First Blood
The goblin's corpse slumped against the dungeon floor, its clawed hand twitching once before going still. The dagger it held clattered free, bouncing across stone with a hollow ring that echoed through the dark corridor.
The air tightened. Damp, iron-rich, tinged with ozone from residual mana. The final traces of Leon's Zombie Mage's spell still hissed against the goblin's smoldering chest—faint blue sparks dancing across scorched flesh.
Silence returned, but not peace.
No one moved.
Their breathing filled the void—ragged, catching in shallow bursts. It wasn't fear. It was adjustment. The moment just after a first real fight when the body catches up to the decision to survive.
Leon lowered his hand, fingers tingling with faint magic static.
The adrenaline didn't shake him. It focused him.
Tactically, the encounter had been simple. Minimal targets. Tight corridor. But what mattered wasn't the enemies.
It was the execution.
The coordination.
The fact that his summon had acted on instinct—without command.
That mattered more than anything else.
Reaction
Garet finally moved, his blade still raised though the fight was long over. His knuckles had paled from tension, his stance rigid and uncertain. His gaze darted—first to the goblin, then to the Zombie Mage.
He didn't speak.
Elise didn't either.
She stared at the summon—not with fear, not quite—but with the careful focus of someone trying to reconcile what she'd seen with what she knew.
Her grip tightened around her staff.
The Zombie Mage stood motionless at Leon's side. Silent. Watching. Arcane light flickered beneath its hood, the blue glow from its eyes casting thin shadows across the dungeon wall.
There was no breathing.
No fidgeting.
No wasted movement.
It waited.
Not like a puppet waiting for its master.
Like a soldier awaiting orders.
Leon didn't smile. He didn't react outwardly. But the weight in his chest shifted—centered, solid.
Then the notification bloomed into view.
[System Notification: Your Summon Has Leveled Up][Zombie Mage – Rank F → F+]
No fanfare.
Just confirmation.
He felt the change—not as pain, not as thought, but as something real. Tangible. Like a heartbeat that wasn't his, pulsing through their link.
His eyes flicked to the summon. It hadn't collapsed or degraded like a traditional zombie should after overexerting its mana.
It had stabilized.
Stronger now.
[Stat Boost: +5 Intelligence | +2 Mana]
No wasted stats. No flavor text.
Just numbers—clean and sharp.
And numbers meant growth.
Evolution in Silence
The zombie's frame had shifted slightly. The difference wasn't dramatic—no flashy transformation, no sudden change of outfit or class.
But it stood straighter.
Its posture no longer sagged. The unstable mist that once drifted around its limbs now hugged tighter to its form, like a layer of control had been added.
A refinement.
The glow of its eyes had narrowed—more focused. Less flickering candle, more guided beam.
Leon could feel it.
The mana was cleaner.
The response speed—sharper.
The upgrade wasn't cosmetic. It was functional.
And this was only the first level-up.
He opened his status screen with a thought—just enough to glance at the numbers, read the new tags, confirm what his instincts had already told him.
This was progress.
And it was permanent.
Breaking the Silence
"...Did your zombie just get stronger?"
Elise's voice broke the silence—not sharp, not accusatory. Just quiet. Measured.
Leon glanced over.
She didn't sound convinced yet. But she didn't sound dismissive anymore either.
She was processing.
Garet shifted beside her. His weapon lowered, but not all the way. His brow furrowed.
"It's acting different," he said, like the words tasted foreign. "Faster. Cleaner. That's not normal."
Leon didn't look at either of them.
He didn't need to explain.
"Guess it's not a normal summon."
That was enough.
The answer sat in the space between them—unquestioned but heavy.
Elise bit her lip. She didn't push further. Her eyes kept flicking to the Zombie Mage, studying it like a healer watching a patient who shouldn't be standing.
Garet crossed his arms, jaw set. "Still just a zombie."
Leon didn't bother responding.
He didn't need to argue.
They would see.
Status Check
As the others turned back toward the corridor, Leon allowed the status interface to reappear for a brief glance. The flickering blue light of the screen illuminated the numbers in perfect clarity.
[Zombie Mage – F+]Intelligence: 15 → 20Mana: 8 → 10Abilities Gained: None yetGrowth Pattern: Stable
The Intelligence boost mattered.
It meant faster casting speed. Better targeting precision. Shorter cooldowns. All of it fed back into combat efficiency.
He'd already seen the results. Spells that once flickered with instability now launched clean and fast. Hits that once glanced now landed dead center.
That was just Level 2.
He shut the screen.
Momentum
The corridor ahead stretched deeper—tighter. Colder.
The dungeon's layout hadn't changed, but Leon felt it differently now. Like each step forward offered potential instead of risk.
He needed more battles.
More encounters.
Not to prove anything to them. Or to the recruiters.
To refine.
To evolve.
Every creature they met was data. Every spell cast, a measurement. Every level up, a tool.
He clenched his fist, letting the heat of focus settle into his limbs.
This was no longer about survival.
It was about building something no one could take from him.
No Words Needed
Garet rolled his shoulders, muttering to himself. "Let's keep moving. That noise probably drew more in."
Elise nodded. Her voice was steady again. "Stick together."
Leon said nothing. He walked forward.
The Zombie Mage followed—its steps soundless.
For now, they still called it a zombie.
That wouldn't last long.