The Great Ruins were silent.
Not the peaceful kind of silence.
The kind that waited.
Stone pillars jutted from the earth like broken teeth. Ancient walls had collapsed centuries ago, leaving scattered remains of temples and ritual circles half-buried in black soil. Strange symbols still scarred the ground, faintly glowing under the moonlight as if the land itself remembered what had once been summoned here.
Damian walked through the ruins with his hands in his coat pockets.
The air smelled wrong.
Old blood.
Rot.
Something spiritual lingered beneath it all, like the residue of countless rituals that had soaked into the earth.
Then—
Vrrr.
Something vibrated.
Damian stopped.
He pulled the black-star book from his coat.
The cover trembled faintly.
"Hm."
The book shifted in his hands, pulling slightly—as if pointing somewhere.
Damian lifted his eyes.
A cave entrance sat half-hidden behind a collapsed stone arch.
He walked toward it.
Sophie floated beside him, her expression tightening.
"This cave has a strong spirit inside it," she warned. "Be careful, Damian."
He said nothing.
He stepped inside.
The cave was wide and cold, the stone slick with moisture. Shadows stretched across the walls like veins, and faint echoes carried deeper into the earth.
The moment Damian crossed a certain point—
The book opened by itself.
The pages were blank.
For a second.
Then ink began appearing.
Letters formed slowly, like invisible hands were writing them in real time.
Damian watched silently.
The message read:
To the one who has found this book.
It is now bound to its owner and cannot be unbound until you are dead.
Damian tilted his head slightly.
"Well," he said calmly, "surprise. I can't die permanently."
The letters continued.
This is the Book of Secrets and Knowledge.
Given the right amount of spiritual aura, it will evolve.
When it upgrades, it will gain additional black stars and unlock greater knowledge.
More writing appeared.
Within this book exists knowledge of:
Medicine
Hell
Spirits
Heaven
Humans
Magic
Rituals
And many other subjects.
The next sentence formed slowly.
All knowledge is ranked in seven colors.
Red — the lowest.
Black — the highest.
The final line appeared.
This artifact should be used wisely.
I congratulate the host on their endeavor.
The ink faded.
Then the book dissolved into particles of dark light.
It sank into Damian's mind.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then—
He could see the pages.
Even without holding the book.
Inside his subconscious, blank pages hovered in an endless void, waiting to be filled.
Damian laughed.
A low, satisfied laugh.
He ran a hand through his hair, pushing the black-and-white strands back.
"Sophie," he said, "we've struck gold."
She sighed.
"Sure. Don't be so dark about it."
Then—
RUMBLE.
The cave shook.
Heavy footsteps thundered deeper within the tunnel.
Something big was coming.
And then they appeared.
Two Undead High Orcs.
Thirteen feet tall.
Their skin was gray and decayed, muscles still massive despite the rot. Rusted armor clung to their bodies, and both carried enormous weapons—an axe and a jagged blade.
Their hollow eyes locked onto Damian.
They charged.
Damian stood still.
"I've got some hunting to do."
Then he moved.
He ran straight toward the first orc.
At the last moment, Damian slid across the cave floor, gliding beneath the monster's legs. His body moved with fluid agility that hadn't existed before Stage Three.
He planted a foot against the orc's thigh.
Ran up its leg.
In one smooth motion, he reached its head.
His palm touched the skull.
"Devour."
A pulse of energy erupted.
The undead essence of the orc was ripped out like smoke being vacuumed into Damian's body.
The creature collapsed instantly.
Dust.
Ash.
Gone.
Damian landed lightly.
Something had changed.
Now that he had reached Stage Three, his body had unlocked something new.
He could learn martial arts.
His reflexes were faster. His stamina greater. His agility sharper.
But more importantly—
His countless deaths had given him a terrifying advantage.
He could predict movements.
And he had developed a trait born purely from suffering.
Adaptation.
The second High Orc roared and swung its axe downward.
Damian stepped back.
The axe slammed into the ground where he had been standing.
Inside Damian's mind—
The Book of Secrets reacted.
Some of the undead essence he had devoured flowed into the pages.
Words began forming on the second page.
Damian read them instantly.
High Orcs
Weaknesses: head, legs.
Vulnerable to speed-based attacks.
Extremely slow.
Recommended approach: tactical engagement.
Damian smiled.
He ran straight at the monster.
The High Orc raised its axe again.
Too slow.
Damian kicked its right leg.
The impact forced the massive creature to kneel.
Damian used the kneeling position as leverage.
He jumped.
His fist smashed into the orc's face.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
He kept punching.
Over and over.
His knuckles split.
Bone cracked.
But he kept going.
And he was smiling.
Finally—
The orc's skull burst open.
Blood sprayed violently across the cave.
Damian stood on the monster's chest.
The blood rained across his coat and face.
His arms spread outward—not perfectly straight, but slightly arched upward like a distorted T.
Above him, a small crack in the cave ceiling revealed the moon.
Silver light spilled down.
It illuminated Damian's face as blood continued spraying upward from the destroyed skull beneath him.
He stared at the moon.
Unblinking.
In Sophie's mind, a single thought appeared.
Is he high or what…
The blood slowed.
The cave fell silent again.
Damian crouched down beside the corpse.
"Devour."
The remaining undead aura flowed into him.
He stood up slowly.
Wiped a line of blood from his cheek with the back of his hand.
Then he looked deeper into the cave.
Where the stronger presence waited.
His voice was calm.
"Now…"
A faint smile appeared.
"Let's get to that spirit."