The air hung thick with the stench of decay and the metallic tang of blood. This S-rank dungeon was a graveyard, a testament to the brutal power it wielded. The bravest, strongest hunters—all fallen. One by one, they had succumbed, leaving behind bloody smears on the obsidian floor. But their sacrifice wouldn't be in vain. Sung Jin-woo stood alone, a lone figure amidst the carnage, the weight of their deaths settling on his shoulders like a cold, heavy cloak. His shadows, a swirling vortex of darkness, surged around him, a silent army answering his unspoken commands. He moved like a phantom, a blur of motion amidst the grotesque creatures that swarmed him. Each swing of his blade, each shadow's strike, was precise, deadly. Their roars of rage were swallowed by the echoing silence of the dungeon, punctuated only by the sickening crunch of bone and the wet thud of bodies hitting the ground. The Monarch's power coursed through him, a torrent of raw energy that made his movements fluid, his senses razor sharp. He anticipated their attacks, countering with lethal efficiency. The monsters were strong, yes, but they were nothing compared to the power he now wielded, the power forged in the crucible of death and despair. He was no longer just Sung Jin-woo, the weak hunter. He was the Shadow Monarch, and this dungeon would be his tomb. Or theirs. Arise He orders the corpse of the boss of the S+ rank dungeon.