Surviving These Unfair Scenarios [LITRPG - DIMENSION HOPPING]

Inside the depths of the imperial catacombs, beneath the broken city, the ground trembled under the weight of an escalating battle. Every corridor echoed with snarls, crashes, and the twisted laughter of unnatural beasts. Shadows danced along cracked stone as flashes of energy flared, and at the center of it all stood the towering, monstrous form of Ernst von Adler. His body had fully transformed into that of a humanoid white-furred werewolf, easily surpassing three meters in height. His claws were longer than swords, and his entire frame radiated violent power. His breath was ragged but stable, and despite the little damage he had taken, his aura only grew more oppressive.

Emir stood across from him, his body low and tense, arms wrapped in veils of black smoke that pulsed with faint flickers of light. Beside him, Thabo took a step forward, fists clenched, bare chest bruised but firm, his muscles taut and ready. The two had been fighting nonstop for several minutes, yet Ernst showed no sign of slowing down. The spectral wolves he summoned—dozens at first, now countless—crawled out of the very ground, walls, and ceiling. They moved like animated shadows, grotesque caricatures with exaggerated features and jaws that drooled malice. Some emerged midair, others directly beneath their feet, and worst of it all, was that they seemed to have the ability to explode at contact.

Thabo had been struck directly at least six times by exploding wolves. Their detonations didn't carry flame or heat, only concussive force that would normally shatter bone and organ. And yet, the man endured. His stance never broke. He had taken hits to the ribs, the back, the shoulder, and even a grazing explosion to the face that ripped part of his tunic away, but still he fought. His skin was so tough that even those explosions left nothing but severe scratches on him.

Emir had not been so fortunate. His reactions were sharp, but his endurance wasn't built for a war of attrition. He had avoided the worst of the damage by instinctively absorbing the wolves upon contact, using his darkness skill [Black Storage] to swallow them into a void before they could detonate. But that took a toll. Every wolf he consumed drained his own reserves. The tension in his legs showed that fatigue was setting in fast, however, he was still far from his limit.

The wolves surrounded them again. Five burst from the floor to Emir's right, and he spun, arms wide. The darkness on his palms lashed out like blades, tearing three of them apart midair. One touched his back, and he absorbed it just before the explosion triggered. The last one leapt at his face, only to be intercepted by Thabo's knee, which shattered the creature into smoke a moment before it could erupt. The resulting blast still threw both men backward.

Ernst let out a booming laugh from the far side of the room. He didn't even need to speak—his joy was evident in the mockery etched across his bestial grin. He raised one clawed hand and snapped his fingers. Another wave of wolves burst from the ceiling, raining down like living bombs. Thabo reached out and pulled Emir behind him with one hand, shielding him with his own body. The explosions came one after another, a deafening series of impacts that fractured the old stone around them. Rubble and dust filled the air.

When the smoke cleared, Thabo was on one knee, blood finally dripping from his forehead and a long cut along his side; He wiped it away without flinching. Emir was behind him, hunched and breathing heavily, but still conscious.

"This is taking longer than Adam's plan…"

Emir said quietly, his voice barely carrying.

"I know."

Thabo responded through gritted teeth.

"But we don't stop until he loses his temper and approaches us at the right time."

Another pack of wolves came from the left. Emir lunged forward this time, risking a direct counterstrike, and opened both palms. The darkness exploded outward, forming a sphere around him. The moment the wolves touched the barrier, they were consumed.

Ernst growled and stepped forward. His claws dragged across the floor, leaving grooves in the stone. He moved faster than his size should allow. Thabo saw it just in time, grabbing Emir by the arm and throwing him out of the way as Ernst crashed down with a fist aimed at the boy's skull. The impact cratered the floor where Emir had just been.

Thabo met the next swing head-on. His arm snapped upward, deflecting the werewolf's claw with a forearm block. The momentum sent him sliding back, but he stayed upright. He spun, pivoted on his heel, and delivered a punch to Ernst's ribs with enough force to crack a wall. The werewolf staggered slightly, but didn't stop. He clawed forward, grazing Thabo's chest with a slash that tore muscle. Blood spattered the floor. The man roared in pain, then grabbed the claw mid-swipe and twisted, using his entire body to wrench Ernst's arm away and elbow him in the snout.

The blow landed. Ernst snarled and jumped back, swiping to clear space. His tongue lolled out, and he chuckled again, impressed.

"Persistent. But you're cracking."

He said, his voice deep and gravelly. Thabo spat blood to the side.

"You first."

Behind them, Emir rose again. His hands shook, but he pressed them together and whispered something. A faint glow appeared around his arms—less than before, but still something.

The wolves returned again. This time ten. Thabo knew they couldn't defend against all of them. He charged directly into the middle of the pack, drawing their attention, knowing they would explode on contact. He clenched every muscle in his body and took the hits in sequence.

*Boom. Boom. Boom*

Each blast chipped away at his armor of flesh little by little, and his body began to bleed. But Emir, untouched, raised a hand and whispered again, unleashing a wave of darkness to destroy the remnants.

Under the oppressive weight of dust, smoke, and howls, the kid stood with his back against one of the cracked pillars that supported the upper tombs. His chest rose and fell quickly, his hands still trembling from the last surge of darkness he had forced out. Sweat stuck to his forehead, and his legs refused to stop shaking. He looked over at Thabo, who remained crouched in front of him, bleeding but ready, shielding him from another wave of spectral wolves.

He tried to think, to reason through the chaos, but the pressure was too great. His thoughts scattered every time he tried to hold them together. No matter how many times he had faced death, no matter how much he had tried to act like an adult, Emir was still just a child—and this was far too much.

Adam's plan had been clear and simple. The way he had spoken, it had sounded almost like a guaranteed victory. Thabo's body was nearly immune to the kinetic explosions, able to act as a durable frontline that could keep the enemy physically engaged. Emir's darkness could absorb the spectral wolves before they detonated. It was a near-perfect combination. The information Meera had given them backed it up too. There were no tricks in that data, just execution and timing.

And they had done it. They had executed perfectly, but it was all to naught.

Minutes of pressure, endless attacks, calculated distractions. Thabo had taken the brunt of it all, and Emir had handled the rest, maintaining a rhythm of defense and suppression that allowed them to keep Ernst in sight. The final opening had come. The werewolf had overextended—he had left himself vulnerable, and Emir had stepped forward, summoned his [Interdimensional Containment Cube], which floated like an anchor of weightless metal, and activated it.

But it hadn't worked… It didn't just fail to contain Ernst, it didn't even react to him.

That made no sense. The cube was designed to capture and hold anything classified as any kind of entity. It didn't matter how strong it was—it would at least try. There had been no warning message, no error, no resistance. It simply bumped into Ernst's body, as though he were just a wall.

The first wave of panic hit Emir then. He didn't scream or cry. He just froze, eyes wide, hands trembling. That was the moment the battle changed. The strategy they had built everything around no longer made sense.

And then came the second shock.

They had prepared for Ernst to use diversions. Meera had warned them of the possibility. It was logical to expect that the man could use his cartoon wolves to fake his presence or create decoys. That was why Emir had been given the Plot Device from Li—[Specifically Numbered Group]. When activated, it revealed the number of enemies in a battle, not counting summons or secondary elements, however, it had a secondary visual effect that was perfect for this situation: It also marked them with floating numeric values, so Emir could always identify the real Ernst, even in the middle of chaos.

But when he had activated it… the number above Ernst's head had not been a [1].

It had been a [2], which meant there were two enemies in battle.

Emir had stared at that number for too long, trying to understand. A [2]? What did that even mean? There was only one Ernst. There was no second combatant in the room, not that he could see. The wolves didn't count. They weren't considered enemies since they were summons. But if Ernst wasn't the only true enemy… then who was the other?

No matter how he tried to interpret it, he couldn't. His mind tried to make sense of it. Tried to rewind the sequence of events, review what he might have missed. But his head was spinning. He was tired, too scared, and too cornered. His thoughts crashed into each other and left him stuck in place.

He didn't know what was wrong. He only knew that something was.

"Why?"

He whispered under his breath.

"Why didn't it work…?"

"Emir, move!"

Thabo shouted, grabbing the boy by the arm again and yanking him to the side just as another spectral wolf burst from the wall to their right. It exploded a second later, throwing both of them against the stone. Thabo took most of the hit, shielding Emir again. His back slammed into the floor, but he pulled himself up and stood, swaying on his feet. His breathing was harsh, his chest covered in blood and dust. But he stayed between Emir and Ernst, his fists still clenched, his body still upright.

He coughed and tried to sit up. His legs refused to move, not from exhaustion but from fear. His fingers curled into fists.

"It should've worked…"

He looked forward again at the werewolf, who was now stalking them calmly, as if fully aware that the tide had turned in his favor. The spectral wolves had stopped spawning for now. Ernst didn't need them. He had the advantage. He knew it. He wasn't even rushing anymore.

Then, the wolfman began to laugh. It was a low, raspy growl at first, then grew into a deep, guttural roar that echoed through the catacombs. He stood tall in the center of the ruined corridor, towering over the collapsed stones and cracked walls, his white fur matted with streaks of dark blood and spectral residue. His voice rumbled as he spoke, eyes locked on Emir and Thabo.

"Enough of this nonsense! I don't know what the kid did with my pack, but I'll tear him apart if I have to. I'll cut every inch of him open until he spits them back out."

He tilted his head back and howled. It wasn't a howl of pain or warning—it was a command. All across the shadows, every cartoonish wolf gave the same distorted howl in response. Dozens of them, maybe even almost a hundred. One by one, they stopped in place, turned to face him, and began bounding toward him like a river. They didn't attack, though; they just leapt, twisting in the air as they collided with Ernst's body, fusing with him on contact.

The transformation was grotesque. His body contorted, stretched, reshaped as more and more wolves sank into him. The color of his fur flickered from white to smoky gray as his limbs expanded. The already hulking werewolf swelled in size until his back scraped the arched ceiling of the catacombs. His claws grew longer, jagged, and curved like scythes. His mouth opened wider, his teeth multiplying into overlapping rows like a nightmare from a child's sketchpad. His body didn't resemble a man anymore. It was a lumbering monster, part beast, part cartoon, part something worse. His laughter came again, distorted and layered with overlapping tones.

And then he charged… The floor quaked under his steps as he sprinted directly toward Emir and Thabo. He didn't use any skill now. He didn't need to. It was enough with just raw, overwhelming force.

Thabo didn't move from his position. He was crouched low, arms raised, back to Emir. His shoulders were covered in scratches and deep gouges. The muscles on his arms trembled with each block as Ernst's claws came down again and again, swinging with absurd force. The speed was unreal. Thabo blocked with one arm and tried to counter with the other, but each blow threw him off balance. It was all he could do to stay on his feet.

The wolfman's laughter echoed like a rhythmic drumbeat of cruelty. Each sound came with another devastating swing of his claws. His movements were wild, like he was enjoying the act of tearing Thabo apart piece by piece. One claw ripped deep into Thabo's side, forcing a grunt through clenched teeth. Another struck his back, carving through flesh and muscle.

However, Thabo never screamed. His jaw stayed tight, his arms raised, his stance wide. He took each blow head-on, his body slowly giving way but never falling. His breathing was sharp and forced. Blood dripped from his forearms, from his waist, down his ribs. His vision blurred, but his body refused to collapse. Behind him, curled in the narrow space between the wall and his legs, Emir trembled. His hands covered his ears. His knees were tight to his chest. His forehead pressed against the stone. He didn't want to look. He didn't want to hear the sound of claws crashing against flesh and the weight of Thabo's gasps.

The thud of each impact echoed through his skull and pressed down on his chest like a weight he couldn't lift. His darkness wasn't helping at all; it just lingered around him, useless and cold. His power and his item couldn't reach Ernst... He had failed completely.

He shouldn't have come. He didn't belong there. He wasn't a warrior, he wasn't strong. He wasn't like Drake or Adam or Kazue or even Thabo. He wasn't brave. He was just a child. That's all he had ever been.

The system had taken him from a town that was already destroyed, ravaged by war. He had wandered alone for so long that he had stopped keeping track of the days. The war had already killed everyone. His mother. His older sister. His neighbors... His father. All gone. And now the system had brought him here, dropped him into something even worse.

However, for the first time in what felt like years, he had found people who didn't look at him like he was in the way. People who fought, who talked, who laughed. People he could follow. People who had given him something to believe in. Something he thought he could protect.

But now they were far away, and here he was again. Helpless, paralyzed, and shaking behind the back of a man who was about to die just to keep him alive a few more seconds. And he couldn't even move. He bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut. His shoulders trembled, and his chest felt too tight.

"I'm sorry."

He thought.

"I'm so sorry."

He didn't say it aloud. His mouth wouldn't open. But he thought it again and again.

"I'm sorry, everyone. I wanted to help. I wanted to be useful. I wanted to matter. But I can't do anything. I'm weak. I've always been weak. I let you all down."

Tears spilled from his eyes. He pressed his forehead tighter against his arms. He waited for the next impact. He waited for Thabo's body to fall. He waited for the pain.

But then, in the depths of that fear, something stirred. A voice came to him—quiet, worn, familiar in a way that made his chest ache. It wasn't real, it couldn't be, but it sounded just like him. That dry sarcasm wrapped in exhaustion and fear, the same tone he always had, no matter the situation… It was Nikolai's voice, echoing from a place long gone. Emir's eyes fluttered open as the memory returned more clearly than ever.

He could see the narrow tunnel, the broken walls, and the dust floating in the air like ash. He remembered the sting of smoke in his throat and the iron scent of blood around them during the final battle of the last scenario. Nikolai was there, leaning against the wall with one hand pressed to a bleeding wound in his side. Emir had been crouched beside him, too small to help, too scared to speak, just looking up at him in silence.

"I'm not a hero, kid."

Nikolai had said with a forced smirk.

"So don't look at me like I'm gonna save you. I'm just trying to make it to tomorrow."

Emir hadn't answered. He had been frozen, afraid, but he remembered the words as clearly as if they had just been spoken. Nikolai had let out a low laugh, bitter and tired, shaking his head like someone who'd given up pretending.

"You think just because I'm older I got this all figured out? I don't. I'm not strong. I'm not fast. I'm not smart. I don't know what I'm doing half the time. But I know when to run and I know when not to. That's enough."

His hand had dropped from the wound. His face had been pale, and his breaths shallow. But still, he pushed himself upright. His legs shook, his arm trembled as he grabbed the wall for support, but he stood anyway.

"You fight because someone has to. That's it. You don't need a reason. You just move. Or you die."

Emir remembered how his hands had been trembling, tightly clutching the interdimensional cube, focused only on making it work, trying to follow the steps he had been taught. He hadn't said anything to Nikolai in that moment, not a single word came out of his mouth. His eyes had been wide and full of panic, but all his attention had been on the cube glowing dimly in his palms.

Even so, Nikolai had looked at him and understood. He had seen the fear, the guilt, the silent plea buried behind the task. He had smiled back at him, soft and sad, a smile that said he got it. That he didn't need words to know what the kid was thinking.

"I'm not leaving my life to others. If I can't run anymore, I can still jump. One jump's all it takes."

And then he had moved, limping and wounded, one arm clutching his side to stop the bleeding, but the other holding onto Emir tightly. He had been tasked with keeping the boy safe, and even with his body on the brink of collapse, he didn't let go. He had dragged Emir through the broken corridors, shielding him from falling debris, ignoring the blood running down his face. And when Lord Varek's attack had come, that overwhelming force meant to finish everything, Nikolai didn't hesitate. He had thrown Emir out of the way with all the strength he had left, taking the brunt of the blast himself.

The kid remembered the moment clearly. The sound, the light, the silence afterward. When he opened his eyes again, Nikolai was still alive, barely breathing, collapsed on one knee.

And, at the end, he had pulled out his legendary rank Plot Device he had never planned to use on anyone but himself. He could have healed himself. He could have survived. But instead, he had activated it with the last of his energy, reviving the entire team that had fallen moments earlier. Emir had watched the light envelop them all while Nikolai faded, his body slumping to the side as his breath finally stopped. He had saved them all. Even powerless, even afraid, Nikolai had never backed down. He had done his duty until the very end. And Emir would never forget it.

The kid's chest tightened. His hands were shaking, and his body still curled in fear, but he felt something change. His heart was pounding harder. His fingers twitched as the pain in his chest started to feel different. His hands slid down from his ears. His arms lowered from his head. The claws and laughter were still there. Thabo's body still stood between him and death. The smell of blood hadn't gone away. But something inside him had shifted.

He didn't want to die. He didn't want to see Thabo die either. He didn't want to see anyone else disappear while he just sat and watched. He was scared, more than ever before, but that didn't matter anymore. If he didn't act, it would all end here. That's what Nikolai had taught him. That's what he had shown with his own sacrifice.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Emir opened his eyes again, and they no longer looked dull or panicked. There was light now, faint but steady. Violet shimmered in the depths of his pupils. His darkness answered, flickering around him in slow waves. It didn't come with control or certainty. There was no real plan in his mind. But his body moved. He moved. And that was enough.

Thabo's body finally gave in. His arms dropped to the sides, heavy and unresponsive. His knees wobbled for a moment before he dropped to one knee. Blood dripped from his shoulders and sides. His breathing was shallow and forced. Even with his monstrous physique, even with his unnatural endurance, he had reached his limit. He remained upright, barely, but it was clear he couldn't move anymore. The damage had gone too far.

Ernst laughed again, louder than ever. The massive white-furred werewolf loomed above Thabo with a manic grin twisting across his fanged snout.

"Let's finish this already!"

He growled.

"Once you're out of the way, I'll deal with the brat. Slowly."

He raised his claw for the final strike, stretching his arm wide. His other claw clenched, and his lips pulled back, exposing more of his jagged teeth. He had already made up his mind. The tanned man had played his part, and now he would be discarded like the rest… However, his words had barely left his throat when something blurred past Thabo's shoulder.

A figure shot forward from behind the man's ruined frame. A small shadow with purpose in its steps, unshaking despite the terror on its face.

Without hesitation, without a word, Emir leapt using Thabo's shoulder as a springboard. He launched himself straight at Ernst's snout, just as the monster had opened his maw to finish his sentence. The kid's heart pounded in his chest, his body trembled, but he didn't stop.

Ernst's eyes widened the instant he realized what was happening. But it was too late. His mouth was open, and his arms were raised, so his body had no way to stop it.

Emir plunged his right arm directly into the open mouth of the beast… If touching him outside didn't work, then how about inside?

The darkness surged instantly. A dense vortex of black smoke exploded from Emir's hand, spinning and slamming around the werewolf's massive frame. The swirling mass howled like a storm contained within a single body. The tendrils of shadow wrapped around Ernst's head, his chest, and his arms. Emir's skill, [Black Storage], was activated to its maximum output.

All of the spectral cartoon wolves that had fused with Ernst began to be pulled free. Dozens, then the near hundred of them, their twisted forms unraveling from the beast's frame. They screamed soundlessly as they were swallowed whole by the darkness. Each one ripped from his flesh as if they had never belonged. The grotesque combination of caricature and monster was undone in moments.

Ernst's body shrank back down, muscles compressing, fur shedding layer by layer as the extra mass was consumed by Emir's power. The boy didn't know it, but by doing so, he had absorbed directly into his opponent's core, doing a crazy amount of damage and sucking a lot of his strenght.

The laughter was gone. His arms twitched, and his pupils rolled back. He dropped to his base werewolf form, panting, stunned, eyes unfocused. Emir pulled his arm free, stumbling back as the last trails of shadow vanished around his wrist.

He landed on both feet. Barely. His chest rose and fell violently. His lungs screamed for air while his entire body shook, not from exhaustion, but fear. He couldn't believe what he had just done.

Ernst swayed in place for a breath longer and then collapsed. His massive body crashed against the stone, lifeless for the moment. His limbs spread awkwardly. His claws twitched once and then stopped.

Emir didn't move. His eyes remained locked on the fallen monster. Sweat clung to his face. He was still afraid. Every inch of his instincts screamed to run. But instead, he took a step forward and whispered to himself.

"He felt like the wolves. Like them, but... thicker. Real. Almost like they were all made from the same thing."

He swallowed hard.

"Is that why the cube didn't work?"

He didn't have the answer. The thought lingered for a second, but he pushed it aside just to turn a moment later. Behind him, Thabo remained kneeling, eyes closed, completely unconscious.

His body was covered in gashes. The cuts ran deep, some still bleeding. Emir ran toward him immediately, dropped to his knees, and reached into his pocket, pulling out one of the pills Drake had given them before the battle.

He leaned forward and gently opened Thabo's mouth. His hands trembled, but he didn't stop. Carefully, he placed the pill inside and closed Thabo's jaw. His fingers hovered over his friend's chest, unsure of what else to do.

"Please work."

He whispered. The heat of the fight was gone. The air was heavy and quiet. For the first time since they entered the catacombs, there was stillness. Emir stayed there, kneeling in the bloodstained dust, shadows coiled faintly around his body. His breath still trembled, but his eyes no longer looked down.

But the silence didn't last. Before Emir could take another breath, before he could even move to check on his fallen enemy's condition, a sharp pain pierced his shoulder. Another burst of agony followed, this time at his waist. Two spectral cartoon wolves had appeared beside him without warning. One bit into his right shoulder, the other sank its teeth into his side. Both detonated on impact.

Emir screamed. His body hit the ground hard, limbs trembling. The explosion didn't burn, didn't tear, but it shook his body to its core. He gasped, trying to breathe through the pain, eyes wide and unfocused for a moment. His hands scraped against the ground as he tried to lift himself. His muscles didn't respond immediately, there was so much pain even tho the damage was not that big. He turned his head, and what he saw froze him.

More wolves. Dozens of them. Dozens more emerging out of nowhere, forming out of the air itself. They didn't step from shadows or come crawling from walls. They simply appeared, one after another, summoned by something unseen. Ernst still lay on the ground in front of him, unconscious. This made no sense.

But then… He saw it.

Floating above an empty space ahead of him, the number [1] shimmered faintly in midair. It hovered there, slightly tilted, as if resting on nothing. Emir's heart skipped a beat. His breathing accelerated again, and despite the pain, despite the nausea that crept up through his gut, he forced himself up.

His legs shook, but he stood. His hands lifted. Darkness gathered.

The wolves charged again, coming in from all angles. However, Emir didn't face them. Instead, he turned toward the empty space below the floating number and threw both arms forward.

A wave of thick, distorted black energy burst from his palms. His skill, [Null Essence Wave], surged forward—not toward the wolves, but toward the air that concealed the unknown.

The wolves stopped immediately, and the wave passed through the air ahead and collided with something invisible. And in that moment, something cracked. The system reacted instantly. A translucent screen appeared in front of the boy:

The air shimmered like broken glass. A ripple expanded across the hall. What had once been empty revealed a hidden shape as the effect of the skill shattered. The illusion fell apart like fragments of a broken mirror.

A massive translucent bubble hung in the air, previously hidden. Inside it, kneeling on a soft red cushion, was a young girl.

She looked no older than ten. Long pale hair fell in soft waves down her back. Her dress was white and simple, almost like a sleeping gown. Her eyes were wide and frozen, ocean blue, locked in fear. Her lower lip trembled, and her hands clutched her knees.

She didn't speak. Emir recognized the panic in her face, how she didn't even try to run or defend herself. She was overwhelmed. The boy, his voice hoarse and quiet, whispered.

"So there was someone…"

Then louder, forcing strength into his tone, he asked.

"Who are you?!"

The girl didn't answer. She looked like she was going to cry. Then, without warning, she let out a short cry and clenched her eyes shut. The moment her eyes closed, more cartoon wolves erupted from her body.

They came in a wave. First ten, then twenty, then more. They burst from her like a flood, spiraling outward in all directions. Dozens launched themselves toward Emir at once.

But this time, he was ready. With a deep breath, he summoned all of his energy again. The shadows around him thickened. The wolves reached him—and vanished the instant they made contact. His darkness consumed them one by one. Not a single one exploded, nor a single one landed a bite.

Regardless, the swarm of cartoonish spectral wolves kept coming at him, but Emir didn't flinch anymore. He stood where he was, letting the darkness rush from his hands and engulf each of them as they reached him. One after another vanished into the shadows, their energy absorbed before they could explode. He wasn't breathing steadily, but he wasn't faltering either. Then, finally, a voice cut through the tension.

"Stop!"

All at once, the wolves froze in place. The air around him settled for a moment. It was the girl's voice—soft, high-pitched, but filled with panic. The remaining wolves didn't move. They stared at the kid with their exaggerated, emotionless eyes, teeth still bared, but they didn't attack. Emir's eyes flicked toward the source, toward the translucent floating sphere where the girl sat.

She had finally spoken.

"Stop hurting them…"

She said, her voice shaking. She looked down at him with wide, terrified eyes. She wasn't hiding anymore, but she was still trembling. Emir, even through the fear still lodged in his chest, managed to draw in a slow breath. He tried to calm himself, remembering what Adam would have done. He had seen him talk down threats like this before. The way he stood, the tone he used. The kid breathed deeply and began to mimic him.

He raised his chin slightly and cleared his throat. His voice was uneven, but he pushed it out anyway.

"Who are you?"

The girl blinked fast and looked like she was about to cry again. She hesitated, clutched the edges of the cushion she knelt on, and then finally spoke.

"Elizabeth… Elizabeth von Adler."

She stammered.

"I'm with D-Dragon Utopia. Ernst… E-Ernst is the one everyone sees, but he's just the face. I'm the real member."

Emir blinked, confused.

"Then… who is he, really?"

Her lips trembled.

"He's a s-system NPC. I made a contract with him over a year ago. When I first entered the system. I was with Solène back then. O-Only she and Konrad ever knew I existed."

Emir's eyes softened. He could tell just from her expression how scared she was. That feeling on her face wasn't unfamiliar. It was the same fear that had haunted him for years. The same quiet, choking helplessness that made breathing feel harder, that turned your own thoughts against you.

"I get it, really. So… let's end this now. You take care of him. I'll take my friend and leave. No one else has to get hurt."

Emir said, hopeful that the girl could see reason. Elizabeth looked even more distressed. Her hands shook, and her voice came out trembling.

"I… I can't. He's dangerous, you're dangerous... I've seen what happens when we let dangerous users go. E-Every time we try to show mercy, it ends badly. I won't let that happen again. N-Not after what you did to Ernst."

Emir snapped, his voice rising.

"That's insane! Neither of us can really hurt each other anymore."

"That's not true…"

The girl said, still stuttering.

"The s-system said your skill is near its limit. I saw the m-message. But I'm still safe. I'm inside an A+ rank defense item. Y-You'll wear out first. I'll still be standing."

Her words weren't threatening. She sounded like she was trying to convince herself just as much as him. Her tone was almost adorable, if it hadn't come wrapped in panic.

Before Emir could say anything else, she let out another breath and raised both hands. More wolves emerged around her instantly. They appeared without sound and started hopping in every direction, grinning with their lifeless expressions. Emir clenched his fists and his jaw. This was bad. His body was aching, and he could continue, but for how long?

But then he remembered.

There was still one thing he hadn't used. Something Sebastian had given him as a last resort in Adam's plan. Something weird, even by the system's standards, but designed specifically for moments like this.

Without saying a word, Emir raised one arm and concentrated… The system responded immediately.

The moment he activated the Plot Device, the boy didn't feel anything different. No rush of power. No light. No announcement. He just stood there, in the middle of the ground, waiting. All he had was the system message confirming the activation and the lingering reminder Sebastian had given him.

"Just be cool, and it'll work."

But what did that even mean? He clenched his fists and tried to think fast. What was cool? Who was cool? Instantly, three images surfaced in his mind—Adam, Drake, and Nikolai. Emir swallowed hard, straightened his back, and let the darkness spill again from his arms.

The cartoon wolves kept rushing toward him from every angle, and he responded the same way he had until now. He absorbed them all one after another. Nothing special happened, just more of the same.

Seconds passed, and he kept at it. The wolves kept coming.

But then, without warning, a message appeared in front of him. This one wasn't just for him. It was visible to both sides.

His eyes widened, and before he could process the warning, Elizabeth's voice rang out.

"Now!"

Emir looked up. From the ceiling above the broken catacomb, something dropped fast. A mass of laughter and gnashing teeth, one large cartoon wolf fused from several smaller ones, with twisted features and exaggerated jaws. The kid couldn't move. It landed directly over him, and with a single bite, swallowed his entire body whole. Elizabeth's eyes locked on the scene. She didn't breathe.

"Explode!"

She whispered in her mind… But nothing happened. Instead, the wolf began to distort. Its round shape twisted and then collapsed in on itself. It didn't detonate, instead, the mass of its exaggerated body was pulled inward like water swirling into a drain. With a loud sucking sound, the beast disappeared entirely in front of her eyes.

"No… What…?"

Elizabeth gasped, and then Emir landed on the ground in the same spot, on both feet. He was standing tall, arms out slightly, his body intact, darkness still coiling gently around him like smoke.

Another message appeared.

Elizabeth recoiled in her bubble, her hands trembling.

"S-Surpassed? That's not p-possible!"

She stammered. Emir raised his head slowly. He was shaking, but he took a step forward, voice steady now.

"I'm coming for you."

The girl let out a squeal more suited to a frightened animal than a person. Her tiny frame pressed against the inside of the bubble. The wolves around her twitched, unsure whether to attack or wait. Emir didn't care. He had already stepped forward when a sudden shift behind him stopped him cold.

The sound of movement behind him forced his eyes to the side. Ernst was standing again. Blood soaked his white fur, dripping down his arms and legs, leaving a trail of red on the cracked floor. His entire frame shook with exhaustion, but his claws remained ready. The strength in his limbs was fading fast, yet he still forced his body forward. His breath escaped in uneven bursts, every inhale a struggle, but the fire in his eyes had not gone out. He staggered, then straightened his spine with a growl that scraped from deep within his chest.

"You won't lay a hand on her!"

He shouted in a brutal roar. He launched himself forward. His movements were no longer fluid, but there was still danger in every step. His claws rose, angled to tear straight through the kid with whatever strength he had left. The distance between them vanished in an instant.

Emir turned without hesitation. He raised his right arm, his palm open and steady. The angle was perfect for his semblance to be hidden; it seemed that there was no fear in his face, only certainty.

"Release!"

He said, while a system message materialized at eye level, floating like a judgment above the battlefield.

From the center of Emir's palm, a dark current burst forward with crushing force. It erupted in a wave of pure shadow, surging outward in a spiral that swallowed the light around it. One after another, the wolves he had absorbed returned—not calmly, not gradually, but as a violent storm. Dozens of distorted cartoon wolves launched into the air. Their eyes bulged, their jaws opened, their bodies twisting in grotesque motion as they screamed toward Ernst.

The first wave struck his body. Kinetic explosions lit the corridor with impact after impact. Each wolf burst on contact, forcing Ernst to stumble. The force didn't allow him time to recover. More wolves slammed into him, detonating with devastating weight. The ground quaked and the stone split. The roof trembled from the chain reaction of blast after blast. Smoke and dust filled the air as shockwaves radiated from the center, throwing rubble across the chamber.

Emir didn't move. His arm remained extended, and his stance didn't falter. He watched the destruction unfold without blinking or speaking. There was nothing else to say.

When the last wolf hit, the silence that followed was instant. Ernst stood for a moment longer. His claws lowered. His breath stopped. His body, injured and broken, began to tilt forward.

Then he collapsed. His massive frame slammed into the stone floor, unmoving, unconscious, and finally defeated.

"Ernst!"

Elizabeth screamed her guardian's name, the sound sharp and desperate. Her tiny hands pressed against the inner surface of the bubble, her entire body trembling as she looked down and saw Emir still standing, unharmed, shadowed by fading smoke. His stance was firm. He wasn't breathing heavily anymore, and his eyes were calm but focused, staring directly at her. The tension in his posture was palpable, his aura darker than before, and for the girl, even the silence was terrifying.

She gave a tiny squeak of fear, backing into the center of her floating cushion. Her protective bubble was still intact, and she knew that as long as it remained, she was safe. She just had to buy time. She'd summon more wolves. Stronger ones this time. She didn't know how, but she'd find a way to protect Ernst and stop this terrifying boy in front of her.

But before she could even think the command, Emir raised his hands. Between his fingers, one of his Interdimensional Containment Cubes pulsed with dark energy. He held it with both hands and whispered in a low, focused voice.

"Noctharis, partial release!"

The cube pulsed violently, then split open. Darkness surged out—not like his usual shadows, but something deeper, heavier, ancient. A titanic shape began to form above him, dwarfing the room. It wasn't fully materialized, only halfway summoned, but it was more than enough to bring the entire space into chaos. A monstrous head took shape, long and twisted, crowned with obsidian horns that curled backward like blades. Beneath it, one massive arm stretched out—thin, yet grotesquely long and unnaturally flexible, ending in a black clawed hand that seemed to absorb the very light around it.

The presence of Noctharis flooded the chamber. The air grew heavy. The walls cracked. The protective bubble around Elizabeth shattered with an audible snap. Her item exploded outward into shimmering fragments of light. Her body fell to the ground with a soft thud, cushioned by her pillow, but the fear in her face had frozen her completely. She didn't move. Her mouth opened to scream, but the sound didn't come.

All around them, the catacomb groaned under the pressure. Dust rained from above. Massive stones dislodged from the ceiling. Entire sections of the corridor began to collapse. One chunk of stone, large enough to crush a man, broke off and plummeted straight toward the girl.

She looked up and saw it. Her lips trembled, and her eyes widened, paralyzed.

Then a blur shot through the falling rubble… Emir dashed through the dust, leaped over scattered debris, and jumped in front of her. He kicked the boulder with a full twist of his body. The stone veered off course, smashing beside them instead of on top. Elizabeth flinched as shards flew past her, but Emir had already stepped between her and the danger. Without pause, he scooped her into his arms.

She looked at him with huge eyes, completely stunned. Her face was pale, and her mouth hung slightly open, unable to process what had just happened. Her mind froze, lost in confusion, fear, and awe. Emir didn't even look at her. He was already scanning the space for more danger.

He weaved through the collapsing ruin with a speed that no one expected from him. His movements weren't elegant, but they were effective. He jumped from broken platforms, slid under falling pillars, and finally reached the section of the chamber that was still structurally sound.

They landed in relative safety. The stone continued to collapse behind them. Emir let out a deep breath and looked around. Elizabeth was still staring at him. Her arms clutched his shirt weakly, her face flushed. Finally, her lips moved.

"S-So c-cool…"

Emir blinked and slowly turned his head toward her. Then, he raised his hand and lightly bonked her on the forehead.

She let out a soft whimper and immediately slumped, losing consciousness. He shifted his grip slightly and sighed. With her unconscious, it was now safe to proceed. He took out another of his Interdimensional Containment Cubes and pressed it gently against her body.

The cube glowed for a moment, and Elizabeth's form was enveloped in light, absorbed smoothly into the containment field, vanishing without resistance. As soon as it was completed, Emir turned to look across the room where Ernst lay. His body had not moved, but now the light surrounding him began to pulse. Slowly, his form began to disintegrate into particles, dissolving into nothing. It was as if he had only been able to exist through her will, and with their connection severed, the wolfman's body disappeared.

Emir didn't celebrate. Not yet. He walked over to Thabo's still form and knelt beside him. The man's wounds were extensive, his breathing faint. Emir pulled out his last cube and placed it gently on Thabo's chest. With a soft glow, the man was absorbed safely, his body disappearing into the secure space within the device.

Now the chamber was quiet again, with only the kid standing alone. The remains of the battle surrounded him. Shattered pillars, deep craters, crumbled ceilings. He looked at it all and felt the silence settle in.

He had won… His hand closed around the last cube and slipped it into his pocket.

He turned toward the corridor that led to the exit. His steps were small at first, tired and uncertain. But then, without warning, he skipped once. Then again, then again… His pace picked up, and finally he jumped higher.

A grin spread across his face. His fists shot into the air.

He had done it. His first real battle, and he had survived. No, more than that—he had won.

Emir leaped high into the air, arms raised in victory, kicking his legs with joy. The echo of his laughter bounced through the ruined hall.