IEntrance Protocol – No Backup, No Applause
The checkpoint official scanned Leon's entry slip with a flick of the wrist. His expression didn't shift when he saw the name—but when his eyes hit the solo entry tag, the sneer crept in.
"Solo run?" the man muttered, scrawling a lazy mark into the ledger. "Fools and corpses come alone."
Leon didn't look up.
His Zombie Mage stood behind him, quiet as a shadow, its cloak shifting with the light wind rolling from the chasm-shaped dungeon gate. The arcane sigils carved into the arch hummed in response to Leon's system signature.
He stepped forward.
The checkpoint gate hissed open.
The man behind the desk shook his head and went back to writing names.
A New Setting – Ancient Grounds and Broken Sunlight
The inside of this dungeon was unlike the last.
There were no suffocating corridors or flickering torches. This place opened into a shattered ruin—an ancient temple, long buried and swallowed by vines and root-veined stone. Light bled in from high cracks in the ceiling above, golden and soft, cutting through the dust like divine arrows piercing decay.
Scattered pillars jutted from the broken floor, some leaning, some collapsed entirely.
Leon stepped into the silence and let it settle on his shoulders like a cloak. His gun hung at his side. Mana trickled into the chamber—controlled, steady.
The Zombie Mage floated beside him. Its posture had changed since the last battle. Less stiff. More… ready.
Not just a puppet.
A presence.
Then, sound.
Low, guttural. Close.
Engagement One – The Shadow Hounds
They came in threes.
Fast.
Lean muscle and shadow-forged fur, their eyes glowing like coals pressed too long in flame. No barking. No roar. Just coordinated motion—liquid silence broken by the scrape of claws against cracked stone.
The first broke left.
The second, straight for him.
The third looped wide—flanking the mage.
Leon didn't flinch.
His mana surged. He raised the gun and fired the first shot without blinking. The mana round punched through the lead hound's shoulder. Its body spiraled mid-air, smashed into a collapsed altar, and didn't rise.
"Intercept."
The word wasn't loud.
The mage was already in motion.
Before the second hound cleared the broken column, a Mana Bolt lanced through the air. Direct hit. Skull fracture. Collapse.
The third lunged for Leon.
He stepped aside—not with panic, but practiced precision. He didn't dodge wildly. He let it miss.
He raised the gun.
Fired point-blank.
The creature's momentum carried its ruined body forward before it dropped lifelessly at his feet.
Silence. Then the slow return of breath.
System Update – Tactical Mode Unlocked
The blue pulse of a System Notification flickered into place.
[Zombie Mage – Tactical Mode Activated]
Leon exhaled through his nose.
The screen faded, but he didn't dismiss it.
He looked at the summon.
The difference wasn't just visual—it was behavioral. The mage's stance wasn't idle anymore. It tracked the terrain. Its head tilted slightly at each sound. It scanned the rooftops and the corners. Actively.
Anticipating.
He took a step forward.
So did the summon.
Not as a follow-up reflex. It repositioned, cutting angles, watching blind spots.
Leon stopped. Raised his gun again—no threat, just test.
The zombie moved laterally, covering an opening with an archer's field of fire. Calculated. Fast.
No order.
He didn't speak.
Didn't think a command.
It was adapting.
Shifting Roles – From Controller to Commander
Necromancer summons didn't think.
They obeyed.
That was the rule.
But this wasn't a rule-following system.
This was Tactical Mode.
Leon holstered his gun and checked the chamber—mana still viable. He pulled the slide once, resetting the ignition node.
"Still with me?" he muttered.
The zombie tilted its head slightly. Arcane lines across its arms flickered.
Leon turned toward the center of the temple ruins.
He didn't need orders anymore.
He had a soldier.
The Alpha – Not Just a Beast
The air thickened as he approached the central platform of the ruined temple.
The smell hit first—iron, sweat, musk, and rot. Then the quiet. Deeper than before. Wrong.
Even the roots looked like they were holding their breath.
Leon slowed.
Then—
Movement.
The Dire Wolf Alpha exploded from the far corridor, muscle and power compressed into a fluid missile of fangs and fury. It cleared the rubble in a single leap.
Leon dived sideways.
Stone shattered where he had stood—talons ripping tile like parchment.
He rolled, came up in a crouch, gun already raised.
Fired.
The shot burned past the wolf's shoulder. Not enough. The creature twisted, dug in, and launched again.
Too fast. Too smart.
Its eyes locked onto him with intelligence. This wasn't a beast.
It was a predator.
Counter-Engagement – Testing the Soldier
Leon's eyes snapped to his summon.
"Tactical split. Vantage right."
The zombie didn't wait.
It vanished behind the rubble.
The wolf tracked Leon.
Ignored the mage.
A mistake.
Leon moved, quick steps across uneven ground, leading the beast through a half-collapsed archway. Debris. Traps. Angles.
He stopped between two fallen statues.
The wolf leapt again, teeth bared.
Leon didn't dodge this time.
He shouted.
"Now!"
A charged Mana Bolt ripped through the air from the right flank.
Impact.
The wolf howled—one leg buckled mid-air.
Leon twisted, brought his gun up. Fired.
The round struck clean between the eyes.
The beast slammed into the ground and didn't rise again.
Aftermath – No Echo, No Applause
Leon stood over the Dire Wolf's body.
Steam hissed from its scorched fur. Its massive chest rose once. Then stilled.
A pool of blood widened beneath its ruined skull.
[Zombie Mage Level Up – Evolution Progress: 80%] [New Passive Trait Available Upon Next Rank-Up]
Leon didn't smile.
He didn't speak.
He checked the chamber, felt the drain in his mana pool, then glanced at his zombie.
It stood nearby. Watching.
Learning.
They hadn't won because of brute strength.
They'd won because of timing. Spacing. Precision.
Because now—he didn't command spells.
He orchestrated strikes.
He didn't raise corpses.
He trained killers.