a swordsman carrying a blade almost as tall as he was, a priest holding a silver staff, an archer whose bow was already half-drawn, and a mage standing calmly in the center, eyes glowing faintly beneath his hood.
"Captain," the swordsman said, "that guy… he must be the solo player who came in before us!"
The shield warrior chuckled darkly. "Well, looks like our luck's finally turning around. Or maybe it's his bad luck for running into us."
The priest frowned. "But how did he reach this area so fast? Could he really have passed through the monsters alone?"
"Assassin, probably," the archer replied, squinting as he noticed the dagger hanging at Lucas's waist. "He must've used stealth skills to sneak through. Otherwise, there's no way he could've beaten us here."
All five of them were Level 63, high-ranked adventurers compared to most players. Lucas, however, was only Level 43—at least, that's what they'd soon find out.
Their captain, the mage, smirked. "Let's go see for ourselves."
The group began moving toward Lucas.
He didn't back down. Calmly, he pulled his dagger free, the blade glinting coldly. He remembered what every mentor at the academy had once said: "In any Secret Realm, trust no one."
Here, in a place full of rare treasures and dangerous magic, a stranger could be far more dangerous than a monster. Even with resurrection badges ensuring survival, being killed would mean a huge loss in experience and resources.
As the group approached, Lucas finally spoke. "Who are you people?"
But before he could say more, something unexpected happened.
One of the adventurers—the shield warrior—pulled out a glowing scroll and tossed it directly at him.
A faint shimmer surrounded Lucas, followed by a message flashing across his interface:
"You have been targeted by a Detection Scroll. Your class and level have been revealed."
Lucas's expression darkened immediately. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he snapped.
The shield warrior just smirked. "Oh, so you're a Level 43 Assassin, huh?"
The mage laughed quietly. "I knew it. He's way below us. No wonder he had to sneak in."
The archer lowered his bow a bit, grinning smugly. "Guess I was right. He's not strong enough to fight the monsters here. Probably ran past them all using stealth. How pathetic."
The swordsman chuckled, resting his massive blade on his shoulder. "So what do we do now, Captain? Should we send him back to the city?"
Their captain didn't answer right away. The priest, who'd been nervous earlier, finally exhaled in relief. "Good thing he's not a high-level assassin. If he were, I'd be the first one dead."
Lucas stayed silent, his fingers tightening around the dagger's hilt.
The mage finally stepped forward. "We're from the Wild Wolf Guild," he announced proudly. "Which guild are you from, stranger?"
Lucas didn't respond to the question. His tone was cold as ice. "What do you mean by throwing that detection scroll at me?"
The shield warrior slammed his shield against the ground with a loud clang. "You got a problem with that?" he taunted. "If you don't like it, use one on us. Oh wait—your level's too low to check ours!"
The entire group laughed mockingly.
Lucas's gaze sharpened. "So that's it—you're here to start a fight."
The archer nocked an arrow, aiming it straight at his chest. "We were polite before," he said with a sneer. "Maybe we should've just killed you right away."
The air grew heavy.
Lucas shifted his stance slightly, lowering his body and tightening his grip. His heart was calm, his focus absolute. These men were arrogant—but arrogance often bred mistakes.
"Last chance," Lucas said coldly. "Walk away."
The mage raised an eyebrow. "Big words from a Level 43 assassin."
"Yeah," the shield warrior laughed, "you think you can take us all on? You're ten levels below—no, twenty!"
The archer released his arrow.
But before it even reached him—Lucas vanished.
A ripple of shadow spread across the ground where he had been standing. The arrow cut through empty air.
"Where did he—?"
"Above you!" the priest screamed.
Lucas reappeared in midair, dagger gleaming, and slashed down with lethal precision. His blade cut through the archer's shoulder before the man could react, spilling crimson light instead of blood.
The archer fell back with a cry.
"Damn it! Spread out!" the mage barked, forming a quick defensive barrier as the shield warrior rushed forward.
Lucas ducked beneath the shield strike, rolled across the ground, and drove his dagger upward, hitting the shield warrior's exposed leg. Sparks of light burst as damage indicators flashed above his head.
The swordsman roared, swinging his massive blade. Lucas barely dodged in time—the weapon slammed into the ground, leaving a deep crack where he'd been a second earlier.
"Fast little bastard!" the swordsman growled.
The priest began chanting a healing spell, but Lucas's eyes flashed coldly. He vanished again. The mage tried to cast a detection spell, but Lucas's Shadow Step was faster—he appeared behind the priest and silently slit his throat, dissipating the man's form into particles of light.
"Priest down!" the archer shouted.
Lucas turned his gaze toward the mage next. The leader's smirk had vanished completely. "You picked the wrong person to mess with," Lucas said quietly.
The fight raged on, the forest glowing with bursts of magic and steel. One by one, the arrogant members of the Wild Wolf Guild fell before Lucas's speed and precision.
When the final strike ended, silence returned to the forest.
Lucas stood amidst the fading light of their defeated forms, breathing steadily.
He sheathed his dagger and muttered, "You should've just walked away."
He looted their dropped items, pocketed what was useful, and continued toward the Tree of Life—his resolve stronger than ever.
This was no longer just an exploration. It was a warning to all others who dared to cross his path.